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imagineyourworld · 3 years

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How the clones would ask you out (Genderneutral)

Includes Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Kix, Cody and Wolffe

Warnings: None

Rex

Poor Rex would be so, so nervous

It took pep talks vom Anakin, Ahsoka and several of his brothers to get up the courage to actually ask you out (though not all of them were all that helpful)

Rex wouldn’t ask you out in public or at work, he’d go to your flat instead

His strong knock doesn’t betray his nerves, but the second you open the door he cannot remember what he was going to say for the life of him

Luckily he was trained as a soldier his entire life and it only takes him a few second to forget about his nerves and continue with his plan

“I was wondering if you’d like to go on a picnic with me tomorrow?”

A picnic, Ahsoka had convinced him, would be the perfect first date. The two of them had even decided on a nice place in one of Coruscant’s few parks together

(Plus Rex likes to bake and cook, it’s his way of dealing with the stress of war (and his brothers’ shenanigans))

“I’d love to.”

You have never seen such a big smile on Rex’s face

“Great. That’s great.”

You chatted for a few more minutes before Rex had to excuse himself. Just as you were closing the door you stuck your head out again. “Rex?” “Yes.” “Is this a date?” The small blush on his face was adorable. “I’d like it to be, if that’s fine with you.” You smiled. “It’s more than fine.”

Fives

If anyone has an actual pickup line it’s Fives, not in a creepy way though, he’s cute about it

The two of you have been flirting back and forth for a while now and Fives, after finally no longer denying his feelings, decides to ask you out

He walks up to you with every bit of confidence he can muster

“Hey handsome, what brings you here?”, you ask. Your usual greeting, but Fives doesn’t reply in the way he usually does (”Hey mesh’la, just coming to admire the view.”) “Since you make my heart sing I was wondering if you’d like to accompany to a concert tomorrow.”

You could tell that he wasn’t joking this time, but still decided to have your fun with him.

“So sorry, I already promised another handsome young man with a number as his name to spend the day with him.” As soon as the words left your mouth the smile fell from Fives’ face and instantly made you regret your words. “Oh, baby, no. I was only joking. I’d love to go out with you.” The smirk was back and brighter than ever. “It’s a date!”, he said a bit louder than he had to.

He’d kiss you on the cheek before saying goodbye.

(And maybe he even whispers suggestions for what you could do after the concert in your ear.)

Echo

Much like Rex, Echo is quite nervous

At first he was glad to have Fives on his side to give him advice, but he soon learned that not everything his brother suggested would go down well

He’d wait for you at work and offer to walk you home, because someone once told him that travelling in the same direction eases conversation

When you exit the building your eyes immediately fall on Echo, who is standing nearby with flowers in his hand. “What are you doing here?”, you ask with a smile on your face. “I... well... I saw these flowers in the market downton and they made me think of you.” He hands you the flowers, suddenly even more nervous now that he doesn’t have anything in his hands. “That’s so sweet”, you say as you lift the flowers to your nose. “I was just on my way home, would you like to join me and come in for a cup of caf?”

The two spend the rest of the day together. Walking home, drinking caf, cooking dinner. After a while Echo’s nervousness fades and only returns when he realises it’s time for him to return to the barracks.

“Actually I had another reason to come to see you today. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. Like on a date. If you would like to go on a date with me.” You laugh and the sound Echo usually cherishes breaks his heart, which you soon realise. “Oh, Echo, honey, no! I mean yes, but I just thought that today was kinda like... a date... I’m sorry, I was just assuming, I should have actually asked you.” A smile mirroring yours appeared on his face. “So... How about a second date?”

Jesse

Jesse only realises that he needs to ask you out as soon as possible after a particularly tough mission. A lot of his brothers died, even more got hurt, and he spent a few days in the medbay as well.

The second he’s back on Coruscant he comms you asking where you are and no matter where you are or what you’re doing, he’s on his way to you as soon as you answer.

“Stars, Jesse, what’s gotten into you?”, you ask when you open the door to his rapid knocking. “I like you, I really like you and I don’t want to die without ever asking you out. So, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” At first you don’t know what to say. “Of course I’ll go out with you. But maybe you should sit down for a minute, you don’t seem like yourself.”

After just a few minutes and a cup of herbal tea the two of you were talking and joking like always. That is until you remember an appointment you had to hurry to make. “I’d hate to throw you out, but I really need to go.” “That’s fine”, Jesse says with a smile. “How about I pick you up tomorrow at seven for our date?” You nod your head smiling.

Kix

Kix asks you out more or less on accident. It’s been a long day, he’s tired, and all he wants is a relaxing evening with you.

“Hey, Kix, you wanna come to 79s with us?”, Fives, who just popped into the medbay, asks. Kix shook his head. “I really don’t. If it were up to me I’d spend the evening with some takeout and (Y/N).” “(Y/N)?”, Jesse follows up. “They help me relax like no one else and that’s what I need after stitching you idiots up all day”, Kix says, glancing at Fives and Hardcase at his last words. “Then how about we grab something to eat and spend the evening on my couch?”, you offer. Everyone turns to you, who had just entered the room. Echo bursts in a second later. “Sorry, I tried to stop her from coming in.”

Kix blushes like crazy, you weren’t supposed to hear that. He tells you as much.

You walk over to where he’s sitting, miraculously the others have disappeared, and place a hand on his shoulder. If it weren’t for the armour covering him you would have loved nothing more than giving him a soothing massage.

“You know what? I’m here because I wanted to ask you out, but I guess you just did that for me.” He chuckled. “Guess so. Let’s go, I cannot wait for our date.”

Cody

Cody would be so smooth when asking you out, mainly because he got advice from Obi-Wan, who flirts with everyone and could teach him a few good moves.

His tactic is pretending you already agreed, which is why he spent the afternoon transforming his room into a small movie theatre for the two of you, complete with snacks and drinks and a holoprojector.

He then makes his way over to your apartment to actually ask you out. And though he hadn’t been nervous all day, the second you open the door he’s at a loss for words.

“(Y/N), cyare, I was wondering... No, that’s not it... I’m here to ask you... No, wait... Would you like to...” Though you can’t help but find his out of character rambling cute, you want nothing more than to put poor Cody out of his misery. “Would you care for a glass of water?”, you ask, opening the door further to invite him in.

For some reason the cool water helps him sort out his thoughts and he can finally ask the question he’d prepared earlier. “Would you like to watch a movie with me tonight?”, he asks, his voice smooth and steady. For a fraction of a second there was something that might have been disappointment in your eyes, but then you nodded. “Sure. Why don’t we invite Waxer and Boil as well?” Cody had been quite sure that you’d agree, but the second part caught him off guard. Maybe he should have been more obvious with his intention. “Actually, I was hoping it’d be just the two of us.” You raised an eyebrow. “Wait a minute, Cody, did you just ask me on a date?” A shy smile made it’s way on his face, though to his credit he didn’t blush. “I did.” He had no idea how it was possible, but the smile on your face was even brighter than his own. “In that case, yes! I’d love to watch a movie with you.”

Wolffe

The main reason Wolffe was reluctant to ask you out was not nerves, but rather not wanting to admit his feelings, not wanting to admit a weakness. It was actually Plo Koon who, through ambiguous comments, convinced him to just do it.

He didn’t want it to be a big ceremony, he wasn’t the type for big gestures, but that night, as you were sitting at 79s with the Wolfpack and your eyes were glittering in the multicoloured lights and your perfume made its way to Wolffe’s nose, he just had to ask you out before it was too late, before anything happened to either of you or someone else asked you before he did.

And so, when most of the others were scattered across the bar, he asked you if you’d like to get some air with him. He may not be one for big gestures, but he’d be damned if he asked you out in a stuffy bar surrounded by his drunk brothers.

Outside, he realized was not the perfect environment either. There were still drunk clones around and instead of stuffy it was cold, cold enough to make you shiver in your thin clothes and Wolffe wished he had a jacket he could give you. “I’ll make this quick so you can go back inside. I-”, he stopped himself. You were suddenly a lot closer than just a few moments ago, he could feel your warm breath on his face and it made him lose all focus. “Yes, Wolffe?”, you questioned. He cleared his throat and continued. “I was hoping that you’d like to go on a date with me sometime.”

The atmosphere may not have been perfect, neither were his words, but your smile was and it made up for everything else. “I don’t know, Commander, what’s in it for me?”, you asked with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know. Dinner, maybe flowers or chocolate”, he replied, trying his best to hide the sudden insecurity. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed. Wolffe knew what was coming next, he knew you’d let him down and it would be awkward. He never should have asked you out. “You know, I had been hoping you’d say The pleasure of my company or something like that, but I suppose chocolate will do.” A smirk had made it’s way to your lips and a low chuckled escaped Wolffe’s. “Is that a yes, mesh’la?” “It is.”

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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Waiting in the Wings

***Happy Birthday Week Luke! This is a fluffy one. I don't get to write Simeon and Luke often, so this was interesting to sort of experiment with. I hope you guys enjoy! *** Summary: A talent show is being held at RAD; knowing the vocal talents of a certain young angel, you encourage Luke to join. Only Luke doesn't seem too fond of the idea. Together, you and Simeon do your best to give Luke the courage to shine.

The doors to Purgatory Hall slammed open as you raced inside with a blue flyer clenched in your hand. You rushed into the kitchen where you knew you would find your target. Luke, as expected, stood there is a light blue apron, whisking some kind of batter in a bowl. You excitedly waved the flyer in Luke's face. "Did you see this?! There's going to be a talent show?"

Luke squeaked at your sudden appearance and almost dropped the bowl. He took a moment to set it on the counter and grumbled something under his breath before taking the paper from your hands. You watched eagerly as his eyes scanned the page. He gasped and looked up at you in excitement. "RAD is hosting a talent show?! That's so cool! I wonder if Simeon's going to enter? He could probably read a poem he wrote, or act out one of his monologues," a tender look of admiration spilled into Luke's expression as he looked at the flyer. He shook his head and looked over at you. "What about you MC? Are you entering?" You chuckled and shook your head. "No. It's not really my thing. But I know someone with an incredible voice that would blow the rest of the competition out of the water!"

You thought that your words made it quite obvious that you were talking about Luke. You had first heard him sing months ago when Asmodeus dragged you to a tea party that he had been invited to by Simeon and Luke had performed for the three of you and Barbatos. His voice was truly the work of angels and was unlike anything you had ever heard before. It was remarkable to think that such a large talent could fit inside his small body.

Evidently, you weren't obvious enough.

Luke's eyes got even wider and he bounced slightly in excitement. "That's amazing! Who is it? You should definitely get them to enter! I'd love to hear them sing. Maybe they could teach me a couple of things." You smirked at his obliviousness and light-heartedly pushed the young angel. "Well, it'll be sort of hard for you to teach yourself what you already know."

Luke blinked at you several times, and you could practically see the math equations floating around his head. As he had his light bulb moment, his face paled and Luke quickly shook his head. "No! Absolutely not! I am not doing it!" "What aren't you doing?" The two of you whipped around to see Simeon watching the two of you in amusement. Your heart fluttered at the mere sight of him.

This, unfortunately, wasn't new. Although your feelings for Simeon weren't something that was apparent right away, they had grown more and more as you spent more time together. There was no denying the angel was handsome, however, there was so much more to him than that. He was intelligent and creative, able to outwit even some of the brothers with ease. He was incredibly compassionate and open-minded about the creatures in the Devildom. In one word, Simeon was bright. He radiated joy and peace where ever he went. You didn't know if it was an effect of being an angel or if it was who he truly was, but regardless, it was slowly but surely winning over your heart. You smiled at him and handed him the flyer. "I was telling Luke how I think that he should sing in the upcoming talent show." Simeon grinned widely at his charge, "Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea! You have an incredible vo-"

"NO!" You both looked at Luke in shock. He didn't lash out often unless it was at one of the brothers. He most certainly never raised his voice at Simeon. Yet here he stood with his eyes screwed shut and hands balled into fists as they shook; whether they shook with anger or something else, you weren't sure. He scowled at both of you. "I'm not going to sing for a bunch of filthy demons on a stage in f-front of hundreds of students! Are you insane?" Simeon and you exchanged glances of concern. Simeon moved closer to his charge and placed a hand on his shoulder; like a parent trying to soothe their child. "Luke, if you really don't want to do it, that's okay. No one will force you. But I have to ask...Is the reason you don't want to perform because you have stage fright?" Luke blushed and looked away. "N-No! I don't have stage fright! I-I just don't want to waste my celestial talents on these demonic scum!"

He was clearly lying. Yes, he was upset, but behind that anger, you could see a small trace of sadness; as though his mind, which filled him with fear of the audience's judgement, and his heart, which yearned to sing for all to hear, were at war.

If the angel you had come to know as a brother wanted to perform, that god damn it, you were going to make sure he would be able to perform! "Well, what if I was there with you?" You asked in genuine curiosity. His head snapped up to look at you. "B-But you said it's not your thing?" You tried not to smile at his concern for you, and instead casually shrugged it off. "I could stand in the wings and be right there cheering you on. I could also help you practice and get ready; that way you feel more confident about it." Simeon nodded and patted Luke's hat. "You wouldn't be doing this alone. MC and I would be right by your side if this is something that interests you. I'm sure Barbatos would love to see you perform. MC and I would certainly enjoy it." Luke shifted from foot to foot as he thought about it. The room held its breath as you waited for his decision to be revealed. He glanced over at you nervously. "You'll be right there?" Your chest warmed as you were momentarily reminded of just how young Luke really is. You gently squeezed his shoulder and nodded. "I won't leave you for even a second." Luke let out a big breath before a gleam of determination filled his eyes and he balled his fists. "Okay! I'll do it! I'll sing at the show!" You smiled brightly in silent victory as Simeon laughed and hugged Luke. "Wonderful! Looks like the two of us have our work cut for us! When would you like to begin preparing?" "Now!" Luke took off out of the room, "I know the perfect song! I have the sheet music in my room! I'll be right back!" Simeon chuckled as Luke vanished from sight in a white and blue blur and looked over at you. There was a shimmer of fondness and affection in his eyes that caused your breath to catch in your throat.

"Thank you for talking him into this. He truly does enjoy singing, and I think he would've regretted it if he didn't join. He's very fond of you," Simeon's voice was as soft as the clouds that he had descended from. You scratched the back of your neck and awkwardly tried to brush off his thanks. "It's nothing. Luke means a lot to me too. He's like a little brother, you know?" If possible, his expression became even more tender as he looked deep into your eyes and gave you the most gentle smile. "Yes. I suppose I do."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before you noticed Simeon shift a little. You wouldn't quite say it was an action of discomfort but there was clearly something on his mind.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked with a reassuring smile.

Simeon, much to your surprise, blushed. "I was just thinking. I suppose with you aiding us, you'll be spending more time here at Purgatory Hall, will you not?"

You blinked a couple of times at the question. You supposed it was true. Within the next two weeks leading up to the talent show, you would probably be spending the majority of your time here with Luke, and as a result, with Simeon as well. You nodded in response to the question as you felt your own cheeks grow warm.

Simeon's twinkled as his expression lit up. "It will be lovely getting to spend more time with you. You-"

Before Simeon could say much more, Luke burst back into the room waving a stack of papers.

"S-So this is what I'm thinking. I have options, but I don't know which ones to choose!" He paused as he picked up on the obvious energy change in the room and frowned. "What's going on in here?" Simeon chuckled and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Nothing at all. Now, you mentioned you had options?" Luke took the bait easily and began excitedly explaining each of his song selections. Throughout the next two weeks, you and Simeon worked together to help get Luke in tiptop shape to perform. You ran vocal scales with him as Simeon played the notes on the piano. You helped him memorize the lyrics, while Simeon aided him in getting the melody and key right. Using your influence with Diavolo and the brothers, you were even able to get him into the theatre that the show would be hosted at, and gave him the opportunity to practice on stage while in advance. During this time you found yourself growing closer and closer with Simeon. The two of you would exchange secret smiles with one another when you thought Luke wasn't looking. You found yourself more aware of his presence and his notable attention towards you. You would glance over at him, only to find he was already looking at you. Simeon would frequently put his hand on your shoulder or ruffle your hair. The actions always left you flustered, which simply made him smile even more.

Luke wasn't oblivious to the budding romance between the two of you. He noticed all too easily what was happening and instantly approved. After all, it was much better that you be courted by a gentleman such as Simeon than one of those fiendish brothers.

So he decided to do his part in aiding the matter. He often made up excuses in the middle of practice that would leave the two of you alone in a room. He always made sure you two sat down beside each other. Luke would come up with clever little things that "Simeon needed to do," just after practice ended and would always turn to you immediately after insisting that you help.

If either you or Simeon noticed what he was doing, neither of you mentioned it.

The two of you may have started this as a mission to help Luke feel comfortable on stage, but Luke quickly turned it into a mission to get his two favourite people together.

Time flew by, and before anyone could blink, the day of the show had finally arrived.

The theatre was elegantly decorated with red and gold streamers hanging on the balconies and bouquets of roses lining the aisles.

Backstage, dozens of performers anxiously fretted about, running over their talents one last time before their big moment in the spotlight. Simeon had performed a romantic monologue earlier in the evening. As he spoke, you couldn't help bet notice that his gaze would continuously fall onto you; something that made Luke beam with joy. Since then another handful of performers had gone up, Luke was next. The angel stood between you and Simeon in the wings, as he nervously twisted his hat in his hands. "I-I-I can't do this. I change my mind. I'm not gonna do it," he tried to turn and flee, but you quickly caught him.

"Woah, woah, woah. Easy there, Luke. You worked so hard on this. You can't just back out now!" Your heart broke as you felt just how badly the poor boy was shaking. You knelt down in front of him and placed your hands on his shoulders as you looked deeply into his eyes. "Luke, it's going to be okay. You've practiced day and night for this. You're going to blow the socks off of everyone out there. Simeon and I will be right here with you the entire performance."

Luke sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "Promise? You'll be here when I finish?" Simeon came up behind you and placed a hand on your back as he knelt down beside you. "We aren't going anywhere."

Luke smiled faintly at the sight of the two of you so close and nodded. "O-Okay. I suppose I can do it then."

You pulled Luke into a hug and held him tightly. "You've got this Luke. Go show them all what the Celestial realm is really made of!"

Luke hugged you back as his name was called out by the emcee. With a nervous smile, he put his hat back on and walked out onto the stage. You held your breath as he approached the mic. What if something went wrong? What if the mic didn't work? What if the audience was mean? A hand wrapped around your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked over to see Simeon holding onto your hand. He grinned at you and brought your hand to his lips, delicately kissing your skin. "Have faith, MC. Everything is going to be fine." You weren't sure if it was the heat from the spotlights or the number of people in the room, but you felt like you were going to melt. You nodded and squeezed his hand in return as the music began. Just as expected, Luke was absolutely incredible. He sang with all the glory of the heavens. As his voice filled the theatre, you could've sworn that the lights shone just a little bit brighter. There wasn't a dry eye in sight; no one could deny the beauty in his talent.

Once he took his final bows, he practically sprinted back to the two of you where he was immediately scooped up into the arms of a proud Simeon. "That was incredible Luke! Truly a remarkable performance!"

Luke laughed and hugged his mentor back. "You guys were right! After I started singing, it wasn't scary at all! Thank you so much for helping me do this." You fondly ruffled Luke's hair and beamed at him. "All we did was give you the confidence to go out there. You did everything else yourself."

Luke's chest puffed out in some well-earned pride as he soaked in the praise from the two of you.

Simeon finally let him go and smiled down at him. "Now, what do you say we go celebrate? I have reservations for the three of us at Restaurante Six."

Luke's eyes widened, and you could practically see the scheming thoughts cycle through his brain. The young angel let out a dramatic yawn as he stretched. "You know performing really tired me out. I think I'll head home with Solomon. It'd be a shame for that reservation to go to waste though; you two should go together."

You blinked at Luke in shock, as a knowing smirk climbed onto Simeon's face. He turned to you with coy, yet loving, eyes and held out his hand. "Well, what do you say, MC? Care to accompany me to dinner this evening?"

You gaped at him for a second, as Luke watched the interaction in excitement. You stumbled upon your words for a second before finally getting them out. "I-I, um, yes! Yes. I would l-love that."

"YES!" The two of you quickly looked over at Luke as he jumped around in celebration. Seeing that he was caught, he froze before chuckling nervously and scratching the back of his neck. "I-I mean, bummer that I got join you two. Have a good night!" Just like that, Luke took off to go find Solomon.

You sighed and shook your head. "He's a trouble maker."

Simeon laughed and took your hand into his and he pulled you close to him. "Perhaps, but if the result of his mischief allows me to spend more time with you, then I, for one, am grateful," he kissed the top of your hands once more and offered out his arm to you. "Shall we?"

Your heart fluttered as you took his arm and allowed him to escort you out of the theatre and into what promised to be a memorable evening.

***This was a process for sure, but I think I'm happy with how it turned out! Thank you everyone for reading and supporting me and HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SON, LUKE!!!!***

Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @pebblesgengar @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino

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swcetnight · 3 years

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It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength." Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you��ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

A New Life

Part Six: Gone Too Far

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,977

Warning: Fluff, Smut (a lot of it!!!)

Shortly after you emerged from the bathroom, Laura apologised to you but, for you, it was too late. You wanted to go home and, whilst you told Cillian to stay and enjoy the theatre play, he was determined to at least drive you back to your house.

‘I will take Y/N home’ Cillian said before handing Laura the theatre tickets and money for taxi so that she wouldn’t use public transport after the play was finished.

‘Sure, alright’ Laura huffed out somewhat disappointed before whispering to you while Cillian asked the waiter for your coats and paid for dinner.

‘I suppose this is the perfect time for you to make your little move, isn’t it?’ Laura said somewhat annoyed and you simply shook your head.

‘Think what you want to think Laura. I don’t really care’ you said somewhat frustrated.

‘Neither do I, because I will have my chance soon. Cillian and I will be working together on the UNESCO project next week’ Laura explained just before Cillian returned with your jackets and asked whether you were ready to leave.

***

‘You know you could have stayed’ you said after you arrived at your apartment and you unlocked the door, letting you both inside.

‘I really didn’t want to stay Y/N. Dinner was bloody awkward’ Cillian chuckled before taking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket in the hallway.

‘Do you mind if I have a quick shower before we watch a movie? I tend to get uncomfortable in these pants’ you said as you handed Cillian a bottle of red wine and two freshly washed wine glasses.

‘Not at all. Want me to pick a movie?’ he asked and you nodded, knowing that he would pick something good as his taste in movies was much better than yours.

***

When you emerged from the bathroom, you sat down next to Cillian on the sofa, wearing a black loose cotton dress.

Your hair was freshly washed and braided and Cillian couldn’t help but notice the scent of your shampoo.

‘Very coconutty’ he chuckled before handing you a glass of wine.

‘Too much?’ you asked, unsure whether he liked it or not.

‘No, I like it. Reminds me of my last holiday in Spain’ Cillian observed.

‘I didn’t realise that they had coconuts in Spain’ you said somewhat surprised.

‘I don’t think they do but everyone at the beach used this fancy coconut scented sunscreen. I even ended up buying a bottle because it smelled pretty good’ Cillian said somewhat randomly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘You are weird’ you giggled and, just as you did, Cillian laughed.

‘I’ve been told that before, especially by your brother’ Cillian said just before he turned on the movie.

‘Well, I like weird’ you said before looking at the TV.

The first scene of the movie was rather steamy, featuring two actors almost completely naked in the shower, making love to each other.

You couldn’t help but gasp before purposely drinking a large sip of wine from your glass.

‘A friend of mine recommended this movie’ Cillian said, feeling the need to explain his choice which is when you suddenly turned to face him.

‘How do you act out those kinds of scenes?’ you asked, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘After you familiarise yourself with the script and your character and get undressed, you just switch off. You put yourself into the mindset of the character and just do it’ Cillian explained.

‘Does it feel different kissing someone on screen as opposed to kissing someone in real life?’ you wondered and Cillian nodded.

‘Very different because, most of the time, you don’t actually want to kiss the person you are working with. I like kissing a lot but it can be a little awkward if you are kissing your co-star’ Cillian explained, making you blush.

‘So, you like kissing, hmm?’ you asked cheekily.

‘Of course. Don’t you?’ Cillian responded somewhat amused by your question.

‘No actually, I’ve never been a big kisser’ you said, biting your lip nervously. You had always thought that kissing was overrated and the two men you’ve been with before weren’t really good kissers.

