#but v had already put the cards on the table and it only served to push him farther because of course he did good
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Act I Scene V
“Now we’re talking! Finally some good shit.”
John Rocket slammed his mug down on their makeshift table, wiping the foam from his stubble with a massive forearm before sliding the cup over the table into the waiting hands of Kite Wisterly. She giggled, taking the mug and spinning on her heels to pour another ale out of the cask they’d swiped as a reward for their fifth successful intel mission complete. They’d just set up camp for the night, crates and logs forming their furniture around a crackling fire. It had been almost a little anticlimactic, how smoothly everything had gone, but perhaps that was just a sign of their team beginning to click.
They were certainly an odd bunch, but then again, so had been everyone recruited by Styx for the Nyx Initiative. It had taken some adjusting to get to know one another’s strengths and weaknesses, but after almost a year of training together as a team they were finally moving like a well oiled machine.
“What about you, Z?” Kite asked as Rocket took his now full mug back with a rumble of thanks.
“Nope,” the stoic woman replied, not opening her eyes from where she leaned back in a tilted chair, cigar lazily rolling between her lips.
“If you’re offering, love, I’ll take another,” piped up a fox beastman tapping away at an encrypted tablet beside Z. Kite rolled her eyes but acquiesced, miming spitting in his mug and making Rocket laugh. With Caesar Cotter served, Kite poured herself a mug. Generally her tastes preferred a more delicate brew, but hey, when in the field one couldn’t get picky, could they? As her ale pulled to a head, she tilted the cask, judging what remained inside.
“We’re just about finished. Where’s the captain?” Kite asked.
“Ara doesn’t drink,” Caesar replied, flicking his gaze up from the tablet.
“Does sometimes,” Z interjected, flicking her ash onto Caesar’s tail and getting the chair beneath her kicked as a result.
“Very well, she doesn’t drink on missions,” Caesar amended as he dodged a retributionary swat, putting the tablet down and stretching. Still…it was unusual for her to disappear without saying something.
“She’s a big girl, don’t worry about it,” Rocket grunted, “Cotter, pass those cards over and stop working. Reports can wait until extraction tomorrow.”
“Can they? We’re still in enemy territory, you know. If our throats are slit in the night however will Styx get their intelligence? I hear those soldier slaves they breed here are no joke.” Caesar obeyed nonetheless, grabbing the cards and coming over as Kite cheered happily. She flashed hopeful eyes at Z until the woman groaned and stubbed out her cigar, coming over to join as well.
“One game, then we track down the boss,” she said, settling on her seat and picking up the cards Rocket dealt her.
“Yeah, yeah. Kite, slide that keg over so we can top off.”
Soon a jumble of coins, gum, cigarettes and other detritus had filled the center of the table, Rocket was dealing the third game, and Ara still had not returned.
She was in the belly of the beast.
Her every sense was on fire, screaming at her to flee. The smell of the cold tunnel walls, the sound of creatures skittering in the dark, the taste of her own fear on her tongue…it was all Ara could do to keep moving forward.
Because she had to. She had to. It had already been so long. There was as good a chance that Rat was dead as alive. In fact, Ara had been trying the whole mission to convince herself he was dead. If she believed it first, she might fool herself into thinking the despair would hurt less when it was confirmed.
The hive tunnels were still. She had passed only three hivechildren since entering her old hive, two busy rutting in a corner and one skittering down a tight tunnel with blood on his hands. Few hivechildren roamed at night, knowing the dangers that awaited them if they did. The guards, Ara found, followed the same pattern they had when she’d been there. There was no reason to change them, she supposed.
Hivechildren did not escape.
As she tread deeper, Ara was heavy with the knowledge that she too had never technically escaped. She’d been dragged away by the underground river, half drowned and rescued only by magic. That had been luck, perhaps a blessing, but no escape. The further Ara walked in, the louder hissed the voice that said she would not be able to claw her way back out again.
The voice sounded like Thorn.
If she met him, Ara knew she’d have to kill him. If Rat was dead, she would kill Thorn regardless. A part of her wanted to hunt him down first, see the look on his face when he realized she had lived and come to claim retribution. But Ara also knew it would not be an easy fight, and she wouldn’t risk blowing her cover unless she could accept that it might be the last thing she’d do.
She was coming up to the central barracks, a curling room with hundreds of cells that housed the hivechildren. Their whispers and soft breathing echoed like waves lapping on a pebbled shore. Somewhere, someone was sobbing. Ara felt her chest tighten, and she had to stop until she could breathe again.
She had left most of her clothing at the mouth of the air shaft she’d used to break back into the hives. Stripped to her underthings, barefoot and rubbed with dirt, Ara knew she would still stand out from her kin if anyone looked closely at her. Over her time at Night Raven College, she had gained weight and muscle, too healthy to pass as a hivechild. She only hoped her slim disguise would get her far enough.
On silent feet, Ara moved through the shadows. Slowly she climbed the spiraling walkway, passing the open mouths of cells with a carefully confident gate. She belonged here, Ara told herself, she was one of them.
At last, Ara reached Rat’s cell. She hesitated, hovering beside the edge. She could hear breathing from inside, but not well enough to know if it was Rat. Fear of what she would find kept her frozen, unable to step forward and face the truth. Then, from the cell, came a whispered voice.
“G-g-go away…I d-d-don’t have any m-more t-t-tokens…I d-d-don’t have anything…”
Ara let out a long breath, then without moving into sight, she whispered back.
“Rat. It’s me.”
–
It was silent in the Styx extraction sub. They’d made the pick up effortlessly, filing their gear and bodies into the waiting mouth in less than ten minutes. There were no witnesses, no evidence left behind. All things considered, their mission had gone seamlessly.
But they were leaving with one more body than they had come with.
The boy’s name was Rat, which Caesar had countered was not much of a name at all before Ara silenced him with a sharp glare. None of them understood where he had come from. Ara did not talk about her past, beyond that she had come from this continent and that she was something called a ‘hivechild’. Presumably so was this boy, though he and Ara could not have been more different.
If they had questions or protests, none were voiced. Ara rarely demanded the obedience she was entitled to as lead of their small team, but when she did, it was absolute. Caesar could only assume that the boy had been a secret part of their mission only divulged to Ara, though Rocket suspected she had gone for him without the permission of their benefactors.
Regardless, none of them were about to argue against taking him with. The kid looked like shit. He had one bruised and swollen eye and was favoring his right leg, the bones in his arms jutting out around lean muscle. Before arriving at camp he must have washed in a river, because he had shown up dripping and shivering, very much indeed like a rat that had leapt from a sinking ship. Ara had forced him to pace himself, but he hadn’t stopped eating since she’d introduced him, slowly working his way through Ara’s remaining rations and one of Kite’s that the girl had offered him. They may have been skeptical, but they weren’t monsters.
“Hey. Do you need a sweater? Cold?” Caesar was presently trying to mime to the boy, rubbing his hands over his arms and speaking slowly.
“He can understand you,” Ara answered coolly, Rat flicking his gaze up to her before back to Caesar’s feet.
“And how should I know that?” Caesar huffed poutily, even as he dug into his bag for his spare sweater. He held it out, giving it a shake when Rat didn’t reach for it. He waited for Ara to nod and only then took it, quickly pulling it over his head and giving a soft gasp of relief at the warmth. Kite watched his all from where she was curled against Z’s thigh, eyes slightly narrowed in a catlike contentment.
“Almost home kids,” Rocket called back from the pilot’s seat, where he was lazily watching the auto-pilot guide them back to Styx. Caesar noted Ara’s shoulder’s falling in the slightest betrayal of relief. He tutted his tongue, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
That was trouble he wanted no part of.
#in which ara goes back for rat#and we meet some new characters#i love the crew they are characters that have followed me through many timelines#What is the Nyx Initiative? How did Ara become captain of an infiltration team?#all questions that will be answered in time#ideally i would be posting these chronologically but muse don't be like that#blithes ocs: the crew#blithes ocs: ara#blithes ocs: Rat
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The Child Manuela: Mädchen in Uniform book (new translation)
CHAPTER 1: V
For more parts (updates are at least once a week), click #The Child Manuela translation
The children are sent to bed earlier than usual today. Mother's bedroom is a ladies' dressing room. There stands the washerwoman in her Sunday dress. And at Dad's, the gentlemen take off outer clothes. It's cold outside, and the spurs of the gentlemen clink on the stairs. Two servants have been hired. They pour red and golden yellow wine into glass decanters. Lela creeps to the door and peers out. The table looks like a fairytale. Candles are burning in the silver candlesticks, many flowers are scattered on the table, without any water. The candlelight makes stars in the polished glasses and makes them glitter. The servants put on gloves and agree among themselves how they will serve. They have to start where the commander's wife is sitting, and then go to the next highest lady and lastly to mother. Why last to Mother? That offended Lela.
On each seat there is a card with the name of the person who should sit there. Dad smoked two fat cigars until he'd finished the table order, and Mum was very angry; because they were the guests' cigars, and Dad said that if he worked for the guests, he deserved the cigars, and Mum didn't say that she worked for the guests all day and the day before and the whole week and ate only fried potatoes and fried eggs in the evenings. Mum never says anything when Dad answers in a certain tone. And Dad doesn't seem to be happy at all, he usually slams the door very loudly.
The guests spoke very little at first when they sat down. From her cot, Lela heard clinking of the many soup spoons and only individual voices. Then the soup was served. Only gradually did a conversation get going; towards the end there was a huge noise that flared up terribly when the servants opened the door.
Lela waited eagerly, for now Dad's horse-boy would come and bring Karl and her some of the sweet food. he brought a whole pile of pink spun sugar. It looked like a fairy tale. Ice cream, yellow ice cream with a strange taste. Karl knelt on the floor next to her bed and held a plate for her. She stood up in bed and was happy about the high edge. Only a little light from the corridor filtered in.
"What does this taste like, Karl?"
"This is Maskino," said Karl, and then he came back on tiptoes again and terribly secretly, brought her a thin tall glass.
As she was about to drink, something tingled her nose.
"What's that, Karl?"
"Champagne."
And Lela drank.
Then Karl crept out quietly, carefully looking to the right and left to make sure he hadn't been seen. One was safe from the madam, but Fräulein Anna would probably have not have approved of such a thing either.
Suddenly, there was a huge noise in the dining room. Chairs were moved away, everybody wished aloud a blessed meal and, red-faced, heated and relieved, they pushed up the stairs to the mocha coffee, the good cigars, and the colourful bottles of liqueur.
Frau Käte smiled at everyone and felt as if she had won a battle and survived unwounded. Meinhardis was already a little loud, but he was patted on the shoulder, "Good Meinhardis, what the jokes he tells, a charming man!
Lela is fast asleep after the guests went upstairs. Later, carriages drove up and all kinds of strange servants came in, to fetch their masters. One after the other said goodbye with polite thanks. Also Frau Käte has laid down dead tired. Only Meinhardis continued sitting with a pair of gentlemen. The empty bottles have grown into batteries and the ashtrays are filled to the brim. But it's so cosy. Now it's just right. Now one is among equal ones, and everybody can tell one another what they want. As always one can't get away from horses and women. Meinhardis has nice things to say about about Frau Käte and he smiles in addition.
Lela is fast asleep when the door opens quietly. She doesn't wake up at all when Dad takes her out of bed and carries her up together with the duvet. All of a sudden, she sees all these handsome gentlemen in green uniforms and red collars smiling at her.
One takes her on his lap. Lela pulls her bare little feet under her, she rubs her eyes, and everybody laughes. She sits on the lap of Captain Sellner, she knows him, she likes him, he has a very beautiful face.
"Give me a kiss," Sellner says, and Lela does.
But why are the others laughing so much? Now they all want a kiss, but Lela doesn't want any more. "No, the others don't," Lela explains.
Mum has a migraine in the morning. It must be very quiet. But Dad brings a bunch of violets at noon, and Mum has to smile about it; although she has such a terrible headache.
#The Child Manuela#Das Mädchen Manuela#Mädchen in Uniform#Madchen in Uniform#Christa Winsloe#The Child Manuela translation#Christa's museum
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Mad
[MASTER LIST]
Beta: @fluffy-fluffu
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader x V
Genre: SMUT, mature, angst, fluff, mystery, thriller
Words: 4.9k
WARNINGS & TRIGGERS: psych ward in a mental asylum from back in the 1920’s, misguided medical practices; Electroshock therapy etc. Multiple personality disorder/alter ego’s/Dissociative Identity Disorder, Sex, Dirty Talk, Masturbation, Fingering, Exhibitionism, Voyuerism, blow jobs, Yandere V. If you squint for a split second there is like a slight hesitation in the reader but they consent. Nurse sleeps with the patient. Sad boy Tae, Tae vs. V, Talks about cum, Restraints, Sedation.
Summary: Taehyung from room 10 on the ward is being haunted by V a mischievous sexual deviant. Taehyung likes puzzles and his friends which includes you. But V likes you, your hair, your face and the warmth between your thighs. It’s a fight between Taehyung and V who will win?
Authors note: This is in no way shape of form a diagnosis of DID or multiple personalities nor is it an accurate depiction of said mental disorders or illnesses. This is purely fictional. If you are triggered by old medical horror please don’t read. If you identify anything you think should be added to the warnings and triggers let me know so I can warn others.
“The patients on this ward are docile, they won’t hurt you” the nurse explained, smiling softly. It was your first day, you were a fresh new nurse and it was safe to say you were a little scared of your new working environment. “The only one we want you to look out for is um, the patient in room number 10”
“Number 10?” you repeated.
“Let me introduce you to some of them.” You had already met some, there was a group who thought they were kittens and puppies and it was adorable. “Hyuka, don’t scratch the mattress” the head nurse chided before guiding him to the bathroom.
You heard a noise from room 10. It sounded a lot like something fell. You walked over and quickly scanned over his chart. “Patient is manipulative, he can do whatever is needed to get what he wants, compulsive sexual behaviour, the patient has two prominent altering personalities, Taehyung and V. When the patient addresses himself as V it is best to leave.”
You unlocked the door, peering inside you saw him cuddling his pillow in deep slumber. He seemed to have knocked something off from the bedside table in his sleep. You sighed softly before walking over, trying not to wake him while doing so.
He had a beautiful face. It was honestly making you feel self conscious to be around him, you fought the urge to brush your hand through his soft curls and crouched down to pick the book up off the floor.
You stayed crouched whilst examining the book. It seemed to be a comic book you concluded, a famous one that you knew of. You moved to put it back to its original place. As you were about to stand you turned to the patient to see his eyes open, staring directly at you.
“Hello?” He yawned rubbing his eyes “I am Taehyung”
“Hello Taehyung, I was just picking up your book, how are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m tired, who are you?”
“I am the new nurse” you smiled as he sat up rubbing his hand over his arm casually scratching an itch.
“You are new, that’s exciting” he smiled sitting up properly on his hospital bed showing his impeccable manners “What’s your name?”
“My name is Nurse Y/L/N,” you said with a soft smile trying to appear friendly. From the hall you heard the head nurse call out.
“Kim Namjoon, please don’t try to escape this morning. We are about to serve breakfast okay? You know breakfast is important to fuel that big brain of yours, so sit back down while I will get you a book. How does that sound?”
You turned to look at the door which was still a fraction open, when a hand touched your hair. Your body went stiff, heart racing in fear. You had turned your back on him. One of the most important things to remember on your first day and you had to let him get the upper hand.
“Your hair is really pretty, I like the colour” he smiled and you turned, giving him a polite and gentle smile.
“Thank you Taehyung, you are so sweet” you smiled. “Are you hungry? I can bring your breakfast in, if you would like?”
“I have to shower first, I have a schedule; shower, breakfast and then I get to do some activities” he said
“Nurse y/n?” The head nurse said “is everything okay?”
“Yes of course Taehyung and I are just talking, he is telling me about his schedule” you smiled
“Well aren’t you nice this morning Taehyung,”
“Hello Taehyung, are you ready for your shower?'' the male nurse appeared at the door smiling. Stepping past you he uncuffed the patient's ankle chain that restrained him to the bed, there was raw skin where the metal dug into his flesh and some blood stains on the corner of the sheet.
“You must be the new nurse. I am Jihoon, a resident nurse on the ward, if you need any help, or there is something you're not comfortable with you can call me,” he grinned, shaking your hand. You thought you heard Taehyung scoff which made you blink up at him curiously. You shrugged it off thinking maybe it was all in your head.
“My name is Y/n,” you prompted yourself to move on, “it’s nice to meet you”
“Nurse Y/n, could you get some spare clothes and bring them back?” Jihoon asked softly, “Tae’s clothes are in the green cube on the shelf.”
You went along the corridor and found the cubed shelves. Each cube seemed to have a coloured basket, the green one had Kim Taehyung written on it. “Hello?” A voice called behind you, you turned to see two young men sitting playing cards at a table.
“Hello, my name is nurse y/n, What are your names?”
“My name is Hoseok” the man laughed
“And I am Jungkook-ah” the other said sweetly “we are roommates, will you sit with us at lunch?”
“I will have to see if I am allowed. I don’t want to get in trouble,” you grinned before waving and heading back to Taehyung’s room where you heard the sound of banter coming from the bathroom.
“You don’t want to miss breakfast,” Jihoon said standing in the doorway, keeping a lookout for any sudden movements. “Oh Y/n! Thanks, you can leave the clothes anywhere”
You took it upon yourself to make the bed and tried to disregard the blood and other intimate stains on the white sheets. You looked up and caught sight of Taehyung in the reflection of the mirror, he was watching you. His eyes were not wide with curiosity as you thought it would be, no rather they were hooded with something darker.
“Nurse Jihoon, I am almost finished with my shower” he moaned, still staring at your reflection, you saw how his arm shook and how his lips fell open in ecstasy. “I just have to finish this, it would be quicker if it wasn’t my own hand for a change”
Once the bed was made you ran off into the hall trying to ignore the sounds and clear the images from your head.
You helped serve breakfast and smiled sitting with the two young men from earlier. The nurse who showed you around had approved of the two boys, saying they were harmless. She did however have a bit of a laugh, “this one is Hoseok and that one isn’t Jungkook, his name is Jimin, they are roommates one has narcolepsy and the other is a pathological liar”
You sat down, talking with them about their card game and laughed at some of their jokes. Jimin promised you the world and told you sweet nothings. He even proposed to you several times, you concluded he was a shameless flirt.
“Hey Jiminie?” Taehyung said walking over, and brushing his fingers along Jimin's neck, “you want to play a game of cards?”
“I can't, I have to go to a photoshoot today.” He said before standing up, “I should get ready.”
“What a shame, maybe next time?” He smirked. The boy across the table started to draw frantically. You looked over and saw it was a general shape and the clothes and hair were that of Taehyungs but the face was distorted. You hummed at the boy's work.
“Nurse, the young ones are going to play outside.” The head nurse in charge of this ward announced, eyeing Taehyung carefully. “Would you be so kind as to watch over them? Please make sure they don’t eat anything strange.”
“Of course. I will be back in a little while,” You told the boys, they were so cute, it was like playing make believe but there was no turning it off. They really thought they were cats and dogs and you loved them already despite it only being your first day. You wanted to protect them while they were in this headspace no matter what.
Looking up at the second floor of the hospital you saw Taehyung pressed against the glass looking down at you. He seemed to be angry at the fact that you were playing with the boys. You saw him get dragged away from the glass and you could not help but feel concerned, hoping he hadn’t gotten hurt.
You didn’t see him for the rest of the day he had been confined to his room and when you walked past all you could hear was crying and begging. You went to open the door but Jungkook, the silent patient grabbed your wrist gently. He handed you two sketches one was labeled Taehyung and it was him smiling and looking happy and genuinely adorable. The other was labeled V and it was the distorted picture from the morning. You flicked through the rest of the book and saw the others drawn, they looked a little different from real life but you knew who was who. The five young boys were drawn as cats and dogs making you smile.
The next day started a little differently, your shift started at lunch and you saw Taehyung sitting at the table looking forlorn, he was bandaged and looked weak. “They sedated him yesterday”,one of the nurses gossiped, “apparently he was trying to come onto one of the nurses working yesterday”
“I wish it was me, I would let him do whatever he wants,” Another nurse whispered back, you ignored them as you walked over and smiled “Good afternoon, how are you all feeling today?”
“Nurse y/n! You are here” Namjoon said, “Tell me, do you have any books to read at home?”
“I have a small bookshelf, why?”
“Well, I am bored and I would like some more books to read” He said and you hummed, “How about instead I tell you a story little by little so you have things to think about throughout the day?”
He reluctantly accepted and you started the story. There was a small giggle at one of the jokes made by Taehyung and you smiled, he looked so tired and soft in his little blanket, his wrists and ankles bandaged.
You were there for a while and the group began playing different card games, you had to explain some of the games and they picked up the concept quickly.
Taehyung left after a while, yawning while stating he was too tired to continue playing and the boys waved goodbye to him.
Jimin who just yesterday was afraid of him, walked him to his room, practically carrying Taehyung on his back while singing that they were soulmates.
It was odd because Taehyung didn’t seem that strange and when he did it wasn’t as extreme as people made it out to be. You had noticed Taehyung was a sweet boy, whilst V was just a little more forward and flirty.
Sure he still had his tendencies to do inappropriate things but you tried to ignore those moments and be professional at all times.
The problem was they began haunting you at night and you were finding it hard to keep your fantasies at bay. He was charming, flirty, and pleasing to the eye, could you really be blamed for being attracted to him?
The first time you met V and you mean really met V was when you were greeting him one morning and he sat there smirking at you.
“Hey there bad kitty, you want some milk?” He had his hand wrapped around his hard shaft. It was thick and the tip was an angry red, oozing out precum. “I want to give you all my milk, but you're a bad kitty and won’t take it”
You tried repressing the images from your head, squeezing your thighs together for some sort of friction, nothing has ever aroused you and made you this wet so quickly. Ignoring him as he jerked off on the bed you continued your act of nonchalance at his actions. You picked up his clothes off the floor and placed them in the wash basket.
You dodged his hand reaching out to grab you and he frowned before going back to his previous task. You cleaned his bedside table, he was becoming very vocal and more profoundly dirty as time went on. He had resorted to explaining everything about what he wanted to do to you in great detail.
Your underwear was soaked at this point and you were finding it hard to breath. You had to leave right then, you didn't know how long you could remain professional. You moved to pick up the book that had fallen off the bed, losing focus of your distance from the bed. You were briskly reminded when he took a firm grip of your hair.
Fuck.
You cursed at yourself, you made a huge mistake letting your guard down. Stupid stupid stupid. He pulled you up by your hair. “Open your mouth.” He growled as he came on your face. You watched him as his face contorted he growled and came hard as you kept your mouth firmly shut. When he finally finished he let go of your hair.
“You wasted my milk bad kitty” he huffed watching you clean your face in the sink before you promptly rushed out of his room.
Taehyung sat confused after breakfast. He took a puzzle and started working, “You okay Tae?”
“Oh hey, yeah I am just working on this puzzle, I am just a little confused” he smiled as the two of you sat and started working on the puzzle. It was a basket of kittens.
“This one looks like you” he laughed “you are a kitty”
The words and context were so innocent but you couldn’t help but remember what happened that morning and you glanced at the young man from the corner of your eye.
“What did he do?” Taehyung asked
“It was nothing you should be worried about” you smiled patting his head. “We should only worry about finishing this puzzle”
The night shift was different, you ate dinner with the residence and you all sat and watched a movie afterwards. It was a general audience movie with nothing bad in it.
Taehyung leant his head on your shoulder as everyone else including the other nurses sat watching the movie as well. The male nurse was sitting with the five young boys. They laid their heads in his laps and he gave them pets on their backs, trying to give all of them equal attention, otherwise one would whine and rub their heads into his arms.
The female nurse sat with Namjoon painstakingly discussing the movie instead of actually watching it. You and Taehyung were wrapped up in his blanket and you felt his hand start slithering down towards one of your thighs rubbing it tenderly. You glanced at him to see him smirking at you, “You’re such a bad kitty aren’t you?”
His hand slipped under your dress and into your underwear. His finger grazed your clit gently making you shift in your seat. Taehyung snickered as you bit back a moan, he moved inconspicuously a little closer and whispered in your ear. His voice was deep and barely audible, his breath brushing the shell of your ear.
“You are a bad kitty aren’t you?” He pressed his nose against your neck and inhaled deeply, “Bad kitty smells nice”
Your mouth fell open, a silent gasp escaping as he pushed a single digit inside of you, “Taehyung, stop” You warned him and he chuckled darkly.
“I am not Taehyung, I am V” He took your free hand under the blanket and brushed it against his dick, letting out a small satisfied moan. He tried to pry your fingers open but you refused, he growled lowly and pushed another digit inside you. Whilst you were distracted he slid himself into your closed fist letting it mould around his shaft.
Unintentionally your fingers clenched around his boner as he gently guided your hand along his length back and forth. You kept your mouth firmly shut but it didn’t seem to stop the feelings from building, you were panting softly, the wet sounds coming from between your legs becoming more audible to you and you sighed in relief when you sawa loud action scene was underway in the movie.
He pumped his fingers and moved your hand faster as his breathing became sporadic. V turned to you, biting your shoulder hard and coming into your hand. Without hesitation V pressed his thumb against your clit as he pumped his finger into you harder and you came, your body almost doubling over in pleasure.
“You are a bad kitty” He grinned, pushing your hand to your mouth “Lick your milk.”
“No,” You muttered seemingly uninterested and his smile disappeared.
“Bad, bad kitty” He watched as you got up and left.
As the days passed you understood more and more the difference between Taehyung and his counterpart V. You loved Taehyung, he was such a sweet boy who could do no wrong, but, you longed for the thrill of V, it took everything in your power to refuse his advances.
An easy way to establish who you were talking to was their nicknames for you, Taehyung called you a Kitty after that fateful day of doing a puzzle together. Whereas V called you Bad Kitty for reasons unknown.
One day during the night shift you heard Taehyung crying. Stepping into the room you saw how he wiped his eyes quickly, feigning that he was okay. “Hey, Taehyung, tell me what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing please, you can go?” He sniffled, choosing to ignore his request you got closer and sat on the edge of his bed concerned.
“I am here now, I want to know what has got you so upset?”
He looked up at you innocently. The bedside lamp was his only source of light and it was quite dull. It made the room feel small as the shadows waited on the edge.
“I remember less and less, V is taking over and I can’t remember things, the boys sometimes get really nervous with me, Jungkook’s pictures are horrific.” He sniffed, “I have never been with a lady, let alone kissed someone and he has done such vulgar things”
You leaned over and kissed him before leaning back and smiling softly, “You have kissed a girl now”
He was frozen, fingers slowly pressing to his lips in shock, “Wait, nurse can I um, can you kiss me again a real kiss, I want to know what it feels like”
You knew you shouldn’t have but you let him. Yet you kissed him and he kissed back, it was soft and timid. He pulled back, “That was amazing, if I was just a normal person. Would there be a chance that you would ever like me, Kitty?”
“I would.” You smiled brushing his hair back and smiling at the innocence in his eyes.
“Would you let me take you out to dinner?” He asked softly, you nodded “Would you let me kiss you and maybe even spend the night together?”
You nodded and he frowned, “I wish I was normal, I just want to be normal” He cried into your shoulder hugging you and as you held him he kissed you softly. You didn’t have the heart to stop him with how gentle and kind he was. He pleaded sadly, “Please, just once, just tonight”
You were helpless to the look in his eyes and you shut his door climbing onto his bed where you kissed him, touching his body as he did the same. The light tinkling of his ankle cuff was the only thing keeping you alert to any possible dangers. But he was gentle. Taehyung wasn’t V.
“Does this feel okay?” He whispered “I am not hurting you?”
Riding him was like a dream, he guided you with his hands on your hips and you felt his heart racing against your hands that were on his chest. Right before he was going to finish, you got off and took him in your mouth, you weren’t going to take any risks without any condoms.
“Yes kitty,” he whispered as he grabbed your head and came. You managed to pull away and he came all over the two of you causing him to frown, “bad kitty you got us all dirty”
Alarm bells rang but he still looked so innocent and carefully wiped your face with a tissue, apologizing the whole time. Taehyung helped you dress and even helped you tie up your hair. “I am really thankful that you helped me experience something, I won’t tell anyone, I don’t want you to lose your job or anything”
“It’s okay, Taehyung, I trust you.” He gave your hand an affectionate squeeze and you slipped out the room before people would start to suspect something.
You and Taehyung spend the next few days bonding, he warns you when he feels himself slipping away and you have enough time to prepare before V emerges. Whilst painting in the garden Taehyung is talking about all the things he loves, his favourite style of music and his favourite colour and the two of you talk about what you would do if you could do anything.
On your way back Taehyung is telling you about a new electrotherapy that has been said to remove alternate persona’s from one's mind. “It is worth a shot don’t you think?”
“It sounds a little scary, what if something goes wrong, what if you die?” you asked
“I would rather die than spend my whole life in this ward trapped in my own body because someone else is taking control of me, making me do things I don’t want to” He exclaimed, laughing almost bitterly.
“Sorry Taehyung, I didn’t know” You whispered “It’s not something I can truly comprehend.”
“That’s right because you are perfect and everything is normal,” He hissed getting aggravated, he was being restrained when he panicked and started apologizing. “Wait I am sorry, I am sorry, please let me go.”
He was taken to his room and your heart felt like it was breaking, he was afraid of himself and he wanted to get better. He was alone, longing for someone to love him for who he was. Could you be that for him perhaps?
After dinner you went to the room to see him, he was hunched over his shoulders shaking as he sniffled, “I’m sorry,” his voice was small. You stepped over and touched his shoulder, his hand came up and squeezed yours. “You should go, I am not the person you should be with”
“I want to stay, I want to be with you. If there was a way, I would love to get married, have a family and live happily ever after.”
His grip tightened and the sniffling turned to laughter, you were pulled on top of him, his grip was harsh, “You want to get married, my bad kitty, you want me to put some babies inside you?”
You were grabbed and one of the male nurses sedated him, you were crying and you left the room, “I just tried to comfort Taehyung, I am fine I was just startled and scared. I will go for a shower and I will head home for the night.”
You came back to work the next day but you didn’t step foot into Taehyung’s room. You spoke over meals with everyone and he was his usual nice and gentle self. He told everyone that he was getting electroshock therapy. He was saying if it all went successful he would be allowed out of the asylum and allowed to live like a normal human again.
It took three whole weeks before you had willingly stepped into Taehyung's room, it was his first interview about him and his illness they were recording data to compare with afterwards. You walked him to his interview and walked him back, opening his door and stepping inside.
The door shut behind you and you knew he was behind you. The number one rule is don't let the patient block your exit. And here you were stuck in the room blocked in by Taehyung.
“Hey Taehyung, you want to play another game of cards” you said, watching him look at the door shoulders hunched over. He slowly turned, looking up with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“I’m not Taehyung.” he said,his face void of any expression.
“Who are you, then?”
“You know who I am!” He shouted before reigning himself back in, “I am V, I am the one that scares you bad kitty, that day when they sedated me, I almost had you”
“You liked what I said though didn’t you, you pressed your thighs together and the sweet scent of arousal filled the room. You want to get fucked and you want it hard” he said, gripping you by the hair and pushing you so your chest is flat against the bed.
You wanted it, god you wanted it and he knew it, but you would get fired. As if reading your thoughts V softly whispered into your ear, “you can blame me if they come in sweetheart, no one has to know you were willing, just tell me you want it”
“I can’t” you whined into the bed cursing that you couldn’t.
“You let Taehyung fuck you but not me?” He pressed himself against you letting you feel how hard you made him.
“Because Taehyung was sweet,” and upset. You were trying to comfort him and had forgotten you were at work, but you didn’t say the last bit out loud.
