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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years ago

Note

Hey I love your blog! If it isn’t too much trouble, could you do one of the companions reacting to Sole getting an unsolicited dick pic?

FO4 Companions React to Sole Receiving an Unsolicited Dick Pic

So I know the ask said one of the companions, but I just did 'em all cuz I got carried away (as I always seem to). This was definitely an interesting one to think about, and suuuuper fun to write. Thanks for the ask!

I ended up doing a little scenario at the top that'll apply to all of the reactions, and just kind of give context for the fateful event to take place (since phones/the internet aren't really a canon element in FO, I put this scenario together instead.)

Given the nature of this ask, there's a just bit of NSFW under the cut!

Sole had woken up like any other day. Heading down the stairs of their Diamond City home to make breakfast, trying to be quiet in order to keep from disturbing their companion in the other room. However, as they passed their front door, they noticed something peeking out of the mail slot.

The paper isn't meant to come out until tomorrow...

Curious, Sole reached for the little white square of photo paper, and noticed some writing in the corner. There was an address and the words, "if you like what you see, meet me here tonight," accompanied by a little arrow pointing to flip the photo over. Their intrigue got the better of them, and Sole did as the writing suggested, turning it over for a brief second before immediately regretting it. They recoiled at the phallic image, their surprise evident in the small yelp they uttered in response to the sight before them.

They heard their companion stir from the other room, and then their footsteps sounded from behind as they approached questioningly.

"What have you got there?" They asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sole said, turning to face them, "just some mail, is all." Sole's words dripped with distaste, and yet... they felt an overwhelming need to share their unsightly discovery with the person in front of them.

"Wanna see?" They asked, mercilessly turning the picture so their companion could clearly make out the offensive image.

Cait:

*scoffs*

"What, they think that's somethin' te brag about? The damn thing's so wee, I almost couldn't make it out." She'd say with a smile, offering up her hand so she could take the picture and tear it in half. Cait effectively would make the decision for her companion in regards to the comment on the back of the photo. She knows this type of man, and she'd be sure that Sole wouldn't be meeting the asshole anywhere tonight. However, should she be able to sneak away while Sole is sleeping... Cait might just pay a visit to the specified location, where she'd surely give that asshole a piece of her mind, and at least one taste of her fist.

Curie:

Her eyebrows would furrow, and the synth would cock her head to the side in her confusion. Being locked away in a vault with three men for so many years, acting as their doctor, meant she had seen her fair share of the male sex organ. But now, Curie was confused, why did this man feel the need to send Sole a photograph of his penis? Was there something wrong with it? Did he want them to examine it? Sole was not a doctor...

"Why 'ave you received zhis, madame/monsieur? What does zhis man want from you?"

Once Sole explained, Curie would be quite upset by the concept.

"But... you did not ask for zhis, did not want it, and yet, he sent it anyway. Why would you want to meet someone like zhat? It seems very rude to me." She's still confused about it, and may ask a few more questions. Has this happened to Sole before? Does it happen often? Does anyone actually like to see such things when they are unprompted like this? If not, then why do these men continue to do it?

The scientist just wants answers.

Danse:

The soldier would physically recoil at the sight of the photograph, eyebrows raised high as he took in the image, before jerking his head and eyes away from Sole and the picture altogether.

"That-- that is highly inappropriate and an overwhelmingly vile display." He would say once he recovered from his initial shock, still refusing to look back towards Sole, "I suggest you dispose of that filth immediately. Why anyone would reveal themselves in such an unceremonious fashion is beyond me. You would do well to forget such graphic imagery. I know that I will certainly try."

He wouldn't even entertain the idea that Sole would go through with meeting the man behind the picture, but in the off chance that they decided to tell him they wanted to, Danse would spend the remainder of the day convincing them otherwise. He would almost be tempted to go to the location himself in order to lecture the man for his crude and inexcusable behavior, and blatant disrespect to his companion, but in the end, he decides that the man is not worth his time.

Deacon:

Ginger eyebrows would raise slightly over the frames of the glasses for the briefest of moments before he recovered his cool demeanor.

"Ah shoot, did the postman just put it right back into the mail slot? Didn't mean for you to see that, my bad. Here, I'll just deliver it myself."

The sarcasm was evident in his voice as he strode forward and plucked the photo from Sole's hand, examining it for just a moment, and grimacing a bit at the sight.

"Man, Dr. Rich Cockwood does not photograph well. I swear, it's bigger in person." He'd wink at them before glancing down at the picture again, scrutinizing blue eyes pausing to peruse the words on the back as he folded the paper up to put into his pocket. He'd quickly change the subject, trying to keep Sole's mind off the whole thing as he devised a way to sneak out that night and get some intel on the asshole who decided it was a wise idea to put Sole in this position.

Hancock:

*Squints*

"Oh shit. Looks like you've got an admirer there, Sole. " In his sleepy state, it took Hancock a minute to figure out what he was even looking at. Upon realizing that it was, in fact, what he thought it had been, he takes the picture from Sole's grasp and flips it around to glance at the back.

"Look at that, you've even got a date tonight. Must be somewhere romantic, I can tell this guy's old school." He nodded, flipping the photo over to glance once again at the offensive imagery on the front. "Yeah, real traditional, I'd say. Hmm... Mind if I tag along? Could be fun." There was a certain sort of glint in the ghoul's eye that made Sole's spine tingle.

Perhaps neither of us should go... Sole thought, noticing how Hancock's other hand toyed absentmindedly with his combat knife as he furrowed his brows at the photo one last time, before shoving the paper into the pocket of his coat. There was a certain sort of intent behind his actions that made Sole re-think even showing him the image in the first place. Hancock had killed people over less; that, Sole knew for sure.

MacCready:

"Ahh! What the heck are you doing?! I don't need to see that!" He'd squeeze his eyes shut just as soon as he was able to make out the photo, shoving his hands in front of him as though they would be able to push the image out of his mind.

"It's too early for this, what the heck is that guy's problem?" MacCready shuddered as he pulled his hands slowly from where they covered his eyes, glancing quickly at Sole before lowering them down completely, a relieved expression on his face as realized the picture was no longer in his line of sight. Noting his dramatic reaction, Sole considered toying with the mercenary a bit. They asked him what was wrong with the image, stating that perhaps they would pay this man a visit tonight. It had been so long since they had been out on a date, might as well go for it, right?

MacCready's eyes would simultaneously furrow, and widen at their words as he stuttered, finally finding his voice after a moment of shocked, choked silence.

"What?!" He exclaimed, "You're not seriously thinking of going, are you? That guy seems like such an ass-- Well, he just-- I mean..." He took a breath, and Sole had to bite their lip to hold back their grin. "Look, not that it's really any of my business or anything, but... don't you think you could do better than that guy? Like... a lot better?"

Sole couldn't hold back their grin any longer, but MacCready wouldn't meet their gaze. Instead he looked down at the floor, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, a nearly unnoticeable blush spreading over his cheeks.

"That guy just seems like a real jerk, and you? Well... Yeah, you deserve better than that, I think." He finished rather awkwardly, finally looking up to meet Sole's gaze before returning their coy smile.

Nick:

The synth would a have a brief moment of raised eyebrows as he took in the details of the photograph, and then the inevitable scowl of disappointment would spread across his face.

"You know, you'd think this guy would understand that no one in their right mind wants to see that particular... angle. You don't think that's his good side, do ya?" Sole would smile a bit at that, and as the synth turned to walk away from the offensive image, they told him about the writing on the back.

"Hey now, wait a minute. You're not thinking of paying this guy a visit, are ya? If so, that's a pretty poor decision on your part, I think."

Sole would shake their head, telling Nick not to worry as he fixed his inquiring yellow gaze on them. He nodded in response, seeming satisfied by their answer. In the next moment, a thought seemed to claim his attention.

"Hmm... I think I might just know the perp, actually. Ellie's got a few reports back at the office mentioning some similar events. Guess it's possibly one of the guards on night duty who goes around with these to see if he gets any takers."

Sole almost spoke up, but as they opened their mouth, Nick's words seemed to take their idea straight from their head. "On second thought..." He said, "You got any plans for this evening?"

Piper:

"Ahh! Blue! Why would you show me that!?" She'd physically cover her eyes with her hands, taking a few steps back and away from the picture for good measure.

"Look, I don't care what you do with it," she'd tell them, "just don't let me see it again!"

Sole would thankfully oblige, but before disposing of the image, they showed Piper the writing on the back. At the sight of the man's suggestion, Piper snatched the photo from Sole's hand, glaring at it furiously.

"Ohhhh no he doesn't. If he's sent crap like this to anybody else, I'm going to make sure no one falls for this."

And Piper kept her word, as the next morning's addition of Publik Occurrences contained a small piece written on exactly this subject, titled: To the Asshole who sent the Sad Little Picture to a Disgusted Citizen; No One Wants to See That! Sincerely, Everyone who has.

Preston:

"O-- oh! Um, that's-- okay. That's just wrong. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?"

Preston's face would wrinkle up in his clear distaste before bringing a a hand up to shield his eyes. When Sole had lowered the picture, he removed his hand, and looked them in the eye, refusing to pay the photo any more attention, but extending his hand out to take it from them so he could dispose of it properly.

"Are you... okay? I can't believe how rude some people are. Who would want to see that?" He'd flash a sympathetic smile at them, as he folded up the photo and prepared to throw it away. He didn't read the back himself, but if they told him about the words that were written there, he wouldn't even entertain the idea of Sole going, just shaking his head in disappointment at the man's poor and rude way of trying in vain to woo his General.

"Some people... The nerve. If you don't mind me saying, General, you deserve much better than that anyway."

X6-88:

His eyes would be locked to Sole's, but as they presented the photo to him, his gaze would fall to the image, and an ever so slight furrowing of his brows would take place above his silver eyes. A brief moment would pass, and X6's gaze would be back on his companion's face.

"Ma'am/ sir, why did you feel the need to show me this?" He's also quite confused, this was not a common occurrence in the Institute, and once Sole gave him an explanation, his expression would remain blank. For the most part, anyway. A small huff of laughter would escape him, prompting Sole to be the one giving him the questioning look now.

"If this filthy wastelander believes he can disrespect the future director of the Institute without facing consequences, he is sorely mistaken." He said, his gaze unbroken as he made Sole this promise, "Don't worry, I will take care of this filth at the specified meeting time and location. You will not hear from him again."

He doesn't necessarily intend to kill the man for his unseemly behavior; X6 is a courser after all, and he knew this man would be scared shitless if X6 were to so much as look at him the wrong way, but should the man make any... poor decisions in response to the courser's confrontation, well... certainly X6 can't be held responsible for the behavior, or the fate, of a mere stranger now, could he? Especially after his heinous actions.

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sevendeadlymorons · 4 years ago

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Hiii! Could I have a smut of Levi walking in on you watching hentai? Thank youu!

I’ve wanted to do this one for aaages :))

Invaded Privacy

Pairing: Levi x GN!MC

Words: 2,578

NSFW // Smut // Vulgar Language

———————————————

The room was silent. You could hear the peaceful ticking of the clock on the wall behind you as you flicked through your phone, the occasional tap of your fingernail hitting the screen. You always ended your nights this way; sprawled out in bed under your cosy blankets as you watched the hours fly by, and before you knew it, it was already 2 in the morning. You yawned and rolled onto your front. I guess a little wouldn’t hurt, you thought to yourself as you tapped on a button on your phone that led to the internet, beginning to type in the new erotic hentai you researched earlier that day.

You started it up and pressed play, the voice of a female character echoing around the room as you fumbled to grab your headphones, quickly untangling them and putting them in your ears to listen in complete privacy. It was quite common for the boys to just walk in to your room in the middle of the night, especially Belphie. But you noticed Levi had started to enter in the dead of night a few nights a week after finding out you were a night owl too. You turned around and peered over at the door, watching it carefully to make sure nobody was going to walk in as the moans of the video filled your ears. You started to relax and lay back on your front, your back to the door. You convinced yourself that nobody would walk in tonight and eventually turned up the volume, the moans of the girl getting louder.

You watched as the guy in the video ran his hands over the female’s body, accentuating her curves and causing her to bite her lower lip as his hands stopped right between her thighs. She squeezed them shut; her breathing heavy and rough as the boy dug deeper, inching ever closer to her privates. Your breathing hitched as she gasped and attached her arms around his neck, letting him easily slip his hand inside her panties and play with her clit. You cursed under your breath and slipped your hands inside your pants to pleasure yourself. Your mind was strayed completely away from the fact anyone could walk in and see you right now, but you didn’t care. You should feel comfortable in your room and that’s exactly what you were going to do. You touched yourself to the sounds of the moans, drawn in to the way her breasts bounced from the force and the way the guy pounded into her, grabbing tightly of her tits and moulding them in his hands. You let out strings of strained moans, your hand going faster inside your underwear now as you raised your hips, feeling your gut pool up with sweet arousal.

You bite down on your pillow and foolishly turn up the volume to its full capacity, completely ignoring the sound of a knock coming from the door behind you. You were too busy with your hand in your pants and your face pressed to the pillow to hear the sound of Levi’s voice asking to come in.

He didn’t get an answer so he was about to walk away, thinking you were sleeping, but instead decided maybe you just had your headphones in? You’d asked to borrow some from him earlier, so perhaps you were still using them? He slowly began to open the door, but quickly noticed the sounds of heavy breathing coming from your bed. He opened the door up a bit more and peeked inside; the blood immediately rushing from his face as he saw you under the covers, your face pressed to the pillows with your hand covering your mouth. The muffled sounds of your lewd moans echoed in his ears and he felt his legs tremble, his heart racing in his chest as he stood in fear and embarrassment. He eyes the video displaying on your phone, noticing it was this popular hentai he’d seen online earlier. He slaps his hand over his mouth as he hears the slight sounds of groans and screams blasting from your earphones, watching over your shoulder as the characters fuck in confusing positions.

He feels his face get hot and he stepped closer inside impulsively, shutting the door a bit too loud behind him, but you still didn’t hear him, instead, you continue to murmur and moan into your palm as Levi quickly notices your hand rubbing at yourself inside your pants. He steps closer, his breathing unsteady. He has no control over himself in that moment; his dick hard for you while he imagines himself touching you all over to the background noises of the hentai on your phone. He was only a few steps away from you now and could properly see the state you were in. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your brow was furrowed, your ass lifted into the air ever so slightly as you fucked yourself. You took your hand away from your mouth suddenly, causing Levi to flinch and properly hear the sound of your moans. You looked like you were enjoying yourself with your lips slightly parted and your tongue slipped out.

He palms at his crotch through his sweats, trying to create friction after watching you melt right in front of him. He was stood right behind you. He daringly leaned over you, so close to your neck that he was sure you could feel his breath tickle your skin. He watched it with you, palming at himself at the thought of you being completely clueless of his presence. It was risky to him and he found a thrill in it, proceeding to take out his cock and stroke himself only inches away from your ass, covering his mouth in case you’d hear him.

Minutes go by and you still hadn’t noticed him. The video was coming to a finish and seemingly so were you. Your breathing was hitching more often and you were panting, your moans loud and clear now as you whined in pleasure. He could see your body shake and tremble under the covers, his cock twitching at the sight as he picked up the pace, a few unwanted moans slipping out near your ear. He held his breath, afraid you’d see him in this dirty state of his, but instead, as soon as you finished, he heard you call out his name in this lustful tone. Had you been thinking about him? The thought pushed him over the edge and he soon found himself cumming, his load dirtying your sheets and making them sticky and white.

You felt something wet touch your exposed skin on the back of your neck and you quickly pulled out your earphones and turned around to see a dark shadow looming over you. You gasped and was paralysed in fear of being caught. Your eyes soon adjust to the darkness and you recognise the dark shadow to actually be... Levi bending over you. His eyes were wide and filled with panic, but also with lust. A sight you’d never seen before from him.

You two sat in awkward silence for what felt like hours but must’ve been seconds. You didn’t know what to say. What could you say in this situation? You continued to stare up at him, your eyes sometimes darting down at the cock in his hands, watching a string of his left over cum leak onto the sheets.

You take a deep breath and decide to say something to him after not being able to take anymore of this painful silence. “Levi-“ He cuts you off suddenly by crashing his lips on to yours, his hands traveling to your hair to pull on it as he pushes his tongue past your sealed lips to explore your mouth. You stare at him in surprise and push him off, watching his eyes turn into those of a puppy while he pouts at you, but still leans forward to get closer to you, cock still in hand. “Levi, what are you-“

“Please, MC...” He whines, inching closer to your lips with this desperate look on his face as he pulls you into another kiss, but this time, you let him, joining in and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you in a heated pile of lewd, wet noises. You grabbed Levi’s cock in your hand, feeling him gasp on your lips but push into you, allowing your hands to wrap around his length and jerk him off slowly. He moans your name on your lips and tightens his grip on your hair, then sliding his hand down to grasp your waist.

You were already lying in pretty much nothing in the first place anyway, your shorts riding up your thighs as Levi brushes against them and your loose shirt falling off your shoulders, exposing them. You feel him pull the covers off you and drag you up to sit on his lap, his lips never leaving yourself as he snakes his hands round to squeeze your ass, making you jump and rub against him. He groans slightly and pulls you closer, slipping his fingers beneath your clothes and messing with your underwear. You hear him curse under his breath as his fingers trace over your underwear line. His kisses were messy and rushed now, as if he wasn’t concentrating. You rub his cock faster and feel his hands dig deeper into your clothing, his fingers very close to your sensitive area.

You begin to strip him of his shirt, listening to him whine and beg for you to take over. You throw it aside and run your hands over his chest, caressing him and feeling up his defined abs. You smirk against his lips as a dirty idea forms in your mind and you quickly push him down, crawling on top of him playfully as you sit on top of his erect cock, staring down at his pleading face. Those puppy eyes were back; his hands wandering over your hips and back as he grabbed for any exposed skin that he could find on you. He tugged on your shirt, begging for you to take it off for him, to which you agree and strip down in front of him, exposing your chest and stomach. He leans forward to play with your nipples, taking them in his mouth as his hands explore your bare back, tracing his finger down your spine and making you shiver against him.

You slip off your shorts, watching him gawk, his shy side arising from the mere sights of you sat in your underwear. He couldn’t believe this was happening, thoughts racing around in his head while he watched you take off the last piece of clothing you had on and position yourself over his cock, his tip against your hole, threatening to force its way inside you. You took a deep breath and stared down at Levi beneath you, your hands on his chest while you slowly slid his cock inside of you, his length filling you up nicely until you had taken him in whole, your ass pressed to his crotch as you grinder on him playfully. His hands gripped the sheets at the new sensation of your body wrapped around his dick. You were so tight, he thought he was going to cum again with only one thrust.

He gripped onto your hips and lifted you up slightly, getting increasingly impatient from the lack of movement you were giving him, then thrusts you down on to him, listening to you gasp and let out a small moan. He moved you up and down on top of him, loving the way your face twisted into a look of pure pleasure and your lips into a vulgar smile because of him. You were making him feel so good, better than he’d ever felt before. Was this what it felt like? He wanted more.

He sat up and hugged your body, making you bounce faster on top of him now, listening to your moans pick up and become louder and more lewd. He fondled your ass and thighs then moved his way up to your neck, gripping it firmly and making you look at him while he fucked you senselessly, enjoying every moan that came out your mouth. “Do you like that?” He eventually spoke in a seductive voice, one that you’d never heard him utter before. You felt your gut once again pool up with even more arousal at the sheer sound of my voice, your only thought being to nod as no words seemed to leave your lips when you tried. You could only gasp and stammer as he filled you up entirely, his cock hitting your sweet spot so perfectly you could hardly stop yourself from crying out his name.

He held your chin and guided your lips to his, his other hand tightening it’s grip on your flesh, his nails digging into you as it left marks and bruises. He wanted everybody to know you were his. He wanted to claim you all over, remind everyone that he was the one who caught you watching hentai and moaning his name in that weak, seductive voice of yours and now he’s the one who’s going to leave evidence in you that he was once here, in your bed, making you ride him until your legs shook and you eventually came for him.

He picked up the pace and licked from your ear down to your collarbone, biting down and drawing blood, a yelp escaping your lips from the sudden gesture as a small trickle of blood ran down your chest. You moaned as he licked at his fresh bite, his cock slamming into you so fiercely now that you thought you’d split in two.

Moments passed and you felt like you were close, giving Levi these big pleading eyes and running your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. You saw him lean forward towards your ear, his hot breath tingling against his skin as he whispers demandingly, something he’s never really done before “Cum for me”. That was all it took for you to come undone, abiding his command as you came on his dick, the sudden tightening of your walls causing him to finish with you, filling you up with his load, trickles of his semen leaking out of you when he pulls out.

You couldn’t speak, you could barely remember your name as you collapse on to him and pant into his ear. He wraps his arms shyly around your waist, his timid side coming back now that he’s finally realised what it is he’s just done with you. You could barely keep your eyes open for much longer, your legs still shaking from the aftershock and your heartbeat pounding in your chest. You sigh and close your eyes, cosying up to Levi’s neck and giving it a small peck, knowing that if you were to look at him right now, his face would be bright red. Neither of you spoke, you were enjoying each others company and embrace as you began to fall asleep, his hand coming up to caress your hair, ultimately lulling you to sleep. You heard him mumble a single ‘thank you’ under his breath as soon as you drifted off to sleep, content with the night and entrusting yourself in Levi’s care.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #levi smut #omnsfw #obey me fanfic

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parkers-gal · 4 years ago

Text

the late late show T.H.

wc: 1.4k (fluff)

ariana grande!reader and tom on the late late show for spill your guts or fill your guts

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Y/N said, a grimacing smile on her face as she sat down.

The cameras weren't rolling yet, so her & Tom's microphones were still getting set up and clipped on.

Y/N's Zach Sang radio interview had quite literally blown up all over the internet. Though it had only been released about a week ago, it already had 30 million views, and thousands of comments. No doubt, tonight's live Late Late Show would have tons of viewers.

Tom grinned at her, slightly mischievous. "It'll be fun, love."

"That's what they always say," she replied.

Before Tom could say anything else, the producer was counting down and crew members were shushing the crowd as a red light blinked on and the show began.

"Hi, I'm Tom Holland," he introduced himself, looking directly at the camera. "And this my wife, Y/N Holland-"

"I hyphenated," she cut in.

Tom looked at her and chuckled before continuing, "and this is Spill Your Guts or Fill your Guts."

"Explain to the world the misery we have to go through," Y/N commented, making brief eye contact with Tom before breathing out a laugh.

"Right," he laughed. "So, one of us asks the other a question from the cards and you have to answer truthfully or-" he looked down at the food. "Eat whichever food the person has picked for them."

"Alright," Y/N said. "Let's see what we got then, shall we?"

" 'Course darlin'."

Y/N blushed before spinning the table to a random dish. "We have salmon smoothie," she spoke with a grimace. "And a thousand year old eggnog."

Tom made a 'yuck' sound, and the audience laughed at them. "Here's bird saliva," Tom said.

"And bull penis."

"Ah, the bull penis," Tom said.

"Oh shut your trap," Y/N laughed. "And we have bug trifle."

"Jellyfish," Tom said. "That shouldn't be too bad, right?" he asked.

"Guess you'll find out," Y/N laughed at him.

"You wouldn't dare," he challenged.

"Watch me."

Both of them laughed before continuing.

"Giant water scorpion," Y/N said with another grimace. "Cow blood and-" she playfully gagged. "And pork tongue jelly," she finished.

"And lastly, we have cod sperm," Tom grinned.

"Oh god."

"Let's start then!" he said, smiling. His accent was thick, and it seemed as though he didn't even bother trying to tame his hair.

Y/N, on the other hand, was wearing one of Tom's sweaters. It was oversized on her, and colored beige. Her hair was in a low ponytail and her white acrylic nails showed slightly out of her sweater paws. She had butterfly clips in her hair and her feet were fitted with thick, white Filas.

"I suppose so," she said, sounding like a kid that had just been denied some ice cream.

"Should I go first or you?"

"Uh, me."

Tom picked up a card and tried to suppress a laugh. "Okay, let's go with... a thousand year old eggnog."

"Ew, Thomas. What the fuck, it smells so-" she gagged playfully again. "Ugh, I'm gonna get you back."