‘You are still young. Perhaps you just haven’t kissed the right person yet’ Cillian then said reassuringly and, just as he did, you leaned closer towards him carefully.

‘Perhaps’ you said quietly, swallowing harshly, before tentatively caressing Cillian’s face and brushing your red wine-stained lips against his.

Cillian parted his lips slightly, allowing you to kiss him for a second or two before, suddenly, he pulled away.

‘I can’t Y/N’ Cillian then huffed out, leaving you somewhat stunned.

‘So, when you told me the other day that I am attractive, you just said that to cheer me up. You don’t…’ you began to say, but Cillian stopped you.

‘I am attracted to you, alright. You are beautiful and very sexy. But you are also twenty years younger than me and you are my best friend’s sister. It just doesn’t sit right with me. Despite, as I told you, I am not interested in dating anyone. I just need a break from dating’ Cillian explained calmly.

‘I am not interested in dating anyone either Cillian, especially not someone who lives on the other side of the globe and who resembles exactly what I was trying to get away from. But, I can’t help but being attracted to you and I want to sleep with you, just once’ you said slightly tipsy, causing Cillian to gasp.

Cillian cocked a brow, his eyes burning. ‘Why me? Wouldn’t you rather do this sort of thing with someone your own age?’ he asked, amazed by your directness.

‘No, I don’t. In fact, I think that you are very handsome and I trust you. I’ve never had a one-night stand before because, quite frankly, I haven’t trusted anyone enough to keep it to themselves. With you, it’s different’ you explained and, just as you did, he leaned in and pressed his lips back onto yours in a more heated and passionate kiss.

The truth was that he had fantasised about you for a while, but would never have acted upon his desire to sleep with you because of his relationship with Cian. When, however, you made such tempting proposal to him, it was difficult for Cillian to deny himself any longer and his primal desires took over. He hadn’t had sex in four months and the attraction he felt towards you was intense, even to the point where he couldn’t remember a time where he felt so attracted towards another woman before. He needed to get it out of his system and so did you.

‘This is a one off thing and it needs to stay between us’ Cillian huffed out after your lips drifted apart and you nodded in agreeance, pulling him closer again.

The kiss quickly became fiercer and you realised that he was right. You hadn’t kissed the right person before because, what he was doing to you with his lips and tongue, was unbelievable.

His tongue circled around yours, exploring your mouth while, every so often, he pulled against your lower lip with his teeth slightly.

It was intense and much unlike any other kiss you had experienced before.

‘I think I might be changing my mind about kissing’ you whispered out against Cillian’s lips in between several passionate kisses and your comment made him grin.

‘Wait until I show you what else this mouth can do’ Cillian smirked as his mouth left yours and he lifted up your thin cotton dress and pulled it over your head.

You resisted a little but eventually allowed him to remove your dress, leaving you wearing nothing but your panties. However, being very self-conscious, you immediately covered the scars on your stomach with one of your hands while forcing Cillian to look up into your eyes.

Without saying a word, his lips met yours again for a passionate kiss just as you were inhaling sharply, worried about what he might think when he saw all of you in the dim light of the living room.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he then asked, sensing your nervousness and reluctance but you shook your head.

‘Good, because that would be really damn difficult for me now’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to laugh and, just as you did, Cillian ceased the opportunity to move your arm out of the way and away from your stomach.

‘You are beautiful Y/N, there is no need to cover up your body’ he then said before taking off his t-shirt, causing you to gasp again.

His upper body was covered in small freckles and he had a little bit of chest hair, which you couldn’t wait to get your hands in. His body was toned, much more than you had expected and, just as he threw his t-shirt onto the floor, he kneeled there in front of you and starred at your body just as you starred at his.

‘Second thoughts?’ you asked but he shook his head with a grin.

‘Absolutely not. Just admiring the view’ he smirked before looking up at you and his gaze was almost as hot as your skin felt. It was too much and you couldn’t get enough.

He was right though. You shouldn’t be doing this, a voice screamed in the back of your head, but as Cillian dipped his head down to your breast, teeth grazing over sensitive flesh, you slammed the mental door on that voice.

‘Oh god’ you murmured as Cillian kissed and grazed over your bare breasts and you turned your brain off and focused once more on him as he pulled back. The usually-vivid blue of his eyes was blazing now, dark and stormy as he watched you through sooty lashes.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he then asked again and you nodded.

‘Good, but you need to relax’ Cillian then said again, still noticing your tension and some apprehension and realising that you were uncomfortable in your own body.

‘I will try’ you said just before a sensual warmth flooded your chest as he lowered his head again, lips brushing softly against your nipple. A soft breathless sound fell from your lips, followed by a quiet moan. What he was doing felt simply incredible and he needed no further encouragement as he moved his hands to the curve of your waist, trailing tiny touches across your stomach like he was mapping out your body for his memory.

His mouth continued its assault on your nipple and you reached for him, one hand at his shoulder and the other in his hair, tugging at the roots with every new nip and flick of pleasure he offered.

Until you pulled too hard and his head came up, eyes so dark they’re nearly black, but a small smile ghosted across his wet mouth.

‘Easy’ he said in a gruff voice that tightened everything hot inside you and shot to your core. It pooled there, hot and heavy and adding to the anticipation that you were not sure could amp up much higher because, if you were not touching more of him in the next five seconds, you would lose your fucking mind.

‘Let me touch you Cillian’ you told him and his full lips tugged into a cocky grin.

‘Not yet, we’ve got all night’ he smirked just before his mouth shifted and grazed across your ribcage and down towards your stomach.

You tensed again and tried to get his attention somehow as he was too close to your scars, but he wouldn’t let off. Instead, he kissed you and touched you, devouring your body and breathing in the scent of your skin.

You closed your eyes against the sudden swell of panic that gripped your throat as this wasn’t something you were used to. You took a shaky breath, acutely aware of the cool air across your breasts and his lips on your stomach which is when he asked “do you want me to keep going?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, causing Cillian to smirk.

‘Then you need to relax’ he reminded you.

‘Trying’ you huffed out nervously, which is when Cillian told you again how beautiful and sexy he thought you were and that he loved everything that he was seeing right there in front of him.

He then lowered himself over the swell of your hip and he caught the fabric of your panties in his teeth, tugging them down as he moved down your body and away from your hand.

You inhaled sharply and, finally, spread your legs and let him look.

‘You are so fucking wet already’ Cillian observed before he swore under his breath, voice rough and hot with desire. His eyes were glued to you and you felt both, drunk with power and at his mercy.

A world of contradictions balanced in the space between your bodies, and it shattered when he lowered his mouth to you, tongue snaking out to catch the slickness of your folds, evidence of how much you wanted this.

‘Oh my god, fuck’ you moaned as you felt the warmth of his mouth on your aching pussy. His teasing licks lingered over your slit until you began rolling your hips, mewls of pleased torture pouring from your mouth when he skillfully avoided your clit.

You didn’t dare to grab his hair and risk him stopping, so you fisted your hands in the blanket beneath you, twisting against his mouth to get him where you wanted him.

‘Impatient, are we?’ Cillian teased you, knowing exactly what you wanted. But he was determined to take his time with you especially since he knew that this was going to be a one-night stand.

‘Please Cillian, fuck just…please’ you gasped, hips pressing desperately against him for more as he had spent ten minutes licking you, teasing you with his tongue, giving you just a little bit each time.

He lifted his head, looking up at you from between your thighs and it was so fucking sexy that you thought you might come right then. His mouth was wet with your desire, and he smiled devilishly at you before moving his hands from where they rested on your thighs, up to bracket your hips and held them still against the couch you were on.

‘Do you want to cum?’ he asked with a smug smile and you nodded eagerly in response. You weren’t sure what made you think that you would since no one had ever made you orgasm before without the help from a vibrator, but you were determined to let him try not that he had been edging you for ten minutes already. If worse came to worse, you knew what to do if you didn’t get there in the end.

But, for Cillian, this was all part of the game. He loved to tease and little did you know that he could play this game for hours until you would literally squirm and scream for your release. But not tonight, tonight he was simply going to give you what you wanted provided that you beg.

‘Please Cillian’ you asked again, causing him to smirk.

‘Please what?’ he teased.

‘Please just make me cum…please’ you said, desperate for his tongue to make contact with your mound again.

Luckily for you, he finally relented and his lips closed around your clit pretty much as soon as they made contact with your mound.

‘Oh fuck, yes right there’ you screamed as you couldn’t even remember your own name much less the movie you were supposed to be watching.

Then his tongue was everywhere and he began adding one finger followed by another inside of you.

He curved his fingers upwards slightly while he continued to suck on your clit and, just as he did, an unfamiliar feeling raged through your body.

‘Holy fuck’ you moaned, not sure what was going on as the rough intrusion and onslaught of sensations had you seeing stars.

‘Yes oh god, yes fuck’ you screamed as your legs suddenly began to shake violently and you were coming against his hand and mouth, shouting his name desperately.

‘What the fuck was that?’ you huffed out, breathing heavily as the stars began to fade and he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside you.

‘What do you mean?’ Cillian asked somewhat confused and with a slight chuckle as you were still panting.

‘Like an orgasm, but more intense. I couldn’t control it’ you gasped and Cillian smiled in response.

‘I guess I found your g-spot’ Cillian said with a smug smile before crawling up on your body and kissing you passionately, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

‘Since this is a one night thing, can you show me where it is for future reference?’ you giggled, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘I don’t think you’ll be able to reach it yourself I am afraid’ Cillian then said before taking another sip from his glass of wine, allowing you some time to recover before suggesting that you take this to the bedroom.

‘Common then’ you grinned eagerly, taking his hand and pulling him off the lounge and towards your bedroom.

‘Do you have condoms?’ he asked and, of course, since you didn’t plan this, you didn’t.

‘No, but I am on birth control and up to date with all of my check ups’ you said, looking at him as if you were seeking reassurance from him that it was the same for him.

‘Same. So, I guess we don’t worry about it?’ he asked and you shook your head, dragging him towards the bed.

From the bed, you watched him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. Then he pushed them down and it was your turn to stare. Which you definitely did, wide eyed as he stood naked before you.

‘I can’t wait to be inside of you Y/N’ Cillian said as your gaze grew hotter as it trailed down Cillian’s body and settled on his hard cock. He watched you watch him. An arrogant smile was tilting his gorgeous lips as he crawled onto the bed with you and kneeled over you.

Every inch of him was beautiful. Almost as you imagined, but better. Clearly, he knew it as well.

Whilst Cillian would usually take his time with this as well, he had an unexplainable urge to become one with you. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed to be inside of you, now.

‘Spread your legs’ he instructed in a low voice, one hand tugging at your knee until you complied.

With your legs spread wide, he positioned himself in between them, kissing you passionately again while you ran your hands through his hair.

For at least a minute, he teased your entrance with the head of his cock and you lifted your hips, wanting him to enter you.

‘I want you inside me, please’ you huffed out as you felt him against you, hot and hard.

‘Patience isn’t your strong point, is it?’ Cillian smirked as he leaned into you slightly, causing you to moan.

But you wanted all of him, and you told him as much.

‘Please’ you begged and just as you did, he pushed his length inside of you gently.

‘Fuck you are so tight Y/N’ he groaned, almost surprised as he bottomed out against your cervix. As soon as he entered you, he realised that he would have more trouble controlling himself than usual and perhaps it was because he had been fantasising about you like this, naked beneath him, for some time.

‘You feel so good Cillian’ you moaned at the same time, holding him close as he gave you some time to adjust to his size before he started to move with slow but deep thrusts.

You loved feeling the warmth of his flesh inside you and he loved the feel of your moist walls rubbing against his cock as he thrusted in and out of you.

In between moans, you shared several passionate kisses and it didn’t take you long to find a rhythm.

Your fingernails were digging into the flesh of his perfectly round ass, keeping him deeper and deeper inside you as he continued to fuck you until, suddenly, his movements came to a standstill and he repositioned himself so that he could lift your legs against his shoulders.

‘Uhm, what are you…’ you were going to ask but, just as the words left your mouth, he drove back into you and you let out a loud moan.

‘Holy shit’ you shouted out as you could feel the tip of his cock against your g-spot in this position and every time he thrusted into you, electricity shot through your body.

‘Are you going to cum for me?’ Cillian asked and you could barely nod when your legs began to quiver.

‘That’s a good girl’ Cillian groaned and, just as he did, you started to scream so loud that he had to over your mouth with one of his hands.

‘Fuck you look so sexy like this’ he groaned, watching you come so hard, even harder than before as his cock thrusted against your g-spot and his pubic bone was rubbing against your clit.

He loved seeing you loose control beneath him and, only when you stopped screaming in pleasure, he slowed down stroking before, carefully, slipping out of you and allowing you to drop your legs back onto the bed.

‘Jesus Cillian’ you huffed out, slowly catching your breath and he couldn’t help but grin.

‘Did you, uhm…?’ you wondered as you were in a trance but Cillian shook his head.

‘No, I am not ready to cum yet. I am enjoying this way too much’ he smirked and you were amazed by the amount of self-control he had. You wondered, whether, perhaps, this came with age and you’ve been missing out on being with an older man for years.

‘Well then Mr Murphy, how do you want to fuck me now?’ you grinned before pulling him in for a kiss and, when your lips drifted apart, he instructed you.

‘Turn around and put your arms onto the bed head’ he said and you complied with his request, thinking that you had unleashed the animal within him.

To your surprise, within seconds, Cillian scooted up behind you and lined himself up with your entrance again while nibbling on your ear and neck from behind. His kisses and bites were gentle and passionate and you realised soon that he got pleasure simply from pleasuring you.

‘Hmm that’s so nice’ you moaned as he kissed the back of your neck and his arms were tightening around you as he got impossibly harder.

You let your head fall back against his shoulder, exposing your throat and he wasted no time in lavishing it with attention, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin where your pulse was pounding.

‘I need to feel you Cillian’ you murmured through the waves of pleasure and sensations.

He didn’t answer you with words. Instead, you felt his hand slide between you as he lined himself up against you so that, if you moved at all, he’ll be inside you.

‘Do you just?’ he then teased as he gave you the little control he could afford to, and he waited like that for you to push backwards.

‘Go for it then’ Cillian smirked, thumbs brushing across your breasts, then your ribs and hips.

When you shifted them slightly, gasping at the intrusion despite how slick you were with wanting him, he groaned and tightened his grip.

‘You feel so fucking good’ he groaned as he bottomed out inside you eventually and the sound drove you into motion, moving together easily in an age old rhythm that just worked without effort with the way your bodies fitted together.

How he controlled himself like this was beyond you, but you enjoyed every moment of pleasure he was giving you.

Cillian’s hand found your hair, gripping it close to the scalp and tugging once. You let out a breathless cry and you could feel his chuckle vibrate against your back before he pulled you back onto all fours, breaking the contact in favour of a better view.

You heard Cillian suck in a breath, and when you peaked over your shoulder, he was watching himself slide into you, watching the way your ass moved with every thrust.

‘Jesus Y/N that’s so god damn sexy, you moving your ass like that’ he said in a guttural groan as he continued to thrust into you.

‘Take what you need Cillian’ you moaned, giving yourself to him and, when your careful pacing became frenzied and sloppy, Cillian reached down for your clit.

‘Oh god, oh god yes’ you groaned as you wanted to cum again so badly.

But you also wanted to feel him cum as, simply, the thought of him filling you with his cum drove you crazy. There was something about it, something naughty and forbidden.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel you cum inside me’ you moaned and your words alone caused Cillian to gasp and groan all at the same time.

‘Fuck, say this again’ Cillian groaned as you were falling into infinity once more, this time with him close behind you.

‘I want your cum inside my pussy’ you blurted out, almost surprised by your own profanity and it was obvious to you that Cillian enjoyed some good dirty talk.

‘Y/N, fuck’ Cillian groaned again as he slammed his cock into you. Your legs were quivering once again as you came for a third time and your tight walls began to clench hard around his cock, milking him.

With one final thrust and a loud groan, Cillian finally stilled, pushing himself into you as far as he could get and, just as you felt the warmth of his cum flooding your insides, you moaned again.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as you felt him throb and pulsate inside you, spilling his cum into you before taking in a sharp breath.

‘Jesus’ he then huffed out, still panting as, slowly and carefully, he pulled out of you, causing a large amount of his cum to spill from you and onto the sheets.

You could certainly feel it too and, when you collapsed onto the bed and turned around to face him, an almost elvish grin escaped you.

‘This was something else’ you panted from exhaustion as you could still feel his cum leaking from you, turning you on all over again. But there was no way you would be able to have sex again any time soon after this three-hour session with Cillian.

‘This was amazing. I don’t think I had sex as good in like a decade’ Cillian huffed out before collapsing next to you.

‘Oh common. I am sure you had plenty of women with way more experience than me’ you said teasingly since Cillian was really only the third man you had ever slept with.

‘Well, this was actually my first one-night stand in about 25 years as, just like you, I never usually trust anyone enough to go down this route’ Cillian chuckled before realising that this may just have made him sound old. ‘Want to go again?’ he then asked jokingly to brush over his admission and you shook your head.

‘Cillian, you fucked me for three hours straight. I never thought that this was even possible and I honestly don’t think I could take any more. In fact, I can tell that I will have sore muscles tomorrow’ you giggled before drawing Cillian close for a kiss.

‘You should have a warm bath then. It will make your muscles relax’ Cillian suggested and the sound of a warm bath did, indeed, sound very good.

‘Are you going to have one with me?’ you asked, causing Cillian to nod.

‘I don’t see why not’ he then said before jumping up and filling the bathtub with some hot water.

***

Minutes later Cillian and you sank into the hot bath water and you rested your head against his chest while his arms wrapped around you and began to soap up your breasts and stomach.

‘There…now you are relaxed’ Cillian whispered, realising that you were no longer covering up your scars.

‘Because you made me feel beautiful, sexy and desired’ you said shyly, causing Cillian to kiss you neck and nibble on your earlobe briefly.

‘That is because you are beautiful and sexy and I desired to be with you, probably for a bit longer than you realise’ Cillian admitted in a quiet whisper into your ear.

‘Oh, is that right? You wanted to do this for a while, did you?’ you teased and Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Since the night I met you at Cian’s birthday party. But I felt fucking guilty about it and would never have acted upon my desire to have you, even just that once’ Cillian told you.

‘Because I am Cian’s sister? Frankly, I don’t think he would care much’ you said.

‘That and the fact that you are so much younger than me Y/N. I shouldn’t have wanted you’ Cillian explained.

‘Age is just a number Cillian. I don’t think it matters much when you are attracted to each other’ you said before tilting your head slightly and kissing him.

‘Do you regret it?’ you then asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘Sleeping with you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod. ‘No, do you?’ he then asked.

‘No. I truly believe that we needed to get this out of our system’ you confirmed, causing Cillian to laugh.

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plussizeappreciationfics · 3 years

Text

Series: Just the assistant..?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus sized reader

Summary: [Y/N], Tom's personal assistant knows that she shouldn't have fallen in love with her employer but she just couldn't help herself. When she thinks that her biggest wish is about to come true, a third party arrives and makes her question whether she'd ever have a chance to escape her situation and simply be loved back by the person she loves the most...

Warning(s): None, I think?

Word count: 5,2k

Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google

CHAPTER ONE: Ignition

"Just a few more minutes until they call, do you want something to drink?" (Y/N) asked Tom as she made her way to the kitchen, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest as the tension rose in his living room.

He had been sitting on the couch, frozen on the spot while staring into space with his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He couldn’t voice the intense waves of anxiety and nervousness coursing through his body, time seemed to pass slowly. One of the producers of Harold Pinter's Play "Betrayal" was about to let him know whether he had gotten one of the main roles or not.

Tom had auditioned for the play a while ago and had desperately hoped that his performance was worthy enough to act the play out on the stage. He had always loved theatre, the interest had never decreased throughout the years. Harold Pinter was also a writer Tom had always looked up to as his plays always inspired and touched him on a deep level that not everyone was able to understand.

"Tom" (Y/N) called out again.

He had never answered her question which had made her turn on her heel and focus her gaze on his tensed back and shoulders. He still hadn’t moved a muscle as his brain was clouded with too many thoughts at the same time. His assistant let out a soft sigh, her heart fluttering as she longed to gently place her hands on his back and give him a soothing massage. God...I just want to feel you relax under my touch. Whisper my name in a state of longing...

She bit back a craving hum as her eyes continued to appreciate his backside, he obviously needed some time to himself and wasn’t in need of any liquid refreshment. She turned back around and walked into the kitchen while hoping and praying that he’d get the role as he really deserved it.

She empathised with his every emotion and felt anxious herself, a habit she had when loving someone. Once in the kitchen, [Y/N] quickly walked over to the fridge and took a bottle of water out of it, popped open the cap and let out a soft hum when the cool liquid made its way down her throat. It had been dry and itching for a little while but she didn’t want to leave Tom’s side. She was his biggest supporter, not just the assistant that had been loving him for three years now.

She couldn’t distinguish whether she ever crushed on him or just immediately found herself loving him. She had been a silent admirer of him and his work before she got the amazing (and well paying) opportunity to work as his personal assistant. But she was a professional and strictly made herself keep all the romantic feelings she had for Tom on the down low, she knew that both of their images were at stake if she’d dive into the cliché “employee messing with their boss” mess.

It was easier said than done but she quickly developed some quality acting skills that prevented the British gentleman from even guessing her true feelings about him. She didn't want to jeopardise her job as it was something she really loved and appreciated doing.

"[Y/N]!" Tom called out in panic, causing her to place the water bottle on the kitchen counter and run back into the living room, where she found him standing in front of the coffee table with his phone still in his hand. The anxiety clouding his eyes quickly vanished the second he looked at his assistant, her presence immediately had calmed him down.

His loud ringtone echoed through the room. “W-what should I do?” he questioned, feeling like he had lost all common sense while his heart beat harshly against his ribcage.

She chuckled and shook her head while pointing at his phone. “Accept the call!”.

He frantically nodded, letting his thumb slide across his screen before holding his phone to his ear. [Y/N] let out a shaky breath, this was finally the big moment and she was glad that she was the only one who got to witness it. He never put up a show in front of her during these types of moments and that was one of the many reasons why she loved him; he unconsciously made her feel so special on an almost day-to-day basis.

“Hello?” Tom spoke before a nervous laugh escaped his lips, “Gerald, how are you?”, his manners were impeccable while his facial expression turned serious. A big frown crept onto his face, he bit his lower lip and slowly nodded his head. The room got silent and the assistant didn’t know what to do; she was silently contemplating whether to have a seat on the couch or stay on her feet, ready to walk away in case he wanted some privacy.

A smile appeared on her face when the actor looked at her again, smiling brightly and motioning with his hand for her to take a seat on the couch. Her stomach fluttered in delight at the fact that he wanted her near and witness this exciting moment with him.

She made her way over to the couch and was about to sit down when a loud gasp escaped his lips, a smile stretching across his handsome face. “Thank you so much! I-I can’t believe this! Thank you, thank you!” he happily spoke out and then chuckled. She stared wide eyed at him as she quickly caught onto what was happening.

He had gotten the role.

[Y/N] barely could hide her grin as she felt the anxiety disappear like a heavy weight being lifted off her shoulders. An overwhelming urge to reach out for Tom’s handsome face and press her lips against his overtook her senses. But she knew damn well that that was something didn't have the right to do. So, with a soft sigh she fought her inner voices and body parts to stay still and not do something she'd regret.

Words couldn’t describe how proud she was of him, he was perfect for the role and she couldn’t wait to see the whole production come to life. Tom would have the time of his life and gain more experience in the industry which could lead to his next job, once the play would be over.

“I certainly will!” Tom laughed and nodded his head, snapping [Y/N] back to reality. They locked eyes and just grinned at each other. “Thanks again, have a nice day. Bye!”, a loud laugh escaped his lips as he tossed his phone onto the couch and surprised his assistant by charging towards her and then quickly engulfing her in a tight embrace.

“I got the part! I can’t believe it!”

“Congrats, Tom! I knew you’d get it”. [Y/N]’s knees almost buckled as her arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders, his delicate scent filling her nostrils. Her body instantly relaxed and she felt lightheaded, she wished for this moment to last forever, this is where she felt to belong. In his arms. The actor gave her another squeeze and let out a relieved sigh, his body enjoying the intimate embrace, the sensation surprising him greatly. They had hugged countless times (which had always left [Y/N] a sensitive mess like in that current moment), but this time it felt different for him.