“Listen to me. Taehyung doesn’t control me but I can control him, that was all me, you know it because I called you by my nickname. Didn’t he call you bad kitty that day?”
You looked at him in shock as he continued, all the while lifting your dress and pulling down your soaked underwear, “That’s right it was me all along so what’s the harm if we try it again?”
“Fuck me, please” you moaned throwing caution to the wind, if you lost your job then so be it.
He pushed himself into you in a single, hard thrust and you felt your walls stretch around him. He felt bigger then Taehyung but that had to be impossible.
Where one was timid and soft, he was rough and ferocious, his hips pistoned in and out as he fucked you hard. He was vocal and unrefined, he didn’t have any other thought except the primal urge to fuck you. The lewd sounds bounced off of the walls as he pounded into you. He thrusted deep, you could feel him deep inside in your inner walls.
You were drooling, biting the blankets on his bed clutching them between your fists trying to muffle the sounds you were making.
Taehyung had thrust hard one last time before you felt heat spreading inside you and your eyes shot open, “Fuck, Tae what about a condom?”
“You are mine.” he growled, punctuating each of his words with a thrust as he went, leaving you a writhing mess.
You quickly got dressed and stormed into the staff bathroom and took a shower.
You changed your clothes and hurried home. You spent the night huddled in your blankets crying yourself to sleep.
You left for a while after that incident, you spent christmas and new years with your family and when you came back you went back to working right away. The shift was awkward as Taehyung kept staring at you, you didn’t know what it meant but you tried to pay it no mind. The end of your first week back was the day Taehyung would undergo Electroshock therapy.
When it came around you walked him to the theatre and stayed in the hall, you didn’t want to witness it but you wanted to be there by him as soon as it was over. What you didn’t expect was the screaming. What felt like after an eternity but was only half an hour later they stepped out wheeling Taehyung on a gurney, he didn’t look so good.
It took awhile but Taehyung was starting to grow stronger and he would chat and seemed to be getting healthier and there was no sign of V. You were extremely happy and a month later he was reviewed and approved for discharge from the asylum. He was finally moving in with you and you two were going to live together and start a family.
He waved to the boys but they hadn’t stopped crying all morning, they didn’t say a word, only sobbing more when Taehyung hugged them before leaving. “I wish I could take you all with me,” He said, wiping his eyes.
Taehyung moved in and you two started decorating the apartment to make it more homey. You were cooking dinner for him one night, everything was going well so far, it had been two months since his discharge and the two of you were happy.
“We could try for a baby, if you wanted?” Taehyung shuffled his feet looking at the ground. You giggled, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom, he undressed you and laid you on the bed before undressing and settling in between your legs. You hadn’t been intimate since Taehyung had been discharged from the asylum and it was just as amazing as you remembered, slow and sensual just like your first time with Taehyung.
Taehyung lifted your hands above your head, kissing and licking your breasts. Panting against you when his hands tightened his grip around your wrists. His hips drove deeper inside you, he was soon going faster and harder pounding into you with all his force and you whined in pleasure. “Yes please.”
“Do you like that bad kitty?”
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Thank-you for 100+ followers! Here’s a little thank-you fic, I so appreciate the the support. ~5.7k words. Rowaelin.
Sometime Around Midnight
Three years ago when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself hiking in the mountains. Two years ago when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself pacing the hospital halls.
Currently when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself at work.
He no longer knew what a day off actually looked like and that was fine with him.
“What are you doing here?”
Rowan looked up to see his longtime friend and co-bar owner, Fenrys come in from the storage room. He had a clipboard in hand, his gold-blond hair hanging in long, loose curls around his shoulders.
“Working,” Rowan replied. He wiped down the metal table before him where he’d accidentally upended an entire tub of maraschino cherry juice. Thankfully there’d been no actual cherries left so there wasn’t much lost there, but the mess was still annoying.
“Go home, Rowan,” Fenrys said. He jabbed the clipboard his direction as he came behind the bar and examined the on the floor stock. “You haven’t taken a day off in two years.”
“Not true, last week you and Lorcan forced me to go camping,” Rowan said.
“Forced being the choice word of that sentence,” Fenrys replied. He leaned back against the bar and examined his friend. “C’mon man, she wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
Rowan slapped the cleaning rag down on the counter and scowled. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
It didn’t take much else for Fenrys to surrender. But Rowan could see the mixed look of anger and disappointment in his friend's eyes. It was easy enough to ignore when one of the regulars came in and ordered his drink.
Rowan poured the man his whiskey, neat, and went back to cleaning up behind the bar. It was only eleven in the morning and it was already proving to be a miserable day. Especially given the fact that Rowan was haunted by that damn piano with it’s strange cadence. And even though Rowan knew next to nothing about classical music there was something about the way that the chords were struck that told Rowan someone one was sacrificing their heart and soul to whatever god might be listening.
And Rowan found himself wishing that he could be the one to say that he was there.
Not long after that, Lorcan came in for the start of his shift. It was a strange time, but he was taking classes at the local community college and the later afternoon and evening shifts worked best for his schedule. Not that Rowan minded working around his friend’s schedule. It was what he did. What they all did for each other.
With his ever-present scowl Lorcan shuffled behind the bar and pulled his shoulder length hair back into a bun. He greeted Rowan with a grunt and started on making sure there were plenty of clean glasses to be prepared for the rest of the night.
“You could go home man,” Lorcan said quietly as he leaned against the bar. “You’ve been working non-stop all week.”
All week. All year.
It all rolled together in one fat miserable existence.
Rowan merely shrugged. “Nah. I can’t leave you here alone.”
“It’s a Tuesday,” Lorcan said. He rolled his eyes. “What’d’ya thinks going to happen?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But if Rowan went home all he would do is stare at his phone, the tv, the wall. He didn’t sleep much anymore despite how exhausted he was. Besides, Rowan didn’t want to owe Lorcan anything.
“Shut up and go wipe down tables,” Rowan growled. He leaned down and grabbed a bowl of limes from a mini-fridge beneath the bar. He had a feeling they would need them at some point that night.
And hours later, he was right.
It was near closing time, one in the morning, and a woman with golden hair twisted into an intricate braid atop her head stumbled in. She slid into a barstool with easy grace and immediately ordered an entire bottle of tequila.
Rowan stared at her.
She was beautiful, there was no mistaking it. With her large, golden blue eyes, full lips, and sexy black dress that dipped into a sinfully low v--Rowan had a hard time looking away from her.
“You do know we’re closing soon, right?” he asked even as he lined up a few shot glasses.
“Shut up and pour,” she said.
Rowan was never usually one to take orders from someone else, particularly when that someone was out looking to get blackout drunk. And yet, when she stared at him with those sharp eyes and hard tilt of the chin, he decided that listening to her might not be a bad thing. So, he poured.
The woman slammed back two shots before snatching the bowl of limes he’d cut earlier. Without even hesitating, she began sucking the slices dry.
“Feel better?” he asked.
She flipped him off and grabbed a third shot. She didn’t seem at all affected by the tequila which in and of itself was a phenomenal feat. But Rowan recognized the drinking and the behavior for what it was. She was trying to forget.
One o’clock in the morning in the middle of the week and she was ready to lose herself to anything and everything.
“Riddle me this barkeep,” the woman said as she twirled one of the shot glasses between her fingers. “Why do men make promises they have no intention of keeping?”
Rowan watched her, somewhat concerned.
She truly seemed far to put together for a bar like this, a neighborhood like this. Far too attractive to be alone, even pontificating on the idea of being alone. And yet, as she downed another shot and sucked on another lime--Rowan had a feeling that this was who the woman really was. Confident and self-assured.
He poured her a glass of water just to be safe.
She scowled and glared at the offending drink.
“I do know how to handle my liquor,” she said. She gave him a pointed glare.
“Whatever you say, Princess,” he replied with a growl. “I’d just rather not spend half my night cleaning up after you.”
“You are a cranky old buzzard,” she said. Her full lips jutted out in a scowl and Rowan had a hard time tearing his gaze from them.
He needed to focus on something else. “Buzzard?”
“Your shirt,” she said pointing with a lime rind. “Those look like hawks. And hawks are assholes that pick and mother-hen everything. Buzzard.”
Looking down at his shirt, Rowan frowned. Indeed, the button up had birds in the design, but he didn’t think it was that noticeable. Or at least not enough to comment on. Even for a woman who most certainly was well on her way to getting wasted.
She grinned at his silence and plucked a cherry from behind the counter. Watching him, the woman ate the cherry and kept the stem between her fingers.
“But I really would like to know,” she said, “why make promises that you don’t keep?”
Rowan shook his head. Maybe he should just let her drink herself to oblivion. It would make it easier to call a cab for her. And he had a rule not to get involved in these deep philosophical-like talks. They never served anyone well.
“It’s probably just me,” she said, so quietly Rowan almost missed it.
But her phone buzzed from where she set it beside her. She glanced at it, laughed loudly, and shoved it away.
“Maybe I should try celibacy for a while,” the woman said. She stole another cherry and sighed. “Because this dating thing is not working very well.”
Rowan waited until she’d gulped down half the glass of water before pouring her another shot.
“You don’t talk much do you?” the woman asked.
Rowan noticed then the distinct tint of her eyes. Gold rimmed with blue. Or blue rimmed with gold. One of the two. Whichever it was it was distinct enough that Rowan had a much harder time looking away this time.
“I try not to mingle with the crazy.”
She gave an affronted huff.
“Or the emotionally distressed.”
A snort. She dropped the cherry stems into one of the shot glasses. “Cranky old buzzard.”
“I’m not old,” Rowan said.
She laughed at him, a triumphant sort of gleam in her eyes.
Rowan wished he’d carded her just to prove a point. But he recognized her now, at least partially. She’d come in once before months ago with someone that could have been her brother. Lorcan had carded back then. He carded everyone mostly so he could have a greater opportunity of throwing someone out.
The last time she was here this doom and gloom cloud raging over her had been absent. All she’d been was carefree.
She finished her water and nodded to the tequila.
“I think you’ve had enough,” he said, “besides, I should be finishing closing.”
Rolling her eyes, the woman picked up her phone--a call flashed on the screen and whoever it was had her grinning broadly.
“Dorian!” she cried into the phone with a happy lilt to her voice.
She was definitely drunk.
Rowan grabbed the dirty glasses he’d poured her and collected the lime rinds and cherry stems.
“Where the hell are you?” A voice demanded on the other line. Loud and on speaker. The woman made no effort to take it off speaker.
“Ugh, you’re too loud, asshole,” the woman groused. She tried to snag the unattended tequila, but Rowan managed to slide it out of her grasp. It earned him a pout, but he didn’t really care.
“Where are you?” the man on the other end repeated.
“The Cadre.”
A loud, very crude curse sounded. “Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning? This is how you get alcohol poisoning.”
“Buzz kill,” the woman sang into the phone. She grinned at Rowan. “You should come get me. It’s way past the bartender’s bedtime.”
She hung up the phone without waiting for a response.
“You know,” she said, “this place is so close to my apartment. But I never come here.”
“You must live in a crappy part of town,” Rowan said before he could stop himself. But she didn’t seem to be at all offended. In fact she laughed.
“If only you knew,” she laughed. Her demeanor turned serious and for a moment, Rowan thought that she might say something more profound, something that would help him better understand her. Because there was something entirely different about her. And not just the confident way she held herself or overtook a room. But something.
It wasn’t long after that when the door to the bar opened and a young man entered. He was tall with thick black hair and a lean build. He held himself well though and the well-tailored suit only helped exude more confidence. Or perhaps it was the woman at his side. She was shorter, lean, and had long bone white hair that curled in loose waves. Her golden eyes examined the bar with amusement.
“Dorian!”
Slipping out of her stool, Rowan’s once companion, ran over to the man with surprising agility for how much she’d been drinking the past hour.
“Are you kidding me?” Dorian groaned as he caught the woman. “I thought you were with Sam.”
“Nope,” the woman popped the “p” with a loud smack of her lips and giggled. “But I found another broody man to keep me company instead.”
The woman cast a bright, beaming look over her shoulder to Rowan. And in all honesty, he didn’t know what to make of it.
The man, Dorian cursed, and passed the tipsy blonde over to his companion who rolled her eyes and said something softly to the other woman.
Dorian approached the bar and pulled out his wallet and handed Rowan several bills. More than enough to cover the drinks and a tip.
Rowan glanced at Dorian more than ready to tell him off for whatever statement he wanted to make in front of the women.
“Thanks for letting her in,” Dorian said, his voice soft. There was such sincerity in his words, that Rowan accepted the cash without realizing what he was doing. “And making sure she was safe.”
Rowan shrugged. “I was about to call a cab.”
“Still,” Dorian said. He knocked his fist on the bar and backed away. “You’re a hopeless drunk Galathynis.”
“It fits, seeing as how I have a hopeless fiancé,” the blonde replied. She paused. “Ex-fiancé.”
The doors of the bar shut behind them as they left and Rowan followed after making sure to lock up. It had been a long night and he had no idea what to make of the woman who’d just left.
#
Once on a dare, Rowan shaved his head. He’d been drunk when he actually did the deed because being sober for the event was not an option. His fiancée had asked him to shave his head for her. No. That was a lie. She would have never asked him to do that for her. But he knew he should have. She would have loved it.
Two years after, Rowan still kept his head shaved.
If pestered about it, Rowan would just say it was easier and more manageable this way. Anything to get out of mentioning Lyria. Anything to get out of thinking back on her.
When he saw the woman from the bar next it was at the bar. At a decent hour this time.
Well as decent as the hours could be for a grunge bar such as The Cadre.
It was nearing ten o’clock on a weekend and all the usuals were there. Rowan expected it to be another regular night without anything exciting happening.
But then he spotted the woman with golden hair and distracting eyes come in. She was alone, again. But this time she wasn’t in a black dress with her hair perfectly braided in that crown along the top of her head. Tonight, she wore black leggings and a long flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls down her back.
And again—damn him—Rowan about found himself speechless. It wasn’t something he was used to. Not since Lyria.
“Well, if it isn’t the Buzzard,” crooned the blonde as she sidled up to the bar.
“Are you going to drink me out of tequila again?” Rowan asked warily.
She flashed him a grin. Yes. She probably would.
Because Rowan had learned a long time ago how to read that grin. Ferocious and cold. The kind of grin that would take no prisoners and show no mercy.
As she ordered her drink, Rowan quickly became distracted by the late-night rush. A college game had just finished up and post-drinking was required. Not to mention it was the middle of the summer and everyone seemed desperate for escape. Even to a place like the Cadre.
And still, all through the night, Rowan found his gaze wandering to the end of the bar where the woman had set up. She spent her time nursing a drink, taking shots, and declining any offers to join anyone.
“You’ve been staring at that woman all night,” Lorcan said, coming up beside Rowan. The broad-shouldered man edged a palette of clean glasses onto the bar and began putting them away.
Rowan grunted and looked distinctly away from her. He threw a towel on his shoulder and sidled past his friend to grab a new bottle of vodka from a shelf behind him. Lorcan rolled his eyes but said nothing. Nothing until the woman changed seats and came to an open space near the center of the bar.
She leaned against the bar and examined both men.
“Well you both seem to be enjoying your night,” she said dryly.
“It’s a Saturday with a bar of grumpy old bastards,” Rowan replied. Lorcan snorted back a laugh. Whether in agreement or making a statement, Rowan wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d make sure to punch his friend later.
“Then you’re right among friends,” the woman said. She looked so serious as she said it that Rowan almost missed the sarcasm lacing her words.
It was Lorcan who laughed first and helped himself to a tequila shot before pouring one for the blonde. She offered him a silent toast and downed the drink.
“I’ll get you another drink in a minute,” Rowan told her. He still had to finish a few orders for another table of some ass-hat executives at a table near the back corner.
“Okay,” she said.
And then she was swiping cherries. Again. Perhaps it was Rowan’s fault for leaving the container up on the bar. Rowan narrowed his eyes at her. She smiled; her lips stained with that saccharine syrup.
She said nothing else, but leaned against the bar with nonchalance and yet her eyes seemed glazed over as she watched people slowly filter out. It wasn’t that late, barely past midnight and a Thursday. Yet as the hype simmered out from the baseball game, the bar still remained busy.
As she nursed her second drink--despite the gleam in her eyes at the start of the night, she’d paced herself very well—the woman finally accepted a glass of water.
“I do not need any food,” she told him after he’d asked again. Her lip curled a moment. “Unless you have cake.”
“Cake?”
“Cake.”
Rowan stared at her. She puckered her lips.
“No,” he said slowly, “no cake.”
“Then no food.”
“You’re just going to sit here and drink all night?” Rowan asked.
“I’m in good company.” She turned those brilliant eyes on him and for a moment Rowan felt as though he were staring through the universe as it collapsed in on him and he were left bereft in that unknown sea.
And then she blinked.
“Besides, it’s not like there’s anyone waiting up for me.” She threw a cherry stem down on the bar with a scowled. “Sorry, I’m sure you love hearing about everyone else’s problems.”
Rowan shrugged indifferently, even as she leaned forward on her elbows to watch as he shook drinks for a couple a few spaces down.
“You’re the perfect bartender,” she declared, “you don’t talk, you’re surly, and that whole brooding bastard look is working really well. And I could say anything and not even faze you, couldn’t I?”
“Nothing surprises me anymore,” Rowan said. He delivered the drinks as he finished them and returned to find her with more swiped cherries while texting someone.
She quirked an eyebrow at him before finishing the last of her drink. She slipped out of her stool with much more ease that he would have expected.
“I wonder if you have it worse or better than the rest of us,” she said, smiling around a cherry stem.
And that image of her imprinted its self in Rowans mind long after she left.
#
Maybe, Aelin realized, she had an addiction. The kind that made no sense. The kind that gripped her with nothing more than coincidences and overthinking. One that didn’t even require her to consume anything other than the sight of one person.
And she did not like it.
She didn’t even know the bartenders name. All she knew was that he worked practically all the time at the rundown bar down the street from her apartment. It made sense that she’d never been there before. Sam didn’t really like the bar scene after all. Said it was just too much. And Aelin had known that. Hadn’t really minded it because they had other ways of spending time together.
But that damn bar was like a stain on her mind. It would not leave her alone.
So yet again she found herself there.
Too late or too early, she didn’t know which. What she did know was that she probably shouldn’t have gone to the bar. It wasn’t anything more than the fact that she really should be sleeping. Or pounding down Lysandra’s door demanding a last-minute slumber party and not taking no for an answer.
But here she was instead.
When he looked up and found her entering the bar, he gave her a trademark scowl. Aelin told herself that there was softness to his eyes. No brief flicker of joy. Just a scowl. Because she was a pain in the ass.
His silvery blonde hair was styled to stay out of his eyes and Aelin found herself desirous to run her fingers through it and see it messed up from it’s usual grace. He wore jeans and a non-descript black shirt. The style, combined with the lighting of the bar made his green eyes all the more vibrant.
“If you’re here to swipe cherries you can leave now,” he said.
“Just as cheery as ever, eh Buzzard?” she said.
He gave her a glass of water and left her alone for a few minutes. It wasn’t much longer until he came back and began slicing limes.
Aelin watched him work in silence. Despite his large hands he handled the knife deftly and cut perfect slices. Aline was tempted to ask him how he’d learned to handle a knife, but figured he’d make her drink more water.
“Can I get a real drink now?” she asked.
“No.”
She scowled at him. “Why not?”
“It’s nearly two in the morning.”
“So?”
He looked up and stared at her. His pine green eyes were unreadable pools.
Whatever he saw in her was enough for him to grab a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He set the items before her silently.
Of course, as soon as she got what she wanted she didn’t want it.
Again.
Aelin stared at the amber liquid in the carefully cut glass jar.
“Do you think we have multiple shots at happiness?” she asked.
The man grunted.
“You’re as interesting as your friend.”
“I’m not having a conversation with a drunk.”
“I’m not drunk,” Aelin said defensively.
“You’re in a bar at three in the morning,” he replied, “besides, I don’t do soul searching conversations.”
“Oh of course,” Aelin said, “because that would mean actually connecting with someone. I forgot; men don’t do that.”
He scowled at her. “I barely know you. Besides, I make it a general rule not to cross the bar like that.”
Aelin ran a finger over the rim of the empty glass, eyes still set on him.
“I’m hardly a stranger, I’m here often enough,” she said.
“And yet I don’t know your name,” he said. He tilted his head just barely to the side and Aelin found that the angle exposed his collar bone. Black ink swirled along his tanned skin. She thought she recognized some of the symbols as Celt or some sort, but then he shifted again and her view was lost. Which was highly disappointing. He had nice skin.
“You already act like you do,” she said, finger still gliding over the glass cup. “Princess.”
He snorted, unconvinced and rolled his eyes. Aelin found herself grinning. She didn’t know what it was, but she liked being able to make him break that stoic wall of his.
“Aelin,” she said finally. “My name’s Aelin.”
He blinked those glorious pine eyes at her. When he said nothing, Aelin wondered if he would go back to ignoring her or whatever it was he did.
“Rowan,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on her.
“Hello, Rowan,” she said, “now tell me. What is your understanding of finding happiness?”
#
For reasons that she could not explain, Aelin found herself returning time and time again. She pried information from Rowan like she was trying to pull lies from a faerie. Impossible.
But how she tried.
She learned his last name was Whitethorn. His tattoos were in fact Celt. He co-owned the bar with a friend. All of his friends worked at the bar at one point or another, one night or another. He didn’t tell her what the tattoos meant—though Aelin had an idea of who they were about. Based mostly on what Rowan didn’t say and how easily he avoided certain conversations.
She learned other things too. He was left-handed. He had a dimple on one cheek. There was a freckle on his ear. He knew the words to most of the 80’s songs that blared on the speakers. He had secrets. He wanted to believe in happiness for one.
And she wanted to know more.
“You jumped out of a two-story window?” She asked in disbelief one night
Throughout the summer when she wasn’t at work or handing out with her friends, this was where she was. Far more often than she wanted to admit. Especially the fact that being here around him made Aelin feel...safe. And far better than that first night she had stumbled across this place.
“You would have done the same thing,” Rowan said. His eyes were far too wide that Aelin couldn’t stop laughing despite the somewhat serious nature of his story. “I’m pretty sure my Aunt has murdered someone before.”
“So you thought it was a good idea to break into her house?” Aelin sputtered. Tears of mirth were brimming in her eyes as she stared at him.
“I really didn’t want to streak through the college quad,” Rowan said with a grimace. “It was below freezing that night.”
Cackling loudly, Aelin took a slow sip of her plain orange juice. It was ten in the morning and she wasn’t needed in work until after noon. Oh the joys of a damned internship. It was better than the old place, but certainly not as reliable.
“Your turn,” Rowan said, pulling away from the bar as he grabbed a clean rag to give a general wipe down to everything. “Stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
Aelin hummed. “I don’t know…”
He pointed a finger at her. “We had a deal.”
“Well when you put it that way,” Aelin drawled, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. “I accidentally started a brush fire out behind my house.”
“Now the question is if this happened years ago or last night,” Rowan mused.
“Buzzard,” she said.
“Fireheart,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes at him as her phone buzzed with a text and her boss's name popped up on the screen. Aelin sighed, knowing just what it would say. “Well, as much as I enjoy telling you all my darkest secrets, they need me to go in early.”
“Told you the plain orange juice was the better idea,” Rowan said.
“A lot less fun,” she muttered and dug a few bills from her purse. She met his eyes and smiled. “I’ll see you later.”
Her heart fluttered when he smiled, briefly, back.
#
When Rowan realized that Aelin was probably destined to never leave him alone, he resigned himself to that fact.
Really it wouldn’t be bad.
Not with her smile. Her laugh. Not with the insistence she had that he and Lorcan add chocolate cake to the bar menu or make the bar pet friendly. Not bad at all when she would come simply to talk. Simply to sit. Simply to be.
Until one night she came in, far too close to closing. It was too the point that Rowan had been about to lock up that she came up to the doors, reaching for the handle. They stared at each other for far too long before Rowan let her in.
He said nothing as she made her way behind the bar and grabbed the vodka and went to her usual stool. He said nothing as she took a swing, cursed, and drank again.
Despite everything that he knew about her--she was ambidextrous, her parents were dead, she loved playing the piano, she couldn’t her tongue--despite all of this he had never seen her like this.
This was different from that first night she came tumbling into his life, nearly six months ago now.
“I should be getting married,” she said after a third drink.
She set the vodka down heavily and leaned her head against the bar and sighed heavily. Slowly, Rowan came to sit beside her. The first time really that he had done so. They usually spent their time separated by the bar with enough distance that he could keep his emotions at bay.
Now, Rowan was far too close to her. He could smell the lotion she used, smell the night on her, see tears in her eyes when she finally looked up.
“Or, I would already be married,” she amended. “Married and on my way to Mexico, though I wanted to go to Ireland. I’ve never been and I think I have family still out there, but going to Mexico would be cheaper and warmer. But Ireland has the ocean too, and history, and…well it’s different. Apparently too different.”
Her words stilled as her chest heaved from everything that came tumbling out in too quick in procession like a piano solo that raged out of control and now that she’s finally caught up to herself, she doesn’t know where to go.
So she looked at him.
“He broke off the engagement without really telling me why, other than it was too soon and too much and everything else he could think of.”
The tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and she looked away from him, out over the empty bar with its scuffed floor and mismatching furniture. There was a bulb out over head that cast them in semi-shadows, enough that things feel quieter and gentler.
Rowan waited as she collected her words, her thoughts. He waited and remembered all the questions she’d asked him in the past about broken promises and happiness and everything in between. He wished he’d answered her sooner.
“Aelin,” he began slowly.
“Was I not worth it?” She whispered. Her words were aimed at the empty space. At the nothingness of the bar that reminded Rowan of how long the nights could get. “Was I not worth the fear and change of it all?”
Between the wondering of how they came to this and the wondering why she trusted him with her fragile words, Rowan was convinced he would do something entirely too stupid for words.
But when her gaze returned to his, Rowan found he didn’t care.
So he reached out, cupping her cheek with one of his hands. He could feel her tears on his skin and could feel how her chin trembled with restrained sobs.
“I thought, I thought,” she said. Her voice was ragged, abused and the words fused together. It was enough to make Rowan lean forward, enough for him to lean his forehead against hers.
They sat that way for a long time. Long enough for Aelin to get a hold of her staggered breathing and reign in her thundering heart.
Rowan remained silent not wanting to disturb the silence that settled around them. He ran his thumb across her cheek, catching all the tears that fell from her eyes. Aelin didn’t reply immediately. She merely closed her eyes and learned further into his touch. The soft sigh that left her lips was almost Rowan’s undoing. How long had it been? Only a few months and he was already enthralled by her and the way she had held herself together for so long.
“Aelin.”
Her eyes fluttered open and Rowan was convinced she could have petrified him with that gaze. The tears that lingered there only enhanced the gold rimming her pupils.
For a moment, Rowan thought he had overstepped his bounds, had done something she wasn’t comfortable with. Hell, he was just a bartender. Did she even consider him to be a friend? She probably didn’t even reciprocate the feelings that he had been developing for her. He made to pull away when she snatched a hand up to hold his hand in place where it still rested against her cheek.
Rowan’s heart stuttered in his chest at the movement and continued to stutter the longer they remained there. He wet his lips before speaking, knowing full well that it could potentially be a terrible idea. She’d never talked about that first night she came in. Never explained much about her ex-fiance or why they’d split up. And Rowan never pried. Mostly because he didn’t feel like it was his place.
“You’re worth all of it. All of it and more.”
He watched as the words sunk in, as she slowly blinked.
“You barely know me,” she whispered.
“I know enough,” he answered honestly. “You have a heart of fire. You’re strong. Confident. Unforgettable.”
Still clutching his hand, Aelin turned away from him, gnawing on her bottom lip. When she looked back at him, Rowan could see uncertainty in her eyes. The same uncertainty he felt in his own chest.
Rowan leaned forward, drawing closer to Aelin. They were separated by mere centimeters. All it would take was for Aelin to tilt her chin up and capture his lips with her own.
The uncertainty that had been in her eyes was wiped away with determination and she rose up to meet him with a firm press of her lips. Rowan could still taste the vodka lingering on her mouth as she opened to him.
Her hands immediately went to his hair, pulling through the strands. The touch sent a shiver of pleasure through him as his own hand wandered down her waist. They didn’t break contact as they rose from their seats and in a fluid motion, Rowan lifted Aelin onto the bar top.
Aelin arched into him as Rowan explored the planes of her skin with his mouth. There was something electrifying about this woman, about being so near her, kissing her. And he would be perfectly willing to spend the rest of his life doing this.
When they finally broke apart, both out of breath, they touched foreheads and merely stared into each other’s eyes.
Until Aelin hummed, fingers threading through his hair again.
“You know, you should at least buy me a drink first, Buzzard,” she said.
Rowan chuckled lowly. “Whatever you say, Fireheart.”
#
thanks for reading dears! my ask box is always open. I’m probably going to try and bust out some holiday drabbles for the next two weeks then move on to my other updates.
tags: @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @bamchickawowow@ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan
#aelin#rowan whitethorn#rowaelin au#rowaelin#throne of glass#throne of glass fanfiction#appreciation fanfic#thank-you#aelin and rowan
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Of Bad Beer and Summer Nights. #Writer Wednesday 04/28/21 Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: it’s just another summer day at the pool. Sunbathing before your shift starts, the day changes drastically when you cannot take your eyes off a handsome stranger.
Warning: mention of alcohol and swearing. NSFW +18 SMUT (oral and p in v sex)
Paring: Javier Peña x F! reader
A/N: Another take on the #Writer Wednesday challenge by @autumnleaves1991-blog !!
Not me basing all this on the label of the beer that’s shown on the cans and my obsession with Javier Peña and his ridiculous fashion choices. This is the first thing I write with a little spice on it and I’m still not that comfortable but we’re getting there. Not beta’d and my eyes are burning so I have read it just once so if they’re any mistakes, misspellings and bad grammar I’m really sorry.
Of bad beer and summer nights
The kids’ screams from the pool muffles the tunes of some old ranchera blasting from the bar’s stereo. The old guard of retire men gather around the plastic white tables drinking cold beer and playing dominoes and you lower your book, sunbathing under this blazing sun, and smile; this is your childhood, your home and even that you had convinced yourself that you were done with this, that you wanted to run away, this speaks to your nostalgia and the fondest memories you own.
The heat makes you lazy and your stretch your body feeling your bones as if they were made of jelly. You drop the book on your stomach; you were not actually paying too much attention to it anyway and look around the pool: kids running around with water guns, angry mothers trying to control them and the men on the bar. Usually they’re around 70 or plus on average, they occupy their usual spot under the parasols early in the morning and spend their time doing their retirement routine: newspaper, same old conversation and complain about the world, beer and dominoes, until it’s time to eat or to switch their drink to coffee. But today a tall, lean, brown haired man is breaking the age median. He’s younger and stands out not only for his strong physic but because he wears a bright pink shirt and some yellow aviators and the tightest jeans you’ve seen on a man. You’re sure you’d question anybody else’s fashion choice if they were wearing that, but surprisingly, it fits him, probably because he exudes confidence, maybe it’s his broad shoulders, maybe it’s his golden skin revealed by the way–too-much-unbuttoned shirt he wears, maybe it’s his dark hair or his striking features or maybe it’s because of his dark coffee brown eyes that are fixed on you. His eyes. Shit.
You were so absorbed looking at him that you didn’t realize he had taken off his glasses and it’s now seated facing the pool and you from the bar. He smirks when you try, ungracefully, to grab your book back, the paper is stuck to your skin since you had spread it generously with tanning oil. The pages are ruined but you actually don’t care, you just open it before your eyes and try to conceal that you were looking at him like a creep. After a few minutes, you raise the novel just enough to see if he's looking but he's gone. Disappointed, you turn to the other side and let the sun bronze your skin and achieve that serene state that you had before he arrived at the pool.
