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#because I they give me little boosts of joy and make me giddy
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Their First Christmas With You: Albert Wesker
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It caught Umbrella by surprise when Wesker told them he wasn’t going to be working over the holidays. They didn’t really know how to handle their best operative suddenly disappearing with only a phone call explaining that he was only to be contacted in an emergency. 
And that emergency was only applicable if his work had been stolen or destroyed; Umbrella was under nuclear attack or an outbreak was going global. The rest they can deal with on their own.
You were just as surprised, but considerably more excited, about Wesker staying home over the holiday. 
And you spent as much time as possible with him. It had been a long time since the two of you got to sleep in during the mornings together. Or stay up late talking without his phone going off and him having to leave on business. 
It was nice spending everyday not worried that your moments weren’t going to be interrupted because someone in a lab dropped a viral sample.
Wesker has had your present planned for months. And worked on it throughout that time. 
Umbrella has never allowed him to contact you on missions without their supervision. Usually monitored over secure lines with specialists listening in to make sure he didn’t give any information that was classified.  
And sometimes, it would be months before you get even a hint of whether he was alive or dead. 
So, Albert designed a small device that, no matter the distance or lack of signal, would alert you with a gentle vibration when touched, if Wesker was still alive. He had a paired device that would give a small vibration in response anytime you touched your present. They were both in the shape of a bracelet. A neat, simple design that Wesker could hide under the sleeve of his coat. Made from leather and metal that when, or if ever seen, would be passed as a watch band. 
Your gift to him was not nearly as high tech or fancy. But you got him a little chain and pendant with a picture of you hidden inside. You did try to get something complex, where the pendant had a small trick mechanism you had to solve before it clicked open. Which Wesker solved mere seconds after opening the gift. 
Albert complained all the time that he missed seeing you, so you gave him something to take with him. 
His silence at first worried you. The thoughts of him not liking your gift swelled in your chest. Maybe it was too sappy? Were you being too forward in your relationship? 
But Wesker shattered those thoughts by kissing you. His hands held the sides of your face as your lips crashed together. It was such a loving, tender kiss that your mind melted into a puddle of giddiness. Leaving you smiling as Wesker pulled away to gaze down at the pendant in his hand. Bright red eyes shining as he wrapped the chain around his wrist. The same one his bracelet was clasped around. 
“So everytime you check in on me, I can see your face.” He said softly.
To Wesker, it was perfect. He had never been given a gift that made his chest tighten like yours did. And after those holidays, he found his work to be a little more bearable when it took him away from you. 
Now able to see your face and feel your touch every morning and night.
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barrowsteeth · 2 years
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Anatomy of a Kiss - 1.05 Friend
[long post + gif heavy meta ahead]
I don’t think we’ve talked enough about Nick and Charlie’s body language during the arcade kiss scene in 1.05. I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently, so I’m going to break it down and would love to hear others’ thoughts!
First, I think we need to talk about how brave Charlie is, once again, in telling Nick that he wants to kiss him. I just…love that he did that? I imagine his confidence has been boosted after their talk, and of course Nick giving him the photo gift, and saying how much he likes him. But even so, our guy knows what he wants and just comes out with it. I love that he has the confidence to say it.
At the same time, Nick seems so nervous about the idea of it at first. We can see him swallow and look down, and his hands are firmly stuffed into his pockets, but he also sees how happy Charlie is, and is also listening to Charlie and taking Charlie's wants into account as he considers it. When I first watched this scene, I had a little thought that he was also trying to make up for the Imogen date a little bit by even considering a public kiss, but I don't think that's really a factor here.
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In the next second, we see Nick take a look around and really decide that this is going to happen -- not just because Charlie wants it, but because he does too. I mean, this is a big deal! They've just confirmed that they both really like each other, and they're going to have their first public kiss. And look at Charlie's face! He's smiling, probably not expecting Nick to agree, but he's just being happy.
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I know verbal consent in this scene has been discussed before, and it is perfectly done, in my opinion. What I really love about this part of the scene is that for once, Charlie doesn't apologize. He gives Nick multiple chances to change his mind, and Nick is just as determined to let Charlie know he really wants to kiss him too. I think this exchange adds so much to the scene, and even gives Nick a little more time to get excited about the idea of kissing Charlie. In the second gif below, we see Nick's hands out of his pockets and when he says "yeah," his fingers twitch a little. He's ready for this.
And Charlie is so cute and patient and maybe a little disbelieving, but he's also clearly so happy that this is going to happen. I love it when he squares his body before he moves in to kiss Nick. **flails hands**
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I don't have a lot to say about the kiss itself except that it's soft and sweet and really just perfection, so let's take a moment to enjoy it. **happy sigh**
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This got longer and wordier than I thought, so putting the rest under the cut...
I think the biggest contrast in Nick and Charlie's body language comes after the kiss. They are both completely and obviously caught up in the moment when they separate. Charlie's little double blink is one of my absolute favorite moments in the entire series, as is Nick's breathlessness. It's too much! But then they part, and their reactions are very, very different.
Nick looks around again and shoves his hands in his pockets, back to that nervousness we saw earlier, and Charlie is absolutely giddy with joy and doesn't know what to do with his hands while he giggles to himself. I think both of their reactions are so true to character.
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But what always gets me is that in this next part of the scene, Charlie gives Nick a little space to process what just happened. He is over the moon with happiness but can likely see that Nick needs a minute to collect himself. I think this is so important, because it also gives Charlie a minute to himself to be giddy and happy too, without having to consider how Nick is feeling. It's okay to be ecstatic about what just happened! He doesn't need to feel selfish for needing his own time, and I'm so, so glad he doesn't.
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And of course, Nick doesn't waste a minute before pulling out his phone and texting Imogen. Honestly, how could he not after the moment he just had with Charlie? I think he understands that this is a no-turning-back moment when he tucks his phone away. And he doesn't want to go back, which is the most important thing. It sets the stage for all of the wonderful moments in 1.06, where he tries to be the best not-yet-official boyfriend to Charlie.
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I think we can all agree that Charlie Spring has had the best. birthday. ever.
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eldritchships · 1 year
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6, 9, 11 for Flatline if you’d prefer specification but otherwise any self insert/oc is good!
Do they fight? What’s their weapon of choice? Do they stay on the sidelines? What would it take for them to get off the sidelines? Revenge? Saving a loved one? What’s the motivation for them to fight, or to stay OUT of a fight?
Flatline doesn’t fight directly; he teams up with a more combat-suited bot, or he poisons his enemies from a distance, weakening them before he moves in to attack. His weapon of choice is his bladed syringe and his concoctions, boosting or harming other targets as needed. He’s a field medic, so he’s comfortable with that role, swooping in to help and then swooping out again (especially before other bots can try to take him out). He 100% knows he’s likely to get overwhelmed quickly in a fight, so while he can hunt with brutal efficiency using his poison method, he’ll avoid getting trapped in one-on-one melee or unarmed combat. What I immediately think the exception would be is if a loved one was in danger - Flatline admittedly has very few loved ones, but he would absolutely jump into a fight if it was to protect or save one of them. If someone caused a loved one to be in danger, they would be well and truly fucked, because Flatline would come after them with all of his fury and weapons at his disposal.
Their favorite foods? Colors? Activities? What do they enjoy in life? How do they express their joy for things they like?
Flatline genuinely likes pink and blue. He has a great amount of passion for his work, and he gets a lot of fun and joy out of it. He used to like night-ins with small groups of people (very casual chatting, hanging out and getting into some mischief), but nowadays being in social groups puts him a little on edge, too much to enjoy them. When Flatline expresses his joy, he gets more giddy and enthusiastic, and physically closer to other people. It almost reminds me of an artist in a romantic-era novel, or a gothic mad scientist, because of how dramatic and expressive and talkative he gets.
How easy is it to make your insert angry? Sad? How easy is it to twist their emotions into negative things? By contrast, how easy are they to cheer up? What can brighten a bad day?
Flatline has less self-discipline when it comes to his emotions, so between him allowing his emotions to be more intense and having a few sensitive topics that will get under his skin fast, I imagine it wouldn’t be difficult to make him angry. However, Flatline rarely gets sad, and it’d take a lot to make him sad rather than lashing out by getting defensive (or angry, in worse cases). I don’t think Flatline is easy to cheer up, and Flatline would rather be left alone until his bad mood subsides. If you try to get involved, and/or try to cheer him up, you’re likely to receive a lot of glares and hostile vibes until you either leave or Flatline starts outright threatening you. Flatline feels more comfortable when he’s left alone, so giving him some ‘me time’ will at least ease his bad mood - getting to do some easy busy-work, stretching his rotors to go for a quick fly-around in helicopter form, maybe lounging with some high-grade energon if he really needs to take a load off, all usually help to brighten a bad day.
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oriigirii · 3 years
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Streamer MC headcannons with the brothers 💞
"You were quite a known face on social media back in the human realm, playing games, doing unboxings, just vibin in general, fans around the globe looked forward to your streams a lot! However, considering the sudden (unannounced) invitation to the exchange program, you had to leave all of that behind out of the blue. It wasn't as bad at first, but you have to admit you do miss the feeling of being able to do goofy shit online. Luckily for you, with the advance technology of Devildom and some spicy magic, the internet had synced with the human realm, and thats when you decided to finally re-enter the streaming scene. How will the brothers react upon seeing your peculiar past time?"
Head empty, No thoughts aside from the brothers just bothering the MC while they stream so here you go haha
Warnings: None, just crackhead energy and a lotta mispellings
Gender: Neutral!
Hotel: Trivago
* [ ಠ╭╮ಠ ] Lucifer *
{How did he know about your career?}
I honestly don't see him as someone who goes on the internet a lot
(He screams boomer to me, change my mind)
He doesn't have the time either, he's too focused on work!
So him finding out is gonna take a while
But! He did find out the hard way when shrilled screaming was heard from your room when he was passing by with some paper stacks in his arms (courtesy of Diavolo)
This man felt his instincts kick in, he ran as fast as he could, papers forgotten, and he immediately slammed your door open. Splinters scattering around, your door definitely damaged, as his eyes held a glare and his demon form was out, wings spread in a threatening display.
He was ready to beat someone's ass as he had thought someone had hurt you in here.
But all hes met with is you, infront of your chair and PC, and a game over on the screen...
To say he was unamused was an understatement cause you just lost your internet priviliges for giving him a heart attack (He said it was because you were being rowdy and noisy but with what you saw you knew that wasn't the case)
Good luck tryna puppy-eye your way to his heart to let you continue streaming lol.
If by some miracle you managed to wriggle your rights back from his hands, he'd warn you not to be so loud next time.
You already learnt your lesson though~ (Hopefully)
{How does he feel about your streams?}
Not everyone's the same, so if you were the shy soft streamer who does more art streams or something akin to a podcast, you can bet that Lucifer will be putting you on while he works, he kinda knows your streaming schedule at this point and if you were running late, he'd force one of his brothers to take over your dish washing duties or any chores you were stuck with
If you were the loud obnoxious meme type, hed still try to watch out of curiosity, and as much as he appreciates that you were getting comfortable here in Devildom with how you laugh and joke around, he still can't approve of it. Its too loud, its much like his brothers energy and he has enough of that already, so he probably doesn't watch as much.
He has countlessly came to your room to shush you and at this point your fans had made a compilation of each time Lucifer had barged in to tell you off
Look he likes it when you scream, but not when hes in the middle of work okay--
At this point, chat has deemed Lucifer as dad and you as their mom/dad.
If he ever catches wind of this he'd definitely be teasing you in private for centuries to come.
Overall fine with it, as long as don't do something stupid on stream.
* ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ Mammon*
{How did he know about your career?}
I would say he found out by him crashing into your streams midway but that's too predictable, hence why you've Mammon-proofed your bedroom during streaming hours!
Thanks to our wizard daddy, you have managed to cast a simple lock spell on your door and as well as a sound proofing
You love your broke idiot, but you did wanna keep the tone of your stream today a bit more chill, you wanted to have a proper Q&A with your fans to hopefully clear any bad vibes around your 3 month disappearance.
When Mammon has learnt your door was locked he definitely was a bit pissy, he knocked on your door loudly even and was calling out for you to let him in, but to no avail.
Bro he's scared.
He usually was allowed to enter, and you usually answered if you did need to be left alone for a bit, so just leaving him hanging got his mind racing and he had to press up his ear on the wooden door to try and hear if you were okay
When this continues on he finally resorts to getting help, but the only one in the house ws Levi, so he kicks down HIS door.
Levi boutta summon Lotan for interrupting him honestly
But as Mammon exclaim you weren't answering and he worried for your wellbeing, Levi rolls his eyes and scoffs,
"Idiot Mammon, they're streaming don't bother them…"
Streaming? why didn't you tell him???
Rude much.
He did huff and now was forcing his way to use Levi's PC for a moment
Can Levi stop him?
Nah.
He was busy on his console, and if he stood up now hed be breaking his world record so he was at a terrible state so he just resorts to threats of him drowning the Avatar of Greed if he does anything stupid on his PC.
He immediately logs in to your streaming platform and he watches for a bit,
You were more dolled up now just to look decent on stream, and he felt this jealousy rise as you interact with your chat, especially to those saying I love you's and stuff, and you even said it back? the audacity! You were his werent you? Were you replacing him with these nobodies?
He huffs as he realized that those who paid got their message highlighted, and thus, he starts donating. (Mind you this was Levi's account...)
"Mcccccc Open the dooorrr"
"Ill behave i promiseeeee"
"Cmon pleaseeee?"
Chat is c o n f u s i o n
NGL, they thought Mammon was a creepy stalker and red flags were being waved everywhere
but as chat was pondering who the hell he was, you can only sigh and look at the camera with that unamused expression, but ugh! you just KNOW hes doing that kicked puppy expression of his, and maybe it really wont be so bad
So you snap your fingers and say, "Okay MonMon, its open, Im giving you 3 seconds"
Mammon wasnt deemed to be the fastest out of his brothers for nothing
As soon as you got to '2', you were already tackled by the white haired male and chat went wild.
Now that you've shown your life in Devildom, maybe its time to introduce chat to your boyfriend no?
{How does he feel about your streams?}
You get paid to sit infront of a camera, do I have to say anything else?
But really though, as much as he enjoys the thought of getting so much cash from something so simple, he prefers the joy of being able to proudly exclaim that he was your first man!
ohhhh he thrives on the salt of your overly attached stans
but for those who fully support you, he always feels so mushy and shy when they say the ship you guys so hard
The fanarts has him WEAK (he may or may not have saved a few)
You usually do streams alone, but now you've allowed the door to be left open to let Mammon join whenever
Chat pogs when he enters with so much confidence, only for it to crumble when you kiss his cheek on stream.
Overall finds it fun to spend time with you, but just dont play scary games cause Lucifer might hang him upside down on stream.
* ▘▂▝ Leviathan*
{How did he know about your career?}
He is honestly the most attached to his D.D.D and he catches wind of almost anything going down in the internet, so your 'revival' being hyped up was something he definitely saw and he was just s wo o o ned
His Henry 2.0? a famous streamer?
Were you truly a blessing gifted upon him or was he dreaming?
He definitely didn't bring it up at first as he didn't wanna make it a big deal, but you notice hes been more in his head lately, and you have tried asking him what it was but to no avail.
You have to corner this little snake if you want answers and he eventually admits that he knew of your persona online and was incredibly shy to ask you to stream with him
He's a streamer himself afterall but maybe he doesnt stream as much as you do nor does he have as large of a following, so his intrusive thoughts attacked him and made him think that maybe since he wasnt as famous he didnt deserve to be in the same stream as you
Please tell him to join you and gib him kiss U3U
He'll absolutely m e l t
But now, as you make the announcement to your viewers and Levi to his, the internet explodes as a special collab stream was hapening between the expert gamer and avatar of envy of Devildom along with the beloved exchange student and streamer of the human realm
Your usual viewers reach between 10-15k, but as you start stream, that number boosts higher and beyond
Before streaming though, Levi was incredibly nervous, he'd picked the games for you to play that he knew you would enjoy with him, but his mind kept racing about whatthe fans thought, he didnt wanna disappoint them
But you had to remind him that whatever they say will not matter in the end as this was merely for fun, this was YOUR stream and you guys were gonna do what you want and nobody can have a say on it. (Maybe except Lucifer)
You usually talk for him with your bubbly personality, and to calm his nerves, he hs your pinky wraped around his where the camera can't see it.
Regardless, his thoughts subsided as you two delve into your stream that lasted a solid 7 hours, you definitely promised your chat that you and Levi will be doing more streams together from now on.
Once the cameras cut and yall are left alone, Both of you collapse on bed, and despite you being asleep already, Levi was just far too giddy as everything dwells on him.
Having a player 2 by his side now had never felt so intoxicating and he as just so lucky to have you.
{How does he feel about your streams?}
He obviously adores it, although some streams he wouldnt join just so he can play games on his own
He's still an introvert afterall, he needs his alone time
But he prefers that alone time with you, his Henry.
So when youre about to go stream, he kinda becomes a bit pouty, but with a simple promise of kisses (and maybe even more if youd like) he would let you go, but his attention would disappear from his game altogether.
He might just end up watching you instead
May or may not, at some point, just chat you and ask if its too late to join you
You do allow him to join you and play from the comforts of his room as both of you can simply play via internet, you give him the comfort to not turn on his mic or webcam either and you have no idea how he appreciates that.
Will definitely fight someone online when they start claiming you as theirs (-cough- stans) Please make sure it doesnt escalate to him summoning Lotan
Although the comments would often get to him, and as much as he can fight them online, he still does find himself pondering if they were true, so you need to give him a lotta lovin and reminder that he is your player 1 and no one else can ever fill that place.
------
Wow 3 brothers this time, what an improvement, anyways hope yall enjoy! I think its pretty clear who I simp for depending o nthe length of each lol, but do let me know if you guys want a part 2 for the rest of the brothers, or even the undateables!
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that-damn-girl · 4 years
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Our love
(Oneshot)
Sequel to Our Pup. Can be read as a stand alone too.
Pairing: Alpha!Dad!Bucky x Omega!Female!Reader
Words: 2200+
Type: Fluff.
Warnings: Mentions of sex(no smut). Not proofread.
Summary: Rebecca, Riley and Sarah get to hear a bedtime story, to which they have their own inputs to add.
A/N: This is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club 's HBC Dad AU Day. Inspired by this video. Hope you like it!!
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It was warm and nice, having your face pressed against Bucky's chest and legs tangled in comfort under the covers. As you both lay on your sides, the soft material of his night shirt felt slightly ticklish under your cheek. Your face was tucked under his chin and arms were thrown over each other's waist. It was the your and Bucky's prime cuddle time.
Though nobody else was in the room, his hold was a little possessive over you. You loved it, the weight of his hand on you, holding you tight and close. His embrace felt safe and secure, automatically relaxing you like nothing else.
The sweet melody of the music from his time dancing in the air was soothing after a long and tiring day. It hadn't been your taste, but having listened to them for years now felt familiar in a way which eased you in a sense of calmness everytime you heard it. Before you knew it, you had started humming along the gravitating tune.
Bucky felt your chest softly vibrate against his before he heard your sweet humming sound. Your toes tapped on his shin in accordance with the high notes. His smile widened further when the lyrics came on and you started singing along it in a low voice. He couldn't see you from his position, so he pulled a little back and adjusted so that your face was clearly in his view.
He enjoyed it, watching the peaceful look on your face and hearing you. The soft yellow light from the bed lamps cast such a beautiful glow on you that he swore he could just gaze at you like this for the rest of his life. His hand came up and brushed off the locks of hair shielding the side of your face from him. He cradled your cheek in his metal palm.
"Omega," Bucky called out to you gently. The cool vibranium thumb softly brushed your delicate features. You purred lightly.
"Yes, Alpha," You responded with a wide smile of your own.
"I love your voice." He said. You looked up at him to find his eyes, blue and brimming with love for you.
"Really?" You asked, heart thumping with giddiness at the praise.
"Yeah, but only when you talk. Cause you sing like a walrus, babe."
A quick slap to his chest and Bucky burst out in laughter. His eyes crinkled with mirth and his chest rumbled. His arms tightened around you again, bringing you close to him, "Babe, you're great in so many things, but singing is not your cup of tea."
"Yeah, alright, you don't have to rub it in my face, grandpa." You smirked, mischief shining in your eyes.
Bucky instantly stopped laughing looked at you with a teasing smile on his face, "Did you just call me what I heard you call me?"
