#jokes aside this is one of my favourite chapters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hivemuthur · 18 days ago

Text

What was that? - Ch. 6.

viktorxfemale!OFC mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 3,7K

tag: #what was that

summary: Renly has more than one breakthrough, or a couple of them actually, as some things are getting addressed. And Viktor is a cat, all the way through :')

author’s note: Beta reader: @rennethen + I might or might not have written Chappell Roan into this chapter lol. Reading it back after some time, I think this is still my favourite fic I've written.

Cross-posted on AO3

—

Later that week, Viktor found himself in the lab, working intently on a schematic when he overheard a familiar rustling from the couch. He glanced over, catching Renly with her nose buried in the same romance novel she’d been reading the day he found her napping. The image of her in that peaceful moment—the softness of her expression as she drifted into sleep—came back to him, reminding him how much has shifted between them.

He remembered the weight of their last fight—how it had left a rawness he couldn’t shake, a vulnerability he wasn’t accustomed to. Yet somehow, here in this shared quiet, the distance between them felt smaller, as though the edges of that wound had begun to blur. It seemed like the argument had faded into something distant, something they hadn’t properly addressed but no longer weighed as heavily.

Viktor pushed that thought aside as he caught sight of Renly, her lips quirking up slightly in amusement as she glanced up from her book.

"Still on that, I see," Viktor remarked, his voice laced with a teasing tone as he slid his glasses back up his nose. “I would have thought you’d be working on something more... productive.”

Renly looked up at him, an eyebrow arched. “You know, I was starting to think I was the only one who actually read,” she quipped before returning to her book. Her lips twitched again in amusement. “But I suppose when one is as brilliant as you, there’s no time for... distractions.”

“Distractions?” Viktor smirked, pushing himself away from the workbench and moving toward her. “Is that what you’re calling it? I always thought a good book was meant to enlighten one’s mind, not indulge in... fluff.”

Renly’s eyes sparkled as she closed the book, folding her hands over it. “Well, you might be right, but if all that’s in the air around here is Hextech and mechanical precision, I think I’m allowed to indulge once in a while,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. “Besides,” she added, with a sigh, “this is really the only place I get romance these days. No matter how hard I try to make sense of it elsewhere, it’s just—not happening.”

Viktor paused, her words catching him off guard. His gaze shifted briefly to the book, then back to her. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice a little more measured. He’d expected a joke or a defensive retort, but her quiet sincerity unsettled him.

It had been easy, until now, to bury his lingering discomfort about the fight and the... brace incident. Easy to ignore how it had made him feel vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. But Renly’s tone broke through the tension lingering between them, reminding him how unresolved that moment still was. He tried not to think too hard about it.

"And what exactly do you find in these pages that’s missing from your... other pursuits?"

Renly’s eyes softened for a moment as she met his gaze, her tone suddenly less teasing. “I think... sometimes we need reminders that affection isn’t just calculated strategy or cold theory,” she said, her voice quiet. "That there’s still room for things that don’t need to be rationalized."

Viktor blinked, the unexpected weight of her words sinking in. For a moment, he was left speechless, a warmth creeping up his neck as he processed what she was implying. She was talking about him—about them, wasn’t she? The thought unsettled him, but it also felt oddly comforting. It reminded him that, despite their unspoken tensions, something continued to bind them together.

He cleared his throat, recovering quickly. “I see. So the book serves as your... emotional outlet, I take it?”

“Something like that,” Renly responded with a shrug, her lips curving into a half-smile. “It’s not like I have time for anything else, you know? Sometimes a girl just needs a little fantasy.”

Viktor’s mind wandered, the quiet flicker of doubt giving way to something far less manageable. Did she see me as part of that fantasy? The question hung in the air, and his gaze lingered on Renly as she looked away, unaware of the way his thoughts had begun to shift. He couldn’t deny that his mind had a tendency to wander into unwanted territories, especially when it came to her.

There were moments when his thoughts would spiral out of his control, moments when her presence, her proximity, became an undeniable temptation.

The seemingly innocuous moment when she adjusted his brace had short-circuited his usual calm. The sensation of her touch lingered with him long after the incident, invading his thoughts when he was alone in the lab, when the hum of machinery filled the silence. It wasn’t the first time someone had touched him, but it was the first time it had felt... different. More real. Her warmth, her softness, had shaken him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

Then, there was the tattoo.

Viktor had never been one to delve too deeply into the pasts of others—he had enough of his own darkness to contend with—but that tattoo had piqued his curiosity, even as it stirred something in him that he couldn’t place. He had been so focused on her words during their conversations that he hadn’t noticed the tattoo until it was too late. A swirling design on her side, delicate but bold, a hint of rebellion in the ink that caught the light just right. It wasn’t just the design, though—it was the way her skin had felt beneath his gaze, the way the tattoo seemed to carry its own weight of meaning. His thoughts had lingered there, imagining the path of the ink as it spiralled across her skin, wondering what it would be like to trace those lines with his fingers. It felt intrusive, like something that wasn’t his to touch, but still, the thought had crept in uninvited.

And then, there were moments like this—when her laugh, her teasing remarks, the way she carried herself with such effortless grace, would cause his mind to wander yet again. His fantasies weren’t those of romantic idealism—no, they were something far more raw. Fantasies of touch and connection, fleeting moments where he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to not just be around her, but to be with her, in a way that went beyond the intellectual. Fantasies that he hated having, fantasies that he pushed away every time they surfaced, but that kept coming back. Her touch. Her laughter. Her presence.

He quickly shook his head, as if trying to physically dislodge the thoughts, but they lingered, unbidden. The warmth in her smile, the way she tilted her head when she spoke to him, as if she saw him, truly saw him, and for once, didn’t look away. It haunted him in a way he couldn’t shake. And no matter how hard he tried to focus, no matter how many times he pushed those thoughts back into the recesses of his mind, they always seemed to resurface, much like the quiet ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

“Well,” he said finally, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I suppose we all need our... distractions.”

But even as the words left his mouth, a flicker of doubt gnawed at him. What exactly had she meant by that? Was she... hinting at something? The thought stayed with him as he watched her, uncertain but curious—wondering if, just maybe, there was more to these moments between them than he had allowed himself to believe.

Renly leaned back on the couch, book still resting idly on her lap, though her focus had shifted entirely. Her eyes wandered to Viktor, who had returned to his workbench. The teasing exchange they'd just had lingered in her mind, replaying in fragments. She tried to analyse it—to find the line where their banter ended, and something deeper began. Did he mean it when he said he’d thought about her emotional outlets? Or was it just another layer of the dry humour he wielded so expertly?

She frowned slightly. Viktor wasn’t someone who flirted lightly. Every word he spoke was intentional, precise—like the movements of his hands now, deftly sketching something onto the schematic in front of him. His posture was hunched but relaxed, one leg tucked under the stool while his cane leaned haphazardly against the table. She was struck, not for the first time, by how at ease he seemed in his element, surrounded by the hum of machinery and the glow of the Hextech crystals.

Her train of thought began to shift, drifting away from the conversation and into something... else. Her gaze lingered on him, not out of curiosity this time but with something more intense. There was a sharpness to Viktor, a deliberate precision to the way he moved, but beneath it, she noticed the softness he tried to hide. His hands, long and deft, moved with practiced confidence, whether gripping a tool or brushing his hair back from his face. She’d seen those hands up close when he’d adjusted a piece of equipment for her last week, and now, she kept thinking about them in a different context—how they might feel against her skin.

Her lips parted slightly at the thought, a warmth creeping into her cheeks, and she shifted on the couch, trying to redirect her focus. But her gaze kept returning to him, drawn to the way the light hit his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, and the determined set of his mouth.

When did I start noticing these things? she thought to herself, suddenly unnerved by how natural it felt to watch him like this. She hadn’t paid much attention before—at least, not consciously. Viktor was Viktor, the brilliant, razor-sharp mind who seemed untouchable in his focus. And yet, now, all she could see was the stray lock of hair falling across his forehead, the faint flush along his neck when the heat in the lab got to him. The way his eyes narrowed in concentration, glinting gold in the artificial light.

He was... dreamy. Why of course, she had that thought before. A thought she had quickly chased away, back when the distance between them felt like it could wrap around the earth twice over. The realization hit her like a jolt—not in a conventional way, perhaps. There was nothing polished or overly refined about him. But there was something striking, something magnetic, in the way he carried himself, the way his intellect poured into every motion, every decision he made. His presence filled the space effortlessly, as though the room itself bent to accommodate him.

Her gaze trailed lower, taking in the lean lines of his frame. He wasn’t built like someone who spent their days in a lab; there was a wiry strength to him, a quiet power that belied his otherwise bookish demeanour. She recalled the moments when they’d stood closer than they probably should have—how his voice seemed to drop an octave in those moments, how his presence seemed to expand, leaving her breathless.

She quickly tore her gaze away, a flicker of embarrassment rising in her chest. What am I doing? This wasn’t like her, to get so caught up in her thoughts about someone—especially someone like Viktor, who seemed so far removed from such frivolous things. And yet, the heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.

Was he flirting with me earlier? The question looped in her mind. Viktor wasn’t the type to flirt—not overtly, at least—but there had been something in his tone, the way his eyes lingered on her just a second too long. Was it all in her head? Or was there something unspoken lingering between them?

“Do I have ink on me, or something?” Viktor’s voice violently ripped her out of her thoughts. He wasn’t even looking in her direction.

“What? No, I—” She blinked, the realization of her own words being used against her washing over her. “Oh, that’s very nice. Is this your way of saying I’ll die by my own sword one day?”

“Well, not necessarily,” Viktor replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I am merely protecting myself from your stare burning a hole in the back of my head. Is there something you want to talk about?” The joke lingered under his smile.

“Actually, Viktor, about earlier—” She paused, trying to measure if her attempt was worth it. Things had been better between them lately, but she didn’t like leaving misunderstandings to fester. She could just apologize for being so harsh with him about Singed.

“Any particular ‘earlier’? Or are we addressing everything that ever happened prior to this stimulating conversation?” Viktor turned on his chair to face her, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Oh, screw you, were the first words that tried to push themselves out of her mouth, but she decided to act like an adult. “I’m sorry about what I said, about Singed. I was quick to judge—I shouldn’t have been. I also have done things that, if I’d had a choice, I would have done differently.”

Viktor steadied himself, resting his hands, fingers entwined, on his knees. “It is fine. I am sorry about my reaction as well. It wasn’t about you; my past is something I revisit with reserve. I appreciate your apology and accept it.” His words came out more formal than he’d intended.

“Alright. I’d better get to doing something productive,” she said with a smile, pushing herself up from the couch.

***

Renly adjusted the focus on the microscope, her movements careful, almost reverent. Beneath the lens, the sample swirled with a faint, eerie shimmer, as if the cure itself carried some cruel sense of beauty. She leaned closer, her breath catching as she watched the tiny particles disintegrate. First, the infected cells broke apart, their jagged edges dissolving into nothingness. But then, the healthy cells followed—a slow, agonizing evaporation that made her stomach twist.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it happen. Every trial ended the same way: destruction indiscriminately sweeping through, leaving behind nothing but an empty slide and a hollow ache in her chest. But today, it felt different. More personal. She couldn’t shake the thought of Viktor—his cells, his essence—being obliterated under her gaze.

Her hand hovered over the microscope, hesitating to adjust the focus again. The magnified particles seemed so small, so insignificant, and yet they carried the weight of everything she’d been working toward. How many of these trials would she need to run? How many times would she have to watch Viktor evaporate, piece by microscopic piece, before she found something that worked?

A part of her wanted to pull away, to stop looking altogether. But another part of her—the stubborn, determined part—kept her rooted in place. She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t. Not when he had already placed so much faith in her. Not when the stakes were so high.

The silence was interrupted by the sharp, rattling sound of Viktor’s cough echoing from the adjoining room. Renly froze mid-note, her pen hovering above the page, before she bolted to her feet. Her heart pounded as she rushed to the doorway, finding Viktor leaning heavily on his cane, one hand braced on the edge of his desk, the other clutching his chest.

“Viktor!” she called, her voice tight with urgency. She was at his side in an instant. “What do you need? Water? Medicine?”

He shook his head, struggling to catch his breath. “No… it—” Another violent cough cut him off, and she saw faint specks of blood on his palm when he lowered his hand.

Her jaw tightened, a flicker of anger bubbling beneath the surface—not at him, but at herself. She should��ve been further along by now. This shouldn’t still be happening. “You’re coughing up blood,” she said, her voice quieter but taut with frustration.

He managed a weak smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, well… this is not new. Though I believe…” He paused to draw a shuddering breath. “This may be your… opportunity for that sample you mentioned.”

Renly winced at his attempt to make light of the situation but quickly shook off her hesitation. “Forget the sample for now. You need to sit down.”

She guided him to a chair, her hands firm but careful. Once he was seated, she massaged his chest and back with her fists, wiping the drop of blood from his lip with her thumb. She crouched in front of him, gripping the armrests of the chair as though steadying herself. Viktor leaned back, his face pale and drawn, but the intensity in his golden eyes hadn’t dimmed.

Without thinking, she reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing against the sharp line of his cheekbone. His skin was warm beneath her fingers, and his breath hitched slightly at the contact.

“Viktor…” she murmured, her voice thick with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. Her thumb traced the curve of his jaw, her touch tentative yet unhurried, as though committing his features to memory. “You know, it’s terribly unfair for you to look this good when you’re giving me so much grief.”

Her words slipped out unfiltered, her focus entirely on him, and they startled a quiet laugh from him—a breathless, disbelieving sound that softened the tension.

“Is that your way of complimenting me?” he asked, his voice low but tinged with dry amusement.

Renly blinked, realizing what she’d said, and a faint blush crept up her neck. Still, she smiled, refusing to pull away. “I’m just stating facts. Sharp cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass… It’s distracting, really. Hard to stay mad at someone who looks like they stepped out of a portrait.” She tried to deflect how much this scared her, keeping her tone light.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, though a flicker of vulnerability crossed his gaze. “And here I thought you were angry with me.”