"Hey, you, burnt sloth, it's time" somebody pokes on your shoulder
"Burnt sloth, seriously?" You say, you feel your mouth is dry and your brain is slowly coming back to life "it's my shift already?"
"Yep, actually you're two minutes late" Marisa grabs the elastic of your bikini bottom and pulls it and lets it go until it slaps your skin
"Ouch! I'm coming" you finally get up
"C'mon, Mr. Garcia has joined the party at the bar, and you'll be late for his speech on the loss of traditional family values" she announces. You glance at the other side of the pool, the old man walks with difficulty towards his retired friends table
"Shit, you do it on purpose" you say and Marisa smirks "my shift always starts when there's one of the annoying customers time to arrive, that's not fair"
"Is there anybody attending the bar?!" You both turn to see Mr. Garcia raising his cane and screaming at you
"I'm coming" you answer, grabbing your jean shorts and the white shirt with staffwritten on it. You toss your clothes on over your bikini and run towards the bar.
"Sorry, Mr. Garcia, the usual?" You ask while tying up your apron
"Yes, please. This is what's wrong with this country now the youth has lost the will to work hard to really make an effort…"
Even his friends roll their eyes, but you know it will be a minute until he finishes the list of bad things he wants to rant about.
Marisa has occupied your deck chair and winks at you while she spreads her sun cream. Bitch you mutter towards her and she smiles and lays back.
The rest of your shift consists in ignoring Mr. Garcia and looking at Marisa with jealousy. When the sun is almost gone she joins you on the counter.
"I'll have until Jack comes to pick me up, I thought you needed some company" she says bending herself over the bar to grab a glass
"Yeah, now that they're about to leave, how convenient" you point to the old men table "what do you want?"
"Beer please"
You take two ice cold cans and serve hers on her glass while you keep yours under the wood counter
“Tomorrow you will take my shift by the way" you say leaning on the fridge
"Nope" she says having a sip of her drink
"You wanna bet?" You counter knowing that she likes to play. She thinks about it for a second but when you open the cards box and leave the deck in front of her she nods
"Just for tomorrow though" Marisa shakes your hand and you distribute the cards between you two.
You try to focus on the game, she's better than you and you really don't want to take another shift like this. But all your concentration leaves your body once you see out of the corner of your eyes, a pink bright shirt and a tall figure.
"Hi, are you ready Pops?" He says, his voice is deep while he gently taps on one of the old men at the table
"No, give me a minute, I'm actually winning for once" he says laying one of the domino pieces on the table
"Right" he smiles warmly at him and you think he couldn't be more handsome but he actually approach the counter and now, looking at him closer he’s even more attractive
“Can I have a beer please?” he asks taking a seat on a stool. You nod and grab one from the fridge.
He examines the golden can with an arched eyebrow “Don’t you have a bud?”
“No, we only have calidad (quality) and let me warn you that the title is actually ironic” you answer, for a second you hope he doesn’t actually get mad at your little joke but he smiles widely “I trust you then, I won’t take my chances with this so... can I have a whiskey then?” he pass you the can and you turn to put it back on the fridge and glance over the bottles you have. All of them are the cheapest labels on the market, but you know your boss reserves some good old Jack Daniels well hidden and you crouch down to get it from the back of the utilities cupboard.
“I don’t know if I want that drink either if you took it from where you keep the cleaning stuff” he laughs
“Don’t worry, it’s legit, it’s my boss’s. He doesn’t want to expend one cent on the clients but for himself...that’s another thing” you pour him the amber liquor and you cannot help but notice that he’s looking at you intently
“You don’t serve whiskey often, right?” he gets closer and almost whispers it in your ear
“Why?” you ask and raise your head suddenly realizing that you’re really close. His scent is intoxicating, some fresh body wash and the musk of his cologne mixed with the whiskey you’re serving him
“Normally you will serve just two or three fingers” he explains putting two of his fingers on the glass so you can see what he means, the glass is half full.
“Shit” you stop pouring and leave the bottle on the counter while he chuckles
“Either that or you’re really generous or I’m and excellent costumer” he jests
“You are!” you respond right away and you clear your throat once you realize how stupid it sounded “or I’m a terrible waitress, I think that’s more probable”
“Agreed!” Marisa claims, you actually forgot about her
“I don’t think so” he shakes his head “You were really honest about the quality of the beer, you could have just gave me that trash and say nothing”
“Well, I’m drinking one while working, I keep it hidden under the counter and I’m gambling with my friend to see if I can change my shift for hers tomorrow” you confess, he looks amused at you
“What shift is that?” he asks
“Morning, there’s none” Marisa answers
“You actually cannot take that shift” he looks at you now
“Why?” you say puzzled
“Because you’re busy tonight, probably will arrive late and you should sleep” he sips his whiskey and you still observe him not understanding
“I’m not...”
Marisa smack her lips “she’s clueless”
“I see” he smiles again, that damn smile “at what time do you close?”
“She’ll be off at seven” Marisa answers and you turn your head from one to the other like you’re watching a tennis game you don’t really understand
“What are you...”
“He’s asking you out, dummie” Marisa rolls her eyes at you with a frustrated grunt
“Oh!”
“If it’s alright for you unless you really want that early morning shift” he looks at you from under his lashes and you don’t know how a man like that can be smoldering hot one minute and this cute the next
“She’s going!” Marisa answers before you could make your mind
“Wait, I have nothing to wear and I have to...”
“There’s a dress on my locker, the code is 6754 and I don’t trade my shift anyway, you don’t have excuses” a car horns from the door “That’s Jack, don’t take no for an answer!” she points to the man running towards her boyfriend’s car.
“There’s no pressure, if you don’t want to...”
“No, I want to, really” you say focusing on the stains on your apron
“I’m Javi by the way” he smiles fondly and raises his hand, you respond with your name and shake it
“Really nice to meet you” you say softly
“Let’s go, son, this damned dominoes are jinxed!” his father walks out from the table gathering a few laughs and jokes from his friends
Javi reaches from his wallet when Mr. Garcia raises his cane again “Don’t let him pay, anything he had it’s on me”
You look at him confused and Javier, for the first time in your brief acquaintance looks shy and actually uncomfortable. He thanks the man and walks to his father about to leave the place
“I’ll pick you up at seven” he says, winking at you
“Can we have the check young lady or do we have to do it ourselves” Mr. Garcia gets you out of your daydreaming and you rush to clean up and say goodbye to the old loyal customers before they leave you alone to close.
You don’t actually have time to do much, just shower and look inside Marisa’s locker hoping for the best. You find a white summer dress and some flat sandals that fit you, you try your best with your hair and the little make up you have in your bag. And you wait for Javi to arrive.
He’s punctual, arriving just on time on his pick up car.
“Hi”
“Hi” he has changed for another bright shirt, this time blue that matches his skin perfectly. He wears those yellow sunglasses and the same tight jeans and you cannot believe that you actually think it’s the most gorgeous a man has look ever. You staring more that you should again, how the muscles on his forearm tense and relax while driving
“We’re going outside Laredo, if you don’t mind” he says eventually
“It’s fine by me, unless you’re planning to kill me and leave me in the middle of nowhere” you shot
“No, I’m not planning to do that” he chuckles
He takes you to one of those big restaurants outside the city with live music and the best BBQ you’ve ever tasted. The conversation flows nicely even if you have to slap yourself sometimes because you continue to stare in a very obvious way.
“So, why did Mr. Garcia pay for your drink?” you ask after while “He never does one kind thing for nobody, are you a celebrity or something?” you joke
“You actually don’t know?” he drinks from his beer and he has a curious look on him
“No, are you famous?”
He makes a gesture with his hand “Mmm more or less”
“I go every weekend to the movies so it’s certainly not movies” you guess and you place your hand on your chin “Singing? Do you sing rancheras? it’s the only thing he likes so... c’mon sing!”
“You don’t want to hear that”
“Okay, so it’s not singing” you bite your lip trying to come up with something “are you one of those dude’s that do that thing with the lasso” and you mimic the gesture
“A professional cowboy?” he laughs out loud “No, nothing really artistic about my fame”
“Okay” you reflect on what he said and after a few minutes you slap the table “I got it! You’re actually a very famous mobster and Mr. Garcia owes you money, always thought he had some shady business going on”
“Do I look like a mobster?” he laughs
“No! I don’t mean it like that”
“But you thought about it”
“It’s just...” you stutter
“What?”
“You exude confidence, you look cocky and very sure of yourself kinda like you own the place when you walk in and people do what you say” you explain blushing “dangerous and sexy” the beer is kicking in harder than you thought and you lean on his shoulder “like you can kill somebody” his amused expression fades and a dark and timid veil covers his face
“Oh shit” you answer “ H-have you?” you murmur, he nods softly and averts his eyes
“Well, if you’re not in jail I guess you are...law enforcement? army?”
“DEA” he responds with a deep breath
“How...how does a DEA agent become famous?”
“I was part of the team that hunted Pablo Escobar” he answers, his arms are crossed on the table and he’s looking down
“Are you kidding?” you gasp “Did you meet him? Are you the one that shot him?”
“I was not even there when it happened and never actually met him”
You can see his eyes glowing and how tense he looks now, all confidence and bravado is gone and he finishes his beer leaving your date in an uncomfortable point
“I’m sorry I brought that up” you brush your hand over his, yours looking small against his “I was joking, I’m obviously clueless about dates and have a big mouth, I’m sorry again”
“No, no” he holds your hand between his warm palms “I really thought you’d heard, that’s why I wanted to take you out from Laredo where everybody brings that up”
You hold your head on your hands “I’m an idiot, I’m sorry”
“Hey, hey!” he takes your hands and brushes his fingers on your chin until you look at him in the eye “It’s not your fault, let’s move on, okay?” his thumb is closer now to your lower lip and you see his eyes lowering until he’s looking at your mouth for a second before he points to the dance floor “Do you dance?”
“Not well”
“Me neither”
“Do we give it a go and make a fool of ourselves?” he asks holding your hand and you nod enthusiastically
The people on the dance floor judge you when you actually don’t know the moves that goes with this type of music, but you’re laughing like little kids and you see how he tries to hold you every time he gets the chance, his big hands on your waist, and arm on your lower back that burns like the sun and when finally they change to a slow song, he presses you against his chest and you moan softly when he locks you there with his hands on your back. You reach for his neck and tangle your fingers on his nape.
“I have a confession to make, agent” you whisper on his ear
“Hm?”
“I was looking at you at the pool and hoped that you came back when you left and actually ruined my novel in the process”
“And I was looking back at you and came back to pick up my father when he actually didn’t need it” he responds, his warm breath over your temple, you smile openly and you think your heart could leave your chest in that very moment
“and another thing...”
“Yes?”
“I never actually liked guys with mustache and now all I can think about is how does it feel when you kiss” you hide your face from him feeling his laughter resonate on his chest
“Wanna try?”
You raise your head even though your cheeks burn and your rational brain in screaming that you barely know the guy but then his lips brush over your softly and they’re as soft as they looked, you let him lead you mainly because the sensation is overwhelming and when he gently touches your mouth with his tongue you let him in, you let him taste you and you moan, Javi smiles briefly over your soft expression of pleasure and becomes more eager, hardening the kiss. You don’t know how long you’ve been there but when you break the kiss your head is spinning and you have to hold onto his shoulders
“So?” he says with a cocky smile
“Nice, really nice”
You don’t want this night to end, you park alongside the riverbank in Laredo, he has put down a big blanket on his pickup truck so you’re comfortable seating on it and Javier bought some cold beer at the gas station. The summer night is clear; the moon and stars shine and are reflected on the black waters of the river and you can only hear the soft sounds of the insects and the breeze moving the grass.
“Can I ask you something?” you’re both seated next to each other, swinging your legs until you touch him
“Yes”
“Why did you choose the DEA?”
“I just wanted to get away from here” he shrugs
“You caused too much trouble? Broke too many hearts?” you jest tapping his arm with your elbow
“Why do you say that?” he turns to face you
“You look like someone who could do that” you murmur “Are you going to break my heart?” Now you adjust your position so now you’re both face to face
“I hope not”
You think over his answer, it’s actually pretty honest. You had had promises of eternal love and “never ever going to hurt you” before and then they left you with your heart bleeding and your confidence undermined. So you prefer this, the truth. Neither of you know what’s going to happen, there’s only tonight and that you don’t want to get back to real world. The river, the moon and the two of you on his car are the only thing real, they only thing that exists right now.
You arise on your knees and save the distance between you holding his head on your hand. It’s you who lead the kiss this time and he lets you savor him. He holds your hips and gently pushes you on his lap. You lower your kisses to his jaw and then his neck tasting his perfume mixed with his sweat that it’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about doing since this morning, he emits a guttural moan and you feel your arousal between your thighs. Your hands act faster that you can think and unbuttons his shirt. In the moonlight his skin is soft and it’s splattered in small freckles that you kiss trying to count each one with a touch of your lips.
He doesn’t stay still for much longer and raises your summer dress kneading the skin of your legs, up to your butt and your hips. He separates you from him and you’re about to complain when you feel he’s pushing you softly to the blanket. You lay down taking a deep breath while your gaze at the night sky full of tiny bright dots that reminds you of his skin and how you crave to have him on your lips again.
You raise your head once you feel him touching your calf, his fingers softly trailing over you until he take off your sandals, and when it’s done, he grabs your legs and roam his hands up and down on them until he pulls your legs apart. Javier gets in the space between your legs and without breaking his burning look at your eyes, he takes off his shirt and unbuckles his belt.
“Please” you whisper and reach your hand towards him; he takes it and kisses your palm before bending over you. The hunger you have for his lips is finally over when he kisses you again deep and moaning against your lips.
He mimics what you did earlier and bites your jaw and your neck, scattering kisses over your clavicles. He gets up an instant just to take off your dress and admires you for a second before continuing his kisses where he had left them. You bend your back when your breasts are exposed to the fresh summer air but are immediately cover by his big warm hands and then his mouth graze each one with the most delicious attention kissing and licking your nipples until biting your lip can’t contain your whimpers
“You don’t have to be quite, there’s none” he says liberating your lower lip from your bite with his thumb “Your moans will be only for my ears and I want to listen to every single one of them” he says and leaves a kiss on your sternum before grabbing your waist pressing his face on your stomach and again repeats the action of spattering kisses and soft bites to your skin.
Once he reaches the elastic of your panties he looks at you intently. You’re a moaning mess, squirming under his touch and feeling your flesh ablaze even if the night is actually quite fresh
“Please” you whisper again and he softly raises your hips rolling the lace over your thighs. The midnight air makes you shiver. He kisses again your belly over the tan marks biting gently your hip bones before parting your legs widely.
He softly tortures you avoiding your core. His mouth licking and brushing his teeth on each thigh deeper and deeper and before arriving to the center he changes his position to the other leg
“Javi” you moan
“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs, lying on his side he leans his head on your inner right thigh. He’s as gentle as first as he was before leaving tempting kisses on your mount and folds before opening your lips to drink of you eagerly. His moans resonate through your body as an electric current and your nails scratch the blanket bellow. You call his name like a prayer, the pleasure is uncontrollable while you hope for release, he slides his fingers inside you and pumps them upwards and then you are lost in his presence and in the night above you. You hear yourself scream, your conscience is far away.
He hushes you and holds you in his arm and you waste no time in kissing him again, a deep hard kisses in which you pour all your passion and your lust. Your hands act on their own and you reach for his jeans and force them down enough until your palming his cock.
Javi understand your needs and takes down his jeans and underwear rapidly coming back to the position between your thighs. Your eyes are locked on his body admiring how he touches himself and you raise your upper body to caress his chest
“Please Javi I need you”
“Lay down” he orders, his voice is lower now and you quiver “Impatient girl” he smirks
You obey and Javier grabs your hips and he adjusts himself towards your entrance. You open your mouth once he penetrates you but there’s no sound coming out of your lips. He mutters praises for you and bends over to kiss you again. Your tongues intertwine as he’s deep inside of you, burying himself inside and getting out again and again until you’re panting looking for that ecstatic pleasure.
You cover his moans with a deep kiss once he reaches his orgasm and you hold him there. Breathing the scent of the surroundings, your sweat and his combined, you stay there until you’re calm, relaxed, and exhausted in the sweetest way.
“Thank you for not letting me change my shift” you say after a few minutes
#writer wednesday#Javier Peña#Javi Peña#Javier Peña x F! reader#Javier Peña x you#Javier Peña smut#Pedro Pascal characters#Narcos#narcos fanfic#pedro pascal fic#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfiction
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the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark
theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]
The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!
[ masterpost for all chapters ]
CHAPTER 8 OF 22
And how impossible it still is: to train the heart to sit.
- "The Kindest Thing She Almost Did", Blythe Baird
--
The College of Arts’ student council has rotating schedules on who gets to organize the university-famous Halloween party. This year, it was the Literature Department and the Film Department that paired up to choose a theme, decorate, and make sure the party is getting smoothly—and the very specific, not-required but entirely funny, theme this year was “Film or Book that you’d love to be turned spooky, but isn’t exactly spooky.”
This is why she thought of coming in as characters from the Night Circus. The black and white stripes matched with red really gives off a very Halloween vibe to begin with, but all the circus-y magic that goes on in the book itself also makes it very viable for the spooky vibes.
She’s now standing in front of the College of Arts’ event hall, where the event is set to happen. She tugs at the locks of hair dangling at the side of her face, the ones she couldn't get to obey her planned updo, even with all the bobby pins.
There's something about scavenging a costume on your own that is so nerve-wracking. There's something more when you're portraying a character from a book someone introduced to you. It feels like it's a duty to get it right. She couldn’t find any entirely matching dresses in the thrift stores she went to, so this was the best she could do: some sort of modern but 1890s-inspired fortune teller mash-up of a costume. The dress was fashioned out of this dizzying deep blue-black velvet fabric, with little speckles of silver glitter like stars across it; she wore a striped black and white petticoat underneath it to give it some volume since the dress ended around the knees. She’d re-sewn the sleeves and the neckline to be similar to that of the era, revealing a nice V along her back and a nice, wide boat collar. Then, she’s put on a small, decorative hat with some red flowers on the corner of her head, and then draped a sheer black scarf with little rosy red designs on the ends over her shoulders. Then she put on some knee-high lace-up boots to add a little grunge to the entire attire. Lastly, she had a few Rider-Waite tarot cards in her pocket (The Chariot and Temperance) just for the vibe of it.
(All this costume preparation was really to wind herself down after submitting her initial requirements to the scholarship selection committee earlier that week.)
Just as she begins to spiral in her thoughts, “Sorry I’m late,” she hears Theo’s familiar voice call out, and she looks up from staring at her shoes and gasps out loud.
Theo’s wearing his hair a little curlier than usual, a lightly-tinted pair of green contacts on his eyes and—as he’s promised—a well-tailored suit, in black and white and red, to suit the general aesthetic of the circus itself. She figured he would come in a suit, but—she wasn’t expecting him to take the extra effort with the hair and the eyes, either. She could even see the little silhouette of a journal peeking from underneath his jacket—he’s obviously prepared even to the smallest details! Maybe, maybe he does look like the Marco in her head. Just a little. Maybe if his hair was darker. She finds herself staring at him for a ridiculous amount of time, so much so that he has to cough to get her attention again.
"The green eyes look lovely on you," she comments softly, hand curling up to gently press his finger at his cheekbone near instinctively, allowing her to observe his eyes better. Theo feels himself flinch in surprise, but he does not pull back.
"Thank you, grey-green was a very specific color."
She nods. "I do prefer your usual blue though." Her hand falls back to her side. "Too bad I can't magic it back?"
"You see it blue all the time. Stop complaining when this was your idea," Theo says, but he offers his arm anyway.
"So sour," she pouts. "How unbecoming of you, Mister Alisdair," she says, as she slides her arm into his.
Theo only snorts; he does not hide the half-smirk. "Only to match you, Miss Martin."
--
The event hall is lavishly decorated in some sort of spooky, old vampire mansion vibes, with all the matching spiders and fake candles. It is a little silly to see the DJ on the far end of the hall, with his set-up on top of what seemed like a desk older from three centuries ago. The caterers set up the food on a buffet table—also beautifully decorated, how many fine arts majors did the production team get to bully into helping them out?—to get it ready before dinner at six.
But the bar—the bar is open.
“Do you drink?” she asks casually, already one foot towards the bar.
He takes a nervous gulp she pretends not to notice. “Not a lot,” he answers.
“Then a glass will be alright. I told Arthur we’d meet at the bar. Come on!”
Because her college stupidly attempts to seem puritan, official drink menus are not allowed to actually say out loud that they contain hard liquor, so instead have really creative names. This time, they are references to different, random books and films, with fine-print descriptions of what it is. She orders a glass of Pride and Prejudice and Theo gets a serving of Kafka on the Shore. Both of them had just received their drinks when her phone begins to ring, and with a short excuse me she heads to a quieter part of the room and answers the call.
“Dazai?”
“Hello, Toshiko-san. I’m waiting outside the hall, but you’ve entirely forgotten that I haven’t actually met who I’m bringing in.”
Oh! “Well, I told him to wait on a stone bench there… Dark blue-ish hair, blue eyes, a mole on the side of his lip? He responds to ‘Arthur’.”
“‘Responds?’ Are your bookstore friends all a bunch of dogs?”
“Well, this drools at the sight of meat,” you say, unapologetically. “I didn’t see him there yet when I was still out, but—”
She hears a shuffle from the other side of the line, and Arthur’s familiar voice through the phone, a small “Hello, could you be Dazai?” and her friend’s very, very meaningful pause—she can almost see Dazai looking Arthur up and down—before he answers, “Yes, and you must be Arthur.”
The phone call ends and she grins for only a half a moment before realizing what she’d done.
She walks ever so slowly back to the bar, letting it sink in. But once she’s got her glass in her hand, she downs it in one go, surprising both the bartender and Theo. She shakes her head and then sits back down on the stool, half-laughing.
“Something happen?” Theo asks.
She groans. “I may have made a mistake with Arthur.”
Theo takes a sip of his drink, just the littlest bit smug. “Everything is a mistake if Arthur is involved.”
“I didn’t think he’d—”
“Hello, lovebirds,” says the devil, Arthur coming up behind them with—
With Dazai glued to his hip.
She’s known Dazai for a few years at this point, and because they’ve known each other for so long, there are little things she knows Dazai does that may not seem obvious to the onlooker.
First: Dazai is not fond of touching, but he is rather great at tolerating it. It usually takes a few months before Dazai is fine with being touched by someone. Even she took around half a year before Dazai would allow her to hug him freely. When he’s being touched by someone he does not particularly like, he clenches his hands and fits them into his pockets, so it’s not as noticeable.
Observer’s note: Arthur’s got his hand around Dazai’s waist. Dazai’s hands are wide open, resting at his hip.
Second: Dazai is also good at having his practiced smile. He says he practices it in the mirror, did it every day for a year until it became natural to him; it looks genuine and otherwise believable, that is, if you haven’t seen his actual smile. And even if you have, sometimes it’s still hard to tell. His actual, genuine smile, that goes up to his eyes, crinkling the sides of it, and he flushes sometimes too; it’s so wide it reveals the little dimple on his cheek.
Observer’s note: Dazai’s dimple is very, very visible right now.
Third: Dazai has this thing where the longer he considers a person, the less he becomes attracted to them, for some reason, even if the extended thinking time only makes him feel like they’re a better match by the second. Dazai is only genuinely, passionately, instantly attracted to people he knows will pose him some sort of danger and excitement.
Observer’s note: Dazai met Arthur today.
She bites back the groan that’s bubbling out her throat and grins. “Hello, Arthur, Dazai. Having fun?”
“Where’d you been hiding this cutie all this time?” Arthur teases, squeezing Dazai closer to him. “Much fun now that he’s here. I see you’ve started drinking ahead of us.”
“Just a little,” she says. “Shall we find a table?”
The four of them choose a table in the middle of the chaos—Arthur’s suggestion—somewhere midway the bar and buffet. The tables are for six, and the number makes her remember.
“I couldn’t get Isaac to come.”
Dazai shakes his head. “I told you he said he wasn’t interested. Must be working overtime like he usually does.” He nods towards her direction. “Good attempt, though.”
She frowns. “He should really let loose sometimes… I know he’s good at what he does, but a little, one-night-a-year party isn’t going to hurt him is it?”
“Ohoho, what’s this, have another cute friend I have to know?” Arthur interrupts.
Dazai taps Arthur’s nose gently and she wants to vomit. What has she done. “Isaac Newton, a Ph.D. student from the physics department. Too serious for his own good.”
Surprise fills Arthur’s face. “My, isn’t that Newt? Teaches classes sometimes?” She and Dazai nod. “Small world!”
“Next year we’re really finding a way to drag him in,” she says.
To which Dazai laughs, “you won’t be here next year, Toshiko-san.”
There’s a small sliver of silence that settles in between them, just long enough to be felt but not for the conversation to come to an abrupt halt. It makes Theo flinch a little.
“Then it’s up to you guys, isn’t it?” she takes her second glass of literary cocktail—she doesn’t even know what’s in this one, just pointed at the menu, it was titled Wolf Totem—and downs half of it in one go.
“Maybe if a girl came around to bring him, he’d be more persuadable,” Arthur teases, “Look at my chap Theo over here.”
“So you’re Theo, huh?” Dazai purrs. She throws a glare at him that goes ignored. “Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Theo only nods as a response and she takes the chance to get the conversation back in a direction that makes her a little safer from their teasing. “But no, really, Isaac? Coming for a girl? You don’t know him at all, Arthur.”
“Oh, even the toughest guys fall back to romance, don’t they, Theo?”
Theo throws a glare towards Arthur; it is shrugged off as the newly-formed suddenly-a-couple laughs in unison.
--
Despite the ruckus, the four of them still have some good fun at the party. Arthur Arthur’s non-stop insisting that they play the party games has them rewarded with many things: a stupid award here or there, minuscule amounts of cash that could be used in the future for dine-outs, and even a nice bottle of high-end “water”—it was definitely vodka, the organizers just couldn’t announce it out loud. She and Dazai had to stand up a couple of times to go meet their college-mates in their department, but the four of them stayed mostly together until past dinner—that is until the dance music started to rev up, getting ready for the long night ahead.
“Excuse the two of us, we’re going to do some actual dancing, like people do at parties to have fun,” Arthur says, but his face is already littered in glitter from the poppers and his face is dusted pink from all the alcohol. Obviously, dancing isn’t required to have fun at all. Taking Dazai’s hand like a gentleman, sliding his arm around the other man’s waist, Arthur makes a comical bow to which she makes a face. The two disappear into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, and the sight of them so obsessed with each other makes her lean back on her chair to take a sip on her—fifth? Sixth? Ah, who is counting?—nth glass of alcohol.
Wary of being the killjoy, Theo gently asks, “Don’t you want to dance?”
“I mean… you don’t want to, do you?” she asks, facing him properly, glass still in hand. “I just felt like it’d be great to hang out with you here and if you’re not up for dancing…”
“If you want to we should go.”
“I’m not going if you’re forcing yourself to.”
“No, I’m not, so—”
“Theo, sit down!” she says, laughing. The alcohol’s given her skin a beautiful pink flush, and her smiles have turned wider, more relaxed. “It’s okay, I promise. Just sit here and drink your—drink. It’s just nice to have company.”
He nods as she turns back to watching the crowd. A smile still settles on her face as she watches the mass of people dancing and shouting to the music. Theo asks, “Do you always go here with someone?”
She shrugs, taking another sip from her glass. “I came alone the first time, and then the next I went with Dazai. He’s pretty popular—when he’s alone, without anyone slung on him, you know? Lots of people dance with him.”
“And you?”
“Me?” she asks, forehead wrinkling. “I’m normal. I sit and drink until my liver begs me to stop. And then dance until my legs beg me to stop when I’m drunk enough.”
He scoffs, but only in that friendly way of defeated acceptance. “Sounds like fun.”
“So much more fun with you around though,” she asserts, tilting her glass to him. “Cheers?”
“For what?”
And she’s quiet for a moment, before she raises her glass again, saying, “To friendship and literature, of course.”
Theo thinks that’s good enough. They clink their glasses gently and then drink.
For the slightest of moments, Theo considers asking the one question that had been on his mind since she invited him to the party. Preparing the clothes to wear to the event only made his curiosity even stronger, but at the same time, he didn’t feel like he had the right to ask. Theo feels content sitting in his uncertainty, the mystery of it hanging in the air.
But the alcohol has made him a little more courageous.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot!”
“Why didn’t you go as Celia?”
It’s common for a pair of people to attend a costume party in matching outfits with characters that are paired as well. Celia is Marco’s natural pair in the book. Isobel is not. Why didn’t she go as Celia? Theo would not have minded if she did. Celia was fiery and romantic and could see through Marco’s every disguise.
And Isobel longed and longed and never got what she wanted.
“I kind of felt for Isobel, you know?” she answers, in that hesitant way that makes the asker wonder if it’s because of the embarrassment or because of the half-lie. “She was running away, after all. Didn’t you say that was what I was so fixated on?”
And Isobel is only the circus because she was the way for Marco to get to who he loved. Even before he knew who he loved.
“Wouldn’t have expected that from you,” Theo remarks, taking out his little Marco-journal to dust it away idly. “You seem like the type who always feels extensively for the protagonists.”
It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but then, suddenly, her eyes widen brightly. She puts down her glass and quickly swipes the journal Theo kept with him before pulling him up by the wrist. “C’mon, let’s do the photo booth?”
“What?” Theo staggers up. Why so suddenly? “Who’ll watch over the table?”
She places her little hat on the table. “That’ll save it, let’s go.”
Theo can feel his pulse thrumming under his wrist where she’s holding on to him. Theo does not have the will to argue as she drags him to the makeshift studio on the far end of the hall. Instead, he focuses on her—the way her hair’s held up in an intricate braided bun on her head, the fall of her dress over her shoulders, the feeling of his hand around his arm.
She’s such a weird girl, he thinks.
When they get to the end of the line—a short one, bless the universe—she takes out the two tarot cards in her pocket and hands them to him.
“Switch props for the photo,” she explains.
When they get to the photo booth, they opt for two photos; one for her to keep, and another for Theo. They don't even bother with the poses, both half-drunk, holding up their character props as the cameraman fixes the shot. She settles, standing by his side, arms twined, head leaning toward him as the camera flashes once. And Theo can’t help himself when he turns to face her because of that, and before he knows it—the camera flashes once more.
She’s too far into her drinks to have time to think why Theo’s so concerned about seeing the photos first and choosing which one he wants to keep for himself.
--
It is just a little past midnight when she, Theo, Arthur, and Dazai hop out of the hall. She insisted that it would be better to wait until the end of the night before leaving—making most of the ticket, or something—and the most that they had gotten out of that was a free coupon to a fast-food chain.
That, and this:
She’s half-slung over Theo when she yells at Arthur and Dazai, who are very obviously becoming a little too comfortable with each other, handsy as they huddle together. She shouts: “Jesus, guys, get off each other!”
“Hmm? Right now? Sure, we’d love to, if you don’t mind—”
“NO! NO NOT LIKE THAT!” she yells, pushing away from Theo to nudge Arthur away from Dazai. The new lovebirds just laugh mildly at each other as she huffs and frowns, falling back into step next to Theo. “Oh god, I’ve made the worst mistake of my life.”
“Best mistake of my life,” Dazai says with a slurred laugh, leaning against Arthur. She makes a gagging motion, to which Theo snorts.
Relative to everyone else’s lodging in the university, the van Goghs’ apartment is the one closest to the hall, so the four of them make their way to it, drunk feet stumbling on uneven pavements all the way there. Arthur and Dazai are walking ahead of them—Theo doesn’t know how Arthur knows where he lives, not when he’s never brought him there; that’s a question for a more sober time—and she and Theo walk side-by-side a few feet behind.