"That's what you call a man over a hundred years old, grand-"
He flipped you on your back and held himself on his beefy arms above you, "That's how it's going to be?"
Your own teasing smile stared back at him, "That's exactly how it's going to be."
Painfully slowly, he leaned down. You wrapped your arms around him as he seductively whispered, "Well then, I guess I'd have to prove you wrong, 'mega."
"I'd love to be proven wrong, Alpha." You pulled his forehead down on your. As you were about to kiss him, a chorus of loud giggles, louder than the music playing in your room, reached your ears.
You head instantly turned towards Rebecca's room. Wide eyed, you turned back to face Bucky, "The kids are still awake?"
Bucky tried to stifle his chuckle, but couldn't, "Have been for the past hour, honey. Glad you noticed it now."
"Stupid enhanced hearing," You muttered under your breath before demanding, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Bucky placed a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose, "Relax, doll, it's not everyday they get to have a sleepover. Let them enjoy," He bent down and started kissing your neck, "And let us have our fun."
You struggled not to pull him up and have him kiss you senseless, "Bucky, it's way past their bed time. They shouldn't be up so late."
Bucky sighed against your neck. He didn't want to leave you, or the feel of your arms around him, or this bed drowned in your scent, but he knew you were right. He gave you a quick peck on the lips, "But we'll start right from where we left after that."
"Gladly," With one last peck on his plump lips, you shooed him out the door and to the kids.
For the second time that night, Bucky opened Rebecca's door to find three kids dressed in colourful pyjamas at three different corners of the room. Each had a big fluffy pillow of nearly their own height clutched tightly in their short fingers. They were lively with energy rushing through their veins and a joyous glow and gleeful grins on their chubby faces. Bucky knew sleep was the Hitler to their Captain America.
Upon seeing Bucky enter the room, one of them screamed, "Attack!"
He didn't know who it was, but he was soon tackled to the ground by a bunch of barely five year olds raining down blows of pillows from different sides. Half his body lay in the hallway and the other half inside the room. He could hear the tension free giggles erupting fron them.
He laughed as well and played along with them, giving out dramatic 'ooh's and 'aah's when the pillows hit him now and then, as if their assault seriously affected him. He covered his torso with his arms, contorting his face as though hurt.
After it went on for a short while, Bucky asked them to stop. Did they listen? Of course not. Bucky trapped each pillow under the weight of his limbs. The children tugged at it with all their might, but nothing happened. He said, "Come on, buddies, bed time."
Dejected, the kids left his side. Rebecca went back to her bed while Riley and Sarah moved towards the fluffy mattress laid out on the floor for them.
"Can we play for five more minutes, please?" Riley tried to negotiate.
"You said that an hour ago, champ." Bucky ruffled Riley's hair as he made his way towards Rebecca.
"You're no fun." His daughter made a pouty face at him.
Before he could clear yet another, incorrect if he may add, accusation thrown at him, Sarah piped up, "Yeah, Uncle Sam's much more fun!"
Oh no. Oh hell no. Sam was not going to be the funnier or the cooler uncle until Bucky's last breath.
Bucky wouldn't let that happen. Never.
Keeping a calm facade over the brewing storm underneath, Bucky very politely asked the kids, "Okay, let's do something fun." His teeth did not grind. Not at all.
They were each about to suggest something, but Bucky continued, "Which results in all three of you sleeping quietly. But don't worry, tomorrow we're gonna you whatever you wish."
The three shared glances with each other, contemplating the proposition. It must have appealed to them, because their eyes shone with such playfulness, Bucky was actually scared for a second.
"Anything we want?" Sarah prompted.
"Anything." Bucky shrugged, making himself believe that he was the coolest uncle, or father, anyone could dream of.
The children squealed in excitement. It gave a boost to his ego, knowing that he was the cause of their happiness. However, with the looks on their faces alone he understood he had signed himself up for a tiring field day tomorrow.
Bucky sighed, "So what do you want to do now?" He had his hands on his hips, imitating the dad pose perfectly.
"A bedtime story!" Rebecca spoke, which was followed by eager nods by the other two.
"Perfect," Bucky walked to the colorful shelf lined with books for occasions such as these. He mulled over the titles before pulling out one and sitting at the edge or the Rebecca's bed. The three children sat patiently across him.
"So today we're reading, 'I love you to the moon and back'."
"I love you too, daddy." Rebecca said. His heart burst with joy hearing his little pup say that.
Riley and Sarah joined as well, "We love you too, Uncle Bucky."
Grinning widely, Bucky opened the first page and skimming over the words, he turned the book around for the kids to see the illustrations.
In a much slower pace, and with a side of exaggeration to each word, Bucky started, "I love our time together as we start each happy day."
Riley started too, "Oh, I'm sure you'll love tomorrow." Bucky thought about how Riley was a spitting image of Sam not only in looks but in brains as well. The three kids passed giggles around and he already dreaded the coming morning.
Regardless, he continued, "I love our bathtime silliness - the way we splash and play." Leaning over, he booped each of their noses.
Sarah's eyes lit up with an fun idea and Bucky could almost see the bulb glowing on over her head. She clapped her hands, "We could go swimming tomorrow." Eager heads nodded again and confirmations were done.
Bucky moved on, not wanting to know what other ideas would spring up. He slowly raised his arm high as he spoke, "We'll climb the highest mountain tops," And a dramatic pause later, "Hold tight and you won't fall."
Rebecca, who was in the middle, looped her arms around her two best friends and smiled contentedly at them. Bucky his own smile.
Giving equal attention to each word, he proceeded slowly, "I love to share the magic of the shining skies above." He glanced up.
The three children animatedly craned their necks and glanced up along with him. Only finding the plane white ceiling of her room, Rebecca peered out the window, at Bucky, and up again, "Uh, daddy?"
"Yes, baby?"
"The sky is outside the window. Why are you staring at the ceiling?" The rest snickered behind their fists.
Bucky sheepishly looked at them. Sarah said, "Silly, it's because we can't see the sky due to the roof, but it's actually above us."
Slowly nodding, Riley and Rebecca looked at her as if she had solved the most important mystery of mankind. Thankful for the explanation, Bucky resumed, "And think of all the different ways that we can show our love."
"Like when we're touching noses." This time Bucky leaned forward as captured his daughter's nose between his index and middle fingers and gave it a firm shake. She scrunched her nose and attempted to grab his wrist but he pulled back in time.
"Playing chase," Bucky outstretched his arms made grabby hands at the children They squealed and giggled with innocent joy as they scrambled backwards to avoid his hold.
"Or seeing friends,"
"You're both my best-est friends in the world!" Sarah screamed.
The other two replied as high pitched as her, "You too!" And hugged the blonde with such force she fell back on the bed. The duo kept hugging her still. Arms were entangled one over the other, and they broke out in a fit a giggles.
"Our love is always with us, and it never ends." Rebecca made her way to Bucky and made herself comfortable on his lap.
"I love you again, daddy." She kissed Bucky's chin. Bucky's heart melted at the pure adoration in her voice. Her eyes were gleaming with fondness for him. Kissing her head hard, he looped his metal arm around her pudgy stomach.
"So snuggle safely in my arms;" Rebecca circled her short arms around Bucky's metal arm and rested her head against his shoulder. He placed his cheek atop her head and tightened his hold around her, keeping his princess in his protective hold, "our day is nearly done."
"I love you to the moon and stars, my precious little one." Bucky closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of having his pup in his arms, safe and secure. Forget the moon, he loved his daughter to all those galaxies Carol had travelled to so far and back. You too. He'd never let anything happen to his dolls. Ever.
Soon, the three kids were tucked under the covers and the lights were dimmed. Giving each of the lovelies a kiss to their forehead - with a longer one awarded to Rebecca - Bucky came out of the room only to find you standing in the hallway. A gentle smile adored your face as you leaned against the wall, "They love you, you know."
Bucky glanced at the trio through the slightly parted doors, his gaze lingering on the one brown haired princess. It was such a bliss to count the blessings he never thought he'd have. Another broad smile lighted up his face.
"Someone's going soft." You cooed. Bucky turned to you and grabbing your hand, he led you back to your room. Once the door was shut, he pressed you against it and took in your comforting scent.
"Let me show you Omega how not soft I am." Your neck was attacked with hungry kisses as his hardness pressed against you, "Don't think I forgot where we left from." You closed your eyes in ecstasy, fully intending to enjoy what you were about to get.
"Show me, Alpha," You whispered huskily in his ear. Growling, he took your lips in a heated kiss.
And man did you get some that night.
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shipmistress9 · 3 years
Text
The Chief And Her Bride
Fandom: HTTYD
Rating: E
Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid
Theme: fem!cup. femslash. fluff. smut
Summary: Astrid loves Hiccup dearly, but she never expected for their relationship to last. So it falls to Hiccup to convince her girlfriend that she won't let anyone separate them. Not even her own father.
AN: Finally! I've been working on this little story for ages, and now, finally, the first chapter is done. What do we have? Female Hiccup and Astrid, in a canon-like setting after HTTYD where Stoick lives, Valka didn't stay, and RTTE is semi-canon. I take what fits. This mostly was supposed to be a test for me whether I even can write femslash. I'm still practising, but I also like this story very much. Also, I thought a while about whether to change Hiccup's name or not, but in the end, I decided against it.
. o O o .
It didn’t take Astrid long to find Hiccup. There was only one place her girlfriend would go when she was stressed or upset, and so Astrid wasn’t surprised at all when she spotted Toothless’s black form lounging near the pond when she and Stormfly reached the cove. Hiccup sat to the side, her back against a rock, her good leg tugged under herself, and her eyes gazing unseeingly into the distance.
After landing, Astrid affectionately scratcher her dragon at her belly before sending her off to play. Then she sauntered over to where Hiccup sat, still lost in her thoughts.
“Hey,” Astrid greeted her as she got closer.
Hiccup blinked before turning her head, then gave her a warm if a little tense smile. “Hey.”
Astrid let herself slide to the ground next to Hiccup. “So… what happened?” she asked. There was no point in pretending nothing had happened; Hiccup had left the village without a word after talking to her father, and Astrid knew Hiccup too well to be fooled.
Hiccup gave a suppressed sigh. She reached for a fallen leaf and nervously picked it apart with her nimble fingers.
“This morning, my dad wanted to talk to me,” she eventually said, and Astrid nodded. She’d noticed that much. “It’s… After what happened with Drago, he wants me to be prepared to take over the village at any moment. Which makes sense, I guess, with how Dad almost got killed in that fight.” She looked up, her pretty green eyes meeting Astrid’s. “And I don’t really mind. I mean, I get it. I need to be prepared and all. It’s just–” She broke off, lips pressed into a thin line.
Astrid reached for Hiccup’s hand, entwining her fingers with her own. “What is it, babe?”
Oh, she had an idea of what Stoick had brought up for his daughter to be so upset. But, maybe, it was something else. Maybe they would have a last reprieve.
Hiccup swallowed. “Dad... He wants me… wants me to get married.” She scratched at her neck and gave Astrid a tense look. “He said that, for the good of the people, I should get a strong partner, someone who can help me carry the burden. Mum returning to live at her sanctuary must have hit him harder than he’s letting on.” Hiccup chuckled weakly, but quickly turned serious again, solemn even.
However, Astrid had barely listened anymore after Hiccup’s first words. Ever since they’d confessed their love to each other two years ago, she’d known it would come to this. Awkward as it had been at first, Astrid was never as happy as in the minutes she got to spend with Hiccup, feeling her touch, her kiss, her body against her own. She loved her, her wit, her intelligence, the way they constantly challenged each other in different ways. But right from the beginning, there had always been an end date for them. The village had accepted their relationship without much irritation, even Stoick. But that was probably because they’d all known it couldn’t last.
Slowly, Astrid withdrew her hand from Hiccup’s, hoping that she wouldn’t notice how much her fingers were shaking. This was going to be hard, for both of them. But she knew it would be even harder for Hiccup if she knew how much their inevitable breakup affected Astrid.
“So, it’s over then,” she whispered, nodding. Gods, why was her voice so brittle? “And I think Stoick is right, Berk will need strong leaders. We can’t only rely on the dragons to protect us. So, uh, did… did he already pick a husband for you? Which alliance would be the most beneficial? Dagur would certainly be interested. Or what about Throk? An alliance with the Defenders of the Wing could help boost your credibility as a female leader. I mean, nobody would ever doubt Mala’s ability to lead her people…”
She trailed off, a weird chuckle dropping off her lips even as she had to avert her face so Hiccup wouldn’t notice the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Gods, she couldn’t start crying now. She was strong and independent, a warrior, captain of the Berk Guard. A broken heart wouldn’t throw her off track, it was nothing.
Even though being with Hiccup was all she really wanted…
“Wait, what?” Hiccup’s words broke her out of her spiralling thoughts. She sounded… off. Confused. Lost. 
With a sigh, Astrid forced herself to meet Hiccup’s gaze again. “Well, we always knew it would end that way, right? Us, I mean. And… i-it’s okay. I won’t hold it against you. Berk comes first, and it’s your place to lead them. I just…” She let out a hiccupy sigh. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll ask Atali whether I can stay with them for a while, and—”
Astrid gasped when Hiccup reached for her hands again, a strange urgency in that gesture that made her look up again.
“What are you talking about?” Hiccup asked, confused. Her hands were shaking now, too, Astrid noticed. “I… I won’t marry either of them, no matter what Dad wants. I won’t give up on us! He didn’t choose anyone for me, wanted me to choose a partner for myself. And I already have. I—”
She broke off, biting her lip and her shoulders slumping as insecurity overtook her. Astrid had seen this expression so often on her… Out of reflex, her hands squeezed Hiccup; reassuringly. No matter how much her heart was hurting at the prospect of leaving Hiccup, she would always support her.
Hiccup looked up again, the expression in her eyes so pleading and vulnerable that it made Astrid choke. ”Astrid, I… I chose you.”
Astrid’s eyes grew wide. “What?”
Hiccup pulled up her shoulders, her gaze intensifying. “Everything we accomplished over the years, the Edge, the Dragon Hunters, Drago… I couldn’t have done any of that without you. And I thought… well… that it would always be like that. You and me, together. You’re the only person I can imagine spending my life with. So I choose you. If… if you want me?”
For a minute, Astrid could only stare, stunned. Then laughter broke out of her, and she nodded eagerly and stammered, “I… Yes! Yes, of course, I do.” 
But no matter how happy Hiccup’s words made her, the feeling only lasted for a brief moment , only until reality caught up with her again. Her shoulders slumped, her smile falling off her face. “But… it’s impossible,” she murmured.
“What?” Oh, Hiccup sounded so hurt.
It tore Astrid’s heart to pieces. Inwardly chastising herself, Astrid pushed her own pain aside, and said, “Oh, Hiccup… I’d love to tie the knot with you and stand by your side, you know that, right? But we can’t do that. Stoick won’t allow it. The traditions and rules are clear.” Her eyes were burning, and she looked away; she didn’t want Hiccup to see how sad she was. “Your father will insist on you marrying a man, someone to forge a political alliance, if possible. And you’d need an heir anyway. I won’t be in your way to fulfil your duty.”
Swallowing, Astrid tried not to think about it. Unlike herself, Hiccup had never been with anyone but her. Hiccup wasn’t even interested in men. The thought of her being forced into a marriage she didn’t want… it wasn’t fair!
“So-so you would reject me? You’d leave?” Hiccup’s voice sounded hollow, forlorn. So small and lost.
Weakly, Astrid nodded, shrugged. “I hope that you’ll be happy. As happy as you can be. But… I don’t think I have the strength to stand by and watch, at least not right away. And… maybe it’ll even help you settle in more easily, if I’m not around to remind you…” She paused, pulling away. “I hope you can forgive me one day, but–”
“No!”
Astrid looked up, scared of what she would see. She’d never wanted to cause Hiccup pain.
But to her relief, there was no pain in her eyes. All she saw there was the typical Haddock stubbornness, mixed with traces of excitement and joy. 
“No, ‘but’, Astrid. If this is what you want too, if you’ll accept me… then nothing will come between us.”
“But your father—”
Hiccup shook her head, her long auburn locks flying around, wild and untamed as always. “I won't let him come between us. He likes you, that much I already know. And he told me he’s happy to see me happy with you. So, if he still wants to separate us… then…” She took a deep breath. “Then he’ll have to train another heir.”
Astrid’s eyes widened. “You’d give up your birthright?”
“For you? Yes. I want to lead our people and I’m prepared for this duty. But only on my terms. I’ll do it with you, together. Or not at all.”
Astrid needed a second to let Hiccup’s words sink in. Then she let out a weak laugh and threw herself around her neck, knocking them both down into the grass. They kissed, an overwhelming sense of giddiness making them both giggle against each other’s lips.
When they came up to breathe again, Astrid’d mind was consumed by overwhelming happiness. Never had she even dared to hope for this outcome, but here now they were, and with this new assurance, she wouldn’t let anyone get between them, either. 
 She noticed that Hiccup’s hands were trembling, though, so Astrid took them in her own. She could sense how agitated she was, and breathed soft and calming kisses onto her knuckles. Sometimes, Hiccup needed a minute to get order into her thoughts.
“What’s up?” she eventually asked, looking up at Hiccup with a reassuring smile. 
Hiccup smiled back, though hesitantly, and her hands tightened around Astrid’s. “I was… pretty nervous, to be honest,” she said with a shaky laugh. “I wasn’t sure how you’D react, and… “ She shook her head, but then suddenly became serious. “Astrid… Why did you say that? Earlier, I mean. About how we always knew it would end that way? What was that about?”
Astrid bit her lip and averted her face. After Hiccup’s vehement confession just minutes ago, this felt silly now. With an embarrassed shrug, she said, “It’s… what I thought would happen, what I was prepared for. I love you, Hiccup, you know that, and these past two years with you have only deepened my feelings for you. But… well, I always expected we’d have to part one day, that this happiness I felt with you would only be temporary. That to become Chief, you'd enter a political marriage, or…” She trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
“Oh,” Hiccup said. 
She needed a minute to process, time Astrid used to battle down her own worries. She didn’t want for Hiccup to step down, knew how much the people of Berk meant to her. But that she was willing to risk her father’s anger for her meant a lot to Astrid. And maybe it wouldn’t even have to come this far. Maybe they’d be able to convince Stoick…
“So…” Hiccup eventually said. ”Throughout all this time, you thought we’d have to break up, eventually?”
Slowly, Astrid nodded. She looked up, searching for what to say, but never got the chance. From one second to the other, Hiccup was right in front of her, her hands cradling her face and her lips pressed to her own. Astrid gasped, happily surprised. Usually, Hiccup was much more timid, shy even, so her starting anything was rare. 
“So that’s why you sometimes acted so reserved,” Hiccup murmured against her lips. “And here I feared you wouldn’t want to stay with me.”
“What? You—”
But Hiccup interrupted her with another kiss. “Doesn’t matter. You spent two years thinking we couldn’t last. That I would leave you at my dad’s command. That I wouldn't do anything to stay with you.” She came closer, one hand caressing along Astrid’s face while the other landed on her waist, holding her in a light embrace. “Astrid, these past two years have been the happiest of my life. I can’t even put into words how much you mean to me, how empty my live would be without you. But while I was happy, you always worried, and I didn’t even notice.” 
Astrid wanted to object, to assure her that she’d been happy, too. But before she could get out even one word, Hiccup kissed her again, more energetic than usual, and it left Astrid breathless, happiness fluttering in her chest. Her hands came up to pull Hiccup closer, wandering along her soft curves, exploring her. Hiccup was always shy, hesitant about carrying things further, so it had become their routine that Astrid was the one to take the initiative. But when her hands reached Hiccups breasts, palming them through her tunic and playing with her covered nipples, she shook her head. 
“Today is my turn,” she breathed, joy and confidence dancing in her green eyes when they met Astrid’s. “Can I do this for you? Please?”
A little overwhelmed, Astrid nodded. She enjoyed taking the lead in their lovemaking, but seeing Hiccup like this, confident and eager to take over? It was something else. It meant that Hiccup trusted her enough to allow herself to make mistakes, and that was possibly a greater gift than anything else. 
They ended up lying in the soft gras, kissing, groping. Astrid revelled in feeling Hiccup’s soft curves beneath her hands and against her own body, the same as it had been yesterday, and yet, everything felt so new. More meaningful. Complete. 