“I am,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “But not for the reasons you think—not with you. I’m angry because I haven’t solved this yet. Because you’re still suffering, and I—” She stopped herself, her grip on his face tightening for a brief moment before she let her hand fall away. “I hate that this is happening to you.”

He hesitated, his own hand rising as if to catch hers, but it stopped just short. “Renly,” he said quietly, “this is not your fault. You are doing everything you can.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. The movement startled him, and he froze for a moment before his arms came up tentatively to return the embrace.

The hug deepened, his grip tightening as though afraid to let go. She pressed her face against his shoulder, breathing him in. It wasn’t like her to express herself so openly, and she could feel her pulse racing, but she didn’t care. For once, she let herself feel everything.

For Viktor, the closeness was both grounding and terrifying. He rarely allowed himself such vulnerability, and yet, holding her like this felt like an anchor in the storm of his failing body.

When they finally pulled apart, she caught his gaze and placed her hand on his cheek again, her thumb brushing lightly over his temple. “You’re not weak, Viktor,” she said softly, her voice firm and resolute. “Not in the ways that matter.”

He looked at her, something raw flickering in his eyes, and shook his head faintly. “You are… persistent,” he murmured, his tone laced with reluctant affection.

“And you’re infuriating,” she shot back, her voice breaking into a small laugh.

They lingered like that for a moment, tension between them laced with something unspoken before Viktor cleared his throat and gestured to the bloodied handkerchief. “Shall we get this over with?”

Renly nodded, her resolve hardening once more as she retrieved a sample vial. She worked carefully, silently, though her touch lingered on his hand just a moment too long before she took the sample.

When she was done, she met his gaze again, her voice quiet but steady. “I won’t stop. I’ll figure this out.”

He studied her for a long moment before nodding, his expression unreadable but softened by the faintest hint of a smile. “I have no doubt of that.”

***

After some tea and a bit of rest, they both returned to their abandoned work. Renly moved to her workstation in the main lab, choosing a spot where she could keep an eye on Viktor. She kept glancing over, watching for any signs of discomfort. Unfortunately, her frequent attention seemed to make him uncomfortable.

“Anyone alive in this tomb?” Jayce’s voice echoed through the silence, cutting through the stillness. “Why are you guys so quiet?”

“Why, hello, Mr. Tallis! And where, pray tell, have you been while we, your humble lab partners, slaved away relentlessly?” Renly responded without missing a beat, her tone teasing. She had already decided not to mention Viktor’s coughing fit; Viktor wouldn’t appreciate the concern being shared.

“Yes, I’m starting to think your contribution to the project will soon be reduced to just a name on the title page, Mr. Medarda,” Viktor quipped, his smirk drawing a hearty laugh from Jayce.

“Alright, alright, I surrender! But for your information, I haven’t been with Mel,” Jayce declared, grinning broadly as if anticipating their scepticism. “I’ve actually secured us some time at the fundraising gala. Got to keep this venture afloat, right?”

Renly let out an impressed whistle, while Viktor responded with a low grunt.

“You okay there?” Jayce asked, his expression softening as he placed a hand on Viktor’s back in a gesture of quiet concern.

“Yes, just a minor… inconvenience. I’ll be fine,” Viktor replied, his voice quieter now. “I’m wrapping up and heading home soon.”

The three of them eventually settled into their own corners of the lab, the scratch of pens filling the silence. Renly, as was her habit when lost in thought, began humming softly under her breath. The melody was lilting, meandering through the air like a breeze stirring dust motes.

Jayce perked up at the sound, his ears catching the tune. “Is that… The Ballad of Barrows Bay?” he asked, glancing up from his notes.

Renly shrugged; her eyes still fixed on her work. “Could be. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Well, now I am!” Jayce declared with exaggerated enthusiasm. He leaned back in his chair, tapped a beat on the table, and joined in with gusto, his voice deep and theatrical.

Renly’s lips quirked into a grin, and she matched his energy, the two of them harmonizing in the most haphazard way possible. Jayce’s booming voice drowned out Renly’s lighter tones at points, but their laughter wove through the song like a second melody.

At first, Viktor simply sighed, attempting to ignore the impromptu performance. He adjusted a component on his desk and turned his focus back to the schematics, but Renly’s infectious laughter tugged at the corners of his concentration. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the growing irritation gnawing at him.

It wasn’t just the noise. It was the day. The heaviness of it, the vulnerability he’d let slip twice today—more than twice if he counted the look in her eyes when she had brushed his cheek. It all churned inside him, rising with every mismatched note.

Finally, Viktor’s patience snapped.

“I believe this lab was designed for innovation,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through their chorus. “Not… whatever this is.”

Jayce’s hands froze mid-air, and Renly stopped mid-laugh, their gazes swinging to him.

“Alright, grumpy,” Jayce said with a chuckle, raising his hands in surrender. “We’ll keep it down.”

But Viktor was already standing, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back. “I am done for today,” he announced curtly, his cane striking the ground with more force than usual as he moved toward the door.

“Viktor, wait!” she called out, her voice sharp with surprise and a tinge of frustration. She caught up to him in the hallway, blocking his path.

He stopped, looking at her with a sharp, unreadable expression. “What is it, Renly?” His tone was colder now, clipped, and she could hear the annoyance bubbling beneath it.

Renly crossed her arms over her chest, her lips curling into a frown. “What was that back there?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion. “It was just a silly song, Viktor. Why did you get so—”

“I don’t like distractions,” he snapped, cutting her off, his words sharp. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “You’re distracting, Renly. That’s all.”

She froze, her brow furrowing as his words hit her harder than she expected. Distracting? She opened her mouth, but for a moment, she couldn’t find the right words. She’d never expected Viktor to be so blunt.

Viktor hesitated, gripping the frame of the door as if to steady himself. His voice softened, but only slightly. “This day has been…” He trailed off, shaking his head before finishing simply, “Too much.”

There was a brief, tense silence, and Renly felt her chest tighten. His words stung a little, she didn’t know why.

“Look, I just—” she started, but Viktor’s gaze hardened, and for a moment, Renly thought he might say something else to push her away.

Instead, his voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “I don’t like it when you… make it hard to concentrate.” His eyes were cast down now, his face still tight with frustration. “I don’t like how you make me feel when you’re close.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before he realized what he’d said. Renly stood frozen; her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t what he meant to say, and yet, he couldn’t take it back now. His chest tightened, and he looked up at her, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

“You are—” he began, but he didn’t finish.

Renly swallowed, her thoughts a jumble as she processed what he’d just confessed. He’d never spoken to her like that before. It wasn’t just about the song; it wasn’t just about her distracting him from work or how difficult this day had been. It was something more.

Her tension melted away, replaced by a deep, almost confused longing. “Viktor,” she said softly, the anger from earlier slipping from her voice. “I didn’t mean to... but I didn’t know I made you feel like that.”

For a long moment, Viktor didn’t speak. The space between them was thick with tension. He took a deep breath, turning away to avoid looking her in the eye.

“Maybe you should go back to work,” he muttered, his voice rough with the emotion he hadn’t meant to show.

Renly froze, her heart sinking at the weariness in his voice.

He left before she could find the words to respond, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Renly stood there for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line, before turning back to the lab. Jayce gave her a questioning look, but she waved him off and returned to her station, though her focus was clearly elsewhere.

***

Back at his apartment, Viktor let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his chair. The quiet of his space felt like a balm after the chaos of the day, but his mind refused to quiet. His gaze flickered over the desk in front of him, and his brow furrowed.

His notes.

He’d left them at the lab.

Viktor groaned softly, running a hand over his face before forcing himself to his feet. He couldn’t leave it there overnight; he meant to transcribe the remaining text today. Pulling on his coat, he stepped back into the cold night, the streets empty save for the faint echo of his cane against the cobblestones.

When he returned to the lab, he found Jayce’s coat already gone from its usual spot. Viktor sighed, relieved that Jayce had called it a night. As for Renly, he presumed she had left as well.

Yet as he stepped farther into the room, the faint sound of a melody reached him.

At first, he thought it was his imagination—just an echo of the earlier chaos lingering in his mind. But then he caught it again, softer, drifting through the still air like a whispered confession.

And then he heard her voice.

Renly sat by the microscope, the dim light casting her in shadow. Her elbows rested on the desk; her posture relaxed as if lost in her own little world. Her voice, quiet but hauntingly steady, carried through the room, wrapping around him like a thread pulling him closer.

"Do you picture me like I picture you? Am I in the frame from your point of view?"

She was completely unaware, her attention lost in the song, her eyes closed as if the weight of the words themselves carried her somewhere else.

"Do you feel the same? I'm too scared to say half of the things I do when I picture you.”

Viktor couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The way she sang—so unapologetically open, yet effortlessly composed—felt like a wound he hadn’t known existed, one he didn’t know how to protect himself from.

"Draw the blinds, light every candle. Slip off my pretty dress down my chest when I think of you."

He swallowed hard, his heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. He’d heard her hum, heard her laugh, even sing out of jest. But this? This was a side of her he hadn't seen before.

"Every night, both lips on the mirror. It's ritualistic, counting lipstick stains where you should be.”

Her voice dipped, just slightly, on the words where you should be, and it struck him like a misplaced gear grinding in an otherwise perfect mechanism. There was nothing deliberate in the way she sang—no effort to perform or impress. It was raw. Effortless.

Viktor’s grip tightened on the doorframe as he watched her, as if anchoring himself there might help him weather whatever storm was unravelling inside him.

The song lingered in the air long after the last note faded, and Viktor, still rooted to the spot, finally took a breath.

Renly shifted, oblivious to his presence, and for a long, unbearable second, he stayed frozen in the doorway. He had seen many sides of her—strong, witty, sharp—but this... this side of Renly was a quiet storm. One he wasn’t sure he knew how to weather.

When the silence stretched too long, he turned on his heel, moving quietly toward the door, his heartbeat rushing in his ears. He hadn’t meant to overhear, hadn’t planned on intruding on something so... intimate. But now, there was no ignoring it. He had to leave, to breathe again.

Just as he reached the door, Renly's voice floated out behind him, a soft whisper of confusion.

“Viktor?”

He paused for a split second, his back still turned to her, his hand gripping the doorframe.

Her voice came again, hesitant but searching. “Why are you here?”

For a moment, Viktor considered walking away without answering, leaving her to piece together the moment on her own. But something in her tone—the same unguarded sincerity she’d let loose in her song—held him there.

“I... nothing,” he said, his voice carefully controlled. “Carry on.”

He left, shutting the door behind him with a soft click, but the song still lingered in his mind, winding its way through his thoughts long after he’d left the lab.

And though he never turned back, the weight of her voice—the way she sang those words—stayed with him. Something tender, something fragile, had slipped into the cracks of his armour, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the sound of it.

The distraction kept Renly from immediately seeing what was in front of her. She stepped away from the microscope and lingered in the corridor for a little while longer after Viktor left. This man is impossible.

She returned to her station, adjusted the focus of the lens, and hesitated. Wait... what? She spoke aloud about her issue with the cure. Jayce, ever the brainstormer, gave her an idea using metaphors.

“What do you do during a war? You don’t just drop a bomb and step in, do you? You target.”

“Hmm… how do I make it target one thing and not the other, though?” Renly thought aloud as Jayce packed up to leave.

“Look for patterns. And then differences. I can help you tomorrow, would you like that?” Jayce offered lightly.

“Definitely,” she responded, her mind already elsewhere. “I’ll sit with it a little longer, you go ahead,” she finally told him, answering the silent question of whether he should wait for her to pack up as well.

“As you wish! But don’t stay too long,” Jayce shot her another beaming smile. “Oh, and Viktor… don’t dwell on it too much. He’ll come around.”

Holy shit. It worked. It actually worked. Jayce was indeed smarter than her. Well, now she couldn’t go anywhere.

Renly stood still for a moment, staring at the cure under the microscope, her thoughts drifting in several directions at once. Viktor's presence, his absence, his words—they all swirled inside her, mixing with the persistent problem at hand. She couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them today. Something... real. And it unnerved her.

And then there was Jayce, unexpectedly offering the perfect metaphor to crack the problem open, his words like a key to a door she hadn’t known was locked. She felt a small spark of hope as she revisited the idea he’d suggested, trying to see it through a new lens. The cure wasn't finished, but for the first time in days, she felt like she might actually have a breakthrough.

But that didn’t mean she was okay. She hadn’t been okay since she heard Viktor’s voice crack in their damned lab, and she certainly wasn’t okay now.

Her hand hovered over the sample vial, but her gaze lingered on the door, her thoughts circling back to Viktor. She wanted to fix this—him, the cure, everything. She wasn’t sure where her focus should lie: on her work, or on him. Maybe that was the problem. She couldn’t keep putting herself in a position where she was always one step away from making things worse.

The sound of her own heartbeat filled the silence of the lab, and for a moment, she just let herself sit with it, the quiet after Viktor’s departure stretching long.

As she sat down again, pulling the papers closer, a sudden thought hit her. Maybe there wasn’t always a right answer. Maybe she couldn’t save Viktor from himself. But she could keep trying. She would keep trying.

Her hand steadied, the pen in her grip as determined as ever.

The lab felt colder now, even with the warm light overhead. But she didn’t let it bother her. She would stay until she figured this out. After all, she had never been one to back down from a challenge.

She looked at the clock. It was late, and she knew she needed rest, but there was no room for that. Not tonight. Not when Viktor’s words still clung to her thoughts. Not when she could almost hear the weight of his silence at the door. She pushed it aside and leaned into her work.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #what was that

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sorrowsofsilence · 1 year ago

Text

Burning Out • IV

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 4.4k

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Four- Show my Thorns (EDITED: 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

My own words stung as they reminded me of my past felonies, but I supposed she truly was my favourite victim. If it wasn't too messed up to say something like that.

"Will I see you for your usual coffee?" She asked, hope seeping through her eyes. How could she want to see me again?

"Yeah," I replied with a forced laugh, lying through each breath. "See you then."

I stepped out of the car and turned to wave before opening the door to the motel room. My heart ached as Y/N drove away.