Her delicate scent mixed with her sweet perfume made him close his eyes, his soul suddenly being at peace. The feeling of her soft and squishy body made him bury his head in the crook of her neck and gently sigh out in pleasure. She clenched her jaw in order to stop herself from gasping out loud as an intense shiver coursed down her spine. Tom had never hugged her this way, his beard tickled her sensitive skin and she loved every second of it.

Her heart skipped a beat before playing a loud song against her ribcage, this felt like a dream. A delicate dream she hoped to never wake up from. The room was silent, their soft breathing being the only thing whispering through the atmosphere as the actor continued to enjoy the feeling of having his assistant so close to him.

Pleasant tingles coursed through his body as he absentmindedly gave her another squeeze, her beautiful face appearing behind his now closed eyelids. No one spoke a word. Just two souls initiating their passionate connection.

“Tom” [Y/N] whispered after a few minutes, needing to end the moment even if it made her heart ache. But she knew that if she wouldn’t speak up, he would and probably conclude that they’d been hugging for way too long and inappropriately. When he hummed softly and opened his eyes, he gave her one final squeeze before slowly pulling away and smiling at her. He didn’t regret anything.

He drank in the sight of her beautiful face, his eyes sparkling suddenly. “We need to celebrate this!” the excitement was slowly bubbling up again in his stomach. The assistant let out a chuckle and pulled her out her phone from her jean pocket. “Sure, who do you want me to invite?” she questioned while trying to get down from the delicate high she still was on. His cologne mixed with his mesmerising scent still lingered in her nose and her heart even ached more now.

Her fingers slightly trembled while typing in her passcode before she went on the message app, ready to send out a dinner invitation to Tom’s closest friend group. She cleared her throat and looked up again, her heart skipping another beat when she saw him smile brightly at her like she was the most delicate creature walking the earth...

“How about I cook something just for the two of us and we can celebrate with Ben, Charlie and Idris tomorrow?”.

[Y/N] let out a breathless chuckle and nodded her head, “Sounds great…”. Words couldn’t describe the euphoria pumping through her blood. Even though he hadn’t officially asked her out, she still felt happy and excited to spend some more time alone with him. She didn’t have high hopes of something happening but just being in his presence was more than enough for her to soothe her cravings temporarily and that made her gladly accept every opportunity to be alone with him, work related or not.

“Great! How about Chicken Fettucine Alfredo?”. She grinned, nodded and put her phone back into her pocket. She was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do next, a part of her wanted to throw herself back into his arms and another one to get back to her house and let the previous, intimate moment dawn onto her.

She chose the latter.

“I-I’ll go freshen up and finish some tasks for you. Let me know when you want me back” she smiled at him one last time before walking towards his front door, knowing that the actor was staring at her back. “Okay, I’ll send you a text message!” Tom gently called out and watched with a smile on his face how she waved her hand in the air to indicate that she had heard him. [Y/N] then had left his house seconds later.

“Mhm…” the actor whispered to himself, suddenly feeling his stomach sink. The happiness and excitement simmered down while he sat down on his couch and leaned back. His eyes fell shut and he thought about what just had happened: He had gotten the role of one of his favourite plays and felt like he was dreaming. He couldn’t wait to start the project and try his best to captivate the people with his talent all over again. He was going to play Robert, a man whose wife was having an affair with his best friend of several years.

He was impatient to find out who was going to be casted as the other two characters: Emma and Jerry. He appreciated and loved his work so much, but knew that he wouldn’t have gotten this special part if it weren’t for his assistant who had strongly encouraged him to audition for the play.

[Y/N].

Tom could barely express how much she had changed his life for the better when he had hired her three years ago. He just had broken up with his famous ex-girlfriend and was being bullied by her fans so much that he disappeared from the spotlight once his work schedules were cleared.

His friends didn’t see him often as he hid away in his house, trying to tune out the discomfort and regret he felt from letting the whole world focus on his relationship. He was known for keeping his private life private, but the love he had felt for her had made him disregard his own strict rule and boundary. To be publicly ridiculed was one of harshest lessons he had to learn.

That's when his agent suggested hiring a personal assistant to help him keep his profile on the down low until he’d feel better.

[Y/N] was hired not too long after his hiatus from the public eye, her job had been to see what roles the entertainment company Tom was signed to had to offer and also fulfill personal tasks like going grocery shopping or sending out birthday gifts and so on. But with her already having caught serious feelings for him, she had a natural urge to also take care of him, not as her boss but as a confidant and comforter.

It was her bright, charming and loving personality along with her soothing and encouraging ways that slowly brought Tom out of the protective bubble he had created around himself. A strong friendship was quickly formed while he felt himself change back into this natural self. A better self.

[Y/N] became his silent rock to lean on while continuing to work for him. When he was back to his naturally charming and funny self in public and private, she had become conscious about her feelings for him. She was surprised (but also very relieved) that no one had suspected anything. Benedict and his wife Sophie, Idris and his Wife Sabrina along with Charlie and his wife Samantha all had quickly grown to love her as a part of their friend group.

The assistant was way more loosened up with the actors wives as they had a very close and strong bond as women. Around the male actors, she was a tiny bit more reserved but just to keep up the professional “I am not hopelessly in love with my boss and don’t want you to know about it” act.

But Tom was just as supportive of his assistant when life became difficult for her too. Often placing a comforting hand on her shoulder or back while fighting the urge to hold her close and promise to take care of whatever issue she was facing when she couldn’t keep the tears to herself anymore. Tom and [Y/N] had come a long way together, individually and as friends.

“Bloody hell”

Tom muttered when realising that he had zoned out for a good ten minutes. His stomach was doing flips but he didn’t feel sick or nauseous. The overwhelming urge to feel [Y/N] so close to him again had left him craving for more ever since she had left his house.

He bit down onto his lower lip when he remembered the delicate sensations tingling through his body, the intensity was something the actor hadn’t experienced in a long time. Or ever. He shook his head, snapping himself out of his little daydream and shot up from the couch. “I should go grocery shopping for tonight’s celebration” was what he muttered to himself before picking up his car keys from the small coffee table and saying his goodbye to Bobby who had waltzed into the living room with a wiggly tail.

Tom chuckled, petted his beloved dog and then made his way towards the front door with a pleased smile resting on his handsome face.

~~~

“Fuck, why am I like this?” [Y/N] cried out in frustration as she was standing in her full length mirror, staring at her naked body wrapped in a towel. She just had gotten out of the shower, her skin was glistening and glowing from the lotion she had applied to her body, her hair moisturised . She was scanning her body from head to toe and slowly felt herself become insecure. She had this lingering feeling that the hug she had shared with Tom had a deeper meaning.

Her conscious refused to let go of the matter and she found herself wondering if he’d ever be interested in her. Her eyes continued to scan her body from head to toe, every thick bump and curve being intensely observed. “Stop it” she hissed at herself, shaking her head and trying to distract her craving heart from the fact that it might had found its perfect match. “I’m just the assistant” [Y/N] reminded herself before stepping away from the mirror and walking over to her closet.

She didn’t want to overdress for a simple celebration dinner, and quickly decided on a simple and comfortable outfit for the private event; a pair of black jeans, a white, long sleeved shirt with not too much cleavage and a black jean jacket in case she'd get cold.

It took her a few minutes to get dressed before she focused on her hair and light makeup. She chose to not wear many layers of makeup. Tonight she preferred a natural look that would also enable her skin to breathe easily. Once she was done, she gave herself a final look in the mirror and nodded her head in approval.

She looked beautiful, as always.

“Let’s do this then” she whispered to herself and then made her way out of her bedroom. Now all she needed was for Tom to let her know that he was to welcome her back into his house. “Okay, it’s nothing special” the assistant muttered to herself while suddenly feeling her heart starting to beat faster in her chest.

This was the usual habit she had whenever she was about to see the British actor: reminding herself that her deepest desire wouldn't become reality and to keep herself in check. [Y/N] had been in love and had loved a decent amount of people but never had she felt these intense emotions for someone.

She had been with the most charming and loving or shitty and selfish people, the heartbreaks she had gone through were either very painful and long lasting or quick and rather painless. It always made her wonder how Tom had been able to sweep her off her feet in such a delicate yet simple manner, and why she loved him stronger with each passing day.

The plus sized beauty was now in her kitchen, eating a granola bar while sitting at the counter. The silence in the house smoothly encouraged her to relax for a little while and unwind. She had finished the few tasks she had to do for her boss; making sure that his stylist had the suits ready for his public appearances that were coming up in a few days.

A BAFTA event was just around the corner and Tom had gladly accepted their invitation as he was one of the many ambassadors. The organisation had planned a few games with delightful prices such as apprentices abroad for upcoming musicians, actors and artists or tickets to Tom’s upcoming play to encourage people to get in touch with their creative self.

The actor was thrilled to meet new people and witness others from different backgrounds, to witness them earn amazing opportunities to either learn, travel or create themselves artistically.

[Y/N] wouldn’t join him to the event. She had a lengthy list of new things to work on for her boss. The final Avengers movie would be released in the theaters in a few months but Tom wouldn’t join the press tour as he’d be on stage here in London. But his own Loki series had gotten the green light so he’d have to start meeting up with the creative writers and producers to see how they’d bring the series to life. It was obvious that Tom would be booked and busy for at least a year.

[Y/N] got lost in her thoughts again, absentmindedly finishing her granola bar while planning her following weeks ahead, she knew that stressful days were ahead but she didn't mind that at all. At the end, she'd get her job done.

It took her a few minutes to snap out of her daze before her phone loudly notified her that she had received a message.

From: Tom

Finally, she thought to herself while unlocking her phone and reading Tom’s new message.

To: Me

I’m done cooking, waiting for your presence now 😊

From: Me

“Aw” the assistant cooed with a wide grin on her face, the message was so short and simple yet it made her feel like she was floating on cloud nine. Especially because Tom rarely used emojis, so to see that she was worthy enough for a smiley face filled her heart with joy.

To: Tom

Her thumb hit the sent button before she hopped off the kitchen stool, her heartbeat increasing again as she felt a rush of warmth and excitement ripple through her body.

I’m on my way 😊

[Y/N] took her purse off the counter and placed her phone in it before taking out her keys. Her footsteps softly echoed through the air as she made her way to the front door with a gorgeous smile resting on her face. She couldn’t wait to see her love again.

“Wow” was the first thing Tom whispered once he swung the door open, his eyes immediately were blessed with the sight of [Y/N] standing right in front of him. Their eyes sparkled while staring deeply into one another. “Hi” [Y/N] whispered, her body relaxing instantly while waiting for the actor to welcome her back into his home.

~~~

“Hello” Tom finally spoke, his heart pounding so hard that he was afraid she’d be able to hear it. He took a step aside and widened the door, “Please enter”. The assistant thanked him before walking into his house, not noticing how he closed the door while whispering a soft “You are so beautiful” into the air.

“It smells amazing” she complimented while already having placed her purse on the small coffee table in front of his couch, now patiently waiting for the actor to turn around and interact with her.

Tom took a few seconds to lock his door before finally turning on his heel and biting back a grin when his eyes landed on [Y/N] again. Her beauty and presence were sucking him into a delicate whirl of endless contentment, but he didn’t fight it. “Thank you, I hope you’ll enjoy the meal. How about a drink first?” he suggested while walking over to her and playfully holding out his arm to her.

She chuckled and happily linked her arm with his, his cologne mixed with his scent filling her nostrils while they made their way into the kitchen where she could hear the soft sizzling filling the air. Tom led her over to the big counter where he already had set the table and everything else up, some candles included. It looked like a romantic dinner.

[Y/N] clenched her jaw to stop herself from voicing how pretty everything looked, it looked like a meal for lovers, not employer and employee. But she swallowed her thought, not wanting to risk saying anything that could ruin the smooth and delightful vibe. So with a soft sigh, she turned around and gently thanked Tom for preparing the celebration dinner.

“Don’t even mention it” he chuckled and made sure that she was comfortably seated before he rushed over to the pans and pots and started to serve her the celebration dinner. Her mouth watered at the delicious sight and she couldn’t wait to dig in. But she patiently waited until he was done with his own plate and was seated before she rose her glass filled with non-alcoholic Peach Moscato. [Y/N] wasn’t planning on getting drunk as the next day would be very hectic for her.

"To you” she gently spoke, her heart fluttering in her chest when Tom copied her actions and smiled brightly at her. “No, to us” he added and let his glass with the same drink clink against hers.

“I didn’t do anything” the assistant responded with a soft chuckle before taking a quick sip of her drink and humming in delight. It tasted delicious. “You’re the actor who went to the audition” she added before lifting her fork and smoothly digging it into a piece of diced and seasoned chicken.

Tom shook his head while following her motions, “You did a lot actually. I wasn’t sure whether I was good enough to even audition for the role. But you encouraged me and supported me from the beginning to the end, and I can’t thank you enough for that [Y/N].

Once his words left his mouth, the room fell silent.

[Y/N] and Tom just looked at each other, so many unspoken emotions flashing past their eyes. The tension had shifted again but not to something awkward. It was like their souls were communication as the sparkles in their eyes never left. They only thought about each other and how grateful they were to be in that intimate moment with one another.

The actor couldn’t stop thinking about how he suddenly longed to be close to her again. Feel her warm and soft body pressed against him, have her scent make him forget about the world and just focus on her. His lips tingled, the urge to feel hers pressed against his overwhelming him.

[Y/N] was thinking the exact same thing, the attraction she had felt for him only became stronger with every passing moment. Her breathing became quicker when her mind started to picture how it would feel to kiss him…Hold him close while letting their lips melt together as one with nothing but love and passion.

“T-Thank you” was all she was able to say as she snapped back to reality and realised that she hadn’t responded to his kind words. Tom nodded his head and gave her a bright smile before both of them continued to enjoy the food together.

“This is scrumptious” the assistant praised with a hum before taking another bite, trying to play it cool while she felt the heat and warmth course through her body. Tom chuckled and bowed his head, blushing at the simple compliment, “I’m happy you’re enjoying it”. What he didn't voice was how he had spiced up the simple recipe, the need to impress [Y/N] driving him through the short time of preparing the meal.

The two of them then continued to eat while talking about their upcoming vacations, the production of the play wouldn't start until a few weeks and the Loki series was months away from being filmed. [Y/N] didn’t want to just talk about their work and happily listened to Tom voicing his desire to travel to Asia again for two weeks. He then told her about filming Kong: Skull Island in Vietnam and Hawaii. Throughout the dinner, his hand found hers numerous times and he gave it a gentle squeeze before sliding it back and either taking a sip of his drink or finishing his plate.

"And so I had to explain to my boss's ex-girlfriend that he had wanted the engagement ring back but that he was too embarrassed to come and collect it himself! After he had been caught red handed cheating on her!" [Y/N] finished explaining the crazy story about her previous employer, clasping her hands against her cheeks and shaking her head at the awkward memories.

___

Tom was having a delightful laugh, his cackles echoing through the kitchen while trying to imagine how his assistant must've felt in that moment. "That is just crazy! I assure you [Y/N] that I won't ever ask you to do such a thing for me" he chuckled at the end and shook his head.

"Good, because that experience made me add lots of terms and conditions to my general contract. I've actually been rejected a few times because those who had been interested in hiring me didn't approve of my demands" the assistant chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"Like I have no issues going grocery shopping for you but I won't do your dirty laundry or buy lube and condoms for you at 3 o'clock in the morning...". The last phrase made Tom almost choke on his spit before he burst out laughing again, his cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiles and laughter. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed or enjoyed someone's presence this much.

"Shit, Tom. it's almost midnight! We've been eating and goofing around for hours!" [Y/N] gasped in panic, not having realised how fast the time had rushed by. She quickly got up and took her now empty plate, strutted over to the sink and was about to wash it when Tom's voice stopped her.

"Don't even think about turning on the sink, [Y/N]. Let me do this" the soothing yet amused tone in his voice made the assistant roll her eyes and simply place her plate in the empty sink and turn around with a defeated look on her face. "Fine! But I better get going then, thanks again for the meal, it was delicious".

Tom grinned at her and joined her at the sink, both of them washing their hands before drying them and making their way out of the kitchen. "It was my utmost pleasure, [Y/N]". No words were spoken after that as the assistant collected her purse and made her way to his front door, feeling like she was floating on cloud nine.

"Let me know when you get home safely, okay?" Tom whispered while surprising her again with another gentle hug, his arms and hands welcoming her delicate body again. All poor [Y/N] could do was nod her head and close her eyes for a few seconds, no thoughts clouding her head as she lost herself into the embrace.

"Goodnight" she then whispered while pulling away, looking one last time at his handsome face before creating some space in between them, her heart feeling like it was about to combust into flames. "Goodnight beautiful, thank you for being you" Tom whispered, the sparks glistening in his eyes as he watched his assistant bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning like an idiot.

The two of them shared another gentle moment before [Y/N] turned around and left Tom's home. He watched her walk down the front porch and to the drive in where her car was parked. The man couldn't keep his eyes away from her, she was all he could think about and he couldn't stop whispering her name every few seconds while watching her drive off into the night...

Tag list: @jamesbarnesappreciationclubub l @pleasantdreamqueen l @disneymarina l l @harleycativy l @sparklemichele l @melaninmarvel l @amethyst09 l @the-force-of-imagines l @bossyboyd03 l @pebblesz892 l @stars8melanin l @brittyevans l @toc1985 l @janeyboo l @badassbaker l @winters-beauty l @cannonindeez l @ilovefanfic86 l @adorablespecialsnowflakes l @brittanyovens l @kanupps06 l @jazmynejack l @thebookwormslytherin l @theunsweetenedtruth l @talannalew l @littlexmissxfandomxlover l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes l @crimsonash330 l @booklover2929 l @aranelgrey l @panda-duuu l @thisismysecrethappyplace l @titty-teetee l @honey-anon l @princess-evans-addict l @hp-hogwartsexpress l @malindacath l @letsdisneythings l @scorpionchild81 l @shado-raven l @alisoncdariel l @plutoneu l @queenoftheworldisdead l @briannab1234l @miyaeadys-blog l @thenamelesscorpse2185 l @hihellogoodbyebruh l @nackrosor l @nerdgurl1985 l @2darkskinbeauty l @bugngiz l @african-melanin-goddess l @barnes-wilson-love l @ktiz90 l @let-the-love-in l @forlornfortitude l @robinredboob l @hopefuloperaangelnerd l @kola95 l @partypoison00 l @alwaysadreamingoptimist l @reniescarlett l @g0thicdream l @mayasopinions l @captaintightpants58 l @leillee l @kayleighsimone

-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelson #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston x plus size reader #tom hiddleston x plus #plus size reader

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debbiebeary · 3 years

Text

Disgust and Ecstasy

“God, Dillon, your butt is so damn perfect!” crooned Brian between mouthfuls of his sweet, young starfish. Dillon whipped his legs around in ecstasy on the bed where, occasionally, Brian and his husband (presently at work) would sleep in together. The room was tight, but cozy inside the charming 1920’s-era character home. The last shimmers of dusk shone blue through the window and the amber glow of a lamp on the other side of the room bounced off a far wall, flooding the two writhing men in its honeyed light. “Thanks big daddy!” the handsome young cub replied, his tongue flopped out of his mouth in bliss as his heavy set daddy friend slurped between his fit little asscheeks.

Dillon was attending university in the Pacific Northwest in the Willamette valley, just over the cascades was the town of Alder Glade, where Brian worked on the school district board and was also a producer at the local theatre.

The two were drawn to one another initially through mutual attraction. Dillon was a chubby chaser. Always had been, always would be, and from the moment he set his eyes on the Nordic beefcake he was sold. Eyes sparkling blue like a glacial lake, a full greying beard unsuccessfully covering a thick neck, double chin and perky chubby cheeks. Down lower Brian had a healthy portion of fur covering his meaty chest and round pot belly.

A belly that was almost always sucked in, much to Dillon’s lament.

Brian may have been a chubby daddy, but he was what some people may call a ‘sad chub’, an ‘accidental bear’ (as opposed to an on purpose bear), a ‘reluctant fat boy’. He may have enjoyed the attention from younger men his status gave him, but if things were up to him he would have been a lean muscle bear with not an ounce of fat on him.

Dillon, though enjoying the romps with the larger daddy, (as presently he was twisted around with his back against the sheets, the big daddy bear lunging towards his erect, throbbing member, sinking down all the way to his brown bush), he couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing.

In the last year since university he had put on thirty pounds, going from roughly one hundred and thirty pounds to one hundred and sixty, if he had it his way he'd add at least another hundred pounds on top of where he was, too. He felt sexier than ever, yet as he guided his daddies hand to his softening stomach, he felt Brian scoff through his fellatio, reluctantly giving his cubby a rather passionless belly rub. He couldnt help but feel a little bit deflated in response, but he tried hard to stay hard. Turns out it was hard work.

Dillon rolled his eyes and tried his best to enjoy the blowjob. Imagining his friend stating ‘oh my, look at this belly you’re growing, fattening up nicely aren’t we, boy?’ or ‘looks like my little butterball is going to be a bear soon’ while giving his growing tummy a healthy slap. He could tell, however, this would never be the case. Brian liked him because he had just enough meat on his bones he wasn’t skinny anymore, but too much more meat would be more than the older bear could stomach. He loved his fur, his skin, his hazel eyes and mischievous smirk. He did not like his gaining fetish.

“C’mon big daddy. Rub my big belly!” said Dillon in a husky voice.

“You’re still just an otter, boy.” The daddy growled as his face was buried in his crotch between his budding fupa and thickening thigh. Dillon hated it when his daddy friend downplayed his weight gain. Total boner killer.

Dillon sighed.

“Alright Brian, time for me to fuck that fat ass.” Dillon chirped excitedly, trying to keep things interesting, especially after that intentionally disruptive comment of Brians.

Which brings us to the second issue between the two, Brian was a reluctant bottom, only taking the position so he could get his hands on Dillon’s 'still perfect' body. He wasn’t, however, particularly enthusiastic about the whole setup and sighed deeply before taking the position.

“Alright boy,” he said, sticking his chubby ass up into the air, at two hundred eighty pounds and a height of six foot three, it gave Dillon quite the mountain to climb for his prize. But as usual, that wasn’t the position Dillon wanted to take Brian. He stared and smirked in response,

"C'mon boy, I don't have all night, Ken will be home at 11."

“Naw big bear, not like that. On your back. I wanna see your big sexy belly!” Brian failed to fully hide a grimace as he flipped onto his back, his tummy wobbling slightly as he did so, only slightly, however because Brian’s abdomen was still tensed in vain, always to Dillon’s chagrin.

“Oooh fuck that’s so hot Brian!”

“Well at least someone likes it!”

“Oh god yeah I do,” Dillon said, guiding his lubed up dick towards Brian’s hole between his fluffy buns, “fuck yes I dooo!” he moaned as his cock sunk into Brian’s hole.

“fuck…” Dillon moaned as he began to rock on his knees against Brian’s chubby rear. Brian’s cheeks were red and sweat began seeping out onto his bald forehead as he was beginning to get pounded, Dillon often started slow but often reached a fever pitch. Brian's cheeks and chin began to wobble with every thrust, but those weren't the only features jiggling.

As Dillon found his rhythm he looked down at Brian’s gut, when he was being pounded in missionary there was no attempt to suck in, showing, at last, the tubby extent of Brian’s grey furred belly. The faster and harder Dillon pumped his dick into Brian the more Brian’s chunky belly began to ripple, his shallow but wide belly button beckoned him and Dillon began to finger and massage it,

“Such a sexy belly, daddy.”

“Thanks…” Brian croaked dubiously.

Dillon leaned forward and clamped his mouth around Brian’s fat moob, sucking hard on his nipple.

“Ohhhh, boy, that feels so good!” moaned Brian despite himself.

“Fuck I love nursing your fat tiddies daddy!”

As Dillon got closer and closer to his climax he released Brian’s legs and grabbed his soft, wobbling gut with both his hands, shaking it with all his might, rippling his fat as he began to pound Brian’s rear as hard as he could,

“So. Fucking. Fat!” Dillon cried out as he flooded Brian’s guts with cum.

Dillon rolled off Brian panting and Brian finished himself off quickly with his right hand and a few flicks of his wrist, snuggling up to Dillon after getting off.

Dillon had news but he wasn’t even sure he wanted to say it out loud.