"You haven't even heard the question yet!" he laughed, his eye crinkles growing.

"It's due to be bad though!" She defended, laughing with him. "C'mon, Tommy. I wanna get this," she sniffed the eggnog, "over with."

"Okay," he paused to laugh after rereading the card. "You have previously stated that track seven, or 'make up,' of your upcoming album is inspired by, co-written, and about me."

"Correct."

"What is the song about? .. and give us one lyric or line."

"Oh god," Y/N covered her face with her hands. "I am not doing this."

"It's the question or the eggnog, baby. Though you might need a mint after you drink that," he laughed.

"Uhm," Y/N glanced around, taking another whiff of the eggnog before setting it down on it's tray. "Make up is about... int-imacy after an argument," she stuttered out.

Tom was laughing now, a blush present on his cheeks at her confession. "Alright, the lyric now."

"Uhm... do I sing it or just.. s-say it?"

"Saying it's kinda awkward, lovie."

"Okay," she dragged out her reply. "Bring you to the bed where we can really make it right, sorry-in-a-box so when it pops, surprise, surprise," Y/N sang.

The audience responded immediately, the lyrics clear with their meaning. The couple was blushing intensely, Y/N almost regretting the snippet she just released. When she made eye contact with Tom again, he lip synced 'it'll be okay. I love you,' and she nodded her head and picked up a card.

"Okay, I'll give you..." she spoke after a few moments. "The bull penis."

Tom's jaw dropped open in surprise. "I think we should save that for you, darling."

"Thomas!" Y/N gasped. "Shut the fuck up, or so help me-"

His laugh interrupted her, and he blew her a kiss. She rolled her eyes playfully before asking the question from the card.

"Have you ever.." Y/N laughed. "Gotten off to one of my songs?"

Tom's jaw went slack as his eyes widened. He glanced towards the audience, then back to his wife, in complete disbelief. "I do not want to answer that!" he choked out.

Y/N laughed at him, "It's just a yes or no question, Tommy."

"Easy for you to say!"

Tom glanced towards the audience one last time before taking the bull penis in one bite. The true disgust on his face as he chewed made Y/N laugh harder than ever, the crowd joining her.

"I cannot believe you just did that!" she said, holding her stomach while laughing. She wiped her eyes, and Tom turned to spit the food out into his bucket, before gulping down some water and playfully gagging, a shutter running through his body.

"Next question," he said. Picking up a card, he glanced to foods displayed in front of him, before deciding which Y/N would eat. "I'll give you... bug trifle."

"Tommyyyy," Y/N whined.

He laughed before reading the question. "Out of all my movies, which ones the worst?"

A chorus of "oo's" went around the audience as Y/N's jaw dropped. She looked down at the food before glancing to the audience for a split second, making brief eye contact with Tom before taking a bite out of the food. Everybody gasped, her lack of words making it all the more dramatic. When she finished chewing, drinking some water, she picked up the next card and spun the table.

"Next question-"

"Y/N!"

"What?"

"You just- y-you- you just ate that!"

"Yeah?" she asked. "I wasn't gonna answer that question."

Tom's face softened at her, a small smile forming as fast as the blush on his cheeks.

"Okay, I'll give you... codsperm."

"Again, we should probably save that for you," he giggled mischievously.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes before asking the question. "Which of my albums do you hate the most? And... why?" She asked the question rather slowly, hesitant to see how he'd respond. She most definitely had better works than some, but she loved everything she put out into the music industry, and she only hoped Tom felt the same.

"Uhm-" Tom said, glancing between his wife and the food in front of him for a good minute.

Y/N squinted her eyes shut, afraid of his response, if there was one coming. Tom could sense her discomfort, not only in the question but how he would answer, so he reached across the table to hold her hand, before using his other to eat the dish sitting in front of him. Putting the fork down, his face showed disgust once again, but Y/N was watching him now, a blush on her cheeks too, and a very grateful smile adorned on her face.

After a considerable amount of time of Tom chewing, Y/N burst. "Just spit it out!"

"Well," Tom said dramatically. "He picked up his bucket before turning to the audience, "Spit or swallow?"

Everyone laughed, including Y/N, and Tom spit it out into the bucket before drinking some water.

"That was Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts! I'm Tom Holland, and this is Y/N Holland, and we'll be right back!" He finished.

The red light went off, and a crew member from backstage handed both celebrities a packet of mints. Y/N went to hug Tom, wrapping her arms around his neck as his securely wrapped around her waist.

"Love you."

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demonsman · 3 years ago

Note

Can I request Dark x reader where the reader is maybe making some kinda sweet like cupcakes or cookies or something and when they finish they bring a few to Dark and they're a little tense about it but also excited to see his reaction?

hello! hope you enjoy this! i enjoyed writing this was a lot of fun to write, hope you are all good

You had been baking all day, and it had been a lot of fun. You had seen a cool looking recipe on the internet for red velvet cake, you just had to try them. they looked too nice not to try, plus you believe it was a certain somenes favourite cake.

it wasn't too complicated either!

Currently, you were in the kitchen, trying to clean up the mess with the flour you had made on the marble countertops, you untied your apron, that you had borrowed from google, you put it on the kitchen island. You then moved over to the sink and started to soak the mixing bowl and utensils. when they were good and soaking, you got another bowl and got the butter cream ready.

after that, you kneeled down in front of the oven and opened the door, you wanted to test the cake, it had been in for about 30 minutes, you got a knife, and stabbed the cake, the texture seemed good and it came out clear, you smiled and grabbed a tea towel and moved it onto a drying wire tray. you flipped it very carefully, after a small heart attack, one tier came out beautifully! taking out the second tier, less nicely, you flipped it without any serious consequences.

you left it cool, while you scrolled on your phone, after laughing at a few memes, and replying to the manor's group chat, multiple times. Wilford had done something again and google was shouting at him, and Illinois had just come home after a big adventure.

you kept the cake a secret for now. you pocketed your phone and cleaned your hands. you touched the cake to test the temperature. it was cooler and ready for iccing!

you got out a knife and put some icing in the middle, and stuck the slabs of cake together, after some positioning it stayed. you lathered the rest of the cake in icing, sneaking some taste test every so often of the icing, you couldn't help yourself!

and there, your master piece was finished! you were quite proud, and just in time too, because both Yancy and Illinois poked their heads around the corner.

"what's cooking- good looking?" Illinois southern voice sounded out, as you laughed at the over-used line. he looked like had just gotten out of the shower, you didn't blame him at all. his hair was still wet. but his hat was still on.

"cake! red velvet to be specific" you showcased the cake behind you, and let them look at your creation. illinois let out a quit whitle while yancy patted you on the back

"how'd you know that is my my fave?" he joked

"you guys want a piece?" they both nodded quite vigerously you smiled back, when you got a knife from the drying rack. you cut them both a slice and yourself, and dark a piece. it was a secret, but you knew that red velvet was his favourite. you didnt know how you knew that, you just did.

"they are ready when you are" you smiled and you picked up the two pieces of cake.

"hey wait, are youse not eating with us?" yancy questioned, standing infront of you, you shook your head and gestured to the cakes "i promised i'd deliever these when they were done"

yancy shrugged and smiled when he turned around to accompony illinois witht he cake.

you felt kinda bad for not eating with them, but you had been looking forward to giving dark a piece of cake you made since you had the idea. you walked through the hallways and up the stairs trying to steer clear of Wilford because he would steal thecakes you were holding. he was a sweet theif. when you got up the last flight of stairs, the excitement bubbling in your chest was slowly turning into something else.

what if he didnt like it? what if he was busy or in bad mood. you shook your head clear of those thoughts and breathed out shakily. it should be fine. hopefully he isnt busy.

you got slightly more worried and tried to compose yourself till you were outside the tall wooden door. you breathed out and realised you couldnt knock on the door. because your hands were full of cake, so you balenced it on your other arm, and knocked on the door. you heared a noise of approval so you walked in and closed the door behind you.

it was always cold and dark in his room. like him, he had books and books lining his shelves and his desk was in the middle, he had a sofa at the other end of the room. the desk was of oak wood, with his laptiop and papers around it. there was a plush seat infront of the desk, he was in a tall woodeden chair, alot like a throne.

you walked slowly up to the desk, his head was down and he was typing something, he heared movement, and closed the laptop. his shell was craking and screaming, red was ovepowering any time of blue that you could see. he looked up and saw you, on the other side of the desk.

"i thought, maybe you would like some cake?" you slightly smiled and out stretched the cake. he looked between you and the cake. then back at you. he looked confused. has no one offered him cake before? he nodded, and took it.

you took a seat, and tooka bite of yours, you tried to look at him eat his, but you didnt want to seem creepy, but you couldnt help it. you both ate in silence. but not an awkaward silence, a cpmfortabel silence. it was nice and slow and comfy. you loved it. and he did too.

you both finished and he collected the plates. "uh, thank you for the cake, y/n. it was...really good" just how you used to make it, he wanted to say, but he refrained from doing so. he smiled at you. you also notice that his shell wasn't as bad any more. he seemed more relaxed. more blue was peaking out, you smiled and was inwardly glad tyour cake had de stressing powers.

"you're welcome dark."

#darkiplier x reader #x reader

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junicai · 4 years ago

Text

Aria at Award Shows

Iconic Outfits

2020 AAAs NCT Daesang Award

Peoples’ jaws dropped when they saw Aria sidle up alongside the other 23 boys, strolling out like she owned the building. The heels gave her enough height to be nearly level with Renjun - something she wouldn’t let the boy forget - her hair dyed back to a natural black like it had been during NCT2020 promotions. It was rare that Aria didn’t look slightly apprehensive about stepping out onto a red carpet, but the confidence was rolling off her in waves. As she walked, the slit in the dress seemed to keep on going, trailing up her leg and changing the otherwise classy dress into something that left the innocent bystanders in the first row suffering from a high chance of a heart attack.

tldr; Aria’s hot and people are Noticing.

2019 Show Champion NCT 127 ‘Superhuman’

NCT’s second win with Superhuman left a huge divide in nctzens; a rift between those who were ot21 stans and ot22 stans (sans and plus Aria). Up until then, there had been rumors around whether Aria was to leave NCT now that there was a new girl group supposedly debuting under SM. Their management team had refrained from publishing a response - but that only lead fans to create their own speculations and theories. This outfit played perfectly into the growing rumor; with the large circular pendant on Aria’s bracelet having two chrysanthemums etched into the gold. The flower symbolized happy endings and goodbyes, with nctzens taking this as the proof that Aria was truly set to leave NCT in the coming months.

tldr; nctzens need to learn how to Chill.

2017 M! Countdown NCT 127 ‘Cherry Bomb’

Unfortunately, this era was the cause of a lot of strife for Arizens; the stylists either hit it out of the park and Aria was drop dead stunning - or she ended up looking a little like a bratz doll a toddler had gotten their hands on. Unfortunately for Aria, their first win with ‘Cherry Bomb’ left pictures of her in a plastic, obviously dyed blue skirt and cherry pink hair to match immortalized on the internet forever.

tldr; arizens hoped that her stylist got fired after this era. the plastic skirt wasn't the worst thing they'd done.

Other Iconic Outfits

Seating Arrangements

Depending on the venue, idols are normally sat on straight rows of chairs and benches, or at round tables. Given the choice, Aria would always prefer to sit at one of the tables, as not only does it give her a chance to not have to worry about her legs being seen while being covered by the tablecloth - if there is one - but it lets her keep everyone sitting near her in her direct line of vision.

However, should she have to sit in one of the main rows, she’ll normally end up squished beside one of three boys - Donghyuck, Yuta and/or Renjun. Should one of those three be unaviliable, Doyoung and Jeno are usually quick enough to fill in the empty space.

Donghyuck would always be her first choice, was it not for the boy’s incessant energy that sometimes left her nerves fried before their performance. Most days she adored the company - adored him and his efforts to get her mind off their impending songs with various games and ways to pass the time (they're not allowed play footsie anymore though, because Aria stomped on his foot with her heel once) - but other days she just needed someone to hold her hand and say nothing. That’s where Yuta and Renjun come in.

As Aria’s found out over the years, for all the man’s tactile affection and loud displays of love, Yuta’s highly perceptive to when she needs some silent comfort. Now, she’s not sure if he’s that perceptive to everyone or just her - but either way she’s not complaining.

With Dream, Renjun is the one she’ll sit with and doodle on the white napkins that are laid out on the table for lord knows what reason. After being bored out of their minds for their first few award shows, Renjun had snuck two black ballpoint pens into the venue in the inside of his red suit jacket. The drawings had become somewhat a tradition, and the best doodle normally is uploaded to bubble shortly after the show has ended.

All in all, Aria’s normally quite content to sit in the centre of the large group of boys - split over several rows or tables, boisterous and bubbly with energy. The only real downside to it all is the lack of blankets available to protect her modesty once she is seated.

Most venues split the idols fairly evenly between the boy and girl groups - with blankets being allocated especially for the seating of girl groups. This meant, unfortunately, that when NCT files into their seats and sits down, there is rarely something in the close vicinity that Aria can borrow quickly without causing a fuss.

Sometimes she gets lucky - other female idols might spot her and are normally kind enough to hand over one of their cushions or blankets, content to share with their neighboring member. Occasionally though, Aria has no such luck and is left to either pull down her dress multiple times per minute to cover the prickly feeling over the tops of her legs when she felt like eyes were boring into her, or wait for some kind of break so she could go find a spare covering.

Aria supposed after the third time something like that had happened, her members were getting fed up with it all.

At first it was their plan B: should some type of cover-up not be available in their immediate vicinity, Johnny or Lucas or Jaehyun - once, even Dejun - or another member who ran hot near-constantly would shrug off their jacket and fold it over Aria’s legs, pulling it up and then lifting her hands to place them in her lap to hold their jacket there.

Eventually it became their plan A however, now commonplace for Aria to go looking for the member who was wearing multiple layers and who wouldn’t suffer from the loss of their outermost one.

Iconic Moments

Twitter: [180821] and people rly say nct doesn’t care abt aria :/

Red carpets were always something to dread, in Aria’s eyes.

The cameras flashing bright enough to blind you, and the knowledge that if she stumbled or - god forbid - fell it would be immortalized forever on Koreaboo’s newest blog post.

However the worst bit, was always the footwear. High, stiletto heels that left her teetering around on nothing more than her tippy-toes, precariously balanced as she made her way up and down stairs, over carpet and tiled flooring alike.

Aria was used to wearing heels, but the one’s she performed in were usually fitted with various types of ankle support and a thick heel to give her balance. Wobbling around on a heel the same width of a piece of uncooked spaghetti was not something she’d willingly choose.

Not to mention the blisters.

Designer shoes were gifted to the company on a regular basis - shipped over just in time for Aria to slip into the pair before stepping out of the van into the sea of bright flashes and reporters. It always seemed like designers were too pre-occupied with making a shoe look good rather than making them actually wearable.

The first time Aria had been gifted a set of heels - early 2018 - she made the mistake of assuming that they would be in similar comfort as her performance heels.

Two hours later and with a wad of bloody tissue stuffed into the back of them, Aria had learnt her lesson.

From then on, it was commonplace for Aria to bandage her heels before she went out to shows - not quite as heavily as she normally would for a performance, but just enough to stop the skin splitting under the constant abrasion.

She’d only been caught out badly once - but it was all caught on camera by a fan sitting close by, and spread over twitter like wildfire.

Aria had limped her way back over to where NCT 127 was sitting, lips pressed together in a tight line and hands clenched in the tight material of the leather trousers she had been given to wear. The trousers stopped a few inches above her ankles, so the red mess of her heels was clearly visible as she hobbled over and sat down with a thud onto the seat.

Donghyuck placed a hand on Aria’s shoulder, leaning in so that he could see her face behind the curtain of hair that she had let fall to hide her tear-filled eyes from him.

“Riri?” Donghyuck whispered to her, thumb beginning to rub soothing circles into her arm. “Hey, Riri? What’s going on?”

Aria only shook her head, gesturing to the pair of torturous heels on her feet.

Donghyuck inhaled sharply when he saw the blood trailing up her leg and soaking into the back of the heel. He turned to his side to elbow Doyoung, grabbing his attention.

“Hyung. Hyung.” He hissed, Doyoung turning around with an over-exaggerated sigh.

“No, Hyuck, I told you I’m not going to-” Doyoung cut himself off upon seeing Aria’s pain-filled face. “Aria? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Donghyuck slid off his seat onto the ground despite Aria’s protests that the floor wasn’t clean, get up, and explained what had happened to his hyung. Sliding her heel off as slowly as he could to not pull at the skin more, he muttered apologizes to Aria as she inhaled a shaky breath before exhaling it on a small, wet cry.

“Hyung, did you bring anything for Taeyong-hyung’s shoulder that we could use?”

“Yeah, yeah I did give me two seconds.” Doyoung bent into the small bag that he had tucked underneath the seat, pulling out a length of bandage that was stowed away in the outermost pocket.

Donghyuck took it from Doyoung’s hands with a small ‘thank you’, moving to kneel back down in front of Aria and taking her ankle back into his lap.

“Hyuck, no I got it, c’mon the ground isn��t clean-”

He silenced her with a look. Aria settled back into her chair - defeated - and Donghyuck wrapped the bandage around her heel as quickly but as painlessly as he could manage.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Twitter: [190323] HSHS ARIA IS A CARAT WE’VE WON LADIES N GENTS

Maybe Aria should have been paying more attention to the camera that was slowly panning around the idols, projecting their faces up onto a large screen beside the stage, but she was too engrossed in the current group’s performance.

“그렇다고 네 맘이 작다는 게 아냐,” Swaying gently side to side and mouthing along to the lyrics, Aria was happy enough to smile along to the song and move her hands in a small mimickery of the choreography she’d taught herself off the group’s dance practice video she’d watched only a few dozen times.

It wasn’t until Mark poked her in the side that Aria broke out from her own little bubble, twisting her head to look back at him and then up at the screen when he pointed.

There, her face, staring back at her from the big screen was enough to make her mouth drop open a little bit and her eyes widen. She clapped a hand to her mouth before turning to hide her face in Jaehyun’s shoulder, shaking with embarassed laughter.

Aria could hear Taeyong’s teasing laugh in return, before a hand came and ruffled the hair on top of her head, that she swatted away.

--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Twitter: [170911] lmao same aria

Aria knew she was there.

She knew that she was sitting right there and that she was in one of those really skimpy dresses stylists loved to put girls in because apparently female idols don’t deserve modesty and Aria knew that she had a blanket for once and she should share it but oh my god.

It was Chungha.

Aria was going to pass out.

Taking side glances every few seconds only confirmed the fact that Chungha was pulling down her dress to cover as much of her legs as possible, tucking her ankles together and underneath the seat.

Ok.

Ok, she could do this.

Aria took a steeling breath, before shifting on her seat to face Chungha on more of a diagonal. She lifted her hand before lowering it slighly, looking away.

Should she- no ok she’s doing this.

Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, Aria moved to rest her hand on Chungha’s arm. The older woman jerked slightly - startled - and Aria was quick to apologize.

There was no audio in the video uploaded - the original poster having been too far away to capture much - but the two women talked for a moment before Chungha pointed to the blanket and then herself.

Aria nodded emphatically, and Chungha’s face crumpled into something fond, bowing her head in thanks before they unfolded the blanket another time and Chungha scooted an inch closer to Aria so they’d both fit.

Chungha sent Aria another grateful smile before refocusing on the performances - apparently not noticing, or perhaps choosing not to comment on the rather obvious red tinge that the younger idol’s cheeks had taken on.

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endlinetheredeath · 3 years ago

Text

Arrested

“KEZEKET A LEVEGŐBE!”(Hands in the air!) came a strained raspy voice trough a loudspeaker

I was squinting hard as my eyes adjusted to the harsh light, my right arm still blocking a large portion of it. Nak was looking much worse, his eyes closed, shut tight, both his upper arms blocking as much light as possible, his face contorted in a painful grimace. His eyes likely much more light sensitive than mine trading range for better night vision, evolution in this instance was a bitch to him, the police floodlights must have almost blinded him.

Before i could process what the voice even said i heard a bunch of feet quickly shuffle towards us and in the next moment both of us were tackled to the ground. The team of officers quickly cuffed us, pulled us back to our feet and stuffed us in the patrol cars that were just behind the lights.

**************

Time passed and minutes became hours, on the bridge Kiela was getting more and more nervous, pacing back and forth.

“Where IS he, he should have been back long ago...”

The place where Nak had landed on Earth was behind the planets moon at this point as well as they themselves were laying low in orbit of the next planet in the system that they now knew was called Mars and didn’t want to risk discovery just yet, so for now they were blind to what was happening on Earth.

“Try hailing the captain again!” she ordered one of her subordinates

A couple quick clicks could be heard and then...

“Captain this is the Terkwrat, do you copy...”

“... “The line remained silent, the comms officer tried again...

“Captain Nakqr’ this is the Terkwrat, DO you copy?...”

“... “The result was again, the same.

Another 10 minutes pass, the ships scopes all trained on the spot where the shuttle landed on Earth behind the moon, all waiting for the big rock to move so they could finally see. The minutes dragged ever so slowly as the crew nervously waited, then they started to see flashing blue and red lights and the shuttle illuminated by dozens of large harsh white lights. Around the craft they were able to see a small army of people scrambling everywhere... they knew immediately, things have gone terribly wrong in the past couple hours.

**************

The cops took us to the nearest police station in separate cars and now i was sitting in an interrogation room, alone and nervous. One of the walls had a huge one-way mirror, I’m sure they are watching me, either waiting for the right moment to burst in to intimidate me the most or are currently trying to get Nak to talk or worse.

“Shit...” i said under my breath. I shifted in the chair lookin around, nervously rubbing my chin.

Out of nowhere the door to the room almost exploded, a detective stood in the doorway. He sighed angrily and stepped into the room. I looked up at him my eyes narrowed slightly my face became serious and I could feel my nervousness pulling back deep within my body. I watched as the detective made his way to the table that i was seated at and sat before me.

“Hol van..”(Where is..) I was cut off by him

“NEM te vagy aki itt a kérdéseket felteszi...”(You are NOT the one who is asking the questions here) he pointed a finger at me “TE szépen válaszolni fogsz minden kérdésre amit felteszek és HA kielégítőnek találom a válaszaid akkor TALÁN nem mész a bíróság elé hazaárulásért...”(YOU will answer my every question that i ask and IF i find your answers satisfactory then MAYBE you wont be put in front of a court for treason...)

“M M MI!? Hazaárulás? Mi a faszt csináltam én, hogy hazaárulással vádol!?”(Wha Wha What?! Treason? What the fuck did i do that you are accusing me with treason.)

“Állami titkokat árultál el ismeretlen erőknek amivel aláástad az ország de talán a bolygó biztonságát.”(You have disclosed state secrets whereby you undermined the security of the country or maybe even the planet.)

“MILYEN ÁLLAMI TITKOKAT, semmilyen titkokról sem tudok. Egy kicseszett szerelő és hobbi pilóta vagyok az isten szerelmére.”(WHAT STATE SECRETS, i don’t know of any secrets. For god’s sake I’m an F-ing mechanic and a hobby pilot.) I sighed “Ok nézze, igen beszélgettünk jó pár dologról, DE semmi olyat nem tudok s ezáltal semmi olyan ‘érzékenyet’ nem tudok elfecsegni ami ne lenne könnyedén elérhető az interneten, csak kérdezze mag Nakot.”(Ok look, yes we have talked about quite a few things, BUT i don’t know anything that isn’t easily available on the internet therefor i can’t divulge anything that’s ‘sensitive’, just ask Nak.)

The detective looked me over with a cold gaze as i was on my tirade then just said...

“Tehát Nak a neve...” (So it’s name is Nak...) he leaned back in his chair.

I blinked a couple times and lifted my head a little in confusion before saying

“Várjunk csak egy kicsit ... még nem beszéltek vele?”(Wait hold up... you haven’t talked to him yet?

Just as I finished the sentence the door to the interrogation room opened again but this time the figure that stood in the door was less angry and more worried.

“Nyomozó ennek itt és most vége. Tamást most azonnal engedje el az űrlénnyel együtt.”(Detective this ends right here right now. You will release Thomas and the alien this instant.)

“De kapitány...”(But captain...) The police captain held up his hand sharply silencing the detective.