She’s not entirely drunk, no, but she’s a little closer to drunk than tipsy, and it shows when she speaks. “Did you have fun today, Theo?” she asks, ignoring the little misstep her conversation has cost her.
Theo has his hands in his pockets, but they’re only seconds away from grabbing her by the arm to steady her. Any minute now. “It was okay.”
She grins. “Great! That’s all I want.” She looks back up in front of them, and Arthur throws one glance upon hearing their conversation, but then quickly looks away. “It’s kinda, uuuuh,” she squints, the words lost. “Different, to hang out with you with ‘thur and ‘zai around.”
See, this is exactly why Theo capped himself off at three drinks. Look—he’s long accepted his less than average tolerance, but to have to babysit a group of drunk college kids… “Bad different?”
“Nuh-uh,” she says. “Jus’ different. Used to only us. ‘t’s nice being alone with ya.”
I don’t want to take care of a drunk you on my own, she hears in her head, and she isn’t quite sure if Theo had actually said it or if it was just a figment of her imagination.
Soon enough, the four of them stumble onto the van Gogh’s front porch, Theo just not-drunk enough to get the key in through the hole. With a click, the four of them are greeted by the bright light of the living room. Arthur must have been the one that hissed. They stagger in, Dazai slamming onto the sofa, Arthur right after him, and she, heading to the refrigerator for some water.
Theo disappears for a moment to check on Vincent in the studio and to tell him that he’s brought his unfortunate group of friends to sober up, and it’s a good thing the drunkards aren’t around with him because the brightness of Vincent’s smile would have knocked them right out.
“I’ll go take a shower,” Theo announces to no one in particular, shouting down the hall as he disappears into his shared bedroom with Vincent. She tries not to think of what that would look like, blaming her wandering thoughts on the alcohol. She’s about on her second glass of water when she spots Vincent headed to the kitchen.
She beams. “Vin-ny~” she reaches out to him and Vincent catches her before she falls.
“Did you have fun at the party?” Vincent asks, half-laughing, as he helps her to sit on the counter—which was what she was trying to do. “How much did you drink?”
She raises her hands up to her face and tries to count, fully knowing she stopped counting after the second glass. “Enough to make me happy,” she answers instead, smiling dumbly at the older van Gogh. “Theo was so grumpy.”
“He was so excited to go, though,” Vincent says, standing next to her. Of course he has no qualms ratting on his younger brother like that. “You should have seen him, preparing for his costume. Did he look just as you imagined?”
“…And better,” she admits, before taking a sip of the water again to sober up a little more. The ice in the glass is helping her brain to chill. “I’m not sure if he had fun, though. I feel kind of bad.”
Vincent hums. “He looks like he had fun. He wouldn’t have brought you guys here otherwise.”
“You think so?” she asks, eyes wide. The blond man laughs.
“I know so.”
By the time Theo comes out of the shower, he’s a little more dressed down, in jeans and a button-up shirt. He looks at Arthur and Dazai, both already long out like a light on the couch, and sighs.
“I suppose you’re sleeping here too,” he asks, looking toward her. She shoots him an awkward grin.
“She can sleep on my bed,” Vincent offers, but Theo shakes his head.
“She can sleep on mine. You sleep on your bed tonight, Vincent. I can sleep in the studio. I’ll just pass by the drugstore a few blocks down for some…” he frowns at Arthur and Dazai, “…Ibuprofen, for tomorrow.”
“Take care on your way out,” Vincent answers, taking a scan at Theo up and down to see if he’s sober enough to go out. Theo really didn’t drink a lot—purposefully, he knew this was going to happen—so he’s standing pretty straight. He nods and makes his way out, the door closing with a gentle click.
After that, she slouches next to Vincent, like she was just holding herself up to seem a little put together for Theo. Vincent pats her on the head gently, like a little child.
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
She sniffles a little, looking down at her shoes. “I was just thinking h’much I’ll miss this.”
“Are you going away?”
“Maybe,” she says, idly. “I want to. Don’t want to. Want to.”
Vincent smiles, the kind of disappointed-but-not-surprised, non-judgmental, gentle smile of an older brother one would give to a younger sibling. Carefully, he hooks her arm around his shoulders, saying, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” as he leads her to his shared room with Theo. She is pliant in his arms, legs wobbling but still planted with a balance onto the floor.
The costume she’s in doesn’t look entirely too comfortable to sleep in, so he offers her a loose shirt and some sweatpants to change into. It takes her two minutes too long to fumble into them, but right before he begins to get worried that she’s gotten stuck in the fabric, she knocks at the door to tell Vincent she’s done. He walks in with a glass of water.
“One last before you sleep,” he says, assisting her in drinking. “I hope you don’t have a headache tomorrow.”
But she’s intoxicated, and her brain doesn’t follow along with Vincent, so as she’s drinking the water her eyes are wandering the walls, where various canvases are hung. All of them are Vincent’s, and most of them are unframed, and perhaps have never been seen by anyone besides Vincent and Theo. Once the glass is empty, she turns to Vincent with a glazed look in her eye.
“Do you think there’s going to be something greater for us outside of this place?”
He blinks, taken off guard. She has officially transitioned from clingy, whiny drunk, to having an existential crisis, philosophical drunk. He only laughs lightly, placing the glass on the bedside table as he coaxes her into bed, tucking her under the blanket.
“I sure do hope so.”
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Tree House Kisses, Chapter 21 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica
A/N: I am very excited to post this chapter, especially because I get to include this outstanding artwork by my HERO, @grinder-lector-art. It’s the banner on my own blog and every time I look at it, I get a bit weepy-eyed. -V
Also, this seems like a good a time as any to plug the wonderful moodboards that Scorpio made to go along with this story (including a few specifically inspired by this chapter). If you’re looking for previous chapters, click here! Xoxo!
Chapter Summary: Everything falls apart. But it’s Courtney’s party, and she’ll cry if she wants to…
Chapter 21: It’s Raining on Prom Night
“Hello party guests!” Darienne called over the mic. “We are now serving dinner! Please help yourself to the lovely Mexican spread, over by the garden. It is all vegetarian and the trays marked with a pink heart are vegan. Don’t make that face, Adrian, you’ll be fine,” she chastised Adore’s brother. “Anyway, after you have your plate, the birthday girl has requested for you all to take your seats, as we have some entertainment, produced by Courtney and Thorgy and starring some people here tonight...I wonder who?!”
She stepped away from the mic, trying to help usher people towards the food, especially the slower-moving adults and the cheerleaders who were still on the dance floor fooling around.
“Mrs. Del Rio!” she beckoned Roy’s mom over. “Look, only a few people know this, but there’s a secret tray of chicken under the veggie skewers. For VIP carnivore guests only. Tell your husband.”
Aida laughed, giving her a hug. “Thank you, honey. Courtney already tipped us off, but we appreciate you looking out for us.”
“I do my best,” Darienne said, winking. She walked over to the main table where Courtney had a confused and mildly irritated look on her face. “Dari, there’s one too many seats here. Is it because of Raja? Didn’t we fix this? I don’t want an empty chair right up front, it’ll look weird--”
“Calm down, it won’t be empty.”
“Well, who’s sitting here?” Courtney put her hands on her hips.
Darienne imitated her pose, hands on her own hips, and leaned in. “It’s a surprise. Go get yourself some dinner, Miss Sweet Sixteen, and don’t worry about it!”
Courtney narrowed her eyes, and after a beat, backed down, pulling Adore and Roy with her over to the food. “I’ve got my eye on you, Darienne!”
Darienne laughed, shaking her head, and pulled out her phone.
-
“Courtney, everything is set up if you want to start the video,” Thorgy said.
“Okay…” she glanced down at her phone again. Still no answer from her dad. “Let’s just wait one more minute, until everyone is sitting.”
“Cool. Tell me when to hit the lights and then--”
“Shut up, Thorgy.” Darienne shoved him out of the way and stood behind Courtney’s chair, covering her eyes.
“Hey!”
“I told you there was a surprise, right? Well...it’s a little late due to flight delays and other extenuating circumstances, but...come on out!”
There were few delighted gasps and squeals from the table, and Courtney exclaimed, “What? What?!”
Darienne uncovered Courtney’s eyes and turned her chair around and standing there, in a black and white checkered dress, was Dela.
Courtney let out an ear-piercing shriek, jumping up and throwing her arms around her old friend. “DELA! OMIGOD! I can’t believe you’re here! How are you?! How’s Seattle?! I miss you! Oh my god!!” Courtney jumped up and down, hugging her tightly.
Dela laughed and hugged her back. “Happy Birthday, sweetie. I missed you too! Sorry I’m late…”
Courtney pulled away, teary-eyed, and sat Dela down beside her. Darienne laughingly moved the place card that had been there (Roy’s) and soon everyone was chattering excitedly and catching up, hearing about Dela’s new school in Seattle. Courtney promised to tell Dela the story in detail of how she and Roy became an official couple after the video.
“And we finally learned the truth of why Adore never liked me,” Bob joked, causing Adore to roll her eyes.
“Is it because you were so annoying?” Dela smiled.
“Absolutely,” Adore said.
“Not,” Bob added.
Courtney filled her in about the family that had moved into her house.
“See the pretty blonde over there next to Gia? Her name is Pearl. She’s really nice, actually. Adore tried to fuck her but that didn’t work out.”
Dela’s eyes widened and then she looked over at Bob, who made an “I told you so” face.
Adore scoffed, offended. “That is not how it went down.”
Courtney shrugged, smirking, and replied with a teasing, “Whatever you say,” and a hair toss.
Dela giggled. “So, I heard there’s about to be some intense walk down memory lane video? Is that true, because I love those, it’s my favorite part of every wedding, every Bat Mitzvah…”
“Yeah, we were about to play it.”
“Go for it! I better be in it though.”
Courtney grinned. “Oh, trust me. You are.”
-
As Adore suspected, the video was incredibly long and cheesy, filled with tons of photos of Courtney, Courtney with her family, Courtney with friends. There were also a lot more video clips than Adore anticipated - from recitals, home movies, including a gem from Courtney’s first day of kindergarten that she’d never seen.
“Courtney, love, please come out! Bob is waiting so nicely!” Karen cajoled.
“NO!” Courtney shouted, stomping her feet, refusing to come out the front door,
Bob, already tall and lanky at five years old, sat down on the front steps, head in his hands, clearly over Courtney and her temper tantrum.
“Courtney, why don’t you want to come out? You love school...” Karen wheedled.
She opened the door a crack and shouted, “I love PRESCHOOL! I don’t want to go to kindergarten! I’m too small! Everyone is going to be mean to me!” She slammed the door with a loud bang, continuing, “NO NO NO NO NO!”
Bob shook his head at the camera, rolling his eyes.
“Roy! Vanessa!” The camera flipped around to catch the Del Rio kids walking down the block, Karen at her wit’s end, begging them to help convince Courtney how much she’d love kindergarten.
Roy scampered inside and emerged 20 seconds later, holding Courtney’s hand, a big smile on her face.
“Roy’s gonna beat up anyone who’s mean to me!” Courtney announced happily, skipping down the steps.
Everyone at the party let out a collective “Awwwwww…”
Roy shook his head. “I was so full of shit. You think I was about to get in trouble by starting a fight my first day of school? That goes on your permanent record. Luckily for me, no one was mean to her.”
Courtney laughed and kissed him. “It was a comforting lie.”
On the screen, young Roy put his arm around Bob and led him and Courtney down the block towards the elementary school. “Kindergarten is great. You get to play all day and sing songs and do lots of fun stuff.”
“Did you like it, Roy?” Courtney asked, gazing up at him.
“I thought it was kind of boring, but I was already reading books. You’ll love it.”
Adore shook her head, chuckling, as the video faded back into photos. Even in first grade, Roy was a patronizing know-it-all.
-
Willam and Pearl dug into their food, plates piled high with enchiladas, Spanish rice, beans, grilled chicken that they’d begged off Adore’s mom, veggie skewers, salad, taquitos, and mini quesadillas, amused grins on both of their faces as they watched Courtney’s baby videos.
A video of Courtney and Adore learning to rollerblade played across the screen. A young Adore was pretty good, compared to a falling and pouting Courtney.
“Attagirl, Lesbian!” Willam cheered, earning a glare from Adore, three tables away.
Pearl leaned over and murmured, “Why does this feel like a wedding more than a birthday party?” Pearl glanced down into Willam’s lap to see him texting someone.
“Or a funeral,” Willam mumbled back, causing Pearl to laugh which was covered up by the chuckles from the crowd laughing at Adore having to hold Courtney’s hands to help her skate.
Willam slid his phone over to Pearl, to show her the texts he had been sending Adore all night. Most of them had been him insulting Adore on her horrible fashion choices during her preteen years. Pearl shook her head, snickering to herself as she shoved another mouthful of rice into her mouth.
“What y’all laughing at?” Alyssa whispered leaning forward on the table.
The screen started off black, a few girls could be heard talking. The camera shook, before a round face framed with red hair in pigtails popped into view.
“Okay, it’s on,” Darienne said before she ran off screen.
“Turn the music on!” someone hissed. Seconds later the music started and Adore ran into view, hair teased huge, in an animal print top and pleather pants. Followed by Courtney, in white gogo boots and a British flag dress.
“Ohhhh, shit!” Willam began cackling with glee.
And then the rest of the girls. April wore a black dress and stilettos, hair ironed flat. Dela was in track pants and a sports bra, and Darienne was in a little pink dress with white sketchers, sucking on a lollipop.
Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
Pearl’s mouth dropped open and Willam covered his mouth to hold in his laughter as they watched the girls prance around the room.
Darienne was a beat behind the rest of the girls, obviously missing steps, and clearly uncomfortable as Baby, comically overplaying the cutesy little girl thing to the point where it was nearly creepy. Dela and Courtney were the most enthusiastic, and seemed to know all the moves (with Courtney as a nearly manic Ginger and Dela really trying to sell Sporty’s “tomboy” vibe).
Watching a younger Adore, who was apparently Scary, prance around the room trying to keep up with Courtney and Dela was absolutely hilarious. Every time they had to turn, she would go the wrong way, at one point crashing into Dela and nearly knocking her over. And April’s imitation of Posh Spice, barely doing the moves at all, an air of “too cool” apathy only added to the overall disorganized vibe.
“This is soooo embarrassing,” Gia whispered to no one in particular, but everyone at the table heard her.
“Gurl,” Alyssa nodded.
WILLAM: Nice moves, you guys could have replaced the real spice girls
ADORE: Fuck off
PEARL: Was this professionally choreographed?
ADORE: Fuck. Offffff!
Adore glared at Willam and Pearl as they doubled over laughing, flipping her phone closed and crossing her arms. She watched them prance around on the screen and couldn’t help, but remember the arguments that took place just for this video to happen.
April, Adore, Courtney, Darienne and Dela had gathered at Courtney’s house and as they sat around the living room listening to the Spice Girls, Courtney suggested that they should make their own Wannabe video.
“Oh! That’ll be so fun,” Bendela said, the other girls nodded excited about Courtney’s idea.
“I’ll go get the camera!” Courtney ran off.
“I’m Posh,” April said.
“I’m Ginger,” Adore quickly called.
“Don’t you think I should be Ginger? I mean I have red hair,” Darienne suggested and Adore made a face.
“You can be Scary,” Adore suggested.
“If we’re doing this, I think I should be Ginger, I have red hair, I’m the oldest. April should be Posh, Courtney should be Baby-”
“No, I wanna be Ginger,” Courtney rushed back into the living room with her Dad’s camera, interrupting Darienne. “I’m the biggest Spice Girls fan, and I love Geri, I--”
“Too late! I already called Ginger,” Adore said smugly.
Courtney’s mouth twisted up in anger, gripping the camera tightly; steam was practically shooting out of her ears. “Adore Delano you know I waited FIVE HOURS at the Glendale Galleria to get Geri Halliwell’s autograph, and I have the British flag dress, and I--”
“Blah blah blah, whatever Baby!”
Five minutes later and Adore and Courtney were still in a heated argument over who got to be Ginger.
April watched on in amusement, happy that no one was trying to take Posh away from her, Dela just wanted the arguing to be over and Darienne didn’t understand why they thought they were more Ginger Spice than her.
“It’s! Not! Fair!” Courtney stomped her foot, crossing her arms and pouting at Adore.
“Yes! It! Is!” Adore mocked Courtney stomping her foot and crossing her arms, “I called it first. So I’m Ginger.”
“If you’re anyone, you’re Sporty,” Courtney rolled her eyes.
Adore took a step back from Courtney, fuming, looking around the room to see the other girls’ reactions. Dela sat down next to Darienne, silently offering her snack to her.
Adore leaned to Courtney whispering, “I should have been Ginger and you know it.”
Courtney stuck her tongue out in response, before shaking her head, “I think you made a good Scary. And you’d have been good as Sporty, too.”
“What?! Now that I think about it, that was a totally homophobic suggestion,” Adore said.
“Hey, if it looks like a duck, and walks like a...well...”
Adore’s eyes bulged and her mouth opened in mock offense, and Courtney laughed, leaning over and kissing her forehead.
“I’m pretty sure I’d be the best choice for Ginger,” Darienne whispered to Dela, who nodded in agreement.
“Well, you’re the obvious Baby, Courtney! Come on!” Adore cajoled desperately.
“Ugh!!” Courtney screeched, then cried, “You know what? We don’t have to make the video at all.” She turned around and tried to run off before Adore stopped her.
“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll be Scary because she has the coolest hair and you can be Ginger,” Adore huffed out in annoyance.
“Yay!” Courtney cheered, wrapping her arms around Adore, planting a wet kiss on her cheek, “You can be Ginger next time, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Adore said, knowing full well that Courtney was lying and that she’d pull the same shenanigans next time, if there ever even was a next time.
“So, that means April’s Posh, Adore is Scary, I’m Ginger, Dela you can be Sporty and Darienne can be Baby,” Courtney turned to the other girls. Darienne frowned, not really on board with the casting.
“Courtney, are you sure you don’t want to be Baby. I mean you’re blonde and cute and would make the perfect Baby,” she tried to convince her one last time.
Courtney frowned, “Do you want to be Sporty?” the tremor in her voice and the look on her face told Darienne that they would be in for another tantrum if she kept arguing, and she didn’t think she could deal with it.
“Fine, I’ll be Baby,” Darienne sighed.
-
“I’m never gonna forgive you for dredging up that Spice Girls video…” Adore grumbled.
Courtney laughed half-heartedly, shrugging. “Sorry boo, it’s my favorite.”
“I loooooved it!” Dela cried happily. “I think we should do it again, like a reunion tour. There's totally room on the dance floor.”
“Uh, how about no fucking way?” Adore retorted, a look of horror on her face. She looked to the others for support, but Courtney was distracted by her phone.
COURTNEY: Where are you? It’s almost 9…
Darienne looked at Adore and cleared her throat. “You know what I think we need? Presents.”
Adore nodded. “Yes!” she exclaimed as Courtney’s eyes lit up happily.
“Great idea!” Roy jumped up to help Darienne grab the gifts and Adore mouthed ‘THANK YOU’ at both of them. Roy smiled and gave her a wink.
-
Courtney sat in a decorated chair, ankles crossed demurely like the princess she was, everyone gathered around her wanting their present to be opened first.
“I’m only going to open a few presents for now,” Courtney announced knowing that she wouldn’t make it through everyone’s presents quick enough. “So, who wants to go first,” she sang, closing her eyes and holding her hands out, making grabbing motions.
Her dad’s parents, Grammy and Papa were the first to pass Courtney her gift, which consisted of a card and birthday money.
“Thank you, so much,” she squealed at the hundred dollars, giving both her grandparents a kiss.
Darienne decided to be the brave soul to go next. “Here you go, Courtney.”
“I wonder what it is,” Courtney shook the wrapped present causing everyone to laugh. She tore the paper off to reveal a beautifully carved frame, painted pink and white. The picture in the frame was taken at Courtney’s 13th birthday party. Courtney started to tear up at the memories that the picture brought.
Courtney stood in the center of the picture, brows furrowed cutely, with icing on her nose, a laughing Adore beside her. Roy was trying to stop Bob from digging his fingers into his slice of cake. Darienne was the only one posed for the camera with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face while April, Dela, Thorgy and Jamin were captured in the background, oblivious to the picture being taken.
“Thank you, Dari!” Courtney sniffed, pulling Darienne into a tight hug.
“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Darienne squeezed her back, “I made it the frame and painted it myself.”
Courtney grabbed the picture frame and stared at it for another moment before sitting it aside carefully, “Thank you so much.”
After Courtney sat back in her chair, Roy stepped forward with his present. “Here you go, princess.”
Courtney took the big bag from him, dramatically weighing it to see how heavy it was. Pulling out and tossing the pink tissue paper behind her, Courtney pulled out the card first. Ripping it opened, her mouth dropped at the season passes to Six Flags Magic Mountain.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you, babe,” she pulled him down her a quick kiss on the cheek, “This summer is going to be sooo fun,” she shimmied her shoulders excitedly at the thought of going to the amusement park all summer, especially since the new rides were supposed to be amazingly death-defying.
“Told you,” Adore cracked. “Whore for danger.”
“Yeah, I’m counting on it,” Roy joked quietly, and Adore made a face at him.
Courtney laughed, setting the envelope to the side, her face lighting up when she dug into the bag pulling out what looked to be lotion and bubble bath.
“Oooh,” she bounced in her seat as she unscrewed the top on the lotion to get a good whiff, “My favorite. You remembered.” She looked up at him with adoring eyes.
“Of course. Keep digging,” Roy urged.
Courtney set the lotion and bubble bath aside, reaching into the bag and pulling out a rolled-up t-shirt. She shot Roy a skeptical look before opening the shirt to get a good look at it.
“A Destiny’s Child shirt,” Courtney turned it around, holding it up for everyone else to see.
“Yes, because you’ll need it for the concert-”
“CONCERT!?” Courtney screamed, scooting to the edge of her seat looking at Roy with huge eyes.
“Yep, my cousin Monica is a dancer on the tour and she hooked us up with some dope seats when they come here in September--” Roy said.
“Ahhh!” she screeched, hopping up out of her seat to show her mom, sister and grandparents what her boyfriend had gotten her (even though they saw the whole thing) and they smiled and gasped in excitement for Courtney. Roy slid into Courtney’s seat, glancing around the room, momentarily catching Adore’s eye and smirking. She smiled back sweetly, letting him have his little moment of glory.
“Omigod, thank you!” Courtney leaped into Roy’s lap, covering his face with kisses.
“You’re really happy? I figured like, jewelry or something...you know, it would be kind of predictable. But this is something we can do together.”
She pressed their foreheads together. “You’re the best boyfriend ever, and we’re going to have the most amazing summer.” Courtney wrapped her arms around Roy’s neck, whispering, “I love you so much…”
“I love you more. Even though you’ve been a real pain in the ass…”
“Hey!” Courtney exclaimed, pulling away, but Roy pulled her back, capturing her lips in a sweet, tender kiss, hands circling her waist.
Dela looked at Adore. “Are they always like this?” she asked quietly, wrinkling her nose.
Adore stuck her tongue out, nodding. “Always. Gross, huh?”
Dela nodded, then poked Courtney on the shoulder. “Hey, birthday princess…” she sang.
“Yeahhh?” Courtney lifted her head, leaning against Roy’s shoulder, slightly glassy-eyed.
“Want another present?”
“Yes!”
Dela handed her a shiny turquoise bag.
“Wait, you really got me a present?! But you came all the way here, you didn’t need to also buy me something!”
“Awww, I love you, and you’re so full of shit!” Dela laughed.
Courtney giggled.
She opened the turquoise bag and found it stuffed to the brim with glittery nail polishes, lip glosses, and a pair of super chic retro sunglasses, which she immediately tried on, pursing her lips in a model-esque pose.
“Gorgeous! See, I knew they were you!” Dela exclaimed.
“Aw, thank you Dela,” Courtney pulled her into a hug, “I've missed you so much.”
Courtney was about to get up, when Adore asked, “Time for one more?”
“I think we can manage that,” Courtney grinned.
“Here you go.” Adore handed Courtney a long, narrow box, wrapped in black glittery paper. The tag said “2005.” “I hope it satisfies your demands.”
Courtney giggled, remembering how she’d made Adore promise that her present would make everyone jealous. She unwrapped the box, opening the velvet lid slowly. Inside was a rose gold charm bracelet.
The first charm Courtney saw was a tiny little bow. She bit her lip, holding back tears, studying at all the other charms. There were some sweet ones that represented them and their friendship, like music notes and drama masks and a little heart, and then a bunch like the bow that seemed to go with the presents she’d gotten over the last two weeks...a tree, a roller coaster, tiny little crutches, a lollipop, a microphone, a hairbrush, a ladder, the British flag.
She laughed at the skull and crossbones, then touched the one beside it, looking up at Adore’s expectant face. “What’s this one?”
“The eternity symbol. Best friends forever.” Adore’s voice was soft.
Courtney lunged forward, wrapping her into a hug, tears dripping down her face, sobbing into her neck.
“So you like it?” Adore whispered teasingly into her hair, holding back tears of her own, trying to keep things light.
“It’s perfect.” Courtney pulled away, tears still falling. “Can you help me put it on?” she asked.
“It doesn’t match your other jewelry--”
“I don’t care,” Courtney sniffled, wiping her eyes with a gloved hand.
“Okay, then.” Adore took her wrist and fastened the bracelet.
Courtney hugged her again, clinging to her tightly.
“Come on, let’s finish dinner so we can dig into that ridiculous pink cake over there,” Adore murmured.
She slung an arm around Courtney’s waist and led her back to their table, glancing at Roy on the way, who had his eyes narrowed at her. She shrugged and grinned at him, feeling a little petty, but knowing her victory was bittersweet. She may have won this round, but he was still the boyfriend.
-
DAD: Hiya kiddo. Hope you’re having a blast. I hate to be a bummer but I’m not gonna make it tonight. I’m sure you’d rather spend the night with your friends anyway. Have a fantastic birthday, I love you loads, and I promise that Katya and I will take you out to dinner real soon to celebrate.
Courtney snapped her phone closed and put it down on the table, straightening out her skirt.
Roy put his hands on her shoulder. “Did he say when he’s--”
“He’s not coming,” Courtney said flatly, clearing her throat.
Adore swallowed, trying to think of something to say that would make her feel better, and coming up dreadfully short. She looked up into Courtney’s eyes, could see how crushed her best friend was, and knew that nothing she could do would fix it.
Courtney looked away from Adore’s sympathetic expression, those hazel eyes so full of concern that they’d make her burst into tears if she looked at them a second longer, took a deep breath and turned towards the dance floor, sighing. “Why are those lights out?”
“What lights?” Roy asked.
“Those!” Courtney pointed to a string of fairy lights that were out, near the dance floor.
“They probably came unplugged. I’ll go check.”
Courtney followed him over to the dance floor, looking around, tapping her foot. “Nobody is dancing. Tomas, can’t you play something more fun? Where’s the playlist I gave you?” She crossed her arms.
“Yeah, sure. I was just trying to keep it kind of chill while people finished dinner. We can kick things up.” The DJ winked at her and opened his laptop.
Darienne walked up and asked, “Hey, babe, do you still want to try and save some of the enchiladas, ‘cause they’re almost gone…”
“WHAT?! We were supposed to save a whole tray in the kitchen to bring to the shelter tomorrow! Who put it out?!” Courtney demanded.
“I don’t know, I’m sure it was an innocent--oh, no...”
“What?”
“It looks like you’re missing an earring,” Darienne said, touching her cheek softly.
“What?!” Courtney cried, panicking.
“Yeah, hold still, it’s probably just somewhere on your dress. Dela, come here, help me for a sec.”
Courtney stood, wringing her hands, as the two girls searched the folds of her skirt. “I can’t lose that earring, I borrowed it from my mom, it belonged to my great-grandmother, oh god, you have to find it, please hurry.” She began to whimper, covering her face, as Grandma Muriel approached.
“Why do you look so distressed, dear?”
“Grandma, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she wailed, grasping the older woman’s hands. “I think I lost Nana’s earring, it must be around here somewhere but I don’t know if we can find it and--”
“Courtney, for heaven’s sake, get ahold of yourself.” Muriel shook her head, walking away.
“Just stop, it’s no use…” Courtney shook Dela off her skirt. “It’s too dark. We’ll never find it.”
“But maybe we can--”
“I said leave it!”
“Okay, sorry.” Dela exchanged a look with Darienne and backed off. “I’m gonna go get some more punch…”
“Uh, Court, I think one of the bulbs in that string burned out, they aren’t working,” Roy said.
“Ugh! Great!”
Suddenly, the cheerleaders stormed the dance floor as Missy Elliott’s “I’m Really Hot” began blasting.
Courtney nodded at Tomas, who winked, and then was pulled into a group of squealing girls by Laganja. That’s when she noticed the red flower on Alyssa’s dress. “Really, Alyssa? You of all people can’t follow a dress code?”
“Step off, Jenek.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m one of the few people here who doesn’t find your diva nonsense charming. I’m not the one. So step. Off. If you know what’s good for you.”
Some of the cheerleaders paused, taking notice of the two girls standing in the middle of the dance floor.
Bob's hand tightened around April’s as he tried to subtly nod in Alyssa and Courtney's direction.
“Five bucks on Alyssa,” he whispered, causing April to snort.
“You're terrible. Alyssa won't do anything but make her run extra laps at cheer practice or something. She's all talk,” April murmured, eyes watching the two girls.
“I don't know, Alyssa has about 20 pounds on Courtney. She could definitely take her.” Bob shrugged his shoulders, pulling April closer as he waited to see what would happen, April’s cheeks reddening.
After staring each other down, Courtney turned on her heel and flounced away, nearly bumping into her mother.
“Hey, love, did you want to do the cake now, or wait a little?” Karen said. “I think people are mostly done with dinner, so--”
“I don’t care!” Courtney snapped. “Whatever.”
“Well, it’s your party, Courtney, so I think you should--”
“Fine! Do it now! It’s not like it fucking matters, mom, it’s just a stupid cake!” Tears burned in her eyes.
Karen looked at her like she was debating whether to smack her across the face or give her a hug. After a few moments, she spoke in a quiet voice. “I’ll go get the candles.”
“Great.” Courtney bit her lip, holding back tears.
Roy took a step towards her. “Courtney, everyone is doing their best, okay? I mean, I know you’re upset about your dad, but that’s no reason to act like a bitch to everyone who’s here, who’s trying to--.”
Courtney narrowed her eyes at him, pushing him away. “This is not about my fucking dad, Roy!”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, babe, whatever you say.”
“Go fuck yourself!” Courtney screeched, shoving him out of the way and storming off the dance floor.
Roy stood for a moment, helpless, knowing he’d done the wrong thing, as “1, 2 Step” began blaring over the speakers, the bass pumping, the dance floor filling up even more, suddenly feeling stifling.
“Good work, bro,” Adore said, thumping him on the shoulder.
“Fuck. I don’t know where she went…” He shook his head.
“I know where she went,” Adore assured him. “Maybe let’s not light any candles yet, though?”
Roy nodded.
-
Adore climbed the ladder, hoisting herself into the tree house and sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Hey.”
Courtney wiped some tears from her cheeks.
“Hi.” She was curled in the corner, in a beanbag chair. Her tiara was askew and her gown was wrinkled, the tulle bunched up around her like a glittery fuchsia cloud.
“Planning to hide in here for the rest of the night?”
Sniffling, Courtney shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Alright.” Adore shoved the second beanbag chair over to her and stretched out. “In that case, I’m sort of bummed I didn’t bring any snacks, but I guess we’ll live.”