“In a few weeks I’m going to Vancouver to see a feeder.” He said simply

“Dillon,” Brian responded in a concerned tone, “I’m getting worried about this fetish of yours.”

Dillon sighed and rolled his eyes reading Brian’s text after sending him a dick pic.

Brian: you better watch that belly, son, I don’t want it to get too big and cover your cock and your bush.

Dillon wanted more than anything for it to cover his cock and his bush. Comments like this weren’t rare either, they were getting more common, especially after his lecture about abdominal weight being bad for the heart the last time they were both together before his trip up to Vancouver.

‘Yadda yadda. Like I haven’t had that catastrophizing, clean eating, healthy heart shit crammed down my throat all my life,’ Dillon would always think when confronted with such obtuse sermonizing.

Sermonizing that was becoming more and more common in recent times and not without a cause either.

It had been three months since the feeding in Vancouver B.C., which occurred late November. The trip was a hedonistic foray with a handsome blonde bear named Hayden, who sat at a rotund two hundred eighty five pounds and had a thick slab of an overhang tantalizing Dillon between every mouthful of sea-salted chocolate caramel ice cream (lactose free). His deep, mostly smooth but only very lightly blonde-furred belly and golden skin, only interrupted by the odd mole (which Dillon thought was sexy anyhow) and dopey, thick bearded face drove Dillon to the heights of ecstasy.

Since that meeting something clicked in Dillon’s brain. Mainly his appetite. The consequence? A lot had changed. Particularly Dillon’s waistline. Brian was right to cringe. Dillon had blossomed from one hundred and sixty pounds to one hundred eighty five. The twenty five pound gain hardly went unnoticed. Classmates made fun of his double chin. He bought an entire new wardrobe. His parents were concerned. His sister across in Baltimore laughed at his chubby face over Zoom. All in all he was feeling rather pleased with himself.

He looked in the mirror and stretched his arms above his head until the shirt he was wearing rode up all the way past his bellybutton.

“Finally outgrown mediums!” He exclaimed to himself cheerfully. Cupping the belly with both hands, he lifted it from underneath, pooching it up, making the bellybutton appear deeper. He stuck his finger in. With the belly smooshed up the way it was his finger was already as far in as it would go as it did when he put it in Brian’s. He imagined himself fatter.

Brian: it’s going to be fun playing with that dick this weekend, boy.

Dillon paused. Fiendishly, he propped his phone against a cup and a shampoo bottle in front of his dorm mirror and angled his phone until it framed his belly perfectly. He took a video of himself jiggling his new soft belly, fur abound, some of it getting sucked into the black hole of his belly button. After a few jiggles get gave his little growing gut a few meaty slaps and ended the recording. He then sent it to Brian.

Brian: that’s an unfortunate look.

Dillon: how come?

Three dots scintillating in that monochromatic frosted blue inside the mellow primary blue bubble. Then they stopped. Dillon face twisted with mischief.

Dillon: is it because my belly is getting big?

Three dots. This time a response followed.

Brian: Dillon. You’re getting too fat.

Dillon’s dick sprang to attention.

Brian: You need to start hitting the gym before you get any bigger.

Dillon’s dick throbbed so hard he felt like he would faint. Through his wicked, lust-fuelled haze a seed of a scheme germinated and burst through the damp soil of his mind, a season full of conniving growth passed in an instant.

‘I wonder how much fatter I can get before I see him again?’

Dillon: how fat is too fat?

Brian: when you have the same BMI as I do.

Dillon quickly added things up, Brian’s BMI had recently gone up due to him gaining back a bunch of weight, now sitting at three hundred twenty pounds. To which he couldn’t even coax a belly pic from Brian (well, he managed to get one, but Brian was standing with ‘good posture’ and sucking in his gut so hard it made his face look constipated).

‘6’3, 320 lbs.’

‘5’11, 185…’

He played with the numbers on the BMI converter on his phone until they showed him what he needed to know.

He needed to gain one hundred pounds.

‘So be it then’

Quickly, he thought up a lie, a delicious one, and concocted a plan in his head immediately.

Dillon: oh man! I’m sorry daddy! My sister is coming over from Baltimore, haven’t seen her in a while. We’ll have to reschedule!

Brian: aww, that’s too bad cub. Have fun with your family though!

Dillon: sure thing!

Three more months of classes. He’d been sitting on his lazy ass eating cafeteria food, fast food and tonnes of soda, milk everything. It’s what caused his weight to go up so drastically in just three months. He calculated at least another twenty pounds.

‘185 + 20….’

Unable to contain himself, be brushed his growing pink nipples amongst a sea of fur after ripping his shirt off over his head in a swift motion.

‘…= 205lbs’

He had to take his hand off his dick so he didn’t cum.

He never thought he’d be over two hundred, and just in time for swimsuit season he calculated - a conservative estimate -that he would be at least five pounds over.

His next thoughts made his body operate as if on autopilot.

Dillon: hey Hayden, does your work still need an extra guy… uh, bearista? And are you still looking for a room mate? Maybe I could come up and fill both those positions. That is if they’re willing to pay an illegal American under the table.

The very thought of his plan working filled Dillon with such lust he looked in the mirror and thought about what he would look like at two-o-five.

Then he thought what it would look like at two eighty five.

He plunged his thumb into his belly button and wrapped his fingers down under his belly, he stood hunched so he gave himself an overhang to grab onto. Dropping his phone into the empty sink, he twisted his nipple with his other hand.

“Yeah, fuckin piggy. We,” he jiggled his belly to let it know he was addressing it, “we got a lot of growing to do in Canada, don’t we piggy? Yeah, I’m gonna get so fuckin fat, I’m gonna get so big it’ll give Brian a fuckin stroke!” He said, his voice getting whiny and lustful “Brian? Uh, fuck. Brian, why are you looking at me like that?”

And he mimicked Brian’s voice,

“Good-god boy! What the fuck have you done to yourself!?” a vividly imagined expression popped into Dillon’s head of a dismayed Brian looking down at an obese Dillon splayed out on his bed, fat rolls cascading down his furry body.

At that, wheezing and panting, clearly on his way to becoming out of shape, he threw his head back, stumbling backwards against the wall, and sprayed his load all over his chunky reflection in front of him.

“Oh fuck yea!”

After he cleaned up he remembered the text that sent him on his horned out fantasy. Grabbing his phone, he noticed two texts that made him want to do it all over again.

Brian: don’t eat too much with your family! You’re getting too chubby! Maybe hit the gym instead.

He’d lay into that last comment for sure. As a lie. Then he read the next one.

Hayden: yeah bud! We’d love to have you up here! I’m over 330 now and only getting bigger, maybe I’ll rub off on you a bit!

“Rub off on me? That’s the idea baby!”

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moonyblackwerewolf · 3 years

Text

Betrothed Ch. 1 - Sirius Black

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.653

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, 'aggressive' parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: so this is just an idea for a possible series!! i never published anything before so i’m kind of scared but i really hope you like it!! :) xxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5

(not my gif)

Diner party

The Royal Manor of Watson was a cold palace, stone walls, rich decorations, sumptuous, but intimidating. The Watsons were cold people, living in a house too big for five people, but Y/N thought it was only fitting, since her parent’s ego was as big as the manor itself. Their pureblood mania deep in their minds, untouchable, which made their daughter’s life miserable. They were the perfect family on the outside but rotten in the inside, three children, Diana, two years older than Y/N, beautiful, smart and most importantly just as purist as their parents and William, tall, handsome, sophisticate and serious, he was the older sibling, three years older than Diana, he was already working with their father on the Ministry of Magic, daddy’s favourite. Home was big, impressive, a dream home if you saw it, libraries, uncountable bedrooms and living rooms, ball rooms, huge gardens, and everything you could ask for but it was far from being a welcoming home.

Though, all of her miserableness went away once she first went to Hogwarts. Of course, being sorted in Slytherin and having good grades was minimal when it came to living up to her parents’s expectations, which were high and if not complied there would most certainly have severe consequences, but still Hogwarts was more of a Home than the Watson Manor ever was.

Throughout the years, Hogwarts had become her first true home. There she felt the warm winds, the familiar feeling in the great halls, friendships, all she ever hoped for was there, a home, but not quite yet. She met Elizabeth Greengrass a blonde, tall thin girl with deep grey eyes and enviable beauty, Katherine Abbott who looked almost like Diana, but shorter, longer darker hair, blue-green eyes and thiner face. The three girls became best friends right after being sorted into Slytherin. Later on her second year she met Elijah Lestrange, through her sister, he was a year older, handsome and had a polite appearance. Y/N loved her friends but they shared the same blind beliefs her parents do, she’d always nod when they talked about mudblood, choosing not to create conflict, she couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, her parents couldn't disagree more, controlling they way they were, they were more than satisfied to know that their daughter’s inner circle contained only close family friends’s children.

The Marauders were quite famous for their pranks since first year, Y/N always admired their courage and wit, but her siblings and friends didn’t share the same opinion. When she was around them she’d always get a look from her sister, her brother or her friends would push her away, which only made them more interesting. Although, with time, she stopped trying and just kept living her life the way her family wanted her to.

Until summer break before 5th year, at least.

By then Sirius had already gained his bad boy reputation. Y/N had known Black for a long time, only by sight, his family was friends with hers and his cousin, Narcissa, hangs out with her sister, she’d see him in the pureblood elite parties they were forced to attend, they’d exchange glances but never talked. Sirius was once again being forced to go to some snobby party from snobby people. He couldn’t count in a thousand hands how many other places he’d rather be, but there he was sitting in a huge room full of people he despised, until a certain girl he recognised from other dinner parties and Hogwarts caught his attention, she was Remus’ partner in DADA, though he wasn’t sure, he never paid much attention in classes, pranking the student body was much more entertaining.

She caught his eye from a couch across the room. She was stunning, he thought, her slightly wavy H/C hair matching her S/C skin, freckled rosy cheeks and her alluring E/C eyes. Sirius only hoping she was different from the other brainwashed people in that house.

“Hey” Sirius said softly while he approached the girl that was, apparently, just as bored as he was, to his luck. “Not your scene, love?” He asked with his signature smirk on his face, wanting some good company for once at these afternoons.

“Not really” she chuckled, not knowing exactly what else to say, they weren’t close and she was a bit shy. But she was being honest, these parties were hell, full of families who thought too much of themselves, she didn't feel much like them, but she could fit in she was quiet and not nearly as loud as Sirius was about her beliefs. No one knew.

“By any chance would you know whose death palace are we on? I mean it’s huge but it looks like Salazar himself lived here, it gives me the creeps” he paused laughing “and my house it’s not a Hufflepuff common room or anything” Sirius said mockingly, not knowing exactly who he was talking with.

“Well” she chuckled awkwardly “It is my parents’, but i know, it’s not very homey, looks like a dark theatre or something and Salazar did live here, family heirloom” she laughed for real this time, she didn’t take it as an offence, if anything she couldn’t agree more.

“How come we never crossed each others path before?” Sirius asked wondering why they never talked on one of those parties or at school.

“I guess I usually just stay in the corners, like today” she chuckled.

The two of them bonded after talking for a while, they discovered that both of them hated these things, Sirius couldn't get how she managed to hide her feelings so well, she looked so much like them. After laughing, talking about school, Sirius was a part of the infamous marauders, telling stories and joking around, for the first time any of them could think of, they had fun in a family party, since Sirius’ friends weren’t pureblood except for Potter but his family had been banished from the sacred twenty-eight for being “blood traitors” and Y/N’s friends’ parents kept them at their side the whole time for “good image”.

Y/N stole a bottle of fire whiskey from the cellar and started showing the house to Sirius, while the two of them drank more than their bodies could handle, who was just as pleased as her for making fun of the paintings and carpets and the fancy but useless stuff their families valued so much. As they entered a room, particularly big and empty, Sirius had to catch his breath, Y/N and him started running through the halls before entering the room they were now on. He had only now realised that he had grabbed her hand, and apparently she hadn’t noticed until now too, making her blush furiously, releasing each other’s hand quickly and Sirius teased.

“getting comfy are we?” He smirked, as she blushed at his comment. They were very close, he could feel her breath catching. “Where would we be now, love?” He asked inching closer to her.

The both teenagers weren’t thinking straight anymore, the alcohol in their system already influencing their emotions. All they could think about, was how their touch felt electrical and the magnetic pull they were feeling towards each other, wondering how would their lips feel like. They just wanted to have fun, not caring about consequences that moment.

“Ball room” she said innocently but still a bit teasingly, not backing away from him as he inched closer to her “East wing, third floor, far away from where the party is going on, on the first floor” she bit her lip “But still very close to a room-” she said boldly wanting to see his reaction to her suggestions “-two doors away near a window at the end of the hall next to a beautiful painting of my favourite flowers” she said voice husky and breathy, making Sirius groan.

He chuckled low, “And may I ask you whose room is that?” They were now so close that their lips were slightly brushing.

“Why don’t you take me there and see for yourself” she said feeling a flip on her stomach and with a swift motion he lift her up bridal style, making her shiver at the contact, but then laughed, his hand gripping her body and legs tightly as he followed her instructions to get to her room. Once there, he settled her down on her bed and admired the girl in front of him, lust in his eyes. She smiled and bit her lip, she knew Sirius’ reputation, only one night stands, he was a ladies man, but she didn’t care, she wanted him, the fact that her mother would murder her if she ever found out only made it all more exciting.

Sirius took a look at the room, it wasn’t dark as the rest of the house was, it was still sophisticated, but nicer, the detailed wood on the wall was white and, above, the wall it self was light lilac, the room had big windows covered by delicate curtains and even had a balcony, and everything matched between the lilac and whites tones, she had a few paintings and pictures, and flowers, probably fake but still beautiful, the same flowers as on the darker painting outside, her four poster bed that matched the couches by the windows had delicate semi transparent white curtains and her silk white sheets were under a soft lilac blanket, she had a lot of silk pillows with subtle embroidered details on the corners, it was certainly appealing he thought, a beautiful room fit for a princess. Then he was brought back to reality.

“Do you think our parents are wondering where we are?” He asked with a still semi amazed look, it made her laugh, she patted the sheets next to her, inviting him to sit, he sat closely to her and then suddenly she went to the middle of the bed, which was big, pushing his wrists and they sat there, her legs crossed.

“They probably are” she affirmed giggly, she hadn't let his wrists go yet, she was holding it gently. “But, they won’t find us here, even though it’s pretty obvious that i’d hide in my room. Mom and dad wouldn’t leave the party” She paused and laughed “And well your parents certainly won’t come up here to my room i guess” He chuckled at her commentary.

“Well, well, miss perfect pureblood daughter escaping a dinner-party with the rebel Black son, who’d have thought” Sirius said dramatically, she laughed at him.

“Guess this Black here is just a bad influence on me, or… I just put on a good facade” she said more serious this time, voice low, eyes fixated on his. Her hand tracing their way up his arm, his gaze fixed on her movements. “And the fact that if mommy finds out i brought a guy to my room, and that he’s in my bed with me, would make her go crazy, only turns me on” Sirius let a little breathy moan escape his throat.

When Sirius looked at her she was already looking at him, lust all over her eyes. He trailed off just a little and asked, voice low “Y/N… are you sure you want this?” She nodded so he grabbed her waist and pulled her to his lap, he was holding her waist, lips brushing, he finally kissed her, the kiss felt electrical, it was slow and passionate at first but then I grew more heated. One of her hands was wrapped in his neck, the other was holding his chest going slowly lower, he was pulling her impossibly closer, the both couldn't get enough of each other. They had to pause for catching a breath, in the mean time Sirius leant over pushing Y/N down onto bed earning a tiny moan form her. They started kissing again, but this time was less passionate, more lustful and heated, Sirius started fiddling with her dress’ zipper and took it off slowly, undressing her, tracing kisses in each piece of newly exposed skin until she was only in her underwear, She, then, pushed his blazer off then started unbuttoning his shirt while kissing and sucking his neck making him moan. Once they were both in their underwear Sirius looked at her searching for a final consent, when she nodded, he took the rest of their clothes off.

“What do you want princess?” He asked kissing his way down from her cheek, to her jaw, neck, breasts and she moaned a little louder, the nickname turned her on even more. “Hmm??” He groaned waiting for her answer. “I want to her you say it”

“I… want you” she said between moans, after that she pulled his boxers down kissing him desperately, waiting to feel him against her in the most intimate way possible, the feeling was ethereal.

——————————

They laid in her bed legs tangled under the silk sheets, her head laid in his chest, his hands caressing her back while the other wrapped around her waist pulling her closer, making her shiver, the both of them catching their breaths while he stroke figure eights on her back inhaling her delicate floral floral scent. It felt heavenly to be there by his side, neither of them wanting to let go of one another, enjoying every moment before reality came back to them, but they knew they’ve been gone for too long, the party was probably ending.

“Sirius” she said voice as low as a whisper “This was nice” he smiled at her and pulled her to a kiss.

“Yes, it’s nice to have some fun in these events, and you love, are the most fun I could've had today” he said trailing his hand on her lower back “I mean, this is certainly the best place my parents could’ve dragged me to”. It made her chuckle. He never thought he’d fuck a girl his mother would approve and in one of their elite parties, but here he was, proof that Sirius Black always managed to corrupt girls, anywhere.

“Glad you liked it then” she said chuckling while she buried her head in his neck. But they couldn’t go on with this any longer. “You should go first” she said “Your parents are probably looking for you and it would be suspicious if we showed up together” she advised “Since the fact that we’re both missing from the party is already very much suspicious” she said laughing this time.

“Sure, love” he helped her get dressed before dressing himself and gave one last peck on her lips before getting out of bed. “See you” with a wink and that signature smile of his, he left, leaving her there with her thoughts about the events of this evening and the captivating boy, while rubbing her hands lightly where he left love bites on her neck, knowing she’d have trouble walking tomorrow and a bad headache from all the drinking. She decided it was best if she took a shower, changed into her pyjamas and if her parents show up there, she’d say she wasn't feeling well and wanted to sleep.

On his way back Sirius kept thinking about Y/N and how much they’re alike, she was the only nice person he met in one of those parties, she was a good kisser too. Starting to get confused on why he was thinking so much about the girl and the strange feeling she caused on him, but then assumed it was because of all the drinking, he didn't realise his mother, father and brother were waiting for him in the foyer and their faces weren’t kind, he knew it’d be a long night back home. But he didn’t care his only thoughts were about going back to Hogwarts and seeing her again.

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bosspigeon · 3 years

Text

Carabosse et la Fee des Lilas

Prompt: 💋Drag

Pairing: Adam/Male Detective, Bonus Found Family Vibes~

Words: 5,346

Summary: Tina spends some quality time with Arlo and Unit Bravo as they prepare for Wayhaven's first real Pride festival, Tina torments her best friend and his maybe-boyfriend (as is her god-given right), and Arlo has a big think about his favorite role and what that role allowed him to explore~

CW for references to transmisogyny and implications of past trans/homophobia

Sometimes, Tina wonders if Arlo missed his true calling. His hands are surgeon-steady as he pencils delicate patterns onto Felix’s cheeks, outlining with white eyeliner in preparation to fill them in with bold colors and glitter. Tina almost can’t wait for her turn, even though Felix looks like he’s in real, physical pain with the effort of holding as still as possible. She’s no stranger to that struggle herself.

Neither is she a stranger to Arlo’s forceful, if toothless, threats, overcome as she is by fondness when he growls that he's going to draw a mustache on Felix’s face with permanent marker if he doesn’t stop bloody bouncing.

It’s pretty fun to watch from the outside. Sure, when you first sit down when he’s like this—all sharp and snappish and “stop moving or I’ll chuck you out the window”—it’s hard to keep still, but Arlo’s got this sort of quiet intensity to him when he’s focusing on something that’s oddly meditative. He’s just a soothing presence, really. Like a capybara or something. He’s friend-shaped.

Whatever weird magic it is, it’s definitely catching, because Felix looks less like he’s about to burst, like he did when Arlo was putting down the foundation, and more like he’s enjoying the attention. Tina’s not sure how long it’s going to last, seeing as Felix has given her a run for her money in the “manic energy” department, and he’s nowhere near as caffeinated as she is at any given time, but for the time being, he’s (mostly) still and quiet.

There’s music playing, quiet enough that the broody one (she knows his name, but it seems to bug him when she calls him "the broody one," which is funny, so—) only grumbled about it for a few minutes when Arlo turned it on, and even seems to enjoy sitting close enough to Arlo’s stupidly fancy stereo system to, she guesses, feel the rumble of the bass through the floor. Vampires are weird.

Anyway, it’s Arlo’s usual sad goth boy nonsense, but as quiet as it is, and with its intense instrumentals and rumbling vocals, it’s pleasant background noise more than anything.

Nate (the handsome and charming one, because of course all Arlo’s vampire friends are handsome, so she has to differentiate between them somehow) is rifling through Arlo’s bookshelf like it’s his job, and visibly struggling to pick something to read, because Arlo’s sitting room bookshelf (the one she found at a yard sale three hours away and lashed to the top of her sedan with every single bungee cord she could find at the local hardware store because it was coffin-shaped, for god's sake) is where he keeps all his weirdo occult stuff to, quote, “make people who pop by unannounced leave faster.”

And then there’s the big, handsome, stupidly fit blonde Arlo still won’t call his boyfriend, even though they’re so obvious it’s sickening, and she means that with all the love in her heart. He’s sitting in the armchair by the bookshelf, positioned so he can look like he’s reading one of Arlo’s old music magazines and totally isn’t taking advantage of the perfect line of sight of Arlo perched on the end of his coffee table so he’s not too tall to work on Felix, sitting in a chair from the kitchen. Tina sure hopes he doesn’t think he’s subtle, being a super special vampire secret agent and all.

He seems to notice her eyeing him, at least, and keeps his attention pinned firmly on the magazine, though he is definitely not reading a single word. Nate keeps browsing, the Broody One keeps brooding, Arlo keeps working, and Felix starts to hum. Arlo gives him a sharp look, but it doesn’t seem to be moving his face in any major way, so he just rolls his eyes and keeps tracing pretty patterns onto that unfairly smooth, dark skin. Do vampires do skin care? They probably don’t even need to, and that’s probably one of the reasons people like to villainize them. It always comes down to jealousy, doesn’t it?

She sighs, loudly enough that every eye in the room turns to her, and while she did not expect the sudden attention, she knows she can at least use it to entertain herself. She homes in on Adam, and smiles when she finally looks at the magazine he’s still valiantly pretending to read. There’s a familiar man on the cover, and while she can’t be bothered to remember his name, she grins. “Oh, hey! Arlo, he’s reading the one with the guy who looks like you!”

Arlo doesn’t even look up, but he huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes again. He’s going to give himself a headache if he keeps that up.

The comment does exactly what she wants it to, which is draw the attention of all the other vampires. Arlo even begrudgingly pulls the pencil away from Felix’s cheek so he can take a look, and he immediately bursts out laughing.

“Arlo!” he exclaims, slapping at Arlo’s knee. “You didn’t tell us you had a twin!”

Nate chuckles (warm and rich and handsome, if a sound can be called handsome) and turns from the shelf to study the magazine curiously himself. Even the Broody One peers over to see, a little smirk curling his permanently-scowling mouth.

“Considering he was born in the sixties, I definitely don’t,” Arlo drawls. “Tina’s been making that joke since we were kids. She’s just happy she’s got an audience who hasn’t heard it twelve times a week since she first saw my old Type O Negative poster.”

“Some jokes just get better with time,” Tina says archly. “Like a fine wine.”

“And some jokes age like milk,” Arlo fires back.

Adam tilts the magazine so he can look for himself, and his dour expression clouds over even more, brows furrowing and mouth twisting. He peers up at Arlo, studying him, then down again.

Got you. “Yeah, you’re right,” Tina says, nodding sagely at him. “Arlo’s much prettier.”

It has exactly the reaction she was hoping for. Arlo drops his eyeliner pencil and makes a strangled noise, glowering at her with his cute freckly cheeks going all red, and Adam, who is a good bit paler than Arlo, goes pink from the crewneck of his just-this-side-of-too-tight tee shirt to his hairline. Tina wants to punch the air as the other vampires snicker at them. Well, except for Nate. Nate’s not a snickerer. He chortles. It’s adorable.

“Speaking of pretty!” Felix crows once they’ve all had a laugh at their fearless leader’s expense. He points to his own face with both hands, dancing in his chair, and Arlo sighs and rolls his eyes again, bending to pick up the dropped pencil. Luckily, the tip isn’t broken, so he can get right back to work, once he’s given the young vampire a moment to get his wiggles out. He settles, sitting on his hands and pursing his lips when Arlo gives him a dry look. He hovers back in with the pencil, and then Felix blurts out, “How’d you get so good at this anyway? Well, I assume you’re good at it. I haven’t seen it yet.”