Goodbye.

Tell me that I'm wrong Tell me that I'm wrong

+++++

NOAH

As soon as I stepped inside, Ruffilo pulled me into a tight hug that almost crushed my bones.

"I was so worried, bro," he exclaimed, his worry now replaced with relief.

"Who was in the car?" Folio asked, peering out the window before quickly shutting the curtain.

"It's a long story," I groaned, collapsing onto the cot once more.

"I don't care about the story," Jolly interjected angrily. "What did you manage to steal?"

"Nothing," I admitted, cowering under their disappointed stares.

"You were gone for that long and came back empty-handed?" Folio said, his disappointment palpable.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Jolly laughed. "I thought you were over your little episode from earlier."

I sat up and looked at each of them in turn. "Trust me, I had a great haul. Until I got caught."

"You didn't," Ruffilo deadpanned.

"It's fine, she won't say anything," I reassured them, taking off my shoes.

"What? So now you trust some random girl who caught you breaking into her house? How desperate are you?" Jolly growled. "We're screwed."

"She drove you home too? Now she knows where we live? You idiot!" Folio yelled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"What was in the haul?" Ruffilo asked curiously.

Sighing heavily, I mumbled into my hands, "Almost full bottles of Diazepam, Adderall, Zolpidem, and Dextromethorphan."

All three of them groaned in frustration.

"Dude, that's worth thousands of dollars!" Folio exclaimed. "You should go back and get it if you're all buddy-buddy with her now."

My glare could have killed me as I shot daggers at the youngest member of our group. "Fuck off. It's not going to happen."

"No, Nick has a point," Jolly chimed in. "That's a good haul. We could use the extra money right now."

"I said," I growled through gritted teeth, "It's not going to happen."

I stormed off towards the bathroom door and slammed it shut behind me. Leaning against the door, I let out a frustrated groan and ran my hands through my hair. My mind was conflicted and confused, unable to believe that this day was even real.

I turned the shower on, and stripped off my clothes, letting the water wash away my sins.

I can't forgive you, but I can't look away I walked through fire I was born in the flames

+++++

Y/N

As I climbed the stairs to my house, Juice followed close behind. A sigh of frustration escaped my lips as I tried to make sense of the events of the day. My confusion only increased when I saw a backpack sitting in front of my bedroom door, its contents shifting with each step I took. I couldn't resist the urge to investigate and opened the bag, revealing all of my prescription pill bottles inside. My heart raced as I stared at them, unsure if they had been intentionally left there or if he had planned to sell them for money. But with only four hours until I had to be at work, I pushed those thoughts aside and prioritized sleep over worrying about it.

+++++

As I worked that morning my mind was consumed with the events of last night, replaying over and over again in my head like a broken record. Was it lack of sleep, anxiety, or the intoxicating presence of Noah that kept me on edge? Annika noticed my restlessness and questioned me, but I brushed her concerns off with a forced smile and a lie about being tired.

Despite my rational thoughts telling me otherwise, my heart yearned for Noah. There was something about him that drew me in, despite his criminal lifestyle. He was unlike anyone I had ever met before.

Throughout the day, I found myself constantly glancing at the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of him walking in. But he never did.

It wasn't until half an hour before closing time that the familiar ding of the doorbell sounded, causing my heart to leap in anticipation. I turned around, hoping to see Noah's long hair and captivating silver eyes, but instead was greeted by another man with long locks and tattoos covering his arms. His onyx hair and striking silver eyes held a similar intensity to Noah's, but there was something different about him.

My thoughts immediately went back to Noah as this new man ordered the same coffee as him - one cream and one sugar. As he handed me the change, I couldn't help but notice the intricate tattoos adorning his knuckles. My hands trembled slightly as I handed him his cup, taking in the words etched above each finger: "Bad Omen" spelled out above a crescent moon design.

We locked eyes for a moment, a sense of understanding passing between us as I handed him his drink. Despite his similarities to Noah, this man seemed completely different - yet my mind kept going back to those piercing October eyes.

Can one of us be saved? Better in a grave

+++++

NOAH

"Does she know about the tattoo?" Nicholas asked as he handed me a cup of coffee. I adjusted my sunglasses while taking a sip, the warm liquid soothing my throat as I thought of her again. I had told her the truth when she asked, but now I regretted it. It would have been better if we had just gone our separate ways.

After my shower, I filled Ruffilo in on everything that had happened with Y/N. He always understood me and listened to me best, even though he was surprised by how things turned out.

"She seemed so hopeful when she turned around," Ruffilo said, shoving his hands into his jean pockets as we walked back to the motel. "I think she wanted me to be you."

"I don't understand why," I said.

"Because you're not a bad person. She can see through whatever walls you've put up. You two were interested in each other before last night because you went out," Nicholas sighed. "And the fact that she still seems interested after everything means two things -"

I gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to continue.

"- Either she's crazy, or she sees past your past because she gets it," Nicholas reassured me. And he was right. Y/N could understand certain aspects because she had just escaped from her own cage; but was I ready to risk everything to see her again? Was there a chance that she could forgive me?

Ruffilo glanced at his watch, "We need to hurry back. Jolly and Folio will be here in ten minutes to pick us up and we still need to meet with D to drop off the load."

I nodded, picking up the pace and taking another sip of my coffee. "Hopefully they made enough money to make up for yesterday's loss."

Nicholas patted my shoulder, "Don't beat yourself up too much brother. You almost got caught and managed to evade it."

"I did get caught, just not by the law," I corrected him.

"Okay, but you were caught by a beautiful woman instead. I'd say that's a win-win."

I playfully pushed his shoulder, brushing off his comment; but he was right. Y/N was gorgeous.

We reached the motel and saw Jolly and Folio loading bags of cash into the car.

"Did we make a good haul?" Ruffilo asked as he lit a cigarette. We walked over to them and I eyed the bags; there seemed to be an excessive amount of money.

Folio nodded, "We made enough to cover last night's loss and then some. Looks like we'll be dining well tonight!" He clapped his hands together before tapping them on the hood of the car, exuding excitement.

I questioned with caution, “How did you manage to get all of this in just a couple of hours?” Jolly lit a cigarette and jumped into the front seat. We followed suit, but I rolled down the window to avoid the smoke from filling the car. I could handle smoking joints, but cigarettes burned my throat.

Jolly explained, “We robbed a convenience store off of 9th Ave. It was the quickest way to get the cash we needed.”

Skeptical, I narrowed my eyes and watched him through the rearview mirror, “Aren’t you the one who always says we should avoid businesses because it’s too risky?”

Jolly scoffed, “Yeah, but I do it well. So I don’t mind taking that risk, especially since we were thousands behind.”

I muttered, “Whatever,” and looked out the window. The meeting with D today was crucial; it would determine if we could finally get out of this mess.

The ride was silent until we arrived at the abandoned warehouse by the pier. Dread washed over me as our car was surrounded by men in black masks, guns hanging from their arms.

“Out with your hands up,” a masked guard commanded from outside the car in a muffled voice.

We complied, used to this standard procedure.

D’s familiar booming voice echoed from down the pier, sending shivers down my spine as his shadow approached us under the moonlight. His silver blonde hair glinted in the moonlight as he towered over us, taunting us like prey.

“What have you brought me this month?” he asked eagerly.

“We have about thirteen thousand,” Jolly reported as the guards searched our car and opened up the duffle bags.

D’s eyes flicked between us sharply and scanned the crowd as if looking for any discrepancies. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“I recall agreeing upon fifteen thousand this month,” he remarked.

Jolly almost lunged at him, but he kept his composure and clenched his fists, “No, we agreed on twelve. And you should consider yourself lucky we even managed to get the extra thousand instead of keeping it for ourselves.”

D chuckled darkly, his teeth twisting into an evil grin, “Oh, I’m lucky, am I?”

He walked closer, arms crossed behind his back in a display of power, “I would say you should be lucky that I’m willing to let you get away with this, for a price.”

“We did what you asked,” Jolly growled, “We shook on twelve.”

D smiled smugly and raised a questioning brow, “Yet you brought thirteen.”

Jolly remained silent and the rest of us watched as D strutted between our bodies like a predator encasing its prey in its trap once again.

“I expect twenty thousand next month. Clearly, you are capable of bringing in more,” he stated firmly.

My eyes widened in shock and I turned to the boys for confirmation.

“Twenty?” I exclaimed incredulously, my eyebrows shooting up in disbelief, “How the fuck are we supposed to get twenty? You keep raising the price and we’re getting closer and closer to getting caught every day.”

D cackled cunningly, “If it weren’t for you young Noah, we wouldn’t be in this situation. So maybe it’s time for you to step up and find other ways to earn money.”

Ruffilo pleaded, “But we can’t get twenty.”

“Let’s make it twenty-four then,” D clapped his hands together with a sickening smile on his face, making me want to punch it off.

“Twenty is fine.” Jolly clenched his jaw, struggling to keep a pleasant expression on his face. D sauntered over and clapped him on the back, but Jolly flinched away from the false camaraderie.

"That's my boy," D said with fake enthusiasm. "But I have some good news for you."

My ears perked up at the mention of good news.

"Your debt will be paid off next month. This twenty grand will cover everything."

I had to hold back from cheering out loud, but when I glanced at Ruffilo, we shared a silent moment of celebration. Could it be true? Just twenty thousand dollars more and we would finally be free?

D's tone turned sly as he continued, stepping closer to me until our chests were almost touching.

"There is one condition though," he said with a sneaky smile. "Noah is the only one who can pay me back. No help from anyone else. It has to be Noah's work."

+++++

As soon as we got into the car, tears of anger streamed down my face. This had to be a dream. Why the fuck couldn’t I wake up.

“The four of you will wear trackers. That way I know Noah’s alone when he gets the cash, and brings it to me at the end of each week.”

The boys remained silent the whole way, Nicholas giving me sympathetic glances every so often.

“One final test to see if you’ve really learned your lesson, pretty boy.”

I punched the headrest in front of me, anger seeping through my veins. Pretty boy.

“I think we could all use a drink.” Jolly sighed, turning the car into the parking lot of a local bar. Sammy’s.

The boys got out of the car and I lingered there for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut as my chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Fuck this. Fuck everything. Life was a literal bad omen.

I opened the door, slamming it forcefully as I pulled my hood over my head, following the boys into the bar. I avoided the crowd, sliding into the booth Jolly led us to, leaning into the wall.

“What do you want Noah?” Ruffilo asked.

“Tequila,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. At least that would numb the pain for a bit, “Hennesey.”

“Shouldn’t mix that but ok,” Ruffilo said, standing up to grab the drinks; as he turned he hesitated, “Uh, Noah-”

I raised my head to meet his gaze, pulling back my hood in curiosity before shifting my attention to the woman standing behind him at the counter. Y/N was there, dressed in a tight black tank top that hugged her figure, paired with short shorts that barely covered her hips. The fanny pack slung around her waist and name tag completed the look, but I couldn’t believe this was the other job she had.

We locked eyes as I stared at her in surprise, feeling my cheeks flush as she pushed back her hair and gave me a smile that lit up her kind, pleading eyes.

"He's right," Ruffilo said with astonishment, shaking his head at the sight of us. "There's some sort of connection between you two."

"That's Y/N?" Folio whistled lowly, ogling the woman as she chatted with a customer now, glancing over every few seconds.

"How do you know about her?" I muttered through gritted teeth, leaning towards him in a hushed tone before looking over at Nicholas. "Did you tell them?"

"They needed to know," Ruffilo responded defensively, shrugging his shoulders before walking over to the bar.

"She's stunning, no doubt about it." Jolly grinned approvingly, his eyes still fixed on Y/N as she talked with Ruffilo, occasionally glancing back at me.

I couldn't help but keep stealing glances at her until my cheeks burned and I had to turn away. Her gaze felt like it was scorching holes into my skin. "So, now what?" I asked, raking my fingers through my hair and anxiously twisting the ends.

"Just go say hi, you idiot," Folio exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You guys are clearly checking each other out, so just go do it over there."

I let out a sigh and forced myself out of the booth. As I walked towards Ruffilo and Y/N, her face lit up with excitement.

"Why do you keep following me?" I teased, taking a seat on the stool in front of the counter. Nicholas pushed a tequila shot and a cup of hennesey towards me.

I downed the liquor in one gulp, relishing the burn as it travelled down my throat, savouring the taste of ignorance.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Y/N laughed softly, taking the empty glass from me. "But at the same time, I'm not really surprised at all."

"Something keeps bringing us back together," I chuckled, downing another shot of the brown liquor as its fiery warmth danced across my tastebuds. "I have a feeling that I'm meant to get to know you."

Ruffilo left with three beers, leaving Y/N and I alone. She absentmindedly played with her hair again, tucking it behind her ear. "It's pretty strange," she commented with a small smile.

I nodded, “Can I get two more shots?”

Y/N raised a brow but lined up the glasses, pouring the liquor into them. I downed it again, sighing heavily.

“You got your friend to get your coffee this evening?” Y/N asked now, colour rising to her face as she warmed, almost like she was embarrassed at noticing my lack of presence.

“I’m surprised you’re talking to me after finding what was in my bag.” I laughed, my vision starting to blur. It’s been a while since I’ve drank, and my tolerance must have lowered.

She poured me another, as If I had asked with my eyes, and smiled gently, “You didn’t take it back with you though. You left it behind.”

Not sure it was quite on purpose, but I’m glad she thinks so.

“Those guys are your gang?” She nodded her head towards Jolly, Folio, and Ruffilo. I turned, and they immediately looked away, pretending they weren’t watching our entire interaction unfold. My ears began ringing as the alcohol consumed me, the song playing above us getting louder.

I carry your heart around Like a child that has just been born I try not to let you down And I try not to show my thorns

“Those are my brothers.” I nodded, resting my head on the wooden counter, and closing my eyes in defeat.

“Noah… are you ok?” Y/N placed her hand gently on my own, and my body warmed.

You can run but cannot hide If we fail, then at least I tried To save your soul from becoming hurt and scared

“Yes,” I whispered, lying through my lips.