Only slowly, they discarded one piece of clothing after the other. There was no hurry in Hiccup’s motions; she thoroughly appreciated every bit of revealed skin with kisses and caresses, leaving Astrid tingling all over. She tried to return the favour, at least a little, but Hiccup was too thorough, too distracting for her to do much but take her attention. Prior to being with Astrid, she didn’t have any experience with sex and intimacy. But she’d always been observant in everything, a quick learner, and this was no different. Hiccup knew which spots on Astrid’s body were sensitive and how to best stimulate them, had memorised her like a map, and it didn’t take much for her to turn her into a helpless and needy mess.
“Hiccup…” she mewled, hardly able to do more than cling to curvy hips or clutch at the grass beneath them.
But there was no reprieve. Hiccup was kneeling across her left leg, the right lifted and loosely wrapped around her waist. She was leaning down to distract Astrid with kisses, hot and open-mouthed, while her hand worked between Astrid’s thighs, slowly buy relentlessly. Long and nimble fingers caressed along her folds and brushed over her clit, making her body tremble with desire.
If Astrid had had the mind for it, she might have regretted teaching Hiccup about teasing and edging, about how to drive her lover insane with building pleasure. But as it was, Astrid’s mind was entirely empty safe for the wonderful, amazing, merciless things Hiccup made her feel. By now, her fingers were inside her, moving in and out in a pace just quick enough to keep her from calming down. She barely managed to open her eyes and look up into beautiful green eyes, Hiccup’s long auburn curls falling around them like a curtain. There was a flash of eager satisfaction in those eyes, a smirk tugging at full lips as she curled her fingers. Her aim was perfect, hitting Astrid’s g-spot and drawing a cry from her lips. Her back arched at the burst of pleasure, but it wasn’t enough to reach her climax, and it soon became clear that Hiccup wasn’t planning to let her soon, either. 
Astrid lost all sense of time, writhing and bucking beneath Hiccup’s confident ministrations for what felt like hours. It felt so good to give herself up and into Hiccup’s care. Astrid trusted her with no exceptions, and so she did the only thing she could, took it all until she felt like she would combust any moment now. 
“Oh, please,” she whimpered as Hiccup shifted the angle once again, just a tiny bit but it was enough to push her away from that edge once again. “P-please, Hiccup. I…” 
She couldn’t even form coherent words anymore, but it seemed to be enough nonetheless, Hiccup sensing that she couldn’t take much more and showing mercy. 
“Yes,” Hiccup breathed, her mouth at her ear, lips nipping at sensitive skin. Her movements sped up, fingers thrusting into her and always hitting the mark. Her thumb rubbed at her clit, over and over, until Astrid’s body became rigid, and the waves of pleasure broke above her. 
A cry tore itself from Astrid’s throat as she came, back arching and toes curling. Her hands clutched at whatever they could find, and her head rolled uncontrollably from one side to the other, the intensity of her climax almost too much for her to bear. It consumed her, head to toe, a sensation like lightning shooting through her body. It made her arms and legs shake, made colourful lights explode behind her eyes, and made her scream and yell without any filter. 
Once it was over, she only slowly found her way back into reality. Around her, the world was spinning and swimming out of focus, her body not fully reacting as it was supposed to. 
“That was… oh, wow. Amazing!” she gasped after a minute, still catching her breath. She finally managed to focus her gaze on Hiccup who was leaning over her, with a smug grin on her lips and her eyes beaming.
“Well, I had the best teacher.”
They both laughed, then Hiccup laid down next to her, both entangled in a tight embrace. 
“Just give me a few minutes, then I’ll get back to you,” Astrid murmured. She felt heavy, sleepy, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave Hiccup hanging like that. 
Hiccup chuckled, but it sounded strained. “No need for that now,” she said, her voice a little tense. 
Her arms tightened around Astrid, her finger digging into her arm as if to hold on to her. “First, he should talk to my dad.” 
. o O o .
AN: Sooo, that was that. :) Thoughts and comments highly appreciated.
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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years
Note
If you are taking requests. Reader is a chef that does at home cooking classes. Henry's family hired her to do a private cooking class for Henry's birthday. Henry decides that he needs more classes so books her for the month. Then takes her to Italy to source ingredients and wine.
Sweep Me Off My Feet, pt 1
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“Dance, sweetheart?”
You looked up from your after-dinner macchiato to see Henry standing before you, hand out in invitation, his radiant smile showing just a hint of shyness. He cut a fine figure in his linen shirt, open at the neck, no tie. 
Rose-gold street-lights lit the Venetian piazza, casting long shadows and an air of romance over the entire area, cloaking it in mystery.
The two of you had spent a dreamy day together, exploring the picturesque Island of Sant Erasmo. The biggest island in the lagoon, Sant Erasmo was famed for its delicious local produce and its wine. After meeting the local farmers and hearing about their lives and crops, you had enjoyed a private vineyard tour and wine tasting. It had been such a leisurely, beautiful day. You had tamped down your annoyance when dinner time came. You’d wanted your time with Henry to last forever.
Helplessly, you suddenly felt this idyll slipping through your hands, sand through an hourglass.
Too much, too fast.
The anxiety of it all had churned in your stomach all through dinner – a delicious seafood risotto, littered with fat, garlicky prawns and butter-soft scallops, with a side of freshly baked, herbed breadsticks.
“Really?” You asked, nervous. You were an excellent chef but an awful dancer. “Why?”
“Because we can. Everyone else is,” he insisted, a grin tugging at his lips. It occurred to you that you had seldom seen him so carefree. “I do love to dance, you know,” he added, cheekily, and the mischief dancing in his blue eyes drew you in, irresistibly.
You shifted, trying to fight the battle between your wish to dance in Henry’s arms, and your intense discomfort at doing anything that involved co-ordination in public.
Finally the hopeful, boyish look on Henry’s handsome face won you over and you took his hand. His fingers closed around yours; warm, reassuring. He pulled you towards him, spun you around for a second. Giddy, you leaned into him as the string quartet outside the café started to play a gentle waltz. You breathed in the now-familiar scent of him, the tang of coffee and a kiss of woodsmoke and cedar.
“This is absurd.” But you rested your free hand on his broad shoulder just the same, and let him lead you in the steps. Heat radiated off his body through the pale, grey linen shirt he wore, and you looked down at your feet. “When was the first time you waltzed?”
“I Capture the Castle rehearsals. They didn’t use the footage in the end.”
You looked up into his eyes. They looked almost blue-black in the half-light as he met your gaze.  “Shame.”
He laughed softly. “It wasn’t. I was twenty-two, all gangly limbs.”
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You’d seen the film. His character, Stephen Colley, was so beautiful in the flush of youth that it had hurt to breathe, looking at his rosy cheeks and lean build. “I sometimes – and it’s ridiculous – forget that you’re so…. Famous,” you breathed as he swayed you gently, confidently.
“Good.” His gaze dropped to your mouth, and that gorgeous tumble of chocolate brown hair fell into his face, a little long, a little messy. The way you liked it - that errant curl that teased his forehead was your favourite. “That’s what I wanted.”
The expression on his arrestingly handsome face – so naked suddenly, not a trace of artifice – made you bold suddenly. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. But you were in Venice with a man who made your heart turn over with joy with your chest. You were dancing a waltz in a piazza. Rose-gold light kissed everything, bathing the city and your heart in a kaleidoscope of fuzzy joy, and just for now, you would be brave. You would believe in magic, and you would believe in happy endings.
And you wouldn’t think further than this beautiful, vibrant, kind, man in your arms. He was solid and real and right now, he was yours.
Tears burned your eyes as your heart constricted. Right now, he’s mine. Yes, you would be brave.
And you would pay whatever cost would be levied later. And it would probably be high, but you suddenly couldn’t care.
“Is that all you want?” You tucked his tumbled hair back behind his ear. It felt so soft. That unruly curl sprang forward.
You’d surprised him. You knew because he held still for a long moment before continuing with the waltz. Someone else might not have noticed the slip, but you did. In some ways, you had never stopped noticing everything about him, ever since the day you’d met.
“Oh, sweetheart. You know what I want.” His words were so soft, they were nearly carried away by the notes floating off the nearby violins. But still you caught them. “You.” He swallowed and you watched the movement of his throat, transfixed for a second. “Any way I can get you. Any way you’ll have me.”
His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you a fraction closer. You pressed your face into his neck, loving the rasp of his stubble against your skin, knowing you had reached a tipping point. 
He wanted to make love to you. 
“Tonight?” Your words came out squeakier than you’d hoped. You wondered if Henry would laugh.
He didn’t.
“Tonight,” he confirmed, his voice dropping half an octave.
You stopped dancing, and he mirrored you . You both held still for a long moment. You closed your eyes, knowing that your decision was about to change everything between you two. Maybe forever.
Breathing in, you opened your eyes again. Henry stood before you still, so solid and real. And yours, for now anyway.
And you would take the now, for as long as it lasted. “Henry.”
“Yes, love?” He brushed his lips over yours, gently, a simple kiss without pressure, but a question all the same. He tasted of bitter black coffee, and of rich, sweet chocolate.
“Take me back to the hotel. Right now.” Before you could lose your nerve.
* * * * *
The rosy streetlights of Venice winked at you both as Henry navigated the maze of little streets. People gathered here and there, but the late hour meant it was mostly quiet. You could smell the salty edge of the lagoon, the heady scent of wine, the richness of chocolate and cream. Snippets of indistinct Italian reached you from far away windows.
Henry paused in a quiet alley to get his bearings. Behind him, the moon shone down on you both, bright and silent, hanging like a lightbulb in the endless black fabric of the night sky.
You slipped your arms around him as he pulled his phone from his pocket, bringing up Google maps. “Hmmmm. I swear it was just the next street along….”
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The alley was silent and dark. And really quite nice, as alleys went. Closed shop windows were lined with flower boxes, the wooden containers bursting with campanulas, ivy and heliotrope. Their perfume filled with the air, mingled with Henry’s intoxicating cedar scent. 
You felt…  brave. Bold. Aroused.
“What if we didn’t wait until we found the hotel? “ you asked.
Henry’s gaze shot to yours, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. “Sweetheart, we shouldn’t-”
All the pent up desire you’d felt for this man in the months you’d worked together bursting out of you like a dam breaking. You grabbed the lapels of his button-down shirt - Henry, chic and casual in a linen shirt with no tie and the sleeves rolled to his elbows just about killed you - and pressed your mouth to his.
Dimly, you heard the clunky thud as his phone fell to the street floor, unnoticed. He slid his hands around your waist and pressed you to him, and you thrilled to the evidence of his need for you pressing urgently against your stomach. “Oh my God, Henry,” you murmured, aching already, wet under your pretty dress.
“Are you sure, love?” he bit off against your mouth, and you thought he sounded like a man on the edge of control, his words guttural and raspy. “Be. Sure.”
He pulled back and gazed into your eyes, and you saw something just a tiny bit feral in the blue depths. It made the pulsing need inside you kick up several notches.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
With a low growl in his throat, Henry scooped you up. You scissored your legs around his waist as he ravaged your mouth, the day’s growth of whiskers on his cheeks scraping at you pleasantly. He moved his attention down to your neck and you arched to give him better access. 
Henry moaned your name throatily as you squeezed a hand between your body to cup him through the denim of his worn jeans.
“Want you, now,” you murmured, impatient, your heart hammering. 
Henry deftly leaned you against the brick wall, keeping you held up with one arm whilst he undid the fly of his jeans with the other. You tugged his shirt tails out of the denim, covering him a little, and then you let yourself play.
He fell into your hand, no underwear barrier, hot and heavy and large, better than you’d imagined, all steel in velvet, and you savoured the stuttered, shuddering breath he let out when you palmed him, stroking until you found a rhythm that made him chant your name like a prayer in that gorgeous accent. 
He boosted you up a little higher, easy with his upper body strength, and you used your free hand to pop open the buttons of your shirt dress so he could lavish attention on your breasts. Your nipples peaked at the kiss of balmy breeze of the Venetian night. His tongue was warm and wet and his touch there sent a direct spiral down between your legs.
“Now,” you whispered urgently. You kept one arm around his neck, teasing the hair curling at his collar anchoring yourself as he reached down and toyed with you, working your thin cotton panties aside to feel how wet you were. You knew what he’d find and your heart raced as he groaned against your neck. 
“Baby girl, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”
You mewled a response and a hot rush of pleasure filled you as he circled the tight bud at the apex of your body. And the sudden, sharply delicious orgasm made you gasp out loud. You were beyond caring if you were discovered, the pleasure eclipsing any small doubts you had.
Henry brushed a gentle kiss over your mouth before he slid slowly, painfully slowly, inside you. You tilted your hips up just a little, and he pushed right into the hilt.
“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, and the expletive in that cut-glass British accent just destroyed you.
Then he started to move, bottoming out each time he thrust back in, and all coherent thought flew out of your head. His pelvis brushed your clit with each thrust and you bit your lip, trying desperately to be quiet, and only partially succeeding.
It was over quickly, both of you too aroused to last long. Your muscles convulsed around Henry’s cock, and you bit down on the curve where his neck met his shoulder to keep from crying out. Moments later, Henry followed you over the cliff, groaning into your hair, his chest heaving with the effort of being quiet.
You wound down slowly together, floating back to Earth. Henry gently set you back on the ground, frowning.
“I meant to have you in a bed, the first time.”
You grinned, feeling like a goddess, leaning up to kiss him, your body still trembling from the tiny aftershocks of really good sex. “No, but now we can enjoy round two at our leisure in the hotel.”
His delighted laugh echoed into the balmy Venetian night, and you held hands and walked the rest of the way back together.
******
Two months earlier
Your boss called your name and you looked up from the day’s menu to be prepared. Cooking was your calling, no doubt about it, but even working as a sous chef in a five-star hotel could be a drag when the clientele could be so exacting.
“Everything okay?” you asked.
Your boss beckoned you into his office and you crossed the kitchen briskly in your chef’s whites.
The best-looking man you’d ever seen waited in the tiny manager’s office, all dark hair and smouldering blue eyes, broad shoulders and lean hips.
“Mr Cavill, this is the best sous chef I’ve ever had,” your manager began, adding your name.
The stranger held out a hand, a smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t wait to work with you.”
To be continued....
Tagging some folk who may like this: @chamomilebottom (thanks for the gifs!) @brexrif @mary-ann84 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @hnryycvll @henrythickcavill @henry-cavill-obsessed @ohjule @iloveyouyen @summersong69 @ly--canthrope @the-soot-sprite @littlefreya @dancingwendigo @fishcustardandclintbarton @gardensofwhimsy @wondersofdreaming @dr-kayleigh-dh @mrsaugustwalker @andahugaroundtheneck @pinkzsugar @geralt-of-baevia @radaofrivia @princess-of-riviaa 
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ratedbangtann · 4 years
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𝐅𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 | 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙠𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙭 𝙋𝙡𝙪𝙨 𝙎𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 
"𝙵𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗' 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍..."                                 
Pairing: Jungkook/Plus Size Reader Word count: 8.1k Warnings: size kink, body worship, spanking, switch!jk, oral sex (f), finger fucking, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie
a/n: any and all teasing directed at Jungkook in this fic is merely friendly banter. i DO NOT believe any of the boys have a problem with plus size girls, and they do not in this fic either. any teasing is simply banter directed at Jungkook to make him shy and blush. they would tease him just the same if he had a thing for girls with piercings etc. 
in no way are any of the comments made meant to hurt or offend anyone. this fic was written in the hope that it would boost some people’s confidence and be inclusive of larger framed girls (like myself!)
                              "Seriously, you want to watch this again?" Hoseok pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as Jungkook excitedly presses play on the remote, sitting back down on the couch between Yoongi and Jimin with his bowl of mixed candies.
"You're obsessed," Yoongi states with a monotonous groan.
"It's a good movie though, Jin hyung; back me up!" Jungkook tries to gather support from his hyung. Luckily, Jin was also a fan. In fact, it was he who insisted the group watch it to begin with.
"I'm with you, Jimin. I love it. Remember when we played Wembley in July? I had to do Freddie's thing!" Jin slaps his knee as he laughs at himself, the others smiling and shaking their heads at their elder.
Yes, the boys had been coerced into watching Jungkook's favourite movie, Bohemian Rhapsody, for the nth time. He was mesmerised by Queen, completely in awe of Freddie's stage presence and his ability to control a crowd, but also by the way he had dealt with all his demons and never showed it professionally. He often repeated the show must go on in his head in times of stress or hardship.
Scene after scene played out on the screen, song after song that Jungkook sang along to, word for English word. He knew them all; he'd listened to them enough. He understood now how international army had the patience to learn their lyrics when they didn't speak Korean; when you love something enough, you'll find the patience it takes.
And while the others had protested originally at the thought of watching this damn movie again, by the end, they were all feeling that same inspiring emotion elicited by watching Freddie prancing around at Live Aid, knowing full well he was dying. Both Jin and Jimin had joined Jungkook in wiping away tears before they had fallen, whilst Taehyung hadn't bothered to hide them. The poor boy was sobbing as he clutched onto Namjoon's arm.
"I never get tired of this, damn," Jungkook smiled.
"What's your favourite song then, Kookie?" Jin asked. Jungkook thought for a moment, musing over the various tracks he knew and loved so well, until he settled on one.
He wasn't sure he should tell the truth, it'd be easier to say it was Bohemian Rhapsody or Another One Bites The Dust, because he knew he'd be made fun of for his real favourite. The song that hypnotised him into lewd imagery in his head that he so badly wished he could experience. The song that, quite frankly, played up to one of his biggest fantasies.
"Fat Bottomed Girls," he had said timidly, avoiding eye contact from his hyungs for fear of their reaction.
Hoseok broke the silence that followed, unable to contain his giggles. Damnit, Jungkook thought, I knew I should have lied...
Namjoon nodded in understanding, smirking to himself at the admission. Tae barely paid attention, still trying to calm himself. Bless him, he never could get a hold of himself once he started to cry... Yoongi barely reacted, a simple "hmm," escaping.
"It's a damn good song," Jimin agreed, slow clapping with approval.
"It is, a big butt is appreciated in this christian household," Jin laughed, but he meant what he said sincerely. He loved a large, perky butt.
Jungkook however, loved a little more than that...
"Aw Kookie, you're blushing. Someone's got a thing for a big girl, huh?" Hoseok continued to laugh, never meaning any harm of course but teasing the younger like he would a little brother.
It was true though, Jungkook loved big girls. He was hypnotised by them; just how their bodies moved, the little jiggle of their curves with every step... He dared to imagine how a big girl would feel under his touch; the squish of her flesh, able to grab handfuls of her as he worships her from head to toe. The ripple of flesh as he'd spank her bare behind, fucking into her from behind... The after-sex cuddles, nuzzling into her soft, warm flesh so comfortably. God, he loved the thought.
The boys teased Jungkook mercilessly after that evening; even when he had thought they may have forgotten about it. Nothing would be mentioned for a few weeks, until a larger girl was walking past their table in a restaurant, or a big girl appeared on their television; it gave each member ammo to tease poor Kookie until he was a brilliant shade of beetroot.
His hyungs never meant to upset him, and they certainly had nothing against anybody who was plus sized, nor did they ever mock anyone for their weight. They knew, of course, that beauty goes much deeper; but it was so fun to watch Jungkook blush.
Weeks passed since his half-admission, and Jungkook still adored the song that triggered his fantasies. Every time it came on shuffle, his mind was filled with images of beautiful big girls, dancing to it in a bar with their friends, singing to it at karaoke, humming it whilst cooking breakfast for the him after a long, hot steamy night, moaning out sinful expletives to it as it played as he ravaged them...  
"JUNGKOOK!" Namjoon banged on his bedroom door, scaring the shit out of him as he lay on his bed, palming himself through his sweats to the song and his imagination. "Stop jacking off to the Michelin man and get out here." Shit.
Jungkook paused the music on his stereo and waited a moment in order to conceal the very obvious hard on he had given himself with his own imagination, and made his way out to the living room, dragging his feet in a sulk.
"What?" he grunted.
"Pleasant greeting, especially seeing as we're about to give you your birthday present," Jin scoffed, an envelope in his hand.
"S-sorry... Birthday present? It's not for a week?" he rubbed the back of his neck, confused and still slightly groggy from his earlier states of consumed lust.
"Yeah but, we need to give it to you now..." Jin held the envelope out in front of him, and the younger gladly took it, opening at as the rest of the boys looked on in anticipation for his reaction.