Arlo doesn’t say anything. He just looks at him, pencil poised, until Felix pinches his mouth shut with a quick little apology. Once Arlo’s satisfied his canvas is actually going to hold still and keep quiet, he gets back to it. “My school was pretty small, especially compared to the bigger-name performing arts schools out there,” he says after a moment of quiet focus, tracing the outline of a heart around one of Felix’s eyes. “Our department didn’t really have a huge budget, and workspace was at a premium too. We didn’t have a lot of time to prepare for performances before someone else had to use the theatre, so we all did our own makeup at once, for the most part. Sometimes we’d help each other out, because we all had our strengths and weaknesses.”

He pulls back the pencil, squinting critically at the heart like it’s not completely perfect. “Demi was the best at laying the groundwork, and at matching colors to our costumes and complexions. Viv was the best at coming up with concepts and making sure we looked like a matching set. Wendi could do insane prosthetics, and was the best at bullying our department head into giving us the money for them. I had the steadiest hands, so I always did the eyes and the details.”

“Was Wendi the one who did your Dracula look?” Tina gasps. “That one was so cool!”

“Dracula?” Felix blurts. Tina doesn’t miss how the others perk up with interest too.

Arlo glares at him, and he shrinks back with a sheepish little grin. “Yeah, we did Dracula, uh… second year, I think? That was when Tilly transferred in and started doing our choreography. She’s the one who got Professor Dacey to let us do less classical stuff and start branching out a bit.” He glances briefly at Tina, staunchly ignoring the way Felix pouts at him for dividing his attention. “And, yeah, Wendi did the prosthetics for that one.”

“She’s got to be magic,” Tina asserts. “She managed to make your sweet, mopey face look so scary.”

Felix and Mason both snicker at that, and Arlo’s mouth goes all lemon-sour pinchy, like it always does when she calls him a sad puppy man, or any variation thereof.

“Take a lap,” Arlo says to Felix. “Don’t touch your face.” He jerks his head at Tina when Felix bolts to his feet and starts zooming around the flat to get out some of his energy. “Your turn, if you’re done being a comedian.”

“I’m never done,” she says with a sunny smile, but she bounces over to take Felix’s place in the chair and closes her eyes serenely so he can start on her makeup.

“And, God, do I know it,” he grumbles under his breath, knowing full well she can hear him, and so can everyone else in the room, too.

“Do you have pictures?” Felix hollers. He’s dipped into Arlo’s studio, and he’s making no secret of rifling through the desk in there, drawers slamming and paper rustling.

Arlo tips his head back so when he sighs, loud and dramatically long-suffering, he’s not blowing his breath right in Tina’s face. She appreciates the gesture. “Bottom right drawer,” he calls back, resignation thick in his voice. Given how long he’s been putting up with Tina—and Felix might just be Tina’s second platonic soulmate (Arlo, of course, being the first)—he already knows that keeping quiet is just prolonging the inevitable. Tina opens her eyes briefly to see Felix come sailing out of the studio with a thick leather-bound album held triumphantly over his head.

“Oh, I haven’t seen that in years!” she coos happily.

Arlo bops her on the forehead pointedly with a sponge covered in foundation, and she closes her eyes obediently.

She hears Arlo’s antique sofa creak as Felix plops down onto it, rifling through the plastic pages. “Aw,” he whines, “no baby pictures?”

“I can’t imagine him ever being a baby,” Mason snorts, and he sounds closer than he was before. Tina knows better than to open her eyes while Arlo’s in the zone, though. He’ll bop her with something less soft than a sponge next time. “I figured he’s just always been a giant.”

Felix laughs, high and chiming. “No wonder Agent Priestley’s always so sour, then,” he says. Tina giggles, and it becomes an inelegant snort when Arlo bops her again on the nose.

“Ask Rebecca if you want to see my baby pictures,” Arlo mutters blandly, and Tina can feel the weight of his attention. “I doubt she has many after age two, and the ones before I’ve barely seen.”

Tina’s not a super-special supernatural secret agent, but she tries with all her might to will someone to change the subject before things get weird. Now’s as good a time as any to learn telepathy.

Felix, heart of her heart, interrupts what’s shaping up to be a real prize winner of an awkward silence with a loud gasp. “Woah!” he exclaims, and pages crinkle as he presumably holds up the book for Arlo to see. “Who’s this? Did you do her makeup too?”

Arlo’s hair rustles as he turns his head away from her, and then the hand on her cheek freezes. Tension radiates through every inch of his body, practically leaching into hers. She cautiously opens one eye, and sees Arlo sitting up impeccably straight, stiff as a board and staring at Felix like a deer in the headlights. He swallows so hard she can see his throat move. “Um,” he says, stilted and strange. “Yeah. I did.”

Tina opens both eyes and squints at the photo album. Oh.

Felix looks at the sudden strain in the way Arlo is sitting, the tightness of his posture, and looks quizzically down at the picture again.

Tina remembers that performance. She remembers Arlo dancing (ha) around the subject when she asked him teasingly if he was going to be playing the prince, who was the lead, was he excited to kiss a pretty girl?

She can’t remember the character’s name, not so many years after the fact, especially since they were all weird classical nonsense, either Latin or French or some mishmash of the two. But she remembers the costume. She remembers waiting with bated breath to see Arlo onstage, to stand and scream and cheer obnoxiously loud in support of her best friend. She shot to her feet the second she saw his obvious silhouette rise from a feather-bedecked black chariot, head and shoulders taller than anyone else onstage. The music swelled, lightning flashed, and then when the spotlight hit him, she was so stunned she plopped right back into her seat with her jaw on the floor.

Arlo’s always been one of those guys that straddled the line between pretty and handsome. Long, lustrous hair and eyelashes she would kill for, cheekbones that could kill, a defined jaw, a proud nose, and intense eyes she could only call sultry—if she hadn’t known him since they were both weird, gawky brats, she’d probably be half in love with him before figuring out she wasn’t his cup of tea. But seeing him onstage was always an adventure. He threw himself into whatever character he played, put his everything into them, from the costume to the makeup to the performance. He just became the character, and in a way that was so very Arlo, all that intensity and focus channeled into an act that completely stole the show, in Tina’s humble and completely unbiased opinion.

Carabosse! That was her name!

Carabosse was no different.

Arlo’s makeup was flawless, ghost-white foundation giving him intense Morticia Addams vibes, contouring that made his cheekbones look absolutely unreal, bold black (or maybe really dark purple?) lipstick and shiny, smoky eyeshadow that made him look ethereal and wicked, with a daggerpoint cat-eye that she spent an hour begging him to teach her after the show. When he turned his head in a sharp, birdlike motion to look down his nose at the dancers playing the King and Queen, she gasped at the way his hair rippled down his back, shiny-black and woven with actual feathers that trailed back from the ornate metal circlet resting on his brow like a bird’s crest. The costume was breathtaking, too, a tightly corseted bodice and a high collar, a dramatically billowing skirt and trailing, feathered sleeves that flared like wings whenever he moved.

And the way he moved! Arlo’s dancing changed with every role, whatever he felt would suit the character. One of her favorites was always his Hans-Peter (she had a soft spot for that one, and had ever since she was little—one of the first Christmas gifts her stepmom had ever given her was little storybook version of The Nutcracker that came with a CD) because his dancing was so stiff and stridently mechanical, he looked like a real toy soldier come to life. But his villains moved with a slinking, predatory prowl she’d only ever seen in monster movies, and never in something like a ballet. His Carabosse was as beautiful as she was terrifying, and it was incredible to watch. She wanted to fling herself at him after the show and babble at him endlessly like she always did, but she spent a solid minute staring at him slack-jawed, until he shifted awkwardly and looked down, and the confident intimidation of the Wicked Fairy sloughed away to reveal Arlo underneath.

He almost melted into the floor with relief when she finally startled to babble.

She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and he takes a slow, deep breath, offering Felix a strained smile. “Take a closer look, mate,” he says quietly.

Felix does. He looks up and squints at Arlo, and then back down at the photo. Tina has to bite her lip so she doesn’t laugh when he looks over at Adam, still holding the magazine with that metal singer that kind of looks like Arlo on it, and then back at Arlo. His mouth drops open into a little o, and he shoots to his feet and shouts, “No way!”

Mason was allowed his name back briefly, but he goes right back to Broody One when he grimaces at Felix and slinks pettishly back to his corner.

Arlo’s shoulders are practically around his ears, but he tries to keep smiling. “Yeah. Sleeping Beauty. Fourth year. I was the Wicked Fairy.”

“He was amazing,” Tina declares, shoulders back and chin tipped up challengingly. “The costume was insane, but the way he played her was absolutely, ridiculously badass.”

“You look awesome!” Felix blurts, still gawking down at the photo. He flips to the next page, and squeaks happily when he finds more pictures, from different angles, showing off the costume, the way Arlo loomed over the other dancers, the way he commanded the stage. Tina should really find out who took the pictures and send them her thanks, because they really put in the work. “Your makeup, your dress, your hair! How’d you even do that?”

Arlo laughs, and it sounds so utterly relieved, Tina’s heart breaks a little. Arlo’s always been sensitive, and for someone who dresses and holds himself the way he does, he worries more than he lets on what people think of him. Especially people he cares about. She squeezes his shoulder again, and he bites his lip when he glances back at her and smiles hesitantly.

“A lot of wire, and enough hairspray to choke a bloody cow,” he says, twisting around and slinging his long legs over the coffee table so he can face the sofa. “I think we bought every bag of black feathers the craft store had, and then spent an entire weekend painting them with this stupidly expensive embossing powder. We had to get, like, ten pots of the stuff, because the craft store only had pots the size of a quarter.”

“I admire your dedication,” Nate says pleasantly, strolling over to peer over Arlo’s shoulder. They tighten just a bit before relaxing slowly. “That costuming is superb. I’ve seen professional productions that weren’t half so detailed.”

“That would be Viv’s work,” Arlo laughs, looking down at the pictures fondly. “She took whatever cheap garbage the department had for us, raided the nearest clearance fabric rack, and worked her magic. The employees at that little craft store loved and hated us in equal measure.”

Arlo is still tense, but he’s loosening up little by little, and with him Tina does too. The easy camaraderie is soothing, and she knows how much Arlo cares about his vampire friends, so it’s got to be a huge weight off his shoulders to be able to let his guard down around them. He deserves that. He deserves to be able to be himself.

Adam standing up draws Arlo’s attention like nothing else could, and he freezes like a startled rabbit again looking up at the burly blonde vampire as he approaches the sofa. He looks a split second from bolting. Tina sits up straighter and gives Adam her most daring look, squaring her shoulders to make it perfectly clear she's ready to fight the second he opens his mouth. She’ll definitely lose, sure, but she’ll make as much trouble as she can before she goes down.

He reaches out, his hand hesitating before it touches the album’s glossy page, and he looks up at Arlo with a questioning tilt to his brows. Arlo looks like he’s barely breathing, but he nods, and Adam slips one of the pictures from its sleeve. He straightens his spine, shoulders back, holding the photo and studying it carefully. His face is impossible to read, about as expressive as a bloody brick wall. Tina’s vibrating with nervous energy. She’ll fight a vampire, though. She will.

When Adam does finally speak, his voice comes out so softly Tina almost doesn’t hear it over the adrenaline rushing through her. “You look… striking.”

Striking. Oh my god.

She wants to laugh. They’re ridiculous.

“Thanks,” Arlo chokes out, his cheeks and ears going red this time.

Oh my god. Tina covers her mouth with both hands. Arlo glowers at her. It’s a lot less threatening when he’s blushing like that. “I didn’t say anything,” she mumbles against her palms.

“Your face,” he hisses, and she yelps.

“Oh! Shit!” She pulls her hands away, and he grabs her by the chin to check the damage with a click of his tongue.

Tina thought things would get better once Arlo actually kissed the man (and maybe got a leg over, but that’s only her business when she can finally get Arlo to actually talk about if the big, beefy Adonis is as missionary-with-the-lights-off as he looks) but at least they’re not just staring longingly at each other from across the room and then getting all sad about it anymore . Thankfully, Felix seems to be an old hand at clearing up the weird tension between the two of them, chiming in a delighted, “I’ve never seen you look so scary!” as he rifles through all the pictures from the Sleeping Beauty show. “I mean, you’re pretty scary when you go all furry, but also, you sort of just look like a big lanky puppy, because it’s just you, you know? This is someone else! Who is she! She's so cool!”

Arlo sighs and turns around to fix whatever Tina’s ruined with her foundation, and throws himself back into dolling her up. Thankfully, the actual festival’s not for a while yet. She complained about the unnecessarily early start when Arlo suggested the time, but now she’s glad he’s such a persnickety prick about scheduling. “I had a lot of fun with it,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders. “The original script notes said to get, y’know, sort of silly with it, but I wasn’t a big fan of that angle for a character like her. Yeah, I wanted to be campy, but not in the way…” He purses his lips. “Okay, well, Nate probably knows this, but a lot of classical ballets that have a female villains do this thing with them that I hate.” He frowns deeply, patting at Tina’s chin with gentle ferocity. “ An evil female character is supposed to be sort of… sort of a cautionary tale, I guess? Like your typical bitter spinster crone, the old hag, or the wicked stepsisters, things like that. So they’ll specifically cast a male dancer and put them in bright, gaudy facepaint and garish costumes that are supposed to be cartoonish and ugly, that you're supposed to find funny, to show you that this character is bad because she’s indelicate and mannish, and that’s why she’s evil.”

His mouth twists around the words, and he looks up, back at the vampires, leaving Tina a moment to really appreciate that Arlo’s comfortable enough with them to do what he’s only ever really done with her—which is ramble about something he’s passionate about. It’s always fun to watch. He turns back to her, and she just wishes his hands weren’t occupied, because he’s a big hand-talker otherwise. “I got the role because the professor thought it would be funny to stick me in a role like that, being so tall and, y’know,” he gestures vaguely to his faded old band tee and dark jeans, the thick leather cuff around his wrist. Tina doesn’t see what he really means, seeing as he looks cozy and content right now, but she gets what he’s going for. “He was expecting me to be awkward about it. The big, tough guy doing drag as the creepy crone caricature.” He huffs. “I talked with Demi about it, and we decided to say fuck that.” He sits up straighter, tilts up his chin, and looks down his nose at Tina.

She peers up at him, wide-eyed, and suddenly wonders if this is how Demi felt, playing Aurora when Carabosse looked down her nose at her like an insect under her heel.

“I thought Carabosse deserved better,” Arlo says fiercely. “If I was going to be a villain, I was going to be a damned good villain. I was going to tower over all the delicate, dainty little princesses and fairies, and I was going to be fierce. Professor Dacey wanted Aurora, and Candide, and Florine to be the epitome of sweet, delicate femininity, the ideal damsel in any classical show. Carabosse is supposed to be the complete opposite. You’re supposed to root against her, not want to be her. She’s a threat to the idea of womanhood, of the ideal feminine. She’s bold and selfish and she takes what she wants. I leaned into that. I even danced en pointe for parts of it, even though Carabosse isn't supposed to, and between the rehearsals and the actual performance, I thought my feet were gonna fall off, but it was worth it.”

Arlo smiles, and Tina is thrilled by the wickedness of it. She thinks she even sees just a hint of fang. Arlo’s been so careful about showing his teeth, ever since he told her what happened to him, why he disappeared for so long, so it's somehow special for him to feel like he can show her even a hint of what he’s become.

“Professor Dacey was pissed, afterwards, of course,” Arlo laughs, but there’s an edge to it. He seems to shrink. From Arlo to Carabosse to Arlo again. He looks down at his hands as they work on Tina more than at her face. “He didn’t, y’know, say anything he could have gotten fired over, but he did rail about being left out of planning and the budget and all that rot. Got even madder when Demi pointed out we’d spent our own money on the costumes. I think if he was tall enough to look down on me, he would have.” He snorts, a bitter curl to his mouth. Tina thinks of it painted bold, dark purple, thinks of how it would look with those teeth behind it. She wonders if he’d let her do his makeup for the festival. She’s not nearly as good at details as he is, but she’s no slouch either.

“You should have let me put raw fish in his hubcaps,” Tina mutters, just to make Arlo laugh. It works, and she beams at him.

“Would have been a waste of fish,” he mumbles, sucking his teeth. He finally picks up a bright eyeshadow palette and starts waffling over colors. He’s quiet while he deliberates, but after a while, he sighs. “I liked being Carabosse,” he says, like it’s a secret. Like he’s trying very hard not to be ashamed.

“I wish I could have seen it,” Adam says, almost dreamily. Tina could scream. “I— We could have, I mean. All of us. In solidarity.”

“Smooth,” Felix whispers.

“I’m sure it was a phenomenal performance,” Nate adds helpfully. He’s taken the album from Felix to flip through to some of Arlo’s other shows. “The passion you have for your characters shines through in just photos. It’s quite impressive.”

“You should have gone pro,” Tina mutters. “You’d be a household name by now.”

Arlo snorts and bops her with the brush. How many bops is that now? She’s certainly on a roll today. “And who’d keep you in line back here?” he teases.

Tina squints up at him and sticks out her tongue. “Like you’ve ever even tried to keep me in line, you big softie. You love the chaos, just admit it.”

“I’ll admit you to the hospital when you do something stupid and get yourself hurt again, how about that?”

They bicker like children back and forth while Arlo finishes her makeup, a wash of pink, purple, and blue eyeshadow and matching lipstick, overlaid with a lustrous sparkle to her cheekbones and a cute little black heart-shaped beauty mark under one eye. Felix gets a bi flag heart to match her eyeshadow around one eye, and then the rest is a sort of confetti splash of sparkly stars and hearts in every color. Even Nate goes for the bi eyeshadow (Bi-shadow? She should have been saying that this whole time!), making him, Tina, and Felix a matching set, and Mason consents to a very simple pan flag on his cheek. Tina suspects Adam only allows the eyeshadow treatment so he can have Arlo cup his face all tenderly, but she keeps the thought (mostly) to herself. He looks good in pastels, she thinks when she sees the finished blue, pink, and white.

Arlo draws a little heart under his eye too. The heart in Tina's chest almost explodes with warmth.

And then Arlo disappears into the bathroom, leaving the rest of them to entertain themselves while he gets ready on his own. They go through the album some more, and Tina tells them all about her favorite shows, because she went to every single one she could manage, and got Arlo’s school friends to send her videos of the ones she couldn’t. Tina Poname is Arlo Priestley’s number one fan, and that will never change. Not even now that she's got some competition.

When Arlo comes out of the bathroom, they all look up in sync, and he stands there, shifting anxiously from foot to foot under the attention, and lifts his hands in a stilted shrug. “So?” he asks, smiling nervously. He’s changed clothes, too. Tight pants, big boots, a mesh-sleeved black shirt underneath his patch-and-pin-covered denim vest. His wrists jingle with chunky bracelets, and his hair is braided neatly over one shoulder. But his makeup is what really steals the show. That insanely sharp cat-eye, of course, but one eye is done up in blue, pink, and white, and the other in yellow, white, purple, and black. He smiles timidly. “I, uh, I couldn’t really decide on just one,” he says, sticking his gloved hands into the pockets of his vest. “I’m, um, I’m not sure which one’s really right for me yet, I guess?” He shrugs again, and Tina watches delightedly as Adam stands up slowly, his eyes on Arlo with such an awed intensity she wonders if he even remembers there’s other people in the room. Arlo keeps babbling as he approaches, the words tumbling nervously from his black-painted lips. “I sort of like matching with you, Adam, and I know they’re both fine, but I—”

Adam grabs him by the lapels of his jacket, yanks him down to his level, and silences him with a kiss. Tina throws her arms up in the air with an impulsive shriek of “WOO!” that Felix echoes even louder. They high-five over Mason’s head, and he looks like he wants to throw them both out the window. Nate sits by with a pleasant little smile, which only fades when he takes note of the clock.

Adam and Arlo are still kissing, Arlo’s hands cupped around the vampire’s cheeks and Adam clinging to his vest like he'll drown if he lets go. Tina thinks she might see a hint of tongue when Nate loudly clears his throat.

They break apart with an indecent smacking noise, and Tina yelps out a sharp laugh when she sees Arlo’s black lipstick smeared all around Adam’s mouth.

Nate crosses his arms and smiles dryly at them. “Why don’t you two go fix your faces,” he suggests. “The rest of us will make sure the car is packed for the festival.”

“Um, yes. You— We—” Arlo fumbles for a bit, touching his smeared lips, his eyes just a bit dazed. He and Adam look at each other, and then flee for the bathroom together.

Tina’s never been more excited for a festival in her life.

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhavensummer #pride in wayhaven #tina poname #adam du mortain #a du mortain #felix hauville #f hauville #specialist agent mason #specialist agent m #nate sewell #n sewell #oc: arlo priestley #pidge writes #HELLO I AM FINISHING THIS AT 3:30 AM #I HAVE MY FIRST DAY OF MY NEW JOB TOMORROW #WISH ME LUCK #this turned out WAY longer than i meant it to but god was it fun #i hope you guys like it as much as i liked writing it #arlo playin w gender expression via ballet is my everything #the costume designs for carabosse can be SO GOOD #but some of them are SO BAD #ballet is like that #its very uuuuh traditional wrt its aesthetics and gender roles #and arlo and his friends were all like 'but what if not'#anyway title is v last minute bc *shrug*#tina gets to be the lilac fairy #i did so much reserach into this ballet y'all #the only thing i didnt do was watch the whole thing #tho i DID find it on yt so i could later....

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emilycollins00 · 3 years

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Two faces of the same coin

Pairing: Tenma x ghost-looking! reader Part 1.

Hey! I had this awesome ask from sadly ages ago which I appreciated a lot bc honestly, just the fact that someone sent such a detailed thing?? My heart.

Request: (...) Tenma finds someone who looks like they got out straight from a horror movie- They could literally pass as a ghost anytime of the day! But once he talks to them they are just an extremely chill introvert, and actually really thoughtful and considerate? (...) So yeah, imagine Tenma who once was shitting his pants whenever that person was around slowly starting to enjoy their presence and even better: fall for them.

Enjoy! 💕

Classic horror icons and other disturbing creatures share common characteristics, pale skin, dark, sunken eyes, hunched posture, sharp teeth, and the like. These images inspire fear and revulsion in many with good reason. And while Tenma would insist he was okay with them- he really was and Yuki should really just shut up- he wouldn’t go out of his way to watch or read about that specific genre. And he was okay with that.

“A ghost in the school?”

He tried to not sound as worried as he internally felt, his brain still processing what Taichi was talking about while waiting for their drinks to drop. The redhead nodded unaware, eyes fixed on the vending machine “Yeah! You haven’t heard about it before?”

“W-why should I? It’s stupid to think paranormal stuff like ghosts exists anyway.”

With a clank, both drinks finally fell. Taichi crouched down to retrieve them humming happily, handing one of them to the summer troupe leader and keeping one for himself.

“I don’t know man, it’s kind of cool!” he crossed his arms behind his head, resuming their walk and looked behind. “What about you, Juza-san? You seen anything?”

The purple-haired boy considered it lazily, but ultimately shook his head. He didn’t seem too interested in the conversation anyway, and Tenma was pretty sure the main thoughts running through his head were today’s melon bread from the cafeteria.

It had been a while since their Ouka-high group had been able to have lunch together.

“Did you see? That Sumeragi Tenma is back!”

“Gosh, he looks so handsome!”

“Wait- don’t push me!”

“I heard he’s going to be a possible cast in that famous saga-”

“Are you serious?”

Whispers and tiny squeals kept circling them as soon as they entered the boundaries of the canteen. And while Tenma barely notices it at first, he can definitely see Juza’s stance going more rigid and Taichi’s eyes glowing at the attention received.

“I’ll go get our lunch” the golden-eyed teen announces heading towards the queue, hands buried in his pockets. He motioned Tenma with his chin. “You wanted set B right, no carrots.”

“Uh? Well yeah, but I can-”

“S’okay, you two go find some seats” he shrugged, looking around. There weren’t many spaces to start with and he’d honestly prefer focus on the food rather than the stares. “It’d be difficult to keep ‘em free with just one person anyway.”

“Roger! Come on Ten-chan, let’s go!”