Y/N came around the counter, reaching for me full of compassion. She hugged me again and I leaned into her touch.

I pretend that things are alright I can comfort you and hold you tight

She saw right through my lies. "I can take my break now. Want to talk about it?" I sat up, trying to focus on her through my blurry vision and the buzz of alcohol in my system. Standing up unsteadily, I took hold of her wrist and pulled her with me towards the restrooms. "Noah," she whispered as we turned the corner, out of sight from anyone else.

To love you feels like Walking on broken glass

I was fully aware that I didn't deserve someone like Y/N in my life. The way she treated me with kindness and compassion, a stranger or, as she put it, a level two acquaintance, left me amazed. But deep down, I knew that she was meant to be a part of my life in some way. Fate had brought us together, even if it was only for a short time. As I pulled her close to me, wrapping my arms around her, I couldn't help but hold onto her as tightly as possible. Her warmth enveloped me and I savoured every moment of her touch against my hands, which often showed no mercy.

"Why do I feel like I can tell you anything?" Y/N peered back up at me through her lashes and rested her head on my chest.

"Why do I trust you?" She laughed softly, holding onto me tightly.

Running my hands gently over her back, my nails grazing her smooth skin. "I guess it's because I fit your type."

Her laughter filled the hall again as she smiled up at me. "Oh, right, of course."

"But seriously," I said, swaying with her in my arms. "There must be some reason why we were drawn to each other."

"Maybe," she replied.

"There's no other explanation," I stuttered, feeling the alcohol start to take over. All I could focus on was the warmth of her body against mine and the racing of my heart. My hand travelled up her arm and cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet mine.

Will you carry my heart around When it's old and grey? Will you stay until we fade away?

Our gazes locked, and I couldn't resist leaning down towards her. Our lips met in a soft brush, but I couldn't stop myself from deepening the kiss. It was a bad idea, but at that moment, I didn't care. Y/N stood on tiptoe, returning my kiss with equal fervour. My hands instinctively held her close to me as my heart raced with desire.

I kissed her hungrily, my mind filled with a thousand steamy images. Was it because of the alcohol or my lack of physical intimacy lately, or was it simply because it was Y/N? My hands slid down to her thighs, eagerly exploring her skin before slipping under the hem of her shorts.

“Noah,” she gasped, breaking away from our embrace.

“Bathroom,” I whispered huskily, urging her towards the door. As soon as we were inside, I locked the door and lifted her onto the bathroom counter. The invitation was clear as I positioned myself between her legs.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as our lips met. I couldn't help but smile against her mouth, unsure of where this was heading but only focused on the desire to take her right here, right now.

"I want to take you against this counter," I murmured.

She moaned in response but then pulled away with hesitation. "I don't know if this is a good idea-" she started to say, but I tugged at her belt loop and pressed my body against hers.

"Just one night," I whispered, my forehead resting against hers as we both caught our breath from the intense kiss. "One night to feel anything but pain."

Y/N's gaze locked with mine before she closed her eyes and nodded, pulling me back in for more kisses. The anticipation and excitement coursed through my veins, making me even harder with each passing second.

I pushed her shorts down, revealing her underwear as she sat on the counter. A primal groan escaped my throat as I watched her spread her legs just for me.

This was all so messed up, yet in this moment, it didn't matter.

My hands trailed across her skin, slipping into her panties and tracing her slick folds with my fingers. My body ached to replace them with my own heat, longing for her touch.

But for now, I kissed her again while my fingers explored inside of her, causing Y/N to gasp and shiver with pleasure. My thumb danced along her core, teasing and building up her desire as we lost ourselves in each other's bodies.

Desire consumed me as I pulled back, asking for consent. Y/N's hooded eyes watched intently as she nodded eagerly, urging me on.

"Please, Noah," she pleaded, positioning herself at the counter's edge. I spat into my hand and Y/N followed my movements with rapt attention as I prepared myself before entering her. We locked eyes again and she gave a nod of approval before I slid inside, my body immediately trembling in response to her movements. I let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes briefly as Y/N's warmth enveloped me.

I will never forget the day Our souls became one And I know there's a secret We've been Swallowing Lying so passionately

Her brow furrowed as she focused on the feeling of my body inside hers, letting out soft gasps as I moved my hips against hers. From my intoxicated state, I observed her closely, trying to decipher her expressions. As she tightened around me and moaned, I held onto her thighs with my nails digging into her skin. In that moment, I remembered a similar experience in her bedroom earlier that night.

"Don't make a sound," I warned, covering her mouth with my hand. Her eyes widened before becoming hooded again, clearly infatuated with me. "I wouldn't want you to get fired."

Y/N looked like she wanted to protest, the enticing noises begging to escape from her throat. My body was overcome with pleasure, the sensation of being with her intense and passionate. My forehead wrinkled as I struggled to keep going, knowing that I was close to climaxing. Unfortunately, alcohol didn't exactly improve my endurance.

Her soft plea filled my ear as I held her hand firmly in mine. My body responded to her words, and I gripped her hips tightly as I thrust into her, letting the pleasure take over and numb any lingering depression. With each forceful movement, I found release and pulled out of her to finish stroking myself, spilling onto her stomach.

My breaths came out heavy as I knelt down and trailed kisses up Y/N's thigh. She watched me with confusion in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked but spread her legs wider.

"It's your turn now, princess," I replied, reaching for her core and pulling her towards my mouth. I started sucking on her delicate skin, causing Y/N to cover her mouth with one hand and tangle the other into my hair as she rocked against my face.

I savoured the taste of her body, hoping deep down that it was meant to be mine.

"Fuck, Noah," she moaned, throwing her head back against the mirror as she rode the wave of pleasure. Her eyebrows were furrowed in ecstasy.

"Don't stop," she begged, and I didn't. I gave her everything I had.

"Come for me, Y/N," I said between licks and squeezes of her hips. "Be a good girl for me."

As her legs started to tremble and her mouth opened in a silent scream, she reached the peak of her climax. I continued until she pushed me away, her breathing becoming shallow as she caught her breath. I took hold of her chin and brought her lips to mine, yearning for her to taste herself on my tongue.

Life had broken her; just as it had broken him. But when they got together, their pieces became whole. And they started on their journey, together, mended as one. - Steve Maraboli

Chapter Five

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @Anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

#burning out fanfic #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #metalcore #nick ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #smut #bad omens smut #bad omens fanfiction

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blackkatmagic · 3 months ago

Note

“Go kiss a Hutt,” Nico says, and draws his lightsaber, the blue blade burning to life with a deep, familiar hum. “Old friend. They’ll actually appreciate all the slime. I assure you, it’s not welcome here.”

I would like to order one Nico Diath, delivered straight to my front door, please!

Jokes aside, I just love it when you include Nico in your stories. He has never been one of my favourite characters, but you write him so well! He's so witty, and you always manage to make him say something that makes me laugh, and the newest chapter of amongs dust was no different. Brilliant work!

Also, I would like to grab A'Sharad by the shoulders and shake him, just to make him open his mouth and to tell someone about Anakin. But in reality, I think most of us readers can actually sympathise with his unableness to say anything. I think it is one of the worst feelings there is; just knowing something should be said/done, but being unable to do it for whatever reason. The feeling just strangels you from the inside and it really shows that sometimes your biggest enemy is your own brain. This is one more thing that you have managed to write amazingly in this fic! Thanks again for sharing it with us!

Everyone needs a salty old Nico in their life, and I stand by this fact.

A'Sharad is. very much Going Through It in regards to his own psyche here. I'm really glad it comes off as relatable, because there is a reason for it his complete inability to tell people what's happened. And...sometimes it's just really, really hard to tell the truth, even knowing the stakes, when you're emotionally tied up about that truth.

#kat answers

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extremelyblackandwhite · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry for being mia, this chapter ended up quite long so i divided it into two, the next coming out mid week.

masterlist

look at this godforsaken mess that you made me ...

To say tonight had been filled with surprises was an understatement. Starting at the restaurant when Sadie threw most of her cutlery to the ground, to the waitress flirting mercilessly with Bucky and him not noticing it, Y/N had to admit, it had taken her mind from the outcome of her viva. The night ended with the two walked through the front door, Bucky holding a sleeping Sadie against his side while Y/N held her plushy. They walked up the stairs to Sadie's bedroom, putting her in bed and tucking her in surrounded by the countless plushies she had.

The two parted ways to change, Y/N changing out of her dress and into her pyjamas while Bucky changed into his joggers. They met up downstairs, Y/N being the last. She spotted him turning on Netflix, setting pillow and making popcorn.

- Mine better be sweet. - she walked up from behind him, sitting on the counter.

- I can't believe you like your popcorn sweet. - Bucky handed her the bowl he'd set aside from her. - They're better salty.

- I'm sorry, I forgot old men can't have too much sugar. - she put a popped kernel on her tongue, letting it dissolve.

- I'm 37, Y/N. You'll be 37 one day too.

- Yeah in ten years. - she chuckled, jumping from the counter and onto the ground. - Should we watch 13 going on 30?

- I said it was up to you and I meant it. - he walked her to the couch, taking a seat after she did. - So tell me, you're an Ohio girl. What's in Ohio?

- I'm not an Ohio girl.

- Your parents have a farm there.

- I told you they bought it after I moved out for college, the first time. I'm actually from Hartford.

- Hartford? How unbelievably old money of you. - he joked. - My grandad's from Hartford.

- Actually, my parents inherited the house from my grandmother. She died before I was born and was a bit eccentric. The house had been in the family for ages but it was a pain to look after and with my mum staying home to look after me, it just wasn't a financial good decision to keep it in the family anymore.

- I'm sorry. That must've been tough. I think I would have a stressful time if my parents sold my childhood home. I want to leave it to Sadie, you know?

- They sold it to a contractor so they'll probably demolish it but it used to have this massive tree in the backyard and my dad couldn't afford one of those plastic swings so he got some rope and he made me a makeshift one hanging from the tree. Obviously, I kinda got bored of the swing as I grew older and moved to try and use the rope to climb the tree.

- Y/N. - he chuckled, moving in closer to her. - You're supposed to be the responsible one.

- On my 8th birthday, I fell from it. Had a cast for ages and mum helped me bedazzle it.

- Bedazzle it? My, my, Y/N, weren't you a sparkle razzle dazzle girl. - he chuckled, trying to imagine a younger version of Y/N running around with a bedazzled cast. - Did you like it? In Hartford?

- It was nice but my favourite thing was being close to Yale. My dad used to take me there every Saturday because I wanted to go to Yale but I didn't get in.

- Their loss. You want some whiskey?

Bucky got up to go to the drinks cart, while Y/N turned in the couch to stare at him. She liked him this way, calm, understated, away from all the Prada suits and the leather shoes and YSL long coat, just casual and comfortable in his home. It was ... hot, in a way which she would not admit in front of anyone but herself. He poured her a glass before pouring one for himself.

- We haven't picked that movie yet, doll.

- Finding the conversation boring already? - she took a sip of the amber liquid. Bucky always had good drinks. - I was about to ask about your education.

- My education?

- Yes, I'm curious. I assumed you went to college.

- Okay, hum ... my mother wanted me to go to Eton like her father but I got kicked out so then I went to Collegiate School here. After that, I went to Stanford Business School and loved it so much that I wished to never go back.

- You went to Stanford?

- Why is that so shocking? I'm not particularly stupid, I reckon.

- No, no, it's just that Stanford is in California. You are a New Yorker in my eyes.

- That's where I started dating Sadie's mother.

- Really?

- Well, some would call it dating but honestly it was just us fucking in as many seminar rooms as we could. She was seeing someone else, I was seeing someone else. Sex was good though.

- My god, aren't you a little fuckboy? - she giggled at his comment. There was an ease at how they communicated, an ease which Bucky only experienced with his close friends, only a few of them.

- C'mon, early 20s with all the girls at my feet? What did you expect me to do?

- Hey, I have a question, don't feel insulted but why did you like Anna?

- Well ... - he shrugged. - I grew up with Anna, I knew her before Steve. Her mother and my mother were close so she was always there. She was quite annoying as a kid and then at college she was just attractive and she was smart. She's really smart, I hope Sadie gets some of that from her.

- Did you love her?

Bucky paused, looking at her as if she'd asked him an unanswerable question. He felt he'd fare better with questions such as what happens when we die or if God exists.

- There's different kinds of love. I did love Anna and I will always somewhat love her because she gave me my kid but it's not the same kind of love that I think people feel for a partner.

- I understand.

- I know I make it sound like I hate her and believe me I do but she is an absolutely fantastic woman. She's a terrible mother but if Sadie is as smart and charismatic as her, that'll do her good.

- You must've really loved her. - she pulled her knees towards her chest, laying her chin on top of her kneecaps. - Was she the love of your life?

- No. - he chuckled, taking another sip of whiskey before turning to look at her. - You're young, you'll have a lot of nice, stupid loves but it doesn't mean it's the one.

- You, James Buchanan Barnes, believe in the idea of the one?

- My parents have a great marriage even though my mother faints at the mere mention of anything less than decent. He really loves her you know? They have these stupid renewal vow ceremonies ever 15 years and they still look like kids in love.

- That's really sweet.

- What about your parents?

- My parents? Well, let me think. My dad he's from Brooklyn and he met my mum on a field trip to Hartford, she's the one from Hartford. They wrote to each other every day like crazy, apparently my grandfather told my father off for spending all his pocket money on stamps. Eventually they met up, slept together and got pregnant with me. Dad got a job at a company downtown of Hartford and my mum worked at a beauty counter and honestly I'm surprised I have no brothers.

- Your parents didn't go to college?

- No. - she giggled. - My mum got pregnant at 18 and my dad, well, he never really liked school.

- You really are one of a kind, Y/N.

- There's a thousands of me. You probably slept with a few.

- You just had to jab me there, hadn't you? - he threw his arm over her shoulder. - I'll have you know that you are not my type.

- Uhm, my boobs too small?

- What? - he blushed before looking at her chest and noticing her was looking at her chest. - No. They're fine. Stupid question.

- You're the one who said I'm not your type.