Courtney giggled a little in spite of herself, then sniffled as her tears continued to fall.
“I know I’m being awful. Roy was right.”
“Yeah, well, Roy’s always right, isn’t he? That doesn’t mean he needed to say it.”
Courtney closed her eyes.
“I hate that I care this much. I feel like such a stupid fucking baby. But...it’s my first birthday without him, you know?”
Adore nodded, silently taking her hand.
“I just really thought he’d come. I really thought, even though things have been weird and everything, that when it came down to it, I’d still be able to count on him. That he still gave half a shit. I’m so dumb.” She shook her head, tears pouring down her cheeks.
Adore brushed the tears away gently with her fingers, whispering. “You’re not dumb.”
Courtney leaned on Adore’s shoulder. “I even had a song picked out for us to dance to.”
“What song?”
“You Are My Sunshine.”
“Dude. That is so cheesy.”
“I know! That’s the point!” Courtney laughed, fresh tears falling.
“Well...it’s his loss, because you are sunshine. And you’ve never looked prettier.”
Courtney smiled, knowing that she was, at the moment, a tear-stained mess. “Thank you for lying.”
Adore took the edge of a blanket and dried Courtney’s cheeks, then opened her handbag and pulled out a compact, eyeliner, and lip gloss. She got to work fixing Courtney’s makeup and within two minutes, leaned back, pleased with her work. “There,” Adore said, adjusting the tiara on her head, rearranging her blonde curls. “Beautiful.”
“You are, too,” Courtney said softly, gazing up at her.
Adore looked at Courtney and, for a moment, it was if she could really see her. Every insecurity, every desire. She took Courtney’s face in her hands and tilted her chin up. She leaned in slowly and brushed their lips together.
Courtney’s heart raced as she savored the sweet softness of Adore’s mouth. She gripped the tulle fabric of her skirt in her hands, and then before she could blink, the kiss was over and Adore was pulling away again, still looking at her but not in the same way. The walls were back up and it felt as if a chasm had opened up between them.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--” Adore’s voice was hoarse and distant.
“No, it’s alr--”
“We should go back.”
“Okay.” Courtney felt like crying again, and she wasn’t sure why. She just followed Adore, out of the tree house and back to the party.
-
The good news was, the DJ had managed to keep the party going. It seemed like most people hadn’t even noticed that Courtney left, from how much fun they were having on the dance floor. Except Roy, of course, sitting at their table, sipping forlornly out of a pink sparkly cup.
She approached him, nervously biting her lip, adjusting her elbow-length gloves. “Hey.”
He looked up. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a monster all day, and you’ve been really great, like you always are, just the best, and, and you were right, I was upset about my dad, and I’m just...I’m sorry.” Courtney pressed her lips together, trying to hold in her tears. “Please don’t be mad.”
Roy stood up and wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to upset you. But like, this is a birthday party and you’ve been so stressed and irritated, and I just thought--”
“I know, I know.”
“This is probably a totally insane idea, but what if we...keep an open mind here, this is crazy, but...what if we try to have fun for the rest of the night?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Huh...huh?”
Courtney laughed, pulling him in for another hug. “You’re so lame. I love you.”
“Me too, baby.”
“Do you wanna dance?”
Roy put his hand over his heart. “I would love to, but I don’t know that Spice Girls choreography.”
Courtney giggled and pulled him onto the dance floor. “Don’t taunt me, Del Rio, or I’ll make you learn. Dela’s leaving again Monday, and I think you’d be a really cute Sporty.”
“She is the butch one.”
“Good point. Maybe you should be Posh.”
Roy laughed and put his arms around her as the DJ switched to Usher and Alicia Keys singing “My Boo.” Courtney leaned her head on his shoulder, and sighed, glancing around the dance floor. She caught Adore’s eye and smiled at her. Adore raised a pink sparkly cup at her, holding her gaze for a long moment until Willam thumped her on the shoulder to get her attention back.
Courtney looked back at Roy, who flashed his dimples at her and kissed her softly. She felt a stab of guilt, remembering the other kiss she’d gotten that night. But, it didn’t mean anything, right? It was just a friendly kiss, her best friend trying to make her feel better.
She closed her eyes, insides twisting, stomach in knots. Because if she was really honest with herself, it wasn’t the kiss that she felt guilty about. It was that feeling, the moment Adore pulled away, of regret. She dug her fingers into Roy’s shoulders, and he held her tighter around the waist.
Suddenly, she couldn’t stop the tears and she was crying again. Roy cupped her face and kissed her cheeks. “What’s the matter, babe?”
Courtney shook her head.
“One of those ‘it’s my party, I’ll cry if I want to’ moments? Should I just leave it alone?” Roy asked.
Courtney nodded as Roy swiped a napkin from the dessert table and dried her eyes.
“Alright. Come here.” He pulled her close and she fell into his arms, unable to tear her eyes away from where Adore stood with Willam and Pearl, deep in thought.
Adore stirred her punch with a straw as she half-listened to whatever Willam was running his mouth about. She couldn’t believe that she had kissed Courtney, especially in the emotional state that the blonde had been in, but in that moment it had felt so right and that’s what made it all the more wrong.
Adore was a slave to her feelings, and it felt like the more she tried to run from them, the more intense and reckless they became when they caught up to her.
That’s the moment when the lights suddenly cut out and Karen wheeled in the giant birthday cake, decorated with a huge fuchsia bow, black and white stripes, and shiny silver stars. Everyone gathered around the birthday girl to sing, and Adore focused on the sparkler candles, glittering in the darkness.
Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck, the feeling of someone’s eyes on her pulling Adore from her thoughts.
Hazel eyes looked up to find bright green eyes staring back at her. Adore grew anxious, unable to interrupt the emotions behind Courtney’s piercing stare.
Adore wondered if she had fucked up and Courtney was mad at her or even worse, if Courtney knew Adore had feelings for her that she shouldn’t have.
Adore looked away, her chest growing tight as a million thoughts ran through her head.
Courtney continued to gaze at her best friend, unable to focus on the crowd, on her mother and everyone urging her to blow out the candles.
“Babe, make a wish…” Roy said, kissing her temple.
Courtney bit her lip, eyes falling closed as she blew out the candles, not daring to let herself form a coherent thought in that moment. Because if she did, she was afraid of what she might wish for. She opened her eyes back up, and everyone was cheering, while Kimmy began to slice up the cake.
Roy swept her up into his arms again while the lights turned back on and Tomas turned up the music, Beyoncé‘s “Baby Boy.”
Pearl handed a piece of cake to Adore, taking one for herself too. “Dude, let’s go ask the DJ to play ‘American Life.’”
“That song where Madonna raps about her household staff?” Willam asked skeptically.
“Yeah! It’s so good!”
“That’s fucking embarrassing, New Girl.”
“Adore, come on, back me up here! I mean, or ‘Hollywood’ is good too…” she mused.
“I think I’m gonna take off,” Adore murmured, setting her cup down and pulling her phone out of her back pocket, sending a text to Raja asking if she could get a ride so that they could hang out.
-
As the song finished, Courtney lifted her head from Roy’s shoulder, smiling at him. “Thank you,” she said, reaching up and touching his cheek with her gloved hand.
“Anytime,” he replied, flashing those killer dimples at her.
Courtney glanced over to where Adore had been standing, feeling an urge to clear the air, just to make sure everything was okay, but she was gone. She excused herself from Roy, leaving him with Darienne and Dela, and hurried over. To her dismay, Willam and Pearl both reported that they thought Adore had left, and so she tore through the backyard to Adore’s house, shouting her name, finding her leaning on the side of her garage.
Her pounding heart began to slow down as she caught her breath.
“Hi...sorry for yelling, I just…”
“No, it’s okay. Are you alright?” Adore asked.
“Yeah. Um…” Courtney licked her lips, adjusting her gloves awkwardly. “Willam said you left, and I just wanted to find you so I could...I wanted to say thank you. For...for the bracelet. And...everything.” Courtney took another step towards her, eyes soft and misty.
“You’re welcome. Happy birthday.” Adore’s own eyes still had the same inscrutable, slightly guarded expression they’d had earlier. But her smile was genuine.
Courtney wrapped her arms around Adore’s shoulders, burying her face into her friend’s neck and hugging her tightly.
“I love you, Dory.”
Adore closed her eyes, holding her close, trying not to be hyper-aware of the warm breath against her skin, the scent of her silky hair, the all too recent memory of the taste of her.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. As if by some miracle, they were suddenly blinded by headlights as Raja’s car pulled into the driveway. Adore broke away from the hug, waving gratefully to her.
“Um, that’s my...I gotta go,” she told Courtney, who simply nodded. “Goodnight. The party was awesome. And I love you too!” She blew a kiss as she slipped into the car.
Raja tossed a cigarette out the window as she pulled out of the driveway.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Glad you texted.”
“Me too. I had to get out of there.”
“Not into the quinceanera fantasy?” Raja laughed.
Adore shook her head. “Been a long day.”
“Stressful?”
Adore looked over to Raja, the streetlights illuminating her features.
“Yeah,” Adore said, voice only slightly above a whisper, eyes flickering to Raja’s lips.
Pulling up to the stop sign at the end of the street Raja put the car in park, turning to face Adore.
“Well, we all do it. Have a big princess-like party; if we don’t want it our mom’s ‘ll make us,” Raja said lowly, leaning on the armrest.
“Really?” Adore asked, leaning on towards Raja, “Did you?”
“Mhm,” Raja smirked, eyes flickering to Adore’s lips, “My ma made sure that I had an extraaaavagant birthday party. I had a big turquoise dress, my hair done up, the works.”
Adore let out a breathy giggle, “You don’t look the type.”
“No?” Raja raised her eyebrows, slightly tilting her head and Raja’s warm breath hitting Adore’s face made Adore notice that they were closer than she realized. Lips inches apart.
“No.”
“Maybe when we get to my place…” Raja placed a sweet kiss on Adore’s lips-- that had her chasing Raja’s lips as she pulled away, “I can show you some pictures.”
Raja smiled innocently, but Adore wouldn’t let her get away. She needed to forget what happened earlier; she needed to forget her mistake, the way nothing seemed to matter, but them in the tree house. Adore leaned over the armrest, pulling Raja back towards her, pressing her lips into Raja’s harder than the first kiss, desperate to erase the way Courtney’s lips felt against hers. Raja could do that, Raja could make her forget and when the older girl nipped at her lip, Adore let her in.
The position was awkward with the armrest pressed between them, but the feel of Raja’s hands on her, tugging her closer was worth it. Adore gripped at Raja’s jacket, when they broke for air, Raja leaving kisses along Adore’s jaw before Adore guided Raja’s lips back to hers.
Before the kiss could deepen again the girls were scared apart by a horn beeping behind them. They looked up, both startled, as a car sped around them, the driver tossing them the finger.
“Damn, bro, calm down,” Raja said, and Adore giggled, arms sliding back around her neck.
“Come back here…”
#rpdr fanfiction#tree house kisses#scorpio#veronica#adorney#adore delano#courtney act#bitney#rajadore#bianca del rio#darienne lake#raja gemini#bob the drag queen#ben delacreme#april carrion#alyssa edwards#willam belli#pearl liaison#high school au#lesbian au#angst#fluff
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CoS - Chap 14 “A sky full of stars (but you are the only light I see)“
Summary: <<he asked whether it is a date and Logan is pulling the "i am hereby asking for your consent to call this meeting a date - in the romantic sense" card>>
TW: crying, drama (bit), panic, gay gay gay shit, stargazing, soft stuff, sappy logan, past abuse, trauma mention, talks of past abandonment, mentions of past cheating, mentions of trust issues, mentions of violence, empty threats, weapon mention, stabby threat mention, dry humour, mentions of arson, demiboy virgil, thoughts of being broken, questioning (logan and Virgil).
The drama is short and necessary for HURT AND COMFORT
ao3 : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16+ // all
Tumblr: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 (u are here) / 15 / 16 +
My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me
Story under the cut: (Wordcount: ~4,7k)
“Ri, please. I will be home in time, I promise.”
Virgil pushed the cup of coffee closer to Remy in an attempt to appeal to him and somewhat sweeten the deal. The elder sibling eyed the offer with suspicion. Maybe the coffee was not poisoned but Remy might as well treat it as if.
“Alright, alright. Just .. please be here around midnight? I want to be with you when the next day starts. Just this one thing?”
Virgil jumped up and emitted a loud squeal.
“Thanks!!”
Their dark eyes sparkled with warmth. In no time, Remy was met with a bundle of Virgil in his arms and he giggled.
“Now now, what is going on with you?”
He chuckled. His hands brushed through Virgil’s dyed hair.
“Logan asked me out! We will do things tonight!”
They giggled more and snuggled up to their sibling with an energetic smile on their lips.
“Logan? Library kid Logan? I think you told me about him.”
Remy hummed in thought, still carding his fingers through Virgil’s messy hair.
“V, do you feel ready to date already? I don’t mind if you do. I will support you, no matter what.”
Virgil pursed their lips and shrugged.
They wanted to nod but their head did not want to comply.
“I.. I want to try it. I can, um.. I can tell him I don’t want to go further. At least now. I - I don’t know. I really like him. I like him like I like Dee, you know?”
Remy nodded sagely and patted their head in support.
“It’s okay. I don’t wanna roast you about this, anyway. You learned enough in life and if you want advice, I am here for you. I am your wise sibling after all!”
He smirked.
Virgil groaned and leaned away.
“Ewww, don’t do that! You’re just old, Ri!”
Virgil jumped up again and skipped away.
“I need to, like, fucking dress up and shit!”
Remy’s laughter echoed through the rooms.
“Stop laughing you jerk!”, Virgil yelled back from afar, their hurried steps echoing in Remy’s head. He smiled at the rapidly shifting figure.
Once they were in the bathroom to take a shower,, or whatever Virgil did in there, then in their room, in Remy’s room to probably steal clothes, then in the bathroom again.
Virgil seemed to be seconds away from prom.
Speaking of which, Remy thought they never really had a real prom.
He got up to make a small meal for his dramatic kid sibling. They might be about to become a legal adult - one who could drink alcohol, too, not just sign contracts - but they were still such a young baby to him.
Probably, Remy would always see the neonate in Virgil he had been marked with when they “met” for the first time.
He pressed his lips together. He frowned at the toast he prepared.
The professor actually sounded like a suburban supermom who could not cope with the idea of their kid growing up or whatever.
Not that he could cope with it but still.
“Riiii, I am stealing your jeans!”
The addressed adult snorted as soon as he heard it. It took him a moment to compose himself and gain enough breath as he dissolved into the tickling giggles and the light-hearted sensation of situational comedy.
His mouth gasped for breath and sucked in the sweet sweet oxygen so he could laugh even more.
Once he had calmed down, he sighed and put the sandwich together with cheese and put it into a pan to grill it because Virgil liked this kinda stuff. Remy at least gave the kid some fresh fruits too. He glanced at the little bowl of fruit salad he had made earlier.
Yeah, he was not feeding the kid purely bullshit food or anything. He was not a dummy neglectful idiot.
He was supportive. So he would not laugh and go be a supportive sibling.
“Sure, just turn up the legs, so you don’t fall over or walk on them. I want my pants back as they were - please don’t cut them, I will eat your hair dye.”
Virgil passed him in the kitchen.
They were so fast, Remy did not even have the time to turn around to properly look at them.
He flipped the sandwich in the pan, letting the heat sizzle and seize the cooler piece of white bread.
“Yeah, sure, like you would know”
They stuck out their tongue and Remy half-heartedly glanced at them with no fire in his amused eyes.
He did not have it in his heart to poke fun at Virgil when he knew they could boil over at any moment, considering they were probably anxious about this date thing. Well, Remy assumed this but with Virgil tugging at their sleeves and looking at their hands as they sat there in the most oversized clothes that looked punk yet comfortable enough to hide them away.
Honestly, they were a walking fabric storage.
The ripped black jeans were too big and gave them an odd artisan air. Virgil also wore a black dress shirt that looked big enough to accommodate the siblings together. It was kept together by their tie with was loosely tied around their neck and had black and red stripes with little metal chains closer to the tip.
They were shiny and silverish.
As always, Virgil had their black and purple, stitched-up mess of a jacket on that served as a mobile cave for them to retreat to.
They had their piercings on as well. Black rings around their lips, purple gauges in their lobes, one gauge each ear. These were hollow inside but one could barely see through them. One of them had a thin, golden hoop through it and the rest were regular piercings: simple golden studs in line with their naturally warm skin tone.
They were everyone’s emo nightmare and Remy appreciated it.
“You look great, kid,”
Virgil rose their eyes to look at Remy for just a moment before tearing their gaze away and back onto their fidgeting fingers.
An audible sigh could be heard. It was short, void of breath, if that made any sense. Almost as if they were physically exhausted from running a long distance without break. Sprinting, perhaps.
“Oh, Virgil. What is wrong? Who do I need to beat up because I am strong and taller than you and I will take a bitch!”
Remy flicked his wrist majestically, slowly and ever so dramatically to reveal one single finger sticking out among all other peasant fingers bowing to the Queen of Middle Fingers.
“I can and will fuck up a bitch because there is no bitch meaner than me.”
The punk looked at him, eyes weirdly distant. It slowly faded into something like a glare rather than an empty stare into nothingness.
“If you get arrested for some shit, you would just, like, get your teaching license revoked or something. Sounds like bullshit to me, to be honest.”
A grin appeared on their lips, it flinched onto them but disappeared as fast as it came up.
“No, it is okay. It.. just... Anxious and all”, Virgil admitted in a tired voice. They sounded as if energy was lacking but jumped into a rash and pumped up statement after just one moment of pause, “and before you ask, yes, I went to therapy - remember? I texted you and brought you coffee from there.”
Remy nodded carefully and shut the stove before moving over to approach Virgil. The air smelled of salty cheese and it was as alluring as it was sickening but Virgil was not sure which feeling was overpowering at this moment.
They nodded and patted the table. Remy nodded back and gave a small smile in appreciation as he sat down with Virgil, keeping his respectful distance.
“I am scared, um.. just.. anxiety bullshit - not that I am, you know. It is just irrational. Logan is not like this, is not like,, like him, like Nate. Fuck Nate. Logan is not even into chicks, I think. I don’t.. I don’t know, you know? I don’t even know this about him and I am trying to date him and I slept in his bed. Ri, we fucking shared a bed and I don’t even know whether he would cheat on me!”
Something in Remy’s face changed when Virgil spat out the last part, voice getting red and hot in all-consuming anger and.. betrayal.
They hugged themself and buried their head between their knees.
“Breathe, please. Are you with me?”
Virgil shrugged but silently breathed instead of getting further into the conversation. Numbers were counted slowly, it felt like a dragging of time and it was a never-ending burn in their lungs. Their sibling patiently moved closer to hug them and Virgil cuddled up to his chest.
“I am.. I am being irrational. I know I .. I don’t know all about him but neither does he about me and that is okay because it is just dating and I am not obliged to do anything. I-it feels nice to think about being with him and to be with him and if he gives me red flags, I will shoot him down. I just don’t think he would.”
Virgil sighed, looking at their hands again.
“I.. I am doing the right thing. He agreed and we will just have some fun doing dumb things and such. No obligations, no relationship, no stupid cheating.”
They got up and sighed again.
“I, um, smell food..? Please tell me you are gonna feed me, I am a beast when hungry.”
Remy chuckled.
“Get a snickers, you hoe”
Their shoulders trembled as they silently snickered.
“You should eat one. I can bring you disgusting fast food when I come back. Hot cakes?”
Virgil got their hands onto the plate and plopped the toast onto it in silence. They squipped in happiness and got some cutlery.
“I will eat everything you have, Ri, just you wait”, they promised with a sense of playful threat. They settled on their chair, silverware clattering as they dropped it onto the wooden table.
In seconds, the toast stuffed their mouth completely and effectively prevented them from communicating any more comprehensive speech.
“Jwuft fwuh wayt!”
Not that they did not try it anyway. No mortal piece of bread would be able to withstand their sheer will to fucking do it because they could and were not supposed to.
Remy rolled his eyes at the performance.
“Yeah yeah, keep going with your threats. But thanks, I don’t need hotcakes.”
The smaller sibling nodded.
Remy licked his lips seriously. The air changed from a light-hearted playfullness to another shade of depth once more.
“You can text me”, he took a small break to smack his lips. Virgil looked up at him in an unidentifiable mixture of feelings. “if you feel anxious, that is. I will get to you in an instant if you even have a remotely bad feeling. If your friend, date dude or whatever hot bitch you are excited about, is as kind as you perceive him to be, he will understand anything that will come up even if he does not expect it.”
Virgil cronched the toast loudly and hummed.
“Being close to you is about being able to be spontaneous and patient. You know what you need and you know not every person is ready to be this patient and kind. That is okay.”
Their shoulders slouched but they nodded dejectedly. This was like reading the same story over and over but it still affected them every time they got to its synopsis.
“ “m nutt yur problm”, they mumbled in reply and curled up on their chair, still chewing. Remy smiled and nodded sympathetically, his heart on his tongue.
“You are not a problem at all, my heart. You are a stubborn little fuck and you just refuse to die and we will drink on that - as people who refuse to fucking die at all.”
“Evwer!”
Virgil swallowed and grinned at Remy, hands suddenly full of energy as they dynamically scooped up the trophy that was a bit of fruit salad.
“Do I at least look hot? Because I gotta have to blow a nerd off his socks tonight and I wanna do a great job at it. Skirt too much?”
Remy chuckled but shrugged.
“I like you dressed this way or in anything else you feel comfortable in. You definitely are staying true to your aesthetics. You and your date will steal for the homeless, I see?”
The smaller sibling got up to put the dishes into the dishwasher. Their fingers trailed over the machine for a moment as they got lost in thoughts for a bit. Just a moment.
Their phone rang again.
Oh, yes. The alarm.
“Imma get going. I will steal your keys and a hot fucker’s heart.”
The keys fell against one another, creating the sweet melody of arrival and departure, endings and beginnings.
Remy looked after them, a little bitterness weighing their smile down.
Well, it was time to make a cake and wait for Virgil to come back. It would just be a few hours.
***
Virgil slowly walked the last few meters to the door Logan had told them to go to. It was a weird feeling to be visiting the university so late at night. They had not even noticed this had been Logan’s intended meet-up point but once they had closed in, they started growing suspicious.
The science building was not exactly the place they would usually hang around but alas, it was time to test the waters and get into new things and just dare stuff again, right? Life was about daring new stuff all the time and just going a bit further again and again.
Their right hand formed a fist around their phone. The display kept shining into the night, showing them the room number they had sent Remy. The chat was open and they would be able to call or text him within moments, if need be.
The fingers were ready for everything.
They stopped at the door, eyes glancing over the screen to check the number.
Yeah, seemed about right.
Their left hand rose to form a fist and knock the tall door.
Within less than a second, the door swung open and Logan stood in front of Virgil, towering over them.
He.. he looked special this day. No tie, no pretty shoes. He was in a comfortable set of pants, a loose band shirt of Bunny Smashskull with the eye strain of their neon logo version. Even the shoes were just regular old shoes, sports shoes - they looked and worn yet rather comfortable.
Virgil was nearly leaning against his chest. They were so close..
“L-Logan-”
DAMN IT. They had not been ready for this, apparently!
Well - STOP THE STUTTER! WE ARE ALL GAY HERE, TIME TO STAND UP AND BE A REAL GAY HOE!
….go get him, tiger.
Ew, no, Virgil. You are not a tiger, you are a tiny human and you will go get a Logan-date. Uh, like.. wow, Virgil. Just be a normal dude and be .. you… who is not normal.
Hey wait, is that dude talking? Fuck, fuck, talk to him!
By the time Virgil caught themself again, Logan’s lips were moving and they did not listen at all. They shifted from leg to leg and coughed into their elbow awkwardly.
“Uh- Log, I .. I did gay-out for a sec. Wha’did ya say?”
Logan smiled and nodded. One of his hands moved away from the door handle after a last squeeze and instead closed in on Virgil.
They flinched, staring at the intruder.
He only offered to take their hand. Just a hand. Nothing else.
Virgil’s heart was beating fast.
“I was just saying you are stunning as always, Virgil, if not more so.”
Logan cleared his throat. The smaller of the two gave themself a last mental pep talk before brushing over the insider of Logan’s warm, big hands. The upside of their fingernails scratched against his palm, starting from the naturally caved-in middle and slowly tracing over the Logan’s fingers until they reached his nails.
They swallowed and looked up at Logan, fingers stretched out, still. Then, they slowly crooked them to wrap them around Logan’s patient hand.
His face lit up like turned-on fairy lights at the gesture. Instinctively, he squeezed.
If anyone else had been there, Logan could never pretend to not care about feelings-y things and interpersonal relationships. The smile on his bright, vivid face was significant and it changed everything Virgil had ever seen about him.
Their right hand was still clutching their phone, ready to call Remy.
They let go and followed Logan inside, a smile mirroring the taller man.
Now, their heart was beating for a whole other reason.
Panic was only a nightmare in this room.
“Let us watch the stars again”
Logan tugged the smaller emo along, fingers entangled. Hearts beat together like in a drum circle, forming one rhythm and one string of melody.
When they came to a stop, Virgil took in the room properly.
The older of the two looked at Virgil, blocking their view.
“Huh? Whaddup, Log?”
“Can you trust me enough to close your eyes right now?”
Their right flinched a bit.
Logan was too observant of a person to miss even a single bit of detail about his date, especially. They shrugged.
“If you scare me, I might break your nose or stab you. You have been warned.”
Logan shrugged as well.
Apparently, he cared about the lights more than his ribs but who was there to blame him? For him it was a matter of hurt or Virgil and he was more than willing to take a risk for them.
Virgil was not drunk, was not stupid. They were broken and confused and always scared, vigilant and ready to fight. They were feral.
But they were also just a simple person, wanting love, wanting to be surprised and be courted.
Eye lids shut down, heavy and trusting.
His arm rose, one knuckle extended just enough to brush over the light switch and nudge it barely yes just so much, it moved and the light was gone.
“Thanks. You can open them again.”
His voice was low, low like the light in the room. They dimmed down together. When Virgil opened their eyes, the world of little like lights and soft atmosphere was opened up to them. The room, the machines and walls, everything, even they and Logan were immersed in the lights of a thousand stars. They were a part of the universe, they were right in it and surrounded by nothing but the darkness of the night and the light of life.
“...w-wow.”
They muttered, barely audible.
To be honest, they literally had no more breath. It was away, taken and forever with the stars only. They would not get it back but it was okay. It was an exchange.
Virgil got to stand amidst the myriad of lights in the vast darkness of the universe and they paid the tribute with their own breath.
Just like it would be if they were in outer space for real.
“Let us watch the stars we are standing in, Virgil. I want to watch the stars with you.”
The two laid down and stayed quiet and just relished in the view, in the feeling, in being together.
They were lost but did not need to be found.
After a while, Virgil spoke up.
Their voice was timid before the stars and planets of the universe.
“I am sorry about being a little shit last morning. I just.. this was not about you at all and I did not mean to and I know you said it is okay but it is never okay to be shit to someone, even if you have a reason. It is just not an excuse and I was being shitty to you for nothing you did. I just .. I can’t talk to you without feeling guilty and bad, so I got upset.”
Logan was silent as Virgil squeezed their eyes shut and took a deep breath.
“I know you only want to assure I am fine because you are worried and that is cool, it is.. it is nice to be cared for, cared about.. it is just still a bit new to me and such a weird concept. The fact you guys took me in within a moment of just.. seeing me? That is so nice and I cannot understand how complete strangers, new people in my life just become friends this loyal and -and kind.”
Their voice broke. This time, they broke out into sobbing. Instinctively, Logan wrapped his arms around them and hugged them close.
Virgil hid their sloppy self in Logan’s chest. They hugged back with a passion while the taller one had expected a slower and more anxious reaction. The young adults melted into the universe, the the stars and the light of each other.
“It is okay”, Logan murmured into their hair, “it is okay. It is over now. We care about you. We will continue to care about you, even much later in life. Even if things go wrong. You still deserve a nice life and kind people and every bit of love you can handle or have to learn how to handle.”
A torn cluster of giggles worked through their sobs.
The waterfall of tears started flowing harder, wetting the band logo of their beloved band Bunny Smashskull.
“I-I’m sorry”, they cried, “ I.. I mean..”
They curled up against Logan, suddenly being nothing but a small and fragile being in the middle of the universe.
Lost.
No need to be found.
But still found and still appreciating it.
“Don’t be sorry for bad things and people happening to you. In life, people experience a lot of aversive events they would rather not witness yet sometimes we cannot do anything about it, especially in younger years of life. Aversive childhood experiences are actually not rare. Usually, everyone experiences at least a few of them. Your way and effectiveness in coping with it depends on your safety net and other positive or healthy experiences to build your self-esteem and other things among this.”
Virgil snuggled up to Logan and hummed over their sniffles and sobs.
“I .. I know.. I am coping now and h-ave, like, all this therapy stuff and crisis talks and all this shit with friends and all. It.. It is better but you know, like, a little more than one year ago I would get piss-drunk and set buildings on fire and break people’s noses and fuck shit up and be a whole fucking asshole and hack and fight and break any law I could find. Now I am.. so nice and stable..”
Virgil sighed and slowly wiped the tears away.
“I um.. I set something on fire while I was drunk and dumb, I did not mean to do it - anyway, I actually did a good job doing it. I have no regrets. Nobody was hurt but a fraud was uncovered in this whole mess.”
They shrugged.
“If you wanna ditch me, ditch me now, I mean.. I am giving you the official permission to throw me out of space-nirvana. Go, on.”
Virgil lightly pushed against his chest.
“I am not even sure what kinda sexuality I have. I am just saying gay because I don’t know what else to say and because I know I like dudes and I am not even a dude, like, not fully. I- I am a demiguy and I don’t even use he/him all the time, not even right now. I am a mess.”
The emo brushed through their hair and snorted.
“Forget it, you are... you are too good and prefect and great and nice for a messy arsonist and poly-amorous mess of imperfections and societal rejections.”
“Virgil”
They shook their head.
“No. No, it is okay. It is alright. I... I am sorry for just putting this on you all of a sudden and expect you to make a decision. Like, wow, way to be a dick. You are a nice dude, Log. Thank you for the date and the stars. This is the nicest date I ever had in my entire life.”
Their voice was warm with the wonders of the world.
Logan melted at the idea.
He carefully brushed over their jaw, still holding them loosely.
“I will love you, whether you are a man or not. I will love you now and later and when you dropped a book when I made an unfunny joke about chemistry and you laughed. You looked so happy. When you called me for help, you were shattered but you were still full of life and will to live. You met Patton and you two hugged. You never fail to surprise me with your talents. I never knew you were so clever and skilled you could hack, I never knew you fought the government. I never knew but I wish I will never stop to learn more about you.”
He licked his dry lips and glanced at their lips, at their eyes and pursed their own mouth, letting out a whispered “may I?”
His voice was soft. It was soft and Virgil blinked, smiled and stormed forward to experience soft lips. Lips softer than anything Virgil had ever felt before.
It touched them deep inside, brushed their heart, let their chest bloom and glow in feelings, in comfort.
They carefully leaned against Logan and closed the gap their stupid outburst had put between them. Within a fast heartbeat, they rolled over and straddled him.
Chests brushed against one another, pounding themselves into oblivion.
But together.
When Virgil pulled back, their lips were flushed and tingly from smooching so much. Even Logan’s usually pale face was tinted with rosy colours and warm tinges of affection and contentment. The two lazily smiled at one another.
“Consent is sexy, Log.”
Logan snorted, chuckled, laughed out loud and lost himself in the surge of dopamine. He threw his arms around Virgil and tugged them down so they could press their foreheads together and nudge each other’s nose as if it was the only way to communicate his intense feelings for them, the butterflies and glistening tears of happiness in his mortal body.