“Semmi de, új fejlemények történtek és ezáltal ez a letartóztatás sosem történt meg, értette!?”(NO buts, new developments happened and thus this arrest never happened, understand?!)

I was led out of the room and into the lobby of the station where I got back my stuff. I stood there dumbfounded to what just happened. After a few minutes Nak was led into the lobby as well, when i saw him i saw that his left shoulder was bandaged and his left upper arm was held up by sling.

“Well this was a first ...” he said as he walked up to me with an officer in tow.

“Wait you speak English?!” said the woman as they came to a halt in front of me. Nak turned to her and sighed.

“Well yes i do speak English with the help of a translator, but you didn’t bother to find that out in the last ... how many hours?”

“ 13 ...We were brought in roughly 13 hours ago ...” I answered his frustrated question. “What happed to you...”

“Well when they tackled us to the ground i hit some rock and felt my arm go limp, turns out my shoulder got dislocated. Don’t worry i should be back to normal in no time...” he said turning away from the officer and back to me with a smile on his face. I smiled and shook my head a little.

“Do you know why they let us go?” he asked. I opened my mouth to answer him but before i could the doors of the station were thrown open and a big group of the ships crew flooded inside led by Kiela and followed by a bunch of human diplomats as well as the minister of defense.

“There you two are. By the Gods, are you ok captain?!” she said as she marched up.

Turns out once the crew realized what happened they scrambled together a diplomatic team mostly consisting of the department heads on the ship and contacted the Hungarian government. They got us out, but by doing that they basically announced to the whole planet that yes in fact humanity is not alone in the universe, not by a longshot. Now Humanity knew that not just aliens existed but that there is an intergalactic federation.

Yeah...things are going to get interesting ... i hope we don’t F it up.

#alien #space #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #sci fi

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bubblesuga · 4 years ago

Text

off the table.

Summary: Fate has an odd way of playing with your mind. When you leave Min Yoongi on his door step nearly a decade ago, you became positive that you would never find love again. Settling for a man you thought you could learn to love, you had given up on fully moving on. But again, fate likes to play.

W/C: 11,680

Genre: Idol!AU, smut, fluff

Warnings: cussing, smut, mentions of exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, Jimin is curious about Yoongi’s (non-existent) sex life,

A/N: Based loosely off of Off The Table by Ariana Grande if you want a song to listen to as you read :) x

“So, this is it then?”

“Yeah.”

The near migraine-inducing memory always happens to flash in your mind at the worst times possible. Eight years ago, you found yourself standing at the front door of your ex boyfriend’s dorm with a solemn heart as he softly explained what his life was going to turn into. It was a short conversation, one the both of you had seen coming but neither of you wanted to admit it.

As his new friends and new life began to form behind him in the small one bedroom apartment, you nodded, and you left with one last kiss to his rosy lips. His deep brown eyes bore into yours with just as much sadness that you felt before you dragged yourself away helplessly.

Of course, now that you were 3 months into a new relationship, the memory decides to pop it’s way back into your brain as if it had just happened. A soft whisper in your mind gently coaxed you away from your latest fling and disassociated you from the moment entirely. He’s a nice guy, as well. Good head on his shoulders, smart with money, and loves to cook for you. So the sense of guilt you felt was tremendous because despite having this gorgeous man in front of you, your mind always flew back to him.

It has become more and more difficult not to think of him considering the fact that his face is now everywhere. The news, the internet, your fucking cold brew... He was there, the same bright features and adorable nose. You wondered if he thought of you from time to time, how you’re doing or what you could be up to since you graduated university. With as hectic of a schedule that you’re sure he held, you highly doubted that you have been on his mind since the end. Knowing him, he threw himself into his work and hasn’t looked back. It shows in his music, though. You always knew that he would be successful.

“...are you even listening to me?”

The words dragged you out of your trance and you immediately set down your coffee, “What? Of course I am.”

Junwoo couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What was I talking about then?”

Fuck.

You push your hair back, a habit you developed recently as your desire to try and forget about your ex boyfriend has grown stronger, “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

Maybe it hasn’t just been lately. Maybe every single time you feel Junwoo’s lips against yours, you can’t help but compare him to Yoongi. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yeah, you use that a lot as your excuse. I’ll try not to bore you with tales from my clients anymore.” Junwoo slides the plate in front of you, a heart shaped kimchi pancake lay flat in the middle of it, and you feel your guilt grow stronger.

“No! I love hearing about them, I- I think I need to see someone about what’s going on in my head.” You explain. You had yet to mention to anyone that you dated Suga of BTS before he was known as such. In fact, you’re pretty sure if you even hinted at it, you’d become the laughing stock of Seoul. It made it impossibly difficult to talk about your feelings with Junwoo. He always tries to pry, but you shut him down completely.

“What’s going on? Is it serious?” concern laces his features and he sits carefully beside you at the table.

“No, I just need someone to talk to.” you try to shake the feeling of discontent when his arm wraps around your shoulder.

He leans his head on yours- “you can always talk to me.” -you shutter.

“A professional, just to help me get back on my game. Regain control of...” you let out a soft sigh and feel Junwoo’s lips brush against your temple, “...myself.”

“_____, I am a literal therapist.”

“A literal therapist who is emotionally involved with me. Isn’t it inappropriate to make out with your patients?” You quirk, raising an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes again, “Okay. Let me know if you need recommendations. Us in the brain community are pretty tight-knit.” He stands up and runs a hand through your hair before trotting back to the kitchen to begin his own breakfast.

You nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare down at your pancake, picking up the butter knife beside your plate and dragging it down the center with a grimace on your face.

~*~*~

Even though you spent many years studying medicine, you didn’t think it would involve this much typing. Staring at patient charts has become a normal during your regular work day, especially since you’re boss decided that he didn’t need to look at the charts, he just wanted to hear from you.

You’re a nurse, not a secretary.

Today you were assigned to the emergency room, which was one of your favorite places to be. Everything was much faster than if you happened to be in post-op or general medicine, but the moment you enter the doors, you were piled with paperwork that you were sure a medical assistant could be doing.

The drowning sounds of chatter and machine’s melodic beeping blended with your fingers as they typed name after name, number after number for an hour straight. Just as you thought your soul had completely drained from your body, you hear a tap on the desk.

“H- hi, uh- my friend’s foot got cut open and we think he needs stitches. Is there any way that we could get seen quickly?” You glance up and your eyes immediately go wide.

You remember meeting Namjoon a few times in passing when you were still seeing Yoongi, but he’s much taller than you remember. Instantly you feel your face go red, and you were frozen in place. Why the hell was Namjoon here? How did he manage to choose this hospital of all the ones in Seoul?

You happen to tear your eyes away from him for a second, glancing over and seeing Jungkook being held up by Jimin as his foot stays elevated in the air. The minute you see a t-shirt wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s foot, you move to action.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that! Let me get you a wheelchair,” you swing around the desk and grab one of the folded up wheelchairs and roll it towards Jungkook. He grimaces as he sits down, his foot crossed onto the opposite knee. Jimin seems relieved not to have his friend leaning on him anymore, and you pause for a second to assess the situation.

“Jenni! Do we have an open bed anywhere?” You grab your co worker who walks passed you with her hands filled with bandages.

“Back corner, we just cleaned it.” She calls back, walking without glancing at the people you’re trying to help.

You nod, immediately walking Jungkook towards the back and gesturing for Namjoon and Jimin to follow. You grab an empty chart as you walk, before opening the curtain for the bed and allowing the three men to slide into the area.

“I hate to be pushy but this really hurts.” Jungkook hisses as wrap your arm beneath his and slowly lift him towards the bed. Immediately, you slip gloves onto your hands and begin to unwrap the t-shirt. There’s quite a bit of blood, but not enough to have you worried that he hit an artery.

Namjoon bites his lip before speaking, “I should have watched the stage better. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shrugs, wincing while he attempts to pull himself up higher, “It was hard to see. Not your fault, or anyone else’s.”

“Except for the person who broke the stage.” Namjoon quips, rubbing his hands over his face, frustrated.

“It’s fine, hyung. The pretty nurse is going to fix Kookie right up.” Jimin is quick to comfort both of his friends while simultaneously causing you to blush.

It’s then that you notice the three of them in clothes similar to their rehearsal getup from all those years ago. Sweat lines each of their foreheads and you wonder just how this whole thing happened.

After inspecting the wound, you whip towards the suture kit, “It is deep enough to require stitches. I’m going to call the doctor down and have her suture you up. Until then would you like me to numb the pain?” Even though you’re well aware who these men are, and how close you potentially are to your ex boyfriend, you can’t help but let your professional prowess overpower your incessant need to think of Yoongi.

Jungkook nods, “At this point I’ll take a shot of whiskey and something to knock me out.”

You smile, “Unfortunately there isn’t any whiskey here. Believe me, I’ve been searching since I got here.”

Namjoon chuckles from beside you as you put your finger up to let them know you’ll be right back. Pulling open the curtain, you meander over to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone to call the ER doctor down. As you wait for him, you grab all the supplies to clean Jungkook’s foot, including a Lidocaine injection. Before you get the chance to turn back around, you hear the ER doors burst open and see four sweaty men tearing their way into the hospital.

Four sweaty men, including Min Yoongi.

An uncharacteristic whimper leaves your lips as you spot the rest of the members, all rushing passed you when they see Namjoon stick his head out of the curtains.

You feel all the blood drain from your face when the familiarity of Yoongi’s presence passes by you. Jenni notices your panic from the other side of the nurse’s station and lets out a little giggle, “Come on, you can’t get all shy just because they’re BTS. You have a job to do.”

“I can’t go in there now, Jenni. You have to take over.” You turn back to her with wild eyes, desperately trying to hand her all the supplies you gathered. Your eyes continuously glance backwards, watching them pile in. Yoongi can’t see you, you won’t be able to look the man in the eyes. You can’t even begin to think about the embarrassment you will feel if Yoongi sees you.

Jenni only laughs, “You’re a professional. Dr. Gwan will be down soon so you only have to be with them for a few moments.”

In a last ditch effort, you call out to her as she walks towards another patient.

Okay. You’re panicking now.

The universe has to be playing some sort of sick game on you right about now. You have not been able to get that stupid man off your mind lately and now here he was in your emergency room. First he’s worried about his brother but now he’s going to see you and want to chat and catch up. Knowing him, he’ll ask you for coffee and you’ll probably learn of his girlfriend or possible wife. He’ll wonder why you’re not married yet, and you’ll have to hide the fact that you haven’t been able to properly move on because of him.

That’s only to say if he even remembers you.

Taking a deep breath, you swallow your anxiety and enter the curtain.

“Alright, Jungkook. Do you have any allergies that I should know about before I inject you with my magic numbing liquid?” It’s much more cramped in the room than it was before. The 6 members crowd to one side of the bed while you stand on the other. You refuse to look up for fear that Yoongi is going to recognize you.

“No allergies.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Good, good,” you lean forward, elevating Jungkook’s foot and removing the make shift bandage, “you’re gonna feel a slight pinch.”

“He’s not going to lose his foot or anything, right?” A voice asks. You recognize it as Taehyung’s.

“No,” you’re sure they can sense how rigid you are, “he’s not going to be able to dance for a little bit, but he’ll be back and better than ever in no time.” No one responds, and you finally make eye contact with Jungkook, “Are you ready?”

Again, he nods, and you slowly push the needle into his foot. He cringes enough to jerk his upper body slightly, but Jimin is at his side just as quickly as it started.

You dispose of the needle immediately afterwards, wrapping his foot up to keep pressure applied to the wound, “Okay, Dr. Gwan will be here soon. She’ll get you sutured up and I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Thank you, miss. It already feels better.” He sighs happily, relaxing backwards onto the pillow.

You grin, momentarily forgetting that your ex boyfriend is 3 feet away, “Of course, Jungkook. That’s my job.”

It’s then that you catch Yoongi’s eye for the first time that night. It’s not to say he didn’t recognize you before, but he wasn’t able to say anything once he saw you working. He was deathly still, the rest of the day leaving his mind when your shiny eyes met his. He sees you swallow, and you walk out without saying anything else.

“That was _____.” Yoongi murmurs after a moment, staring at the swaying curtains where you once exited.

The chatter stops instantly, and everyone turns to Yoongi.

“The _____?” Hoseok questions, his eyes wide while he also turns to watch the curtains.

Yoongi nods, his throat going dry as memories of you sleeping beside him at night when he had nothing to his name wash over him. You, with the exception of his brother, were the only person supporting him when he said he wanted a career in music. You applied to universities in Seoul so you could be closer to his dream, you were always so excited to hear his new music and you always told him that he was going to make it big.

It’s not like Yoongi hadn’t thought of you since you broke up. He was a complete mess for months afterwards. His schedule solely consisted of working and rehearsing because he couldn’t bare to have a moment to himself.

Yoongi repeatedly beat himself up for the way he ended things and more specifically, the reason he ended things. After getting into BigHit, Yoongi realized he was seeing less and less of you. You were so busy with med school and he was so busy with rehearsals that you were lucky to see each other once a week. He knew you’d be better off finding someone who could be there for you, and that it was best for him to focus on his career.

He just wasn’t aware of how much that would kill him inside.

“Well what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Seokjin pushes. There are times when Yoongi has to remind himself that he isn’t the oldest in the group, and that usually comes when Seokjin takes his role as older brother very seriously.

Yoongi scoffs at the taller man, “What do you want me to say? ‘Hey I know it’s been 8 years but lets meet up for coffee and pretend like we didn’t break each other’s hearts’?” he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Besides, Jungkook needs us here while he gets his foot stabbed.”

“Oh no, hyung,” Jungkook laughs, “I’m doing juuuust fine. You go talk to the pretty nurse.”

Yoongi swallows, “What should I say?”

Namjoon shrugs, “Whatever comes to mind.”

Yoongi’s feet carry him out of the curtained off area, his eyes searching across the emergency room in an attempt to find you. He spots you at the desk by the front door, and with a nervous head tilt, he’s dragging himself towards you.

The moment you left Jungkook, you threw yourself back into paperwork and became so immersed that you didn’t hear anything going on around you. Except for the soft footsteps pattering up to your station, which causes you to tear your eyes away from the chicken scratch handwriting on the chart in front of you.

It’s silent for a beat, you can feel the heat rising to your ears as you look up at him. His hair is longer, different from the short style he’d gel up every morning before the break up. There’s more piercings on his ears, but at the core of the new flashy clothes and dyed hair, he’s still the same man who professed his love for you at 17 years old.

“Hi.” he whispers.

“...hi.” you respond, your hands still frozen over the keyboard as Yoongi fiddles with his fingers on top of the desk.

“Thank you for helping-” Yoongi is cut off by another Nurse calling you over from a different bed in the emergency room.

You give him a quick glance, “I’m sorry, duty calls.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken when you stand. He had a better look at the pink scrubs donned on your body, and the smile on his face was nearly uncontrollable when he realizes that you made it exactly where you wanted to be. Your dreams of helping people has now become a reality.

You’re truly in your element, and Yoongi can tell. The concern on your face as you help a little girl sat in the center of a bed way too big for her was a sure fire way to know that you were in the right place.

So, Yoongi doesn’t push a conversation. Instead, he walks back to his band mates and watches in awe as Dr. Gwan stitches up Jungkook’s foot.

~*~*~

“He walked away.”

“He walked away?!”

“He. Walked. Away.” You emphasize to Jenni, holding your hands to your face while you let out a groan.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” she sets down her iced americano, the chatter of the hospital cafeteria drowned out by your conversation, “you dated Suga from BTS before he was famous, and he broke up with you because you were both leading different lives?”

You nod.

She continues, “and you see him in person for the first time in 8 years, and you don’t talk to him?!”

“Wait why are you yelling at me?!”

“Because, dummy,” she leans over the table and flicks your forehead, “he’s been on your mind a lot lately and suddenly he’s at your job! It’s not a coincidence.”

It’s only been about a week since you saw Yoongi, and of course your attempts to get him out of your mind has been fruitless.

“What am I meant to do? Drop everything and run to him?” You ask incredulously, angrily digging your spoon in your yogurt.

Jenni waves her hand haphazardly, “No, no. You catch up with him, see how he’s doing now that he’s a world famous rapper- oh my god, _____ you let go of him?! You didn’t fight for him?!”

“You said you weren’t going to judge me!”

“That was before I learned exactly what you did! Dumb girl,” Jenni shakes her head disapprovingly, “and you’ve settled for Mr. Brainiac instead.”

Jenni isn’t the biggest fan of Junwoo.

“Mr. Brainiac is nice and sweet and knows how to treat me right,” You explain quietly, the fruit in your yogurt seemingly tasteless on your tongue, “but...”

“But he’s not Yoongi?” Jenni tilts her head.

“I don’t think anyone can ever compare to Yoongi. I’m sure it’s unrequited at this point.” As much as you hate to admit it, that’s the part that broke your heart the most about seeing Yoongi. The fact that you couldn’t bare to look at him for more than a second, because it just wasn’t the same as before. It will never been the same as before.

Jenni shrugs, “you won’t know until you find out.”

“And I’m supposed to... what? Show up at his house?”

Jenni’s eyes seem to trail behind you, and a grin on her face, “When is Jungkook supposed to get his sutures removed?”

Confused, you raise an eyebrow and turn around in your chair to see none other than the man of the hour, Min Yoongi. Instead of being dressed in rehearsal clothes like the other day, Yoongi wears all black with a silver bag wrapped around his torso.

You whip back around and glare at Jenni, “I swear to god if you call him-”

“Suga!” Jenni calls out before you can finish your sentence. Your head falls into your hands with another frustrated moan. Jenni waves her hand to him, Yoongi watching warily before he spots that you’re sat right across from her.

He hesitates for a moment, noticing the way you drag knees to your chest which is a nervous tick you have had since before Yoongi had met you. However, he realizes that if he ever wants to talk to you, now would be the best time. Having followed Jungkook to the hospital for the sole purpose of possibly bumping into you, he had to make due with any interaction he could get.

Jenni gets up and leaves as Yoongi walks his way over to you. Your head is now buried in your knees, but you hear the chair screech across from you.

“Hi again.”

You lift your head up, “Hi, Suga. How is life?”

You can see hurt flash through Yoongi’s face at your use of his stage name, but he shakes it off, “Life is going pretty well. How about yours?”

“It’s going well.”

You still haven’t made direct eye contact with him. Despite having not seen you in person in so many years, his heart ached in his chest at the thought that you may still be hurt. Who is he kidding, though? He’s still hurt by the decision himself.

With a sigh, he scoots his chair forward, “Are we going to pretend that there isn’t a history behind us?”

You laugh bitterly, “Haven’t you been doing a pretty good job of that for the passed eight years?”

Yoongi’s jaw drops. You don’t remember Yoongi ever showing his emotions so freely on his face. That was one of the good things from the interviews you have seen, those 6 boys have opened up Yoongi more and more to his emotions. You feel bad for your response, but you’re unsure how to apologize.

“I didn’t want to end things just much as you didn’t,” He bites, ignoring the tinge in his heart, “I want to catch up. It’s nice seeing you again.”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, your yogurt seeming much more interesting than it was moments before.

He clears his throat, “That’s okay.”

“Because I had to move on.”

“That’s okay.” He repeats, his fingertips drumming along the table top. He hasn’t been chewing his nails lately. That’s good for him. Though, the nervous habit has developed into something different, the drumming of his finger tips echoing more and more in your head as the awkward silence mulls on. Even in a loud cafeteria, your mind only focused on him.

With out thinking much of it, you reach your hand forward and place it on top of his to get the drumming to stop. Yoongi looks up at you while you hold your hand atop of his. For a moment, the silence continues as you stare into his deep brown eyes. You’re transported back to your late teens, where you felt as though you were on top of the world with Min Yoongi by your side. He stared at you as if you were his entire universe, spending night after night cuddled up together, talking about your dreams and aspirations while simultaneously chasing them together.

Well, it used to be together, but instead you had to push yourself through your dreams alone.

Yoongi’s the first to break the silence, letting a dry chuckle fall effortlessly from his lips while he stares down at your touching hands, “You used to do the same thing if you saw me biting my nails.”

Even though you want to be mad, you wand to walk away and never speak to him again, you can’t. Instead, you nibble on your lip in an attempt to stifle your giggle. Yoongi notices and realizes he’s making good headway into conversation.

“You told me to help you stop, the only thing that seemed to get you to stop was-”

“Your touch?” Yoongi suggests, a teasing gummy grin on his face.

“Yeah,” you finally let out a laugh, “my touch distracted you from a lot of things.”

The people in the cafeteria didn’t seem to be bothered by the two of you in the center of the room. Busy doctors and nurses trying to get their lunch in, loved ones of patients desperately waiting to hear if their surgeries went well, all is forgotten as you fall into the same pit you found yourself in many years ago. Bottomless, but bright. Visions of the future dancing along you as you fall deeper and deeper. Although now, it seems to be visions of what could have been.

“Of course it did, how could I focus when I had your pretty face in front of me?” Yoongi’s tone is still teasing, but melancholy wades through his words.

You slip your hand away hesitantly, and Yoongi’s wrist twitches at the sudden loss of contact. “That’s the reason it ended, isn’t it?”

This is a conversation that Yoongi is not ready for, but at this point he’ll take anything he can get with you, “What do you mean?”

“You broke up with me because you knew I’d distract you from your dream.”

He brings the hand you once held upward, scorching skin touching the back of his neck nervously as he takes a deep breath, “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t play a part.”

You inhale and drop your legs from the edge of your chair before leaning forward. After years of questioning whether or not you would ever move on, you finally have the chance to get some closure. “What was the final straw?”

He bites his lip, “I was able to fall asleep without you.”

You didn’t think you’d be able to feel your heart sink as deep as it has. Even after all these years, your emotions are bubbling to the surface. How can something so simple break your heart so badly?

“You were in school during the day and I was training at night,” he continues, “we never saw each other and I struggled for so long to fall asleep without you next to me. Then... one day my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep immediately.”

Another knife to your chest.

“Did you struggle at all? After the break up, I mean.” You try to search for some sense of regret in his eyes but he’s always been very good at putting up a wall and having people fight for a way in.

He laughs bitterly, “Of course I struggled. Are you kidding me? I thought I was going to marry you, have kids with you. I was nearly inconsolable once it really set in that you weren’t going to be with me anymore.”

You swallow anxiously, “But it was really for the best, yeah? You’ve got your career and I’ve got mine. We’re both successful. Given, you’re entirely more successful than I am but I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“Don’t say that,” Yoongi breaths, “you worked your ass off to get to where you are, you’re just as successful as I am.”

“You think we wouldn’t have got to where we are if we stayed together.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Yoongi seems to ponder on his answer.

“I think we were young and didn’t know much about life. It was a shitty time for both of us, but I did and still do think that in some aspect of the word, you are my soulmate.”

Your breath hitches at the word.

Beyond already having thought this yourself, the realization that Yoongi thinks it as well causes your chest to flush with heat. The adoration you felt years ago when Yoongi’s hair was always styled neatly in a mohawk and you had no clue how to use eyeliner still rests itself neatly at the bottom of your heart. Hearing Yoongi even say the word ‘soulmate’ nearly reduced you to a puddle of tears.

Yoongi notices that you haven’t let out a breath, “Fuck,” he’s panicking, running his hand anxiously through his hair, “fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to freak you out, I- I-” He cuts himself off and allows his head to fall into his hands.

A moment passes, and he seems to gather himself once he hears you exhale, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you last. I dreamed about what I wanted to say to you and insisted on being the one to drive Jungkook to the hospital today with just the hope and slightest chance that I might run into you.”

“What’s your plan here, then?”

“I want to be friends.” He proposes.

You scoff, “Do you have time for friends now?”

He sighs, expecting the reply but still feeling his chest tighten, “Let’s hang out on a day where the two of us have nothing going on. When are you off next?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You reiterate, raising an eyebrow.

“Not a date,” he dismisses you, “just as friends. When are you off next?”

Crossing your arms, you eye him suspiciously as he widens his eyes in an attempt to push you towards an answer.

“Saturday.”

“Great,” he breathes, “I’ll make sure I’m free that day too.”