“Aw, man. Everyone has their eyes on you as usual!” Taichi looked around, still indulging himself with all the people that were staring at them, some more blatantly than others.

How he didn’t get bored of mentioning it every time Tenma didn’t know, though he was low-key grateful. Not many people enjoyed being part of those types of reactions from a crowd- Juza for example-. When they finally managed to find some empty seats, Taichi placed his own bento on the table visibly excited. Tenma frowned.

“Since when did you start preparing lunch by yourself?”

“Ah, this?” the redhead laughed proudly at his confused look “See, I’ve been practicing my cooking skills! Tsuzuru has been super cool teaching me how to prepare some dishes for my siblings- plus, I’m sure I’ll get the attention of girls if they see my new talent!”

“Right…”

Tenma couldn’t decide whether he should make a comment as he took a long, thoughtful sip from his own juice can. Taichi’s lunch was a side of string cheese, a broken omelet, and some semi-burnt rice and it just didn’t seem very tempting.

He ultimately chose to leave it aside. Omi would surely know soon enough.

“So, uh, Taichi.”

“Yeah?”

He coughed, leaving aside the can and resting his back on the chair nonchalantly. “N-not that I care about that rumor, but- where is that ghost supposed to be?”

“Ah, the one we talked about? Mmm…” the autumn member caressed his chin, closing his eyes in deep thought. “No one really knows. It’s been spotted in pretty much all parts of the school” Tenma’s stomach sank at that. “But I’ve heard it likes room 1001 for some reason, you know, from the old side of the school? No one really uses it anymore- guess it makes sense!”

The redhead took again the chopsticks and started digging on the rice carefree.

“R-right.”

Tenma shook his head. Cool. Great. Now he knew which side of the school he would never even try to approach at least.

“Tenma-kun!” a female voice, not familiar, made him jolt from his seat. When he looked up a girl followed by two others were are already making themselves comfortable on the chairs next to them- one of them even deciding to sit on the table. “Hi there!”

Third years.

"Hi” he repeated.

“We saw your appearance in that new series, it was unbelievable!”

“Are you going to be a recurring character there? I’d love if you could ask one of the leads to sign a shirt of mine!”

He simply showered them a practiced smile. He could already tell what type of fans they were. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary- people approaching him about his shows or to ask for favors- and honestly, it was better not entering in that dangerous territory. “Thanks. Nothing’s been said yet, that’d depend on the company. I’ll be counting on your future support.”

They instantly beamed at his reaction. “Of course!”

One of them clapped her hand together “That reminds me, when is your next performance in that theatre company you play? I so want to go see it again!”

“Ah, that will take a while. We just finished a month ago so next up is the autumn troupe” he motioned Taichi with his head, a proud, real smile featuring his face this time “These guys have been going all out, you won’t be disappointed.”

“O-of course!” the shortest Ouka high student practically jumped into the conversation. “If you all want, we could ask for a few tickets from our-!“

“But Tenma-kun is not in that troupe, right?” the girls looked at each other confused. As if it wouldn’t be something it’d cross their minds to do, had the child actor not participated before.

“W-well, no but…”

“Plus, the summer troupe is hilarious! I kinda prefer those types of performances, you know?”

“I totally get you!”

From his peripheral vision, Tenma could register Taichi’s face growing red- a strained smile before sitting back on his seat, not trying to add anything to the conversation anymore.

Smile. Remember to smile.

“…We all give our all on those performances, I don’t think it’s fair if you have just watched the summer troupe. You’ll definitely enjoy it if you give them the chance.”

“Really?”

“I mean… If Tenma-kun says so maybe we could go take a look.” one of them gave a chuckle, playing with their hair. “You think we could ask you to get us some tickets for-?”

“If you are not eatin’ you should leave.”

“Uh? Can’t you see we’re-” the sentence died in their lips as soon as they turned and encountered Juza. Not that he himself was proud of his reputation, but during these situations at the very least it paid to see they knew who he was.

“Move.”

The resulting glare was terrifying in its intensity, and the retreat took no longer than a few seconds. No one mentioned anything afterward- Juza’s calm and blank expression coming back as he sat down, handing the summer leader his lunch and squinting down at Taichi’s.

“What the hell are you eatin’.”

“Hehe it caught your attention too, right? You see…”

Tenma observed them. They were acting as if nothing had happened. Not so long ago people tended to stay away from him for those same reasons, so it still took him a few seconds to find the words again- For feeling this relieved at their reactions.

He left the chopsticks aside. “Sorry this... keeps happening."

They momentarily stopped the conversation, sharing a silent look before turning to the teen actor facing the table in awkwardness.

“I-It’s okay, Ten-chan! They would obviously be more interested in watching you than an unknown performance” Taichi laughs and scratches the back of his hair. He seemed to be fine- a bit uncomfortable, but fine. “Besides, that just means we have to work even harder to be recognized, right, Juza-san!”

“Yeah, don’t get stuck thinkin’ ‘bout it. We ain’t losin’ any time soon.”

“Anyway Juza-san, are you sure you’re okay with only melon bread and pudding for lunch? I can give you some of mine!”

Juza didn’t verbally answer Taichi’s offer, merely staring at the burnt rice being held in front of him with skepticism “…nah. I’m okay.”

Taichi frowned at his own food, tilting his head confused. A few seconds later, he gave it an ultimate shrug before going for one more bite, Juza doing the same with his own lunch. Tenma scoffed at the view, trying not to smile amusedly. The autumn troupe really was made out of beasts.

“If Sakyo-san saw what you two are eating he’d skin you alive, you know.”

“Why.”

“What do you mean why, Juza-san you can’t expect-“

"Ah, that reminds me!” Taichi suddenly rambled, mouth full of rice “We should totally go to the arcade before we head up to the dorm. I heard they have these new games that are supposed to be super exclusive!”

Tenma winced “Can’t. I have a meeting with my homeroom teacher after classes.”

The other two replied with a similar expression.

“I almost forgot you came from a big shootin’ and all. We’ve been seein' you in the dorm pretty much everyday.”

“Yeah! Geez I always say I envy you, but dealing with that after working must suck!”

“You tell me…”

Taichi shook his head, giving him both thumbs up “It’s okay, we can go another time. Good luck though!”

“You can sit here. I’ll go bring your work in a second and then we’ll talk.”

With a lazy look on his face, Tenma caught a glimpse of his own reflection from a trophy case- one of the few resting at the entrance of the teacher’s lounge. He had never paid attention to them before; Second prize in a football tournament, first prize in some races and a few diplomas regarding different competitions, nothing too special. Ouka high had never had the best score regarding academics, which is exactly why he was able to enter.

Igawa liked to insist it wasn’t entirely Tenma’s fault he had so many troubles keeping up with schoolwork though- well, not more than the usual of not being good at studying. No one actually knew how hard celebrity kids had to push themselves- at least that’s what his parent had said. On the other hand, they hadn’t really cared much more, so long the school allowed him to be flexible with his schedules.

School time was usually done while moving sets and camera changes. He and other kids and teens were at different levels of schooling most of the time, so the teacher was forced to divide their time. Honestly, one would be lucky to get 30 minutes of full tutoring.

Anyway, it was rotten work and even Tenma knew it. He also knew what his homeroom teacher thought about it, which is exactly why he couldn’t help himself raising his eyebrows concerned as he saw the pile of papers being drop over the desk.

“Is this a joke?”

“I know you’re busy, but there’s a minimum to do keep up with your classes and… general results.” the old man frowned scratching his grey four-days old beard. He clicked here and there at the computer, probably revising the latest results of the tests they had done.

He then leaned back on his chair, trying to find a comfortable position before his wrinkly eyes turned to him again. “I wish I could think of another way, but you are getting quite behind everyone, Sumeragi-kun. We’re worried.”

Well, it was not his fault he couldn’t remember all the information they gave him like a script. Was it really the solution giving him the same amount of work as his classmates with half the time?

Before he could open his mouth to complain, the man placed his hand on Tenma’s shoulder. It felt heavy. “I already talked with your manager. It seems you’ll be having a break for a month and a half just before finals and I’d like to help you. We can’t have one of the biggest faces of the school repeating a year, can we?”

Tenma’s jaw clenched. Of course, everything was always for Sumeragi Tenma the actor. Student Tenma could go drown himself.

“Here you’ll find some reinforcement materials I think will be good for you to do in school. Less time wasted while moving and I’ll be here in case you have any questions.”

His face twitched. That would mean he wouldn’t be able to ask for Tsumugi’s help or any of the adults back in Mankai. “I actually-”

“Suguro-sensei, Someone’s calling for you about tomorrow’s meeting!”

“Is it that time already... I’ll be right there in a second! In any case, I would suggest you go work on the library Sumeragi-kun.” the man got up, finishing that way their conversation. “It should be quiet enough, but if you see any students being too loud, give them a call.”

Tenma side-glanced again at his workload, groaning internally.

Just about his luck.

Twenty minutes walking.

How could such a big school not have a single sign to indicate where things were?

Squinting his eyes, Tenma looked both ways across the hall annoyed, his already short temper from before increasing. He was sure the library was two turns to the right, then left, and then up the stairs from the teachers’ lounge.

...or maybe it was a floor down now that he thought about it. Damn it. It wasn’t as if he had ever stepped inside that place, shouldn’t they make it more accessible for everyone?

“This sucks…”

It had been a while since he had seen other students or even teachers around, which also made him feel uneasy. He glanced down at the paperwork in his arms, gripping it tighter. He hoped no one would see him walking around like this.

Just where was the stupid library?

It wasn’t until Tenma decided to try entering inside any room that would allow him to work, that he found many were strangely closed. He was about to gave up when he finally saw the dusty word ‘library’ at the end of the corridor. Finally. With effort he managed to open the heavy door, immediately pinching his nose.

“Ugh, stinks.”

The person in charge of cleaning the school really did a worse job than Matsukawa- at least the man cleaned from time to time and organized stuff. The place was an absolute mess; boxes over the floor, piles of books on chairs and shelves full of documents and other various things he didn’t quite distinguish.

Leaving everything on the closest table Tenma sighed when he felt his arms relaxing without the weight. Frowning, he walked around the place, smelling a mix of dirt and old- even some shelves were full of dust. Really, how did a school like this had such a gross place to study? No wonder students didn’t try to come here.

He should have asked for permission to take his work back to Mankai. Less danger of someone noticing he was behind his studies and it becoming a gossip- or worse, finding he had been walking without an absolute clue for the last half hour.

Yeah, he had more options to pass the year with Tsumugi’s help rather than on his own. Just looking at the amount of work he had he was sure it’d-

The faint sound of walking steps brought him back from his thoughts freezing him on the spot- all his breath trapped. He hadn’t heard anyone since he entered, but it shouldn't be surprising to find others studying.

I’ve heard it likes room 1001 for some reason, you know, from the old side of the school? No one really uses it anymore- guess it makes sense!

Or it was probably the wind. The wind tends to make noises, Tenma reminded himself while swallowing with difficulty.

Was the air suddenly thick?

Crack!

He strained to hear, his heart pounding loudly. “I-Is anyone there?” the nerves made his voice come out higher than he had hoped.

More cracks and sounds of steps. He couldn't see anything yet.

His stomach turned as his breath became louder. This wasn't happening. Yup! It was his imagination. What was happening could not be real, because ghosts didn’t exist. “I-I’m not afraid, you know?!” he shouted, positioning himself on a fighting stance while carefully moving backward.

That’s right- Tenma wasn’t scared. He had just rested enough, with or without a ghost in the room, and it was about time to leave. Ignoring his sweaty palms and nodding once more to nothing in particular, he turned around at the same time a pair of eyes made contact with his.

The figure opened its mouth.

And Tenma proceeded to absolutely destroy his throat.

_________________________________________________

This took so long though I’m not even sure If they are around. If you are love, I apologize! I found a few walls writing-wise. So not entirely to say I made it longer to make up for it but on the other hand... maybe. Thank you so much for sending such a nice idea so I was able to make this, really hope you like it. 💕

I promise this is a reader insert lol thank you for reading!

Part 2 soon!

#tenma sumeragi #a3 game #a3 tenma #a3! tenma #reader x a3 #a3! x reader #tenma x reader #a3 actor training game #reader insert #a3! taichi #a3! juza

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch6: That Makes Two Of Us

Summary: Things heat up between Katie and Steve as their relationship progresses, but when Tony caches them out, he’s on the war path.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad Language, Smut (dry humping, oral- male receiving) NSFW, 18+. and a VERY angry Big Brother...

A/N: One of my favourite chapters. Thank you to @angrybirdcr , its a pleasure to have your edits for the repostings!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 5

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

End of May 2013

“For the one hundredth time, no, Tony I am NOT coming.” Katie groaned as she pulled up outside Steve’s apartment building “I have work to do.” “But the damned meeting is in DC!” Tony protested “Surely you can manage to spare an hour! You’re part of the board!” “You know full well that’s only to make sure that Starks maintain a controlling stake!”

“So basically what you’re saying is that you don’t care about our business.” Her brother’s voice took on a petulant tone. He could be such a child at times. “Stop being a dick.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “Look, I’m busy with work, I can’t just drop everything you know just because you-” “Have you got a man on the go?” Tony asked suddenly, cutting her off “Because I’ve not seen you for weeks. Do I need to prep a Shovel Talk?” “Goodbye, Tony.” Katie cancelled the call before she stepped out of the car and headed to the lobby door.

In his apartment Steve was reading a proposal and groaning to himself. They wanted him to record videos to talk to high school kids about puberty, keeping fit, being in detention, not doing drugs…and he had agreed, just to shut them up mainly, but he was already regretting his decision. With a final wrinkle of his nose, he threw down the document he was looking at and was about to make himself a coffee when the buzzer to his apartment went off.

“Hey, Handsome.” Katie’s voice rang over the intercom and he smiled just as he always did when she called him that, a habit she’d slipped easily into over the last three weeks of dating, which had consisted of early morning breakfast meets on their way into work, stolen lunchtimes away from the office where they could hold hands with a slice or a burrito as they walked around the Mal, three more intimate evening meals at quiet restaurants and one trip to the cinema. That had been Steve’s favourite date so far, not just because it had been his first time in a movie theatre since the 40s, but more so that he he’d enjoyed the feel of her as she leaned into him when he’d put his arm round the back of her chair, sharing popcorn, stolen quick kisses on the lips in the dark as they sat on the back row in between their bursts of hysterical laughter at the film. They had gone to see the third and final instalment of the Hangover trilogy, which Katie had been ridiculously excited about. She loved those films and Steve had to admit he agreed they were pretty good, as all three had made him laugh in places until tears rolled down his face. Movie and TV nights in their apartments had also turned into something special too as they snuggled down together, sharing snacks and personal space along with deep kisses that left him wanting a lot more… “Hey Sweetheart, come on up.”

He waited for her by the door and felt his breath catch as she emerged onto the landing from the stairs. She was wearing a blue and white LA Dodgers T-shirt, which was tight and finished just above her hips and clung to her chest flashing a strip of her toned stomach, tight grey jeans which fit snug to her ass and black baseball boots. Steve had seen her in all sorts of clothing items- jeans, tops, dresses…but never like this.

And fuck, she looked hot.

“Hi!” She greeted him with a huge smile and a gentle kiss, standing on her toes to meet his lips, before she stepped into the apartment and headed into the living room. Spotting the file on the coffee table she picked it up.

“What’s this?” She asked, opening it.

“A proposal from Fury. I’m going to be doing some videos, for high school kids..phys-ed classes that kinda thing.” “Videos?” “Yeah, apparently they get Celebrities to do them normally but they thought they’d use me this time.” Steve shrugged. “You’re not some kind of performing monkey they can trot out when they want.” She winkled her nose in distaste as she remembered those awful USO videos as she thumbed through the file.

Steve smiled at her indignation on his behalf. “It’s only a couple of videos.” he assured her.

“Hmm.” she dropped the file with disdain onto the table “Anyway, enough about that. You busy?” “When it comes to spending time with you? Never.”

“Oh that was smooth, Captain Badass!” She smirked and he gave her a quick shrug and a smile.

“What you got in mind?”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat she pulled out what looked like two tickets from her back pocket and suddenly it became apparent why she was dressed as she was.

“Are we…no, you’re kidding?” Steve couldn’t help the childish grin which flickered across his face “Baseball?” *****

“Oh what?” Katie cried out, jumping to her feet as the umpire made an atrocious decision for what felt like the 100th time, turning to Steve in disgust. “Is this guy blind or just really fucking dumb?”

Steve let out a snort, leaning back in his seat with his hand gesturing to the field. “Blind, he has to be. No one can be that stupid. I mean he’s been calling bad ones all game.”

Katie angrily dropped to her chair and Steve gestured to the vendor for two more beers. He passed one to Katie who hesitated as she took it.

“I bought the car.” She said, looking at him.

“Sweetheart,” he leaned over, kissing her cheek, “ridiculously fast metabolism, remember? I can’t get drunk. I’ll drive home…”

He handed over his money, waved away the little bit of change he would have received before he turned back to his girl who was pouting at him.

“The last time you drove Rainey you didn’t respect her. You drove her through a fuck tonne of puddles.”

“Doll, it’s a…”

“Er, she.” Katie looked at him. “She is not an it…”

Steve rolled his eyes. She was ridiculously attached to her Range Rover. He had to admit, as far as cars went it was pretty damned nice both to be driven in and to drive. White with black wheels and windows, and every gadget in it known to man. Mind you, he expected nothing else from the Starks.

“Ok, she is a damned four by four…” He raised an eyebrow for her. “They’re supposed to go off roading, so what’s a few puddles?”

“Off roading?” Katie spluttered, her eyes wide. “No! You’re so not driving her ever again.”

“Fine I’ll drink both of these then.” He shrugged, moving to take the beer he’d handed her back, and she moved it out of his reach, glaring at him. The desire to drink and have fun won out over protecting her car from a haphazard Captain who was on the sly a bit of a speed demon and probably never actually completed any kind of driving lesson in his life, let alone a test. She dug into her pocket and handed over her keys.

“One scratch and you’re a dead man.” She narrowed her eyes playfully.

“I’ll take good care of her.” He said solemnly, putting the keys into his pocket.

As the game progressed, despite his protestations that the LA Dodgers just weren’t his team, he found himself rooting for them and he was getting more and more frustrated at the current batters method. The guy was swinging it around with more force than Thor wielded his hammer and it wasn’t working. But just as Steve was about to let out another cry of frustration, the bat suddenly connected with the ball, and it was a good hit. Both Steve and Katie got to their feet shouting for the players to speed up and go for home. When they made it the pair both let out a loud cheer, and Steve hugged Katie, grinning wildly. At that moment, stood there, surrounded by strangers but with the girl who made him feel so grounded, he had never felt so normal since coming out of the ice, and he loved it.

The rest of the innings passed far too fast, but at the end of the game, the Dodgers won, much to Katie’s delight. They joined the throng of people streaming out of the stadium hand in hand and Steve, still grinning like an idiot felt Katie tug on his hand.

“Shall we head for a drink?” She asked as he looked at her.

He nodded, tilting the peak of her cap back slightly and giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Sounds great.” And it was a great idea. Until they parked up, walked into the sports bar and spotted half of STRIKE in there round a table.

“Turn around.” Katie hissed with a groan and, just as they were about to do so, Rumlow yelled from the bar.

“Hey Cap, Nova…”

“Too late.” Steve muttered as Katie rolled her eyes and turned round.

“Fancy seeing you here!” Rumlow smiled and Katie shrugged.

“Yeah, small world, huh?”

“You want a beer, Cap?” Rumlow gestured to the bar and Steve nodded.

“Sure, thanks.”

“Stark, what do you…woah, what is this shit?” Rumlow pointed at her shirt and it didn’t escape Steve’s notice that the man’s gaze was lingering far too long on her boobs. He took a deep inhale, his fists clenching in his pockets as Katie let out a scoff.

“This shit just kicked the Nationals asses!” she responded, jabbing Rumlow in his chest.

“Whatever man!” Rumlow shook his head. “Fucking Dodgers…” They didn’t have much option then but to join the rest of the team. Rumlow took the opportunity to eyeball Katie at every given opportunity and it was really starting to piss Steve off. At one time Katie looked up and caught Steve simply glaring at Rumlow, and in an attempt to keep him calm she gently squeezed his knee under the table. Steve was glad when it was his round, giving him an excuse to leave the table, Evans following to give him a hand.

“Enjoy your date?” Thee ginger haired man looked at Steve with a smirk.

“What?” Steve replied, a little too quickly. “I saw you and Stark kissing.” Evans popped a shoulder. “Outside the stadium. Don’t worry, no one else did.” Steve let out a sigh. It wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong, but he knew that Tony didn’t know yet and the pair of them were simply enjoying the early stages of a new relationship on their own before the inevitable tornado of interest hit once they did go public. Glancing at Katie who was talking to Rollins and Rumlow at their table, he turned back to Evans and dropped his voice slightly.

“We’re not deliberately keeping it from everyone, it’s just early days, don’t want everyone sticking their noses in, get what I’m sayin’?” “Secret’s safe with me.” Evans nodded. “Although I suspect it won’t be a secret for much longer if Rumlow keeps eye fucking your girl.”

Steve let out a snort as he took his change from the bar tender. “He’s a pain in the ass.” “Yeah well do me a favour, Cap.” Evans chuckled, picking up three of the glasses “When you do eventually snap and beat on him, make sure I’m there. Been waiting for someone to smack the shit outta him for years.”

****

Later that evening the coffee table at Katie’s apartment sported a number of empty plates, which had previously contained several frozen pizzas, and a good quantity of empty beer bottles. Katie was happily snuggled under Steve’s arm, curled against him and he was enjoying the closeness and comfortable silence that had fallen over them as they watched another ‘Game of Thrones’ episode. Katie had gotten him hooked on the fantasy programme and promised not to watch any of the latest season until he had caught up on the last two. As the episode finished he felt her stir and he didn’t want her to move, thankfully she didn’t too far, simply shifting her head slightly.

“So I never asked if you enjoyed yourself” She asked, looking up at him.

“Doll, it was amazing. Thank you.” “We should go more often” She mused “I haven’t seen a game live in years but I really enjoyed it.”

“You know what I didn’t enjoy?” He looked down at her, the soft light from the lamp illuminating her pretty face, highlighting the freckles spattered across her nose. “Sitting in that bar with Rumlow watching him looking at you.”

“Aww were you jealous?” She teased, sitting up.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he recalled what Evans had said at the bar “Just don’t appreciate him eye fucking my girl.”

She let out a large snort before she looked at him, as her brain registered what he had just said.

“Your girl?” Her tone was teasing but the look in her eyes told him she was anything but, in fact she looked almost nervous. “Is that what I am?”

Steve hesitated, realising that he’d never actually asked her that question before. Was three weeks too soon? He had no idea. To him it wasn’t, he’d been waiting to be able to call her his for months now, but was he outside of modern day dating etiquette?

He looked at her and took a deep breath, before he swallowed and spoke quietly, the nerves making his stomach flip slightly. “Well I’m kinda hoping you wannabe. I mean, if it’s not too soon.”

“It’s not too soon, it’s not too soon at all.” She whispered as she looked back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light of the lamp. “Stevie, I already am.”

And that was it, his lips crashed onto hers and he was kissing her like he’d been wanting to kiss her all day, his arm curling tighter round her, pulling her close. Katie took the initiative, every inch of her body was on fire for him, and she wrapped her arms round his neck and pulled him down as she fell slowly backwards, sinking into the couch. The movement came as a not-entirely unwelcome surprise to Steve and he didn’t resist. Automatically his hands crept to her hips, settling just under the hem of her top as she placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw. She broke away this time to breathe, head laying back on the arm of the couch and he dropped his head, pausing his lips inches from her neck.

“Can I kiss you here?” He whispered softly. .

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. He gripped her hips again and they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him and they she let out a soft moan at the feeling of his crotch bumping against hers. At the noise Steve pulled back to stare at her again, almost as if he was needing her permission to carry on. Katie wordlessly answered by tilting her hips up again, causing him to give a little grunt as she did so, before he took a deep breath and swallowed.

“Doll, I don’t want to rush you or do anything-”

“It’s okay Steve,” Her voice was low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She wanted this, more than she’d wanted anything before. She pushed her head upwards, lips pressing back to his and her hands slid under his t- shirt. His muscles twitched at her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. At that point, something snapped inside him and he let out a growl and Katie paused, hands still on his stomach.