- You're uptight.

- I am not uptight.

- You, Y/N, are the most uptight person I have ever met. It's not an insult, you're probably second on the uptight list followed by me.

- Sounds like an insult.

- C'mon, Y/N, when was the last time you did something you didn't consider at least fifty five times?

- Christopher.

- Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about him but he doesn't count. Christopher is safe.

In a way, maybe. Christopher was a safe option even if he wasn't an option anymore. He was the exact kind of guy you would bring home, stable enough that no big surprises would come from him. He was perfectly fine for someone, just not for her. Yet, Bucky was right, very much right about Christopher being safe.

- You think I'm a mouse.

- No, no. - Bucky rose his hands in defense. - I don't think you're a mouse. I'm just saying you play it safe.

- I'm a mouse.

- What's the problem with playing it safe?

- Well, I have what 3 years left of my twenties. I don't think I should be playing it safe. Did you play it safe when you were twenty?

- Don't use me as an example. I was a fuck up when I was in my twenties, heck, even in my early thirties.

- You turned out fine.

- So did you. - he moved closer to her. - You are great the way you are, Y/N. I don't know why you think you're not.

Y/N turned around to face him, he was close. She could feel his warm breathe on her exposed elbow and could see his face so close, she could make up the light freckles that were dotted all over his face and the pattern his facial hair grew. He was gorgeous.

- You like me, right?

- I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't. - he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing down her jaw. - Even if you are argumentative.

- That's not what I meant. - she looked away from him, sitting up straight against the couch. - You said you liked me just the way I am. What did you mean?

- I meant I like you the way you are. It's pretty self explanatory.

- You're not funny.

- Well, Y/N, I like you. I like the way you argue with me, how when you're upset you scrunch your face like you're about to explode but it just looks cute, how your glasses always fall to the tip of your nose when you're studying, how you play around with Sadie like she's your own. I like you.

- You like me?

- I love you.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @fedeffy

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n

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canirove · 7 months ago

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Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 22

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Mase… Mason, can you… you… urgh.”

“What the fuck, Adele? You just pushed me out of the bed!” he complained, trying to untangle the sheets from his legs.

“It's what you deserve after almost making me fall like a hundred times in the past two hours with all your fidgeting” she shrugged.

“What?”

“You haven't stopped moving since we got in bed. What is going on with you?”

“Nothing” he said, laying down again next to her.

“Oh, c'mon, Mase. Is it because of the shoot? Are you nervous about working together?”

“I love working with you, Addie. No one makes me feel more relaxed in front of a camera than you do.”

“Then?” she asked.

“It's… everything else about your crazy plan. What if something goes wrong? What if I can't keep avoiding meeting with my agency to talk about my contract? What if they find out about…”

“Mason” Adele said, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. “Everything is gonna be ok. Our plan will work out, your agency won't find out, and you will be free.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I came up with the plan, didn't I? It is perfect” she smiled. “Jokes aside, if we don't believe it will work out, it won't. We have to stay positive.”

“Easier said than done” he sighed.

“Lucky you, you have me to kick you out of bed every time you start doubting.”

“Yeah, nice way to treat your boyfriend” he said, trying really hard to not smile but once again being betrayed by his dimple. “What if I injure myself, uh? Then what?” he said, tickling her.

“Then we'll call your mum so she can take care of you. You are like the worst patient ever.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mason!” Adele laughed when he tickled her again, making her move on the bed. “You know you are, everyone says it.”

“Poppycock” he said.

“The truth!” she laughed again when he tickled her, moving to escape from his reach. What Adele hadn't realized, though, is that she was closer to the end of the bed than she thought. “Oh, shit!”

“Adele!” Mason said, trying to catch her before she fell. “Addie, are you alright? Addie… Why are you laughing?”

“I just…” she said, cutting herself mid sentence and starting to laugh again.

“Addie, are you sure you didn't hit your head when you fell?” he chuckled.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Do you need help getting up?”

“I actually do” she said, taking the hand Mason was offering her.

“Adele!” he said when she pulled him towards her and made him fall again, this time landing on top of her. “Are you mad?”

“Madly in love with you, yes” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Going cheesy won't make me forget that you've pushed me out of the bed. Twice.”

“I see… and if I do this?” she asked before kissing him.

“Nope. Nothing.”

“Umm…”

“Biting your lip won't help either.”

“What?” she chuckled.

“You do it sometimes when you think. You bite your lip, and it drives me crazy.”

“And it isn't working now?”

“No.”

“Really?” Adele smirked while biting it again.

“Ok, maybe a tiny bit.”

“And if I do this?” she said, moving them on the floor until she was the one on top and straddling him. “You usually like this position, especially when I look like this” she said, slowly taking off her t-shirt while Mason's eyes followed her every move.

“Have I told you yet that I love how you've turned my t-shirts into your pyjamas since we got together?”

“Don't change the topic of conversation, Mason.”

“But it's true. They look better on you that they do on me.”

“Should I put it back again, then?”

“Hell no” he said as he sat up, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him, his chest against her naked one.

“Then what?” Adele asked, biting her lip once again. “Have you forgiven me for pushing you out of the bed? Twice?”

“I'll let you know later. Right now all I want is you, Addie. All of you. You and only you. I love you.”

“And I…” but she wasn't allowed to finish her reply, Mason's lips finding hers.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I think this is my favourite photo from this set.”

“And you are my favourite.”

“Mason!” Adele giggled after he kissed her cheek. “There are people watching.”

“And?” he said while hugging her from behind. “We agreed to do this, didn't we? To be all lovey-dovey so they could have a cute behind the scenes video of the shoot for the fans.”

“We did, yes. But maybe you could tone it down a bit.”

“Umm… no” he said, now kissing her neck. “And you started it all, it's your fault.”

“What?” Adele laughed.

“Have you forgotten about last night? About this morning? Because I haven't” he said, kissing that spot on her neck that he knew made her knees feel like jelly.

“Mase” she gasped.

“Yes?” he whispered in her ear, the feeling making her shudder.

“We still have work to do.”

“But we could take a break. Maybe go somewhere private just you and I and…”

“Mason, can you… Oh, sorry” the stylist that was working on the photoshoot said behind them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, no, it's fine” Adele said, clearing her throat and taking a step away from Mason. “We were checking the photos I just took, seeing if they were good and we could move into the next look.”

“And can we? Because I need him to try this shirt on. I think it'll need some alterations, and if we don't do it now we may not have time to shoot it.”

“Yes, yes. He's all yours” Adele smiled.

“Great. Mason, can you please come with me?” the stylist asked him.

“Of course. Though Adele lied to you.”

“Lied to me about what?” she asked with a confused look.

“I can't be all yours, because all of me is already hers” he said with a big smile, one that was all dimples.

“Jesus Christ, Mason” Adele said, feeling her cheeks on fire. “Go get changed before we all die of a sugar rush.”

“It's the truth” he shrugged. “And as if you didn't like it” he whispered to her before following the stylist.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And that's wrap! Thank you very much, everyone” Adele smiled.

“Urgh, finally! Can't wait to get rid of you. And with you I mean you lot” Mason said with a teasing smile, pointing at the crew. “I could never get tired of my Addie.”

“Please someone stop him before he gets even more cheesy!” she said, making everyone on set laugh.

“It's been a pleasure to work with you during these couple of days, guys” the stylist said. “This issue is gonna be iconic.”

“I hope so” Mason smiled. “Anyway, are you up for a beer? I know I just said I can't wait to get rid of you all, but… please?” he pouted.

“We can't say no to that face, can we?” the stylist chuckled. “Let's meet in the pub at the end of the road in half an hour. Is that ok?”

“Yeah, perfect. Addie?”

“Sure” she smiled.

“Addie, are you ok?” Mason asked her while she finished packing her camera.

“Uhm.”

“Uhm isn't an answer.”

“I'm ok, Mason. Is that better?”

“If you were telling me the truth, it would. Addie, what happened? Aren't you happy with the photos?”

“What? No, no. The photos are amazing. I'm surprised they look that good keeping in mind that the model sucks.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry” she shrugged.

“But if it isn't because of the photos, then why are you looking so serious?”

“I'm ok, Mase. I already told you.”

“Addie… Adele” he said, taking her hands on his and making her focus on him. “What happened? You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why aren't you doing it?”

“It's just… I… Urgh.”

“Addie…”

“Now I'm the one having doubts, ok?”

“What?” Mason chuckled.

“Yeah” she sighed.

“Did I pass them to you through all the fluids we've shared lately?” he smirked.

“Mason!” Adele gasped, her eyes wide.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry” he laughed. “But why are you having doubts?”

“Because now that the photos are done, it feels more real, you know? And we can't make any mistakes. Just a little one could lead to your agency finding out and…”

“That isn't going to happen, Addie. This plan is going to work, and not only because you came up with it” he smiled, letting go of one of her hands and caressing her cheek. “I've been thinking about it, and the fact that things have been going pretty smoothly since my agency released the statement about you not being pregnant, is a sign of this working out, of luck being on our side.”

Things had been going pretty well since they had told the truth, Mason wasn't wrong about that. Though maybe the fact that they had “embellished” the story a bit, had helped.

His agency had told the press that Adele had never been pregnant and that the photos had been taken out of context just as she had asked them to do. But they had added that if she had been wearing bigger and looser clothes, it was because all the comments about her body had made her feel self-conscious and insecure about it, and that with the support of Mason, she had finally stopped caring and decided to love her body the way it was, live her life and be happy. They had made her look as a victim, people going from hating her to pitying her and feeling sorry for her, somehow turning everything that had happened into some kind of feminist message, and made Mason look like the perfect boyfriend who supported her girl and made her feel loved and special, his fans swooning just by the thought of it.

“Addie, you said it yourself. We have to be positive and believe that this will work out.”

“We do, yes” she nodded.

“And we are together in this. You and I, but also our families and our friends. This will work out.”

“It will” she said, finally smiling.

“Good” Mason smiled back, his hand still on her cheek. “Now, why don't you finish packing while I go get changed? I really need that beer.”

“Sure. But you can't be that tired, you just posed in front of a camera” Adele teased him.

“I actually am. You should have seen the photographer, she was so bossy…”

“I thought you liked me being bossy” she laughed.

“In bed, yes. Out of it…” he smirked. “See you in a bit, ok?”

“Ok.”

“I love you, Addie” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Love you too” she replied.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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lady-rose-moon · 1 year ago

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Wildest Dreams || Chapter One ||

A/N: hello everybody, welcome to chapter one, finally! I have to be honest, the original update day for this was Friday but I had SO MUCH to deal with like my accommodation for Uni next year, money being a bit tight, etc! But yeah, I am looking forward to you reading this chapter, it's only small but it expands the world! Enjoy! ^-^

↣ MASTERLIST

You were in your paradise again, the same golden castle, same beautiful sky and grass softer and richer than your worlds. Yet there was one difference, the man you’d met a month ago was there now, he had been for two weeks. No explanation, just the guy you’d met because you almost died appearing in your dreams. He wasn’t wearing his suit, however. No, he was wearing armour that you knew wasn’t from any time period you’d ever studied about.

His eyes were the same emerald green, the love in them shining as his gaze was always fixed on you. He had first appeared in a window at the door to the garden of your dreams. In the next few days, the door beside the window inched open and he passed through. Now, he was standing at the beautiful cherry blossom tree just a bit in front of you. He didn’t seem threatening, nor did he ever speak to you, he just watched. Quiet. Ever the understanding soul through the days where you forced yourself to sleep just to retreat to this paradise to rid yourself of the worry of the world.

You hadn’t anticipated he would feel so comforting even from a distance. Just him being in this paradise with you eased your stress after a long day or at night when you’d finally return here. He wasn’t a threat, you somehow knew he would never hurt you.

December, January and February came and passed, uneventful, mundane days that blurred into one, saved only by your little paradise. You hadn’t seen the man since that fateful encounter that first day. Three months. Three. He was closer in your dream now but far from you in the waking world.

Coincidence, you assumed after the first month, waiting just that little bit longer at the crossing for the familiar face of the man.

Perhaps he was merely visiting, you realised a month later as you stood on the street where you’d met him the second time.

Why am I this bothered about a man I met twice anyway? You pondered for the whole third month.

Today marks three months since you’d met the man. You’d never even gotten his name, you just assumed he was new to the neighbourhood and your shenanigans would occur every day but your foolish hope broke after the first two weeks.

You dragged yourself through your routine again, setting off into the late February weather; rain. Luckily, you’d remembered your umbrella this time and smiled at your luck before setting off through the rain toward your favourite coffee shop. You paid attention this time, lingering glances at every person’s face that was nicely dressed, desperately hoping to see him again. You didn’t understand why he mattered so much to you but you’d find out somehow.

The bell chimed above the door to the coffee shop as you entered, gazing down at your phone to check how long until your shift before you hit a hard chest and a burning pain lit up across your arms and chest. You gasped at the pain and jumped back, your white blouse stained with coffee. “Hey! Watch it next… time…” you began before trailing off, meeting the eyes of the same man you’d been desperately searching for through the months. His eyes were concerned but it was as if time around the two of you had stopped, giving you this moment.

“Shit, forgive me,” the man cursed, pulling you aside and pulling a handkerchief out of his suit jacket pocket. He began to try and dry your shirt but you knew that the stain wouldn’t come out like that, if at all. “Suppose I am the clumsy one this time,” he joked, a slight grin overtaking his concerned frown.

“Suppose so,” you responded timidly before sighing and holding his wrist, stopping his efforts of drying your shirt. “I’ll just go home and change it, it’s no worry,” you responded with a soft smile, even though you knew that your very stereotypical corporate boss would very stereotypically bunk your pay.

The man pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow questioningly, “do you have something to cover yourself with? I’m afraid walking back to your apartment with a sopping blouse and clearly visible bra would warrant… unwanted attention.”

The way the man spoke sounded so elegant, the kind of language that you’d expect from a gentleman of the 1900s not the boys that roamed the world these days, it shocked you even more. However, what almost caused your brain to malfunction was when the man gently took your hand and guided you into the disabled bathroom, locking the door behind you two before unbuttoning his green waistcoat and then his shirt.