~*~*~

Maybe you are taking a bit too much time getting ready for a man who has already seen you at your worst. Maybe you purposely wore purple lipstick in an attempt to show that you have been paying attention to his career and maybe, just maybe, you are way too happy to be hanging out with Min Yoongi once again.

That doesn’t take away from your nervousness, though. Your hand shakes as you finish applying your mascara. You don’t live in a nice mansion like Yoongi does, and you’re terrified that someone will spot him picking you up from your apartment and all hell will break loose. You’ve read some of the tabloids involving anyone close to the group, so your anxiety is nearly palpable.

“Get a grip,” you whisper to yourself, “you’ve seen this man naked before. There’s no need to be nervous.”

As you finish your make up, you move on to your hair but stop once you hear a knock on your door.

Yoongi isn’t supposed to be here for another half hour.

“Fuck.” you whisper, standing quickly from your vanity mirror and rushing towards the front door in a panic. You peep through the lens in the door, confusion striking you when you spot Junwoo.

The lock turns loudly and you slide open the door, “Hi?”

His eyes raise from the ground until he meets yours, “You’re awfully dressed up just to be hanging at home.”

“I have plans.” You state, slipping your undone hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but notice the instant meekness you felt take over your body the moment you saw Junwoo.

“With me?” He questions, stepping into your apartment. His black hair is pushed back with way too much gel to be comfortable, the honey brown eyes that usually comforted you suddenly made you feel uneasy.

You shake your head in response, “An old friend. He and I are-”

“He?” Junwoo cuts you off, much louder than he was moments before. You take a step back at the sudden change of tone, your jaw nearly dropping at his audacity.

“Yes, he. Is that a problem?” It was probably in your best interest not to challenge Junwoo. If there is anything you learned in your short time together it’s that he was very good at manipulating your words. He claims it’s his way of reading deeper into the situation but you think your intentions are pretty surface-level.

Junwoo didn’t seem to expect your attitude, backing down immediately with a nervous scratch to the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know how I feel about you hanging out with another guy.”

A scoff leaves your mouth as you scan Junwoo’s posture change, “Are you one of those people who assumes men and women can’t be platonic friends?”

“Yes.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

You roll your eyes, “I can assure you that he’s just a friend.”

A friend who you have a long, egregious history with. A friend who’s lips have touched every inch of your body, has seen you break down over text books and has kissed away your tears when you were beginning to reach adulthood.

But yeah, a friend nonetheless.

“Are you still going to hang out with him if I tell you I’m uncomfortable with it?” Junwoo presses, puffing out his chest.

“I don’t feel like you have the right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with,” you furrow your brows, “why are you even here?”

“I wanted to take you to the park, but that’s not important. Were you going to tell me that you were going out with a guy?” Man, Junwoo’s ability to annoy the fuck out of you has seemingly grown beyond a point of retribution in the short 10 minutes he’s been in front of you.

As you open your mouth to respond, another knock sounds on the door. You let out a small groan, reaching towards the doorknob and turning it swiftly. On the other side is Yoongi, a striped black and white button down unbuttoned on his torso with a white t-shirt underneath. He’s certainly gotten a better fashion sense.

“Hi, Yoongi. I’m almost ready,” you send a glare in Junwoo’s direction, “I have to finish my hair and I’ll be ready.”

Junwoo is staring wide-eyed at Yoongi with his jaw dropped. Yoongi looks back at him and subtly crinkles his nose, just enough for you to spot it.

After a moment, you break the silence, “Yoongi, this is Junwoo. Junwoo,” you gesture to Yoongi, “Suga of BTS.”

Yoongi lets out a laugh, “Stop introducing me like that to people.”

“That is your name, isn’t it?” You tease, spinning the black hat on his head backwards. “Anyway, are you heading out, Junwoo?”

“You didn’t tell me that it was Suga you were hanging out with.” Junwoo speaks accusingly, making you realize that you truly didn’t make any progress throughout your entire conversation.

“He’s an old friend,” you explain, “I’ll call you later.”

Junwoo opens his mouth but closes it again. You know it’s more than likely because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of someone so influential. Junwoo cared too much about his image to do anything to disrupt it. One bad word from Yoongi and he was done for.

Silently, he steps out of your apartment but doesn’t hesitate on slamming the door shut.

Yoongi glances at you and points to the door, “Him?”

“I never claimed to make good decisions.” You sigh, causing Yoongi to giggle. “Anyway, let me finish my hair. Help yourself to anything here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You hesitate for a moment before deciding that you didn’t have anything in particular that Yoongi could accidentally get his hands on that would be embarrassing.

As you walk out of the room, Yoongi runs his fingers along the picture frames on your wall. He remembers these pictures previously sitting on your desk in your parents’ house. Now they were lined perfectly across the off-white painted wall in your living room, images of your family and close friends filling the black painted frames.

He smiles at the picture of your mother, you’re an exact replica of her. One of the first things he struggled with beyond not seeing you anymore was the fact that he wouldn’t see your family. Despite your relationship being short lived in the beginning, he had grown very close to your family in the process. After the break up, your mother called Yoongi repeatedly asking if he needed food and clothes. He knows that you gained your big heart from her, and he wishes that he can speak with her again.

Moving on, he spots the familiar picture of you leaning against a bookshelf with Le Fleurs Du Mal by Charles Baudelaire gripped loosely in your hands. He remembers that picture from the end of high school, you insisted on stopping by the local Daegu city library one last time before you both moved to Seoul. Yoongi snapped the picture as an opportunity to remember your hometown, because he was sure the two of you would never be back there again. You would stay together and conquer the world, but unfortunately that never happened.

Yoongi can’t help but run his fingers along the side of your face, your smile hiding behind the book. Yoongi’s reflection can be seen in the window behind you, his grin just as wide as yours.

You were in love, and Yoongi misses that.

Of course now it’s not like he can do anything about that. You have a boyfriend who is clearly very loving and trusting in you.

Yoongi wasn’t necessarily sure what his plan was when he was searching for you in the hospital, nor was he sure what his plan is now that he has you within arms reach of him. Namjoon was sure to tell him how stupid he was for even attempting to get involved with you again even though you have a boyfriend but Yoongi didn’t care. So long as you were in his life somehow, he was willing to make it work. Friends, maybe more. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted whatever he could get.

He did...okay for a few years without you. He dated on and off but never really developed a connection with anyone the way he had you. He couldn’t help but compare everyone who came into his life to you no matter how hard he tried not to. It’s laughable at best, because deep down in his mind he’s well aware that nobody will ever compare to you.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi tears his eyes away from the picture and instantaneously rakes his eyes up and down your body, “Whoa.”

Dressed in a simple leggings and plaid button down combination, it accentuates your curves and causes Yoongi’s mouth to water.

You let out an embarrassed giggle, “I, uh- I wasn’t sure what we were doing to I tried to dress casually.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his eyes from staring at your hips, “It works. Everything about you, works.”

“Careful now.” You warn jokingly, putting a hand out in an attempt to pause his thoughts.

Yoongi shakes his head, “Okay, I have a reservation ready for us.”

You lead him out your door and to the car park, “You better not be taking me to some expensive restaurant because I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, opening the passenger side door for you, “but if you still love chicken then I may have found the greatest restaurant in existence.”

Slipping into his car, you wait to respond until he moves over to the drivers side and turns the car on. “You remember that I love chicken?”

He smiles, gummy and bright just like before, “I remember everything about you.”

You ignore the flutter in your heart at his words, and sit silently beside him while the radio plays softly from his speakers. The car is far nicer than the one he used to have, and the seats have a warmer that Yoongi seemed to know the perfect temperature of. As he continues to drive on, you try not to watch the way his left hand grips the steering wheel and his right sits idly on his thigh.

8 years ago, that hand would have been resting on your thigh, fingertips brushing the inner part of your softest flesh while you leaned your head back listened to the melodic tunes of whatever song he made most recently. A few of those tunes have been turned into BTS songs, and you still felt beyond proud of him.

“Okay, we have to go around the back and through the kitchen. I just don’t want to risk-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, waving your hand dismissively, “you’re hot shot famous guy now. Don’t want to risk getting seen with a lady.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I may be some hot shot famous guy but I’m still the same person I was a decade ago.”

You watch as he turns the car off, “Prove it.”

“What?” He laughs in disbelief.

“Prove that you’re the same person you were all those years ago.” You push, tongue in cheek while you smirk at the man beside you. He seems to ponder for a moment, puckering his lips in thought before he exits the car and runs over to your side of the car.

“Come on,” he gestures for you to get up, “hurry up.”

“Hold your horses, Mister.” you adjust the bag around your torso as you stand and let your eyes fall back to Yoongi. His back is to you and his knees are bent. Hands reach backwards for you and he turns to look at you expectantly.

Tilting your head, you smile as you hop onto Yoongi’s back. A move he’d do regularly when you’d spend hours on your feet interning at various hospitals around the city. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs and you let out a squeal as he hikes you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist.

It takes a moment for him to steady his walk as he leads you carefully up to the back door. You lean upward and knock on the back door labeled “staff only” and wait patiently as you feel Yoongi adjust you again.

“You used to carry me around like this all the time.” You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. It didn’t feel weird hugging him like this. Natural instincts kicked in and the whiff of his cologne had you reeling. It’s exactly the same as he wore before, and his hair smelled of coconut conditioner. Before you would turn his head and kiss his lips every time you caught his scent, and it’s taking everything in you right now not to do exactly that.

“I did,” you can hear the smile in Yoongi’s voice, “and you never reciprocated.”

“I’ll give you a piggy back on the way out, how about that?” You pat the top of his head as the door opens to reveal a very confused looking employee.

A sheepish smile is held on Yoongi’s face while the employee realizes who he is. “Mr. Min,” he bows his head, “lovely to have you again. We have your usual table set up in the back.”

“Awesome,” Yoongi drawls sweetly, “lead the way!”

Heat fills your face as the kitchen staff of the unnamed restaurant watch curiously while Yoongi walks you to the table.

He doesn’t allow you to get off, instead he turns around and drops you onto the booth seat as you try to silence the squeal that leaves your mouth. Yoongi only laughs as he flips back around to see the top half of your body slip between the table and the seat. He’s quick to help you up but his arms grow weak from laughing so he takes a few moments to pull you back up. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, the ridiculousness of the situation bringing back memories.

“I’m sorry,” he says, inhaling another laugh as he slips into the seat opposite of you, “I didn’t think you would fall.”

You adjust the hat on your head, “It’s fine, I didn’t need my equilibrium to work properly anyway.”

Yoongi can’t help but watch you carefully as you open the menu. Your nose still crinkled when you came across a dish you may not particularly like, and your eyes widened whenever you saw something that you thought looked good.

Both of you decided on a beer to drink and various flavors of dry rub wings to enjoy. As you waited on your food to be cooked, you sip your beer and suck your teeth while you decide whether or not you want to ask him all your dying questions.

Deciding to start small, you took a deep breath as Yoongi met your eyes, “How much did they have to fight you to get you to start dancing?”

He let out a sigh of relief, half expecting the awkwardness of your history together to take over, “I almost quit like four times, I won’t lie.”

You giggle, “I figured. You do well, though. I was amazed by your Seesaw performance when you started dancing on your own up there. Genuinely was the last thing I expected.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, he only smiles widely with his head rested gently on his hand. You tilt your head as his eyes scan yours, “What?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the world to swallow you up at the thought that you could have come across as weird or creepy by knowing so much about Yoongi’s career.

“You watch my performances?” He questions, his smile not dropping. A hint of pink brushes the tip of his nose.

“Of course,” you say almost incredulously, “you’re everywhere. It’s hard not to.”

“What’s your favorite song?” Yoongi presses, leaning forward to show you’ve piqued his interest.

Okay, there’s no way you’re going to let him think he has some sort of head over you.

“Cypher part 3.” you say confidently.

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” you hum, nibbling on the bottom of your lip for a moment before deciding to say why it was your favorite, “specifically the part where you say you’re a starfish feeding off the envy of others.”

“Ah, yes. Truly a fan favorite. You should hear the cheers when I explain what my tongue can do.” Yoongi whispers the latter half of his sentence, causing your throat to go dry. His tongue is skillful in many ways, not just rapping, and you were well aware of that. Decadence rested on the tip of his tongue, and you’d like to think that you contributed to his *ahem* practice.

He pulls away with a cheeky grin just as the waiter comes by with steaming plates of food.

The affect that his words had on you still amazes you to this day. Maybe he does have a head above you, and maybe you’re okay with that.

The rest of the dinner goes by with a breeze, the two of you laughing over drinks and trying each other’s food. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a comfortable fit with Yoongi, even though so much time had passed. It was like he never left, and he truly is still the same person he was before. He laughs the same, his shoulders shakes and his grin is always huge. Although his hair style changes and his fashion sense has gotten better, you still see the old Yoongi poking out whenever he laughed particularly hard.

Being face to face with him has allowed you to compare to the younger him, though. His face has slimmed and his voice has gotten deeper, the adam’s apple you kiss at night was larger than before and his neck was longer. Despite all that, he was still the same. Fame hadn’t changed him a bit.

The moment the check comes you snatch it up quickly.

“_____.” the way Yoongi says your name shoots a chill down your spine, but you ignore it when you slip your cash into the designated sleeve.

“Yoongi.” You mock, handing the sleeve back to the waitress who seems scared of Yoongi’s deep tone.

“I was supposed to pay.” He pouts, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Be faster then.” You grin, standing up and crouching in front of Yoongi’s side.

He laughs, remembering your promise from earlier and slipping onto your back. The path you to through the kitchen is a bit less crowded now, but you felt the same amount of eyes on you the entire time. You felt much less embarrassed about it now, though, because Yoongi had a way of calming you down even at your worst points.

“The night is still young,” Yoongi speaks as he slips off of your back and unlocks his car, “would you like to revisit Yongsan Park?”

“Always.”

It wasn’t a far drive from the restaurant, and it was spent mostly talking about music and the new album that Yoongi was extremely proud of. Of course you had already listened to it but you didn’t want to take away from his excitement of showing you some of the songs.

When you made it to the park, the lights lining the jogging path were already on. You hadn’t expected it to be so dark yet but fall time always had a habit of sneaking up on you.

There was an intense rush of nostalgia associated with this park for the both of you. Nights where the two of you huddled close under the stars were spent here, right beneath the biggest tree in the park. It was unspoken that that was your spot, and you hadn’t been to it since you broke up.

Yet, muscle memory kicks in and both of your legs carry you right to the tree.

“Isn’t it funny how we spent so many nights here?” You bring up as you sit at the base of the tree.

Yoongi nods, “So many nights in this exact spot.”

“I love it here, it was our spot.”

Yoongi’s proximity to you is much closer than it should be but neither of you are making any move to change it. His shoulder brushes against yours and you resist the urge to rest your head on his shoulder.

“It still is.” He corrects, tapping your knee gently with his hand and resting in there.

You freeze for a moment, not knowing how to process his touch anymore but you can’t push him away. In fact, you’re relishing in the heat burning on your skin beneath his hand. It’s one of the best feelings in the world.

“Do you remember when you tried to scare me by climbing a tree and the branch broke?” Yoongi looks up, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at the memory.

“Yeah but that was because I was trying to get you back for pouring ice water on me when I fell asleep on my text book.” You roll your eyes at the memory, distinctly remembering the chill on your back while Yoongi cackled in your small one bedroom apartment.

That same cackle leaves Yoongi’s lips from beside you. You snap your head towards him, “Oh you think it’s funny still?”

“Yeah,” his laugh turns into a giggle, “you can still see the broken branch.”

“What?” You glance up, and sure enough the branch is still gone. Your jaw drops and you use your hands to push Yoongi over. He doesn’t fight you on it and falls with ease even though you didn’t use very much pressure at all, and you’re quick to try and wrestle him down. “It must be so funny,” you groan as you try to pin him down, straddling your legs on either side of his waist, “to still be pinned by- holy shit you’ve gotten strong.”

Yoongi takes his opportunity to flip the two of you over, switching positions and easily pinning your hands on either side of your head. Vaguely, you wonder how much time it took for him to gain so much strength, but your mind quickly shifts once you realize the precarious position that Yoongi has put you in.

Glancing down, you see his hips rest just above your navel, and images of the many nights you shared together flash through your mind. Rushed breathing and sweaty skin sticking together as you explored each other’s bodies and always found new ways to please each other. Briefly, a rush of heat flashes through your lower abdomen at the way your imagination flushes with possibilities of Yoongi’s touch.

You inhale, your chest heaving and Yoongi’s eyes fly to the way your cleavage displays itself for him. You’ve gotten fuller than before, and it suits you. He’s enjoying every second of it.

Before he can stop himself, he leans down and smashes his lips onto yours. The grip on your wrists loosen just enough for you to slip out and have your hands flying to his cheeks. He tastes the same as he did before, his smell intoxicating as it fills your nose. Your senses are overwhelmed with him, his tastes, his scent, the way his lips feel against yours. The familiarity is there, but they feel new and exciting at the same time, like you were pushed back to your youth.

He exhales against you as if he’s been waiting all night to do just this. Slipping his legs out from beneath him, he presses his chest against yours as your hands slide to the back of his neck to hold him against you. The rest of the world falls, dissolving into nothing. You keen helplessly as you feel him grind against you, and that noise seems to push Yoongi over the edge. He growls into your mouth, pulling away to start his descent onto your neck with bites and licks in all the places you loved before.

Arching into him, your hands loop through his black locks with a gasp as his tongue licks at your wine kissed collarbones.

This is everything you’ve been wishing for. Everything feels so right.

Yet, it’s wrong. You need to stop him. You need to ask him to pull away. But you can’t. He feels too fucking good. It’s not until he reaches the stop of your chest, his fingers hesitantly reaching at your collar does he look into your eyes for permission.

And you stop him.

“I- I think I need to go have a very uncomfortable conversation with Junwoo.” You state, and Yoongi’s face drops.

“I can’t believe you still managed to think about him when I was kissing you.” He says nearly incredulously, crawling off of you and leaning his back against the tree again. His chest is rising and falling faster than before, showing that your affect on him was much stronger than you previously had thought.

Your heart twinged at Yoongi’s cold tone. You swallow, “If you think there’s a possibility of us continuing this, I have to end things with Junwoo.”

Yoongi whines, “Why now?”

You let out a little giggle, sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder like you wanted to before. “Even if I didn’t do it right now, I don’t think we could go any further in the middle of a park.”

“I thought you liked exhibitionism.” Yoongi leans to the side, kissing you once again. It’s much breathier than before, and he prays that you don’t feel his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage at the mere thought of someone catching the two of you outside.

You gasp into the kiss and force yourself to pull away even though you didn’t want to at all. Giving him a look, Yoongi sighs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll drive you home so you can have that uncomfortable conversation.” He mutters, standing up and pulling you with him. He’s much more touchy than before, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders while he guides you back to his car.

The conversation you’re about to have with Junwoo will truly be one of the most anxiety inducing things you’ve ever done.

~*~*~

The dorms are dark when Yoongi arrives back. The living room in which everyone has a tendency to congregate after a particularly grueling practice day holds no one, a small reminder that everyone finally got some well deserved rest.

He hums softly to the tune of ‘People’, one of his favorite songs from his recent mixtape and opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When he closes it, Jimin is standing on the other side.

Yoongi jumps, “Jesus fucking christ, Park Jimin!”

“Didja get back together with her?”

“What?” Yoongi takes a second to assess Jimin’s pajama clad body, “N- no. We just hung out.”

“It’s a shame,” Jimin reaches forward and grabs the water bottle from Yoongi’s hand, “I heard you humming so I figured you finally got laid.” Yoongi opens his mouth to protest but Jimin continues before he can, “You know, I’ve known you for so long and I don’t think you’ve ever had a woman sign an NDA? Have you even had sex since you broke up with the pretty nurse?”

“I feel like that’s none of your business.” Yoongi yanks the water bottle back, opening it and praying that Jimin didn’t backwash.

“But it is my business because I have no clue how you did it. I’m sure she was fucking other guys regularly. I hear it’s bad for women to go without sex because they turn into-” Yoongi attempts to drown out the sounds of his roommate, his hand gripping the counter top tightly with unwanted images of you in another man’s bed ripping through his brain, “-and I’ve always wondered what it was like to only ever have your hand to get yourself off. Is it lonely? How much porn do you-”

“Jimin!” Yoongi shouts.

“Cutting me off is awfully rude, don’t you think?”

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” Yoongi grits his teeth, moving to walk away as Jimin laughs.

“Called it! I knew you were a born again virgi-”

“Goodnight!” Yoongi calls back, walking up to his room and locking the door behind him. He plops down onto his bed, the TV situated perfectly level with his bed. It’s a stark contrast to the small black and white TV he could afford all those years ago, so the familiar sound of his TV sounding on brings a smile to his face as he realizes yet again how fortunate he’s become.

Now he’s determined to make sure you feel the same sense of fortune that he has. Because he has you back in his life. Was it a twist of fate or the inevitability of soulmates, Yoongi isn’t sure. However, he’s immensely grateful to have you back, even if you’re not truly his yet.

~*~*~

"I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?!”

You cover your mouth as the unexpected sentence leaves your mouth. Junwoo sits in his office with his fists clenched tightly on top of his desk. He’s never been particularly good at hearing bad news, and even though it’s only been a few months you feel as though you’re signing divorce papers judging my his reaction.

It’s been two days since you last saw Yoongi. You put off speaking to Junwoo for a little bit to try and figure out exactly what you were going to say to him. You had a whole speech ready, talking about how he deserves better and that he’ll find his soulmate eventually.

But when the moment came, your speech was practically thrown to the ceiling fan and torn into a million pieces.

“W- why? What did I do?” Junwoo asks, he seems more angry than anything which you didn’t expect.

“You didn’t do anything,” you sigh, plopping in the seat on the other side of his desk, “I just don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“Everything was going so well!” Oh god, he’s yelling. “It’s that fucker Suga’s fault, isn’t it? He’s putting you up to this!”

“Fucking hell, Junwoo! How old are you, honestly? Immediately assuming that it was Yoongi is the most childish thing you could have done.” It is Yoongi, though. You know that, and unfortunately Junwoo knows that as well. It isn’t in good conscience to deny his allegations but you can’t help but do so.

Though, the inevitability of your relationship ending would have happened with out without Yoongi’s push.

“Well excuse me for thinking you would fuck a member of the biggest band on the planet! For God’s sake, any whore would drop their pants for one of them.”

Your jaw drops, “I didn’t fuck him.”

Junwoo rolls his eyes, “Are you sure? Because it’s almost like I could smell the stench coming off of you.”

You place your tongue in your cheek, biting back a response. Should have figured the man wouldn’t know how to take a break up.

Then, you laugh, “Okay. You got me, I fucked him.”

“I knew it.” Junwoo’s nostrils flare.

“Hundreds of times, eight years ago,” You spit, standing up quick enough for the chair behind you to tip over. “it wasn’t working out anyway and clearly that’s for the best. The last thing I need is a chauvinist asshole who refuses to see what was right in front of him.”

“I-”

“No,” you put your hand up, “I’m done.”

You turn around swiftly, walking out of his office and ignoring the stares from his receptionists. Surely they heard the yelling and the last thing you needed was to feel judged.

Except you weren’t being judged. Just before you reached the elevator, one of the girls spoke out. “You’re the second break up he’s had this week, don’t feel bad.”

You turn around, watching her flick vivaciously through a magazine. “What was that?” You speak slowly, turning around walking up to the desk.

“Another woman came by earlier this week, she said he’s been fucking some nurse behind her back and threw a ring at him.” She shrugs, then leans forward with a whisper, “You’re better off without him.”

You scoff, “and I had the decency to break up with him before I fucked someone else. Thanks for the tip, darling.”

As soon as the elevator doors close, you whip out your phone and text Yoongi.

To: Suga Delivered: 13:52

Deed is done if you still want me to come by

You make it to your car and hear your phone ding.

From: Suga Received: 13:57

I’ll meet you outside

Your heart flutters, so you start your car and drive as quickly as you can towards the directions of the dorm. It’s not hard, everyone in Seoul is keenly aware of where BTS stay, but there’s an unspoken rule that nobody is to bother them. One of the things you enjoyed most about this whole situation is the amount of respect they boys have earned, and you couldn’t feel more proud of Yoongi.