“Did you just growl at me?” Her eyes flashed, dark, a smirk on her face. She was enjoying the effect she had on him, and right now so was he.

“Yeah.” he nodded, simply.

Her smirk grew wider as she grasped the bottom of his T-shirt. He held his arms up so she pull it over his head, and once he was free, he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest.

She’d never seen him topless before and she was momentarily stunned. She let her hands wander, tracing the lines of the flowing muscles and Steve let out another groan wanting to feel her skin against his. He interrupted her hands exploration by gripping her top and looked back at her, ever questioning. As means of an answer she moved her arms and sat up slightly to allow him to yank it up and off, her hair falling around her shoulders, his lips catching hers as he gently slipped one strap of her bra down at a time placing a soft kiss on each of her shoulders. Her breasts spilled over the tops of the lace lined cups and his groin twitched, the crotch of his jeans now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he obliged, boy did he oblige. Gently at first, softly squeezing and kneading the soft flesh and white lace, before his hand slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin bumped against hers.

Katie could feel the fabric of her underwear sliding in her jeans with every thrust of his hips against hers, that’s how wet she was. Steve was rocking hard against her and she buried her fingers in his hair, pulling sharply, forcing his head back, almost violently. As she tugged he let out another low growl and when she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking as she watched him, his pupils blown so wide there was hardly any blue left.

The rhythm of his hips was growing more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate. “More,” she moaned into his mouth, and he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. This was a first for him, rutting up against someone fully clothed. Making out, Bucky had called it, but none of Steve’s bedroom experiences had ever entailed anything like this, and God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him.

He started to lose his rhythm and he let out another groan as the tell-tale tightening across his lower stomach warned him he was fast approaching his release. This was too soon, he needed to get her there first. Clenching his teeth he desperately fought back the high as he pushed his hips down hard, making her gasp and claw at his back.

“Sweetheart, I’m close.” He breathed. “You almost there? Tell me your close baby, please?”

He needn’t have worried, at his words it was all she could do to moan brokenly and nod and his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more thrusts of his hips against hers and she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair as the lights exploded in front her eyes and she felt the coil in her stomach unravelling as she came hard underneath him, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life. Her name for him, the name that no-one in this day and age called him other than her, tumbled from her lips and seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy. He fell forward, his arms shaking as he fought to keep his body up, not wanting to crush her under his weight. His head dropped forward, as he lowered himself ever so gently onto his elbows, his face pressing into the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair as they both breathed deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies. Eventually both of them evened out and he raised his head to look at her, to find her smirking a little, her eyes twinkling with what looked like humour.

“What?” He managed to ask, his nose sliding against hers.

“I haven’t dry humped since I was about sixteen.” she said closing her eyes again with a smirk.

“Dry humped?” He snorted. “What-“

She laughed “Dry humping, making out, whatever. It’s been a while, Rogers.”

He felt himself chuckle again and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one of her hands running up and down his spine causing the muscles to gently twitch at her touch, neither of them in a hurry to move, but Steve’s arms were starting to hurt.

“You ok?” Katie looked at him, seeing the tension in his muscles and he nodded.

“Yeah, just, my arms.”

“Lay down.” Her hands moved to his biceps, gently trailing shapes on his skin.

“Doll, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m not made of glass, handsome. I promise you, it’ll be fine.”

Steve licked his lips and with a deep breath he lowered himself down gently, shifting and moving lower, pressing as little of himself to her as he could, despite the fact he could have happily smothered her to feel her body pressed against this. He closed his eyes and lay his head gently on her chest as she carded one hand through his hair, the other softly trailing down his neck and across his shoulders. Her touch was soothing, relaxing, loving even, and h felt himself beginning to doze off.

Katie was also growing sleepy, so she gently kissed his head and whispered a single word to him.

“Stay?”

It was a question to him, an invitation to stay with her that she was desperately hoping he’d take up.

He opened his eyes to blink lazily up at her. “Do you want me to?” he asked, his voice thick.

She nodded, “Let’s go to bed.”

He made to stand before he remembered his trouser predicament having just shot his load into them like a pubescent teenager and stilled, his cheeks flushing even more.

“I uh…I think I need to…”

“There’s some stuff of Tony’s in the spare room.” she said, looking at him cutting him off knowing exactly what the problem was because she was also in need of a clean-up “Should be a pair of sweats in there. Might be a bit short on you but…”

With another soft kiss, he pushed himself up off the couch before offering her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up, a little more forcefully than he had intended and she fell forwards, crashing into his chest.

“Steady on Soldier.” She grinned and he apologised, dropping a kiss to her forehead as his gaze once more dropped to her chest. With a certain glint in her eye she turned around, undid her bra and slipped it off before bending over in front of him, picking up his T-shirt from where she’d tossed it to the floor before heading over to the stairs.

Steve was hard again like it had never left.

After he had cleaned himself up and managed to calm himself down, he thrown on a pair of Tony’s sweatpants retrieved from the spare room and exited the main bathroom, heading to her room. She wasn’t asleep as he found out as he settled down in the bed next to her, and she moved to rest her head on his bare chest tangling her legs into his as his hand stroked her back, gently underneath his T’shirt, light fingers brushing her soft skin.

“This is mine…” He teased with a yawn as he tugged at the bottom of his shirt and she moved laying a soft kiss onto his lips.

“You can have it back tomorrow.” She said, laying her head back down on his chest. As her breathing grew even he felt himself start to drift off too, the warm feeling in his chest made him want to burst with happiness.

*****

When Steve woke the next morning it was peacefully. Katie had shifted positions through the night and now her back was to him pressed as close as she could get, he still had his arms around her, his face buried in her hair. She smelt so familiar and comfortable. As his sleepy brain reminded him of the previous night he smiled and felt a familiar twitch. He was hard, again, which wasn’t uncommon when waking up, but suddenly he felt her stir, and then he realised with horror that she was going to feel him poking her in the back.

It took Katie a few seconds to recall the night before, but when she felt a solid, warm wall of muscle pressed against her, a small hum of contentment rumbled in her throat as she pushed back further into him. They both lay there for a moment, silently, basking in the warmth and softness of each other before Katie turned over and looked up at him. Her face was devoid of any make up, not that she wore a lot anyway, but her freckles were more pronounced, clear skin was bright, cheeks flushed and her hair was tousled in waves around her shoulders. He reached out to tuck a long strand that had fallen over her cheek behind her ears, when she looked up at him, her eyes glinting.

He was about to wish her good morning, but before he could she kissed him, hard and fast, tongue tangling with his. And then she was straddling him, his head against the pillow, as her lips began to trail down his chest. By the time his sleep and lust addled brain had caught up with what was going on, she had reached her destination and had flipped the waist band of the sweats he was wearing down, taking his erection firmly in one hand, making him hiss slightly.

His size had taken Katie slightly by surprise, although she knew with retrospect it shouldn’t have. She looked up and locked eyes with him before she gave him one final smirk and took him in her mouth. Steve panicked for a second, this had never happened to him before, his hands flying to the bed sheets either side of his waist, but it wasn’t for long, as all worry flew out of his mind as she began to work him.

From the noises he was making Katie knew he was enjoying himself. Which was her aim. After a short while, she pulled off of him to suck at the tip and worked her hands over the rest of his length. When she glanced up at him, he had his head thrown back against the pillow, face contorted in utter pleasure. She continued to lick, suck, and when she pulled away slightly to suck at the sensitive tip, working the rest of his length with her hands he let out a loud groan and he looked at her. Her eyes locked onto his and he felt that tell-tale warmth rising in his groin and stomach.

“Katie, sweetheart, shit.” His voice was raspy from desire and the fact it was morning and Katie was beyond aroused at the sound as he babbled the first words either of them had spoken since waking. “I’m gonna-” his words caught in his mouth as she took him in hers again, this time all the way to the back of her throat. At that, he was gone, his fingers gripped her hair tight the other clutched at the bedsheets, noises escaping him that he’d never heard before as he spilled himself down her throat and slumped back completely blissed out.

Katie rolled onto her side watching, as he finally opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Morning, Handsome.” She grinned and he felt himself chuckle.

“Morning, Gorgeous.” he said, still fighting to control his breathing.

“You want breakfast?” She asked, leaning over to peck him on the lips. He hummed a response and she smiled once more before climbing out of bed. Steve watched her head into the bathroom and found himself thinking that as far as mornings went, he’d had worse.

She emerged a few moments later, her hair slightly less wild, and she was still in his T-shirt, which fell to midway down her toned thighs, giving him a better look at that intriguing tattoo that adorned her right which he still hadn’t seen in full properly. She flashed him a smile, fully aware he was looking her up and down, and then she left without a word, clearly with no intentions of getting dressed fully yet. Which was fine by him.

Katie turned the radio on and set about making coffee, singing softly to herself as she replaced the filter paper. She tossed in a liberal amount of Columbian Roast and was just pouring two mugs when Steve, who was now out of bed, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. She smiled at him and slid a mug of the coffee over the island where the creamer and sugar already lay waiting and he took it with a thanks.

“How hungry are you?” she asked and he arched an eyebrow over the top of the mug and she gave a laugh. “Sorry, dumbass question. Fancy pancakes and fruit?”

“Don’t got to any trouble, Doll.” He began to protest but she shook her head.

“It’s no bother, I can whip up a batter in five minutes.”

Turning away from him, she reached up into the cupboard for the flour and the T-shirt she was wearing rode up slightly giving Steve a perfect view of her ass which was clad in black lace panties. The fraying tendrils of self-control he had been holding onto snapped completely and stood up from the stool he’d been perched on, right hand still clutching his coffee. He rounded the island in three long strides and placed the mug down on the counter beside her, his hands falling to her hips and he gently spun her to face him. She giggled slightly before his lips met hers and he reached down and cupped her ass in both hands picking her up easily and setting her down on the counter.

“Something got you worked up Captain?” She teased, looking up at him. Last night had clearly unlocked something in the Soldier, and she was liking what she was seeing, and feeling.

“Yeah, the sight of you wearing nothing but a pair of panties and my t-shirt…” He said raising an eyebrow as he reached for his mug again, taking another drink, trying to play it cool. But it wasn’t working clearly, as she simply laughed and slid both arms around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him again. His free hand slid to her thigh, tracing a path up until, just as he had reached the bottom of her panties, they were interrupted by the sound of the lift doors opening.

“Hey Kiddo, you in?” Steve and Katie exchanged a look, utter horror spreading from Steve’s head to his toes as Tony’s voice hit his ears.

“Kiddo?” he shouted again. “I can smell coffee, you in the kitchen?”

“Shit…” Katie said as she gently pushed Steve backwards, jumping down from the counter, adjusting the T-shirt. Steve was now a shade of crimson pretty much from his neck upwards as he desperately tried to rearrange his pants to hide his once more ebbing arousal. She debated telling Steve to hide in the bedroom but there was no way he’d get across the open plan living space to the stairs without Tony seeing him.

They were well and truly caught.

As she clocked the utter horror on Steve’s face she was suddenly overcome with giggles at how ridiculous the entire situation was. A super soldier and a SHIELD agent, both of them having faught aliens, deadly terrorists and weapons traders, were stood in her kitchen panicking about being busted fooling around by her brother.

“So, the damned board meeting was cancelled which would have been fine had I not already been on the jet over, so I thought seeing as I now in town with nothing to do we could hang for the day or if you’re too busy at least have breakfast…” Tony’s voice was getting louder as he walked through the apartment.

Steve looked at her in utter astonishment as she began to laugh now because frankly he couldn’t think of a single thing that was funny about this situation if he tried. Her laughter didn’t stop even as her brother walked into the kitchen, his brown eyes flashing from his sister to Steve and their various state of undress, a look of utter horror on his face as he processed the implications.

“Oh you have gottta be fucking kidding me…” Tony muttered, dropping the box he was carrying onto the kitchen counter. “Please tell me there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for this…” “Explanation yes, innocent…not so much.” Katie said through her laughter and Steve let out a groan. This was not how he wanted Tony to find out. “Don’t you know how to buzz Dickwad, before just walking into my apartment?”

“I have a key…” “For emergencies…” she shot back. “Stop changing the subject.” Tony demanded his eyes flashing dangerously and Katie folded her arms and tilted her chin up defiantly.

“Look, this isn’t a big deal, Tony…”

“No, this…this is a very big deal…” he snapped back as he looked from her to Steve, every line on his face was contorted with anger and shock.

Steve took a deep breath and placed his mug down on the side. “Tony…” he began trying to placate the billionaire but he was cut off.

“What, you gonna tell me this aint what it looks like?” he shook his head. “That Captain America isn’t banging my little sister? I might be like nearly 60 years younger than you old man but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Steve took a breath, his nostrils flaring at Tony’s snipe.

“Tony, I’m 29 next week, I can do what or who I like” Katie snapped at him “And besides you’ve no room to talk, the amount of times I’ve walked in on you and whichever bimbo you decided to bring home that night…”

“That is completely different!” Tony spluttered.

“No it isn’t” she shot back, hands going to her hips.

Tony’s eyes locked onto hers, before he looked back at Steve who held his gaze evenly, before the dark haired man shook his head and looked at the super soldier.

“Can you go and put some clothes on please, frankly the amount of flesh on show is disturbing me.” “Well I would but your sister is still wearing my shirt.” Steve shot back, his temper rising. Tony gave another growl and then he stopped, open mouthed.

“Are those my sweats?” He spluttered, his voice practically a squeak.

“Yes.” Katie replied simply, and at that point she grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him out of the room and up the stairs. The initial humour she had found in the situation had ebbed away and now she was livid at her brother.

“He is…” she started, opening the various drawers to pull out a hooded top. Taking Steve’s T-shirt off, as she threw it over the bed to him. “The biggest hypocrite going…”

“To be fair I can kinda see it from his point of view…” Steve said shrugging on his T-shirt and making a point of averting his eyes as she strode over to her dresser, naked bar her panties.

She pulled on a hoody and narrowed her eyes at Steve. “Don’t defend him…”

He chuckled and crossed the room, walking round the bed. “I’m not.” he placed a peck on her lips “But I do think that I should go, let you talk to him alone…”

“Yeah, probably for the best…” she breathed out a sigh and followed him down the stairs where he retrieved his sneakers.

“Wait, do you wanna take my car or…” He gestured up and down his body, and she took in his trainers, slightly too short joggers and a T-shirt “Nah, Baby Girl, I’ll run.” She smiled at the term of endearment that he hadn’t used before then, as he dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll call you later.” He promised, before disappearing in the elevator.

Katie took a deep breath and walked back into the kitchen. Tony eyed her from where he was leaning against the counter, mug of coffee in his hand.

“Don’t start.” Katie warned him, to no avail

“Oh I’m gonna!” Tony spat, before he paused and looked around “Where is the Star Spangled Ass-hole?”

“Gone home.” Katie folded her arms.

Tony snorted “I bet he has…” “You know I don’t remember me reacting like this every time you brought a girl home, which from my recollection happened quite a lot.” Katie sniped back, as she walked to where he was stood by the coffee pot and reached round him to pour herself a fresh mug.

“That..that was different…” Tony stammered at her back as she walked to the counter for the creamer.

“How so?”

“Because, well, it’s him…” he whined “I mean, seriously? Of all the men in the world…”

“Yeah because the last one worked out so great…” Katie said sarcastically, replacing the carton down with a slightly harsh action, causing some to spill over the top.

The room fell silent bar the chink of the spoon on the edge of her pink unicorn mug as she stirred in sugar and milk. She took a sip of her drink and turned to face her brother who was hunched over the counter slightly, eyes on his mug. Eventually he straightened up and met his sister’s eyes before he spoke again, this time his voice was softer.

“How long?” he asked,

“Three weeks, give or take.”

“Three weeks, and I’m only just finding out?” “Yes, Tony.” she groaned, with the air of someone talking to a small child “And your reaction is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

To be fair, Steve was right. It wasn’t an ideal way for him to find out, but she knew the reaction from Tony wasn’t about her being caught, it was about her being caught with Steve. The two men got on okay, which hadn’t always been the case, but after the battle of New York Steve had spent a lot of time with them both at the tower. Tony was still a little reserved with Steve, more so due to the fact that Captain America was someone their dad had idolised but, whilst the two men were immensely different, there was a mutual respect between them and Katie was hoping now that that was going to be enough for Tony to be reasonable about the situation.

“Please don’t kick off about this. I care about him, a lot.” She said gently, looking at her brother, appealing to his better nature and the fact that she knew he would want her to be happy.

And sure enough, that was exactly what Tony asked as he looked at her.

“Does he make you happy?”

“More than anything.” she replied honestly. “I really like him Tony, I want this to work.”

Tony studied her face for a moment before he let out a deep sigh, looking away. “Damned it.” He groaned “I can’t believe I’m going to have to have the Shovel Conversation with Captain America.”

In the silence that followed Katie debated pointing out that Steve wouldn’t be frightened in the slightest of Tony’s various threats anyway, but who was she to rob her brother of his opportunity to try and protect her? Instead she placed her mug on the counter and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Tony who sighed again and reciprocated the gesture.

“Suppose he is an improvement on Agent Shitweasel” he said, resting his chin on her head.

“That’s not exactly a glowing endorsement.” she snorted.

*****

Steve was reading a book in his lounge when Katie messaged him later that afternoon. Apparently Tony had calmed down enough to take her for lunch at some Italian place in the Business District following which they’d had a walk round the city together before Tony had left to go back to New York. Steve was pleased, he knew that despite the fact that he drove her insane at times, she loved the bones of her brother which was why his reaction before had pissed her off. He messaged back, telling her he was glad she’d had a good time and that he would call her later before he picked his book back up, but he’d only managed another chapter or so before there was a buzz on his intercom.

“Rogers, it’s me.”

Steve sighed “Come on up.”

He wasn’t surprised Tony was on his doorstep, he’d been half expecting it. And, judging from the lack of stupid nickname, no Spangles, no Capsicle, no Old Man, he wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries. A fact that was confirmed when Stark didn’t wait for Steve to invite him in, he simply pushed past the door into his flat and stalked inside, glancing around.

“You can tell Kiddo helped you decorate and furnish this gaff, far too modern to be your doing. There’s no Dig for Victory posters or wind up radios…” Tony said, causing Steve to roll his eyes “Holy shit, is that an original Dekka?”

“Katie said you’d like that” Steve watched the inventor cross the room and run his hands across the sleekness of the record player’s casing. “But I have a feeling you didn’t come here to admire my music equipment.”

“Perceptive” Tony turned to face him, his eyes flashing. Steve took a deep breath.

“Tony, I…” “No, you don’t get to talk, you get to listen. And you better listen good.” the billionaire cut him off “Katie was heartbroken when Agent Shitweasel did the dirty on her. She came home and I held her as she cried herself to sleep for 2 goddamned weeks before she shipped out to New Mexico… ”

“Tony…”Steve began, knowing already where this conversation was going. He wanted to assure Tony that he would never do what Ward had done, ever. But Tony ignored him.

“I hated him.” Tony said “he was an absolute dickhead with her at times and she changed because of it. And then, after New York she seemed to go back to being her old self. She was laughing, socialising…and that was down to you” Tony looked at the Super Soldier, who cocked his head slightly to the right as he listened, a small smile tugging at his lips “ She had a friend, something she hasn’t had much time for since my little sioree in an Afghan cave, my bad, and for the first time in ages I can see she’s over it, you know…” he took a deep breath and Steve waited for him to finish “But Katie puts her heart into everything, and I gotta ask Cap, is this serious for you or you just after getting your dick wet?”

“What? No, of course it’s serious for me Tony…” Steve said, his temper flaring slightly at his crass tone. “I can’t believe you think that little of me that you had to even ask me that!”

“Oh get off your high horse, Rogers!” Tony shook his head, and Steve raised his eyebrows “This has nothing to do with what I think of you, this is about my sister…you know the girl I brought up from the age of 7. The girl I couldn’t love any more if she was my own. I’d die for her you got that? Die for her!”

“Well that makes 2 of us!” Steve said loudly, silencing the other man. There was a moment where no sound was heard in the apartment bar the ticking of the clock on the wall and Tony raised his eyebrows slightly as Steve looked down at the floor taking a deep breath.

“Look, I know you’re not happy about this…” Steve sighed, looking at Tony again “But do I care about her Tony, more than you know, and nothing you do or say to me is gonna change that.”

Tony’s eyes softened, but his jaw remained set. Steve took a deep breath and wet his lips before he continued. “And, for what it’s worth, I think you did a damned good job of raising her. She’s an incredible woman.”

“She’s a pain in the ass…” Tony sniffed, Steve was glad to hear his tone was less confrontational “And she’s stubborn, always thinks she knows best…”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Steve said cheekily

“Absolutely no idea” Tony deadpanned back.

Steve’s face cracked into a smile as did Tony’s.

“Look.” Tony sighed, “I just want her to be happy and with someone that treats her right…”

“I don’t ever want to hurt her, Tony. You have my word…” Steve said, honestly.

“Good, because if you do, make no mistake I will fucking kill you, slowly and painfully and there will be no defrosting 70 years down the line.” Tony’s brown eyes flashed slightly as he stared at Steve, And Steve knew, absolutely 100% that he meant it. He was surprised to find himself slightly unnerved by the threat. Hoping that his face didn’t give him away her merely nodded and then Tony’s demeanour changed completely and he turned back into the Tony Stark that Steve knew, and had to admit quite liked after all.

“Good, this was a good talk…” Tony said, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

Steve smiled as the weight he hadn’t even realised he’d been carrying was lifted off his shoulder. Having Tony’s, albeit grudging, approval would mean the world to Katie, and if he was honest, it meant a lot to him as well. Not only was Tony his friend also, but he was the closest thing Katie had to a father, and he wanted him to be alright with the fact the two of them were together.

He offered the man a coffee which he politely declined, stating he needed to get back to New York. The two shook hands on the threshold of Steve’s door before Tony gave him one last look, raising his index finger and middle finger of his right hand to his eyes, before turning them to point at Steve in an “I’m watching you” gesture. Steve raised his eyebrows in understanding and felt his mouth tug upwards at the side as Tony turned on his heels and left.

He retreated back to his living room and pulled out his phone.

“Hey Badass” Katie greeted and Steve chuckled.

“I’ve just had a visitor.” Katie groaned into the phone as he sat back on his couch

“Let me guess… my darling brother turned up to give you the shovel talk?” her tone was exasperated. “No mention of a shovel, just threatened to kill me slowly and painfully if I hurt you, and you know what? I have absolutely no qualms about the fact he would.” Steve grinned as he spoke.

“Don’t tell me Captain America is scared of Iron Man?” she questioned playfully. “No, Steve Rogers is slightly disconcerted by Tony Stark.” He corrected as she let out a chuckle.

“Best make sure you don’t hurt me then aint ya?” “I’ve no intentions of doing doll.” He said, honestly before he let out a breath, smiling “I really enjoyed last night.”

“And this morning?”

“Yeah, another first.” He said, unable to stop the smirk on his face spreading into his voice “I’ve never, errr, had a woman use her mouth on me before…or vice versa for that matter.”

“I like being your first.” she said softly and his chest warmed at her words.

“You know what else was a first? Waking up next to my girl.”

There was a pause before she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“And you know what else I like? You calling me your girl.”

A shit eating grin crept back across the Captains face. “Well, you better get used to it, Doll.”

**** Chapter 7

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Of Midnight Smoothies and Murder Mysteries

Summary: Sneaking out for a movie turns out to be a bad idea.

A/n: So... this was supposed to com out on Halloween then I confessed about thirst then my priorities shifted. Well, since I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving this is just extended Halloween. It would be funny to do a Thanksgiving thing with the Batfam. Thanks to @littleredwing89 and @lucy-roo for proof reading this crack. Thanks for @ereawrites for the encouragement. And thanks to @littleredwing89 for the mood board. (I love you my dear enabler.) Also “[ ]” will indicate characters speaking in a different language. I sadly could not find grammar stuff for the language so you will have to bear with me. This is still part of the Merc! Reader series.

Warnings: Gore, a lot of blood, dumb bickering, Dick being a cute dork, and snake bleps.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Aliens don't exist," You huff around your thoroughly chewed straw, swirling the radioactive green smoothie Dick insisted that you try. You debate on whether to take out the bag of confectioners sugar you bought and pour it in. Dick makes a noise, indiscernible with his own straw in his mouth. You cast a glance at him only to see his neon blue smoothie spurting out of his nose. Your snort quietly, the noise hidden by the rustling of grocery bags against your bouncing leg but based on the way he’s pouting at you, Dick clearly sees your lack of sympathy and takes offense. You shrug at him.