He was happy.
Really, Virgil seemed happy, too.
For the first time in forever, everything just seemed .. okay. The two knew they had found each other to be the thing they did not need but wanted so bad and deserved as much as any other great good in life.
They had.. arrived.
#Remy sleep#remy sanders#ts remy sanders#sanders sides virgil#virgil sanders#ts virgil#logan sanders#ts logan#Analogical#ts analogical#fanfiction#fanfic#fanficion#ts fanfiction#sanders sides fanfiction#anxceit#polyam shipping#polyship#joey writes#they he
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keep calm and let HR handle it [V/VI]
Rey managed to go a full year without ever directly interacting with her new CEO, but now it seems like he’s dropping by her office every single week.
(Because what else is a love-struck fool to do when he falls for his head of HR other than find reasons to visit her department?)
OR: five times Ben gets summoned down to HR, and one time Rey gets called into the CEO’s office, based on this prompt from @optimisticsprinkles: “Rey as the director of HR at [office] and Kylo/Ben starts finding reasons to be sent down to HR”.
In our penultimate chapter, Rey concocts an emergency in order to lure Ben down to her office. But why in the world would she do something like that??
(Hint: 🎂)
Chapter 4
Also available on AO3.
And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: URGENT
Hi Ben,
I’m so sorry about this, but could you come by in twenty minutes? I know it’s almost lunchtime, but something urgent’s come up regarding next week’s staff lunch preparations.
Warm regards,
Rey Niima,
Head of Human Resources,
The Organa Foundation.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: URGENT
I’ll be there. Is everything okay? And do you want me to grab us something to eat?
Best regards,
Ben Solo,
Chief Executive Officer,
The Organa Foundation.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: URGENT
It’s not a huge emergency or anything, just time-sensitive. Sorry for sounding so panicky! And this shouldn’t take long, so don’t worry about getting food.
Warm regards,
Rey Niima,
Head of Human Resources,
The Organa Foundation.
Rey would feel bad about springing an ‘emergency meeting’ on Ben and potentially disrupting whatever plans he has, but she’d already asked Mitaka about his schedule this morning to make sure she wouldn’t mess up his day.
Predictably, Ben Solo has nothing planned for his birthday.
Scratch that, he has one plan: hole up in his office from the minute he gets in to the minute he clocks out, to prevent any unwelcome surprise celebrations. It’s what he did last year, according to everyone else on the 37th floor, even when they told him they had cake in the breakroom. In fact, Poe says it’s what he did for most of his birthdays growing up.
But not this year, not if Rey has anything to say about it. It’s not like she can’t empathize – she’d spent the longest time hating her assigned birthdate as a child, after all – but ever since Han’s anniversary two weeks ago, something’s changed between them. She can’t quite put her finger on it, can’t quite put it into words, but it’s something that tells her she absolutely cannot let Ben spend his birthday all alone and locked away in a darkened office.
He’ll spend it in her office instead, with a small cake that’s really more for her benefit than his and a card she discreetly passed around the office last week and had everyone sign. She would’ve gotten him a gift, but Rey hadn’t even known his birthday was coming up until she reviewed the monthly employee birthday calendar just last Tuesday and realized Ben’s thirtieth birthday was only a week away.
A week, as it turns out, is not nearly enough time to figure out the perfect gift for your boss-slash-friend-slash-person you get way too comfortable around after two drinks. The cake and the card (and the gift of her company, she supposes) will simply have to be enough, especially since Ben’s supposed to be here any minute now.
He’s almost always on time, if not early, so Rey has no qualms lighting the single candle on his cake and carefully picking it up. She secures the cake in her grip before slowly spinning around so that the back of her chair faces the door, and waits for Ben to arrive. Rose and Kaydel have strict orders not to wish him happy birthday or do anything that might give the surprise away, and her earlier ruse apparently worked a little too well because Ben barges into her office after a series of uncharacteristically frantic knocks.
“I know you said not to panic, but is everything– Oh.”
Rey wheels around with a smile. “Surprise!”
Ben closes the door behind him and leans against it, taking in the scene before him with an almost wary look. “Rey… this is really sweet of you, but–”
“You’re not big on birthdays, I know,” she assures him, setting the cake down on her table so she can wave him forward. “Which is why we’re going to hide in my office for lunch so that the others can’t drag you kicking and screaming to your own surprise birthday party in the breakroom.”
At this, the tension drains out of his shoulders and he happily closes the distance between them as a relieved smile lights up his face. “You know me too well.”
“Make a wish, birthday boy,” Rey says with a grin, pushing the cake towards him. Ben acquiesces, but chooses to maintain eye contact with her throughout the slow and deliberate process of leaning down and blowing out his candle.
It’s… quite a moment.
Rey claps to snap them out of it, and retrieves the oversized card from under her desk to hand it over to him. Finn had told her that last year, none of them had known what to write on the card – on account of the fact that none of them had known the man himself, not really – and so they’d all just signed their names around the standard “happy birthday” message that had come printed on the card. This year, though–
This year she watches Ben open the card, and knows exactly why he grows more and more overwhelmed with emotion as his eyes dart from one message to another, all of them sincere and personalized now that everyone’s gotten to know him better through their weekly happy hours.
She notes a little furrow digging into his brow though, and is ready with a smile when Ben looks up at her. “On the back.”
He closes the card, and sure enough there’s her message to him scrawled across the back, the last one to be written:
Ben,
I know this isn’t what you had in mind for today, but you deserve good days. You deserve good things. And I hope this is the first of many good birthdays we get to celebrate together.
Love,
Rey.
There’s so much more she’d wanted to write, so much she’s left unsaid, but when Ben looks up at her with a painfully earnest smile and reaches across the table for her hand, she knows she’s said enough… for now.
“Thank you, Rey,” he says quietly, his smile as warm as sunshine as he squeezes her hand. “Really, this is… this is already the best birthday I’ve had in years, if not ever.”
An incredulous laugh bubbles past her lips. “Ben, it’s just cake and a card, I didn’t even get you–”
“It’s not just cake and a card,” Ben corrects her. “It’s… it’s getting to spend the day with someone who actually cares. I haven’t had that chance in a long time.”
After everything else he’s shared with her, this… this really isn’t much. But she still cherishes every single secret he trusts her with, every ounce of vulnerability he’s comfortable showing her. “I… I know what that feels like,” Rey tells him in return. “Believe it or not, I haven’t always been the biggest fan of birthdays myself,” she adds with a little huff of laughter.
Ben’s hand is still on hers, and he moves to lace their fingers together. “Because of…?”
She nods. “They didn’t even bother leaving a birth certificate, or a note, or anything. Just a baby, a blanket, and a basket on the front door of a police station, like something out of a movie.” Rey fights off a grimace at the memory. “Did you know my name might not even be Rey? It was stitched into the blanket, but people who can’t even be bothered to write a note wouldn’t have bothered getting personalized blankets, would they? More likely that they got it from a thrift store, or maybe even stole it.”
The soothing motion of Ben’s thumb running up and down the side of her hand keeps her from getting tangled up in that old mess. “Anyway, the hospital figured I was the size of an average one-month-old, but I was also malnourished enough that I could’ve just been abnormally small for my age. They had no idea what to do, so they just listed my birthdate as exactly a month before the day I was abandoned. You can probably see why that never really felt like cause for celebration to me,” Rey says with a shrug and a little smile, the instinct to fake nonchalance at her past so much a part of her now that she does it even with Ben.
He keeps her hand in his, warm and solid and reassuring. “So when did you start celebrating?” Ben asks, gently guiding her away from the darkness.
This time, her smile is sincere. “The first year of college. Finn asked me when my birthday was one day, just out of the blue, like friends do, and I just… I was so hostile about it. But eventually he pried it out of me, in bits and pieces, and that year he threw this huge party for me, to show me how many people I had in my life now, how many people cared about me. And I’ve been in love with birthdays ever since.”
Ben smiles at that, and lets go of her hand when she pulls away to get two plates and a knife, which she makes a show of presenting to him. He laughs as he takes it, and serves them two huge slices of cake.
“I love how you automatically know to make mine super-sized,” she quips as they dig in.
“Maybe we both know each other too well.” He smiles at the thought, and Rey spends a little too long with a forkful of cake hovering in the air, caught up in his bright eyes. They eat in silence for a moment, until–
“I used to love birthdays,” Ben tells her, between bites. He doesn’t quite look up, so she pretends to focus on her cake as well. “I think I was six, the first time my mom didn’t come home for my birthday. And then the next year, neither of them were there. And yeah, they made sure to call and they left cake and presents and a signed card, but… that just made it worse, somehow. Because none of it meant anything if they weren’t there with me – and they almost never were, after that.”
Rey slides her hand back into his, and Ben looks up at her with a smile.
“But you’re here now.”
“I’m here now,” she echoes, and hopes he catches on to the unspoken promise that she always will be, year after year, if that’s what he wants.
He nods to himself, as if he’d gotten the message somehow, and they go back to finishing their cake. Ben laughs when she excuses herself for a minute only to return with a bag of take-out from a nearby Italian place they’ve gone to for lunch a couple times and tells her that they’re doing this all out of order, but they dig in nonetheless and the hour seems to fly by as they talk about their friends and their lives and their plans for the upcoming staff lunch, their first major employee engagement effort.
Five minutes past one, Ben reluctantly gets to his feet and accepts his card from Rey with a sigh. “What’s the point of being the boss if you can’t spend your birthday eating cake and hiding out in HR all day?”
“You could,” Rey points out with a laugh, “but can you really stomach more cake? Because even I’m done for now, I think.”
“Good point,” Ben says with a grimace as he pats his stomach. “Fine, I’ll get back to work then.”
It’s habit by now, for her to cross her desk and step into his arms for a hug before he leaves. “Happy birthday, Ben,” she whispers into his shoulder as they hug.
Warm lips brush against her temple. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Ben tenses before she’s even really registered what he’s just called her, and before she knows it he’s out of her arms and her office, throwing a hurried “Thanks again, see you around!” over his shoulder before the door closes behind him.
Rey blinks as her door slams shut, and a laugh escapes her as her mind finally catches up to the situation and Ben’s reaction to his little slip-up. She’s still smiling as she turns back to her desk and picks up the remaining half of the cake to offer to Rose and Kaydel, both of whom appear to be equally stunned and intrigued by their boss’ abrupt departure.
It’s really too bad that he’d freaked out over it, because Rey finds she quite likes the sound of Ben calling her sweetheart.
.
.
.
This was supposed to be at least ten times fluffier than it is, with a healthy dose of pining... but nothing is going according to plan with this fic. I'm really glad you guys seem to be liking it anyway.
Our next (and last) chapter will feature a bit of a change, both in setting and POV. Time to go visit the 37th floor! I'm hoping to have that up later today, so I'll see you guys then.
Until then, as always: thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it, and please don't hesitate to like/reblog/comment!
#reylo#reyben#rey x ben solo#rey/ben solo#rey/kylo ren#star wars#rey#ben solo#kylo ren#my fics#fic: HR
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You will be mine - Chapter 22. Unforeseen circumstances [Park Jimin x Reader]
Title: You will be mine - Chapter 22. Unforeseen circumstances
➔ Chapter 23. Here!
Pairing: Park Jimin x Female!Reader
Published: 25 June, 2020
Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore
You will be mine Masterlist | Masterlists
As days passed by, Jimin kept a safe distance from me. He barely talked to me, let alone look at me when we were hanging out together. He rather disappeared most of the times, than to be around me and it hit me hard. I didn't think I had done anything to him to distance himself so badly, but it seemed he thought otherwise. I tried talking to him, asking him if I have done anything, but he just said it'd better if we stayed away from each other. I felt useless against his request, not knowing what I had done to him to deserve to be treated like that.
I was trying hard to forget about him and his behaviour and Joongki was a safe option. He was always around me, making me smile even when I felt myself sinking deep into my negative feelings. He was joking around with the dumbest pick up lines or simply watched me with a smile on his face which let's be honest, made me awkwardly blush.
After days of hanging out and enjoying his company, he decided to ask me out again and I knew it would help me to try to forget Jimin. He was safe. He was comfortable. I said yes. In the back of my mind, I remembered Jimin asking me to be careful, but it seemed so irrelevant and I was certain that I knew Joongki enough to know that he was a good guy.
It was already Friday and our date was scheduled to be at 6pm sharp. I took my time to get ready, peppering myself in a hot, soapy bath with face mask on my cheeks, sipping on my wine. I felt like a million dollar housewife.
Yojin was both excited and reluctant. She asked me to go to her house after the date, wanting to know each and every detail of the date. She was almost begging me for it, making me give in at the end. I told her that I would be by her house around 9pm, knowing that I didn't plan on staying out all night on a first date. That just wasn't me after all. Man have a tendency of wanting something more when they can't get it.
I was getting ready, standing in front of my wardrobe with a completely defeated look on my face. I did not know what to wear and I felt shallow for having such problems while others were battling bigger issues than mine. I heaved a deep sigh and started throwing cloths onto the floor and bed, making a mess out of my usually tidy room.
After about an hour of searching and matching competition with my wardrobe, I found 4 possible outfits that I didn't find utterly disgusting.
As a first option, I was holding onto a black cropped jacket and white long sleeved cropped top, along with black leather trousers and high-heels. I liked the outfit, but it had more of a party theme, rather than a date style.
For the second outfit, I tried going for a less revealing choice. It consisted of a black leather jacket, leather trousers and a pair of boots with a grey loose shirt.
I also had a combination for a third outfit which was my personal favourite. An off shoulder black wool shirt and leather trousers a pair of black combat boots.
The last option was the simplest of them all. A plain black shirt with a v-neck line and a pair of leather trousers and high heels.
I have messaged Yojin as I was incapable of deciding on what I should be wearing, especially as I wasn't sure where we were going. I sent the photos over to ask for her opinion, since she had a much better style and understanding of fashion. Seconds later she already replied "Third."
I put on the chosen outfit, used some mascara and sat down in the living room. I barely waited 5 minutes when I heard the doorbell ring. I opened it and found a happily grinning Joongki standing in the doorway with a bouquet of red roses in his hands. I took it from him with a 'Thank you.' and placed into a vase in the living room while picking up my bag.
We headed to his car which was a very elegant, black Hyundai Sonata. The same car my dad was driving, it was hard to miss. He opened the door for me and waited to close it until I got myself comfortable. I walked to the driver's side, took his seat and started the car.
It took us about 20-30 minutes until we got there, but I didn't feel the time. He was joking around about how he wasn't sure what to wear, because he wanted to impress me, but he didn't want to over dress. I found it comical that boys could have the same silly issues like girls.
As we stepped into the restaurant, my jaw dropped at the sight. It was beautiful even if it was borderline cringey. The dark warm lights gave a romantic vibe to the restaurant, while the dark brown oak tables and furnitures made it more elegant. There were no seats, only booths, separating the couple from each other.
A man, who I assumed to be a waiter, lead us to our table, which Joongki had reserved previously. I took a seat and Joongki sat down on my left side, his gaze not leaving my profile as we received the menus.
"Do you like it?" He asked with a cheerful smile.
"It is very pretty. Although it is quite obvious from the setup and the whole design that it was specifically created for couples" I replied.
"I might have had ulterior motives." He grinned, making me chuckle at him as I shook my head.
"Why am I not surprised?" I asked rhetorically. I looked at the menu in my hands, flipping through the pages. The restaurant was serving English and American dishes. Looking at the pictures, right next to the meals, a burger caught my eyes and the melting cheese on its side forced my mind to set on it. As the waiter came back, I gave my order to him with iced water on the side, while Joongki ordered a piece of rare steak with mashed potatoes and a can of coke. As we were waiting for our food, we started talking casually.
"You know, I always see you hanging out with those guys that half the school worships." He scoffed and I could tell he was not a big fan of them.
"Yeah, we are friends. My best friend is dating one of them so it got us closer to each other." I explained with a soft smile.
"And how is it that you are still single." He asked and for a second I wasn't sure how to reply.
"I guess I seem to chose the wrong guys." I replied with a deep sigh, Jimin's face appearing in my mind.
"That's a shame. You deserve to be treated well." He smiled softly and I gladly returned his expression. "I hope I will be an exception." He placed an arm around my waist as he looked into my eyes.
"So far you are on the right path." I chuckled which caused a smirk to appear across his face. He slowly leaned closer, but just about an inch away, I placed my index finger on his lip. "Patience, darling." I smiled lightly. However he didn't take it badly, an even bigger smile appeared on his face.
"Very well then." He replied leaning back.
As we received our meals and started eating, the conversation turned comical. I had promised myself never to order burger or pasta when on a date again. I had sauce around my lips which I tried desperately wiping off, making Joongki laugh at my struggles. Then I decided to cut my burger instead of trying to shove it into my mouth, which ended up falling into pieces. I huffed with an annoyed look on my face, but I could see that Joongki enjoyed my clumsiness.
"Adorable." He chuckled, but I just shook my head as my mouth was full. He kept reassuring me that he didn't mind the mess I created and it made him feel more at ease too. I was glad, even though I was losing my remaining dignity faster than I could have predicted.
As we finished our food I went to the toilet to freshen up, while I sent a photo to Yojin of the restaurant, that I took when Joongki left for the restroom. It took her a couple of seconds to send me back an emoticon with a middle finger. I chuckled at her supporting behaviour, before I exited the loo and placed my phone in the pocket of my trousers.
We walked to the front of the restaurant, where I tried to pay for my part, but he didn't let me, taking my card out of my hand as he paid with his, before returning it to me. Although I didn't mind paying as I was the one eating my own food, it did feel good to be treated like a lady. I couldn't find any fault in him which made my ever growing smile glued to my face as we walked out.
But then Jimin appeared in my mind unexpectedly. I huffed in annoyance, before I hid my displeased expression, not wanting to explain to Joongki my strangest thoughts of the boy I liked while I was on a date with a boy that liked me. It would have been ridiculous.
"What would you say about going to the playground near by?" He asked with a cheerful smile and I looked at my watch, which showed 8pm. I had time before I had to go over to Yojin's so I nodded and followed him as he got hold on my hand, linking our fingers. Walking through the park, with its warm, dim lights, making it a romantic and comforting sight. I felt the evening breeze coming through the trees, sending a chill through my body as the coldness hit my exposed skin.
"It's here." He said pointing at the entrance of the playground. It took us about 10 minutes to get there, but I didn't even realise the time until I looked at my watch.
"It's cute." I spoke with a grin. "Although it's quite dark. If I didn't know you I could have thought that you wanted to kidnap me." I chuckled as the playground barely benefited from the lights of the park, giving it a darker shade.
We walked around the playground and I sat down in one of the swings. He stood behind me and started pushing me higher and higher. I felt like an excited little child. I felt nostalgic and careless. I hadn't been able to enjoy such childish activities for so long, I even forgot how refreshing it felt. I started slowing down and I could feel that Joongki wasn't pushing me anymore. I put my feet down on the ground and looked behind me. Joongki stepped back, making me frown at his strange behaviour.
"Is everything okay?" I asked with a suspicious look in my eyes. I heard footsteps from the entrance of the playground and my head quickly snapped towards the unexpected noise. I couldn't see the person's face, but I could clearly make out his silhouette. I had a very bad feeling all of a sudden and Jimin's warning tone and worried expression came into my thoughts. I swallowed hard at the negative aura I sensed and I felt dumb for not listening to his cautions.
"Well... well... well... what a cute couple we have here." I froze at the familiar voice as I recognised his identity without a doubt.
Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)
#jimin#Park jimin#Jimin x reader#park jimin x reader#jhope#hoseok#suga#yoongi#namjoon#rm#rap monster#jin#taehyung#v#jungkook#bts#bts fanfiction#bts x reader#romance#fanfiction#kpop#korea#jimin fanfiction
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Band of Brothers fluff alphabet: Buck Compton
A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)
The moment Compton walked through the doors he had caught your eye. The men had been joking that someone named ‘Lynn’ would be leading them, one look from you silenced their chatter. They had learned that feminine did not mean weak, having trained with you for those two years reaffirmed that fact. But seeing Lynn (Buck) Compton in person really drove home that he was anything but feminine. You went out of your way to hide the flush in your cheeks from the men around you.
(he also has a nice ass…not that you would ever admit to anyone that you noticed that)
B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)
Buck definitely wants a family. During the beginnings of the war Buck would sometimes talk about his girl back home, boasting about how they were going to get married, and that their children would be absolute knock outs. Hearing this always made your heart hurt but seeing the photo he had of the two of them together you had to agree, their children would be absolutely beautiful.
Near the end of ‘Bucks’ war he changed. It was on Christmas when Buck joined you and Guarnere that he pulled out the photo again and gave it to Bill. “She’s finished with me” he said hollowly. Buck had changed so much since that first day you met him. It wasn’t long after Guarnere and Toye were hit that Buck was sent off the line.
He kept in touch with you and Malarkey through letters. It was through those letters that your dynamic with each other shifted a bit. He opened up more in your letters than he did in Malarkeys. A fact that you didn’t mention as Don was already having a hard-enough time.
A few months later you were hit. A sniper bullet through your lower abdomen had ended your war. You don’t remember much after being hit. Doc over you, mouth moving silently as if asking you something.
You woke up in some form of hospital a few days later. Buck at your side.
You two stayed close to each other after that, sleeping in neighboring cots, before he somehow, eventually, found his way into yours.
When the war ended he asked you to come home with him. So to Los Angeles, you went.
Buck would bring up the topic of children sometimes, but it was always hard for you. The surgeon had mentioned that due to the location of your bullet wound it could be difficult, if not impossible to ever get pregnant. Buck assured you that biological children or not, all he really needed was you.
Eventually, you two filed for adoption, bringing your little boy home had been one of the happiest moments for the both of you. It was about 2 years after you brought him home that you found out you were pregnant. Buck had been ecstatic, you had been terrified. The pregnancy had been rough, you ended up going into labor prematurely, and while that had been terrifying your little girl came into the word healthy, and with a strong set of ‘fuck you’ lungs.
C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)
The man is like an octopus. Every limb he can have wrapped around you he will. Not that you mind though.
D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)
During your time in the hospital, ‘dates’ consisted of card games and stolen cigarettes. Once home he took you to all of his favorite places.
E = Everything (You are my __ (e.g. my life, my world…))
“You were the angel I never knew I needed’
F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)
It happened sometime between the 3rd and 7th letter he had received from you since he left the line. When the newest batch of mail came in and he only received one from Malarkey he got worried. Reading that you had been hit had sent him into a near frenzy. He pulled some strings and managed to get himself transferred. Sitting at your bedside, watching the slow rise and fall of your labored breaths broke something in him. He knew he loved you then, because the idea of losing you had become the most terrifying one he has had this entire war.
G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)
Buck is a gentle, teasing, asshole of a giant. The frustrating thing is he doesn’t even realize it most of the time. The way his hands gently brush the hair off the back of your neck drives your absolutely mental.
H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)
He prefers to have his arm around your waist, hand resting on your hip. He likes the closeness.
I = Impression (What was their first impression?)
Buck came into Easy knowing that one of the few females allowed into the Airborne had been assigned to Easy. He expected some…well to be completely honest he didn’t really know what he was expecting. But it certainly wasn’t you, with your shy smiles towards him, yet you turned around and joked and brawled with the rest of the men. You were certainly an anomaly.
J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)
Buck is a pretty charismatic and confident guy. He also knows that you are one tough gal that will put a man in his place should he chose to ignore the word no. He has virtually no fears when it comes to other men and you. Granted he has no problem coming to back you up should you look over at him with your exasperated “Get this fucker away from me before I am charged with assault” face.
K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)
He did. It happened when you first woke up after being shot. He looked exhausted, but the smile that broke across his face when your eyes met made him almost look like a new man. His lips met yours gently, his forehead coming to rest against yours soon after.
L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)
You and Buck had managed to rig up some form of dartboard after your recovery. As per-usual he was shooting lefty most of the game, changing to his right-hand last minute to win. With a roll of your eyes you muttered “I can’t believe I am in love with a cheater” under your breath. It was a joke (only partially though), but the way his eyes met yours after that was almost electric. Buck kicked himself a bit for not saying it first, but he found creative and teasing ways to say and show you how much he loved you after that.
M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)
Buck has lots of ‘favorite’ memories of the two of you. But the one he probably treasures the most is the day you two brought your baby girl home and she got to meet her brother for the first time. The look on your face, and your sons could have lit up every dark and gloomy place on the planet.
N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)
Buck has always had good job. Be it the police force, or when he became a district attorney you two were never hurting for money. He made a habit of not spoiling your children though, as you both wanted them to be raised knowing the importance and value of things in life.
That doesn’t always translate over to you though. As the mother of his children, and the love of his life he doesn’t mind the exasperated sigh you will sometimes give him before opening one of his newest ‘just because’ gifts.
O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)
He has a hard time thinking of one specific colour that defines you. You are a powerhouse of kindness and love. You brighten everything you touch. So the only word he can really think of is “light”. You are his light.
P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)
While you were both serving he would come up and ask “How is our girl doing?”.
While in the hospital together it changed to “How is my girl doing?”
Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)
While this is not exactly un-modern, he still has the first baseball he ever caught as a child. Its old, and the wear and tear is more than evident, but the sentimental value outweighs its less than appealing appearance.
R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)
Tea parties with the kids. Its almost comical to see such a giant of a man sitting at a kiddy table playing super hero princess tea party (Your son and daughter had already negotiated the guest list). He is nothing if not a good father.
S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)
While in the hospital Buck was still in a dark place, so you two would just squeeze onto the same cot and hold each other. You still do that now, even though two smaller bodies always seem to find their way between the two of you.
T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)
Buck is charismatic and can string words together beautifully. But mostly he just loves talking with your children, listening to them string tiny sentences together that, sometimes, make sense. Your family brings him so much joy.
U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)
His family. While it can sometimes be chaos (especially now that your daughter has learned to climb), being around the three of you has always made me feel better.
V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)
Photos. Of. His. Kids.
Yes, he is ‘that’ dad.
W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)
He would propose on the ship back home. The coastline of home in the distance he would pull out a ring and give you the most beautiful speech you will probably ever hear.
Your wedding will be a bigger affair. Both of your families, Bucks friends from work and school, as many of your Easy company brothers as possible. It is beautiful, and so terribly exhausting but more than worth it.
X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)
When the parties over – Billie Eilish (covered by Garret Garfield) -please listen to his version- PLEASE-
Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)
Yes. He didn’t even wait until stepping foot on American soil before asking you to be his.
Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)
You get a dog. It’s a bigger dog, one with an extreme amount of patience considering your children often try to ride it like a horse.
(I am not used to writing for Buck, and I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to provide enough content…I am almost embarrassed about how long this one turned out to be lol. I hope I gave him the love he deserves!)
#band of brothers#band of brothers fluff#band of brothers x read#fluff alphabet#buck compton x reader#buck x reader#easy company
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Accidentally, Or By Fate Designed ch. 8
also on AO3
ch 8: accidentally an Alvarez
"Don't worry about it", she had said to him. Don't worry about it.
As if it was that easy, she thought as she paced her bedroom floor late into the night, unable to do anything else except worry about it. Worry herself to the verge of an anxiety attack.
Or maybe it would be easy for him. Maybe it was only hard for her to stop thinking about it because her brain was all screwy from the anxiety? Or maybe it was because her skin still tingling from his touch and she found herself missing the faint scent of the cologne she smelled when she was close to him? The pacing helped a little with the jittery feeling that kept running over her nerves when she remembered details like how he smelled, or how soft the hair at the nape of his neck was.
The park wasn't far from the apartment; they had left the batting cages in silence that lasted until they said goodnight when the elevator stopped at her floor. Once home she had immediately changed into her comfiest pajamas but couldn't bring herself to lay her head down. For hours she walked back and forth, worrying about what tonight would mean. What it meant to their friendship. What it meant to the way things worked with the family and in their tenant/landlord relationship. What it meant that she had liked kissing him in a big way and that both surprised and scared her. What it meant that Schneider hadn't wanted to pursue anything further.
She spent an hour on that last question alone before she finally buried her head under the pillow and let sleep silence her mind.
Maybe there wasn't anything to worry about, Schneider thought as he took his place at the table for dinner two night later.
He waited till he knew the kids were home before heading down to the Alvarez apartment. It wasn't the bravest way to face her, but it was effective. Schneider was immediately drawn into conversation with Elena and Alex. He got away with just a friendly nod to Penelope, who had strategically busied herself in the kitchen helping her mother. She hoped her smile in return didn't look forced.
The teenagers had so much to say they monopolized the conversation through most of the meal. Dessert was served before anyone asked about the fancy restaurant. Without awkwardly stumbling over each other's words, Schneider and Penelope managed to give a lively description of the venue and food, as well as a suitably romantic retelling of the engagement to please Elena. Neither mentioned the intimate picnic, or late night baseball practice. Alex lost interested once he confirmed they hadn't seen any celebrities, but apologized to Schneider for ditching him. The adults could tell he wasn't actually sorry to spend the night on a date with a cute girl instead, but Penelope was happy to see she had raised her son with enough manners to at least pretend to be contrite for canceling plans at the last minute.
Schneider caught her eye over papito's head and they shared a grin; he always seemed to be on the same wavelength as her when it came to the kids and she liked being able to share the secret amusement.
Penelope remembered saying to Lydia in one of their many arguments about Victor how she did want someone to raise the kids with, someone to help her handle their unique brands of crazy. Seated across the dinner table from him now, she realized that's exactly what she had in Schneider when she actually let him co-parent the way his heart desired. She dropped her gaze to her plate in confusion. Did that mean the two of them could actually build a life together? Or did she only want to because he was always there for her in the way a husband should be? Because he would be safe and convenient?
Wait, when did she even start wanting to build a life with Schneider?
After zoning out for a moment of internal panic, Penelope finally tuned back into the conversation to find that someone had decided a make-up meal was in order so all the family could go out together. As if they weren't all (except for Dr. B) already eating together right now. They couldn't possibly get reservations at the same place again, but Elena and Alex were just happy to give it a miss if it meant they didn't have to dress up. Lydia had scoffed at their descriptions of the menu and portion sizes. They finally settled on a Korean fusion place near the family's favorite ice cream parlor that weekend.
"That work okay for you, Pen? You don't have any other plans?" Schneider asked her.
He knew what nights she went to her therapy group. He also knew she wasn't seeing anyone and therefore wasn't likely to have a date. He was trying to give her an out in case she felt awkward, in case she didn't want to spend too much time with him. He certainly wouldn't turn down Alvarez Family Night Out for anything else. It was typical thoughtfulness from her best friend and made her smile back at him. Things being weird is exactly what they were both so anxious about, but it wasn't so weird.
It didn't have to be that way if they didn't let it.
"Nope, no plans. Sounds like fun." And so the dinner was set.
Saturday night found them in Button Mash seated around a large square table. The couples, Elena and Syd, Lydia and Dr. B, each took up a side. Penelope originally grabbed the chair next to Alex but the seating arrangements didn't last long. The restaurant had a collection of retro arcade games and after waiting long enough to put in their orders, everyone dispersed to play. Penelope tried a few games she'd enjoyed as a kid but when she spied the server deliver their drinks to the table, she sat down to enjoy her cocktail instead.
She wasn't more than a couple sips in when Schneider collapsed with his usual boneless grace into the chair beside her. Penelope raised an eyebrow at him. This kinda place was exactly his scene; she had expected to have to drag him away from the games to eat.
"I may have gotten a tiny bit over-enthusiastic," He held his thumb and forefinger a scant centimeter apart to show how little, but his face was sheepish. "Elena says I'm not allowed to play Mortal Kombat anymore."
Penelope couldn't help it, she cracked up. His rueful face, the mental image of him yelling at Liu Kang on the screen, and the idea of Elena scolding him the way Penelope used to scold her when she got all loco playing video games. It was too much and Penelope laughed herself helpless.