The gated group of buildings is intimidating to say the least, but you’re unable to contain your excitement as you pull up. Yoongi is a few feet away, waving from the other side of the gate as he presses a few buttons before you hear the gate click and begin to side open.

Your excitement over simply seeing him is nearly too much to contain. A week ago you struggled to not get nauseous at the thought of him seeing you but now you didn’t know how you ever made it without him. Inching your car forward became an arduous task because it took precious seconds away from you being able to kiss Yoongi once again.

So, you throw your car into park as the gates slip closed behind you and run out of your car to jump towards Yoongi.

He catches you, immediately slamming your lips onto his. It’s soft this time, the urgency isn’t there but he doesn’t mind the feeling of your hands gently tugging at his hair and scratching his scalp.

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, “does this mean you’re mine again?”

“With some adjustments to both of our lives,” you smile, “and making time for each other, then I’m willing to try again.”

“Good,” he grins, “let me take you inside and show you how much I’m gonna try.”

He slides you down his torso and grabs your hand, yanking you closely behind him. You let out a quiet yelp as he does so, following him into the building and welcoming the warmth that greets you. You’re lead through a long hallway but are stopped abruptly once Yoongi spots Hoseok walking through the living room.

“Hey pretty nurse, and Yoongi.” Hoseok says without looking up, and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief.

You give him a questioning look but shake it off when Yoongi leads you up a lot of stairs and straight to his bedroom.

“Okay, there’s two ways this can go-” Yoongi slips his shirt over his head and you try to process everything as it’s happening because holy shit you’re going to fuck Yoongi for the first time in years and might actually be able to have an orgasm “-slow and steady or hard and fast.”

“Save the romance for next time,” you giggle, slipping your dress over your head and falling backwards onto his bed, “I haven’t had you inside me in years. Hard and fast.”

He chuckles, “You got it baby.”

He jumps on top of you, his hand flying to your thigh to steady your leg as he grinds his still clothed cock into your core. He’s already hard, and you’re already dripping. The last two days you spent not being near him was the most difficult thing you had experienced because you knew what was coming and how he was going to do it.

And you’re loving every second of it.

Spreading your legs wide, you reach between the two of you and play with the hem of his boxers. He groans into your mouth, inching upward so your hand slips further in, “No teasing, baby girl. Hard and fast.”

“Right, yes. I’m sorry.” you bite his bottom lip before lifting your hips and feeling his hands loop on either side of your panties to slip them down your legs. He drops between your legs immediately and inhales your scent, tossing his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, just like I remember.” Yoongi dives back, his nose brushing against your aching clit while his tongue darts out and licks your quivering hole. You let out a quiet moan but are quick to cover your mouth as you remember there are six other men on the other side of these thin walls.

The pleasure of knowing that he remembers your scent is enough to send you feral, your back arching off the bed as his lips finally wrap around your clit and sucks hard. The obscene sound of him drinking in your juices fills the room, his groans against your core sending chills up your spine. If there was anything you knew about Min Yoongi, it’s that he knew how to use his tongue.

You fill your core begin to heat up as your orgasm builds and before you know it, you’re uncovering your mouth and letting out a moan loud enough to be heard for miles.

Yoongi can’t help but smirk against you as he drinks in your release, moving to trail kisses up your abdomen as you come down from the pleasure.

“You ready for more?” He kisses your lips, and it’s then that you notice his cock his gloriously hard against his stomach, boxers long discarded.

“Please, yes. Please please plea-”

“Alright, hold your horses.” Yoongi jokes, brushing the head of his cock against your slit a few times teasingly.

You pout, “You said no teasing.”

He nods, “I can’t help it. Your face is so cute when you’re begging for my cock.”

As you’re thinking of a rebuttal, Yoongi finally slips inside. Both of you moan in pleasure at the clenching of your core. He remembers exactly how to move to get you to gasp, how deep to move to get you to clench, and he remembers what each of your movements mean. Your nails currently dig into his back harshly but he doesn’t complain, because that means his thrusts are going at just the right speed.

He wishes you can scream like you used to, but he realizes how weird that could be for his bandmates to hear. However, he can’t say that he necesarily minds all things considered. He’d love for Jimin to hear what he’s doing to you after the way his smart mouth moved the other night. He could imagine his face as he listens, but then Yoongi is dragged back to the moment when he feels you clench particularly hard.

You feel him tensing more and more, struggling to hold on as your vice grip on him tightens even further. The soft sponge of your warm cunt is nearly too much for him to bare, and as you feel your second orgasm approach, you grip Yoongi’s face in your hands, “Cum for me. Please.” His eyes flutter closed and he begins to thrust faster, lips on yours and sweat building on both of your foreheads. Then, your second orgasm washes over you deliciously, Yoongi’s hips stuttering before he follows with his own release, his cum coating your walls white. He’s still for a moment, gasping above you. When you reach up and brush the hair from his forehead, he collapses on top of you, “Fuck, that’s even better than I remembered.”

“Good,” you giggle, kissing his nose, “because there’s so much more I want to try with you.”

His heart flutters irrevocably, knocking the wind out of him when he realizes that you’re in this for the long run just as he is. This time he swears he’s going to make it work, and he plans on spending the rest of his life with you.

His lips brush against you once again, then he speaks.

“Write me a list, baby girl.”

#ty for reading!!#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi #suga #bts #suga x reader #suga x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut #min yoongi x reader smut #suga x reader fluff #yoongi x reader fluff

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cherry-glade · 4 years ago

Text

all that is in a name

pairing: aged up!damian wayne x fem!reader

summary: you come to him, and his name is on your hand like you’re showing off to the world that you’re his. damian doesn’t know if he can handle it.

warnings: just a whole lotta sweetness, implications that reader is of south asian descent, unintentional love confessions.

a/n: i am very, very nervous about posting this, but i’ve procrastinated for way too long, so i hope whoever ends up reading this enjoys it!

w/c: 2876 words

Damian notices it as soon as you greet him at the door with a smile and a kiss to his cheek, the rich colour of mehndi on your hands. You’re holding a plastic bag in your hands which he takes from you as you toe your shoes off and then follow him into the kitchen.

“Wedding food,” you explain when he looks through the bag and finds various sweet dishes, as well as little boxes of food and slices of wedding cake. He remembers you telling him about a distant relative’s wedding, remembers expressing his remorse about not being able to accompany you because of prior commitments.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before you both try your best to fit the food into the fridge and then head up to his bedroom after you’ve had a glass of water to quench your thirst.

“I’ve missed you,” you say once you’re there, both curled into each other, and there’s a pang in Damian’s chest. You haven’t seen each other in a while, and it’s mostly his fault, because of missions, but he knows you understand.

“I missed you too, dearly,” he responds, squeezing an arm around your waist as he presses his mouth to your forehead in a chaste kiss, lingering there for a moment so he can breathe in the scent of your shampoo.

You part after a moment or two and Damian’s eyes fall to the second bag dangling from your fingers, smaller than the first. He looks to you, a question on his tongue, but you know him and so you beat him to it.

“The last time I wore mehndi, Cass saw and wanted me to put some on her too,” you explain, reaching into the bag and pulling out a handful of mehndi cones. “So I brought some today for us to try out on her.” His heart warms at the kind gesture, and then he remembers that you’re wearing mehndi too, dark against your skin, and wants to see more of it.

“Show me,” Damian requests, looking down at the deep reddish brown staining your nails and palms. You sit down on the rug with him, placing the bag down beside you and hold your hands out in front of you with your palms up like an offering, an offering Damian will gladly accept.

He carefully takes your hands in his and studies the dark swirls on your skin, the flowers and curling lines and then—letters. Small and almost delicate, tucked away underneath the petal of a flower, but they’re definitely letters spelling out his name.

“Damian?” He hears you say, and looks up to see your face, concerned as your eyes scan over his body like you’re checking for injuries of some sort. “What’s up? You’re not hurt, are you?” You ask, frowning at him.

“It’s my name,” he blurts out, thumb tracing reverently over the letters, and your hands tense up almost imperceptibly, then start to tremble in his. Damian looks up at you, concerned when you avoid his eyes and just stare down at your joined hands, face pale other than the blotchy redness high in your cheeks.

“It’s nothing, really, just a joke,” you try to play off with a wavering smile, but Damian can see right past it. You’re nervous, maybe even a little scared, and it worries Damian because he’s quite certain he hasn’t done anything to frighten you, watching carefully as you try to tug your hands away, but he holds on tight.

His eyes scan over your face, looking for any tells other than you biting your lip and blushing even more each time you meet his eyes or see his name on your hand, and that’s when it hits, and Damian can feel his own face turning red at the implication.

“It’s not—it was my cousin’s idea, not mine,” you begin to explain, still not looking at him, looking at anything but him like you can’t bear to see his face as you say it. “It’s just a little wedding tradition in our culture, where the bride has mehndi applied, and then her future husband’s name or initials are hidden somewhere in the patterns and—”

“And then the groom tries to find it,” Damian finishes your sentence, unable to meet your eyes for fear of you running away after seeing the look in his eyes, the want, the desire to someday take part in this tradition with you.

It scares him, how much he wants of you. With you. But it thrills him too.

“If I’d known beforehand, I wouldn’t have let her do it, I promise,” you swear, and as hard as you might try to hide it, your voice is definitely trembling. “I only noticed afterwards, and if I’d tried to get rid of it, that would’ve just ruined the artist’s hard work and the rest of the design.”

Damian looks up at that, blinking. “Why?” is all he can get out, throat tight. His voice comes out sounding like he’s being strangled because of all that he’s holding back.

You frown, still looking down at your hands. Your cheeks are still red, and Damian wants to kiss you so badly, until they’re a rosy pink instead. “Because it’s all very intricate and close together, so trying to wipe if off would just smudge it all,” you say, clearly misunderstanding what he’s asking you.

“That’s not what—Y/N,” Damian starts, pulse racing. He’s pretty sure he’s sweating a little. He hopes that you can’t smell it. “Why would you want to get rid of it?” Damian asks, irrationally terrified that maybe you don’t want the same things he does. That you don’t want him as much as he wants you.

You finally look up at Damian with wide eyes. “I—we’re not—I guess I just assumed that it would be a bad idea to keep it there,” you say slowly as your eyes flicker over his face, hesitating on the last few words like you’re not sure that you actually want to say them to him.

He should say something. Anything.

You assumed wrong. It wouldn’t be a bad idea. I want this. I want you.

I love you. Always.

But instead, all that comes out is, “You know how to apply mehndi yourself, yes?”

You frown and nod, a confused look on your face at the sudden change of subject.

“I want you to put some on me. Please,” he remembers to add onto the end, and you reward him with a gentle smile, even though Damian can tell that you still don’t understand what he’s thinking.

“You’ll have to fetch me a pair of scissors then, and a few tissues. Maybe a ball pin too, if you have any,” you say as you turn away to fetch a mehndi cone, bag rustling.

Damian takes that as a dismissal and goes to follow your instructions, coming back to find you waiting for him with one of his pillows on your lap, the back of it facing up. You take the scissors from him and snip off a tiny section from the cone, then use the sharp end of the pin to pry it open slightly before holding it near the top and applying gentle pressure until a steady flow of mehndi flows from the open end of it onto a tissue.

“Right or left?” Damian looks away from your hands and into your eyes. You must be able to tell that he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, because you grin as you clarify that you’re asking which hand he wants it on. He places his left hand on the pillow.

He may have trained himself to be ambidextrous, but he uses his right hand more out of habit, and would like the stain, your stain, to last as long as possible.

“You want it on your palm or the outside of your hand?” You say as you wipe the tip of the mehndi cone off and lift his hand into your own, studying it like you could find the secrets of the universe within the lines of his palm.

“Outside,” he says.

You look up at Damian with a quirked eyebrow. “Sure? What if I mess it up?”

“I trust you,” he says.

Damian swears his heart skips a beat when your mouth curls into a fond smile as you press a kiss to the centre of his palm before flipping his hand back over and placing it onto the pillow again, fingertips tracing over his scarred knuckles. “Any type of design in particular? I can freestyle or we can look up pictures on the internet if you’d like.”

“I trust you,” he repeats, and settles down to just watch as you trace out the lines of an intricate flower onto his skin, stopping in between to rub the feeling back into his hand once it starts to feel cold and a little numb. The designs on his fingers are a little simpler but no less beautiful, and each and every dot and swirl is practically perfect.

Somehow, you’ve managed to get a little bit of mehndi on your own finger. But you don’t know this, so it smudges onto your skin when you reach up to scratch the side of your nose, leaving a dark little smear on your cheek. Damian rushes to pick up a tissue and wipe it off so that the stain left behind is as faint as possible, a light orange in colour.

He ends up just looking at your face as you finish off the design, nose wrinkled in concentration, so doesn’t realise you’re done with him until he hears his name being called. Damian looks up to see you smiling at him as you wave your hands with a flourish over his.

“All done. You like it?”

“I—it’s beautiful.” He struggles to meet your eyes. “You’re very talented, beloved.”

You blush and smile even wider until your eyes are crinkling at the corners. “Thank you. Just leave it on for a while now and take it off in the evening, maybe even tomorrow morning if you’d like it to be darker. If you leave it on overnight, you’ll need to wrap your hand in cling wrap, then scrape it off in the sink, but don’t use any water.”

“But—”

“Oh, and if you want it to be darker, once you’re sure it’s completely dry, you can use a cotton ball to dab a mixture of lemon juice and sugar over it, then once it’s scraped off, rub mustard oil on your hand,” you remind Damian as you place the mehndi cone down, not even realising you just cut him off.

“Y/N, it’s not done just yet,” Damian says, breathing in deep and summoning the courage he seems to have lost after looking into your eyes.

“Oh?” You’re frowning, a quizzical little smile playing on your lips. “I’m pretty sure it is.”

“No,” he says, and his voice must be harsher than he’d expected because you just blink at him before frowning even harder, smile completely gone. It makes Damian’s heart hurt.

“Why not?”

Damian looks down at his hand, at your hard work, and notices that the centre of the flower is blank, which gives him an idea. “I want your name on me too,” he says, and it’s almost painful for Damian to be so honest, even though the truth never comes to him more easily than it does when he’s with you.

You stare at him for a while, not understanding. “I want your name on my hand,” Damian clarifies, using his free hand to turn yours over and trace over the letters of his name as he looks straight into your eyes.

“Damian,” you splutter as you try to take your hand back. He lets you this time. “This isn’t a joke. You doing this. I can’t—”

“Please,” he says softly, begs. Damian doesn’t usually beg for things. “It doesn’t have to be your whole name. It can just be your initials,” he tries to bargain.

“There’s nowhere to—”

“You can do it here,” Damian says, eagerly pointing to the empty centre of the flower. “Please, beloved,” he says once more in the hope that you’ll give in to his pleas.

You swallow thickly and pick up the cone again, holding his hand steady as your own fingers tremble their way through tracing your initials onto his skin, and then you let go of him like you’ve burnt yourself as he stares down at his hand, fingers hovering just above it.

“Is that okay?” You ask, uncertainty evident in your voice. He doesn’t answer, too mesmerised by what you’ve just done.

“Damian.”

Still no answer.

“Damian—”

“It’s perfect,” he cuts you off. “I love you.” Your head snaps up and Damian immediately realises his mistake. “It. I love it.”

Fuck.

That didn’t come out right, but... fuck it.

“I love you,” Damian confesses, and he’s not going to look away from you now that the truth is out. He refuses to hide it any longer. Your eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them, and his heart is about to leap out of his throat.

“You... love me?” You repeat, and for some reason, you look shocked. Like it’s a surprise to you that Damian ended up falling in love with you, though it shouldn’t be. Damian’s quite certain that it was basically inevitable.

“I love you,” he confirms, and your face softens.

“You love me,” you repeat, with the softest of smiles. “And I love you. That’s quite convenient, isn’t it?”

Damian’s breath catches in his throat. “You love me?” He asks, just to be sure. He’d be embarrassed by the way his voice cracks if it weren’t for the fact that he’s waiting for you to say those words again, to reassure him that this isn’t just some dream of his destined to turn into a nightmare—it’s reality.

“I do,” you reassure him, and Damian’s heart swells until it feels like it’s almost too big for his chest, far too full of love to be contained by something so very small.

“I see,” he breathes out shakily, and you snort at him, eyes shining with laughter and—and love.

“You’re such a dork,” you murmur, fond. You lift a hand to cup his cheek and Damian leans into it, eyes fluttering closed for just a moment before opening again. “I basically took part in a wedding tradition for you. What about that says I don’t love you?”

“Nothing. I was just... being silly, I suppose,” Damian whispers as he leans in close enough for your noses to brush, making sure to move his hand out of the way so nothing smudges. Your eyes close as you smile, bright enough that Damian has no choice other than to smile back at you, even if you can’t see it.

His fingers come up to circle your wrist, his own eyes closing as the two of you gently press your foreheads together, and then his hand is moving to keep your palm pressed to his face, fingers tangling together.

You both sit there in a comfortable silence, just existing together for a while. Damian can’t stop smiling every time he opens his eyes to peek at your face and finds you looking right back at him. His love for you makes him feel giddy with happiness, as it should.

Soon enough, his siblings come to bother the two of you. First, it’s Richard, coming to coo at how cute you both are and almost forgetting that Damian’s hand is still wet when he pulls you into a hug. And then it’s Cassandra, silently waiting for you to attend to her too with a pleased smile on her face as she notices the way you’re both looking at each other, unwilling to be parted.

Eventually you give in though, pulling Damian to his feet and opening the door for him even though he has a free hand. Perhaps it’s because you know that he wants to hold yours. Perhaps it’s because you want to hold his too.

You all gather in the kitchen, where Timothy is already waiting with a mug of steaming coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. He lets go of both though to greet you with a hug, complimenting your own mehndi. It’s as you and Cassandra are settling into chairs and scrolling through designs on your phone for ideas that Timothy notices Damian’s hand, attentive as always.

“Is that—?” He starts to ask, looking down at your initials. Damian looks over to you, laughing at something Richard has just said as you check how much mehndi you have left in your open cone, probably wondering if you’ll have to use another one.

It might have been unintentional on your part, but you unabashedly wear Damian’s name on your hand like you don’t care about the possible consequences, if there are any, of showing people that you’re his.

“Yes,” Damian answers, turning back to face his older brother.

He’s not afraid of letting the world know that he’s yours either.

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #dc #sfw #my fic

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troubatrain · 4 years ago

Text

delicate - m. barzal

a/n: a repost from my old blog!

You walked down Canal St, cursing Mat for making you come this far downtown in the middle of a Saturday afternoon to the Lower East Side. You knew why he did it, the perfect distance between your place in You opened the door of the dive bar, and spotted Mat in the back corner, pizza in front of him with two beers waiting for you.

“Please don’t ever make me come this far down Canal St again in my life Mathew,” You say, sliding into the booth and taking a sip of the drink that was waiting, “Also can you have picked a sadder place?”

Mathew’s smile was on full display, “You told me lowkey?”

“I told you lowkey because you’re obsessed with the notion that someone might see us, eating a meal together,” You say, referencing an agreement you’d made when you guys started hooking up.

“Do you really want all of that bullshit that goes along with people seeing us, be honest,” Mathew deadpans, a knowing look on his face.

You knew he was right, he’d seen people’s lives torn apart the second someone found out on the internet that he was seeing them. He’s seen it happen to his teammates and he really just wanted to keep you safe. You had your own successes and you did enjoy your privacy.

“Okay fine, why’d you wanna see me anyways?” You reluctantly agree.

“Oh, um I’m playing at MSG tomorrow, if you were interested?” Mat offers, hoping maybe you’d come if the game was at least in Manhattan.

“You made me come all the way here to ask me to go to your game?” You ask.

“Okay I was also hungry, and I wanted to see your pretty face,” Mat compliments, a smirk gracing his lips, “Among other things.”

“You could’ve cut the middle man and brought take out to my apartment,” You say back.

“Can I try and keep the romance alive, taking you to a nice lunch before I go back to your place and fuck you into your mattress,” Mat says, causing you to laugh.

Mathew really was a good guy, and in another life, you did think you could be in a relationship. He was nice, and he did actually respect you. He’d won over your roommate, always remembering to bring her food or coffee when he would bring it for you. He was honest with you, always and he never did anything without your consent. But, you were both twenty two and living in New York, there was no reason to settle down. Mat’s schedule was hectic, and quite frankly so was yours, you both barely found the time to have sex.

“Wow, maybe people should see us, so I can post on Instagram how romantic you are,” You joke.

The two of you spend the lunch catching up, you ranting about how awful your week was, Mat knowing you’ve been having a rough time at work. When the two of you started hooking up, you guys kept things about your lives private- trying to keep yourselves from catching feelings. But, when you’d gone over to his apartment and he could feel how stressed you were from how tense your shoulders were under his touch. You two didn’t even have sex that night, he’d run you a bath, and the two of you sat in the tub while you ranted and raved about how your boss was driving you absolutely insane. Thing’s had shifted that night, and the two of you never went back. You were sincerely Mat’s friend and you knew he was yours. There was a fine line between your friendship staying as a friendship and Mat and yourself were definitely walking on it but for the time being you just didn’t care.

You step into Madison Square Garden, the Islanders set to take on the Rangers and you knew it was a big game. You were a big Ranger fan growing up, your father was still a huge fan, but you hadn’t caught a game in a while. It never stopped you from giving Mat shit for playing for the Islanders even though he knew you really didn’t care much at all. Mat had left you and your roommate tickets, right against the glass. You watched as Mat skated around for his pregame skate, and you had to admit, the whole hot athlete thing wasn’t something you totally got. But, watching him skate around the ice with his hair on full display you were starting to.

“Maybe I should have gone to one of his games earlier,” you say to your roommate, eyes never leaving Mat.

“You’re drooling,” your roommate says, “Remind me not to come home tonight.”

“Are you going to stay at your boyfriend’s?” You ask, curious if you’d be able to have Mat over without bothering her.

“I planned on it,” she says, blushing a little bit at the mention of the guy she’d been seeing lately. You had yet to meet him, but she was spending an awful lot of time there.

The game was well underway when you started to eavesdrop on the two girls behind you, gossip about players on both teams.

“I wonder if Barzal is single?” The one girl asks, your ears perking up at the sound.

“No, I read on the internet he’s some girl in Vancouver that he flies out,” The girl says, as if she knew this was a fact. Your skin crawled at the comment, and you weren’t sure why. Mat wasn’t yours and he didn’t owe you any sort of explanations.

The Islanders ended up with a big win, Mat tying the game with a few seconds left and taking it to overtime in which he ended the game with another goal. You wanted to be happy, knowing exactly what mood Mat was after a big win, but you couldn’t be because you couldn’t stop thinking about those girls behind you.

You’d met Mat outside of MSG, him slipping out easily, hair still wet from his post game shower. He grabbed your face immediately, planting a kiss on your lips in the middle of Midtown.

“Good game?” You ask, knowing exactly why he so boldly kissed you in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I mean it was okay,” He smiles, waving down a taxi and giving the driver your address. Mat’s hand immediately lands on your thigh, his face filled with concern when he realizes how tense his hand was making you.

“Are you okay?” He asks lowly, not to bother your taxi driver.

“Fine, we’ll talk later,” You say, sighing and laying your head on his shoulder. It wasn’t his fault you were being a jealous brat, and you didn’t want him to have to worry about it.

Mat nods, his hand moving to play your hair, something he knew you liked when you were upset. You take the ride to your place in silence, taking in the city streets as you head downtown. You head up to your apartment, letting Mat in behind you. He sits on your couch, kicking off his dress shoes.

“Alright spill,” Mat demands, “Did I do something? You never tense up like that with me.”

“No you didn’t do anything,” You sigh, “It’s just- you know what nevermind.”

“No, it’s just what?” Mat asks.

“These girls behind me were talking about you and girls from back home that you fly out and all of this stuff and you don’t owe me shit but I was a little jealous,” you blurt out.

Mat smiles, long arms grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of him, both of your legs straddling his waist, “Babe, I’m yours, no one else’s.”

The simple statement felt like a different page of your relationship was about to be written. You planted your lips on his, his moving to your back almost as an instinct. The two you moved in sync with each other until you finally pulled away, your forehead leaning against Mat’s.

“Mine,” You whisper, planting a quick peck on his lips.