Brushing the liquid away with the sleeve of his denim jacket, Dick levels you his best batglare. You give him an impassive half-asleep response of ‘hnnn’ which just gave him flashbacks about talking to Bruce. You’re entirely too focused on the fact that the blue of the smoothie is still alarmingly stark even against the blue of the denim. “You’ve met Superman, right?”

You roll your eyes at his piss poor attempt at intimidating you and pinch your straw between your thumb and index finger, trying to break apart the clumps of ice preventing you from getting more smoothie. “-Met is a strong word-” You drawled causing him to sneer. “Just say he kicked your ass six ways to Sunday like a normal person.”

“I fought him.”

“You got your ass beat-” You glare at him sticking your green tongue out at him and in return he sticks his blue tongue out at you. It was true but he didn’t have to say it. This is always how your long-held arguments start.

“Besides, aren’t you and Slade metas?” He breaks in after a long moment, instantly cutting off the possibility of weeks of not talking to each other. You smile balefully at him. “Precisely.”

“What? How does you being a weirdo disprove aliens?”

You make an affronted sound through your nose but launch into your explanation in your professorial voice. “The guy’s gotta be some kind of meta and he probably just came up with the Krypton thing afterwards. It sounds cooler, yanno?”

Dick looks up to the smog covered Gotham sky, leaning back against the solid brick pillar behind him. “Well, why can’t he be an alien?” He says dreamily tracing unseen constellations with his right hand. You briefly remember him mentioning stargazing with his parents when he was younger. There is something warm in the memory even if it wasn’t yours. You look down at him, eyebrow ticking. “Ok genius, tell me why there would be aliens that look exactly like us?”

“Why not?” He says grinning at you. The sterile lighting of the grocery store light filtering through smudgy windows highlighting his features. The shadows highlighting the shape of his cheekbones and the dimples forming at the edges of his cheeks. When had Dick gone from cute to handsome? You shake your head, avoiding his smiling corscian blue eyes.

“Becaaauuuuuse, dipshit, that’s not how evolution works” You bite out.

“What about convergent evolution?” He offers casually and your tongue freezes. A light flickers in his eyes and his pretty mouth twitch up into a laugh when you fail to respond. “You forgot about that, didn’t you? HA”

“I regret this conversation.”

“HA”

“Superman fanboy” you accuse, jabbing a finger into his chest. Dick giggles either from your weak deflection or the fact he’s ticklish, either way, your stomach does somersaults.

“Just say you’re wrong.” He says grinning, the divots formed by his dimples becoming more apparent. You feel Yasiri’s tail flick across your collarbone, her body coiling up in response to your irritation. Your mouth curls too but the irritation doesn’t quite boil over as you expected it to, not when Dick smiles at you like that. There’s a strange twisting in your stomach. You aren’t sure what it is but you’re pretty sure that you don’t like it. You blow out a breath, sound caught between a tired laugh and a long-suffering sigh, and pick your grocery bags before getting up.

Not even 5 seconds after you resolve to abandon him, Dick’s already by your side, falling into step with you bumping his shoulder against yours in a placating gesture. Yasiri slithers from the skin on the base of your neck to hiss at him. Dick smiles at her unfazed despite the clear and present danger. He pets her without much fuss from your usually ferocious snake. You make an amused noise at her compliance.

The walk is spent in easy companionable silence. The kind you two settle into when Dick knows you need to settle down. You were a sore loser when it comes to arguments but so was he, so you tend to let the other work through it. You grimace at your lightly scuffed shoes. They weren’t expensive or flashy or even one of a kind but they were comfortable, reliable, and most importantly they were from Mr. Wintergreen- Uncle Wintergreen, he insisted. The fact that he’d taken the time at all made your stomach flip-

Your stomach dropped. Your throat and mouth felt dry. The scent of copper permeating the air as you stared at the red puddle beneath your white shoes, a severed finger poking at you.

"Y/n?"

You must have stopped abruptly. You turn to Dick mechanically and see his face crumple into worry. Before you can rush out words of dismissal, your ears tune in to the sounds of a haunting melody. Yasiri rattles around your neck once again leaving the safety of your collar bone. Your head swivels mechanically towards the old theatre. Dick looks at you curiously, concern flashing in his eyes when another scream erupts from the theater. You both stiffen, spines straightening. Eyes blown wide, your feet take you toward the theater.

Dick falls into step with you.”You’re not seriously going, are you? You’ve- Didn’t we just watch a horror movie?”

“You seem to be going the same way.” You point out, side-eyeing him sharply, the sour look on your face not betraying the anxiety cloying at your spine. In the corner of your eye, you can see Dick huffing and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m Robin.”

“And I kicked your ass just 2 days ago and served it on a silver platter while quoting the one and only Arnold Schwarzenegger,” You grin absolutely, unequivocally unapologetic.

“I was protecting civilians!” He protests, throwing up his hands theatrically.

“Iieerrelevant~”

Dick opens his mouth to contest your point but there really was convincing you on that. His face screws up and being the gracious loser that he is, he sticks his still neon blue tongue out at you. You, being the graceful winner that you were, stick your radioactively neon green tongue at him in answer.

You continue to bicker about the merits of his heroism on the battlefield 'til you reach the front of the theater. You tuck your grocery bags behind debris by the entrance making sure to keep them well hidden. Dick wants to point out that they’ll probably be gone by the time you two are done but Yasiri was staring at him like she was about to strike at him for real this time.

It- It wasn’t hard to get into the building. Dick held out his hand to you as you climbed over another set of debris. You take it. You thank him clumsily. He bows to you a gremlin smile spreading across his face. You sneer but give him a sharp smile in return.

It’s dark. The absence of light is thick. It makes the sounds of your heartbeats uncomfortably loud. You swallow. You trace your finger along your skin, the hilt of your knife falls easily into your hand. You trace your finger on your other arm and hand the knife to Dick who shakes his head. You shrug and let it melt back into your skin.

“You have a tracker on you, right?”

“No-” You eye him, cutting him a look of disbelief. “I-”

“Relax, I have one too.” You deadpan.

Dick sighs. “You’re dad’s paranoid too?”

“So is yours” You snip, hackles drawn.

“Bruce isn’t my dad.”

“Slade isn’t mine either.”

“Mentors?” Dick offers placatingly.

“Polite way of saying bossy prick, I guess.” You roll your eyes but concede.

“I mean I don’t know about Wintergreen but Alfred taught me some manners.” Dick shrugs, folding his arms behind his head somehow relaxed despite the thick scent of blood in the air or maybe this was how Dick was when he was nervous.

The truth was Wintergreen had attempted to teach you manners but he’d run into quite a few problems. The first being that you were a terrible student. Sure, you caught on quickly when you could but anything you didn’t gravitate towards didn’t hold your limited attention long enough to make an actual impact on you. Now that in of itself was fixable with the right kind of bribery. The other problem was less so. Your mentor, if you could really call him that, was a rude bastard. Long story short, you’ve never seen the point, much to Wintergreen’s chagrin and Slade’s amusement. You were, however, a master of mouthing off.

“Shouldn’t we call back up?”

You flick your eyes to him, uselessly, but based on the shifting of the body beside you he somehow got the message. “Go ahead, if you wanna explain to big daddy bats why you’re hanging out with me, sure.”

Yeah. That wasn’t an option. There was, of course, a silent understanding that bats probably knew about your little hangouts but still.

You pad the walls with your left hand while your right was gripping Dick’s sleeve, white-knuckled. You cringe every now and again feeling the walls slick with what you weren’t eager to investigate. You strain your ear to listen for odd sounds but mostly to see if Dick, as you suspect, is echolocating.

“How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Silently echolocating?”

Dick snickers. “I am not. You do know B isn’t an actual bat, right?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot he was just a furry.” You sneer. Dick snorts a sound caught between amusement and offense. He clearly respected Bruce. Not the same way you respected Slade, maybe, but you understood how larger than life the Batman was even if he was the biggest pain in your ass by far.

“Do you really have any room to make fun of my mentor when yours has ‘Stroke’ in his name?”

“I have plenty of room, probably. Why not echolocate to check just how much room I have?”

“Listen here-”

The opera music floods the silent hall, sharp and clear. You feel the air around you catch fire and your fraying nerves. You turn your head to Dick. Despite not being able to see him, you know his mouth flattens and his brow wrinkles the way they do when you two agree to do something incomprehensibly stupid. This time you do not argue or question or even complain. You simply go forward.

A scream, messy and jagged, tangles with the smooth crispness of the opera music. It makes your stomach turn almost as much as the idea of who or, more appropriately, whatever was behind it. You were familiar with the cruelties Gotham’s monsters were capable of. You have, after all, worked for quite a few.

But this?

This pure, uncut agony in that scream? That was just something you could not stomach. You feel Dick flinch at the sound, almost jumping out of his skin. You squeeze his arm once, then twice, then twice once more. You feel his hand on your wrist, reciprocating the gesture. You smile at him reassuringly not knowing whether it would make things better or whether he can actually see it.

Neither of you is particularly good at dealing with people’s pain. That might not be the right word for it. Neither of you coped well. You absorbed too much of it. You were, however, much better at hiding it. Not that you could fault Dick on that. You didn’t even attempt. For Dick, humanity was a part of the job. Compassion? Kindness? That was to be expected of a hero not derided. To uphold that in the face of Gotham’s worst, that took strength.

Strength, in your case, was directed elsewhere. Something bone-breaking, more visceral. You suppose that was the problem with keeping company with survivors. Perpetually dancing on the brink of death robbed you of something but you haven’t exactly known any other life besides this.

The end of the hall is light by bright lights, sterile white, the kind you only saw in clinics. Your head runs through the catalog of Gotham’s rogues, possibilities of which utter psychopath could possibly be doing this.

“We should call the cops.”

Not really really paying attention, you nod. You should probably. You grip the handle of your knife, flexing your fingers nervously, as another scream cuts through the air. Dick’s body curls, recoiling at the sound. The sound, this close, was enough to make you twitch.

“Can’t we just text them?”

“What do you think this is? Canada?”

“Ok, fair but make sure to tell them you’re Dickle Grayson.” You tease, smiling way too easily considering the creepy atmosphere.

Dick crosses his arms over his chest.“And summon a media storm?”

“It would get the police here faster.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Dick wishes he could wipe the absolutely smug grin off your face. “We need to back up. You know, in case, he can hear us.”

“I mean you are the one unarmed here.” You say, waving your arms at him.

“No, I’m not. I have my bird-a-rangs.” Dick preens, taking them out from some pocket hidden in his jacket.

“Bird-a-rangs.” You echo, raising a brow.

“Yup. Bird-a-rangs.”

“You are officially- no, you are legally not allowed to name things.”

Dick makes an offended squawking noise.“Oh, come on! Still not as bad as Sharknado.”

“Take. That. Back. Heathen.”

“Make me.”

Both of you still. Yasiri unfurls from your collarbone, her tail rattling. You spin on your heel. Your knife swings out in a wide crescent of light. Thick crimson splashes across your face. At the end of your knife was a person- no, it was a person in the past tense. It makes a small cry when you wiggle the blade planted in its throat a fraction. Otherwise, it ignores the fact that it is, in fact, bleeding out from its jugular. It’s thick, clumsy limbs reach for you. Your stomach rolls. The thing in front of you, the mangled approximation of what was once a person, is lurching towards you. You think you sneer in disgust but your face is far too numb to tell.

“Dick! Just call the cops!” You snarl, panic rising audibly as more bodies emerge from God knows where. You kick the one to your front off to the side, shredding its neck. It takes everything in you not to vomit. In the corner of your eye, you see Dick type as he kicks another one away. You two back into each other as the bodies close around you, cutting off all the exits. You roll up your sleeve tracing a blood-soaked finger over the lines of your tattoo and producing another knife. Dick pulls out his bird-a-rangs.

Dick landed blows but they weren’t hard enough to maim or be fatal. Even if he was to hit them with the sharp bird-a-rangs, he would still aim non fatally. Slade would kill you if you fought so inefficiently or maybe he would just taunt you. Either way, you didn’t care much for Dick’s squeamishness right now as the bodies kept getting back up. As far as you can tell, you’re doing them a favor.

The first wave of bodies rushes towards you. Their limbs jutting towards you clumsily. You swing your blade, vicious and precise. You feel metal clash against flesh, against bone. Blood coats every available surface on you. You hear Dick squawk and you don’t really need to turn around to check that he’s also covered in it too. The spray of blood makes the air thick with the scent of copper. The blood on your skin burns.

“Duck!”

“Goose!” You shout, ducking and slashing down at a row of bodies and legs. You hear his bird-a-rangs slice through the air cleanly and land on one of the creature's shoulders. You let out a huff of air thinking of all the more permanent places it could have landed. He throws a few more hitting them in the face.

Dick launches over you, using you as a springboard. You grunt and he winks at you like a showman. His foot predictably lands an impressive blow on one of the creature's faces. You two regroup back to back immediately after he lands.

Your eyes widen a fraction when a hand from out of nowhere grabs at your face catching you off guard. Your breath catches when you feel a hand at your shoulder pushing you down. A fist makes contact with the creature’s swollen face and it takes a moment for your mind to realize that it’s Dick’s hand on your shoulder and Dick’s fist making contact with the creature.

“Thanks,” You mumble, straightening yourself out. “I had it.”

“You’re welcome, Pookie.” You flush as Dick winks at you. “You know I literally have your back.” He teases. You groan bending back into a fighting stance.

“When we get out of here alive, we are working on your sense of humor.” Dick chuckles at that, making your muscles ease. “Says the person who shouted ‘Goose!’.”

You land every blow with every intent to make it fatal. Dick is still sticking to his nonfatal method. Normally, it was pure joy to watch Dick as he fights. The sheer control he commands over his muscles was awe-inspiring. Despite his size, he’s able to land blows just as powerful as yours. He would truly be terrifying if he were to be anything but himself.

These bodies. They’re too alive, too much. The next wave comes at you more fervently with more bodies. Another wave of nausea hits you when hands grasp at your arms. Your stomach tries to twist out of your abdomen. You try to wrench yourself free. You pull and twist and thrash, only succeeding in getting yourself pulled in deeper.

“Dick!” You cry reflexively. The coarseness in your voice lets the fear spill all over your vowels.

Dick’s corscian eyes widen with a flash of panic. To Dick, you and death were two separate lines running on parallel tracks next to each other, never quite crossing and never belonging to the same headspace. Completely mutually exclusive as far as he knew. But right at this moment, right as you’re about to be swallowed whole by the crowd of misshapen bodies, he watches those lines slowly intersect. Dick doesn’t know where his heart has leaped to.

“Y/n!”

The world resurfaces in a surge of bright white light. Some small part of you is really hoping that Dick is, for once, right about the alien thing. Quietly you draw in a calming breath. It’s shallow not wanting your chest to rise too much to give away your consciousness.

The opera music is blaring in your still ringing head which isn’t helped by the wannabe opera singer belting his lungs out. Thankfully, that means he’s distracted. You move your limbs checking. Everything seems to be intact AND you seem to be tied up to someone instead of something which was either good or bad depending on who it is.

“Mornin’ sleepy head” Dick mumbles quietly, sounding relieved. You click your teeth in irritation.

“Morning, Disco Stick. Any chance you magically woke up with a plan or were you just taking a beauty nap?”

“I don’t need one and sort of.”

“Well shit, we’re screwed then.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m sorry which of us is running around doing somersaults when they’re assaulting criminals?”

“In my defense, flipping makes my kicks land harder.” Which was true but you were feeling snippy. “It also gives them much more time to dodge or counter.”

“Killjoy.” You roll your eyes, smiling. You know he’s being cute and pouting. Given this is really not the time considering there is a man butchering another man a few feet away from you while singing bad opera. You really did stumble into a horror movie. “Please tell me you called Batman or the police.”

“Both.”

“How?”

“Some of us are good at multitasking.” Dick chirps proudly leaning against you. You scoff judging just how tightly the ropes are bound around you.

“Well, you are good at being insufferable while still breathing.”

“Isn’t that part of my charm?”

You snicker accidentally tugging at the binds around you. You hear Dick wince likely from what is a bruised rib or, heaven help you, a broken one. “Sorry.” You whisper low and small.

Shit. What if he had a broken rib. Shit. Shit.

“I’m ok, Hon.” Dick laughs making sure to lay the Delaware accent thick. It makes your chest feel warm even though everything else in you was freezing from dread. You snort. “Fine, bleed out for all I care.”

“Awwww don’t be like that.” You sigh. You hate how weak you are to his puppy dog eyes. You can’t even see it. You decide to change the subject instead. “So what are the odds that we’re escaping if we break out of their bonds now?”

“Not high.”

“Even if I get Yasiri to gently inject him with poison?”

“Please tell me you didn’t bring poison to our hangout.”

“I mean. Do twinkies count?”

“No.”

“Ok, fine. So we’re stalling then.”

“Pretty much.”

“I hate this.”

“You were the one who started heading in.”

“Why didn’t you stop me then?”

The man at the surgical table turns to you with a whimsical flourish as the body on the table goes limp. No, not limp. Docile. You have just witnessed a person become a body, you think numbly. The way the fight so easily left its limbs made you shudder, feeling the fight in your own limbs fleeting out. This isn’t how you want to die, not by the hand of a madman. At least, not until you’ve put your own demons to rest.

“Look who’s awake,” He drawls, his voice slimy and all the vowels coming out at the wrong pitches. Dick shifts the two of you so that he’s angled slightly in front of you. He squares his shoulder trying to make his lean form look far bigger than it actually is. You smile at his attempt to be protective because deep down you both know you’re the more intimidating one and you’re the one who can take more punishment. Your power and training have those pleasant side effects.

You see him draw closer making you snarl. “Come any closer and I swear I will rip your throat out.” You are surprised at how even the threat came out but the distilled ferocity you had put into it didn’t quite show, likely blunted by the fear pooling in your stomach.

“Don’t worry I’ll make you perfect too. I promise.” He reaches past Dick, grabbing you by the back of your neck. The grip on you is bruising and callous. He forces you to bow your head and look down at the bloodstains on your clothes. The browning blots of red stain your white Wonder Woman shirt. You swallow. You felt like a lamb being dragged to slaughter. Dick, likely without thinking, bites down on the man’s wrist.

The man pulls away with a cry, cradling his bleeding wrist. “Are you ok?” Dick asks, spitting blood out, eyes shiny with concern. You gulp down air before nodding. Dick presses closer to you reassuring you. Shaken, you press back, careful not to press hard enough to hurt him.

Your floundering mind comes to one conclusion. You can’t let him touch Dick. You use your strength to shift your positions so that Dick is completely behind you. Dick tries to move you back but you plant your heels preventing him from even inching.

The man grabs you by the collar of your shirt, pulling you off the ground. You hear Dick’s breath hitch. His heart rate kicks up and so does yours. Fury burning in the man’s eyes. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?” He screams, shaking you. “NO. NO. NO. MY- I’M- NO! PERFECT. I NEED- I NEED TO BE PERFECT.” Somehow the spit flying in your face grosses you out more than the blood probably drying on your face. It’s only winning by a small margin though.

Bile is rising in your throat. Still, you grin, sneering and taunting. “Trust me you didn’t need help in the department,” You jeer. Dick squirms behind you. Urging you to stop. You don’t. “You think those pisspoor excuses for creatures you sicced on us were perfect. HA!” You can feel Dick shaking his head behind you. You nudge him assuring him you’ve got a plan. You did. Sort of. It’s more of a goal really. Take his attention off of Dick.

“[Y/n, please no. Don’t do this. I know what you’re doing. But I can take it. Moon, please.]” Dick pleads, voice hoarse and desperate. ‘Shion’. Moon. The endearment glances of your ribs like a well placed kick to the chest. You don’t let your eyes flick to him. “[Which us is meta here?]” You whisper back in broken Romani. You cringe a little knowing just how badly you butchered the sentence. Dick makes an affronted noise. “Cham.” You whisper quietly, trying to shape your vowels and consonants correctly. Dick’s breath catches. Sun. Sure, the endearment seemed inadequate, too succinct, when compared to how much you care for him but as of right now it will have to do.

The man shakes you again dragging your attention away from Dick. Your smarmy grin cuts across your face as if you’re not pissing yourself from fear. A large hand grabs your face. Your entire body braces itself for your neck to be twisted but it does not come. He tilts your head back side to side. “You’re going to need a lot of work.”

Your heart stops. Dick thrashes behind you. You want to elbow him. You want to scream at him to stop fucking moving but you’re entire body is numb. Your eyes flick to the man, no, the body on the table. It is breathing and writhing in agony. Your breaths pick up. You- you don’t- you can’t-

You hear a crash and the fall of debris on a dozen bodies.

“B!” Dick shouts distantly. The grip on your collar disappears. A black clad fist hangs in front of you. Your eyes trace up the arm in front of you only to be met with the scowling face of the Batman. You swallow nervously while Dick lets out another enthusiastic ‘B’. Batman makes quick work of your ropes, all the while glaring at you for what you don’t know. Maybe somehow he knows this whole situation was your fault.

Once released, the first order of business, at least for Dick, is to throw his arms around Batman’s shoulders. Awkwardly, he reciprocates your friend’s affection. The hold he has on Dick cannot be mistaken as anything but protective. You find humor in the fact at how obvious their familial connection is yet they deny it. A teasing remark rises up your throat but is abruptly shoved back down by Batman’s unrelenting glare. Was he born glaring?

“What are you doing here?” Less of a question and more of a growled accusation.

“Careful, his rib might be broken.” You stumble out dumbly. Dick glares at you but compared to Batman’s it looks more like a pout which is, again, hilarious. Batman loosens his grip on Dick and apparently, this is now the time Dick chooses to realize that his mentor (read: dad) is trying to turn you into ash with a scowl.

Dick peels away from him stepping in front of you. He widens his stance to shield you from the larger man. Dick feels an odd surge of protectiveness and he’s not about to let B attack you, especially not after what just happened.

They stare each other down. They seem to be having a silent argument. You want to cut in but you’re afraid you might actually turn into ash with the intensity of Batman’s gaze.

The loud blaring of sirens mingle with the still playing opera music in the background as a tidal wave of police officers and paramedics rush in.

-----

You pestered the medic to let you stay with Dick.

“So, what do you plan on doing?” Dick asks, leaning against you pointedly ignoring the paramedic's instruction to be careful. You let him lean into you. You know he needs all the comfort he can get. You rest your head against his hair, placing a kiss on his scalp. Dick doesn’t comment afraid that you might withdraw if he teases you too much.

“Maybe grow out my hair,” You joke, pinching a lock of hair between your fingers. “Might as well considering how grounded I’ll be. Well, if uncle Wintergreen has anything to say about it.”

Dick extricates himself from your shoulder and turns to you with a pensive look. Tilting his head, he looks at you appraisingly, wrinkling his brow. You can’t blame him. He’s never seen you with long hair mainly because you’ve never let it get too long. Too much of a hassle, too much of a health hazard.

Dick places his jacket over your head, draping it over you like a wedding veil. You chuckle at him, barely able to keep the smile off of your face.

“How do I look?” You joke twining your fingers around the cloth. You think you see Dick blush but it was probably just the cold. Dick coughs poorly disguising his laughter. He covers his mouth, depriving you of his dimples. “ Like you’re going to get married in a jean pants suit. I have dibs on walking you down the aisle.”

You tilt your head. Your smile tilts along with it. “Nah uncle Wintergreen has dibs on that.”

Dick huffs, his shoulders sag in disappointment. It’s the closest he was gonna get to being your groom, he thinks.

I want you waiting for me at the end of the aisle. The thought makes your heart twist. You swallow it along with the huge lump in your throat. “You can be my last dance though.”

You concede. Dick brightens a little at this but not by much.

“You sure Deathstroke wouldn’t mind?”

“This implies he’ll show up. He’s a busy man.” Dick laughs at that. Genuine and very Dick. This time you don’t fight the smile off of your face.

You smile at each other and laugh. A million unspoken sentences hang between the two of you.

This love of yours is reckless.

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a/n: Thanks for reading. Also yes I did have to include good dad Bruce and bastard mentor Slade. I only have one braincell and it is dumber than shit.

tag list: @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes , @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical, @ereawrites

#dick grayson #robins #batboys x reader #batboys #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dc x reader #dc fanfic

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