"No way..." his eyes widened, reading over the words on the page over and over. "London?! We're going to LONDON?!"
"Yeah, all of us. We've never really done any real touristy things there, and well, seeing as you're totally obsessed with Queen we thought you might like to spend some time where they came from? Visit some of their history, if you will?" Namjoon smiled, giddy with glee at the younger's happiness.
"I'd love to, yeah. Whoa... London," his eyes gleamed with joy as he continued to stare at the plane tickets in hand. "We leave tomorrow? Jesus it's so sudden."
"Yeah, so you should get packing. Two weeks, Kookie, Pack for two weeks," Tae shooed him back into his room. Jungkook went to turn, but decided to run at the group and pull them all into a ridiculous and awkward seven-way hug.
"This is awesome, thank you so much."
The brothers loved seeing him so excited, each wishing him an early happy birthday and patting him on the back or ruffling his hair.
And then Jungkook scurried back off to his room to find an empty suitcase and stuff it in the most chaotic organised mess known to man.
***
Jungkook spent days dragging the boys through London to different spots of significance to queen's legacy, giddily jumping from target to target. Along the way, they hit up bars, a couple of typical tourist spots, but the majority of the time was spent doing what Jungkook wanted; this was his birthday trip, after all.
But today, was Jungkook's birthday. And the boys had something... planned.
9pm rolled around, and the boys had eaten and gone back to their hotel rooms, telling Jungkook to dress up relatively smart ready for a night out.
Where, he had no idea. But he trusted his brothers, and knew whatever it was would be fun.
Looking at his reflection in the mirror in the ensuite of his room, Jungkook was pleased with his outfit. His black jeans clung to his muscled thighs, the maroon silk shirt he was wearing tucked into the waistband with the top two buttons undone, revealing a little skin and a gold key pendant. His long hair drooped in front of his eyes, parted in the middle.
He fiddled with the strands, seeing if they looked better tucked behind his ears or not; he couldn't decide.
A knock at the door to his room stopped him messing with his hair, knowing full well it was his brothers ready to take him to wherever they had in mind.
"Jungkook, open up! Come on!" It was Jimin, yelling through the door.
He grabbed his leather jacket that he'd flung over the end of his bed and made his way to the door.
***
"Please say you're joking..." Jungkook whined in the back of the cab, looking out at the neon light that spelled out 'Burlesque' flashing above a staircase leading down into a basement club.
"Nope," Hoseok grinned, opening the door and letting out the four of them. Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi had followed behind in a separate cab.
Jungkook stepped out last, reluctant and shy.
"Hyung, seriously... I'm not so sure about-"
"What, you shy? Embarrassed? C'mon, this is like, British at it's best, right?" Hoseok encouraged.
"I thought it was French?" Jin argued, coming up behind the group.
"Actually the term started in Italy, like 400 years ago..." Namjoon, ever the intellect, started to reel off a history lesson.
"Okay fine I'll go in, if it'll stop this," Jungkook waved his hand in Namjoon's general direction, making a bee line for the door to the steps. The others followed, grinning and giggling at Jungkook's already flushed cheeks.
They had done this on purpose. He was surprisingly coy about anything sexual with them; the others? Overtly sexual. As open as you could be. But Jungkook never got over his shyness. He . could have a laugh and a joke but the second it got serious, his cheeks would flush, his hands would get clammy and his heart would race.
Perhaps, because he was a kinky little fucker, and he didn't want people to know just how much...
But the boys still liked to mess with him. He was the baby, after all. So, burlesque club it was...
When Jungkook reached the bottom step, he stopped at the cloakroom, seeing a man in a booth waiting to take admission.
"How many, sir?" he had asked. Jungkook looked at the man for the moment; a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a red waistcoat, black lined eyes and a small tuft of hair sticking out from under a black bowler hat, reminiscent of the kind Charlie Chaplin wore.
Jungkook thanked his lucky stars that he'd been paying attention to his English tuition lately, not wanting to wait for Namjoon to translate. In fact, he'd gotten pretty damn good at it... Fluent, even.
"Uh, seven please."
"Have you booked?" he opened a diary.
"Yes, we have. Under the name Kim," Namjoon appeared beside Jungkook, smiling kindly and offering up ID of his passport. The attendant nodded, striking the name off the book.
"Okay, booth number four, front and centre," he grinned at the group of men that had now gathered, "Enjoy!" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Jungkook had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He was just doing his job after all.
The men wandered into the club, Namjoon finding the table with the golden number four at the edge. The men settled in the booth, with Jungkook placed strategically in the middle. The cloakroom attendant had been right; front and centre.
The lights to the club were dim, a spotlight trained on the stage at the front. Large red velvet curtains with gold trimmings hid most of the stage from view, waiting for the first act. Waiters and waitresses, all wearing black dress shirts and red waistcoats like the doorman, wondered the floor freely, taking drinks orders from the tables that were sat waiting. Punters were sat along the bar, mostly middle aged men there alone, or couples who hadn't booked a table.
Almost every table was full, both men and women alike. Groups of women were just as frequent as the men; girls' nights and bachelorette parties side by side with working class men out of an evening and bachelor parties too. The atmosphere was likened to that of a concert, before the lights go down and the artist walks on stage; the dull hum of conversation and anticipation filling the space.
A waitress came to take the order for the table, hurriedly scurrying off to collect their drinks and returning around 5 minutes alter, a tray perfectly balanced in her hand.
The boys got chatting, passing the time before the real show started. Jungkook sat nervously, an anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure about all this, he felt so vulnerable. He understood that burlesque was a beautiful art form and not just stripping; this was different. But something in him just felt uneasy about watching girls dancing and stripping, and he was sure it was because his hyungs were there to make fun of him for it.
He watched the time on his watch, ticking closer and closer to 10pm; he was sure that was when it was due to start. It must be...
And he was right. 10pm, and the bar lights dimmed, the spotlight shone, and the curtains slowly drew back, revealing a stage covered in beautiful girls, poised and ready to move as the music began. Their outfits were damn near sinful, and had all of the boys drooling into their cocktails; the beautiful red rhinestones that covered every inch of their bras, corsets and panties, the huge black feathers that fanned out behind them and stuck out of the top of headdresses, the black fishnet stockings held up by the red suspender belts, the classy red heel pumps... All were taken off one by one to the music, leaving each beautiful lady stood in underwear, stocking and vibrant red nipple tassels, swinging around suggestively.
The audience clapped and cheered as they finished the introductory number, the first act done with after 15 minutes of teasing, dancing, contortion and stripping.
The next act was introduced by a host; a male dressed like a ringmaster, of all clichés. This was acrobatic; two beautiful blonde women, performing beautiful movements in aerial routines, backflips, front flips, splits, cartwheels and using each other's bodies to create shapes the natural body should never be able to form.
Jungkook was of course, in awe at the show, watching as act upon act did their thing after the host's introduction; dances, teasing, acrobatics, lip sync routines, live singers; it was incredible to watch. And yes, very, very sexy.
He couldn't help but let his mind wander, much like every other person watching. What would it be like to be with one of these dancers for an evening? What would it be like to have someone put on a show like this in private?
Another show ended, and all seven of the boys clapped in appreciation of the group of girls who had just finished their rendition of Marilyn Monroe's 'Lazy'.
The host wondered back onto the stage, clapping too.
"Beautiful, just beautiful. Well, next up is the girl you've all been waiting for... Ms. Devereaux!"
The place erupted.
A standing ovation as the lights went down, cheers and whistles filled the air and Jungkook and the others sat in quiet confusion, clapping and waiting for something to happen on the stage to explain the incredible reaction from everyone else in the room.
The noise died down, people sat in their seats once again, and the music began...
"Aaaaaaare you gonna take me home tonight?"
Jungkook sat bolt upright, suddenly very aware of himself and surroundings.
"Oooohhhh, down beside your red fire light."
He had to be hearing things.
"Aaaaaaare, you gonna let it all hang out?"
Nope, this was happening.
"Fat bottomed girls you make the rockin' world go round!"
The spotlight hit as the familiar guitar started to strum, landing on you, your back to the audience, shaking your hips and tapping your foot to the guitar's rhythm.
Jungkook could feel the heat rising in his face, knowing full well that every pair of eyes at his table were now focussed on him, and yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from where you stood on stage. He hadn't even seen your face, but god, he knew you were beautiful.
Your outfit was all black, elegant and yet so delectably scandalous. You wore a steel boned corset, moulding your delightful rolls into an hourglass figure to be envious of. It was black, laced at the back by black ribbon with small ruffle details alone the top. It dipped at the front, a clear v-line to show off the deep cleavage create by pushing your breasts together. From the hips to the back was covered in a feather train, cutting off at the back of your knees.
Suspenders hung from a garter belt hidden underneath the corset that attached to simple black stockings, the stitching running up the back of each of your legs following every little bump of cellulite and the natural curve of your calves.
Black satin panties covered your most important areas, the material shining against your beautiful round ass as you shook it in the spotlight to the music. Shiny black pumps stomped on the stage to the beat, along with a fancy cane you were holding in your right hand. Gloves made of the same sheer material as your stocking covered your forearms up past the elbow, an air of such sophistication added to your ensemble. And finally, a top hat with a couple of black feathers sticking up from the back.
Jungkook's jaw was hanging open, a comical 'o' shape of absolute shock etched into his face. The rest of the boys mimicked him, except they were looking at him, not at you on the stage.
The song continued, Freddie's oh so familiar voice singing out about beautiful big girls while you strut across the stage, flirting with the table in the front, dancing and hitting every beat, using your pure sexuality to entice every member of the audience as they whistled and clapped with glee.
"I've been singing with my band, across the wire, across the land, I seen every blue eyed floozy on the way, hey!
But their beauty and their style, went kind of smooth after a while. Take me to them dirty ladies every time..."
Jungkook was bewitched, watching as you continued your number; so sexy, swaying your hips and using your cane as you slowly took one glove off, followed by another. He loved the red lipstick you were wearing, imagining it smeared across his own neck with you biting and nipping at his skin to leave purple bruise marks... He watched you slowly taking off the smaller accessories of your ensemble, wishing so damn hard that it was him who would be able to do it instead.
When the chorus kicked in again, the club erupted to sing along. Skilfully, you undid the bow in the ribbon lacing your corset together, and started to undo the clasps at the front with one hand as your twirled your cane with the other. Before you let it fall, you threw it to one side, twirling so the audience didn't quite see your bare breasts covered only by black nipple tassels. You had more to take off before you finally revealed yourself...
At his table, the other members were getting rowdy like the rest of the club. They knew the song well, thanks to Jungkook, so sang along where they could, waving their arms around and dancing in place. But Kookie sat still, staring, mesmerised and imagining all the sinful activities he would just love to do with you.
He couldn't help himself; watching the way your hips swayed, your ass bounced, your thighs jiggled... It was turning him on to no end, and he was so desperate for you. To him, you were an absolute goddess, everything about you so beautiful. He'd never seen anyone like you before.
As the song neared its end, you were practically nude; the heels had been kicked off, the stockings taken off with the garter belt following, the top hat discarded and flung into the audience.
You kept yourself fairly concealed, your back to the crowd until Freddie shouts "GET ON YOUR BIKES AND RIDE", and you span around dancing to the guitar and Freddie's ad-libs as the song drew to a close, the tassels spinning and swaying, every beautiful roll of yours jiggling so perfectly.
Jungkook watched in awe as your danced around with your cane, practically nude, showing off your beautiful body. He could feel himself hardening, straining against the tightness of his jeans that he was grateful were so tight, there was no way anyone would be able to tell he was actually hard...
He had to meet you. He had to. If nothing else, just to tell you how beautiful he thought you were.
As the number ended, you posed at the edge of the stage, looking front and centre at Jungkook. Everybody in the room was cheering, clapping, whistling, all on their feet. But Jungkook stayed in his seat, and it caught your eye. You noticed just how dark his eyes were, how hooded they looked. You knew that look; it was lust. He was totally under your spell. So, being the showgirl you were, you smirked at him and winked, with a little blow of a kiss in his direction, before the lights went out and you exited the stage.
You had a few other numbers that night, a couple of different songs to do; some solo, some in groups, but each time you noticed Jungkook still staring, still spell bound. You found it quite amusing; such a handsome, muscled yet lean guy, incapacitated by a plus size burlesque dancer.
Cute.
The final number included all the performers, wrapping up the night in a beautiful display of acrobatics, live vocals, contortion, dancing and of course, mild nudity amongst a blur of feathers, rhinestones and tassels.  You took your final bow with your colleagues and friends, and made your way backstage to turn yourself back from Ms. Devereaux into y/n, ready to step back out into the club to mingle with the regulars and staff you knew and loved so much until closing.
Back on the floor, Jungkook felt almost like he was floating. It may have been the precarious amount of cocktails he had sipping on throughout the night, but he was sure that it was you he was intoxicated by.
As his brothers sat chatting and continuing to drink, enjoying the night - and occasionally making jabs at Jungkook for his reaction to your numbers, - Jungkook sat dipping in and out of the conversation, he attention elsewhere. He kept looking over to the corner of the club, a door with a 'stage door' sign on and a man clad in all black with an earpiece in one ear standing watch outside. He had to try...
He excused himself from the table, Namjoon and Tae having to stand to let him out of the booth. They assumed he was on his way to the bathroom, until they watched him head straight for the stage door.
"What the hell is he doing?" Yoongi asked, confused.
The others shrugged, watching intently.
The bouncer at the door held a hand out to Jungkook, who stood awkwardly, hands plunged into his pockets
"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, hands crossed in front of him.
"I-I was... um, is it possible to speak to one of the dancers?" he asked, nerves making him stutter over his words.
"Which one?"
"Uh... Ms. Dav-Daver..." he couldn't quite remember your name completely
"Ms. Devereaux?" the bouncer knew who he meant, thankfully. Jungkook nodded. "I'll let her know she has a fan," the man smirked, pressing a button on a radio he pulled from his back pocket and speaking into it, "Mr. Vandross, I have a gentleman here who would like to speak to Ms. Devereaux." The radio beeped and static poured out.
"Okay, 10 minutes," a male voice came back through the device.
"Now worries," the bouncer replied, shoving the radio into his pocket again. "10 minutes, sir. If you'd like to wait by the bar. Ms. Devereaux's will have a mojito."
"O-oh, okay..." Jungkook wasn't sure exactly what just happened, or what he expected to happen, but he turned back towards the bar and took up an empty stool near the end, ordering a drink for himself and your favourite cocktail. He watched the hands of his watch tick by minute by minute, anxiously tapping his foot against the bar stool, until he saw movement beside him, taking the stool next to him.
"Hello," you smiled, taking the mojito that Frankie the bar tender had brought to you as you sat down and taking a sip. Jungkook was taken back a little bit, still very much in awe of your beauty. You had kept your make up on, but now were wearing a knee length bodycon dress that hugged you in every place you had so proudly shown off throughout the night.
"H-hi..." Seeing you up close like this, being able to take in every feature of your face as well as your body, created a tsunami of nerves Jungkook hadn't expected. You were even more beautiful now, if that were possible.
"I was told you wanted to see me. What can I do for you?"
So much, Jungkook thought.
"I just wanted to say that... well, um- y-you're really beautiful and very talented." He played with the cocktail stirrer in his glass as he spoke. You smiled sweetly at his kind comment. Clearly his first language was not English; you could tell by the way he paused between words to think. It was endearing to you, something so cute. He was trying so hard, trying to talk to you as best he could.
You could tell you were making him nervous by the way he bit his lip and fiddled with his long hair, pushing it back and letting it flop back into place.
"What's your name?" you asked, curious to know more about this absolutely gorgeous man who looked like such a confident soul by appearance, but was downright terrified now he was in front of you.
"J-Jungkook," he stuttered again. Aw.
"I like it," you mused, and he hung his head as he smiled at your compliment. "Jungkook, you seem nervous," you placed your hand on his knee, feeling just how tight those jeans were. His eyes darted to your hand, electricity sparking at the contact.
"S-sorry, Ms. Devereaux. I just think you're so..." he wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. Beautiful wasn't enough; in fact, he was sure he didn't have an English word in his repertoire that could describe how gorgeous you were.
"Please, Ms. Devereaux is my stage name. I'm y/n, call me by that," you removed your hand from his knee, taking hold of your cocktail and taking another sip. "I'm flattered you think of me so highly. I noticed you, y'know. On stage I mean. The way you looked at me..." you leaned a little closer to him, so close he could smell the perfume you had sprayed before meeting him, "like you just wanted to fuck me," you whispered.
Jungkook's head snapped up, making eye contact with such shock...
"I-I'm sorry?"
"The look on your face, it was...primal. You wanted me, you were thinking about it, picturing it. Were you not?" you challenged, leaning your elbow on the bar and leaning into him a little more, keeping your voice low and so god damn seductive he was falling deeper and deeper into that imagination again.
"I-I..."
"It's okay, you can say it..." you teased, pressing your free hand against his thigh and feeling the taught muscle straining. Wow, you thought, those thighs... You would be more than happy to let him use those thighs against you however he liked. "Do you want to fuck me, Jungkook?"
He took a moment, thinking carefully of the pros and cons of this situation. Not that it mattered, he answered without paying attention to either.
"So much," he practically growled. You smirked, watching that darkness return to his eyes.
"Then why are we still sat here?"
Immediately Jungkook took your hand, downed his drink and without a thought to the rest of his brothers - who had all been watching from their booth in awe - took your hand from his knee and pulled you out of the club.
On the surface, you hailed a black cab down, climbing in the back with Jungkook in tow.
"My place or yours?" you had asked, and Jungkook barked the hotel name at the driver.
The whole car ride was laced with so much sexual tension. You had a moment of what the hell are you doing, y/n? that you brushed to the back of your mind. No, this wasn't like you. You had never taken a punter home before, never slept with anyone you met at work. But this guy... You couldn't pass this delicious specimen up.
You placed your hand on his thigh once again, a little higher than before, squeezing the muscle as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, using the close proximity to nuzzle your hair. Whatever shampoo you used was intoxicating to him. You could feel his hot breath on your ear, taken by surprise when he started to nip at the lobe and suckle lightly.
He wasted no time when the cab pulled up outside the hotel, passing far too many notes to the driver as he pulled you out with his arm around your waist. Already, he loved the way it felt under his touch, the squish just as delectable as he had imagined.
The both of you had been holding back since the cab ride but when he finally got you in the elevator alone, he couldn't stop himself.
Catching you off guard, he pushed you into the corner, looming over you with such animal lust you thought he might take you right there and then. Instead, he crashed his lips down onto yours, finally getting to taste you. His hands groped at your hips pulling them closer to his own in an attempt to grind on you, but the tightness of his jeans meant the friction he desired was further away than he thought.
The elevator dinged and doors opened on Jungkook's floor. He was too caught up in you that he didn't move; you had to push him with a giggle and direct him out into the corridor.
"Which room is it?" you laughed, looking both ways as if the room would be basking in a golden glow and obvious to you if you just looked hard enough. It wasn't.
"This way," he pulled on your hand in the direction of his room, digging in his pockets for his wallet and key card to get in.
Pulling you into the hotel room, he slammed the door shut behind the two of you, kicking it shut. You surprised him by pushing him up against it now, getting him back for trapping you in the elevator.
You kissed him again, going a little slower than Jungkook may have liked, but you wanted to savour the moment. Besides, you had been teasing all night; it was your job. Why would you stop now?
Using your tongue to lightly graze against his lips, you silently told him to open up, diving in further to deepen you kiss. Jungkook chuckled to himself; you tasted like your mojito. He pulled back for breath, resting his head back on the door and looking down at you through his lashes.
Your red lipstick had barely smudged, only the slightest trace he was ever there. I'll have to try harder, he thought.
A few deep breaths and Jungkook resumed the kiss, cupping your rounded face with one hand to create an intimate moment between you. It was sweet, but you were running out of patience and the lust was building and building.
Grabbing hold of his leather jacket, you slipped it off his shoulders, throwing it to the side. Grabbing fistfuls of the silk shirt, you pull him as you step back further into the room until the edge of his bed hits the back of your knees. Your hands make light work of the buttons on the shirt, undoing them and exposing his chest and abs. Holy shit, the abs.
Untucking it from his jeans, he rips the material from his torso for you, his lips never leaving yours as they moulded together so desperately.