“Yours,” Mat smiles, kissing you again slowly.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years ago

Note

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

#geraskier #laiden #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #aiden #eskel #radio au #long post #tldr: jaskier drives a truck while geralt is a dj

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lunar-wandering · 4 years ago

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Mountains, Caves, Who Cares?

@winterpower98 because a few months ago you asked for a fanfic of a scenario I created, and I am happy to oblige.

Summary: Through a series of events, Macaque, MK, and Wukong end up trapped in a cave again. This wouldn’t be much of a problem if it weren’t for the fact that Wukong is kind of claustrophobic.

Word Count: 1.4k

Read on Ao3

---

"Wukong, if you keep pacing like that, I will not hesitate to punch you." Macaque threatened. Wukong temporarily paused his pacing to turn and glare at him.

"Try me." He said. The two of them glowered at each other, until MK stepped between them, concerned.

"C'mon guys, we can't do this again." He said, "You two do still remember how we got trapped in here in the first place, right?"

You see, this had all started out as a simple training session between MK and Wukong, with Macaque watching on the sidelines, as he currently wasn't allowed to be out of either of MK or Wukong's sight. Thing had been going fine, that is, until Macaque chose to comment on Wukong's training style, saying that he was being 'too gentle'. Wukong, as one would expect, took offense to this, responding with something along the lines of Macaque's training just being 'too rough'. And then, before MK could even register what was happening, the two of them had started fighting again.

Now, at the start, MK wasn't all that concerned, as it wasn't that out of the ordinary for those two to fight. He did start to worry however, when he noticed bits of the mountain they had been training beside start to shake and crumble. It eventually got to the point where MK had to start dodging large pieces of rocks to avoid being crushed.

He must've miscalculated his dodge at some point, as Wukong and Macaque both shouted his name, before tackling him back into a small cave, just barely saving him by getting hit by a large boulder, at the expense of all 3 of them getting trapped in the cramped space. They quickly found that the area was too unstable for either Wukong or Macaque to get them out without the entire cave collapsing, and figured that it wasn't worth the risk of them not being fast enough to get MK out before the whole thing crumbled. Thankfully, thanks to the unlimited Wifi/Data plan Wukong had given to MK, he could easily text Mei and inform her of the problem, so now it was just a waiting game.

...A waiting game that was clearly starting to grate on Macaque and Wukong's nerves.

MK sighed, trying to think of something to defuse the tension, when his phone dinged with another message from Mei. Oh. That could work.

"Hey guys," He said, "Mei sent me some puppy videos and vines to watch while we wait, if you want to."

"...What's a vine?" Macaque asked. MK gasped in (partially faux) horror.

"How can you not know what a vine is?!" He asked.

"It's not my fault that I'm an immortal who barely interacts with modern tech." Macaque replied.

"Being immortal isn't an excuse, Monkey King is immortal too and he knows vines!" MK said, "Monkey King, quote a vine!"

"Freshavocado." Wukong deadpanned.

"See?"

"...That's just because he's an idiot with nothing better to do with his time." Macaque said.

"Hey! I take offense to that!" Wukong said, his tail fluffing up in irritation. Macaque smirked.

"Good, that's what I intended." He said. MK could sense that if he didn't interrupt, another fight would break out, so he did the first thing that came to mind.

He pushed Macaque to the ground, sat down beside him, and practically shoved his phone into his face.

"Wh- hey!"

"Stop arguing with Monkey King and learn some Internet Culture." MK said, "Monkey King, do you wanna watch too?"

"Uh..... no. I'm. Fine over here." Wukong said, before going back to his pacing. MK shrugged, and pressed play on the first vine compilation Mei sent him.

---

A few minutes later, and MK was starting to get concerned. He didn't think Macaque had noticed, considering how drawn in to watching the videos he'd become as soon as they had started, but Wukong's pacing had slowly but steadily been getting more frantic. His tail's movement had gone way past what MK had come to recognize as stimming and had landed somewhere much more... agitated, he'd say. He'd also started chewing on his nails.

Thinking about it for a moment, MK made his decision, and paused the video, bringing Macaque's attention back to the present as well.

"Uhh, Monkey King, are you alright?" MK asked, genuinely concerned. Wukong stopped pacing, turning to give MK a smile. It wasn't very convincing.

...Especially since, now that Wukong was no longer pacing, MK could see that he was trembling.

"I'm fiNe." Wukong said, then winced as his voice cracked in the middle of his sentence. Macaque snorted.

"Never thought I'd see the day when the mighty Monkey King would experience a voice crack- ow!" He said, cutting himself off when MK smacked his shoulder, glaring at him. Macaque glanced at MK's mad, but still incredibly concerned face, and then back at the still shaking Wukong, and then sighed, standing up and reaching out his hand.

"Alright, Wukong, you've got the kid all worked up, just come over here and tell us what's-"

"Don't touch me." Wukong hissed, and Macaque froze, watching as Wukong backed further away from him. "I'm fine, I just, give me a moment-"

Wukong's back made contact with the stone wall of the cave, and something in his mind seemed to snap, as he instinctively jumped away from it, shaking, hyperventilating, and, apparently no longer having the effort to keep up a calm and collected act, sat down on the ground, curling up a little. Macaque stood near him, close but not touching, not entirely sure what was going on or what he should do.

Looking at his mentor on the ground, MK mentally thought of all the stories he had learned about him, hoping to find something to explain what was going on. And then it clicked. MK hurriedly signaled to Macaque, catching his attention.

'Mountain'. He signed, grateful for the few sign language lessons Wukong had been giving him, in the case of an emergency.

'500 years. Mountain.'

Macaque seemed to understand what MK was implying, if his wince was anything to go by. Neither of them were really quite sure were they should go from here, now that they knew what the problem was. The best thing to do would be to get Wukong out of the cave, but MK's phone said they still had about 20 minutes before Mei would show up to get them out, so that option was currently off the list. So the next best thing would be to find a way to calm Wukong down, but, to be honest, neither Macaque or MK had much experience in this department.

Didn't mean they couldn't try.

MK scooted closer to Wukong, not too close though, not wanting Wukong to feel more trapped than he already clearly did.

"Hey, hey, Monkey King, it's uh. It's going to be fine. We're going to be fine." MK said.

"The kid's right, Peaches." Macaque said, sitting down on the ground on the other side of Wukong. "We won't be in here for much longer. That dragon girl's already on her way."

Wukong gave a shaky laugh.

"Heh. 'S been a long time since you've called me that." He mumbled.

"Called you what?" Macaque asked.

"Peaches."

"Oh." Macaque said, lightly blushing as he glanced away. "I didn't even notice I said that... sorry."

"It's fine." Wukong said, "....Keep talking, 's a good distraction."

MK glanced at the two of them, sensing that there was some history between them that he hadn't been told about. ...Now probably wouldn't be the best time to ask though, so instead he started rambling on about some of the weirder stories from his noodle delivery days, hoping that they'd cheer Wukong up a little as well as distracting him.

---

When Mei finally got the rocks out of the way, the first one out of the cave was Wukong, who shot out of there with an impressive speed, using his cloud to fly away and leaving the others far behind. Macaque and MK walked out of the cave soon after.

"Well that was rude." Mei said, "He didn't even say thank you."

"Just let him be for now, Mei." MK said, "Monkey King.... needs a bit of space right now."

Considering that Wukong had run off, Macaque guessed that it would be best for him to stay the night at MK's place instead, and leave Wukong to himself for a little.

...The next morning, MK awoke to a basket of peaches for him and Macaque on his doorstep.

#Monkie Kid #Wukong #MK #Macaque #Fanfic #My Writing

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beauvibaby · 4 years ago

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The Feeling When...

— • you meet Anthony Beauvillier at your job, and instantly click, but then he sets you up with his best friend, what could go wrong?

word count: 7.8k

a/n: I wrote this whole thing in less than 24 hours, I’m not sure how, but I really put my all into this and I’m proud of it, hopefully I can do it again sometime

The bell above the door chiming made you lift your head, smiling at the guy who just walked in. Basketball shorts and a tight fitting sports top covering his body, a small layer of sweat on his skin, one earbud in and the other hanging around his neck, his phone in his hand. He had yet to see you as you made your way to your spot behind the counter, politely excusing yourself from the lady you had been speaking with. You took in the way his blue eyes lit up when they landed on the muffin in the case, telling you he probably had yet to eat this morning, he ran a hand through his already tousled hair, finally stepping towards the counter as someone walked in behind him. “Good morning.” You spoke softly as he lifted his eyes to meet yours, you could swear his eyes widened slightly before settling into a warm smile. “Good morning.” He had the faintest bit of an accent, you made a mental note of that. You smiled in return, suddenly forgetting your words, “what can I get for you?” You inquired, watching his eyes dart between the muffin and you, he smiled when you laughed softly, grabbing a paper to put the muffin into a bag. “And a coffee, please.” He spoke, pulling his debit card out of his wallet while you whisked around to grab his coffee, a smile graced his face when you glanced back at him. He stepped aside so your coworker could help the next person in line, turning towards him, you took the few short steps, setting the to go cup down in front of him. You typed in his order, allowing the total to come up on the screen for him, “thank you,” he paused, picking up the bag, “Y/N.” He concluded, reading the name off your tag, lifting up the coffee cup. “You’re welcome.” You responded, trying not to seem like you were asking for his name, “Anthony.” He spoke, backing up slowly before turning on his heels, you watched with lingering eyes as he walked out the door.

***

Again, the familiar chime of the bells shook you from your head, except this time you weren’t working, you were huddled up in the corner laptop open in front of you. The internet in your apartment was out, and wouldn’t be fixed for a few days, so you had made the short walk to the cafe, you got an employee discount, and it was free wifi, so at least you had a couple of hours to ponder the internet, catching up on the latest facebook drama, reading gossip about celebrities, the usual. Your eyes landed on a much more put together version of Anthony, you had thought he looked good before, he looked even better now, the grey dress pants leading to the white button up shirt, it was a good look. You awkwardly shifted your gaze down when he started to look towards you. He moved up in the short line, you could feel his eyes landing on you every once in a while, you resisted the urge to look up and meet those blue eyes. When you no longer felt his eyes on you, you glanced up, hearing his voice over the small chatter in the building, he ordered the same as he had the other day. That warm smile on his face, a calm and cool demeanor radiating from him, welcoming even. The type that would have a girl head over heels for him. Surely, he had a girlfriend, the thought ran through your mind, which resulted in getting you caught staring.

The soft chuckle that fell from his lips made a flutter rush through your chest.

“Is this seat taken?” Anthony questioned, voice delicate as he glanced at where you not so gracefully had your feet propped up, you glanced around and saw many open seats, but who were you to turn down a perfectly attractive guy who wanted to sit with you. “Oh, no, go ahead.” You whispered, smiling up at him as you slid your feet off the chair, watching him rest his body against it. You pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, silence overcoming the both of you as you stole glances at each other, completely oblivious to the other doing the same. You decided to bite the bullet and closed your laptop, making his eyes shoot up from the muffin he had been picking at, a closed lip smile on his face as you giggled under your breath. “So, Anthony was it?” You teased, feeling comfortable around him, despite him being a total stranger, because if we’re being honest, knowing his coffee order doesn’t make you acquaintances. “Last time I checked, that was my name.” He responded with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyes scanning over the sweater you had on, it was well worn, but looked nice with the v-neck cut into the front. “Mhm,” you hummed, hiding your smile with a sip of your own drink, “well, Anthony. What’s got you so dressed up?” You inquired, he glanced down at his clothes, like he had forgotten what he was even wearing. He shot a playful smile at you, breaking off a piece of the pastry in front of him. “What do you think?” He quipped, tossing the piece of food into his mouth, nearly missing and bouncing it off his chin, but he played it off.

“I would say a date, but I think you know better than to come talk to another girl when you have one waiting.” You mumbled, watching as he nearly choked on his food, a laugh tumbling from his lips. “No, there’s no girl, I just came from work.” The way he said there was no girl, it made your heart flip in your chest. Pushing it aside, you picked up your conversation, “work?” You hummed, looking to the ceiling in thought. “It’s the middle of the day, so if this was a lunch break, you’re clearly not working in the city.” You spoke, watching as he nodded in agreement, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You could be a manager somewhere, I guess.” You trailed off, peeking under the table at his shoes, they looked fairly expensive. “Not even close, Y/N.” He snickered, the ease of which he used your name, once again sending your heart into a skipping rhythm. You racked your brain for ideas, truly wanting to guess what it was that he did. For a brief moment, you wondered, could he possibly be in the limelight, but you pushed it aside, certainly you’d recognize someone as handsome as him.

“Well, this just isn’t fair, you know what I do,” you motioned to the room you were sat in, “but you’re just letting me humiliate myself with horrible guesses.” You laughed light heartedly, he shrugged his shoulders, sipping on his coffee, “hockey.” He mumbled, watching you cutely tilt your head to the side, confusion covering your features. God, what he would do to get to see you look at him like that all the time, a childlike quality in your demeanor that brought him peace. “Hockey, I play hockey.” He repeated, in a stronger voice this time. You nodded slowly, “oh.” You muttered, the realization hitting you, “oh, oh, you mean professionally?” You gasped, sitting up a little straighter at the sudden epiphany. Anthony nodded, eyes crinkling slightly when he laughed at how panicked you must have looked. “Long Island, oh my god, you play for the Islanders.” You spoke sheepishly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks. “Yeah, I do.” He responded, glancing at his phone as it lit up, he quickly shut the screen down again. “Have you ever been to a game?” He inquired, the way his voice raised slightly caught your attention. “No, I haven’t.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater again.

“You should come, I can get you tickets-unless, uh you have a boyfriend.” He spoke awkwardly, shifting in his seat. “I don’t.” You answered, watching his eyes widen, his lips seeming to move before his brain could catch up with what he was saying. “Oh, great, I have a friend, Mat. I think you two would really hit it off.” He spoke, hiding the way he wanted to curse himself for spitting those words out. You hid the disappointment on your face, “oh, that’s really nice, Anthony-” “Tito, call me Tito, please.” He cut you off, before motioning to continue. “Ok, Tito. That’s sweet but I don’t think that’s a great idea, I hardly know you, let alone this Mat person.” You sighed softly, expecting him to just give in at your words, but you’d come to find out really quickly that he was stubborn. “Please, it’s the least I could do for taking up your time.” He assured you, looking away as you chewed your lip in thought. Worse comes to worse, you’re getting a free ticket to the game, what’s the worst that could happen? “If you insist.” You gave in, he had to hide his excitement, since he blew his chance by mentioning Mat. “Can I have your number?” He questioned, and you shot your eyebrows up, letting out a surprised, “what?” Before you could stop yourself. Tito smiled at your reaction, “so I can keep in touch about the ticket.” He assured you, he made an observation of the way you let out a soft “oh”, something you did quite often when you were caught off guard. “Right, yeah, of course.” You rattled off, holding your hand out for his phone, hating the way you could feel the heat rushing to your face. He handed you the device, open on a new contact, you typed in your name, and number quickly before handing it back to him. You watched him quickly add something before saving it. “I’ll text you? To find out when you can come.” He spoke, sliding out of the seat, only then did you realize how long you had been talking to each other. “Yeah, that works.” You murmured, “Bye, Tito.” You added as he headed towards the door, “bye, Y/N.”

A text from Tito came a lot sooner than you had expected, that same night he shot you a message.

“Hey, It’s Anthony”

You smiled at the screen, before reminding yourself he was setting you up with his friend and not with himself.

“I was told to call you Tito”

“Sorry, let me start again - Hey, it’s Tito. Is that better for you?”

“It’ll have to do, I guess, but I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”

You watched the reaction pop up on your phone, him sending a haha to it before the dots came up showing he was typing.

“So, there’s a game coming up next weekend, Saturday, if you’re free…”

“That works!”

You thought maybe it came off too excited, when he read it but didn’t respond. Then your phone lit up with a text,

“Great, Mat is very excited.”

A sigh fell from your lips as you typed a robotic response,

“I am too!”

And that was that.

****

Saturday came before you knew it, the whole ride to the arena you were nervously chewing your lip, rubbing your sweaty palms on your jean clad legs. You had done some googling, and watching how they could get slammed into the boards had your skin crawling, how anyone could get enjoyment out of that was beyond you.

Once you arrived, you had hoped your nervousness would die down, but it only grew as you walked to your seat, close to the glass, and became surrounded by people in Islanders gear. You made it to your spot, and sighed in relief, at least you were there and you could try to enjoy the game, keyword being try.

The second the guys skated so effortlessly onto the ice, your nerves shot back up, searching for the only two jersey numbers you cared to memorize, eighteen and thirteen. Of course they skated alongside each other, stopping in front of your section, you waved sheepishly, watching them both grin. “Hi” you mouthed, unable to stop the blush rising to your face when Mat waved back. You couldn’t deny, he was attractive, but your mind kept bouncing back to Tito. The way he caught your attention so effortlessly, you watched as they spoke to each other as they turned to truly begin their warm ups, Tito glancing back at you with this look you couldn’t fully decipher, before shaking his head at his friend, your mind wandered with what it was they had spoken about. Surely it couldn’t be about you, what was there to say? Especially to cause Tito to look at you the way he did, almost in a concerning manner. There was a tap to the glass in front of you, Mat holding a puck for you, he motioned for you to stand and you did, easily catching it as he tossed it over to you. A smile on your face as you saw he had signed it with a silver marker,

“Hi - Mat Barzal”

You shook your head with a laugh as he grinned boyishly at you, the enthusiasm he showed encouraged you to be more open minded to this set up, it’s not very often that someone would end up in the situation you found yourself in. “Thank you” you mouthed, feeling the eyes of girls around you, suddenly realizing you’d need to develop thick skin to be around these boys.

The game flew by and before you knew it you were being pulled to the side by some big burly guy, with a security badge, and you began to panic. “Y/N Y/L/N?” He questioned trailing off, and you nodded, “Mr. Barzal asked me to catch you before you left, he wants to bring you down to see him.” He spoke lightly in contrast to his gruff looks. “Oh.” You whispered, “oh, yeah ok.” You came to your senses, awkwardly following the man, feeling eyes following you as he directed you down a hallway and out a large door. “I-uh-can I ask you something,” You paused waiting for his name, “Jeffrey.” He spoke, his voice still shocking you in comparison to his large build and thick beard. “Can I ask you something, Jeffrey?” You completed your earlier question. “Sure, why not.” He humored you, his face aging for a moment when he smiled and his skin crinkled together. “Does Mat do this often? Bring girls down here after games I mean.” You couldn’t help but ask, some minor worries overtaking your conscience. Jeffrey stayed quiet, giving you a sideways glance. “A lot is a stretch, I’d say sometimes.” He finally chose his words, carefully tiptoeing around the subject, not wanting to put himself in a compromising position. You nodded, deciding against saying anything as the elevator slowed to a stop, the doors opened and Jeffrey stepped out, pointing to a row of chairs down the hall. “Wait there, he should be out soon.” He spoke, walking off like he hadn’t just left a complete stranger outside of the locker room, where anyone could find them.

It felt like an eternity, but in actuality it was only ten minutes until Mat walked out, dressed in his pregame suit, hair combed back after his shower. “Y/N.” He smiled, and you shot to your feet, “Hi.” You smiled, allowing him to give you a short hug, but your mind slipped into thinking what it would feel like to be hugging Tito in this moment. “How’d you like the game?” He asked, the two of you slowly walking down the hall, your heeled ankle boots clicking on the cement. You didn’t know where you were walking to, but you followed him. “It was good! I’d never seen one before.” You answered cheerily, keeping pace with him, he smiled down at you. “Really?” He gasped, faking offence, a hand resting over his heart. “Yes, really.” You laughed softly, feeling his eyes scan you over. You didn’t want to admit that you could tell the sparks weren’t really there, for either of you, as far as you could tell. He was kind, definitely, and attractive, but he seemed more like a friend, or a brother if you will, and that isn’t how any girl wants to feel when they’re on a date. “Did you want to go grab something to eat?” He offered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You nodded, deciding to still humor the scenario, “sure.” You gave him your signature smile. He mirrored it, and you could tell you were both being polite, but it was still a nice night. He was a gentleman, of course, paying for your food despite your protests, offering to drive you home, but caving when you insisted on taking an Uber home was fine.

While you were waiting for your car, Mat stayed beside you, his phone chiming with a text from Tito, which he instantly showed you, and the two of you laughed softly.

“Double date, with me and Kylie?”

“Who’s Kylie?” You asked Mat, after hesitantly agreeing, it would be fun, at least, since you got along well with Mat. “Some girl, I don’t know why he even talks to her, she just wants to hook up but get the perks of nice dates.” Mat scoffed, and you had to hide a laugh. “It is pretty funny.” He commented, causing you both to start laughing hysterically on the side of the street. “I’m glad we agree on that.” You giggled, catching Mat smiling at you.

Maybe, had you not known his best friend, you would kiss him in that moment.

“I’ll text you, to set up this sure to be weird double date.” He spoke, as the Uber pulled up to the curb. “Alright, thanks for tonight, it was fun.” You told him, and he could tell in that moment that you both were on the same page, he thought you were beautiful, and kind, and funny, but he didn’t have that chemistry that he could see between you and Anthony. His mind wandered to the question he asked on the ice,

“Are you sure you aren’t interested in her, you look at her in that way.” Mat sighed, skating beside Tito in warmups, he watched his friend glance back at you in your seat, a pink tint on your cheeks from the earlier interaction. “No, I’m sure, you two would hit it off.” Tito sighed softly shaking his head, pushing his thoughts aside, he had royally screwed up, and there was no way he could fix it himself.

Mat came to his senses when you leaned up and gave him a quick kiss to his cheek, “goodnight, Mat.” You mumbled, slipping into the car, “goodnight.” He replied, shutting the door for you.

****

You smiled as you opened your apartment door, Anthony smiling widely from the other side, “I brought cheetos.” He sang teasingly, for a moment you truly wanted to wrap him in a hug, relieved to see him. “You’re the best.” You sighed, snatching the bag from him, it’s been a couple of weeks since your date with Mat, you’ve kept in touch, but haven’t really seen each other since then, he came into your job a couple times, but that's all. You and Tito have been spending a lot of time together, whenever your schedules allowed, and for a while you had thought maybe this double date wasn’t going to happen, but then of course as he stepped into your apartment—like he had grown accustomed too. “So, I don’t know if Mat asked you yet, but I was thinking Friday night for that double date.” He spoke casually, missing the way your whole body tensed at his words. “Uh, yeah that works.” You answered softly, disguising your sadness by offering him a cheeto from the bag he so graciously brought you. “I bought you a whole bag, and I only get one? Must have been a really bad day.” He teased, you nodded silently, “indeed it was, Beau.” You plopped yourself down on your couch, him following suit like the two of you had begun to do, him on the other end of your couch as you laid, feet beside him. He listened intently as you two catched up on things from the past few days, anyone looking in would assume the two of you were together, if not, close to it, but you two told yourselves that it was nothing. You were being friendly, that's all, friends do this all the time, right? Besides, he did set you up with his friend after all.

***

“You look beautiful.” Mat complimented as you opened the door, he was picking you up for the double date, you had your hair curled lightly, letting it fall behind your shoulders, it was early spring, so there was still a light chill in the air, especially at night. So you had opted for a red sweater dress, throwing a lightweight jean jacket over top. “Thank you.” You smiled, smoothing out the material, “let me just grab my bag.” You held up a finger, rushing quickly to grab it off the counter. “Ready?” He smiled when you came back. “Yeah, I think so.” You made sure you had your keys and phone in the bag before locking the door on your way out.

“This should be interesting.” Mat sighed as he pulled up to the valet, Anthony and this Kylie girl, standing on the curb, you shivered at the sight of her. A barely there dress covering her skin, pin straight bleached hair hanging over her shoulders, and way to dramatic makeup covering her face. “Oh.” You let out softly, laughing at the sight of them, Tito looked way to put together to be beside her, “I agree.” Mat sighed, putting the car in park, climbing out as you followed suit, once again smoothing out the material covering your skin. “Hey guys.” Anthony grinned, all but pulling Kylie along to greet you both. You gave him a quick hug, smiling and waving politely at Kylie, who barely repeated the actions, but you could tell her eyes lingered on Mat’s body a bit longer than it should have. Mat and Anthony made small talk as you were led to the table in the restaurant, leaving you and Kylie in awkward silence. She gave you an odd glance when Mat pulled out your chair, you brushed it off, telling yourself there is no way that this was Tito’s type. “How have you been?” You asked, trying to break the silence as you all looked over the menu. “Good.” Anthony spoke, Mat agreeing as he smiled softly at you.