“Woah, woah, woah!” you yelled, your eyes widening in shock as the man’s bare chest was revealed to you, “I barely know you, sir! At least take me out on a date first!”

The man threw his head back and laughed before shaking his head and offering you his white shirt. “You misunderstand, this is for you, at least until you finish the day,” he informed you, his shoulders still quivering with laughter, “I shall walk you to your building then be back when you finish to walk you home. After that, you can give me my shirt back. Or keep it.” He added with a wink at the end before turning his back without being prompted to keep your modesty, sliding on the waistcoat as he did.

You stared at the shirt in your hand and wasted no time changing into it, sighing in relief at the feeling of dry fabric against your skin. “Thank you,” you muttered before adding, “you can turn around now.”

The man turned and you watched as a war of emotions flew across his face before he pulled on a smile and nodded. “Then let us depart,” he smiled and guided you out of the bathroom, out of the shop and onto the street.

As he walked you to work, the silence between the both of you wasn’t tense, it wasn’t awkward. It felt… right. Comforting. This man had done a good deed, definitely, but he was going the whole mile, not putting in just the required amount of care.

When you got to your work building, it almost seemed wrong to leave the man’s side but you waved to him and walked inside.

The man stayed on the path outside the building for a few more minutes. Watching until your form had truly disappeared within the concrete building before conjuring himself a new shirt in a flurry of green and walking away, waving his hand once again with a small, sad smile on his lips.

When you got to your desk, you discovered your favourite beverage waiting for you, piping hot beside your desk with a note.

You forgot your drink this morning.

Have a good day.

~ L

You pondered the question of how the man – L – had gotten your drink, got to your desk and left before you ever reached the floor for the rest of the day.

A/N(2)- okay yeah this was REALLY small, I'm so sorry! But I hope you enjoyed :)

Regular tags:

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#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #mcu loki #reblog please #tom hiddleston character x reader #loki hurt/comfort #loki x you

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satureja13 · 11 months ago

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The Friendship between: Saiwa and Vlad

Like Vlad and Jack, Saiwa and Vlad met at the Space (Balls) Bar & Grill & 'Residence'.

They have a very solid friendship and respect each other. Usually one of them is reasonable and able to talk the other into doing the right thing or out of making wrong decisions and usually the other listens.

Saiwa is a reluctant leader (no one except himself ever questioned his abilities to lead them, neither the Boys themselves nor the Resistance) and often questions his position in the group and it's a burden for him. He's glad that he can ask Vlad (and Kiyoshi) for advice.

And he also thinks that Vlad would be a better leader (also no one else shares this opinion lol and Vlad would be shocked if he knew about this. He has more than enough problems, is an introvert and prefers quiet activities like painting and writing over herding a bunch of weirdos out of control ö.Ö') More about this (and more ^^') here (under the cut) and here (also under the cut).

Aside of all their hardships, they also are a very handsome pairing (=the visuals of the group ;) (Romance Level: Below Zero) At Mount Komorebi

In our Heidi Special I love the way they look at each other.

And a very funny one! That was when we made the Simtimates Collection Special at the end of the Sabotage Chapter: Sai joked about what if Ms Coombes, their teacher (Vlad is her favourite) ever sees these pics hahaha. (And a few weeks later she said she really saw them! omg ^^')

And that was at the 6 month anniversary of our story ^w^ Hissing and growling with the yeti :3

And in the Jungle of Selvadorada

After Vlad died, it had been Saiwa who refused accepting it and kept on investigating. He even dragged Jeb to DEATH's Domain to find out what happened to him.

And that was when Saiwa and the Gang Doctor 'encouraged' Vlad to tighten the Bond with Ji Ho :3 (Ah I really enjoy doing this series, we had so much fun! And it keeps me busy and from worrying until I have my new computer and if everything goes well ^^')

And no one ever found out which song it was...

The only fights they had (and I remember) were before Ji Ho and Vlad tightened the bond. This was at the beginning when Vlad wanted to avoid Ji Ho:

And this was when Giga/Saiwa had sent Ji Ho to Vlad's room to take a bath and Vlad was upset because he feared to lose control ^^' (It had been Saiwa who dragged Ji Ho to the Space Bar and Saiwa was the first who predicted their epic love story at the first they they'd met)

Oh and the epic fight they had that faithful day when Vlad decided to bond with Morgan to spare Ji Ho from doing Bond Magic... Sai and Jack had been so mad at Vlad, they didn't speak with him for months ö.Ö' (this stupid action also lead to the Boys' separation and a few weeks later they swore to not have any secrets from each other to avoid further harm).

This is one of the few things they'll never agree on I fear. Saiwa wants to use their Bond magic for doing good and Vlad wants to spare Ji Ho from doing it.

Their Friendships (in chronological order):

Giga/Saiwa and Jack

Vlad and Jack (updated)

Giga/Saiwa and Vlad

Vlad and Sai at Tartosa

Vlad and Sai dancing together in our Goth Special

In chronological order: 🫛 Saiwa and Jack 🫛 Vlad and Jack 🫛 Saiwa and Vlad 🫛 Kiyoshi and Jeb 🫛 Saiwa and Ji Ho 🫛 Ji Ho and Jack 🫛 Ji Ho and Jeb 🫛 Ji Ho and Kiyoshi 🫛 Vlad and Kiyoshi 🫛 Vlad and Jeb 🫛 Saiwa and Kiyoshi 🫛 Jack and Jeb

❤️‍🔥 Ji Ho and Vlad (and Luci) ❤️‍🔥 Saiwa and Jeb ❤️‍🔥 Jack and Kiyoshi ❤️‍🔥 Noxee and Greg ❤️‍🔥 Leander and Wesley (and Vlad) ❤️‍🔥 Francine Spencer (Jeb's Grandmother) and Jules Rico

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

#The Boys Friendships #Saiwa and Jack #underwater love #sims 4 story #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #giga byte #saiwa #jack callahan #sims 4 vanilla #oc #ocs #my ocs #original character

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xiaozhan-appreciation · 13 hours ago

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A small review of “Legends of the Condor Heroes: The Gallants”

— no spoilers —

Coming out of the cinema yesterday evening, I was thoroughly impressed by many things in this movie, but neither then nor now do I have much time to write down my thoughts. So this will be shorter than I'd like it to be.

A short context for my experience with the movie: I saw it in 2D, in its original language with subs in my native language. I have never read the books before nor seen any of the other adaptations featuring Guo Jing.

So, let's start!

Story & Structure

The Legend of the Condor Heroes: The Gallant is based on the the chapters 34 to 40 of the novel The Legend of the Condor Heroes by Jin Yong.

The movie therefore tells only a small part of Guo Jing's life and covers both martial arts fights as well as a love story. It's in a way quite archetypical and does not aim to re-ivent the wheel, but it is solid and entertaining, and keeps you wishing to know how the story ends. I have weak spot for dilemmas such as Guo Jing finds himself in, so I had a really good time with the movie.

In terms of structure, I will say that the movie's greatest difficulty is that it aims to tell only a part of a larger story while makeing everyone understand the context. And while I think the story certainly was understandable, I also think it was very fast paced and could have benefited from going a bit slower every now and then, or from streamlining a couple of story elements that are probably more important for the whole story but didn't have enough room to breathe in this movie. But that's the opinion of someone who hasn't read the novel, and book fans might have a different opinion on the matter.

Aside from that I think the story flows smoothly, never gets boring and reaches a satisfying conclusion.

Tone & Theme

Based on my limited experiences, the movie hits the well established tone of Hong Kong wuxia movies. It was unexpectedly funny at times, sometimes through subtle characterisations or mannerisms, sometimes through good editing, and I don't remember any point where the movie seemed to go for a joke that didn't land for me. In general the movie is more on the serious side though, with a couple of really great and epic moments that were awesome to watch on the big screen. Only in a few cases there a bit too moments involving the main antagonist that felt too cheesy but that's not the first time I've seen that kind of cheesyness in a wuxia movie.

The movie includes a couple of themes, but they are difficult to discuss without giving spoilers. Keeping it vague, I think my favourite aspect was exploring the idea of loyalty to one's own heart, to one's family – both your biological and adopted, and to the protection of the people. While the movie includes othere themes as well, this is the core of the movie in my opinion.

Cast & Characters

The movie benefits from a strong cast that make it really easy to like the characters.

Xiao Zhan as Guo Jing was obviously why I watched the movie in the first place, and he has fully met my expectations for this performance. The real dedication for this role is mostly noticeable in how well Xiao Zhan vanishes in the figure of Guo Jing. Guo Jing is a believable character through and through: a simple, innocent and kind young man who easily connect with people.

I was impressed particularly by the Guo Jing's fight scenes, which are prominent in several scenes and were simply flawless, and also by Xiao Zhan's dedication to learning the Mongolian speech. I didn't expect the dialogue to be what must have been at least 1/3 in Mongolian, so that must have been especially difficult as it's always the case when you film a movie in a language not your own. I have no idea how good his Mongolian actually is, but I can certainly hear that he speaks it with conviction. And I have learned the Mongolian word for "idiot", isn't it nice...? 😆 So, well done Xiao Zhan, and thank you for introducing me to Guo Jing!

Zhuang Dafei as Huang Rong and Zhang Wenxin as Hua Zheng were also really good. I was afraid that the rivalry between these two characters might get annoying somehow, but it was unexpectedly great to watch them together on screen. They had good chemistry with each other and also with Xiao Zhan's Guo Jing. Huang Rong is certainly the smartest of the the characters in the show but sucks at pretending or being dishonest, and Hua Zheng is quite emotional, strong willed, and also very dedicated. I love them both.

Baya'ertu as Genghis Khan is also worth mentioning. He portrayed both the loving father and the powerful leader of the Mongols very well, and his character was also well used within the story.

Similarly, I had no complaints for almost any of the cast or characters – they all did well and the characters worked within their story and setting. The only exception to this is the main antagonist, who for my taste was a bit too much of a mustache twirling evil power-hungry maniac. Villains don't have to be complex characters with expansive back stories, but if they need to offer something – and for me that wasn't realy there. Luckily the story doesn't need him for the emotional parts of the story, and the thematic conflict works perfectly without him as well.

Cinematography & Score

Last but not least: the cinematography is amazing and simply beautiful. I love all the wide shots, I love the fight choreography, the costumes and set designs, and I love the lightning and the sometimes unexpected tracking shots. I love how flawless the combination of actually filmed scenes and visual effects is, which is so smooth that I can't really tell where one stops and the other starts. I have maybe two or three short moments that don't work for me because they are senselessly dramatic or weird choreographed elements (looking at you, random horses and random bee nest 👀), and I don't think the side by side blending is a good idea, but outside of that I have no complaints and lots of praise instead.

As for the soundtrack – I'm lacking the time and the knowledge to do a proper review of it, so I'll just say that the music was also great, and especially the main theme was fittingly epic. I think the little bit of Mongolian rock or metal (?) was also a nice touch, and fits the atmosphere of the setting. It was a surprising choice, but a good one.

Conclusion

Tl;dr: I've enjoyed the movie a lot, and not just the moments involving Xiao Zhan. It's an entertaining movie, you can see the efforts that went into the production and it has a lot to offer, especially visually. It's not without flaws, but accomplishes most of what it (presumably) set out to do. For people who don't like wuxia films: this won't convince you to like them. For people who are open to this genre: I think you'll find a lot to like or even love about this story of Guo Jing.

#肖战 #xiao zhan #LOCH #Legend of the Condor Heroes: the Gallants #Legend of the Condor Heroes #review #my post #i have no time to read for correction... I'll edit any mistakes later on 🥲

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california-112 · 1 month ago

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5, 14, 25 for end of year questions 👽👽

From this game

5 - TV show of the year?

You already KNOW it's TXF. Don't lie. I've only had those funky little FBI agents since August, but if anything happened to them I would [remembers some jokes only make my mental health worse] make a whole bunch of GIFs then write a six-chapter seasonal fic where they're both happy and get to have good time.

Look out for that over the next week or so!

Anyway yeah. The X Files. The show ever, I can't believe I waited this long to get into it, it's so good and so silly and occasionally very profound but more often just silly. And it has a great and active fandom that's getting bigger by the day! Yay!

(Aside: Everyone: Drop GIF requests if you have any! I need something to procrastinate on so the above six-chapter seasonal fic gets finished ^^' They may even get made next year!)

14 - Favorite book you read this year?

My favourite book that I actually finished would have to be Tempest Pilot by Jim Sheddan and Norman Franks. It's a memoir of Sheddan's career in the RNZAF during WW2, and let me tell you, this man was insane. All sorts of hilarious escapades, on and off duty, it's a brilliant read which cuts right to the bone in places. He was one of the first people, if not the first, to successfully ditch a Typhoon, and even then came away with pretty bad injuries. I highly reccommend it, particularly to anyone with an interest in the history of air side of WW2, or aviation in general :)

25 - Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one.

Oh, interesting! I've actually made quite a few minor characters across various stories/projects, but the favourite that comes to mind is as part of my main WIP: 'Maps' Mapleton.

Despite the nickname, his surname is pronounced as 'Maypul-tn'. He appears briefly as a reoccuring character during the immediately post-WW2 period of the project, a member of the squadron that my main character, Red, is temporarily attached to, and he acts sort of like a mentor. Here are some bits where he appears so far!

(Pspsps @hogans-heroes, some more snippets...)

Thank you for the asks, and Happy New Year! 🎆 :D

#these were so fun! thank you!#ask #x files #the x files #tempest pilot #jim sheddan #norman franks #rw #my writing

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melkintoyou · 2 years ago

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cos i met you at my favourite store: Prologue

pairing: mark x fem!reader

genre: a full story fic, lots of disgusting, tooth rotting, fluff! college au, mark is a music major not suitable for minors

Prologue

16:24 pm | A book store

"Visual Methodologies... Visual Metho.. Visu..." You lowly chanted to yourself in the Fine Art section, as you searched for a book on visual methodologies. With deadlines approaching, you needed to get this essay done before the Christmas break. You slipped your beanie off in frustration and stood there for a second, taking in a deep breath and recollecting your thoughts. You have always been an over thinker, a natural worrier. This fuelled a lot of your hardships but it made your focus really good. Which meant, you would never leave the store without this book, because that was your mission today.