He breaks you apart once again, spinning you round to have you stood with your back to him. His hands trace from your hips, up your waist to the zipper at the back of your dress. Slowly, he dragged it down, undoing the material to expose the bra straps and flesh hiding beneath. You pulled the sleeves off your arms pushing the material off you, down your hips, wiggling them as you slipped out of it. The dress hit the floor, and you're now stood in front of him, your back to him, in simple lace lingerie; a stark contrast to the rhinestones, glitter and feathers from hours before.
Jungkook's hands slowly lifted from beside him, slipping around your waist to feel you, needing to touch the beautiful ripples of flesh around your hips and tummy.
"You feel so soft," he whispered into your ear, trailing kisses down your neck and shoulder, his hands wandering over your body. You reached behind you, unclasping your bra to drop to the side of you, leaning back into Jungkook's touch as his lips trailed back up to your neck, suckling on the skin.
His hands raised from your waist to meet your now free breasts, loving the way they felt in his hands. And you had to admit, this was possibly the most erotic foreplay you'd had in a long time. Jungkook was skilled with his hands, and you core ached to find out just how good with his hands he could be...
You turned to face him once again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you, pressing your bare chests together as his arms enveloped you, loving how squishy you felt.
Your lips reconnected, your tongues doing that same familiar dance as before as he pushed you again, forcing you to sit on the edge of the bed below him. You crawled back, enough so that he had space to kneel between your knees on the mattress and hover over you, his long hair tickling the skin on your forehead and his key pendant dangling between the mounds of your breasts.
He kissed a line of wet, sloppy kisses down your neck again, suckling and biting but using his tongue each time to soothe the sting of his teeth. Before long his mouth was on your breast, suckling at your sensitive nipple with an outrageous amount of care. his actions elicited the first real moan of the evening, unable to contain your pleasure any longer.
His lips continued their assault south, leaving little red marks along your chubby tummy that you were sure would turn purple given time. He spent time there, simply kissing, biting suckling at your chub, and despite the intimate actions, you never felt at all insecure about your weight like many other sexual encounters had made you feel. In fact, you felt empowered.
He was worshipping you, in all your beautiful rubenesque beauty.
Your core was aching for him, the wetness pooling in your panties the longer he spent adoring your body. You wriggled a little under him, uncomfortably aroused. He must be feeling it too, the strain against his jeans getting too much to bare, but he soldiered on, only caring about you and your wellbeing. He wanted to please you so much.
His kisses lowered again, reaching the space where your tummy protruded the most just above the lace of your panties. He looked up at you again through his lashes, his eyes as dark as they had been when you were performing. He was asking - begging - for your approval... And of course you gave it, spreading your legs wider for him to settle between.
His lips touched your thighs, peppering the flesh with kisses. He loved the way they jiggled a little with every small movement you made, every squirm under each kiss.
Suddenly, his kisses concentrated on your lace covered pussy, the heat of his breaths sending such wonderful shivers up your spine; finally some contact. He pulled the fabric to the side, revealing only part of where you needed him most. He kissed the bare skin, your juices coating his lips in a beautiful gloss; it suited him well.
He sat up momentarily, pulling the fabric off your legs before he lunged forward, pouncing on you like a cat on its prey. He had tasted you on his lips and immediately needing more. He couldn't stop himself.
His lips covered your mound, his tongue darting out between your folds to lap your juices up, tasting that sweet taste oh so completely. Your breath fell short as your back arched, the warm wetness a brand new sensation that you could only describe as emphatic.
"J-Jungkook," you whined, breathless as his tongue circled your clit, the nerves reacting accordingly.
"Mmm," he hummed from between your thighs, using his strength to hold them down, squishing at the flesh. He knew how to used his mouth, and every damn part of it; his lips, his tongue, even his teeth, grazing the bundle of nerves gently to elicit another reaction.
"Oh, fuck, it feels so good..." your hands bunched in his hair, pulling at the long strands. The sting he felt only spurred him on, loving the feeling of you controlling him like this.
One of the hands clutched around your thighs let go, snaking around to plunge two long fingers into your entrance. The intrusion was surprising, but most welcome, stretching you out so well as his mouth continued attacking your clit. He curled them, tapping up on the soft cushion inside you that made you pulse with need. Fuck, he was too good at this.
That delicious feeling was growing in the pit of your stomach, your pussy throbbing rhythmically as he brought you closer and closer to the edge; tapping and curling his fingers, working his mouth harder, sloppier on you.  
"Sh-shit... Oh, my god. I'm- I'm gonna..." you weren't making any sense audibly, but your body's reaction was translating enough. Jungkook knew you were close, and somehow, he kicked into high gear as he fucked your pussy with his fingers harder.
Something inside you burst, like someone has gripped a full water balloon tighter and tighter until it exploded. The metaphor was spot on, the sheets completely soaked as your pussy got over-excited, squirting more arousal around Jungkook's hand and dripping down his chin.
No one had ever made you do that before; even Jungkook seemed shocked as he sat up, wiping his mouth, watching you regain some modicum of stability.  
"H-how? What did you do?" you asked. "I didn't know I could do that," you laughed, trying to gain your breath back.
Jungkook just grinned in response, a shit-eating, smug grin, before he was attacking your lips with his own again, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You'd barely had any time to recuperate, but you absolutely were not going to stop him.
Now it was his turn for some relief.
He wasted no time undoing the leather belt on his jeans and popping the button and zipper. You tried to help, your hands getting in the way a little but eventually taking lead to pull the tight material from his hips, exposing the thighs you marvelled at earlier that night. He scrambled to remove the rest, pulling off his boxers as he did so. Versace, you noticed. Very nice.
But now, he was like you; completely nude, completely exposed.
As soon as you saw the size of him, your cunt ached again. You needed him, to feel full. He was of average length, but certainly thicker than any man you had been with before. You could practically already feel the stretch...
"Turn over," he demanded, all worship lost on you and now, he needed this; his fantasy. You did as you were told, flipping over onto your stomach and raising your ass into the air for him, giving him a delicious behind view of your pussy and outrageous bubble butt. "Fuck," he whispered as his hand grazed the skin of your cheek; this is what he wanted, what he'd always wanted.
Gently, he tapped the flesh, testing the waters but watching as the skin rippled, just as he had imagined it would. His cock leaked a drop of pre-cum at the sight.
When you giggled a little in response, he took that as the consent you had meant it to be to spank a little harder. When he did, you squeaked a little, reacting to the sting. You loved it. you wanted it harder. You wanted branding.
"Fuck, you're incredible," he said, lining his head up with your entrance, ready and dripping for him again already. The delightful stretch you felt as he pushed into you was euphoric, sending your eyes rolling back into your head and your arms almost giving way underneath you. His fingers dug into your ass, his nails creating little crescent moon shapes in your skin.
It took all his willpower not to lose control right then, knowing you'd need a second to adjust having only been used to two of his fingers before. You silently thanked him, and when you were ready, started to bounce your ass against him to gain the friction you both needed.
Jungkook needn't move; you were doing the work for him, every pound of glorious jiggle bounding in front of him. He watched in amazement, feeling nothing but pure pleasure as you moved on his dick, but he could only take it for so long until he needed control back.
He needed to pound into you the way he had imagined. And so, he did.
Gripping onto your love handles, he pulled your hips back onto him, his balls slapping hard against your pussy. It felt fantastic, and god, did you love being controlled like this. You cried out at the movement, egging him on to please, please keep doing that.
He pulled his hips back again, before slamming back into you with force. Your ass rippled at the action and my god did he love it. He needed to see more of it, that beautiful jiggle.
As he fucked into you from behind, his hand collided with your ass check with much more force than before, sure to leave a red hand print like you had hoped. You cried out, biting down on the sheets underneath you to keep the screams from getting too loud.
With him spanking at your ass and drilling into you with such ferocity, you knew you wouldn't last long. Especially after the first powerful orgasm he had given you.
But he pulled out of you completely, using all his strength to flip you over again. He crawled back on top of you, positioning his hip in-between your thighs before pistoning his hips forward and impaling you on his length again. Jungkook had decided he needed to see your beautiful face, your fucked out eyes and your pink flushed cheeks when you came around his cock. He wanted the intimacy back that you can't get from behind. He had got his wish, and now he needed to be close to you.
The sweat on his forehead had gathered and matted his hair to his face, making him look even more fucking god-like than you even thought possible. You pushed the hair out of his face as he thrust up into you, grinding your hips together as he did. His eyes were glazed with lust and staring straight into yours that you could barely keep open. He loved how you looked, how you bounced under him.
Your hand moved from tugging his hair back to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips desperately as the two fo you got so close to your untimely end. You wished you could both go for longer but there was too much to get excited about, too much to turn you on to be able to prolong the inevitable.
"Y-You're so beautiful, y/n. So, so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against your lips between groans and grunts of animalistic nature.
"K-Kookie," the nickname rolled of your tongue without thinking, followed by a moan that told him you were getting close again. He knew he wouldn't last much longer the second your walls clenched around him. But he didn't want you to miss out on your second high, not on account of him.
"Touch yourself for me," he instructed, "please..." his begging tone was surprising but so charming, and you'd be evil to ignore him. You slipped your hand between the two of you, drawing pleasant circles over your clit as he continued to fuck into you.
With the new sensation, you had seconds left. Your back arched up into him, pressing your bodies together. You couldn't control your squirming anymore, knowing that what was coming was going to be earth shattering.
Jungkook growled as you clenched again, lowering his head to your breasts and biting gently down on one of your nipples, kneading your breast with his hand. Too much; it was all too much. You could feel yourself dissolving into pleasure beneath him.
Your nerves seemed to to catch alight, like a burning ember had met gasoline inside your body. Your breath hitched in your throat silencing your moans and every muscle clenched tightly as it all hit at once. As stage one of your orgasm played out, stage two came in what felt like electric shocks hitting you multiple times, rocketing through you and pulsing. Your legs convulsed, muscles twitching and the like someone had pressed unmute on you, you let out the most tremendous moans of bliss.
Jungkook kept thrusting, losing his rhythm as he watched you come undone. It turned him on so much, and when your pussy started to pulse around him that was it for him; beautifully warm spurts of cum painted your walls as his body went rigid. He grit his teeth, a long, low grunt erupting from the very pits of his stomach.
It took you both a few moments to regain some sense, breathing hard and heavy. Jungkook had to use all his upper body strength to keep him from collapsing on you, still reeling from the most intense orgasm he thinks he had ever had.
"Shit..." he huffed, looking up to see you beet red, panting and completely fucked out. His arms ached so much he couldn't hold himself up anymore, collapsing into your soft body and snuggling into you with exhaustion.
"Are you okay?" you asked, still panting away like a dog in ferocious sunlight. He nodded against you, still breathing hard himself. "Well... that was- that was incredible. You're incredible."
"Thanks..." he chuckled. "I... I'm here for another week, y'know..." he looked up at you, waiting for a response. You hummed in approval.
"Thats at least another... six or seven shows," you grinned. If he was insinuating that the two of you were going to continue these little hotel escapades for the remainder of his stay, who were you to say no...
"Tomorrow, you're bringing all that shit back here with you." He wanted the feathers, the rhinestones, the glitter, and he wanted it littering his hotel room floor. "And that cane, too..."
"A private show, huh? I'm sure we can arrange that. Any song requests?" you teased.
"Fat bottomed girls," he replied. "Absolutely, every fucking time. Fat bottomed girls."
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gallavictorious · 3 years
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Seeing that bts of Noel and Cam being silly with their phones, it just genuinely makes me so happy that they actually like being around each other, like i feel like it would devastate me to learn that they hate each other or dislike each other and I’m glad they get along well
I know! I get quite unreasonably giddy with it as well! Whenever we get a picture or video of them casually talking or chilling on set between takes it just gives me such a boost of happiness. And I prefer the more candid photos, or the playful ones like last night’s video, to the more staged stuff. (But, you know, I love those too – both is good! XD)
It’s a little curious, because why should it matter – as long as their performances are good, what difference do their feelings for each other make? Still, it does matter somehow, and as long as this seeming transference of affection causes joy rather than distress, I think we should just embrace it and have what fun we can! However, if at one point you find yourself feeling actually devasted because two actors have a tense relationship it might be a good idea to practice some cognitive strategies to seperate your enjoyment of the characters from your emotional investment in the actors. Easier said than done, of course, and the cost of caring enough about something for it to bring you joy is often the potential for getting hurt because you care so much. Life’s hard. 
Fortunately, I don’t think we have to worry about that in this particular case because Cam and Noel appear to have genuinely fun together, and yeah, I’m very glad of it! 
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izzisanauthor · 3 years
Text
Siren Song
A Prodigal Son fanfic by IzzIsAnAuthor (izzygrace07)
Based during episode 1x05 - "The Trip"
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"Why is everyone moving in slow motion?"
Malcolm says it casually as if an altered passage of time is an everyday occurrence, and Gil's eyebrows furrow with concern. He should have known that Malcolm would go against orders and talk to Estime early. It shouldn't have even been a surprise when he found his two younger team members at the club he specifically told them not to go to; when a case gets personal, either will rarely stand down.
Gil takes a step closer to Malcolm, placing a protective hand on his shoulder and leaning in to speak. "You okay, Bright?"
He watches as Malcolm's eyes widen, a quick array of emotions crossing his face that range from terror to overwhelming happiness. His usually kempt hair is messily tossed, reminiscent of the bed head that Gil has grown a deep adoration for. He doesn't often get to see Malcolm this way. After all, Jessica would never let him leave his apartment looking anything less than the nines.
Malcolm's hand lands on Gil's shoulder with purpose, his grip strong and secure. His lip is quivering as he says, "When my dad was arrested…" He stops, seemingly to calm down his emotional state. He gulps before continuing. "You showed what a good man looks like. What a good man is."
The hand on Gil's shoulder lands gently on his cheek, cradling his face while Malcolm stares lovingly. It's intimate enough for Gil to falter his breathing, the air getting caught in his throat. Usually, these interactions are had behind closed doors and drawn blinds, hidden from the rest of the world. Nobody, not even their families, has any idea what kind of love the two men share, one that goes further than anyone would expect. If this had been any other time, Gil would remove Malcolm's hand and continue to reprimand him for disobeying direct orders. However, the dilation of Malcolm's pupils and the specks of white powder clinging to his suit tell him that doing so right now would have absolutely no merit.
Gil glances over to Dani and his eyebrows raise. "He's high as a kite."
Malcolm seems shocked by the accusation, but it fades into giddy instantly. A bright, beaming smile crosses Malcolm's face and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, "I'm higher than a kite!"
Gil lightly grasps Malcolm's wrist and pulls the hand off his cheek. The moment he does, the kid's eyes visibly line with tears and for a moment, Gil worries that he's about to break down. Luckily, Malcolm remedies that sadness by grabbing onto the sleeve of Gil's jacket with his free hand, an impish smile on his face.
"Come on, let's go home!" the consultant exclaims with newfound energy, tugging at the sleeve. "I feel like I could go thirty rounds!"
Gil blanches. His eyes immediately dart to Dani, who is watching them with worry. She opens her mouth to speak, lips stretched into an awkward smile of sorts, only to close it again. She doesn't have to say anything; the pity is clear as day on her face.
Gil clears his throat. "What happened?"
"Gunfire!" Malcolm articulates. "I got on the ground with Dani, it started to snow, and now, I feel like I could run a marathon!" He gasps, grabbing Gil's shoulders and leaning in close. In a half-whisper, as if he's had some kind of grand realization, he says, "I could be a top."
Gil pulls away from Malcolm, praying that his face keeps its usual colour. His worry for Malcolm overshadows most of his other thoughts and worries, but in the deep, selfish parts of himself, he wants to take Malcolm with this sudden energy he's gained. Not eating much and having little sleep results in poor stamina, so when the two decide to get intimate, they'll rarely go for very long. Now, however, seeing his boyfriend dripping with desire is enough to make his heart pound and his blood rush to areas he would prefer to keep under control in public. Gil chastises himself internally for feeling even remotely excited while Malcolm is in this state.
Dani lets out a sharp exhale. "Cocaine use can lead to poor judgment and increased sexuality. He probably doesn't realize that what he's saying is wrong."
Malcolm looks offended at the comment, turning to Dani with lowered eyebrows. "That's not nice, Dani. I can have sex with a man if I want to. Because…" He turns back to Gil and throws his arms around him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Sex is amazing. And Gil is amazing!"
He raises his head and stares at Gil, expression changing into something more serious. He grabs both sides of Gil's head this time, forcing their gaze to stay locked on each other. In a voice as gentle as a lamb, Malcolm puts his entire heart into speaking.
"You're amazing."
They're two simple words, but the look in Malcolm's eyes amplifies the meaning. They hold so much affection and passion and pride, absolute love. Gil's restraint is being put to the test, a gruelling effort. It only becomes more difficult when Malcolm hugs him again, only this time, Gil is hyper-aware of the half-hardness pressing against his thigh.
He looks up to Dani and sighs, pushing down his dangerous thoughts and returning his focus to the more important situation. "We'll talk about this tomorrow," he says, ignoring the sweet nothings Malcolm mumbles into his ear. "You're not off the hook, Powell. I'm taking him home to make sure he comes down from his high."
Dani nods. "You've got it, Gil."
He turns his head towards the broken window, destroyed amidst the shooting. "Go help JT look for anything that could help us figure out who started the shooting. Message me with any leads."
"I'm on it." She is quick to head towards the scene, evidently remorseful for what happened to Malcolm, needing a way to atone.
Gil lets out a heavy breath, patting Malcolm on the back. "Okay, Bright. Come on, we're going home."
Malcolm pulls away quicker than lightning, his face lit up with childish joy. "Finally!" He smiles devilishly. "I have flavoured condoms."
"And we'll use them on a different day, once you've sobered up," Gil whispers, grabbing Malcolm's wrist and rushing him through the club. The night air is cool and crisp, a complete contrast to the warm, soiled air in the building. He helps Malcolm sit in the passenger seat before heading to the driver's side and starting his car.
~+~+~+~+~+~
When they arrive at Malcolm's apartment, the younger man practically marches through the door like he's on a mission, pulling his coat off with vigour. Gil, with a small sigh, closes the door as he follows him in.
"All right," Gil says, pulling off his jacket. He watches Malcolm discard his expensive article at the bottom of the staircase and gives a disapproving shake of his head. "The best thing you can do for the seven hours or so, just stay calm and drink lots of water."
Malcolm looks towards his living area and he perks up, inhaling with excitement as he takes off towards the coach. "Or!" He leaps up onto the back of his sofa, taking a moment to balance himself, and thrusts his hands out towards his collection of murder weapons. "We throw axes!"
Gil pauses, eyebrows shooting up as his eyes widen incredulously at Malcolm. "What?"
Malcolm turns to face Gil, pointing at him excitedly. "You and me. Broad bladed axes." He steps down onto the leather cushion of his couch, as if walking on a couch is a completely normal thing to do, and holds up a hand with his fingers splayed. "I have five!" He stops. "No, six… Doesn't matter, we have plenty."
Gil approaches the island and pours himself a glass of scotch. It's going to be a long night. "No," he says sternly.
He hears the sound of Malcolm shutting something and speaking, voice pitched and full of animation. "God, this feeling! My neurons are on fire!"
Gil takes a long sip from his drink, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose. For someone with poor self-care skills, sleeping and eating especially, Malcolm has a lot of energy. It's like the cocaine boosted the effects of his second wind. It reminds Gil of Dani years back when he would watch over her, drugged and falling. At the start, she was off the walls and full of childlike joy. But, as time passed and she became reliant on it, she was paranoid and terrified, either backing away from Gil with tears in her eyes or holding onto him like he was her saving grace. The memories only fuel his concerns for Malcolm after tonight; the thought of him in such a dark place, especially with the trauma he's experienced, makes Gil's chest tighten with anxiety.
When he looks up, Malcolm is heading his way on quick feet. He has that look in his eyes, the one from the club, the one that showed nothing but absolute love. "You know," Malcolm says, "people say that dopamine triggers pleasure. But really, it's about…"
He is suddenly in Gil's space, arms wrapped loosely around his neck and only an inch of space left between them. Gil doesn't want to encourage Malcolm's drug-induced lust, but still instinctively puts his hands on Malcolm's hips, pulling him closer.
"...Desire," Malcolm finally finishes. Gil's heart skips a beat at their proximity. The intent behind the word is obvious, and the sultry tone Malcolm entangles into his voice makes the temptation harder to resist. He's like a siren, singing out to Gil with his entire being. The song muddles his mind, clouding his judgment in fog and starving him, desperate for the taste of Malcolm.