It continued awkwardly, everyone loosened up after the food arrived, and the wine kept coming. You all quickly learned that Kylie was a lightweight, and a flirty drunk. You grimaced as she ran her hand up the back of Tito’s neck, he shifted slightly, almost as if her touch made him uncomfortable. “So, dessert?” Mat piped up, clearing his throat when he jumped in his spot slightly, “you ok?” You questioned sweetly, he leaned over and whispered in your ear. “She just slid her foot up my leg.” He stayed there for a moment as you processed his words, you stifled back a laugh, hand covering your mouth. Tito raised a brow as the two of you pulled away from each other laughing. “Nothing.” Mat brushed him off, “so Kylie, how long have you and Tito known each other?” You asked, glancing up from the dessert menu that you and Mat were looking over. “Who?” She questioned, looking away from Anthony, eyes hazed over, he held in a sigh. “Anthony.” You trailed off, looking between the two like they were insane. “Oh,” she laughed, hand running down his arm, “a couple months.” She spoke, as if he was the light of her world, where we all could tell she wanted to hook up and get on her way. You nodded, leaning closer to Mat as you let a tiny yawn slip, it was more of a reaction thing, after tonight, you and Mat had mutually decided you would stop trying to pursue anything romantic. He slipped an arm over your shoulder, Anthony’s jaw clenched at the sight for a moment, something Mat definitely noticed. You didn’t as you turned to mutter to Mat about the cheesecake, he nodded in agreement, you shut the menu and placed it by the edge of the table.

“OH! Alright,” Mat slid his chair back abruptly, glaring at Kylie, “that’s enough.” He demanded, and you had to hide your laugh by sipping on your wine, Anthony looked between the two with confused eyes. “What’s going on?” Anthony questioned, you all but choked on your wine as Mat shrunk into his seat. “Shall I?” You teased when Mat stayed silent, he nodded, running a hand over his face as he calmed his blush down. “Your date has been attempting to play footsie with him all night.” You spoke with a straight face, Tito just stared at you, like you were joking. He broke out into laughter, taking you both off guard, Kylie huffed dramatically, standing up, “I’m leaving.” She snapped, the three of you looked at each other and began laughing together. “Goodnight, Kylie.” You called, nearly snorting when she gave you a hair flip, you turned to Mat, hiding your red from laughter face in his neck, again making you miss the way Anthony’s face faltered, although, Mat noticed it and shot his friend and apologetic look. “I think I’m going to call it a night.” Anthony announced and you all but shot up in your seat. “Are you sure?” You questioned solemnly, the alcohol in your veins slowing your reflexes, letting the words slip from your mouth before you could stop it. “Yeah.” He muttered flagging down the waiter so he could pay his part of the check, you glanced at Mat who had an unreadable expression on his face. “Have a good night, Tito.” You spoke when he stood after paying his part. “You too.” He answered shortly, taking you off guard, you sunk into your seat, reaching for your wine glass as you watched him walk away. “And we’re not gonna do that.” Mat took the glass from you, shaking his head when you gave him a pleading look.

“Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people in this much denial.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, pulling his card out for dinner, you stopped him, putting your own down instead, he didn’t fight you, not wanting to push you tonight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed, crossing your arms, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh please.” Mat groaned, “I could tell from the second you came to the game, he kept looking for you every chance he got, and the way you light up around him.” He trailed off, and you felt guilty, “Mat, I didn’t mean to lead you on, I wasn’t–“ “it’s ok, I knew it from the beginning, but I figured I’d give it a shot anyways.” He cut you off, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “you two have to figure it out, I’ve never seen him like this before.” Mat explained easily, standing once you got your card back and put it away. “Let’s just get you home.” He laughed under his breath when you shakily stood up, a mix of the alcohol and being seated for so long.

****

“Be right with you!” You called from around the wall, not bothering to look towards the front counter as you lugged the oversized bag of coffee grounds towards the front of the store. You huffed as you rounded the corner, nearly dropping the bag on your feet when you spotted Anthony and Mat standing there. “Oh.” You whispered, setting the bag on the counter, “hey.” You muttered, eyes bouncing between the two. “Hi.” Anthony mumbled, awkwardly shifting on his feet, Mat stayed silent watching the silent exchanges you were sharing. “I saw you moved on from Kylie.” You couldn’t help but speak, Mat nearly died trying to hide his shocked laughter, covering it up with a cough as he turned away. You held in a sigh when Tito only nodded, “yeah, I did.” He decided to speak, not sounding like a guy who was interested in her. You’d seen pictures online of him with this girl, not much better than Kylie, which quite honestly disgusted you. How a guy like him would go for a girl who clearly didn’t want anything real. Pushing those thoughts aside, you grabbed their usual orders, Anthony paid for both, and left a nice tip in the jar for you, which made you feel cheap, you knew he was simply apologizing in his own odd way. You pulled the money out of the jar and gave it back to him, he was astonished. He opened and closed his mouth looking for words, “Anthony, I really have to get back to work.” You sighed, looking to Mat for assistance, he shrugged, sipping on his coffee in amusement. “We’re going out to this bar tonight with some of the other guys, some of their wives will be there… if you want to come?” Mat offered.

Why you said yes was beyond your comprehension.

“I’ll be there.”

And there you were, owning your appearance, figuring, if you had to spend the night with the man you were so clearly falling for, and his best friend, you might as well get some attention from someone who wouldn’t deny their feelings.

The skinny jeans hugged your legs just right, giving your butt just a little boost, that paired with your white lace, off the shoulder top, made you look perfectly tan even this horrible bar lighting. You added a simple pair of strappy black heels, holding your clutch in one hand, hair laying curled behind your shoulders. And, of course, we can’t forget the bright red lipstick that—unknowing to you—was going to drive Anthony absolutely crazy all night.

“Y/N! You’re here!” Mat cheered, clearly a couple beers deep already, you laughed at his excitement, making your way over to him, you gave him a quick hug, his presence welcoming, you quickly came to learn that you could tell Mat anything and he would do his best to help you, he cared about you, even more so because his friend was falling for you, and falling hard. “Hi.” You waved to the two ladies, Sydney and Grace, you found out quickly, that they would also be shocked at Anthony and yours interesting connection. “Hey!” They greeted cheerily, all but whisking you off to their table, leaving the boys to be their slightly rowdy selves. “So, you and Tito.” Sydney wiggled her eyebrows, a smirk falling onto her face. You sighed, but you felt comfortable with them, so you started spilling everything.

From the moment you met, to the feeling when he walks into your apartment, the way your heart always skips a beat at the sight of him expertly making his way around. How his eyes still lit up every time you said you saved him a muffin from work, how he knew that after a long day, you didn’t want ice cream or chocolate, you wanted Cheetos. How you could feel him stealing glances at you right now, all the way up to how you’re beginning to think you’re falling in love with him after only two short months of knowing him.

“Oh my god!” Grace gasped, hands going to her heart, “that’s so sweet, Y/N.” She added, looking to Sydney who was sniffling, “hormones!” She defended, referring to her baby born a few months earlier. You chuckled at their reactions, suddenly searching the bar for Tito. You had been speaking for a while, and you knew how guys could be around each other, so when you saw Mat desperately searching for you, you couldn’t help but shoot to your feet. You excused yourself and weaved your way through the over crowded bar, appearing by his side in record time. “He’s hammered.” He whispered into your ear, chuckling when he himself almost tipped over. You caught Tito’s gaze, and instantly you could tell he was angry, about something, what it was, that you didn’t know. Or didn’t want to admit. “Wow there buddy.” You lightly pushed Mat into the barstool, “can he get a water, please?” You called to the bartender, he shot you a smile, you directed Mat to stay in the chair and drink the water when it came. “Yes mom.” He grumbled, lazily smiling, you sighed and made your way towards a spaced out, angry Anthony.

“Tito?” You spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes focusing on you, he stepped out of your gentle hold, knuckles white on the handle of the beer glass. “What, Y/N?” He snapped, you hadn’t pegged him as an angry drunk, but maybe you were wrong. “Don’t give me an attitude!” You snapped right back, he was taken back by your force, nodding slowly. “I’m coming over here to check on you, what’s got you in a mood?” You asked, shocked when he ignored you and motioned for another beer, which the bartender hesitantly gave him, shooting you a look that said he was about to be cut off. You sighed, a little too loudly as Anthony picked up the glass and brought it to his lips, he shot you a look. “What is it now?” He retorted, completely ignoring your earlier question, again. “I think you’ve had enough to drink.” You crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes for effect, “as if you would know, you’ve stayed away from me all night!” He muttered with a venomous tone. You’d only had a couple of drinks, so your mind was still fairly clear, but your emotions bubbled to the surface before you could stop them. Your eyes burned, you could feel the water reaching the brim, “I stayed away from you because I was letting you have fun with your friends, you didn’t come to me either, Anthony.” His eyes trained on your cherry red lips as you spoke, but he shook himself from the thoughts of kissing you as you spoke his true name with force. He met your gaze, and his anger faltered, but he was too far gone in alcohol to realize what he should be doing, he should be apologizing, he should already be your boyfriend, he should be telling you he loves you, but of course—that’s not what he did.

He chose to be silent, again.

“Right, nothing to say.” You whispered, and he didn’t miss how your voice broke, you shook your head looking to the ceiling, silently cursing yourself for being so dumb, for thinking he would ever be more than just a friend to you. “I’m going home, Anthony,” this time his name was like a faint whisper falling from your lips, “do you need me to call you an Uber?” You had to ask, you’d hate yourself if he didn’t get home safely. He shook his head, to full of his own drunk ego to do anything else. He watched as you went to say goodbye to Mat, patting him on the shoulder, silently thanking him for inviting you, he watched you wave to the other guys of the group, who had all welcomed you with open arms—you fit right in. Lastly, he watched you say goodbye to the ladies, who kept glancing over at him, muttering words to you that he couldn’t decipher in his hazy vision. Then, just like that, you were gone.

You had to have only been home for an hour, nearly asleep in your bed when you heard a knock on your door, your eyes shot to the time, 1:14am flashing back at you. Hesitantly, you stood to your feet, pulling a sweater on over your pajamas, hugging it tightly to your chest as you walked. You flicked the lights on, holding your phone in your hand as well, just in case. The knocking came again, with a heavy hand, which if we’re being honest, made your heart rate pick up, unsure of who was on the other side. You made it to the door and your breathing stopped for a moment when you looked through the peephole, Anthony standing there with a red face and wobbling stance. “Y/N, I don’t know if you’re there.” He slurred, “I need to talk to you.” He continued, getting cut off by a hiccup, you couldn’t let him go on in this state. You swung the door open, watching as his eyes widened, bloodshot, making them look even more blue. “Tito.” You sighed, helping him inside, his legs shaky as he walked. “I thought you would’ve been home by now.” You added, gasping when he nearly fell over, you held onto him tighter, getting him to your couch just in time for him to fall down. You rushed over to the front door, shutting and locking it before returning to him, you squatted in front of him, to meet his eyes. “I’m an idiot.” He whispered, almost as if he forgot it was you he was talking to. “No you’re not.” You murmured, resting a hand on his knee, his eyes landed on it, before moving to your face, slightly puffy eyes, making his heart wrench in his chest, he made you cry. He flickered his gaze to your lips, they were swollen and pink from you scrubbing the lipstick off, the whole time you had been doing that, you thought what an idiot you were for thinking it would pull him in.

“I am.” He said again, nodding as he blinked slowly, the effects of the alcohol kicking in. He was about to speak but you stopped him. “Anthony,” there it was again, the disappointment in your voice as you spoke, you might as well have stabbed him in the heart, “whatever you want to say, I think it should wait until tomorrow when you’re sober.” You explained, carefully pushing his jacket off his body, he watched in awe of your warm nature as you slipped off his shoes. “You can stay here, I’ll go get a pillow.” You whispered, to which he didn’t respond, the second you were gone, he laid on his stomach, one arm hanging off the couch as the tiredness overcame him. His eyes burned with drunken emotion, but he hadn’t realized as he knocked out in your living room that a single drop fell, staying in a pool under his eye. You rounded the corner, stopping in your tracks at the sight of him spread out on your couch, his soft snores filling the otherwise silent space. You made your way over to him, setting the pillow down on the side table, taking the blanket from the corner and moving to drape it over his back lightly. You tiptoed into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and a couple of Advil, placing them both on the coffee table in front of him, as you were placing them down you looked over and caught the single spot of wetness under his eye, now feeling like someone had stabbed you in the heart. You gently reach over, wiping it off with your thumb, sighing when he smiled softly in his sleep. Bending down, you left a light kiss to his cheek, “goodnight, Tito.”

***

Morning came much sooner than you’d like, after spending the whole night tossing and turning, crying once again, overwhelmed by the not knowing of what he wanted to tell you last night.

You woke when you heard a soft crash in the kitchen, “shit.” Tito whispered, you could tell he was trying to get a pan out, but you had them stacked in such a way that it was impossible to not make noise. You stayed silent in your bed, as if he could see through the wall. You listened as he muttered to himself, words you couldn’t quite decipher, the fridge opened and closed, the sound of your coffee pot being turned on. His feet made their way down the hall, you could tell he stopped outside your door, unsure of what to do, he decided against waking you, and you heard him step into the bathroom instead. A sigh fell from your lips as you climbed out of bed, you were still in your pajamas from last night, and the sweater still hanging over your frame, you decided that was good enough. You brushed out your hair and tied it up sloppily, a messy bun with your leftover curls. You caught a glance in your mirror, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time already, your eyes puffy, cheeks pink. Oh well, you thought as you stepped out into the hall, at the same time as Tito. “I didn’t wake you did I?” Was what he decided on, you shook your head staying silent, making your way into the bathroom, “oh.” He let out softly, a habit of yours he had picked up on, something he had started doing himself.

He was back in the kitchen when you came out, standing in front of the stove, flipping over the eggs in the pan, you slid past him to get to the coffee pot. “How’s your head?” You asked, the silence, for once with him, being awkward. “Not too bad.” He answered, smiling softly at you, you returned the gesture as you poured some creamer into your cup. The silence came back, neither of you speaking as he continued cooking, you pulled out some bread and made toast, trying to calm your mind as you thought of how you wanted to do this with him all the time. Something so domestic as cooking breakfast, but it was just the two of you, it was nice.

You placed two plates beside him, both with toast on them, he slid the eggs equally onto the dishes, staying silent as he slid the pan off the burner to cool off. “Thank you.” You mumbled, taking the plate and going to the small table you had, he only hummed in response, sitting adjacent to you. It stayed silent, the only noise being your forks hitting the plate, or coffee cups being set down.

When you finished, you stood, taking the plates, he didn’t protest as he looked lost in thought. Your mind raced as you turned the water on, squeezing dish soap onto the sponge. Was he ever going to say what he came here for? Could it possibly be what you thought it was? Certainly if it was that, he would’ve said it by now.

You hadn’t realized you had let the tears begin to fall until you heard him stand up from the chair abruptly, he was there, in three large steps. He stood beside you, keeping his eyes on you as he turned the water off, he silently pulled your hands from the dishes, letting them lightly fall into the sink, he grabbed the towel and dried your hands. You cried harder as he pulled you into his chest, one arm tightly around your back, his other hand cradling the back of your head. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He whispered after a while, he had begun to rub shapes into your back, noticing how it made your breathing slow slightly. You shook your head, pulling away from his grip, despite his best efforts to keep you flush against him. “What is this?” You asked, keeping your eyes on his, “I can’t keep doing this, why did you come last night?” You asked in more detail, crossing your arms over your chest. Anthony looked at you, trying to find the right words to say, but deep down he knew none of them would make up for how he treated you last night, or for how he had dragged this on for months now. “I came to apologize.” He muttered.

You went stiff as a board, of course it wasn’t what you had hoped for. “That’s all?” You questioned, looking up at him with desperate eyes. He nodded, “I shouldn’t have been so rude last night, you didn’t deserve it–“ “No, I didn’t.” You cut him off, anger rising in your chest, “Anthony, if that’s all you had to say, I really think you should leave.” You whimpered, voice cracking as you pushed past him.

Idiot, he thought to himself, why couldn’t he just say it.

Finally, his brain came to its senses and directed him towards you, he grabbed your hand, tugging you towards him, grabbing your waist to steady you when you crashed into him. Eyes filled with tears once more, he stayed silent as you stared at you. You let your eyes flutter shut as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting over yours, silently asking if this is what you wanted, when you didn’t pull away, he took that as a yes. He fully connected your lips, sighing into you, relief filling him when you reciprocated the action, your arms going around his neck, desperate to keep him close. He took a few steps forward, pressing you against the wall, his body flush against yours. When he pulled back, a soft whine fell from your lips, you opened your eyes to find him already looking at you. Eyes slightly wide, a smile working its way onto his face, “you need to say it, Tito. Please.” You whispered, resisting the urge to pull him in again. “I love you.” His voice was soft, gentle as he looked down at you. “I have ever since I walked into that cafe.” He added, you tugged him back into you, kissing him again, this time pouring emotion into it. The two of you moved in sync, in perfect time with each other, like you already knew everything about one another. Which in a way, you did.

“I love you.” You repeated back to him, pulling away just enough to speak, he nearly whined at your words, not realizing how badly he had needed to hear them. “I’m so sorry, I was so dumb, I couldn’t admit that I fell for you so quick. It scared me.” He whispered, his breath fanning over your face. “It scared me too.” You sighed, hiding your face in his neck. “You’ll just have to tell me all the time now.” You teased, making the both of you relax.

The feeling when he told you he loved you, that was something you’d never forget.

The feeling when he showed you, in all the little things, in all the physical ways, in all the ways he would look at you… it made it all worth the wait.

taglist: @starkeysdunn @kempe @mtkachuk @wtfkie @literarycharleton @starkeyseguin

#anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier #Anthony Beauvillier fic #imagine #imagines #requested #nhl writing #nhl new york islanders #the feeling when...

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch19. Cut Off One Head…

Summary: The Avengers have been tracking Hydra for a number of months now, systematically making their way through each base that their intel provides them…but a routine business trip turns out to be something far more sinister than Katie and Tony were planning for…

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, bad language, angst… 18+

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: The next few chapters take a bit of DARK turn…warnings will be detailed. @angrybirdcr provided a special banner for these next three chapters, and another wonderful edit...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 18

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

September 2014

“I’m not saying that I’m not open to the idea, I just don’t understand why you think we need to buy the firm.” Katie said for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. Tony glared at her and simply shook his head as he sat waiting in the reception area of the office block in Minnesota. “I’m not even gonna ask what you were doing that kept you up so late you clearly didn’t get enough sleep last night you cranky brat.” Katie rolled her eyes but she felt a small smirk pulling at her lips as she remembered very well the events of last night as Steve had quite frankly lost his shit at the fact she was wearing the new baby blue lace matching underwear set he had bought her just because he wanted to, but she caught herself. “Sleep or lack of, has nothing to do with it. I’m serious, Tony. We don’t need it”. “Investing” he said holding his finger up “building the brand. That’s what business is all about.” She groaned “Thanks for the lesson on running a business, you know, in case I didn’t know how to, but that is NOT the vision I have for SIP.” “Look, you said yourself when this proposal landed on your desk you were curious.” “I am!” She protested, and she was. From the research they had done, the company that had approached them, Hall General Publishers LTD, held the same ideas as SIP, except they focused on Biographies that were published in series magazines. They had reached out to SIP for a potential collaboration on a fiction series that they had been approached to run and felt it was out of their field, but they were keen to see if they could join forces. It had instantly caught Katie’s attention and imagination but as usual Tony had gone off on one and suggested they buy the smaller company out. “I’m curious about their proposal, and the potential to do business, collaborate yes, but not take over!” “Look, it’s a day out of the office, chance to forget about Tin Man and Hydra” Tony shrugged and Katie gave a groan of frustration again. “And their profits are pretty impressive. We can use them, keep their brand…” “Whatever.” She glanced around at the foyer. It was clinical, white, all clean lines. Nothing like the entrance to Stark, sorry Avengers Tower as it was now called .Mind you, that was to be expected from a ‘rent an office’. Eddie Hall, the MD of HGP had requested the meeting take place away from either of their offices to avoid anyone catching news of the potential collaboration and had arranged to hire a room at block some 10 miles outside of Saint Paul. Tony had shrugged when Katie questioned it, saying it wasn’t unusual for people to hire external meeting venues in order to keep things under the radar. “Miss Stark, Mr Stark, I’m so sorry,” the dark haired man hurrying across the foyer said. He was about 6 foot tall, slim, and was wearing a sharp black suit. Both Katie and Tony stood up, Tony extending a hand.

“Mr Hall I presume?”

“Yes.” The man said, shaking both their hands, his manner flustered. “Sorry to keep you waiting, I had to ensure the room was ready.”

“It’s only a few minutes.” Katie said smiled at him, “No apologies necessary.”

They followed him into the elevator and he selected the top floor and turned to the siblings

“Thank you for coming out here. I know the cloak and dagger thing is probably a bit much but I don’t want people getting wind of it. There’s a few changes coming at the company and I don’t want any of them making any assumptions…” “Understandable.” Tony sniffed, looking around the elevator.

They emerged onto the top floor, and he led them left down the corridor. Katie looked around, the whole place smelt of paint and there was decorating equipment dotted around. She frowned. “It’s a new office facility.” Hall explained, looking at her. “Owned by a friend of mine and they’re still kitting it all out. But he said this was the best room to use. It’s mocked up like a board room you see…” Katie nodded and shared a look with Tony, she was starting to feel ever so slightly uneasy. Tony just shook his head and patted his pocket where his trusty Iron gauntlet cuff sat. Neither of them had come with their suits, this was supposed to be a straight forward business meeting after all. But she took a deep breath, she was probably just being over sensitive after everything that had happened recently…

Hall stopped outside a door to the left and opened the room, revealing nothing but darkness. “Oh, sorry,” Hall let out a sigh of frustration, sweeping into the room. “Yes. Let me just… find the lights.” Tony looked at Katie, arching an eyebrow.

No window? He mouthed at her, his hand slipping into his pocket as they stepped into the room, Katie not quite sure they should be to be honest. “Yes. Here we go,” the man said brightly, flipping on the light and flooding the small room with light as the door slammed shut behind them.

That’s why it didn’t have a window. It was a fucking storage room. And it contained three men in dark suits standing before them, each with a rifle trained on their chests. Katie instantly stopped, drawing a deep breath of shock. Besides her she saw Tony in the corner of her eye quickly move to pull the cuff from the depth of his pocket, but he suddenly stumbled forward and fell immediately, the cuff flying out of his hand as the man they knew as Mr Hall stepped round them both and leaned against the wall to their right.

Katie spun round to see another man to the left and her eyes widened as she instantly recognised him.

“Grant?” She frowned, looking up at the face of her ex "What… what’s going on? "You know, I thought when you dumped all those files on the internet you might have actually read them.” He smirked, stepping forward and glancing down at Tony who had sat up and was watching him, his face contorted with hatred and rage. Katie swallowed as she took in his words before she shook her head as her eyes grew wide in sudden understanding.

“Heil HYDRA.” Ward’s smile spread further across his face.

The agents around the room started to close in. One of them, a larger built man who reminded her a little of Rumlow spoke in a deep voice.

“This is the one you say we need?” Ward nodded and at that point Tony slowly got to his feet, backing up, placing himself between his sister and the man who is advancing on her, the two of them backing towards the door.

“Need me for what?” Katie said, her voice soft as her back hit the wooden surface.

“Answers.” The large man said, looking bored at Tony’s display of protectiveness.

“About what?” She said, a bit louder this time.