Schneider couldn't help but grin as he watched Penelope's fit of amusement. He was so, so glad they could still have fun together without things being stilted and uncomfortable.
They could put everything behind them and maintain their friendship.
Except he couldn't put it behind him.
He sat at the table beside her all night, as he hadn't surrendered the chair to Alex when the rest returned to join them. Schneider chimed in the family fun, accepting their teasing with a grin, and it was everything he'd wanted his family to be. But when Penelope threw back her head for another laugh, he realized the pretty picture in his head was incomplete. His gut twisted when he felt his arms itch to reach out to her, to brush her curls back from her neck, to throw his arm over the back of he chair, to trace the three little freckles on her shoulder with his fingertip. He wanted to make her laugh forever to hear her so carefree and joyful. He didn't just want to be in the picture of the family puzzle, he wanted his pieces to interlock with hers.
Throughout the meal he caught himself shifting closer to her as he talked, forcing himself to sit back in his chair whenever he unconsciously ended up in her personal space.
They were all replete at the end of the meal, happy with the food and planning to come back another day. Schneider wouldn't mind if it became a regular place for them. He'd be happy to treat them all any time.
When the bill came he guessed high rather than actually do the math to work out the tip. Then added another twenty bucks on top. It had been such a great night. He signed the credit card slip and passed it back to the server.
"You have a wonderful evening, Mr. Alvarez," the waiter said with such enthusiasm he had clearly noticed the generous gratuity.
Schneider picked up his glass for a last sip of water before the words actually sank in. The reservations were under "Alvarez", it was an easy (if somewhat hetero-normative) mistake to make. It just felt so right, so natural, that his brain hadn't even registered it at first. When he did, a slight jolt of reaction made him miss his mouth and spill his drink. He set his glass down and absent-mindedly swiped at the water on his chest.
He wanted to be an Alvarez. He wanted that more than anything. He had been mostly joking about changing his name; he hadn't actually asked his lawyer, just googled the process one night out of casual curiosity. Schneider knew it was silly to want the name, it was just a name and it was Victor's name at that, it wasn't important to him. Being one of them was. But he was one of them. He embraced that in every way: co-parenting the kids, being a companion to Lydia, helping out wherever he could, supporting everyone when life brought them troubles. He welcomed it all, the good stuff and the bad stuff, because it meant he belonged with them.
So why was he running from possibly the most meaningful connection he could make to the most amazing member of that family?
Penelope realized Schneider had zoned out. Turning to snap him out of it, she noticed his hand rubbing at the damp spot just above the hipster-low v-neck. It immediately reminded Penelope of her get-out-of-the-friendzone move. Which in turn reminded her that if you looked at it a certain way, he had friend-zoned her. Which still kinda threw her for a loop. She never dreamed they would end up in that situation but if she had, she would have bet money that she'd be the one pushing to keep things platonic.
Schneider surfaced from his thoughts in time to catch the direction of Penelope's gaze. He realized what he was doing and dropped his hand; she lifted her eyes to his. She knew he remembered her flirty move, he could tell she was thinking about it. For a long moment neither said anything. Neither looked away.
Did she think he was trying to use the move on her? That would be a really weird play on his part, if he had been doing it intentionally. He had been the one to call a stop to it the other night.
His brain unhelpfully intruded with a memory from the concert where they had spied on Alex. The incident with the bar-noculars had been an accident, but he had learned firsthand how effective her technique could be. Schneider had admired Penelope for years before then and flirted with her more than a little. But that day had seen the first urge he'd had to swoop in and kiss the woman, slip his arms around her and lift her clear off her feet. Papito had been an effective distraction in that moment, but right now...
God, why had he called a stop to things the other night?
When he finally managed to shake that train of thought off, he realized they were the only two left at the table. Penelope laughed when his face scrunched up in confusion.
"Come on, Mr Alvarez" she teased sarcastically, "everyone's getting rid of the last of their quarters before we leave."
Schneider swallowed. He hadn't realized Penelope had heard the server's comment. She hadn't spoken up to correct it, hadn't denied it with the peals of laughter that had met Victor's suggestion that she was dating Schneider. She wasn't even warning him not to get any ideas about making it legal.
She was instead rolling her eyes at him, with a grin that held so much affection, more than he was used to seeing but it wasn't new. Schneider had never really allowed himself to see it before. In part because he struggled some days to believe he deserved it, in part because if he did acknowledge it, he left himself open to too many impossible hopes and intangible dreams. It wasn't a vulnerability he didn't need on top of his sobriety.
But Penelope was someone he let himself be vulnerable with now. So vulnerable; open and honest about things in his past that would scare most people away. He was already laid bare before her, there was little risk she would decide to run away after she committed to choosing him. He knew his bestie, knew how much effort she put into the things she chose to spend her time on, how much time she chose to spend on those she let into her life. How she always had time for him.
Penelope Alvarez didn't settle for just anything.
Which meant she thought he was something special.
As he followed her toward the bank of arcade games, Schneider straightened unconsciously, head held high. Truth be told, one might even say he strutted a bit, suddenly feel 10 feet tall and indestructible. Thankfully Penelope didn't notice the ridiculous display of dignity behind her. The grin on his face grew a little dopey when the little voice (that had just the faintest Cuban accent) inside him reminded him she had seen him looking a lot dumber than this before.
And she still kissed him. With enthusiasm. Despite all the potential complications it could create.
She chose him.
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Thoughts on Sarazanmai Episode 10: “I Want To Connect, But I Can’t”
There’s still one whole episode left and I already want to sue Ikuhara for emotional damages, lmao.
Somehow this episode managed to be even more intense and tragic and shocking than the last couple, and that’s saying a lot.
I was initially worried about whether he’d be able to pull off an 11-episode series, but if the final episode can stick the landing I think this will be cemented as one of this best series.
Thoughts under the cut.
I only just woke up like an hour ago and I already just wanna go back to bed now so I can process all this lmao.
Where to even start with this one. It was such a non-stop rollercoaster of intensity. I actually got surprised when the mid-episode transition card happened because it honestly felt like only a few minutes had passed.
I can’t remember if I ever actually got around to saying so, but I’ve been thinking for a while now that I really wanted to see Reo get his own Sarazanmai no Uta musical sequence, and that’s exactly what I got, and it was just as tragic in it’s implications as I feared.
Even though I technically saw that part coming, I didn’t expect the reveal of them being kappas. I thought that they’d turn out to be otters. But this makes sense in it’s own way. It does raise even more questions about Reo and Mabu’s history, though, especially when you take into account the manga and twitter account. I guess my main source of confusion is that it’s unclear if they’re ‘native’ kappas, or if they’re like the main trio, and they’re just humans who got roped into Keppi’s business and can now transform. The fact that Reo had to have his shirikodama extracted like the main trio makes me lean toward the latter, but the whole thing with them having served Keppi in the past makes me think they might actually be from the Kappa Kingdom.
I’m also still holding out hope that they’ll actually explain how exactly the prequel manga ties into the anime, since they still have yet to explore Sara’s relationship with Reo and Mabu yet. It seems like it’d be kinda bizarre if it doesn’t get brought up at all. It could still just be a prequel and it just hasn’t really come up yet in the anime that Reo and Mabu raised Sara as a baby, but I’m also still clinging onto the idea that the prequel manga might actually be an epilogue [or maybe the result of time being reversed and history changing]. At the very least, the fact that the Tokyo Skytree didn’t exist in the manga might not actually mean it’s necessarily a prequel. Given that it’s the otter’s HQ in the anime, it’s possible that over the course of the finale it gets destroyed, which could allow for an epilogue where it isn’t there.
No I’m not just clinging onto whatever flimsy hope exists that my wonderful gay cop dads might get a happy ending. How could you possibly suggest that? :v
[Fake edit: before I forget, it’s also worth mentioning that even though there’s been hints of Sara being familiar with Reo and Mabu in the anime, which seems to imply that she remembers them raising her, the fact that this episode makes it clear that the two of them were working for Keppi means it’s entirely possible that she only knows them for that reason, and the events of the manga might not have happened yet in the anime]
One way or another, this was the most singularly ReoMabu-centric episode thus far, and oh boy it sure delivered on the emotions, and laid pretty much everything out on the table. There’s still mysteries about their history and what exactly it even means that they’re kappa, but in terms of the more emotionally relevant aspects of their characters and the role they play in the story, this episode ties everything together and brings it to a tragic conclusion.
As I expected, Mabu has always just been Mabu, and Reo’s just been misunderstanding the situation. I mean, Ikuhara’s literally spelled that out in some recent interviews, but still. The show alone makes that perfectly clear, in my opinion. But I wasn’t expecting the whole detail of how Mabu’s mechanical heart was rigged to explode if he ever vocalized his love for Reo. It makes a lot of sense, but I didn’t see it coming. It really goes to show how the otters are just out to mess with people, and that they seem hellbent on destroying people’s bonds.
I initially thought that Mabu just had his emotions impacted by what happened to him, like what can happen to people when they have such near-fatal accidents, and in a lot of ways I think that’s still exactly what his situation is an allegory for, but there’s now a more in-universe explanation for his stunted emotions and how he seems to be holding himself back. Since he apparently literally hasn’t been allowed to express his emotions.
And as if it wasn’t already spelled out enough already, Mabu explicitly declares his love for Reo, before dying. WELP.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, we then got the even more tragic and shocking scene of Reo losing his goddamn mind as he falls into despair while also starting to forget Mabu, which makes him go even more out of control, and then Toi shows up and shoots him to death.
The very fact that they both died is in itself a bit of a can of worms that a lot can be said about, but to put it simply, I’m not genuinely upset about this, since for one thing Enta got revived at the end so that’s at least one gay character who avoided death, and also, the fact that they leaned so heavily into the tragedy and sadness with Reo and Mabu in the second to last episode makes me think that stuff will happen in the finale to give them a more happy/bittersweet ending. At the very least, as I said, the anime still hasn’t concretely explained Sara’s connection to them, and I find it very interesting that they decided to oh so conveniently show off near the end that Sara’s headpiece is a plate. I’ve been wondering for ages if the finale would involve a twist ending of Sara producing a gold plate of hope to make a wish of her own, and I feel like that scene was a huge nod toward that possibility. And similarly to how all of the tragedy with Reo and Mabu happened in the second to last episode rather than the last one, it seems important that Kazuki used the gold plate of hope to revive Enta at the very end of this episode, which makes me think it’s more likely that the actual climax in the finale will involve another wish being made.
Since this episode was so heavily ReoMabu-centric, I kinda ended up glossing over the scenes involving the main trio, lol. They were good and all, but I was way more invested in everything else going on. Thankfully since most of the ReoMabu content was covered in this episode, the finale should be more singularly focused on the main trio, so they’ll still get their time to shine.
The scene with Enta and the Otter felt a little too stilted in how it existed to provide exposition for what the Otters are and what they want, but it worked, and I liked the aesthetic of it all. And at the very least we really needed to get a clearer idea of what the Otters are.
I said above that they seem to want to destroy people’s emotional connections, but it also seems like they want to be the ones to then swoop in and control people by becoming their new objects of desire. So it’s less that they’re against connections, but more that they want to have people for themselves. And so we get stuff like the main otter dude trying to ‘replace’ Reo when he’s with Mabu, while also intentionally trying to drive a wedge into their relationship. And the whole thing with him transforming into Kazuki and trying to seduce Enta. And the whole thing at the end with the otter taking on the image of Chikai to lure Toi ‘outside of the circle’.
I’ve been a little iffy on the otters thus far as characters [or as a character, since we’ve basically only seen the one, lol], but this episode helped clear up the more obscure and confusing parts of their role in things. I never really expected them to be much more than representations of concepts that are important to the story, since the whole Kappa/Otter war thing has always just existed to serve as a narrative backdrop and not to be an actual thing that the show ever planned to dive into.
And having their motivation of wanting to destroy connections and monopolize people’s desire spelled out like this helps set up the emotional stakes of the finale. I imagine it’s gonna involve them trying to launch some wide-scale attack on humanity to destroy everyone’s connections once and for all.
It’s kinda funny that even this late into the anime I still have no idea how it’s going to end. Obviously I have a clearer idea than when the show started, but still. There’s just a lot of ways it can go, depending on what sort of ending he wants to tell.
I’m still leaning toward the idea that the finale will be a lot happier than people expect. Maybe that’s just me being delusional, but it does feel like they intentionally ramped up the tragedy in this episode so that the finale could be happier. I at least remember that Utena had a really tragic penultimate episode, and then a much more hopeful and fulfilling finale.
Plot-wise, as I said, I’m placing my bets on the idea that Sara will intervene and use her own dish of hope to do something like turn back time or revive Reo and Mabu [and maybe then insert herself into their lives]. She’s the biggest wild card in the whole story, so I think she’ll be important one way or another. I’m also still holding out hope for the idea that she and Kazuki might have a more important connection than we’ve seen thus far, but there’s not a whole lot of show left to do anything like that with. I’ve seen some people raise the possibility of Kazuki ‘replacing’ Sara, though, which I think could actually make a lot of sense, especially if the anime ends with Sara making a wish that leads to the events of the prequel manga happening.
Though tbh one of the things I’m genuinely most excited for is seeing what the final episode title will be. They’ve all been really relevant to the events and themes of each episode, so one way or another it’ll probably encapsulate whatever theme the ending is going to have. So it should be a pretty big deal. I have a feeling it’ll be along the lines of episode 6′s title and be a more hopeful title starting with ‘I Want To Connect, So ____’, but we’ll see. It might even entirely break the naming scheme and be something different.
And on the note of episode titles, this one just being ‘I Want To Connect, But I Can’t’ really just sums up the blunt emotional tragedy at the heart of this episode. And it really lays bare how that’s basically what every single episode title, except for episode 6, has been about. It’s always boiled down to ‘I Want To Connect, But I Can’t’.
Whether or not people end up being truly satisfied with the ending that Reo and Mabu get in particular, I think there’s a very good chance that the final episode will stick the landing and be really satisfying as a whole. It’s kinda hard to believe that Ikuhara’s managed to pull off an 11-episode series so well, after the bad things I’ve heard about Yuri Kuma Arashi’s pacing, but he’s done a really good job with the pacing and structure of this series. I’m really curious to see where people who’ve watched all of this stuff end up placing this one on their personal rankings. I’ve only watched Utena thus far, but I have no idea how I’d even try and compare the two. In spite of all their similarities, they’re so different that it’s hard to say I prefer one or the other. I think I’ve had a much stronger emotional reaction to Sarazanmai, but that has a lot to do with how I’ve been watching it as it’s come out.
One way or another, I don’t think it’d be very hard for me to end up enjoying the ending. Everything about the show’s central message makes me think it’ll only be bittersweet at worst. Though it’d really be icing on the cake if we find out that the ReoMabu manga is actually an epilogue, and ends up serving as their ‘canon ending’, lol.
#murasaki rambles#sarazanmai#now I'm gonna be spending the next week clinging onto whatever hope for a happy ending I can find
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༄ Swipe, baby! | Part 10 - TihGib Entertainment
Idol!Taehyung x Reader sm/au
< Previous | Next >
➺ Word count: 1,5k
Genre: Crack humor, Romance/Fluff
╰ You both swiped right on each others tinder profile with no pictures of yourselves.
You keep the details on the low; no names, no nothing, only your ages. To keep the interest until the meeting, you started talking casually, but little did you know that the guy that's trying to get into your pants is no one else than Kim Taehyung, Singer of BTS, and little does he know, that you are completely whipped for the man, an army by heart since day 1.
Start reading!
⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣
Fuck.
Everyone would probably wonder how you ended up in this situation, well- you certainly do. Here you are, sitting in a very fancy restaurant, having dinner with a stranger from Tinder. Except for the fact that the stranger was Kim Taehyung. And that he is now drenched in a combination of water and your saliva. You certainly know how to make a first impression.
„I... I should probably..“ Taehyung says, as he gestures circles around his face with one hand and points to towards the bathroom with the other.
„Yes... you- you probably should..“ you say with a nervous laughter as you watch him get up and walk away. Jesus christ. You really did not mean to spit a mouth full of water right into his face when he sat down and you first saw him.
You're nervously sipping on your drink as you watch Taehyung making his way back to your table.
„Should I wait until you're done drinking before I sit down this time?“ he says jokingly.
„No... no it's fine. I'm sorry, just- just sit down,“ you say as you exhale in embarrassment.
„Alright“ is all he says as he lowers himself onto his chair with a little laughter.
„I'm sorry that I spat my drink all over you it's just... I'm not used to going on a blind date with a handsome... stranger.“
You notice how Taehyungs eyebrows twitch for a second as the word ‚stranger‘ reaches his ears.
„Stranger? You don't know who I am?“ he says cocky.
„Well, I don't know anything, not even your name, all I do know that your dick really needs to bust a nut, but other than that...“ you say, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.
„I... uhm, wo-would you excuse me again for a short second?“ Taehyung rambles as he gets up from his seat, hitting his knee on the table, causing his glass to fall over.
„Oh my god I'm so sorry.“ The embarrassment is evident on his face as he awkwardly tries to pick up his glass. You have to hold back a very big grin, and you just wave your hand to signalize him that it's okay if he leaves again. You watch as he leaves while he mumbles a couple more sorry's towards you, and then take one of the napkins to dry the mess as soon as his silhouette disappears behind the bathroom door.
When Taehyung comes walking back, he suddenly radiates an unreal amount of confidence. Pulling his chair back a bit too rough, he sits down nonchalantly with a shit-eating grin on his face.
„So, shall we finally introduce ourselves?“ he says, pouring some wine for the both of you. „By the way, do not worry about the menu, it's already been ordered and paid for.“ he adds, smiling ever so widely.
„Well, wow? I guess? You seem to have a lot of money considering the fact that the food is already taken care of and no one else is in here,“ you say, eyeing your wine as you give it a good swirl.
„Huh, not to brag but- I rented it out so we could have some privacy. By the way, did I ever mention I am the Co-CEO of a famous company?“
„Oh is that so? Which company is that supposed to be?“ you ask cocking an eyebrow.
„TihGib Entertainment. We're casting... well, entertainers.“
You almost snort a laughter as you take a sip of your wine as he answers. This is the best date of your life. Never would you have expected to sit in front of V, but what you really would have never expected, was that you both would play each other.
„Ahh I see, I'm sorry, what was your name again?“ you say as you hold back a smirk that's dangerously tugging on the corners of your mouth.
„Choi Taehyung.“
„Taehyung, okay, got it. Hi. I'm y/n,“ you respond, a warm tone coating your voice.
He's placing his hand on yours as he smiles and this is it. You're choking on your wine. As you're coughing and gasping for air, he's getting up to pat your back in attempt to help you breathe.
„Are you okay?“
„Y-Yes,“ you cough out. „Yes totally okay. I'm fine, really, I'm great, the best I've ever been.“
You're not okay. How could you? You're on a date, with Kim Taehyung, who just happens to be your bias, and he just touched you. Never in a billion dreams would you ever have expected that to happen one day. But as it seems ‚one day‘ is in fact today, and the fact that you started a game you did not expect to take these turns has you, well, nervous- to say the least. On the other hand, it has you just as excited because you are well aware of what's going on while he really is not.
„Well, enough about myself. How about you tell me something about you?“ Taehyungs eyes are piercing through your soul, a very curious expression on his face as he rests his chin on his folded hands.
„Well, I'm a barista, working for a fairly popular coffee-chain. Starbucks, you might have heard from them,“ you say as you giggle with an evil hint. „Well, some of my customers are very pushy. Especially one. He always wants me to call him... daddy.“ you add, paying a lot of attention to what kind of reaction it spurs on his face. You're pleased when you see his tongue poking out, wetting his lip and continues with dragging his teeth across his lower lip in the most subtle way. He's swallowing hard and the way his adams apple bobs in his throat tells you just how intrigued he is.
„Do you like that?“ he asks.
You know exactly what he's talking about, but you can't find it in yourself to stop playing around.
„Do I like what?
„Do you like calling people that? Daddy?“ he asks again, a hint of unpatience evident in his voice as he's fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.
„Well, I don't know, you tell me... daddy,“ you say with a sly smirk.
That's it. That's the moment a low growl leaves Taehyungs throat and you'd be so sure that he'd be ready to jump your bones right in this moment if it wasn't for the waiter that's interrupting you, presenting the dish as he's proudly placing it on the table. Taehyung catches himself again and politely thanks the waiter for his service.
As an Army, you know exactly how to push Taehyungs buttons, you know exactly what kinda game you have to play, the fun part is, that he doesn't. You're pretty torn between behaving like you usually would, or going all out, I mean, this'll probably be your only chance to ever get things going with the Kim Taehyung, so you really don't know. Should you seduce him like you would with any other guy? Should you play into his cards and be exactly what he desires? Not that you're only interested in his dick per se, no not at all, but if you're realistic, that's most likely all you'll ever get and if the chance is served to you on a silver plate, you might as well just take the offer. In the end, thats exactly what you signed up for in the first place.
Therefore, your mind is pretty much made up. You're going for the simple way- you're playing with his primal instincts.
You take your knife and fork and cut a tiny piece of your steak and slowly bring your hand towards your lips and you, just as slowly, take the piece into your mouth. As you begin to chew, you let out a moan.
„This is so good..“ you breathe as you eye Taehyung, who's sitting there, heavy lidded as he locks eyes with you.
„That is such a good... piece... of meat...“ you say seductively and you see Taehyung holding his bottom lip between his teeth and averting his gaze towards his crotch for a short moment. He's painfully pressing his eyes shut and furrowing his eyebrows as he now faces the ceiling, speaking silent prayers to whomever.
‚Almost there.‘
You're smiling to yourself. Men are just so easy. All you need is to give him the final blow.
„Don't you want to eat?“ you ask him with the sweetest of voices.
„Oh yeah. Yeah I do.“ Just as he picks up the cutlery, your foot meets his shin softly, and you lock eyes with him as you gently drag your foot up towards his inner thigh, taking a sip of your glass of wine.
That's the second Taehyung lets go of the good silver and slams his hands on the table, standing up abruptly.
‚Gotcha.‘
„Excuse me,“ he calls out to the waiter. „Could we have the food to-go?“
a/n: wow what the actual fUCK? Ooof this chapter had me: in t e a r s. I laughed SO much as I wrote it, I can't put it into words. This was one of the most fun and crackhead writing sessions I've ever had and oh my god, tomorrow the second part will drop for y'all! Brace yourselves, you're in for a ride. 🤪
Taglist:
@foreverconfused-foreverlost @depressed-philosophers-daughter @hobisbeech @torrentmgc @rjsmochii @xxqueenwxtchxx @messedupfangirl05 @xosetsuna @babyboyjiminn @stray-kids-in-your-area @thefooolonthehill @yeosinlana @sippinpeachtea @stbangtan @kpopkermit @d-noona @sarahleslie123 @sociallyawkwardforever @oodlespadoodle
#bts smau#bts texts#bts fake texts#bts fake chat#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts#kim taehyung#taehyung x yn#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#v x y/n#v x you#v x reader#min yoongi#kim seokjin#kim namjoon#park jimin#jung hoseok#jeon jungkook#love#couple#bangtan#sonyeondan#idol#bts reader insert#funny#crackhead#squad#bts social media au
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The Ballerina and the B-girl Part 9 (Branjie) - Starsha
a/n: Always accepting more prompts for one shots you guys wanna see outta this lesbian AU! Today we have:
It’s Vanjie’s birthday and you betcha Brooklyn is going to spoil her rotten.
Vanjie was awoken abruptly the morning of her 28th birthday to Silky’s big ass hollering at her from the door to her bedroom.
“Bitch wake up its yo birthday! And looks like you gotta a something something from Miss Brooklyn at the front door”
Vanjie shot up in bed, a huge grin plastered across her face. Despite having been dating her incredible girlfriend 11 months, any mention of the blonde still sent her into a giddy spin. She tumbled out of bed, clad in a tiny red silk nightie fringed with lace that had been a previous gift from Brooke. The wealthy CEO took great joy in spoiling her girlfriend, but this particular day was going to be a whole other level of opulence and indulgence.
Upon the front door step laid a dramatic setup; upon a beautiful red love seat sat two presents wrapped in shimmery golden wrapping with red bows, and roses arranged into the letter V. There was a card laid on top, Vanessa’s name penned beautifully onto the envelope. Vanjie just stood there in awe of the effort that had been put into her, and it was only 8am in the morning.
“Bitch you’d better read that card pronto, but when you show us later if there’s some kinky shit in there you should omit it for my sanity” Akeria proposed, also quite stunned at the display in front of her. However, she’d spent enough time around Brooklyn at this point to know that the bitch spared no cost when it came to her small Puerto Rican housemate.
Vanjie picked it up and eagerly opened the envelope, a card with a beautifully written message slipping out. She read it carefully, imagining the words as though her girlfriend was speaking them.
‘Happy birthday my baby, my world! I’m so sorry that I’m caught up at work and can’t give you this in person, so I suppose this will have to do. I hope you like the loveseat, I saw that you couldn’t take your eyes off it when we were at the mall the other day. Unwrap your other presents in private, they’re just for you and me for now ;) you’re going to be a good girl and put them on for me tonight, I’ll pick you up at 8. I’ll see you then baby, I hope you have an amazing rest of your day.
With all the love I have to give,
Brooke’
Vanjie beamed, hugging the card to her chest. How in the hell she had gotten so lucky she had no idea. Silky and Akeria helped her to carry the display back through the house to her room, where she asked for some privacy to open the wrapped gifts. Vanessa perched herself on her new loveseat and settled back with glee at how soft it was, imagining cuddling Brooke on here. The gifts were beautifully wrapped, Vanjie undid the bows on top, before taking care not to rip the gorgeous golden paper.
Her heart stopped as she took in what lay inside the packages. The first was a dress and not just any dress at that. This was a dress that Vanjie had been drooling over for months, had gone into the change-room at the fancy store to try on just for shits and giggles because she could never dream of affording it. It was red, tight and with beautiful shimmery detailing in intricate patterns. It was the kind of dress that made you feel like you were going to walk a red carpet. Brooke had removed the price tag, but Vanjie knew that this thing costed a grand and she was absolutely blown away that Brooke had bought it for her, that it was hers.
The second gift made Vanjie blush with glee even harder than she already was. She was immediately excited when she saw the name on the box, an extraordinarily expensive lingerie brand that she already had a couple of pieces from courtesy of Brooke. She opened it to reveal a gorgeous white set complete with thigh high socks and suspenders, again one that she had dropped over this time online. Vanjie wondered how in the hell Brooke knew what she wanted, then remembering the blonde had walked into the room and taken a glance of the screen whilst they had talked one day. Vanessa had the most caring, thoughtful and generous girlfriend in the world.
‘Thank you thank you thank you babe I love all of my pressies so much!! Can’t wait to wear these for you tonight! I love you, hope work isn’t too stressful. Here’s a pic of the birthday girl for you <3’ Vanjie texted Brooke, taking a picture of herself in her full length mirror ensuring to pull her lip between her teeth and pose all sexy in her lacy nightie.
She knew Brooke loved to see her in anything that she had bought for her, it was Vanjie’s way of saying an extra thank you. She noticed that there was something else in the envelope and almost had a heart attack when she read what it was. She burst out of her room to find Silky and Akeria, both of them sitting on the couch. They had given her presents last night, Silky had given her a couple of candles that smelt like cookies and berries, as well as some nice chocolate. Akeria, the more practical friend, had gifted her a new hair curling wand as her old one was reaching zombie status. She was so grateful that her friends had spent money on her and couldn’t wait to share what she held in her hand with them.
“Ladies looks like I know what we doing today!” Vanjie stated, her voice bordering a yell as always, “Brooklyn gave me a voucher for 3 full day passes to that fancy spa downtown!”
“Fuck yes thank you Brooky Cookie!” Silky yelled, using the name she had coined for Vanjie’s girlfriend. She and Akeria had grown extremely fond of the bitchy looking blonde and not just because she bought Vanjie nice things. The woman was kind hearted and considerate, she always asked how they were when she saw them and never tried to intrude when they were having a housemates hangout night. If she was completely honest with herself, Silky was jealous as hell Vanjie had found a woman like Brooke but she was so happy for her as well. She knew that time with Vanjie living in the house was fleeting, predicting that very soon Brooklyn would ask her to move in.
The trio of best friends spent the day at the spa being pampered; massages, facials, hanging out in the spa baths. It was a perfect day, quality time with her best friends was something that Vanjie treasured. As time rolled around to the evening, Vanjie was in front of her mirror in awe of how she looked in the dress. It clung to her curves and accentuated her waist, the detailing sparking in the light. She felt like a movie star or a princess, snapping a picture to send to her mum. She knew the woman would demand pictures of her and Brooke as well but this would keep her satisfied for a while. Brooke had met her mum 6 months into the relationship, but that’s a story for another time.
When Vanjie stepped out of her room to greet Brooke at the door, both her housemates where speechless at how she looked in her new dress. Brooke had a similar reaction, however an underlying lust was simmering as the blonde drew her eyes over every inch, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Vanessa had a similar reaction to Brooke’s attire, a black jumpsuit with a plunging neckline showing off her cleavage and sinfully tight over her ass.
It was only once goodbyes to Silky and Akeria were said and they were inside of the fancy car being driven by an employee of Brooke’s, that the blonde pulled Vanessa towards her and enveloped her lips in a passionate kiss. Vanjie whined slightly as they separated, Brooke’s hands running all over her body.
“Happy birthday baby. You look so beautiful” Brooke mused, “I’m glad you like the dress” Vanjie beamed and settled into Brooke’s side for the drive, “I love it so much Brooke, I feel like a princess or some shit” at which the blonde giggled.
It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant that Brooke had selected, but Vanjie was confused to see the layout when they walked in. They were lead to a beautiful room overlooking the city lights, with only one table set for two.
“This is a private dining place baby, they let you design a menu and everything so I got you all your favourite things” Brooke explained as she pulled out Vanjie’s chair for her so they could sit down. Vanessa was in awe the entire dinner, Brooke had indeed ordered crab legs, oysters, fish tacos, berries and chocolate chip cookies served fancy style. It was all so incredibly delicious and amazing to be sharing this meal and this night with Brooke. Vanjie’s entire world revolved around the blonde and she didn’t want it any other way, she loved her with all the love in her little heart and it was evident that Brooke felt the same.
“Vanessa, I’ve got a little something else for you” Brooke began, pulling out a small rectangular box from her coat and handing it to Vanjie, “I love so much baby girl and I want you to always remember that” Vanjie opened the box to reveal an extremely expensive looking gold necklace with a heart shaped locket. She carefully opened the locket to reveal her favourite picture of them together, her laying back into Brooke’s arms in the park.
Vanessa immediately pulled Brooke into a thank you kiss and insisted that the blonde put the necklace on her. Brooke’s hands ran gently across her neck and played with her hair, Vanessa suddenly being extremely keen to go back to Brooke’s in search of a flat surface for Brooke to fuck her over. Must have been the oysters. Brooke seemed to have similar ideas, paying the bill promptly before they went out and got into the car again.
Vanjie was surprised when they were dropped off at a very fancy looking hotel rather than Brooke’s house. Brooke refused to explain a thing, checking in with a room booked under her name and leading Vanessa towards the elevators. Once inside, she pushed Vanjie against the wall and captured her lips in a heated kiss. Vanjie kissed back with want and need, whining when Brooke pulled away with a giggle so they could exit and find the room. Once the door was open and Brooke had ushered Vanjie inside, it became evident why this particular room as been booked. Next to the bed there was a stripper pole, and Vanjie felt a flood of arousal downstairs at the thought of what Brooke had planned. The blonde pulled Vanjie against her, hands finding the zipper on the back of her dress.