Within seconds, Gil has Malcolm pushed up against the island and their lips are crashing together hard enough to leave bruises. It's passionate and messy and their hands wander across the familiar territory of each others' bodies. Gil runs his hand through Malcolm's hair and grips tightly, releasing a moan from the young man's mouth. It only increases volume when Gil bites down on Malcolm's lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. He grabs at his boyfriend's tie with impatience and practically rips it from his neck, moving to undo the waistcoat and the button-down shirt.
Gil lifts Malcolm onto the surface of the island and stands between his legs. The bare chest before Gil is free to be marked, previous love bites and hickeys having healed over the past few days. He takes Malcolm's skin into his mouth, sucking mercilessly along the collarbone. Malcolm props his hands upon the island behind him and throws his head back with a gasp. The noises he makes send blood rushing down Gil's body and strengthens the desire to hear more of those sexy sounds.
Gil licks his thumbs before dragging them along Malcolm's nipples, feeling the skin perk up underneath his touch. With a strong buck of the hips, the tip of Malcolm's restrained erection pokes Gil in his stomach.
Somehow, against all odds, that physical touch is enough to snap Gil back to himself, regaining his previous hyper-awareness to Malcolm's arousal; most importantly, to the cause of it. The events of the club make their way back to the front of Gil's brain and within moments, the two men are apart. Both are coated in sweat and panting like animals, and Malcolm's face is flushed a brilliant red.
"What's wrong?" he asks gently between breaths, sitting up and putting his hands worriedly on Gil's still-clothed arms.
Gil feels guilt flood his system and chastises himself. He let his wants overshadow his morality, so much so that he nearly had sex with his inebriated boyfriend. It would have been–it is sexual assault. Knowing Malcolm, he probably wouldn't be mad at Gil; the young man understands that he can be annoyingly persistent even when sober. However, that doesn't cut it because Gil would never be able to forgive himself for taking advantage of the best man he's ever come to know.
With laboured breaths, Gil finally says, "We can't do this, Bright."
Malcolm seems completely oblivious to the problem, furrowing his eyebrows with bewilderment. He pulls his hands away and Gil can see the self-consciousness making its way into Malcolm's head. "What happened? Did I do something?"
Gil sighs. He holds out his hand, helping Malcolm down from the counter. He then wraps his arms lovingly around him in a protective hug. "No, kid. You didn't do anything." He pulls away and takes Malcolm's head in his hands, forcing their eyes to lock. "But I can't have sex with you like this. You're not in your right mind."
"B-But…"
"Hey." Gil pushes some stray hair away from Malcolm's face. "If our situations were reversed, you'd say the same thing to me."
Malcolm appears to take a moment to think about that idea, blinking slowly like a machine that's processing information. For a split second, it makes Gil wonder if that was enough to get through to the kid or if his words were falling on deaf ears. Fear begins to creep into the back of his mind as he imagines Malcolm begging to continue, dripping with sex appeal, and Gil is too weak to turn him away. He's seen the pain Malcolm has been through, the betrayal he's been forced to endure. Gil can't become another one of the demons; he's supposed to be an angel.
He's brought back into the moment with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Arms wrap tightly around Gil's torso and Malcolm speaks to him with pure appreciation. "Aww, thank you!"
Gil's heart flutters with love and admiration. He brushes back Malcolm's bangs and plants a kiss on the kid's forehead. He wants to thank Malcolm for being so understanding, for recognizing just how heartbroken Gil would feel if they had made it further than they did. Gil wants to tell Malcolm that he is the most empathetic man Gil has ever met. He makes sadists have mercy, and for that, Gil loves Malcolm with every fibre of his being.
He says nothing, knowing that Malcolm wouldn't remember any of this. Instead, he returns the embrace and holds his boyfriend closer, thanking God for the favourable outcome to the situation.
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thisbrokenmask · 4 years
Text
00:00
Title: 00:00
Pairing: Taehyung x reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: N/A.
Word Count: 2.2k
Song inspiration: 00:00 (Zero O’Clock)
A/N: It’s been a long time since I’ve written fanfiction, and this is the first time I’ve ever posted any of my writing on tumblr, but I hope people enjoy this and anything else I might post. I wanted to take part in ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event as I used to write a lot of my old fanfiction in accordance with songs, so this is right up my street in terms of how I write. I also wanted to get back into writing again during the lockdown, and this gives me something to work to. I have my list at the ready, so we’ll see how many I can get through!
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No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get comfortable.
Your blanket felt too restrictive, curling around your ankles and clinging to the skin of your feet, yet a phantom breeze seemed to ghost over them when you tried dangling them over the edge of the bed. The pillows propped up between your back and your headboard seemed to vengefully slouch every time you got them just right, causing you to try and blindly rearrange them before you eventually let out a huff, turning around to push them back into place. The warm white light coming from the lamp on your side of the bed struggled to reach the pages of the book rested on your raised knees, but sitting even an inch closer made the printed ink glisten to the point of almost disappearing.
You knew you were tired. Your eyes were acting up even with your glasses on, refusing to focus on the words you were reading or pass them onto your brain, forcing you to reread the same sentences over and over to get them to register.
Your tiredness was just the latest addition to a long list of emotions that you could feel coursing through your body. The significance of today had been having more of an affect on you with each day that it had grown closer, and now that it was here it was hard to comprehend just how you were feeling. You were excited but nervous, relaxed that it was finally here but tense that something, somehow, might go wrong in some way. You had felt it all day in the way that a dull ache had slowly spread through your back and your jaw had gotten tighter with each passing hour that you’d been at work that day.
You glanced over the empty side of the bed next to you to check the clock that sat on the bedside table, trying to push down the clench in your heart at the sight of the undisturbed comforter and undented pillows.
23:09
Not long now, you think to yourself.
At some point in the next hour, Taehyung would be walking in through the front door and would make his way up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom in which you now sat, and there he would fall back into your arms. After three months of video calls and texts that came through at all hours of the day, a consequence of his constantly changing time zone, it was safe to say you were both looking forward to seeing each other.
If you could stay awake, that was.
You shook yourself awake when you felt your eyelids start to close. Sitting up and stretching your arms above your head in a bid to give yourself that extra boost of energy you so desperately craved, you let your mind wander to consider what might happen in that moment that you saw each other again.
You knew there was a very good chance you would cry. As much as you’d assured him you were fine while he was away, you knew you’d been miserable more often than you’d admitted to Taehyung. Sure, you’d told him about the bad days at work and that time you’d forgotten your umbrella two days in a row and gotten caught in a downpour on both occasions.
But you’d kept from him the days when you’d just been sad. You knew it would break his heart to know you were sad and he wasn’t there to comfort you, to cheer you up any way he could, so you’d constantly assured him that you were fine; missing him, but fine. You could manage with the video calls and the selfies he sent you and you had plenty of pictures of the two of you together to look back on when you just really needed to see his face. Pixels were better than nothing, especially when he couldn’t just come home.
He’d worried enough already before the tour had even been mentioned that his career was too much for you, that he wasn’t able to give you the relationship he thought you wanted due to how time-consuming his job could be. He had grown so scared of losing you that he’d almost begun avoiding you, somehow believing that every time he saw you would be the time you’d call it quits. It had taken the rest of the members to get him to see sense, Jin firmly but lovingly telling him that he was pushing you away even more by trying to protect himself. You’d been together then, both of you in Seoul and seeing each other regularly, so there was no way you’d let him doubt your relationship when he was on the other side of the world.
You knew he must have known anyway, but the two of you seemed to have an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t talk about it for fear of opening floodgates that couldn’t be closed again. You didn’t tell him about the day during his third week away when your manager called you into his office because even your colleagues had noticed the change in you. You’d been so sure that your ability to pull off a believable fake smile had almost been perfected by that point that you were surprised to hear the genuine concern in your manager’s voice. Of course, they didn’t know who your boyfriend was - if they had, it might have made much more sense to them - and so you’d tried to explain as truthfully as you could while still being vague enough to not give anything important away.
A quiet rattling of keys from the other side of the apartment broke your reverie, your book tumbling off your lap and down to the floor, immediately forgotten. The muscles in your legs twitched as you heard the door close again, debating whether or not you should run out and meet him when you heard the gentle shuffles of him putting his bag down and taking off his shoes as quietly as he could.
He probably thought you’d fallen asleep, you mused, 23:49 blinking back at you when you glanced back at the clock. You hadn’t realised you’d been lost in your thoughts for so long, but the building excitement in you made it easy to forget you had even been restless less than an hour ago.
A shiver ran up your spine and danced across your shoulders as you picked up on the sound of padded footsteps approaching. You couldn’t move your eyes away from the bedroom door if you tried, your mouth slowly curling up into a smile when you heard him hesitate outside the door.
He definitely thought you were asleep.
You saw his hair first, or at least the bright red cap that sat backwards over it and the tufts of blond that poked out from underneath as he slowly peeked his head around the door. That alone nearly brought a squeal into your throat, the reality of him actually being here hitting you full force, but it was silenced the moment his eyes met yours.
As soon as he realised you were not only awake but sat up and looking at him, he straightened up and pushed the door open wider to bring his body into the room, his face immediately breaking into a grin. You felt like you were shaking with the giddiness that was running through your veins, your mind so clouded with the thrill of him being here in front of you that you weren’t able to think about what you should do or say.
As if Taehyung even gave you a second to do anything anyway.
Pure joy bloomed in your chest when you heard his giggle as he threw himself onto the bed, his hands immediately finding your waist and pulling you into him. His face was buried in the crook of your neck before you’d properly wrapped your own arms around his shoulders, your legs immediately folding around his back to pull him in even closer to you. You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes despite the way your cheeks were already hurting from the size of your smile, your fingers desperately roaming to feel as much of him as possible, to prove this was real.
It was the first press of his lips against your neck that made the first tears fall as you looked up at the ceiling, one hand pushing the hat from his head and sinking into his hair and the other clinging to the back of his shirt. Your legs were already tangled up with his, all four limbs unable to keep still in their urge to feel as much of each other as possible.
Your shuddering breath caused Taehyung to pull his face away from your neck to finally look at you in close quarters, and when the lamplight hit him you could see how brightly his eyes were shining.
“Hey, baby,” he whispered, a small smile on his lips as he withdrew a hand from underneath you to gently wipe away a tear before slipping down to cradle your neck.
“Hey,” you managed back, laughing slightly as you wiped the right side of your face to catch the tears there.
“I missed you.” His eyes searched yours and a small crack threatened your heart when you realised he was nervous that this tour had been too much, too long for you to stay wanting him.
“I missed you, too,” you assured him, bringing your hand from the back of his shirt up and over his shoulder to gently cup his face, his eyes closing as he leant into the sensation with a sigh of relief. You took a moment to simply take in his appearance, noting how his jaw seemed a little bit sharper, the skin under his eyes a little bit darker. He’d been working so hard and you could feel an inexplicable swell of pride in your chest as you held his face in your hands at the knowledge that he did it all out of a love for his fans and his members.
“I love you,” his lips brushed against your hand as he spoke, his voice barely more than a breath as his eyes opened ever so slightly to gaze down at you.
“I love you, too,” you whispered back without hesitation, your right hand ghosting through the hair at his temples while the other came to rest at the nape of his neck. You noticed the tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he seemed to desperately take in every single millimeter of your face, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was finally back with you in the same bed, so you gently pulled his face towards yours to place a gentle kiss to his lips.
No matter how many times you’d thought about this moment over the last three months, even your strongest moments in your imagination could never mimic the feeling of absolute peace that washed over you when your lips met with his. It was as if you’d been holding your breath for the last three months, from the moment he’d last placed a kiss to your forehead in the airport up until now, and now you could finally breathe again.
“You okay?” The concern in Taehyung’s voice caused your eyes to drift open again, the immediate blur of light and hair alerting you to the fact that you were crying, just as you’d known you would. You let out a short laugh at yourself, feeling ridiculous as you tried to wipe your tears away. At the same time, Taehyung started peppering butterfly kisses over your face with a low chuckle, knowing that you were as overwhelmed as he was that the two of you were finally reunited. “I love you so much,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck in the way he knew tickled you, grinning proudly when you started giggling through your tears instead.
You desperately tried to escape his grasp as he started to tickle your sides, rolling away and into the side of the bed that had been untouched for so long, but Taehyung followed you unforgivingly, his own laugh growing louder the more you helplessly tried to wriggle away from his hands.
It wasn’t until a quiet ‘please’ escaped between your laughs that he relented, a smug grin on his face that he could still beat you in a tickle fight so easily, and he settled back into your arms with his head against your chest. You relaxed into each other, your breath recovering from your giggles and calming down into an easy rhythm that caused Taehyung’s head to gently rise and fall with your chest.
“I’m so glad I finally get to start a new day with you,” he murmured against your tummy and you couldn’t help the slight tip of your head as you looked down at him, confused, but he was looking away from you. You followed his gaze to look at the clock just as it ticked over to 00:00 and smiled, looking down at your boyfriend once more as your hands found his hair again.
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
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kpop-zone · 4 years
Text
Red velvet reaction to their s/o attending their concert
Irene
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Oh boy.
You were not ready for the performance Irene gave you, when you attended one of her concerts. Before the concert, she behaved like nothing was different. When in public, Irene was never really comfortable with any form of PDA, so you were just tagging along with the group until it was time for you to take your place in the crowd. Irene ordered the staff to somehow guide you to the first row right in the center, so you could have the best view on the stage. As Irene always gave 100% during their performances, you couldn’t really see a difference during the first half of the concert, which didn’t mean that you weren’t incredibly proud of your girlfriend.
But when it was time for her solo performance, nothing in the world could have prepared you. Irene must have forgotten to mention that she would perform a new dance that involved an extremely short red dress and her basically seducing the audience with the help of a chair. She would make all of her movements especially sharp and as often as it was possible without it being too obvious, she was holding direct eye contact with you. You were watching the whole performance with your mouth wide open, unable to move,which was exactly what Irene was aiming for. When you came backstage after the concert, Irene was back to normal again, like she didn’t just seduce you in front of thousands of people, innocently asking in a sweet voice,
“Did you like what you were seeing, jagi?”
Seulgi
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The fact that you were attending the concert didn’t make Seulgi nervous. You were her number one supporter in life, so you were the first one she showed new performances to anyways. Therefore, she made sure to give you a place in the first row, so you could perfectly see everything. But to show you how much she loved that you were there, she decided that a little extra effort during her solo dance performance wouldn’t harm anyone.
Full of confidence she would step on the stage and take her position with a sexy look on her face, but as she was waiting for the music to start, she was taking a look through the crowd and saw you standing there, waving your lightstick in support for her and she just couldn’t help it. Her sexy facade broke and she had to stifle a giggle. You just looked so adorable with your lightstick and cheering for her like you were just a normal fan. When the music started though, she was completley professional again, nailing her dance performance and claiming her position as main dancer. After the concert, when you were coming backstage, she couldn’t help herself anymore and leaped into your arms, peppering your face with kisses.
“Thank you for coming today, jagi.”
Wendy
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You already knew that you were dating a vocal power queen, so when you came to Red Velvet’s concert you knew that you had nothing else but perfection to expect from your girlfriend. You were happy that you could finally attend one of her concerts and so was she. She wasn’t relly nervous before the concert, but rather really, really excited and giddy to be able to perform in front of you.
Because of that she was beaming thoughout the whole concert and her bubbly personality might have shown though a little more than in their previous concerts. When they were doing interactions with their fans, she made sure to be the one who stood closest to where you were standing and blew you some kisses without drawing too much attention. You were definitley happy to see your girlfriend enjoying her time on stage that much, and thouroughly impressed that she had even managed to sing a few notes higher than normal, just because she was so full of energy. After the concert, she would be content and calm down a bit, taking your hand in hers, thanking you for your time,
“You make me really happy, jagi.”
Joy
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Joy definitley went with mixed feelings into the concert. On the one hand, she was nervous, because she knew that you made the effort to come to the concert only to see her, so she felt like she owed you a good performance. On the other hand, she knew that you worshipped her body, so she definitley wanted to give you a show that you couldn’t forget that easily.
So before the concert, she actually felt a little uneasy, but as soon as she was on the stage and saw the fire in your eyes when you saw how perfectly her outfit accentuated her legs, she couldn’t help but smirk to herself. She definitley swayed her hips way more than she had to when walking across the stage and would sent you some playful winks thoughout the concert. With every minute she actually started to enjoy the concert more and in the end, she thought that you should be at every concert from now on, because it was just so much better to perform for you. When you went to meet her backstage, she didn’t even hide that she tried harder for you today,
“How did you like my performance that I did only for you, jagi?”
Yeri
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Yeri would be the most nervous of all. She had been the target of many hate comments in the past. Therefore, she often couldn’t help, but be insecure. She always gave her all during performances, but having you there, she just wanted everything to be perfect. You have been her safety net in the past, whenever she couldn’t take all the criticism anymore, so she wanted to show you how much she had grown since then and that she was stronger now.
Before the lights went on and the show started, she could take a glance at the crowd from the place she was standing and she could see you waiting expectantly with your gaze fixed on the stage and her heart fluttered. It gave her a boost of confidence and she put even more blood, sweat and tears into the concert. Especially when she was singing her self-written song Dear Diary about loving yourself, no eye was left dry in the arena, because with having the one who taught her to love herself in the crowd, she was just singing it with even more emotions lacing her voice. Backstage, you ran into each others arms sobbing. With no words being needed, you just savored the moment.
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stillness-in-green · 4 years
Text
The Way You Survive Is... (4/4)
One of the joys of meeting new people is gaining a new perspective.
(Things were always going to change after Deika. This, though, Rikiya did not see coming.)
Chapter Warnings: Spinner has a judgey streak a mile wide, but compared to everything that's come before, he's a veritable bodhisattva.  There are a few mentions of Rikiya’s injuries from Deika also.
Pre-ship for Spinner/Rikiya if you want it to be, but it starts because they're both Big Smitten for Shigaraki.
———      ———      ———      ———
Chapter Four: Dealing With All the Todays and Tomorrows 
The end of it came unexpectedly, during Rikiya’s first meeting with his new leader after the hospital stay.  Rikiya had spent the better part of an hour in Shigaraki Tomura’s personal suite, members of the League drifting in and out from the living room (and Skeptic doubtlessly listening in as well) as Rikiya recounted the Liberation Army’s holdings and activities in exhaustive detail, precedent to its new Grand Commander deciding what he wanted to actually do with the organization he’d so suddenly found in his possession.  For all Rikiya’s preconceptions about him, Shigaraki Tomura had proven to have a keen interest in his new resources, asking a shocking number of pertinent questions about troop distribution, societal permeation, and goals-to-date.
Finally, though, they’d circled back to one of the very first things that had come up: Detnerat and its support goods, and, now, what sorts of creations might be in the offing for the members of the League.
“You may have seen Trumpet’s at the end—he was wearing it when he approached us.”  Rikiya hadn’t seen it himself, too focused on Shigaraki and what he might say, how to give voice to overflowing emotions of reverence and regret, how to plead for the lives of his followers in a way that stood any chance of success.  Still, he’d grown up with Trumpet’s voice; he knew all of its timbres, and the sound of it filtering through Sevens Loud was unmistakable. “But my Claustro was another.”
“The mech suit thing?”  Shigaraki was a gaunt, black-clad figure propped up against the headboard of the bed, all but swallowed up amongst the pillows scattered across the king-sized mattress.  He’d commandeered (and factory-reset) one of Skeptic’s laptops, though he hadn’t used it once during the whole of Rikiya’s presentation.  It sat open beside him, the screen turned away.
“The very same!  It was a pressure mechanism to boost my stress levels.  I’m having it rebuilt, of course.”  The influence of the painkillers in his system made it wonderfully easy to deliver that bit of news with such cheer.  Shigaraki gave him a long look, then snorted lightly.
“Don’t bother.”
It was like having his legs out from under him a second time.
“I’m—I’m sorry?”  Rikiya stumbled on the words, completely blindsided.
“I said, don’t bother,” Shigaraki repeated shortly.  “S’more expensive than it’s worth.”
“But it really is effective,” Rikiya argued—and oh, what was he doing, arguing with this young man?  He winced when Shigaraki turned the full force of an annoyed scowl on him, but forged on.  “I know I didn’t make the best showing of it in Deika, but if you give me another chance to demonstrate it, or even just let me show you the numbers—”
“What are you, into bondage or something?” Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed, and between that and the stab of nausea at the very thought, Rikiya broke into an uncomfortable sweat.  “You’re too desperate.”