Your eyes continued scanning the shelves in front of you as you sipped your iced caramel macchiato. Yes. Even in the winter, you refused to drink hot coffee. Something about coffee being cold that does the job for you, as opposed to hot. "Oh SHIT!" You exclaimed, a little too loud, gaining some eyes on you. It was right there. Big red book, staring right at you. You took a breath of relief, as you went on your tippy toes, trying to grab it. Unable to reach, you felt a little embarrassed as your cheeks started to feel warm.

Although, everyone went back to minding their own business. You felt a pair of eyes still on you from the side. You noticed a boy trying to hold back his smirk as he cleared his throat, bringing his closed fist to his mouth. 'He's laughing at me.' You think to yourself, before shooting him a death stare.

"Uh do you need some help?" He asked turning to you as he rubbed the back of his neck, shyly. You can't help but get distracted from the mission by his big brown eyes.

"Yeah, actually, if that's okay.." You stepped aside to let him get between you and the shelf, reaching for the big red book.

"Is this the one you after?" He gestured to pick it up for your approval and you gave him a nod.

"Thank you so much, honestly. That's one thing off my list." You gave him a smile and took the book from his hands. You thought you must be going crazy or maybe it was caffeine. But you swore, as your hands touched, ever so lightly, you felt something in your stomach. You bit down on your bottom lip to keep you from smiling and looked to the floor, now visibly shy.

"So.. visual art huh?" He made conversation. Moving back to his original spot. "Yeah, I'm an art major.. I'm paying the school to draw" You joked, deflecting your insecurities about the path you have chosen.

"No dude that's great, I'm doing music, so I guess we're in the same boat." You both laughed until the laughter died down. Leaving only the silence, and the thick air of attraction between you both. The boy smiled, slowly swinging backwards and forwards on his heels and toes. You eagerly looked at him, waiting for him to ask for your name, number or something!

"Hey so I-" Before he could finish his sentence, your phone rang.

"Nessie! I'm outside, we have 5 minutes to make it to this evening class. LETS GO!" Your best friend, Aliyah on the line rushed you as she waited outside.

"Oh shit, I.. I've got to go..sorry.. urm.. thank you so much. so nice to meet you" You quickly paid for your book and ran out the store, leaving the boy speechless, with a wave.

Fuck what was that?

_________________________________________

Chapter 1

#mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee x fem reader #nct dream #nct 127 #nct #nct fic #cos i met you at my favourite store

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tearitar · 1 month ago

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2024 WRITING REVIEW

tagged by @rolameny tagging @smaller-comfort, and anyone else that wants to.

number of stories posted to ao3: 20 this year! (223 in total… over a 15 year period, it was my ao3 acct’s 15th bday on dec 20!!)

word counted posted for last year: 90k-ish :P

fandoms i wrote for: destiny, team fortress 2, top gun

pairings: andal/cayde-6, spy/sniper (A LOT OF THAT), granby/kennedy

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: Most kudos and bookmarks were for thrifty, which I think is flattering! It's got a....high private bookmark count, lol. Happy Hour had the most comment threads, and that was a multi-chaptered fic so it makes sense. Happy Hour had some of my favorite thoughtful comments as well, lol.

work i’m most proud of (and why): I've talked enough about ARMSTOPPER so I'm going to say Off the Starboard Bow this time. I liked what past me started all those years ago and so it was really easy for 2024!me to swoop in and finish off the quick pwp part, lol. Rereading it, I love the tone and the banter, how easy it all the characters mesh together. There's not much worldbuilding involved but I like the sense of Laurence just... knowing people outside his usual circle. And that Granby sort of sees that.. oh. Most of the Navy isn't super stuck up, it's just Laurence that is so severe about it, LOL.

There should be more Hornblower and Temeraire crossovers! I think the double Williams and Archie/John Granby angle is SO CUTE and fun to do. The thought of Laurence having more buddies from the Navy (that are Bush and Hornblower) is pretty funny. You think aviators are weird? Buddy, he's been surrounded by weird people since day 1.

work i’m least proud of (and why): nah. I'm gonna riff off pell's answer and say that I'm quite happy to have posted anything at all. I don't think I've had a perfect execution on most of them but that's just something to think on for my next fics.

share or describe a favorite review you received: lol, i save a bunch of comments in my inbox so that I can go back to reread them whenever I'm feeling low about my writing, but there's a comment I specifically treasure--from a minific for the sniperspy collar fic. Like, it was one of the least expected comments since... idk. The ficlet was so short and silly, but the commenter really had an eagle eye and sense for what I was really trying to explore; implied kink discussion/negotiation, disguised as silly banter and jokes.

You know, I hope everyone gets to experience these golden comments where it has everything; the reader's favorite part in quotes, an opinion, a specific read/analysis that nails what was in your head, and then more points where you didn't consciously consider. (That makes you go "DID I WRITE THAT ON PURPOSE?") I think about their comment a lot and kick up my little feetsies every dang time.

a time when writing was really, really hard: on an 18 hour flight where I couldnt adjust the font size on my tablet so I think maybe some people behind me saw me writing fic. my bad.

more seriously, at the beginning of the year I was really struggling with some Top Gun, Bad Batch, and Master of the Air WIPs. My heart wasn't in it and I was forcing myself until April where I just sorta gave up and went into "I will write my Star Wars OCs" and even then I wasn't very happy.

Then! I read a couple of novels to get back into the groove of reading published works and it was refreshing.

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Aside from getting back into tf2 in general, not really? I guess I'll hand it off to just might come crashing. It's very................romantic. As romantic as I like sniperspy without setting myself on fire from sheer embarrassment. My idea of fluff for them is... just this.

a favourite excerpt of your writing:

“I'll stay if you'll have me,” Sniper says, undressing in the bathroom. He pokes his head out. “Daft fuck. I know what you're doing. You assumed I’d go out by my lonesome for two entire weeks. No people. No civilization. No showers.” “Yes.” Spy raises an eyebrow. “Since you were raised by wolves in a cave.” “Oi, show some respect for my parents,” Sniper says. “I'll have you know me mum’s a very lovely ‘roo. Raised me proper. In a pouch and everything.” “That does certainly explain many things,” Spy replies. Sniper steps out of the bathroom, naked but still sadly unshowered. He strides over to the bed and takes Spy by the chin, his hold firm. “I'm gonna spend the night with you ‘cause I wanna, alright?” Sniper says, leaning over him. His sharp-eyed look is back, the one Spy finds both dangerous and endearing. “You really thought I was gonna fuck off in the woods the whole time?” Spy doesn’t answer that particular question, at least not directly. Still, he feels as if he’s admitting something incriminating when he returns Sniper’s look. “I wouldn't be upset if you did.” The corner of Sniper’s mouth tics upwards. “You miserable shit,” Sniper says fondly. He drops his hand to turn back to the shower.

bruh... this part makes me blush. it's a confession without the explicit confession... I like it a lot. it's mostly dialogue but... there's a lot of teasing affection. being comfortable. i wrote an entire fic just to have context for this scene.

how did you grow as a writer last year: did you know.. did you know if you write 2-3k words consistently every week you can keep this up for 4 months because you kept in practice? wow. new concept alert. no one has ever thought of this i bet.

how do you hope to grow this year: get more deranged. stop being afraid of people younger than 24. they mean well when they say sigma.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): as always.............. spite. im so sorry to be so evil coded, but it's spite. I write when I'm not getting the themes and pwps I want so I write out of spite and anger, especially when I don't have my usual group of friends in the same fandom. This is why I struggled with MotA and Top Gun fics. I was eating so good there wasn't any need to cook for myself. u__u

On a more positive note!!!! I got back into sniperspy because of a fanart I saw for barter. :')

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year:

I’m always taking inspiration from real life but usually in an indirect or vague sense. Not a specific event. There are a few parts from ARMSTOPPER that I draw from irl knowledge that occasionally comes in handy when writing violence. TF2 lends itself to gory humor which is absolutely fine and dandy, and I like to play into it in a slapstick kind of way. I don’t often go beyond that. I’m definitely not writing medical/surgical jargon for free (and tbh it’s not entertaining writing if you do find yourself going into that much detail), nor do I feel compelled to write a story that has to do with work.

For instance, I would not write a surgery/hospital AU. I would not write about various insane items getting stuck up people's butts. Not an aux cord up someone's penis. Never about a penile fracture caused by someone riding cowgirl. You ever been called to work at 3am for this? It would not be fun. I would hate every second, and I actually enjoy my job, aside from the getting-called-at-3am part. :P

That being said, there’s a part in ARMSTOPPER where Spy describes amputating Engineer’s arm in a kind of romantic way—the physical description on how it feels is true to my own experience but obviously not the romance of it, LMAO. Then later when he sees the Gunslinger as a particularly gruesome weapon, those descriptions are meant to be off-putting. Those are real details that I've personally seen before. So that, I suppose, is my real life job bleeding (hehe) into my fics. I have helped cut off a lot of limbs in my career………………………. (dead stare)

I didn’t mean to get super into this question, but I pretty opinionated on this, lol.

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: god, the follow up to hindsight is kicking my ass. i've set it aside for now but I would to finish it in 2025, and not.. say.... in 2040. but who knows.

other current wips, for those curious:

psychological horror spycest

various stupid pwp fics (ie sniper in a maid outfit)

spy being mature(?!) about deescalating a coworker-with-benefits relationship, sniper about to throw up from having normal emotions about it

I have a feeling sas:rh s2 will kill me dead so I want to finish this fucked up Augustine/Paddy->Eoin(dead) situationship fic I've been noodling at for the better part of the past 8 months.

the fuckingnk... the fucking top gun... top gun mindbond fic. u__u

#writing meme #2024 in review #typans

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shipmistress9 · 7 months ago

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Made to Order - 5

Previous Chapter

AO3

The next few weeks fly by in a blur. At least three times a week, Violet stops by my shop, to see more samples of the flowers we make. It’s just an excuse of course, merely a justification to meet her again regularly, and I think she must have seen through it by now. But if she did, she never mentions it.

Her visits are never repetitive. Sometimes, she only stays for half an hour, her lunch break, and sometimes, she spends a good portion of her free day here. Sometimes, Liam is here as well and he jokes around, making all three of us laugh. Sometimes, it’s just the two of us, which makes the conversations softer, more real. Sometimes, she brings a book and reads, mostly when I’m busy finishing a cake in time, and she’s just content with being here. What always stays the same, though, is her generally good mood and the cup of hot chocolate I prepare for her without asking first by now.

We also talk a lot. Sometimes, I sit with her for a while, as long as I can afford it, and sometimes, we call through the entire shop when I’m preparing some dough or filing. We talk about everything, books and movies and music we enjoyed, things we despise, about things we experienced and things we dream of. I learn that she only recently returned from working abroad for six months, and I tell her of the time Liam played a prank on our father, making it seem like some evil creatures were messing with his paperwork.

And with every time I see her, I fall more for her. How could I not when she’s the smartest and funniest and just straight up most fucking brilliant woman I’ve ever met? When her smiles bewitch me time and time again, when her laughter is haunting me in my dreams. When my mind keeps wandering and wondering about what it would feel like to kiss her.

It’ll all end with her wedding day, but this is a truth I try not to think about too much. Which is easy as, aside from talking about the cake, neither of us ever brings it up.

. o O o .

“Okay, I’m ready,” Violet says, making herself comfortable in what by now became her place in my alcove sitting area. “I only had some vegetable sticks for lunch, and I’m starving.”

Chuckling, I place our usual cups of hot chocolate in front of her. “That’s a shame, really. If you just gulp down all the cakes then you won’t even know how they tasted.”

She wrinkles her nose, looking incredibly cute while doing so. “Guess I should show some restraint then. Or this whole tasting will have been for nothing.” She grins and I grin back on reflex. Interacting with her became so simple by now. Easy as breathing.

I leave her again to get the plate with the taste samples I prepared for her, and when I return, her eyes are growing wide.

“Oh, wow!” She stares literally with her mouth hanging open. “That’s… a lot of cake.”

I only allow myself a tiny smile at her reaction, even though inwardly, I’m grinning like an idiot. There are eight mini cakes on this plate, definitely more than I would usually choose for a tasting. But I long since gave up on pretending she’s just another customer. She is special to me, whether I want it or not. I keep reminding myself that she’ll marry in less than a month, but the words have lost their bite by now. As if they’re not real, just a dark cloud in the distance.

“Well, you only need to taste them all. Afterwards, I can help finish them off.” I hold up two cake forks.

Violet’s eyes gleam with mirth as she reaches for one, then glances down at the cakes in front of her. “Okay, these look absolutely delicious.” She pulls out a pen and a sheet of paper, a copy of the list she gave me a couple of weeks ago. “So, what are all of these?”

My lips twitch at how prepared she came. Violet, I’ve learned by now, is nothing if not organised. “I picked five variations directly from your list, those with the names behind them as I assume those are their favourites?” Violet nods. “Right so we have red velvet cake for Cianna,” I begin to explain, pointing at the according cake. “Black Forest cake for Dain, marzipan for Amber, vanilla strawberry for Nyra, and lemon cheesecake again for Dain.”

“That would be Dain’s father,” Violet explains, probably because she noticed my frown at her fiancé having two cakes on this list. “Dain Aetos senior.”

She wrinkles her nose again, more annoyed this time, and I stifle my comment about that man apparently being rather convinced of himself. Violet’s gaze switches to the other three cakes, then throws me a questioning look. “And what about these?”

“These are my additions. Not from the list but still some I think you should try. The first is a variation of the lemon cheesecake, with extra blueberries. Which elevates the taste immensely, in my opinion.” And adds a beautiful violet colour once the cake is cut, but I'm not saying that out loud. Instead, I point at the next slice. “This is chocolate cake. An old family recipe and a general customer favourite. And the last one… Well, let’s just say I have a gift of guessing which filling is someone’s favourite. And since this one wasn’t on the list, and you didn’t have a favourite there anyway, I thought you should try it.”