“Well, you see Kay…” Ward smirked and Katie turned to her left to look at him as Tony emitted a low growl in his throat at the use of his old pet name for her, Ward chuckled before he started again “We’ve had a bit of a problem since you and your boyfriend, sorry fiancée, congratulations on that by the way.” He smiled, and she glared at him in response “Yes, ever since you took down SHIELD, we’ve been a little bit on the back foot, constantly watching our backs, trying to figure out where SHIELD or the Avengers are going to pop up next. So we figured, we needed a bit of inside intel.” The larger officer yanked Katie’s arm and pulled her out from between the door and Tony, flinging her into the middle of the room where another one of the agents grabbed her. Another one stepped quickly in front of her brother, blocking his path to her.

“Ok, stop…” Tony held his hands up, turning back to Ward and the other man. “If you want someone, take me. I’m more involved in the Avengers anyway…“

His voice was level but Katie could hear a level of desperation.

“Yeah, much as I’d love to take you in for a kicking Tony, the problem is she’s the only one of you who knows he’s alive and what he’s likely to be doing so…” “Knows who is alive?” Tony frowned as Katie swallowed thickly. Coulson, that’s the only person they could be talking about. But before she could say anything one of the agents butt Tony hard in the back of the head with the handle of his gun and he fell to the floor.

Katie yelled out and started towards him, but the Agent holding her tightened his grip on her arm to the point of it being painful.

“Now you’re gonna come with us, out of this building, quietly, no fuss and no escape attempts” The big man spoke to her “Otherwise Ward here is gonna put a bullet in your dearest bro’s head.” “And how do I know you’re not gonna do that anyway?” Katie whispered through her tears.

“Because it’s more trouble than its worth.” Ward shrugged. “And frankly, the thought of him alive, worrying about you is far more satisfying.” Katie glanced down at her brother, who was starting to push himself up, until Ward kicked him hard in the ribs and he collapsed, groaning, as Ward hit him on the back of the head again, knocking him out.

“Alright, alright!” She protested, her voice cracking. “I’ll come. Just leave him alone.” She was shoved harshly forward, her heeled feet slipping slightly as the door was pulled open. She stopped suddenly, turning to Ward. “You better watch your back .When Steve and the rest of the team finds out about this you’re a dead man.” Ward chuckled. “Quaking in my boots, Sugar.” She was shoved forward again, and managed one glance over her shoulder at Tony who was sprawled on the floor before she was shoved out of the room.

***** Tony groaned, as he pushed himself up slowly, the room spinning.

“Kiddo?” he croaked, as he looked around. He was alone, no sign of anyone. He scrambled across the floor, and tried the door which was locked, before he slumped heavily against it, his trembling hands started to feel his suit pockets. His phone was gone, of course, as was his cuff and Katie’s laptop. He lay his head back against the door as he started to piece together what had happened. It was an ambush, Ward…HYDRA…

Hydra had his sister. For information. About someone no one knew was alive? Were they referring to Fury? He ran his hand over his face again, and was just about to think about screaming in the vain hope they heard him on reception, but he stopped, suddenly. They hadn’t taken his watch.

Thick HYDRA bastards.

With shaky fingers he pressed the button at the side and the face lit up orange.

"Yes, sir?“ JARVIS spoke and Tony almost gave a sob of relief before he spoke a simple instruction, all he can think to blurt out before he gives into the throbbing in his head once more.

“Alert Captain Rogers. Send help.”

***** Steve was in the now finished training room with Thor. The pair of them were currently debating if the large room would stand up to them trying out a new move- Thor hitting Steve’s shield with his hammer to create the same wave it had done in the forest that time. It was useful, and Steve was thinking about perfecting it, seeing if it could be directed in anyway.

“What metal is it made from anyway?” Steve nodded to Mjolnir as Thor was throwing it up and down.

“It was forged from the heart of a dying star- Nidevalir…” Thor said, as Steve picked up his shield.

“It’s made from a star?”

“No, metal, which was forged by a star.” Thor corrected.

Steve was about to comment that he still hadn’t answered the question when a red light started flashing in the corner of the room, along with a low siren, and Jarvis’ voice cut across them.

“Captain Rogers, Mr Stark has just sent a distress signal.”

Steve instantly looked at Thor, swallowing slightly. “A distress…they were on a business trip. “I’ve no other details other than to alert you and send help.” There was a loud clap of thunder and Steve turned to see Thor was now clad in his armour and the God nodded at him as the two of them sprinted from the room. Steve’s mouth was dry and his mind was running overtime about what trouble they could possibly be in, but as they headed down the corridor to the armoury he found his voice.

“JARVIS, tell everyone to suit up and meet at the jet, now.” “Of course Captain. I’ve patched the location through to the jet.”

“I’m sure they will be fine.” Thor offered as some attempt at re-assurance. But as Steve shrugged on the top half of his uniform and grabbed his utility belt, he didn’t feel very re-assured.

Maria Hill met them in the hangar “I heard the signal, is everything ok?” “Tony and Katie…” Steve informed her. “They were at a business meeting but Tony just sent out a distress signal.” Maria looked at him and then nodded “I’ll start doing some digging into who they were meeting.”

He nodded, and strode up the ramp to the jet. They’d been in the air about 30 minutes when Maria patched through to them

“I don’t know who they were meeting but it isn’t Eddie Hill” she sighed “He was reported missing three days ago by his wife.”

“So whoever took them got to him first.” Nat looked at Steve. “Took him out, replaced him with an imposter”

“And it’s probably safe to assume he’s dead.” Steve said, flatly. “Hill, start doing some digging. Into Hall…anything that might help.”

“On it Cap.”

It took them approximately another ten minutes to get to the location JARVIS had programmed for them. And it felt like ten years. Ever since receiving the distress call the entire team had been on tenterhooks, Steve especially, remaining stoic and unyielding, although he felt anything but, knowing his girl could be in trouble.

The receptionists face was a picture when the Avengers, led by a focussed, stern looking Captain America stormed into the building and demanded to know what room the Starks were in. Tony heard them shouting on the corridor, Thor kicking over paint cans as he went, and he yelled, banging on the door.

“Stand back…” Steve’s voice was loud before he aimed a huge kick at the door, breaking it easily along with the frame which splintered out of the wall.

“Where’s Katie?” Steve asked, swallowing and looking round, almost as if he expected her to be hiding somewhere.

“They took her.” Tony said, pacing in front of him “I tried to stop them but…”

“Who?” Steve looked at him and Tony sighed, his eyes brimming “Tony, who took her?” Steve’s voice was desperate.

“HYDRA.” he bit out, and Steve felt his mouth drop open before he took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. “I don’t understand…“ Thor began, but Tony cut him off. “And you think I do?” he shouted at the God, his entire body trembling as he stopped pacing in front of him “I… we…” He stopped, unable to speak, his breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. Steve was too preoccupied to notice. He was simply staring down at the floor, his posture slumped as he removed his helmet which felt like it was suffocating him, his head kept replaying what Tony had told him.

HYDRA had her. They had her.

Banner grabbed Tony by the shoulders and gave him a single shake before he looked at him “Tony, focus on me, ok, keep breathing…”

Tony slumped to the floor and Banner knelt down with him. “How did this happen?” Steve’s voice was thick as he turned to look at him. Tony swallowed and Bruce squeezed his shoulder “It was a trap. The man, Hall. We came to meet him only Ward and…” “Ward?” Clint’s head snapped round at the sound of that name, frowning “Ward is Hydra?”

Tony nodded and Steve let out a lowly growl of frustration.

“They wanted her, said they needed inside intel. I told them to take me, I said, take me instead, but they wouldn’t, Ward said that she’s the only one who knows…knows that someone is alive and what he’s likely to be doing…”

At that Steve’s mind started whirring. Ward- she’d worked that last case with him and Coulson. She was the only Avenger that knew Coulson was alive, bar him, and no one knew she’d told him. Other than Fury that is.

“Who’s alive, who were they talking about?” Natasha frowned.

“I don’t know!” Tony bellowed.

“Maybe they meant Fury?” Banner suggested, looking up.

Steve’s voice was quiet as he looked up. “They mean Coulson.”

“What?” Tony wheeled round to face him “Coulson? He’s…he was killed, they buried him! We were at the funeral!” Steve shook his head before looking up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath “He’s alive. The last case Katie worked at SHIELD, the Asgardian staff case…” “The what?” Thor frowned, but Steve ignored him as he continued.

“It was Coulson’s team she worked with. Ward was part of it.” “And you didn’t think to tell us?” Clint frowned at Steve

“What good would it have done Barton?” Steve snapped, before once more his hands ran over his face. The room fell silent until Nat spoke again.

“Ok, so even if he is alive, that doesn’t explain why they think she knows something.” she pressed “What do they think she knows that’s so important they’d risk taking her?” Steve grit his teeth “I’ve no idea. But I bet Fury does.”

“I’ll get Hill to find him.” Natasha says, pulling out her phone and leaving the room.

“I need to get to back to New York to access everything.” Tony said, suddenly “Start searching our intel, anything…” “What about the media?” Bruce suddenly said. “Should we release her photo?” Tony looked up but before he could speak Steve answered.

"No. If we do that…” He shook his head. “The press’ll start digging and it could flush them further underground.” “Cap” Clint protested gently. “If we can get her picture out there, have more people on the lookout…”

Steve shook his head, a miserable yet stubborn pout pulling at his bottom lip. “No.” “We are in the dark here!” Barton snapped.

Steve turned on him, puffing out his chest. “There’s no way they did this and didn’t leave any sort of trail.”

“A trail? Jesus Cap, these bastards grew within SHIELD for over seventy fucking years and no one noticed!” Clint snapped

“I KNOW!” Steve roared.

Thor, who had been watching the exchange quietly up until that point stepped forward, placing his large hand on the Captain’s shoulder.

“I know it is hard, but you need to remain calm Captain.” he said. Steve looked up at him, giving him a nod, taking a deep breath. Thor turned to Barton “I agree that we should have everyone we can hunting for little Stark, but maybe not straight away. We should regroup, get as much information as we can.” Clint nodded. “I’ll go see if they have CCTV. Maybe we can identify who else was with Ward.” Steve nodded at him as he turned and left the room.

“I’m going to see if I can find anything outside.” Thor said “tracks, a trail…” he released his hold on the Captain leaving him in the room with just Bruce and Tony.

Bruce had both his hands on Tony’s shoulders as the man sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands. “I tried to stop them…” Tony sobbed, his head rocking back and forth “I tried, I really did.”

Steve said nothing. He couldn’t. Instead he stood impossibly still despite the ground feeling ready to crumble beneath him.

*****

Thor’s search drew a blank. So after quizzing the staff who were distraught when they realised what had happened, they took the CCTV footage and headed back to base. The jet was silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

Steve was trying to make connections. What was Coulson doing, and why did HYDRA, mistakenly, think Katie knew about it? Why had no one told them Ward was Hydra? There was no logic in any of this, other than the fact they were desperate, broken and desperate to take the one person they knew for sure had a link to the assumed dead agent. And as that thought echoed in his head, he realised Barton was right. If he had told the rest of the Avengers about Coulson, then maybe they would have taken anyone else. The fact that he found himself wishing it was one of the others instead of her made him feel slightly ashamed but he couldn’t help it. Suddenly, the jet became hot and he felt the bile rising in his throat. He spun up out of his chair and just made it to the small bathroom at the back of the jet before he threw up.

They arrived back at base just after 2 in the afternoon, and immediately went into overdrive, running facial recognition on the CCTV, Tony instructing Jarvis to sift through the files for any mention of Ward in the vain hope it would give them a clue as to where they might have taken her.

Steve was numb, for once he was failing to direct his team, so Clint took it upon himself to organise everyone, which he was grateful for. Suddenly he felt his phone ring, and he pulled it out of his pocket as fast as he could, a low grown of frustration coming from his throat when he saw it was Sam.

“Sam, I need to keep the line clear.” He answered, sharply.

“Woah, Cap…what’s going down?”

“Katie…” Steve stumbled over his words “She’s…she’s been taken, by HYDRA.” There was a pause and then the man spoke again, four words, before he hung up.

“I’m on my way.”

Steve slid his phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath. He needed to focus. He was no good to Katie like this. He glanced over at his team, locked eyes with Thor who gave him a nod, and he strode across to see if there was anything he could help with.

It was an hour or so before they made any decent progress.

"We got a positive ID on one of the Agents.” Hill said as she strode into the common room, handing Steve a file. He took it and glanced down, moving the surveillance photos they had extracted from the CCTV footage to one side, reading the information in it as Bruce continued. “Eric Jones. Ex SHIELD enforcer, clearly still active in Hydra. He worked out of one of the Canadian bases SHIELD had in Toronto, it fell when SHIELD did. We’re still running facial for the others, but I’ve told JARVIS to focus on the guy that Tony said was posing as Hall.” Steve nodded.

“We have a home address for Jones.” Hill added “But we’ve no idea if he’s been there recently or…” “We’ll check it out.” Nat stood up, patting Clint on his chest with the back of her hand. He nodded and stood up just as Steve spoke again.

“How did Ward know?” he looked up and turned to Tony “how did any of them know that you were gonna be there?”

Tony didn’t look away from the window as he replied "I don’t know. The company is real, we did all our research. They’re based in Saint Paul, not far from where we were.”

“So either Ward got wind of it and took it as an opportunity or Hall was in on it from the start.”

“If he was in on it then why kill him?” Thor asked gravely.

“Maybe they were worried he was going to blab.” Clint shrugged.

“When we’ve been to Jones’ we’ll head over there, see if we can dig anything up.” Clint looked at Steve who gave him a nod before JARVIS cut across them.

“Mr Stark. Director Fury and Agent Coulson are here.” “Send them up J.” Tony said, standing up.

Steve took a deep breath and looked at Clint and Natasha “You two wait and see what he has to say before you go. It might help.”

*****

The news Fury and Coulson gave was received as well as could be anticipated. Thor let out a loud growl, turning over his chair in anger whilst the rest of the group started to angrily chatter amongst themselves, all except Steve. He simply looked at Fury, then got up from his chair, the anger radiating from every inch of his body as he strode towards him, jaw clenching.

“Rogers…” he began but shut up immediately as the Captain’s fist connected with the former Director’s nose with a satisfying crack which rang around the now silent room. Fury stumbled backwards, falling to the floor, and he wiped at his face, eyeing the trickle of blood from his shattered nose as waved away Hill away who had stepped forwards to help him.

“Come on…” Thor patted Steve’s chest, “this isn’t helping anyone.”

“You knew?” Steve glared down at the director. “You knew they had the damned thing and didn’t think to tell any of us that you were tracking it?”

“It would have blown Coulson’s cover.” Fury staggered to his feet, wiping his nose. “What he is doing has to go under the radar…” “And because of that they took her.” Steve spat “Because Ward knows she knows he…”he pointed to Coulson “is alive, and because we worked with you to take them down, they think she knows something!”

“Let’s just break this down…” Tony sighed, rubbing his face “How did they get it? I thought the Sceptre was on Asgard?” Tony frowned, looking at Thor. “You took it with Loki.”

“No, I took the tesseract.” Thor said. “The sceptre was taken by err…not SHIELD, well a part of SHIELD but…”

“Why did you not tell us about this?” Clint snapped, his usual placid mannerisms now spiked with anger as he turned to Maria. “Why has it taken us raiding fuck knows how many bases, and Nova getting taken for us to find out?”

“Barton, The rubble of the Triskelion took ages to sort out, the other SHIELD strongholds had been obliterated or infiltrated at the same time” she explained “Hundreds if not thousands of things have gone missing. Files, hard drives, laptops, alien artefacts, security badges, flash drives… the list keeps growing. We didn’t know it was missing until recently!” “Recently? How recent?” “Last week.” She looked down and Steve gave a snort as Clint growled.

“You should have destroyed it.” Steve looked at Fury, “Just like everything else you had in that god-damned lab.”

“We couldn’t” Coulson looked at him, and then Steve gave a sarcastic laugh as he understood perfectly what the man was saying.

“Of course not, because you never had it in the first place did you?” “What, I thought…” Tony began but Natasha cut him off.

“Sitwell and STRIKE collected the sceptre. They were HYDRA, they’ve had it right from the start.“

The room fell silent bar silent and a large clap of thunder started outside, making them jump.

“Sorry.” Thor grumbled.

“Fuck this shit.” Clint suddenly spat out, “Nat come on, we got somewhere to be.” he turned to Steve “If we find anything we’ll let you know.” Steve nodded as the arched clapped him on the shoulder and he left.

Nat turned to him, as if she was going to say something, but she didn’t. She swallowed and gave him a nod, before hurrying after her friend. Steve looked down at the floor, which was once more spinning under his feet. Hydra would be trying to get information out of Katie that she simply didn’t have. And the thought of what they would be doing… one more he felt the bile rise in his stomach and he turned, rushing from the room and made it down the corridor to the rest rooms. He pushed open the door of a cubicle, and threw the contents of his stomach up before slumping to the floor, his knees tucked to his chest, and he let out a loud cry of frustration, anger, his chest constricting around him as the tears began to fall.

*****

Natasha and Clint’s re-con turned up something interesting.

“Nothing at Jones’ place, it looks like it hasn’t been lived in for months, however, when we spoke to the Deputy CEO who’s running the gaff in Hall’s absence, he recognised the guy posing as Hall.” Clint looked at him “Peter Jackson their head of IT. Ran his face through the system and turns out he’s also known as Gary Jepson, ex SHIELD technician.”

Steve ran his hand over his face, scratching the stubble on his chin as he glanced down at the photo. He hadn’t shaved since God knows when.

“So there’s our connection.” He breathed out and Natasha nodded

“Apparently he got the job a few months ago. Timeline tallies with when HYDRA fell. Apparently he and Mr Hall had a mutual love of American Football, they hit it off, used to go for beers at lunch occasionally”

Tony’s head hurt “I still don’t understand where Ward fits into this?”

“They both worked out of the Fridge.” Natasha said, “At the same time. They must know each other that way.”

“From what Coulson told us, Ward has been rallying round people he knew.” Clint spoke “And, this is all supposition, but if you ask me Jepson probably tried to go legit, melted into the background post SHIELD falling but when he gets a call from his old friend, who tells him they’re not as dead as they could he reaches out. And then when he hears about the potential deal with SIP…”

And then it clicked in Steve’s mind. .

“I don’t think he did hear about it.” He swallowed. “You just said he was their head of IT….” “He could have easily sent those emails from Hall’s account.” Tony gave a groan. “It was all a set up from the start.”

*****

It was the week before Christmas. He’d been home from university for 2 weeks and his Dad was already pissing him off. Tonight, both parents were out and Tony was babysitting. He should be out himself, he knew that, Rhodey had invited him to a party, but when Katie had turned those green eyes on him and told him she didn’t want the babysitter she wanted him to stay and ‘hang’ with her (yes, he was especially proud he’d taught his 5 year old sister the word hang) just like he used to before he went away, he’d melted and told his parents to cancel the sitter.

They’d played a board game- Snakes and Ladders. She won the tie breaker (even though he could have beaten her). They’d then watched The Snowman (well, it was nearly Christmas), Tony doing his best Choir boy impression to make her giggle, they’d had hot chocolate and marshmallows with a candy cane stuck out of the top (yes, he knew she wasn’t allowed it after 6pm but like he gave a shit) he’d then done the whole bedtime routine of supervising whilst she brushed her teeth, but she shoved him out of the room when she needed to pee. Then he’d read her a story, tucked her in well over an hour and a half after she was supposed to be in bed, and was now relaxing with a stolen glass of his dad’s scotch (cheers Dad) in front of Die Hard. He was about halfway through the film when he heard a small sniff in the hall and she padded into the living room clutching her Winnie the Pooh teddy.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Tony looked at his sister “I already let you stay up way later than Mom said you could!”

“Bad dream” she sobbed. With a little sigh, he opened his arms and she clambered onto his lap. “There’s a monster under my bed.”

“Nah, I killed it last week, remember?”

“It’s a new one.” She shook her head, looking at him.

“That so…right…” He stood up.“This calls for the Monster Killer…”

AKA the Vacuum.

Grabbing it, he marched up the stairs and plugged it in. Once it was on he dived under the bed “Get here you son of a…arrrgh…” He made a big deal of thumping the floor and yelling. Eventually he stilled and emerged, turning it off.

“Got it!”

Katie smiled and her hands went up in the air in celebration “My hero, Tones!” before she wrapped her small arms around his neck and he hugged her back.

“I’ll always protect you, Kiddo, what are big brothers for?” "Tony?” His entire body jumped as he looked up and realised it was Pepper. He shifted slightly and let out a small breath. ”Yeah?”

"It’s late.” She told him simply, but no unkindly. "Come back to bed.”

He shook his head and looked back down at the laptop on his knee.

“You have to get some sleep.” she sighed, crossing the room before she dropped onto the dark leather sofa besides him “I know it’s hard right now, but – “ "Hard?” he interrupted with a scoff, “Hard? Great description.”

Pepper ignored his jibe and sighed “You haven’t slept in days. We can’t take a step back to where we were after New York. You need to sleep.“

“I need to keep up with SIP.” he said, shaking his head. “She’s got so many potential authors and projects going…I mean, I can’t let her company crash…what do I tell them all anyway? What do I tell her work force?” “I had an email sent out from HR yesterday.” Pepper said

“Saying what?” Tony rounded on her.

“That she was on extended leave for the foreseeable.” Pepper said “In the meantime, they’re all reporting into Jenny Jones.” “Who the fuck is Jenny Jones?” Tony looked at her. Pepper took a deep breath.

“She’s the General Manager.” Pepper said “Katie hired her last week.”

He looked at Pepper before the tears sprung into his eyes “the foreseeable…” “I’m sorry.” Pepper says, “I didn’t know what to say.”

"The foreseeable, until they realise she doesn’t know anything…and they kill her too.” “You don’t know that,” Pepper said, and her voice for the first time trembled.

Tony looked at her for a moment, before he broke.

*****

The days bled into weeks. And nothing. They had identified every goddamned HYDRA agent on that CCTV footage now, but they had still found nothing. When Sam had arrived they’d gone back and re-raided every fucking Hydra base they could think of. Nothing. They were stabbing in the dark, and with every day that passed they knew the chances of them finding Katie were getting thinner and thinner.

Steve had a headache. A bad one. One that felt like it was going to split his head in two. He pressed the heel of his palm to the space between his eyes in a desperate attempt to quell the pain.

“Shit, steady on Cap…”

Steve looked up and stopped before he walked straight into Tony.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

“No.” Steve bit back, before he sighed “Sorry, headache…” He looked at his fiancé’s brother, the worry evident in Tony’s face as well. In fact, it seemed the pair of them now sported that expression constantly, and had done since Katie had gone missing just over 3 weeks ago.

“I thought you were going to get some sleep” Tony said as his eyes scanned down Steve’s body, taking in the fact he was in the same jeans and T-shirt he had been at their meeting last night. Another useless meeting.

He lets out a long breath. “Couldn’t.”

“Me neither.” Tony shook his head, shrugging “Kinda hard… “

“I know.” Steve nodded, looking at Tony.

"I just…I just keep thinking,” Tony swallowed. “I keep thinking about… how I could’ve avoided this. How I should have spotted it was a trap, how I couldn’t stop them taking her…” “This isn’t your fault Tony.” Steve shook his head, thankful that he could now say this honestly. At first he had been angry, angry that the man hadn’t been quicker or able to protect his sister, but that anger had fast dissipated. Without the Iron Man suit, Tony wasn’t a trained fighter. He was physically fit, yes, but not everyone had super serum coursing through their veins. The man was as broken as he was at her being gone, his sister, daughter even, gone, without a trace.

"I miss her,” Tony said, his soft words still cut harshly into the surrounding quiet. “I just… miss her.”

Steve dropped his gaze. He missed her, God did he miss her. They’d only been engaged, for what? Coming up three months when she was taken and were still in that excited phase of it. They hadn’t gotten down to any planning of any sorts, but that hadn’t stopped their late night, post love making discussions about it. Katie gently teasing him and stating all the things she was going to get, like doves, and fire eaters…utter bullshit of course, because she had no desire for any of that showy crap.

He missed her so much it hurt. Her laugh, her smile, the way she looked at him, her bantering with everyone in the common room, the way he would walk into a room where she was speaking with Natasha and the pair of them looked at him and broke into giggles making him paranoid, the way she kissed him, the way she felt, her hands running through his hair.

Tony cleared his throat harshly and Steve looked at him. “Me too Tony, me too.”

**** Chapter 20

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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