“No,” he said slowly.  “It’s just that I want to be at my most effective for you.”
“You being at maximum effectiveness isn’t our most effective play, Mr. CEO.”  His young leader’s words dripped with scorn.  “I’m not blowing your cover on a fight.  Take the money you’d spend on that and earmark it.  We’ll figure out what to do with it when we’ve got our plans more in place.”
“Yes, sir.”  No more Claustro.  No more Claustro.
He rallied somewhat, the thought plucking at strings within him that hummed with a giddy delight that felt twenty—thirty—possibly younger than he’d ever felt in his life.  Stress was still important, of course, but if Shigaraki really did mean for him to lean into his business resources rather than utilize him in combat, then…
“Okay, I take one part of that back.”  Shigaraki, who’d been staring at him the entire time he was processing the command, rolled his eyes and turned away.  “I also want you to go get a massage or see a hooker or something.”
If he were on his prosthetics yet, Rikiya would surely have tripped over then.  It certainly did the trick for wiping whatever sort of glassily ecstatic look he’d had on his face back off it.  “I—I really don’t know that that’s necessary.”
Shigaraki pulled the computer back into his lap.  “Wasn’t asking for your opinion.  If I’m going to keep having to deal with you, I want you wound down, not wound further up.”
Wound down.  Rikiya tried to contemplate it and found himself at a loss.
“That will be a bit of a new endeavor for me, but I’m sure I can figure it out,” he said, and the words felt like an open rooftop—free air, but no guardrail in the way of a sharp drop.
———      ———
“So what exactly do you do to relax?” Spinner asked him a few weeks later when the two of them were, yet again, the last to clear out after a meeting ended.  Shigaraki had vanished off to his mysterious doctor’s lab three days prior, and already the absence of him hummed through the organization, crackling in the long stares his compatriots received in the hallways, the glances that moved between Rikiya and the new lieutenants, always landing back on him as if silently asking, Now?  Do we attack now, while their guard is down?  Just say the word. 
The members of the now-dissolved League seemed to be handling it with rather more aplomb, thankfully.  Dabi’s standoffish rudeness aside, all of them had found at least some aspect of the merger that they seemed to enjoy, be it Toga Himiko getting her choice of advisors who were willing to feed her hungers within safe boundaries, Sako Atsuhiro’s bright, malice-edged banter with Galvanize, and Bubaigawara Jin’s—well, he mostly seemed happy to be in good company. Rikiya had high hopes.
And then there was Spinner.
Rikiya gave him a politely blank stare at the question.  It wasn’t the first time he’d fielded such an inquiry—poor Miyashita had asked, and various colleagues at industry conferences, and a number of people back in university, but in all cases, a pat answer was required, a mistruth or a deft lie. Spinner was a compatriot in the true labor, the cause of Liberation, and, more to the point, he was now Rikiya’s peer. That demanded a more truthful response, but Rikiya didn’t have one that he suspected was on Spinner’s list of acceptable replies.
“I mean it,” Spinner said, insistent, and crossed his arms over his chest in what was becoming a familiar mannerism.  “Shigaraki told me to make sure you relax some while he’s gone, so spill it.”
“Shigaraki did?”  Rikiya blinked, touched, but moreover, surprised.
“Yeah, he did,” Spinner said, still looking combative. Was he less than pleased with such instructions himself, Rikiya wondered, or was this just his usual awkwardness with socialization?  “So what do you do for fun?  Golf?  Ski resorts?  I mean, we’ve got work to do, so you can’t just take off, but—”
“Spinner, I…”  Rikiya smiled, bemused.  You may as well say it.  “I’m not trying to be reticent.  It’s just that there isn’t anything.”  Spinner favored him with a supremely skeptical stare, and he reiterated, “Truthfully.  If Shigaraki thinks my—relaxing will be helpful for the cause, that would—well, it would be a first.”
“There’s gotta be something.”  Spinner’s face twisted into disbelief.  “A hobby, maybe?  Bonsai?  Archery?”
“How traditional,” Rikiya attempted the joke, already turning apologetic as the last of Spinner’s aggression dissolved into bafflement.  “But no, there really isn’t.  Perhaps we can try one of your past-times?”
“Mine are—uh…”  Oh.  He can blush. Isn’t that cute? Rikiya’s thoughts informed him as the scales around Spinner’s cheeks infused with red.
“It will probably all be a new experience to me,” Rikiya offered.  He smiled wider, more genuine.  “How exciting.”  His assurances did not seem to make the other man feel any better.  In fact, he looked a bit like he wanted to crawl up the wall and escape.
“I’d need to…  Uh.  Order some stuff in.”
“Of course, of course!  Our resources are completely at your disposal.”  Rikiya beamed.  “Shall we set a time for this weekend, then?”
Spinner somehow went redder still, but mumbled agreement all the same.
———      ———  
The room Spinner had settled on for the venture—video games, Trumpet had predicted dourly, and Skeptic had confirmed—was an out-of-the-way conference room, not the villa’s biggest or airiest, not a corner room or common area, but one of those little meeting spaces tucked away in the bowels of any large enough building, accessible only through three different turns down four different hallways, the sort of thing you only ever saw if you’d built it, you cleaned it, or you explored enormous buildings for fun. Iguchi Shuuichi certainly didn’t fit the bill for the first two options, leaving only the latter, and Rikiya could only wonder if Spinner had found the place in idle wanderings or as the result of a deliberate search.
Regardless, the electronics took up much of one end of the room, a large-screen monitor set up on a low table, along with a glowing computer tower, a game console and sizeable speakers.  Two curved black and red rocker chairs on the floor sat, Rikiya thought, rather closer to the screen than was probably recommended by the Ministry of Health and Welfare.  The back end of the room was mostly bare, a table shoved up against the wall with a few damaged chairs and gutted computer towers speaking to the room’s prior life as a storage space for office supplies awaiting repair or repurposing.
Not a bad metaphor, all things considered.  I wonder if he intended it.
“Oh, hey.”  The he in question stood up from behind the TV, dusting off his hands and starting when he caught sight of Rikiya.  “So you did show.”
“I did.  And dressed down, as requested.”  Rikiya spread his arms in brief demonstration of innocuous brown dress pants and a white button-down shirt, top button undone, cuffs rolled back twice.  It was hardly casual, but it was as close to it as he could manage on short notice.
Spinner had done a much better job of it, a hoodie and jeans replacing his normal tac vest and dark pants, his hair long enough to brush his shoulders, thick and bushy, when his usual goggles and band of cloth weren’t holding it up.  He could almost pass for a normal person on the street, save for all the knives—the one part of his costume he’d left on, sheathed and strapped to his side.
He glanced over Rikiya, looking not entirely convinced—he was an open book generally, and being able to clearly see his forehead (rather high, actually) made reading his expressions even easier—but conceded a nod.
“Well…  Have a seat, I guess.”  He slid a remote control on the floor towards the two chairs with his foot.
Rikiya closed the door behind him, privately thankful for the barrenness of the other end of the room—he could almost pretend the room wasn’t functionally a cellar with all that clear space at his back—and made his way over to one of the rockers, easing himself into it.  It had been literal years since he’d been expected to settle into a casual seating arrangement with someone who wasn’t in his inner circle, and even those had mostly been relegated to the dinners as they’d all gotten older and busier with work.  Typically the chairs were higher off the ground.
Curious would have laughed at this for days.  He set the thought aside, accurate though it was, and shot Spinner an expectant smile as the man picked up a pair of controllers and thrust one out at him.
“Are you sure it’s all right that I haven’t touched one of these since university?” Rikiya asked.  He took the device and experimentally fit his grip around the handles, turning it over to examine the array of buttons and controls.
“It’s fine,” Spinner responded.  “I’m pretty sure games like this all teach you how to play them as you go.”  He sat down in his own rocker and angled himself slightly in Rikiya’s direction.  “So wait, what did you play in school?”
Hardly something Rikiya had committed to memory, given how much else had been going on in his life at the time.  He dredged up what he could anyway.
“Some sort of game where players would select a character to fight another player’s character.  Martial arts-themed, as I recall.  There was one that involved some sort of government agent killing zombies. And I had a friend in a study group who always going on about the last game in a series he enjoyed.  Something with ‘Fantasy’ in the title.”
Spinner muttered something under his breath that might have been Oh, boy and might have been Normies, and turned on the TV, simultaneously pressing the center button on his own controller. As the screen blinked on, resolving into a home screen for the game console, he flicked over to an entry labeled Seed, the image a single bright red flower on a black background.  A few logos later, they arrived at the title screen, which flickered periodically through homophonous kanji (Truth, Interval, Wait), and Spinner talked him through selecting New Game, Two-Player, and selecting himself as Player One.
The game began with a figure—small, features undefined beneath the hood of a simple blue robe—standing in a dim, firelit cave, a few shelves mounted on the walls.  A simple tutorial involved moving about the cave collecting items off the shelves: a bag, a canteen, and a small spade.  All basic joystick controls, a simple press-X-to-interact, and then the figure extinguished the fire with a spadeful of ashes and walked unprompted into the dim tincture of daylight on one side of the screen.
Outside, a short video showed the screen’s view expanding from the flat two-dimensionality of the cave to more sprawling environs of a lush forest, all dappled greens and yellows.  Tangles of vines proved impassable as Rikiya wandered up to them, attempting interaction to no avail.
“It’s not full open-world, but there’s not a time limit or anything, so you can poke around all you want,” Spinner offered, watching Rikiya uncertainly steer himself around the screen.
“And the goal is?”  A soundtrack had kicked in, a pleasant and melodic string piece, interspersed with birdsong when Rikiya passed close to a flash of feathers in the verdant tapestry.
“You’ll find out when you trip over it.  Just look for anything interesting.”
Rikiya obediently headed down the way that seemed generally laid out, noting a patch of particularly sunny ground up ahead.  “And where do you come in?  Or do we take turns?”
“The two-player functionality is for later on.” Spinner shifted positions to tuck one foot under himself—less sitting, more perching—the controller tucked in his lap. “You’ll see.”
Rikiya hummed assent and returned his focus to the screen, where a button prompt saw the character stooping down into a kneel and using her—his? its?—tools to dig a hole, drop in a seed from the bag, and recover it before pouring a small measure of water over it.  A circling motion of their hand followed, some silent little ritual, and in response, a flower bloomed up from the spot, small but brilliantly red.
The character didn’t immediately rise, but the screen shifted focus slightly, and when Rikiya nudged a joystick, they returned to their feet, and so he set out through the trees again.  He spotted another sunny patch before long, on a raised bluff, which lead to a new button option that resulted in a quick climbing animation and, shortly, a yellow flower glowing in the sun.
As promised, the controls were intuitive, and soon Rikiya had planted two more seeds and been forced to leave one promising-looking spot alone when the character proved unable to make the necessary climb. The next wrinkle presented itself shortly after—an empty canteen.  Further exploration yielded a small brook, glittering in the light, and the ability to refill his water supply.  A line of stones offered passage across the stream, and Rikiya paused, considering the implicit invitation to press forward.  But after a moment, he doubled back, watering the planted seed (a purple flower this time) before heading back towards the brook.
“You’re gonna be one of those 100% completion types, huh?” Spinner observed from where he’d been watching without comment since weighing in that the unreachable spot from before might be a New Game Plus thing.
Rikiya turned the phrase over in his head, then smiled slightly.  “Probably,” he allowed.  “Is that a problem?  I could prioritize progress instead of thoroughness.”
“You’re playing, not me.  Just play how you want.”  A hint of rolled eye suffused the words, and the combination brought back the memory of Shigaraki on the stage—We’re gonna do whatever we want!—a study in contrasts: a hand-tailored black suit worn with ratty red sneakers, sprawled like a street thug in a chair that belonged in a gentlemen’s club, wrapped in bandages with one splinted leg, but still speaking in a voice so effortlessly confident it gave Rikiya chills to remember.
Whatever we want.
“Is that part of the exercise here?” he asked; his voice emerged strangely hushed to his own ears.  That Shigaraki’s presence could have such an effect, even in his absence… Rikiya held back a sigh.  Trumpet had given him a very sharp glance the last time he’d sighed over Shigaraki and it came out revealingly wistful.
He’d half-expected Spinner to respond in denial or confusion—real or feigned, he’d not decided—but Spinner only sat quietly for a long moment before answering with, “If that’s what it takes, I guess.”
“To get me to relax?”  On the TV, the camera shifted perspectives—another video—to watch the character pass between two enormous trees, screen fading to black for a few seconds before returning to show a new landscape, the terrain hillier, the trees more sparse.  For the first time, sky was visible, a patchwork field of blue tumbled over with clouds.
Spinner shifted in place, the movement bespeaking awkwardness.  He tapped his claws over the controller in his lap, a drum of keratin on plastic.
“…Look, this is gonna sound pretty bad, but you’re—it’s like you’re on a commercial, all the time.  Mr. Compress feels less fake than you do sometimes, and I haven’t seen his real face the whole time I’ve known him.  The only time you feel real is when you talk about Shigaraki and how ‘liberated’ he is.”
“I believe it very much,” Rikiya offered, then fell quiet, because it wasn’t the right time to interrupt, and also, the wistfulness had just been waiting for him to speak again to leak out into his voice.
“Right, but—Shigaraki’s gone.  For the next four months.  We’ve gotta keep this thing together until he gets back, and—you know we’re the only ones who really care about it.”  Spinner’s shoulders had gone taut, Rikiya found when he looked over at the other man, his scaled fingers wrapped around the game controller.  “Shigaraki said something about you having an aneurysm, and I know he was just joking, but your whole thing is about stress.  And if that’s why you feel like you don’t ever not have a game-face on, then.”  He made a sudden frustrated sound, scratching at his hair.
“It doesn’t matter how you play the game,” he went on, just as Rikiya was opening his mouth to respond.  “This isn’t the kind of game you can lose.  You can just—play it how you want and nothing’s riding on it.  So you don’t have to turn around and ask me what’s the right way to do it.  Just—play it however feels right to you.”
On the screen, the little figure in blue with their inscrutable face had knelt, clothes moving slightly with a simulated breath.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much practice with—not having a ‘game-face’ on,” Rikiya said at last.  He thought about debating the assertion that no one else in his erstwhile organization cared about the new venture, but it was true that his own closest companions were making little attempt to hide their dissatisfaction.  Skeptic, of course, was quite vocal, but Trumpet, too, was entirely missing his usual charm around fellow warriors.  As for Geten, well, it was only a wonder that none of the League had commented yet about how long the ice in their drinks could last before melting.
“Yeah,” Spinner said with a shortness that Rikiya translated to, That’s obvious.  “But it’s just the two of us down here.  I won’t tell if you won’t.  Shigaraki’s the only other one who likes video games, anyway,” he added in a grumble.
“I’m surprised you all could find time for such things,” Rikiya said, which felt safer than anything else, to which Spinner snorted.
“We couldn’t.  I think he’s too practical to lug around a game system when he’s on the run. What’d he even hook it up to?  But he does that thing where he talks in gaming metaphors when he’s thinking about strategy.”  A mix of exasperation and fondness colored his voice.
“Do you suppose he might join us for this”—Rikiya waved the controller vaguely at the screen—“when he returns to us?”
Spinner’s cheeks colored slightly, and with a plaintive note, he answered, “I have no idea.  He—I don’t know.”  Rikiya made a questioning noise, lifting his brows, and Spinner shot him a look of residual distrust before relenting.  “He’s always either on or off.  No in-between.”
A somewhat garbled bit of metaphor, but Rikiya understood, if not the sentiment, then at least the dazed origin.  Still, he was learning things about Shigaraki Tomura, and there was a distinct thrill to that, to find a kindred spirit in this new cause, to see a look of mixed incomprehension and wonder in someone’s face that felt correspondent with his own.
“He’ll probably need some time to recover from the surgery, at least,” Spinner concluded after another moment on consideration.  “I guess we can ask.  The worst he can do is laugh at us.”  A beat of silence, then he amended, “The worst he would do is laugh at us.
“What?” he asked, suddenly defensive as he looked into Rikiya’s eyes.
“Mm?” Rikiya blinked at him.
“You’re smiling at me funny,” Spinner accused, and Rikiya blinked, realizing the truth of it.  He was smiling—still was, in fact, the expression oddly resilient even under the force of Spinner’s raised hackles.
“Apologies,” Rikiya murmured, still staring at the way Spinner’s beak twisted around an awkward scowl as he looked away, lilac pink eyes narrow.
“Just get back to the game,” he muttered.
“Ah, of course.”
——— 
It was a rather nice little experience, in the end.  The game progressed through different environmental stages, growing more barren from forest to plain to desolate shoreline and eventually into an abandoned city, all shattered glass and cracked asphalt and dim skies, hinting at some sort of apocalypse. It encouraged exploration of its different areas, with well-placed lulls in activity to take in its vistas and views (and it really did have exquisite color design), and each new area requiring more ingenuity to find water or soft earth or even sunlight.  In the third area, the second player’s role became clear, as the main character encountered some sort of wind spirit (hinted to be a ghost in the second-to-last stage) that could reach and manipulate areas and objects out of the main player’s grasp, as well give their jumps a modest boost.
The whole thing climaxed in a grueling slog through a blasted wasteland, all pale ash and white-hot sunlight and scouring winds. As played by Spinner, the spirit pushed insistently at the main character’s back even as their steps began to falter, and when they finally collapsed, it was in the shadow of their own body that they planted their final seed.  The wind spirit—now in ghost form again—pushed the ashes over the hole as the cloaked figure dribbled out the last of their water, then, together, they performed the ritual gesture, both hands moving as one.  A long, tense moment followed—predictable in the cinematic sense, but by then Rikiya was far too absorbed to quibble—before the seed unfolded into a red flower.  Seconds passed, and then another blossom found its way out of the sere earth some distance away from the fallen figure in blue.  It was followed by others, and the whole time, the red flower grew and grew, until a graceful tree, branches draped in crimson, stood at the center of the field of brilliant colors.
The credits rolled over a sweeter, fuller version of the game’s main theme, and a final little scene showed the two characters at the entrance to the cave from the beginning of the game, the blue-cloaked figure watching the canopy of the forest as the wind spirit toyed with a swirl of leaves.
“Well,” Rikiya said.  He and Spinner had not been entirely silent since the exchange about Shigaraki, but Rikiya had let him set the pace of conversation.  That had led to Spinner asking again, during the first beach area, whether Rikiya really had no hobbies to speak of; when asked in turn about his own, he had—reluctantly at first, then with increasing enthusiasm—talked about his personal favorite games. Rikiya was left with the distinct impression that Seed was not the sort of game Spinner normally favored, which showed a generosity of spirit Rikiya thought best rewarded by not drawing attention to it.
“That was a very charming experience,” he went on, ordering his thoughts for discussion—and also stretching out what remained of his legs; he would need to make some time for physical therapy after this.
“Was it relaxing, though?” Spinner asked, striking Rikiya to a chuckle with his blunt focus.
“I think the ending was tense enough to keep it from being entirely relaxing,” he said after giving the question due consideration. “But it felt like the intention was more to be cathartic, and it was that.”  Rikiya felt a rare lightness in his body—not as profound as Shigaraki overthrowing all his burdens, certainly, but—akin to it, perhaps.  A sense of stress expunged that, prior to Deika, he had typically only experienced after spars, and it had been rarer and rarer for him to take part in those as the years went on, much less expend any significant amount of stress in doing so.
“It was a wonderful tone piece,” he went on. “I think it would have been that much just to watch it, but the interactivity gives it its real impact. I can see why it’s well-regarded.”
Spinner nodded, uncertainty lingering in his eyes. “So—do you want to try to do it again sometime?”
“I’d be happy to.  You should bring some of the games you talked about next time.”  He paused as Spinner first brightened, then visibly tamped himself down and turned his attention to the game, beginning the process of exiting and turning off all the various components with a cursory mumble of agreement to Rikiya’s suggestion.
Unfortunately, with Spinner once again getting cagey, the sense of the contours of the room was creeping back in.  The transporting nature of the game was confined to the experience of playing it, and outside that, it really was quite a small room.  And if they did convince Shigaraki Tomura to join them, all the presence and intensity of him in such close quarters…  The thought tightened a cord around Rikiya’s chest, hope and fear mingled in the remembrance of the sublime.
If I’m going to have to keep having to deal with you, I want you wound down, not wound further up.