At that, Violet raises one eyebrow at me, but her lips quickly twitch back into a smile. “I’m already picking everything about the cake, so no need to put my favourite on the list when I can just choose what tastes best, anyway. Besides, who said mine isn’t among these already?”

I lift my hands in defeat. “Fair enough.”

She gives me another mockingly scrutinising glare, then turns her attention back to the cakes. “Well, then let’s get to it, then.”

She starts at the beginning with the red velvet cake, and I fight not to let it get to me as she moans at the feathery texture and taste, her eyes even fluttering shut in bliss. Fuck, I’ll never be able to get rid of this image again. “Oh, wow!” she exclaims. “This is… wow! I don’t know what to say. You really made this cake yourself?”

“Of course, I did.” I shake my head, snorting, even though I only have to act being offended a little bit. “What did you expect? That I run this shop just because I have nothing better to do?”

Her eyes fly open wide, and she almost chokes on the cake in her mouth. “No, that’s… I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t know. It didn��t really register that you’re a baker until now. Seems too ordinary for someone like you.”

I frown, about to ask what she means, but she already turned her attention to the next cake, so I let it slide.

This time, for the Black Forest cake, she doesn’t seem quite as convinced, though. “Something’s not right?” Did I mess something up?

But Violet shakes her head. “No, no, it’s fine. Perfect, I guess. I just really don’t like cherries in cakes. And I forgot for a hot second that those would be in there.”

I frown again, but this time, I don't swallow the question. “Why was it on the list when you don’t even like it?”

“It’s Dain’s favourite,” she shrugs, as if that’s a good enough excuse. Then she turns, somewhat talking to the cake directly. “But I’m sorry, Dainy-bear. You said I have free rein over the cake, so this is off the list.”

I press my lips together not to laugh out loud. Her antics are brilliant.

“I’m sorry,” Violet sighs. “I should have told you beforehand that I’m not the biggest fan of this cake. And…” She grimaces. “It’s even worse with marzipan. I’m sure your cake is amazing, but I hate marzipan.”

“That’s okay.” I let my own fork sink into the juicy cake. “Means there’s more for me.” And I mean it. I don’t mind that I made these cakes for nothing. I didn’t expect her to pick those, anyway.

That her Dain put them on the list regardless of her tastes is another matter. But I try to push my emotions down by reminding myself that she’s obviously happy and not troubled by her upcoming wedding anymore. If this is what she wants, then I really have no grounds to interfere.

The next couple of cakes are more to her taste again. According to her, the vanilla strawberry cake is delicious, though maybe a bit simple for a wedding cake, and I wholeheartedly agree. The lemon cheesecake seems to be her favourite so far, even though she’s visibly reluctant to agree with her future father-in-law despite him never knowing about it. And her little smirk when she cuts the lemon blueberry cheesecake tells me that she instantly made the connection about the colour.

“Okay, but these blueberries,” she mumbles with her mouth still half full of cake. “They really make a difference for the taste. The fresh sour aroma of the lemons with the sweet cheesecake is already so good, but combined with the fine acidness of the blueberry, it’s just perfect.”

Fighting my smirk, I accept that rational and perfectly accurate explanation for why, obviously, the version with blueberries is better.

“Okay, these were great.” Violet sighs contentedly, making a few notes onto her paper. “But what’s the deal with this chocolate cake?”

A sly smile tugs at my lips and I give her an offhanded shrug. “Give it a try.”

She throws me a bemused glance and I watch closely for her reaction as she puts the fork into her mouth. As her eyes widen as she chews, as she glances down with a puzzled frown and quickly takes another bite. This never gets old.

“By Amari,” she mutters. “This… this is….” She takes a third bite and lets out a sweet little moan that I’ll probably never get out of my head again. “This isn’t just a chocolate cake,” she exclaims, staring at me. “I mean… it is? But it’s by far the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had. It’s so… rich? Is that the word? How did you do that?”

My chest swells, at her praises but even more at her clear delight. “Sorry, can’t tell you that. As I said, it’s a recipe I learned from my grandma. A secret recipe.” I wink at her.

Violet snorts. “Okay, fair enough. But I get why this is a customer favourite. It’s fantastic.”

“It really is.” I take a bite for myself, and give myself a moment to just enjoy the taste. “It’s my favourite, too, by the way. So, does it make it onto your list?” I point at her paper.

When I look up, though, Violet is watching me with a weird expression on her face, but quickly turns her attention back to the cakes. “Ah, no, sadly not. It’s fantastic, but Dain isn’t a big fan of chocolate cake. I’ll just have to enjoy it while I can.” She takes another bite, a funny little smile playing around her lips.

She looks so damn pretty when she smiles.

I also take another bite. Apparently, we’re just finishing this cake off directly, and I’m certainly not complaining. “He doesn’t like chocolate cake? What does he think is the basis for Black Forest cake?” Is he one of those guys who's ‘too manly’ to enjoy something as simple as chocolate cake? If so, he’s an even bigger idiot than I thought.

“But it’s not pure chocolate cake?” Violet tries to explain, but then shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t know. There’s certainly more to Black Forest cake than just the chocolate. The cherries, for example.” She shudders.

Yep, her Dain is an idiot.

“Then he and all the guests will have to miss out on this cake. Their loss.”

“You’re not exactly suffering from a too small ego, are you?” She throws me another grin.

I snort. “When it comes to my grandma’s chocolate cake? Certainly not.” We exchange another look, then we both burst out laughing. It’s so easy to joke around with her, so simple. Natural, even.

“Okay, one cake left,” Violet eventually says, returning back on topic. “Will you tell me now what it is, at least? Or do I have to go into this one blind?” She eyes the last cake with the nondescript white frosting with a suspicious look.

I hum, pondering, but where’s the point in keeping her in the dark for a few more seconds? “It’s raspberry mascarpone.” I can’t even say what it is or how it works. But sometimes, I get these distinct impressions about which cake would fit someone. And so far, I never missed.

Violet suddenly goes very quiet, though. “Raspberry mascarpone?” she almost whispers, every hint of a smile wiped off her face as she gazes down at the cake.

Unusually tense at her sudden mood change, I watch her cut a piece, slowly, and bring it to her mouth. What’s up with her? Is there something wrong with this kind of cake? Did I make a mistake there? It even seems like her hand is trembling, too.

Violet chews quietly, her eyes vacant. Then her lower lip starts to tremble and a moment later, tears roll down her cheeks. “Ah, shoot. Sorry.” She quickly wipes them away. “That was…” She trails off, shaking her head.

“N-no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Even though I have no idea what just happened. “Is… everything okay?”

Violet sniffs, but a small smile returns to her face. “Yeah, it’s fine. I just… wasn’t expecting this.”

Chewing my lips, I ponder what to do. I know I probably should let it rest. But when have I ever listened to that voice of reason when it comes to her? “And what was it? If I may ask.”

She swallows, absentmindedly eating another bite. “It’s… my dad. He died when I was very young. I only have a few memories of him, but one of the most vivid ones is how he always used to make what he called desert breakfast on the Sundays my mum wasn’t home. Probably to distract us from thinking about where else she might be.”

Right, she’d mentioned she grew up in a military family.

“And this is what he always made for me. Raspberries with mascarpone. Not in a fancy cake like this, but… it tasted just like this.” She sniffles again, but with a smile this time. “So you really don’t have to apologise. In fact, I should be thanking you—” she laughs, short but true. “—for essentially giving me a Ratatouille moment.”

“Well, I guess you’re welcome then,” I reply, trying to ignore how my heart is brimming with happiness for her. “So, which one would you like for your big cake?” I ask to change the topic back to something more sober. For her and for my sake alike. “The raspberry mascarpone then?”

Violet takes a moment to think about it, but then shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. This is… I don’t know. Too personal for this huge event.”

I nod, understanding, even though this again makes me resent her Dain. Her wedding day should be special, dammit. Having this cake as a reminder of her dead father could be a comfort, maybe a way of having him there with her. But instead, it seems like she doesn’t really care much about their big party at all, this memory of her father too precious to sully it with this show of appearance.

“I think…” Her gaze roams over the other cakes. “I think the lemon cheesecake is the best choice. Also, this will make the Colonel happy, that the cake he so graciously pays for is exactly to his liking. Now, do we use the version with or without the blueberries?” She ponders, eating another piece from each cake.

I hesitate, but ultimately can’t hold back. “If I may make a suggestion?”

“Sure!” She looks up at me expectantly, her usual happy smile back on her face. I’m happy to see it again, but equally happy that I got to see her tears, as well. That she opened up to me.

I quickly focus on the cakes again. “If you pick the one with blueberries, it would also fit the decoration. You and Liam decided on purple orchids as the highlights, right?”

“Yes!” Violet straightens. “Do you think he could match the colour to this blueberry cake?”

“He’d be offended you even asked that,” I snort. “Well, since I’ll be making the cake after he makes the flowers, the hue would vary, I guess. But normal people wouldn’t notice much of a difference.”

Violet giggles; Liam’s and my squabbling is always good to make her laugh. “Then that’s settled. Lemon blueberry cheesecake it is.”

“Perfect!” I don’t need to put this into her order form, not directly, at least. As if I would forget anything when it comes to her. As if I could…

We finish off the cakes, talking about this and that again. I take over the marzipan, leaving the Black Forest cake for when Liam comes home from his classes tonight. Meanwhile, Violet visibly enjoys her raspberry mascarpone cake, and I make a mental note to always have at least some tartlets with this filling conveniently lying around for her. She deserves a treat for all the crap her fiancé puts her through.

“Mmmhh, I really could get used to this,” she sighs as we share the other cakes. “Not for every day, or I won’t fit into my dress anymore. Let alone any other clothes.” She chuckles. “But just… getting to eat such delicious cakes every now and then, just because and without any special occasion.”

“You’re welcome to stop by anytime you want, you know?” I lean forward for a piece of chocolate cake, the one closest to her, but this time do not retreat.

Shit, am I flirting with her? I shouldn’t be doing that. But I also shouldn’t have said that in the first place. It’s too big an opening for her to worm her way deeper into my life. And yet, I don’t regret it. I know it’s stupid, but I want her to stop by, to keep stopping by even after her wedding.

“Maybe I will,” Violet hums, smiling in a way that’s hard to interpret. “Just to get more of these delicious treats.” She mimics me, picking some of the red velvet cake and not leaning back again.

“Not that I would prepare those for you specifically,” I lie. “Just to use up any left-overs.”

“Of course,” she smirks, as if seeing right through me. “But I don’t mind any left-overs if they taste like this.”

She manoeuvres another piece of strawberry cake into her mouth, and I’m having a hard time looking away. Fuck me, that mouth. In an attempt to regain at least some composure, I get some more cake on my fort as well, no idea which one I picked, and aim for my mouth without taking my eyes off her—and miss spectacularly. There’s enough on my lips to know it was the lemon cheesecake, but most of it landed right next to my mouth, right in my face.

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the absurdity of the moment feeling like time has stopped. And then we burst out laughing. I should probably feel embarrassed and there’s a hit of it, too, in a distant corner of my mind. But how could I feel bad about something that makes her laugh so beautifully, makes her eyes sparkle like this.

“Just great,” I snort, reaching for a napkin. “How to make an utter fool of yourself without even saying one word.”

“At least the mouth was involved.” Violet watches me clean up, her mouth hidden behind her conveniently placed hand. “But I don’t know about the utter fool. Some could say it’s endearing, not being perfect all the time.” Her eyes gleam with mirth, and I snort, shaking my head at her.

She doesn’t mean it, not like that. She can’t.

I put the napkin down, fighting to keep my thoughts straight. “I’m far from perfect. Right now, I’m trying to think of something to say to save my dignity, and come up entirely empty.”

She chuckles. “No matter what you say, with that bit of frosting still on your face, your dignity is screwed.”

I really am making a fool of myself. “I missed something? Shit.” I reach for another napkin, but she beats me to it, standing up to lean over and bring her hand to my face.

“Yeah, right here.”

With her palm on my cheek, her thumb wipes at a spot right below the corner of my mouth. And I freeze. Her touch, while soft, sends a shock through my body, so much more intense than that first little brush of fingers so many weeks ago. I can’t breathe, can only stare at her face, so much closer to mine than ever before. I gaze into her eyes, even prettier from up close if that’s possible, seeing the equal surprise about our sudden proximity mirrored there. Inhale her surprisingly floral scent, as if it’s trying to make good on her name. If I only do so much as lean in a tiny bit, I could kiss her, and right now, I don’t know whether I have the strength to pull away.

Without my help, my eyes drop down to her lips, shimmering with that pearly sheen, and my own lips part on their own accord. My heart’s beating like a riot of dragon wings, my breathing shallow and quick, and if my senses don’t betray me completely, she fares little better. Letting out the tiniest of sweet noises, Violet’s eyes fall closed and she leans in even further.

And I can’t fight it anymore.

I move to breach the last distance between us, to surrender to my failure and give in to what I desire most—when a tiny light startles me. I don’t know where it came from, maybe a car driving by and throwing a random ray of late sunshine into my shop. Only to get caught and reflected on her hand.

On the stone in her cheap engagement ring.

Sucking in a harsh breath, I pull back, all but jumping out of my seat. Getting as far away from her, from the temptation, as possible.

“I-I’m sorry,” I gasp, looking anywhere but at her. “That was…”

But I don’t get to finish the sentence. Because before I can utter even one more word, Violet runs out of the shop, the door falling shut behind her.

. o O o .

AN: Uh oh... That was close... 😶

I'm not entirely sure yet whether the end of this story fits into one chapter or whether it's goign to end up getting split again. Knowing me probably the latter. 😅 On another note, I have Violet's backstory about what happens here loosely written out. Should I add it at the end, maybe as an epilogue where the tells Xaden about it? 🤔

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#riorgail #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fanfiction #Bakery AU #Modern AU #fluff #Baker!Xaden #the empyrean #rebecca yarros

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