“As beautiful as you look in this dress baby girl, I want to see how you look in your other present” Vanjie let Brooke unzip the dress and ease it off her, leaving her in the lingerie set. Brooke’s eyes widened and darkened, taking a few steps back to admire Vanessa.
“So fucking beautiful. So fucking sexy” she mused. Vanjie made a move to walk towards her but Brooke shook her head. “No baby girl, you’re not allowed to touch me just yet. Be a good girl and go sit over on the bed for Mami”.
Vanjie was already dripping and Brooke’s dominance only made her wetter. She did as she was told, crossing her legs in the search of some pressure where she needed it. Brooke on the other hand, began to walk around the pole, dipping down to the floor before coming back up. Vanjie was absolutely mesmerised as her girlfriend began a strip tease, taking off her jumpsuit to leave her in black lace panties, suspenders, thigh high black tights and her heels. Brooke’s breasts tempted the hell out of Vanjie, bouncing free perfect and full as she swung around the pole. The blonde dropped to her hands and knees after an impressive pole dance that showed off her flexibility, crawling towards Vanessa. Her breath caught in her throat as Brooke began to kiss up her leg and over her panties where she needed her most. Brooke looked up at Vanjie with a devilish grin, and Vanjie knew she was in for a wild ride tonight.
— many hours later —
Vanjie lay snuggled naked in Brooke’s arms, the blonde lovingly stroking her hair and her face nuzzled into Vanjie’s neck. Vanessa could not remember a single day being as perfect as this in her life. She was so content and so happy, and she knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this incredible woman. Brooke stirred and placed a couple of loving kisses onto Vanessa’s neck, prompting a small moan out of the shorter girl.
“Vanessa, could I ask you something?” Brooke murmured, her usually confident voice quiet and unsure. Vanjie rolled over so that she was facing her and carefully tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“I’m all ears Brooke” she replied. Brooke looked so nervous, placing a hand on Vanjie’s waist to draw her even closer, their legs tangled together.
“I’ve been thinking about us, and where our relationship is going, and I was thinking that maybe you might like to move in with me? I know that you love living with your friends though so I understand if you don’t want-“ Vanjie cut off her girlfriends rambling with a passionate kiss, pouring all her love and soul into it.
“Brooke I want nothing more than to live with you, sleep next to you every night and wake up to kisses every morning. I love you so much” Brooke’s face broke out into a blinding grin, and Vanjie could see happy tears in her eyes. They kissed hot and deep, Brooke pulling Vanjie on top of her and hugging her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
“I love you too” Brooke murmured against her lips, and Vanjie’s heart almost burst right then and there.
#rpdr fanfiction#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#branjie#the ballerina and the b girl#lesbian au#mild smut#fluff#starsha#s11#dance au
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Marketing Belly Master Bait
by kyaada
Ever since Barrett started working at Chunk’s in the mall, he’d developed a bit of a cult following. Barrett’s collection of too-tight tee shirts never failed to highlight every succulent bump and bulge, and the tops combined with packed skinny jeans never failed to impress. Barrett had the most amazing pair of bubbled buns sitting atop mature tree trunk-sized thighs, finished off with meaty calf muscles. Of course, his immaculate fade and neatly trimmed beard gave him a timeless look of masculinity to his handsome features, deep blue eyes, and pearly white smile. When Chunk’s manager realized what a draw his recently hired ex-military muscled hunk had become, he immediately put him in the window-- so to speak.
After Barrett had finished his main tasks, the manager would set him up in a front table alongside the main walkway with one of the biggest sandwiches. Chunk’s was known for their huge stacked sandwiches and fresh breads, warning patrons that they may need to loosen their belts to finish one of the enormous two-handed sammies. The live eating demo was effective in drawing in a variety of customers. At the beginning of the sandwich, lady shoppers would file in to gawk at the handsome young stud while they’d split their lunch and still take half home. Near the end of the sandwich, Barrett would slow down a bit and labor as his stomach filled to the top. His tight tee shirt couldn’t hide his brawny tight bulge, and he’d just lazily lean back in his chair, giving up the thought of sucking it in. The post-sandwich advertisement would draw in the fat hungry dudes looking for a nice full gut, and Barrett would inspect them like cattle as they’d pile in for a good feeding.
A couple of months passed, and Barrett couldn’t help but notice how difficult it had become to squeeze into this hot jeans, much less get them buttoned. The big 6’2” ex-military hunk would stand in front of his bathroom mirror rotating around to inspect his budding love handles and protruding belly, still flexing his biceps to validate his manliness. Barrett would grope each of his pecs with satisfaction, causing each of his nipples to poke out against his tighter tee shirt.
One day, Barrett went into work to find that his manager had decided to double his demo time by having him eat two of the smaller sandwiches, which together summed up to about one and a half of the biggest ones he’d been regularly devouring. Initially, Barrett wasn’t too sure about the idea since he’d already fought especially hard with his top jeans button that morning. The manager upped the ante with two extra-special sandwiches for him, and Barrett happily gorged himself on the thick and meaty deli treats. The manager didn’t want him to have Barrett leave his feeding station for anything, so he brought him several Coke refills to keep washing down seemingly endless sandwich. The manager even brought him a couple of their popular side salads because the big beefer was getting so swollen.
Business was especially good that day late in that lunch rush as lustful fat guys lined up for large sandwiches, drawn in by the potbellied poster boy in front. Barrett just sat there like a god with his thick thighs pushed apart, shoulders back, and his stretched-taut belly bulging out from his marbled beefy pecs to his excruciatingly tight jeans waistband. Barrett applied both of his hands to his blown-up round belly and alternated pushing in with rubbing on each side of the prominent bulge. The big overfed stud breathed shallowly due to how much room his stomach was taking away from his lungs, and he managed a few choice belches that brought in some more wide-eyed guys. Chunk’s manager came out from the back after adjusting his impossibly hard dick in his jeans and approached his prime Grade-A beefball that adorned the front of his restaurant.
Barrett rested his hands on his thighs as the manager came up to him, showing off how the sublimely tight well-worn cotton hugged every bump and bulge, and perfectly outlined his plump belly button. Barrett tilted his head back and looked his manager in the eyes, “Oh my God...I’m so ff-ff-uu-uu-ll-ll-ll-ll.” The manager smirked as he reached down to push around on Barrett’s big bloated belly. Engorged Barrett emitted a combination of grunts and belches, unable to tighten his long-softened abs enough to protect his pregnant belly against the directed pokes and musical thumping. “Sorry, Barrett, we have those new Chunk-y S’Mores Cookies and we need to push ‘em. That means, we’re gonna have to push this stomach of yours a little bit more.”
Barrett’s eyes somewhat crossed as he processed the latest directive. “I dunno. I think ...” Barrett paused to let out a really big burp, “I think I might explode.”
“Nah,” said the manager, “a big strong guy like you? Pfft. That strong table muscle of yours will just s-t-r-e-t-c-h to accommodate extra loading. The worst thing that might happen is that you’ll have to pop that top jeans button.”
“Okay, alright, well, let me get ‘em.” Barrett insisted, scooting his chair back with an obvious noise. Spreading his thighs apart and dropping his hard gut through the open space, Barrett placed his hands on the tops of his legs to push himself upright. It was no small amount of effort lifting his bulk off of the chair, but once he succeeded he had the attention of most of the diners in the seating area. Barrett’s belly was bloated out in a circle in front of him, and the ultra-taut waistband of his ridiculously stuffed jeans was scrunched down to a fraction of its height. Just south of the hefty gut was another bulge that eagerly pushed against the low-rise zipper. The manager followed the wobbling stuffed stud, smiling at all of the attentive chewing faces. It was so difficult not to fixate on Barrett’s widened back and his stout bubble butt, and the manager fought hard not to just slap his fat ass.
Once Barrett was standing, he realized that it was going to be harder than hell to sit back down and continue to eat, so he compromised with the manager to stand at the end of the counter by the register to stuff in his melty delicious cookies. Capturing the attention of a very hefty daddy type in line waiting for his giant sandwich to be made, Barrett smiled at him and stretched his thick arms up in the air. The hem of his overburdened tee shirt inched slowly up the sphere like a curtain rising on a stage as it bared the divine appearance of Barrett’s thick treasure trail and his perfectly shaped deep belly button. The round-gutted daddy ventured closer to the register after being served his thick sandwich and dessert cookies, still captivated with the sight of Barrett’s bare crescent of belly and naughty zipper that had started to escape down its track.
“Well, these sure looked good so I had to have some,” said the fattened daddy, winking at the manager, who stood beaming behind the extra full Barrett. “After all, I gotta keep up my figure. The food is always so damn good and filling here-- I never know when to stop!” The fattened daddy finished signing his credit card receipt and poked the capped end of the pen into the side of Barrett’s thoroughly pumped lunchball. “Looks like I’m not the only one, guy.”
Barrett chuckled as he ran his meaty hand across his swollen gut, “yup, the hazards of the job, I’m afraid. You just gotta remember to stop before you pop!”
The manager put his hand on the big stud’s shoulder, “tell you what, why don’t you go have a seat with this nice gentleman while he enjoys his lunch, and I’ll make you one of our Gut Topper Cake Shakes. Deal?”
“Gut Topper? Well, today, it might just become a Gut Popper...but okay. Load me up...”
The two guys headed off for a table in the back of the seating area near the kitchen. The fat daddy couldn’t wait to start pushing food down his gullet, so he plopped his big butt down and started shoveling. Barrett towered next to the table for a moment deep in thought, then reached under his enormous belly bulge to fight with his jeans button. “Dude, I’m sorry, but these things are cutting me in half.” The fat daddy’s cheeks bulged with food as he witnessed Barrett’s abdominal muscle contortions caused by the stuffed stud’s efforts to suck in the protuberant swell, but finally Barrett was able to pop open the top and breathe a little.
“Ooofff,” sighed Barrett, giving his rounded midsection an invigorating rub. Barrett held on to his zipper as he sat to make sure that the open “V” of his jeans didn’t spread too wide in a family restaurant.
“I couldn’t help but notice those jeans were pretty much painted on ya, big guy,” remarked the fat daddy.
“Yup, I’ve gained a few pounds since I started working at Chunk’s. The manager feeds me up daily.”
“Daily feedings? You might want to get some pants with an elastic waistband so you can expand in comfort.”
Barrett hovered down and planted his meaty bubbles in the chair directly across from the fat daddy, pretty much looking like a leaned-back, very-pregnant Buddha.
“Well, I know what that’s like to plan ahead for such things,” said the fat daddy, “my wife has been overfeeding me for years.” He leaned back and thumped his obvious gut bulge, “can’t say that I mind too much, after all, I love food.” The fat daddy’s eyes cruised over the topography of Barrett’s tight tee shirt. “I used to look like you when we first started dating, well, you about 50 pounds ago and before you stuffed your gut today.”
Barrett chuckled again, his facial expression slowly turning into concentration as he tried to do arithmetic in his head. “...and you’re not as tall as I am. If you don’t mind me asking, how much do you weigh?”
“By the way, my name’s Josh.” Both had to spread their thighs apart to make room for their bellies so that they could lean in to shake hands. “I don’t mind you asking me how much I weigh-- in fact, I just got my 300 pound ribbon at Recipe Club.”
“Recipe Club?”
“It’s something my wife got us into. Just a small group started by women who love to cook or are learning how to cook, and they invite their guys to join them to enjoy their rather prolific production.”
“...and you got a ribbon?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s the opposite of what Weight Watchers rewards, but we watch our weight as well. Watch it increase!” Josh giggled. “Needless to say, the guys get more ribbons faster during the holidays. We have to weigh in when we get there, and some of us weigh again as we’re leaving... just for fun.”
“What a trip!”
“...speaking of trips, we just took the kids through Vegas and then on a Disney cruise, and I can’t believe the amount of food.” Josh continued through frequent large bites of sandwich, “it was like the ideal glutton vacation... I was powerless amongst all those buffets and high-calorie foods! My belly was so damn big and tight at the end of each night that you could have rolled me to our room. Roll... Burp... Roll... Burp...”
As Barrett was drawn in to the imagery of Recipe Club and Josh’s trip of unrestrained gorging, he wondered about the timing of certain things. “So, when did you go from DadBod to DadBalloon?”
Josh got a good laugh out of the pointed question. “Kid number two.”
As they were both still cracked up over Josh being fattened up, Chunk’s manager appeared with a large frosty cup and a funnel. “Okay, Barrett, tilt and open!”
Josh smiled broadly as he detected Barrett’s newness to the concept, though he suspected that he must have beer bonged a little during some wild parties. Barrett wrapped his full lips around the bottom of the funnel opening and the manager pushed it a little farther down into his mouth once he felt his lips tighten up to steady. As he poured the giant vanilla cake shake slowly into the funnel, he was careful not to spill a drop. Barrett’s eyes widened and he put his hand on top of his again-swelling belly. Josh stuffed his face as he watched the bottom of Barrett’s rib cage rise as his bloatation device deployed fully. One of the cooks was returning from his break and stopped by the filling station to put his hand on top of Barrett’s solid round protruding stomach ledge, “wow, it’s a Gut Topper! Barrett-- you’re gettin’ to be a whopper!” The cook couldn’t resist giving Barrett’s barrel a parting slap to hear him grunt.
Barrett’s breathing was getting quite labored towards the end of the giant shake, and his nipples were practically shooting through his ultra-taut tee shirt. The advanced size of the Barrett’s fattened belly coaxed the hem up again to bare succulent skin and dark-colored fur.
Josh nearly choked shoving food into his mouth at such a high rate of speed, but he got down his enormous sandwich just as the manager finished loading Barrett’s firm round Buddha gut. The manager lifted the funnel out of Barrett’s O-shaped mouth as the dangerously overfull stud licked shake remnants off of his lips and continued to swallow the rest down his gullet. Barrett just had to sit there with his hands down his sides, feeling that his beefy pecs were about to bump him in the chin at any moment. The manager nodded his head and reached down to thump the mighty round bellyful. The combination of thick muscle walls, a nice layer of fat, and a thoroughly packed digestive tract made the most sublime of deep satisfied sounds.
“Good God, that melon is ripe.” Josh critiqued, leaning back to rest his hand on top of his big sandwich lunch. “And Barrett bared it-- that shirt is too small for ya, big buddy!”
Barrett’s smile curled onto his lips with a bit of a delay caused by his food coma. After the manager left, Barrett put his hands on his overblown balloon and rubbed.
“Man, you look like how I felt after the 24 hour buffet pass in Las Vegas. You know, I knew that it was going to be a bad thing-- I could tell when I walked in the first place and saw all of the groaning, belching guys. They looked like fully engorged ticks about to pop. Well, that was me a day later because we just kept going back for more and more and more. My lovely bride overate, my daughter got bored, but my son found his groove. I was laughing at him little at breakfast because he’s got a weakness for waffles, pancakes, pastries, and bacon.” Josh laughed as he listened to Barrett wheeze with his eyes half-closed; Barrett’s fully distended gut had swollen even more with the cake shake, pushing him farther back against his chair. “Of course, he got me back later in the day after second dinner. We were back in the room, and I was bloated out on the floor next to the couch while we were all watching a movie. Ever since I read him “Hop on Pop” when he was a kid, he’s wanted to bounce on my belly-- especially after I eat too much. He thinks it’s really funny.”
Suddenly, Barrett emitted a lengthy bass-toned belch, causing both of them to laugh heartily. Barrett patted his thoroughly round belly and flexed his pecs. “I’m pretty sure that if anyone hopped on me right now, I’d pop for sure!”
Josh munched on his cookies and agreed. “You could bounce a quarter off of that gut right now, Barrett. You remind me of some of those big bloated-up young guys on the cruise ship. Poppin’ Fresh Pillsbury Doughboys gorging their way to tight-skinned ecstasy, unbuckling their belts and stuffing themselves like Thanksgiving turkeys. I would think ‘damn, I hope we don’t hit a rock and end up shipwrecked on some island full of hungry cannibals’” Josh said as he finished the last bite of his marshmallowy chocolatey gooey cookies.
“Ooof, a stuffed Thanksgiving turkey-- that’s how I feel at the moment,” Barrett admitted as he gave his stout round belly another rubbing.
“And look,” Josh said, supporting the astute observation. “Just squeeze you in between some big bowls of mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and sit a pumpkin pie on top of your belly ledge for dessert.”
Josh glanced at his watch and realized that he was late to get back to work. “Guess I better get my fat ass in gear.” Josh hoisted himself up, satisfied with the extra-large lunch and conversation, brushing past Barrett just as he took that moment to stretch his arms up in the air. Josh paused to smack a couple deep-seated belches out of Barrett. “Keep eatin’, big guy, keep rollin’ down that path to the big 3-0-0... but keep an eye out for cannibals!”
~.~
Many weeks passed, and Barrett’s allure changed somewhat to the ladies who lunched at Chunk’s. It seemed that the amount of weight he’d gained was difficult for some of them to accept; after all, he’d plumped by forty pounds in a relatively short time after significantly long lunchtime stuffings. Barrett still presented as quite beefy with one foot still in the gym, but there was no denying his big round belly and widened booty that mercilessly stuffed his shrinking wardrobe. His handsome face had filled out accordingly and he had the start of a second chin hidden under his fuller beard; regardless, his piercing blue eyes and immaculate grooming still caused heads to pivot. Josh the 300+ pound daddy continued to come in once a week to stuff himself with sandwich, and Barrett always treated him to at least one Gut Topper. Josh would especially enjoy the belly blowout when Barrett personally funneled the extra creamy cake shake down his gullet.
Awhile back, the manager had hired a new cook when Chunk’s had added pizza to their calorie-driven menu. Barrett had recognized the guy immediately from high school, although Peter’s 5’11” frame had filled out some since those earlier days. Peter had been a swimmer all during high school and was always pretty wide-shouldered and lanky, which changed through his college experience in the dining halls. Of course, Peter recognized Barrett right away as well, and would tease him about how fat he’d become. Barrett would always comment right back about Peter’s modest college weight gain. Chunk’s cooks wore nice pullover shirts that bore the restaurant’s logo on the left breast, and Peter’s shirt was always a little pizza sauce-splattered and tight. Peter’s pudgy round belly pooched out over his Dockers taut waistbands, and no one could miss his pasta butt that stressed the seam in the back.
The two former schoolmates never really talked much in school, but they developed a friendly, yet somewhat tense, rivalry at work. Peter was slightly jealous with the fact that Barrett got away with hardly working and mostly just eating while he sat on his constantly widening ass. The manager had added pizza to Barrett’s daily demonstration, and Peter was usually the one that made the pie. Peter would deliberately pile on additional toppings, knowing that Barrett would have to stuff the slices down on top of his torturously large sandwich and sides.
After a month of silent warfare, both Barrett and Peter had packed on weight. Barrett was undeniably impressed with Peter’s bloat capacity and how much the littler guy could stomach in one stretching session. Peter, who loved the fact that his packed pizzas were adding to both Barrett’s bottom and front lines, immensely enjoyed the big stud’s trips in to the kitchen to moan about his overloaded gut. Barrett was supposed to sweep around the kitchen after his lunch demonstration, and he’d invariably be as close as possible to Peter so that he could bump him with his solid gutsphere. Barrett would belch in Peter’s general direction to egg him on, and soon Peter would march on up to the 6’2” beefster and playfully threaten to punch his big ol’ gut. Barrett would push his belly out even more and tell Peter to give it his best shot. The manager would always intercede in time saying “Don’t pop him! Barrett has to work tomorrow!”
Time bulged on, and the manager had to bring in a scale due to rising concerns about their Frontline Eater position, of which Barrett had done such an incredible job filling. “Boy, are you ever fat now,” the manager told Barrett as he processed the number on the scale’s display, “three hundred and twenty pounds. I’m afraid that we’re going to move you to back of house for awhile-- put the big beefer out to pasture, so to speak. Your gluttonous performances are still bringing in the fat guys, but the average group of ladies who lunch seem to think you’ve gotten too fat for them to fantasize about over their porky husbands.”
“Aw, come on!” Barrett spurted out, “I know women still look at me.”
“Well, yeah. They look at you and think about the big fat growling gut they’re going to have to go home and feed that night. All the work they’ll go through stuffing their husband’s belly enough so he’ll fall asleep on the couch and not bother them for the rest of the night.”
A vision of his fat daddy friend Josh popped into Barrett’s mind. “Some women enjoy feeding their hubbies-- in fact, they relish the thought of fattening them up.” Barrett’s crotch tingled a bit as he remembered Josh’s most recent Chunk’s visit when he owned up to weighing 350 pounds and whispering the most arousing admission in his ear. Josh had dreamed one night that he’d been stretching his belly for weeks in the hopes of growing it immense enough to hold a stuffed Thanksgiving Barrett.
The manager’s mind was made up, so he put Barrett next to Peter in the kitchen so that they could work out any issues the two had while Barrett shed a few pounds. The days went by with the two reminiscing about the old days and pretty much making a buffet of the prep tables. It was on a Friday when Peter offered one particularly compelling memory.
“You remember that time at the school assembly when three of you guys on the football team had a pizza eating contest in front of the whole school?” Peter asked.
“Oh yeah. My gut ached the rest of the afternoon,” Barrett confessed.
“Oh damn... well, you won....and you ate the entire pizza,” Peter recalled. “You had the biggest fucking belly that day...”
“I remember that.” Barrett smiled, “after school, I was sprawled out on the grass in Senior Square warning guys not to step on my belly.”
“You were wearing this really tight orange pullover shirt and I thought your belly looked like a big pumpkin.” As Peter shared his thoughts, Barrett chuckled and patted his much fatter, bigger belly. “I had like ten dollars and I wanted to take you to McDonald’s and get you whatever you wanted.”
“You did? Huh...” Barrett thought for a moment. “Guess that would have made you ‘Peter Peter Pumpkin Feeder’ in a way...” Barrett thought for another moment, “wait... that’s why you would makin’ my pizzas so big! You’ve been fattening me up on purpose!”
Peter slapped Barrett in his big ol’ belly. “Well, truth be told, you were already amply fattened when I started here... nicely marbled beef... I just wanted you to get a little fatter.”
“A little fatter? Well, I’m 320 pounds now.” Barrett stated, bumping his firm round gut into Peter’s fat belly. “Feel the size of this beast now!”
“My guess is that this beast needs to be fed,” Peter said, grabbing on to each side of the studly gut being pushed into him. “I’ve got ten dollars for McDonald’s after work...”
Somehow, Peter and Barrett kept their minds on finishing their shifts at Chunk’s, and agreed to meet at the nearest McDonald’s at six o’clock. Peter decided to keep his work clothes on, despite the fact that he smelled like an overweight pizza. Since he’d gone ahead and eaten his free work meal, his Dockers were exceptionally tight despite the fact that they were pushed down far below his fat belly. Barrett had gone home and rifled through a few drawers to find that famous orange pullover shirt from high school, only to find that he nearly ripped it getting it over his much more developed chest and arms, and the old top was no match for his very ample belly. The shirt couldn’t reach to cover his wide love handles and the hem created a crisp line around his big manly gut above his dreamily deep belly button. He had one last pair of jeans that he put forth his best effort to button, and walked out of the house looking like a giant overstuffed sausage.
Barrett walked in to the McDonald’s and immediately felt eyes gluing to his bared belly; among other sets, one set of eyes belonged to Peter, and another set belonged to Josh-- Barrett’s fat daddy friend from Chunk’s. Josh’s hefty wife turned her head to see who her chubby hubby was gawking at and seemed suitably impressed. Peter stood up, shifted his boner, and walked over to meet the vision in orange that wobbled his way closer.
“How about that-- that shirt fits differently than it did in high school, Barrett!”
“Just a little bit. I’m a few pounds heavier now.”
Both of them strolled up to the counter together, each enjoying the reaction of the chubby young counter dude whose mouth dropped open in response the audacity of Barrett’s attire.
“What do ya want? My treat.” Barrett offered, rubbing Peter’s shoulder.
“Oh, it’s my treat, Barrett.”
“Let’s do this-- I’ll get you what I want you to eat, and you can do the same for me. How about that?”
Soon enough, the two Chunk’s employees had decided on a booth across from where Josh and his wife still sat eating. Before taking a seat, Barrett and Peter said hello to the oversized married couple, carefully noting the pile of empty boxes and wrappers in front of Josh. Even though it was one of the booths made larger to more easily accommodate fat people, Josh was obviously stuck. The table’s edge butted firmly against his enormous round belly, and the portion above table level bulged onto the surface an inch. Josh’s ribs were shoved up and back around the bloated stomach, and it was as hard for him to speak as it was to breathe.
“Josh, I do believe that you’ve been fed into place!” Barrett said.
“Indeed he has,” came the voice from across the table. “We’re stretching his belly all day today-- kids are at their grandparents. There’s a young pup at Recipe Club that’s about to get his 360 pound ribbon and Josh has got to keep up! You must be Barrel-- I mean, Barrett,” she said, looking at the tall stud’s ample belly.
Barrett chuckled. “Yes, that’s me, Barrett. And I guess I do resemble a food barrel these days.” He shook her hand and introduced Peter. “Well, well, Josh. Just look at this huge belly wedged in this booth...” Barrett gently poked around on the top of Josh’s overstuffed belly.
“Careful, now... don’t poke too hard. You’ll pop the pig! He’s been eating all day to stretch his belly for an upcoming Vegas trip. I mean, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that 24 hour buffet pass and wants to go for a three day gorging weekend.”
“Haven’t been able to get enough to eat today, boys,” Josh wheezed.
“That can definitely be a problem,” Peter observed with an unmistakably evil smile on his face.
Barrett thumped Josh’s enormous gut and said, “keep on stuffing, Josh-- Thanksgiving is comin’ and you’re either going to eat or be eaten!” Reaching over to his serving tray, Barrett grabbed a Quarter Pounder box and sat it on top of Josh’s solid ball of food.
Two McDonald’s employees, including the chubby guy poured into his uniform, brought two trays each over to where Barrett and Peter had chosen to plant their numbered sign. Without much more conversation, the two guys got down to business and began stuffing themselves. Josh sat and belched while he digested, watching with great interest as Barrett and Peter blew up in size. Their enthusiasm for gorging was amazing to watch. It was no surprise that they finished all of that food and four soda refills only to look at each other and say “More!”
Josh’s wife took his wallet up to the counter and surprised Barrett and Peter with another round of Big Macs, Quarter Pounders, fries, and Chicken McNuggets. Peter’s incredible ability to bloat up into a round ball raised eyebrows near and far in the restaurant. His Chunk’s uniform shirt’s hem inched up the stuffed belly ball, and his Dockers launched into space as he heaved a satisfied sigh.
“Your belly is gettin’ big,” Barrett said to his rotund dinner mate.
“Well, look who’s talking,” plump-bellied Peter turned around on the overstuffed stud. “It’s like someone connected that pumpkin to a tire pump!”
Barrett’s orange pullover had slid up above his packed-taut bloatsphere, exposing the full height of his treasure trail. Barrett’s belly button, with its fat rounded entry, begged for a chubby finger to explore its warm depths.
“I say we go pick up a box of donuts and go to my place, Peter.”
The two roundbellied twentysomethings thanked fat daddy Josh and his wife for their generosity and waddled their way out to their trucks. “Hope you get full enough, Josh!”
“Never!”
Peter picked out the fat pills at the best grocery store bakery in town, making sure to choose an enticing array of all kinds, including extra-filling-fattening cream-filled ones, before speeding on over to Barrett’s address.
“C’mon in if you have donuts...” Barrett teased as he stood there in his ridiculously undersized orange pullover and underwear with a spot of wet pre-cum at the end of his fully lengthened cock.
Peter broke into a sweat from the heat radiating off of the engorged stud, shaking a little as he set two boxes of donuts on the dining room table. Barrett slapped Peter’s butt that was as yet encased in the seam-stressed Dockers, “damn your ass got fat after high school.”
“I like to eat,” Peter told him turning his head sideways.
“I can tell. The pregnant belly was another dead giveaway.” Barrett pulled Peter’s pants down and bent him over the dining room table. Peter’s stout full belly smacked on the surface like a gargantuan slab of bacon and Barrett watched his sides bow out under the pressure. Barrett shifted his loaded cock into the upright position and rubbed it back and forth between Peter’s plump buns. “Fuck that feels good....my gut’s so fucking big that I can’t see what I’m doing, but I can definitely feel the heat from your hole...”
“Jesus, your dick is as big as I always thought it was...” Peter grunted.
“You got me so hot that I’m brimming with cum today... if I pumped your ass right now, I’d shoot a load so fat that your belly would explode.”
“Do it, fat stuff,” Peter begged, “because after you pop my cherry in grand style, I’m gonna feed you every last donut in that box. You stuff my butt and I’ll bust your gut.”
Nearly breaking the table in the process, Barrett finished the deed, pumping Peter completely full of his seed.
Taking Barrett by the hand and grabbing the box of donuts, Peter led his round target into the bedroom. Getting situated leaned against the headboard and spreading his legs far apart, Peter motioned for the ballooned stud to lay belly-up on him with his head on his shoulder. Once Barrett was in place, there was not going to be any moving him for an extended period of time. Peter’s view around Garrett’s head was of a tall round mountain that wobbled from side to side when the bed shook. “Will you just look at the size of this fucking tank?!” Peter put his hands on either side of Barrett’s enormously swollen stomach and spread his fingers. Gently shaking the massive sphere of manflesh, Peter breathed heavily in Barrett’s ear as the heavy stud continued to weigh down on his own achingly full stomach. “Soldier, you’ve really let yourself go...your punishment is going to be severe... forcefeeding until your greedy belly bursts like an overblown balloon.”
Peter picked through the donuts and began stuffing them into Barrett’s eager maw in rapid succession. As icing began to collect in the overfed boy’s beard, his tongue worked overtime to get every last bit. As Barrett was chewing nearly unmanageable mouthfuls, Peter rubbed all over the swelling stomach. With a whole box of donuts down the gullet, there was a giant mound formed that pushed straight up in the air. Peter thumped on the top of the donut dome, amazed at how dense it sounded and the volume of belch it quickly produced. Barrett’s advanced gut was easily the size of a beach ball, and Peter was wishing that he had a view far enough away to fully appreciate its fullness.
“Oh God, I’m gonna pop,” Barrett moaned.
Peter pushed his index finger into the top of Barrett’s solid donut dome and tested it for doneness. “Nope, you’re not ready yet,” Peter whispered in his 320+ pound stud’s ear and opened the second box.
Engaged in relentless stuffing, Barrett’s gutsphere stretched wider and taller. Peter spread his fingers as far apart as possible to rub as much belly at once as he could. Barrett’s panic was becoming more evident as his taut, shiny ball maxed out with half of the second box of donuts crammed inside.
“Okay, Soldier, I’ll spare your gut from certain explosion,” Peter announced. Barrett responded with an wall-shaking belch. Squashed a little under the weight of the overfed stud, Peter wriggled his way out and stood at the side of the bed admiring the gigantic beach ball. The bottom of his enormous gut was as taut as the top, and the roundness bumped against his spread meaty thighs.
Peter slowly made his way on to the bed, throwing his leg over Barrett’s wide body and bouncing his fat butt briefly on the tall mountain of belly. Realizing that he was about to push several donuts right out of Barrett’s mouth, Peter quickly slid down off of the ball gut and landed on his hard-again cock. Peter was reminded of how full his own belly was as it met fatly against the bottom third of Barrett’s gutsphere. Peter regained his strength, grabbed a hold of each of Barrett’s meaty pecs and humped his cock against the giant hard belly. Getting ready to shoot his load, Peter grabbed another donut, plugged Barrett’s furry feedhole with it, and ate up the sight of Barrett’s hungry expression as he spurted cum all over Barrett’s lower bellysphere.
“Feels good to get caught up on lost time, huh?”
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