There is one thing you could ask for.  It was a small thing to ask in some ways, a large one in others, and if he let himself linger on it, he would doubtlessly talk himself out of it, which seemed disrespectful to the amount of time and effort his companion had devoted to this whole endeavor.
“Spinner,” he said abruptly, and the man looked back over at him with a small, suspicious frown and wary eyes.  “The next time we do this…”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we might do it somewhere with windows?”
Should I explain?  Would he even want to hear about something like that?  Can I even talk about something like that?
Spinner studied him for a long moment, and Rikiya wondered suddenly how much more Shigaraki might have told him, about their confrontation, about the Claustro, about—well, about whatever conclusions Shigaraki had come to.  As the seconds stretched on, he felt the tiny curve of a smile on his face, not the expression of someone brimming with happiness to be shared, but the resigned air of someone awaiting a trial.  Not his best work, it had to be said.
“Yeah,” Spinner finally said.  “That’s fine.”
The answer—Spinner’s decision not to press—felt like a weight lifting.  A small one, to be sure.  But it was…
Well, it was a start.
…And perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to look into finding a few video games to bring in himself next time, too.
———      ———      ———      ———
Seed may look like a complete rip-off of Journey, but it also takes some inspiration from Prune, Monument Valley, Flower and a dash of Gris as well. It's using the verb-form of its titular word, which in Japanese would be pronounced ma, as would be the other kanji mentioned. (The kanji for devil has the same pronunciation, but the game devs didn't include it.)
Thanks for reading, all!
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Favorite Character (26/???)
Cedric the Sorcerer (”Sofia the First”, 2012)
“You have come to the greatest sorcerer in the world… for school supplies?!”
…what? “Sofia the First” is a cute show, you know? Full of good morals, Disney Princesses cameos, and good developed and relatable characters… maybe a bit too much, I’d say: that’s probably why I instantly took a liking to the show’s main… “antagonist”(?).
This is Cedric, and he wants to take over the Kingdom of Enchancia by trying to steal little neo-princess Sofia’s magic amulet so he can aquire so much power that no one will be able to stop him!
…or, at least, this is what he keeps monologuing about to his raven, Wormwood, and it’s not like he’s that good at keeping it secret either: just how he managed to keep this going for a long time without being caught is beyond me.
Anyway, analyzing just why he wants to do such a thing actually makes it easy to see his point: Cedric comes from a long line of Royal Sorcerers, and he’s currently working for King Roland II, whom he has known since he was a kid; this guy often tries to play himself up as great and amazing, full of potential inside of him, but the moment he tries to cast a spell in front of someone he suddenly gets incredibly anxious and nervous, which greatly plays a part in how the spell will play out (not that well, as you can guess): this only gives people the impression that Cedric is only good at messing up and be a lost cause, and, naturally, this only makes our Sorcerer feel even worse, especially considering his own father was considered one of the greatest magicians of his times.
Said anxiety also stemmed when everyone, including his own sister, blamed him for an accident that ruined her hair, when in reality he genuinely didn’t do anything to warrant all the disdain he recieved that day (and, keep in mind, he was less than 10 when that happened!); since that day, he was deemed as a bundler, an adjective that haunted him (until the true accident’s cathalyst was cleared up a few decades later thanks to Sofia and his niece Calista) and made him the target of much ridicule, which only made his anxiety get worse.
All the little respect he got also made him be very reclusive: for most of the seires he’s pretty anti-social, and he’d rather stay alone brewing potions, practising spells and playing himself up as a great evil sorcerer as much as possible than to lend a hand to someone: if he REALLY has to, he’ll either do it very grumpily, or play a trick if it would benefit him. Cedric is also very, VERY melodramatic and snarky, and you can see it especially when he’s around either Sofia or Amber: when he’s with the former, he tends to respond to her sweet enthusiasm with cynical replies, and with the latter it’s basically a snark battle.
However, it’s really thanks to Sofia that he gets to show his best qualities: it’s easy to see that this guy tries so hard to act villainous, and yet it’s clear that he doesn’t have the heart to actually hurt someone; since the day he started tutoring the young princess to magic, he has shown to be a patient and encouraging teacher which greatly helps Sofia to improve a lot with her own magic, and the more he spends time with her the more open he gets about his emotions and gets his confidence boosted from her genuine encouragements. Heck, the more their friendship grows, the more he slowly realizes that it’s not taking the kingdom his true desire, but just having people actually seeing him as someone who’s got worth, someone who is actually not a failure. In one episode he came close to obtain the kingdom, but he stopped because he actually realized just how much Sofia’s friendship and influence means to him, and he stops persuing the “taking over the kingdom” plan altogether after that.
Especially since the moment he stops scheming, his more endearing traits show up more and more often: his dramatic personality plays up also when he gets happy or excited, since he gets very giddy and smiles goofily, especially considering the fact he’s very much a Merlin’s fanboy (yes, that Merlin, the one from “The Sword in the Stone”), his snark gets less bitter (but still funny), he gets his spells right with enough confidence (and with enough confidence he’s also humble enough to accept help when it’s needed), and his moments of being helpful get more and more genuine and selfless.
By the time the show ends, he’s been the one who guides everyone’s efforts into performing a complex spell to help Sofia save the day, prompting King Roland himself to finally compliment him and giving him a true title: “Cedric the Great” (the one he always wanted!); and, as a way to truly conclude his character arc, he’s the one who retrieves Sofia’s amulet and gives it to her with a sweet, sincere smile: as of now he’s come to understand what truly matters in his life.
So, at first I liked Cedric because since day one I saw him as hilariously inept at being a villain: his snark was very on point, and his dramatic personality was always a joy to watch; but then, especially during high school, I started to like him also because he always felt so relatable: a good deal of my tests and violin lessons were hindered by my own anxiety and emotional block, and the pain of how much worse I felt compared to the others were reflected in just how much Cedric’s own anxiety affected his own spells, and as a result I wasn’t exactly the most open hearted person around (I often kept up to myself just like Cedric). As of now I’ve managed to work through a good deal of my rigidness (there’s still some work to do, but compared to those days I’m doing much better), and seeing Cedric slowly developing as a character in such a positive way has been incredibly wholesome, which only means that I’m on the right path as well.
I wrote this since apparently he’s a Capricorn, so I think he had a birthday some time ago? Well, I wish you a (belated) happy birthday, Cedric: I’m glad of all the progress you made. Wish you good luck on all your spells! :)
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dakotacrisis · 4 years
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Deal’s End (9)
Two steps forward and one step back cause Marinette and Felix are disasters.
(Read on AO3)
---
More and more days went by and each day Marinette found another excuse not to ask Felix what she wanted to. More and more Adrien came closer to Marinette’s side. More and more Marinette and Felix spent laughing together, dancing around what they knew needed said. More and more Marinette could see the end in sight.
One day at school Adrien invited Marinette and Felix out to lunch to make up for the one that Felix missed before. Felix lied about having prior plans and told Marinette and Adrien to go on without him. Marinette knew what he was doing but it didn’t stop her from wishing he would actually join them for lunch.
They headed out together and spent the afternoon in pleasant conversation. “I can’t wait for summer vacation.” Adrien said. “I’ve been working with Nathalie to rework my schedule so I can actually have some time off.”
“It will be nice to have a break from school.” Marinette sighed dreamily thinking of all the time she could spend on other projects or with her friends during the break.
“All I’m hoping for is to spend time with my friends.” Adrien gave her a soft look, “Especially with you. I feel like we’ve gotten to be a lot closer as friends recently and it makes me really happy.”
“It makes me happy too.” Marinette said, “Before I was always so nervous around you that I could barely string a sentence together.” “I had noticed.” Adrien chuckled, “Why was that? We’ve known each other for two years now and I never understood why you always ducked away when I tried talking to you.”
“Well...that is…” Marinette poked her food around her plate. “I don’t wanna say.”
“Why not? Is it embarrassing?” Adrien asked.
“Kinda. I mean not really I suppose but I don’t know how you’d react and that’s primarily the reason why I’m hesitant to admit it.”
“If you’re not comfortable telling me that’s okay.” Adrien assured her. He laid a hand overtop of hers. “I hope one day you can and we can look back at this and laugh. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’d judge you or want to stop hanging out with you. No matter what your reasons are.”
“Thanks, Adrien, you don’t understand how much I needed to hear that.” One day down the line she’d tell him but for now she was content to sit and enjoy the rest of their lunch. They started the walk back to class hand in hand. Not that she thought much of it and she doubted Adrien read more into either. She held hands with her friends all the time.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you.” Adrien said, “Father picked out the photos that are going to go up for advertising. He really liked the whole sky and sun theme that Giuseppe did with the three of us.”
“I can’t believe I let you two talk me into that.” Marinette rolled her eyes, “And your dad was okay with me being in them? I mean I know I am rather pretty but I also know I’m not a professional model like you are.”
“You give yourself too little credit. I looked at the shots he picked and you look great!” Adrien blushed, “I also saw some of the shots that you and Felix took after I left. There’s one where he picked you up that father was really impressed with.” Adrien pulled out his phone and showed her a copy of the photo he was talking about.
Marinette knew what the moment was. It was when she called Felix her friend and he got excited and lifted her in the air. Even in a photo she could see the joy radiating off his face as he gazed up at her. Marinette’s own eyes were closed and she was holding tightly to Felix as she spun. It was a pocket of pure happiness captured on camera.
“You and Felix have also become really good friends.” Adrien put his phone away. “I have to admit, it kinda looked like you didn’t like him when he first came to school.”
“Oh yeah,” Marinette shrugged, “He rubbed me the wrong way at first but we hung out more and while he can still annoy me to bits I’ve gotten used to him. He’s sort of an acquired taste you can say.”
“Well, I hope during the summer we can all hang out together. He seems cool.”
“He’s alright.” Marinette smiled.
Felix didn’t ask for details on how the lunch went beyond if it went well. Had he not been spying on them? Most of the time he loved nothing more than to silently watch from the sidelines. On more than one occasion he would insert himself invisibly to Adrien and try to distract her. This was the first time she could remember going out with Adrien and not seeing or hearing from Felix at all.
The rest of class Marinette kept catching Adrien glancing back at her. Alya nudged her when she noticed. “Adrien keeps looking at you.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Marinette scoffed. “We had a nice lunch. That’s it. I don’t know why he’s being weird.”
“Oh my god, girl, how can you be so smart yet so dense?” Alya groaned. “He’s not being weird, he’s checking you out, albeit in a shy schoolboy kinda way.”
“No he’s not...is he?”
“Next time he looks wink at him.” Almost on cue Adrien glanced back at her again. Marinette swallowed her nerves and winked at him. His face immediately flushed crimson and he almost stumbled out of his chair turning around again.
“Girl,” Alya whispered excitedly, “Did you see his reaction? I think your little crush may have a crush on you.”
“Noooo…” Marinette fought the coy smile that crept on her face, “You think?”
“Watch this.” Alya looked as devious as Felix did when he was plotting. “Also, I am sorry in advance.”
“For what?”
“For this.” Alya raised her voice, “Yeah, Marinette, I can help you go bikini shopping!”
BANG!
“Ow!” Adrien cradled his knee. “Sorry, ignore me. Hit the table.” Adrien hid his face behind his textbook.
“Alya!” Marinette stressed through clenched teeth. “What is wrong with you?”
“He definitely likes you. He may not be entirely aware of it right now but I can guarantee he is picturing you in a teeny weeny bikini right now and it is making it very hard for him to pay attention to the lesson.” Alya leaned closer, “Bet you money that’s not the only thing that’s hard for him right now.”
“Oh my god you’re worse than Felix.” Marinette laid her head down on the table. Classes finally ended and Marinette started packing up her materials.
“Um, Marinette?” Adrien approached her. He wasn’t looking directly at her and she had noticed that his blush from earlier had yet to fully clear. “I wanted to say sorry if I was distracting you during class. I don’t know what was going on with me.”
Marinette glanced over at Alya who gave her an encouraging wave before scampering out the door. It was just the two of them in the classroom now. “It’s okay. How’s your knee?”
“My knee?” His face flamed up again. “Oh right, yeah, it um--it’s fine! Totally fine!” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you’re doing tomorrow but I was hoping we could hang out. Is that okay?”
“Sure. That sounds like fun.” Adrien was asking her out! Not anyone else! Just her!
“Cool. Uh...I can’t be out too long but I thought maybe we could go to the park, take a walk. Is that lame?”
“No. I love walking.” I. Love. Walking. Why was she likes this?
“Great. It’s a date.” Adrien smacked himself, “I mean, not a date. Not like a romantic date. A date between friends. A friend date.”
“Alright.” Marinette was trying not to laugh, “See you tomorrow for our friend date then.” Marinette started to leave. She was at the door when she decided to do something either incredibly brave or insanely dumb.
“Adrien?” She looked back at him. “You know that thing I mentioned at lunch? What I was too embarrassed to say?”
“Yeah?”
“I was super nervous before because I had a crush on you.” She told him. He opened his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out. “Hope that’s not weird.”
She left him gaping like a fish in the classroom and skipped out into the hall. Felix was waiting outside the door for her. “Oh hi,” Marinette pulled him along with a giddy smile. “I told Adrien about my crush on him! I can’t believe I did that!”
“Certainly surprised me.” Felix smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Congratulations, love, soon enough you won’t even need me.”
“Please, I would have never been able to say any of that without you encouraging me and boosting my confidence while talking to him.” Marinette couldn’t contain her excitement. “Also, I think Alya might be right. Maybe Adrien does have a crush on me.”
“Crush or not you’re stuck with me until you upgrade to girlfriend.” Felix messed her hair. “Now bring me my wingman payment of eclairs!”
“Five years of my life and eclairs. You demons are so greedy.” Marinette laughed. They went in through the bakery and grabbed their snacks that her parents had already prepared special. They had grown quite used to Felix popping in with Marinette all the time. Felix had even taken Marinette’s advice to come up to the door in the mornings so he could eat breakfast with them instead of Marinette sneaking him food after.
After work and dinner Marinette was tearing apart her closet to construct a perfect outfit for her outing with Adrien tomorrow. “Felix, what do you think?” Marinette held up two different looks, “The blue skirt with the white blouse or the overalls with the crop top?”
“Overalls and crop top.” Felix pointed. “But you should go with the black top instead of the pink. Has more allure.”
“Good call.” Marinette hung the outfit up near her changing screen and put the other away. Her phone beeped with an alert. “Pass it.”
Felix tossed her the phone.
“OOH!” Marinette set her phone down and scrambled for the trap door to her balcony. “I almost forgot!”
“Love?” Felix followed after her, “What are we doing out here?”
“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight.” She told him, “I set a reminder on my phone about it forever ago.”
“Um, I don’t know how to break this to you but I doubt you’re gonna see any shooting stars out here.” Felix pointed to the sky. “Light pollution doesn’t help with that.”
“Oh…” Marinette stared at the sky in disappointment. “Right. I should have known that. That’s a bummer.” She started heading back down to her room when the lights died out. Did they blow a fuse?
“Love, come back up here.” Felix called. Marinette went back to the balcony. She gazed out over the city and noticed that all the lights had gone out.
“Is it a blackout?”
“Kinda.” Felix shrugged, “Electronics still work but all the lights are out.”
“Did...did you do this?” Marinette asked. She couldn’t believe that his powers could work like this. To stretch so far as to douse every light in the city.
“You wanted to watch the shower, didn’t you?” He tilted her head up towards the sky and she gasped.
Without all the lights the pollution was gone. She could see the stars! She could see the Milky Way with how clear it was! She was transfixed as she stared at the sky. A beam of light went streaking past. It was short but it had been there. Another followed not long after it.
“Thank you.” Marinette turned to Felix and was surprised to see him watching her. “I’m gonna go make us tea. I’ll be right back.” Marinette raced down to the kitchen with flashlight in hand to make them a pot of tea. She brought it back up and set it down on her spool table. She poured them both a cup and joined Felix at the railing to watch the shower.
It was getting to be late but Marinette couldn’t leave now. Not when the sky was alive and stars shot past every couple of seconds. It was such a beautiful night.
“Felix,” She said after they had been watching for a while. “You never finished that story you were telling me before. The one you started when I had that nightmare.”
“You fell asleep.” He laughed quietly, “Did you want to hear the end?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.” Felix cleared his throat. “You remember the poor man that loved the beautiful woman and how the woman was now engaged to a brute of a man to everyone’s sorrow.”
“I remember. That’s when you showed up, wasn’t it?”
“It was indeed.” Felix continued. “The man was in so much anguish about his love that his misery seeped down into Hell. I was the first to sense it and went to meet him sensing he may be easy pickings for a deal. Rules back in the old days were drastically different then they are now. Anyways, I found the man and approached him. I told him that I could feel his sorrow and pain and that I could make it better.”
“I told him that he could have whatever he wanted. He could wish for it to be him that the woman married instead. He could be rich and be married to the woman he loved. He could live a long life in comfort and all he had to do was ask.” Felix’s gaze became unfocused as he stared out over the city. His expression left a feeling of painful memories lurking below. “But the man said no. That was not what he wanted.”
“What did he want then?” Marinette asked.
“He looked me dead in the eyes and told me that all he wanted was for his love to be happy. That was all he had ever wanted. And so he asked me to make it so that the brute of a man she was to marry was instead a kind man. That he would make her happy and never hurt her. That the fiance would treat his bride with only kindness and gentility and love for all their days. At the time I did not understand. I couldn’t understand why he would choose that as his wish when I had the power to give him anything in the world. Why when he could have had everything, he chose to stay a poor man watching the woman he loved from a distance.” Felix gripped the railing tighter, “I asked him as much and he said that it was never about what was best for him. He only wanted to see her happy and to see her smile. That seeing that she was living in love and kindness was the only gift he wanted or needed out of life. And if he could ensure that she was well cared for and content then he would give anything in exchange.”
“What did it cost?” Marinette whispered, “His soul?”
Felix shook his head. “Nothing. What the man had said was true. His wish was selfless and his deepest desire. It was the one time I had ever made a deal without a price.”
Marinette yawned and leaned her head on his shoulder. “What happened then?”
“Overnight the brute the beautiful woman was to marry became a perfect gentleman that loved her dearly. She in turn fell in love with him and they lived many years together and raised a loving family.”
“And what of the poor man? What became of him?”
“It was not long after I had made the deal with the poor man that I went back to see him. He was on his death bed. An illness he contracted sleeping through the cold and not having enough to eat. He would not make it through the night.” Felix rested his head against the top of hers. “By this time the beautiful woman was now married to the former brute and had given birth to a child. I knelt next to the poor man as he lay dying and asked him if it had been worth it. Here he was lying in the dirt, slowly dying, all by himself. His love had no idea he existed and was living a wonderful life in luxury while he suffered here. Had it been worth it to waste his wish on making her husband kind when I could have given him everything?”
“This poor man. This man who would die without anyone else knowing or caring had the gall to look at me with pity in his eyes. He smiled at me and told me that because of his wish he got to see her smile every day. He smiled and said that though he was dying he would die knowing that she would live many more years and be happy. He smiled and said that yes, it had been worth it.”
“That’s really sad.” Marinette murmured, “Did the woman never find out about what he did for her?”
“There was never a reason to tell her.” Felix muttered, “Why would she believe it anyway?”
“I feel sorry for that man.” She said, “But his tale is also inspiring in a way. To imagine that someone could have that much love for someone else. It’s pure. It’s pure love.”
“It is. Isn’t it?” Felix sighed. His one hand left the railing and came to rest gently on Marinette’s back. “It’s late. You should go to bed, get your beauty sleep. Got a hot date tomorrow after all.”
Marinette let out another big yawn. “I guess so. Are you gonna turn the lights back on?”
“Yeah.” Felix waved his hand and all across the city the lights blinked back on. The change was so quick and drastic Marinette winced away from it. “Let there be light!”
“You are such a dork.” Marinette laughed. She set her cup on the table. She’d clean up their leftover tea in the morning. Felix was still at the railing looking out over the newly lit city. “Felix,” She tapped his shoulder.
“Yes?” he turned around.
“Thank you.” She stood on her toes and left a kiss on his cheek. “Good night.”
“Good night…” His voice was a hushed exhale. His eyes were blown wide as he stared down at her.
She bit back her smile and dropped down onto her bed. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t stop smiling to herself. She bundled under the blankets and clasped her pillow tight to her chest. “Well…” Marinette muttered to herself with a hysterical giggle. “I am so screwed.”
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