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queenshelby · 3 years

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The Singer – Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 7,970

Warning: Smut, Some Swearing, Age Gap

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***Raising Suspicions***

Kurt was quick to tell Amanda about his suspicions. He was sure that Cillian and you were involved after he’s seen Cillian’s watch at your apartment, lying on his study desk along with an empty condom wrapper.

He wasn’t surprised, knowing very well that you preferred older partners and that he was the exception all along. But Amanda didn’t buy into his suspicions.

‘Common Kurt, you are being ridiculous. Cillian wouldn’t be interested in Y/N’ Amanda said, but Kurt simply raised an eyebrow at Amanda’s comment.

According to Amanda, you weren’t Cillian’s type. You were too young and too outspoken. In addition, she explained to Kurt that Cillian wouldn’t like your tattoos, piercings and your involvement on social media. You were completely different to Amanda, not just physically but also mentally. You were an extrovert whereas Amanda was an introvert. She was mostly quiet and reserved whereas you were loud and direct.

Despite Amanda’s comments, Kurt didn’t back down and eventually confronted Cillian when they were on their own.

‘Are you fucking my girlfriend?’ Kurt asked Cillian out of the blue.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian responded somewhat flustered by Kurt’s question.

‘It’s a simple question Cillian. Are you fucking my girlfriend? Yes or no?’ Kurt asked again angrily, starring at Cillian’s watch again.

‘Did someone spike your coffee this morning or something?’ Cillian asked somewhat annoyed, making Kurt sound absurd.

‘Alright, don’t fucking answer my question then but, just so you know, since you are always trying so hard to stay out of the tabloids, it would look really fucking bad if you left Amanda for a woman half your age’ Kurt went on to say, catching Cillian by surprise.

‘You have issues man’ Cillian said angrily before walking away from the conversation, getting on with the things he had to do for the arts and music festival.

Despite Cillian’s immediate reaction to Kurt’s question, Kurt’s comments didn’t leave Cillian’s mind for the remainder of the day.

Of course, it would be bad if he was involved with someone half his age, especially shortly after separating from Amanda which was something that wasn’t even public knowledge yet and it was exactly this what made Cillian think about whether he should continue seeing you.

With these thoughts on his mind, he became rather distant over the next few days, not returning your calls and messages, only engaging into conversations with you when he absolutely had to.

You were frustrated by his behaviour and the least you were expecting from him was that he would talk with you about what happened between you. If he believed it was a mistake that you slept with each other, then you wanted to know.

Eventually, a week had passed and nothing had changed.

***New Woman***

After having been upset and frustrated with Cillian and Kurt, you’ve given up on men all together and, on a Thursday evening, your closest friend Emily and her fiancée Judy took you out to a LGBT friendly bar in Dublin.

It was cocktail night and Judy introduced you to a friend of hers named Kirsten. Kirsten was a local Dublin artist and photographer and you got on with her quite well immediately.

You spent the entire evening talking and dancing and you eventually had a few too many drinks and left the bar together with Kirsten.

Sharing a taxi together, you got quite comfortable on the backseats and things eventually got heated between you and Kirsten when Kirsten leaned in and kissed you passionately while running one of her hands between your thighs.

Her lips were soft and smelled like strawberries from the lip gloss she was wearing and you couldn’t resist but give into the kiss on the backseat of the taxi.

‘Did you want to come to my place?’ Kirsten asked when your lips drifted apart.

‘I probably shouldn’t…I have been making a few mistakes lately’ you whispered, knowing that Kirsten was, in fact, in a relationship with someone else.

‘It could stay our little secret you know’ Kirsten smirked but, despite the large amount of alcohol you had to drink, you shook your head.

‘Listen, you are gorgeous but I don’t do one-night stands, I am sorry. Perhaps we will meet again under different circumstances’ you said with a tender smile before allowing Kirsten to kiss you once more just before the taxi driver pulled up in front of her apartment.

After a short final kiss, Kirsten got out of the taxi and walked into her apartment while you remained sitting, asking the taxi driver to take you home.

When you got home, you quickly undressed and let yourself fall onto your soft and large vintage style bed which is where you remained fast asleep until 8 o’clock the following morning.

At 8 o’clock, your phone beeped and it was text message from your sister with a link to one of the bar’s patron’s Twitter Accounts…

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“New Relationship for Y/N L/N with sexy Dublin artist Kirsten Lang??? It looks like Kurt Spencer is finally out of the picture”

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This was a nightmare, you thought. The last thing you needed was false information being out there about you while you were still dealing with your break up from Kurt and all you could think about was Cillian.

But, there was nothing you could do about it and, after digesting the news, you had a shower and got ready for another day of organising this arts and music festival.

When you arrived at the usual meeting spot, everyone had already seen the Twitter post and Kurt immediately gave you a serving about it, asking you why he wasn’t invited for a threesome with your lesbian friend.

‘Fuck off’ was all you managed to respond with. Still hungover and angry about the Twitter post, the last thing you needed was Kurt making a comment like this.

With your coffee in your hand, you eventually sat down next to Cillian who looked at you with a half grin on his face. His eyes were full of questions but he didn’t say anything at all.

‘What?’ you asked, annoyed by the way he looked at you.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian asked concerned.

‘No, I am not fucking alright, ok? I am sick of this shit’ you said with frustration as you scrolled through the Twitter comments.

‘You need to be more careful about who you hook up with in public. Trust me, I speak from experience’ Cillian chuckled, referring to that one night a few years ago where he was caught by cameras having a night out with one of his female co-stars. The incident caused his first major fight and break up with Amanda until it became public that Cillian and his female co-star were, in fact, accompanied by his co-star’s boyfriend and several other members of the film crew.

‘Well thanks for the advice’ you said angrily, still unsure why he cared.

‘Was it worth it at least?’ Cillian asked carefully, trying to figure out whether anything happened between you and Kirsten

‘Nothing happened. We just kissed. So no, it wasn’t fucking worth it’ you said. You couldn’t help but chuckle yourself knowing how idiotic this all was.

‘You’ve got two choices here. Either, you set the record straight or you let it go Y/N’ Cillian said calmly, feeling genuinely sorry for you.

‘What would you do in my situation?’ you asked.

‘I’ve learned not to give a shit about gossip like this over the years. Personally, I would let it slide. But I can see that it bothers you, so get your manager to make a statement on your behalf or, like you young people do, make a statement yourself on this platform with the bird on it which I think is where the rumours are coming from, right?’ Cillian recommended with a warm smile.

‘What Twitter?’ you laughed.

‘Yeah. Or you can use whatever social media platform you young artists use these days’ Cillian suggested.

‘Good idea old man. I will make a tweet’ you laughed. ‘But tell me, if you don’t use Twitter, how did you know about it in the first place?’ you went on and asked.

‘Kurt has a big mouth’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Of course’ you sighed.

After the initial Twitter drama, your day working with Cillian went exceptionally well and you felt much better after setting the record straight on Twitter, having your followers and fans interact on your post and offering their support.

You finished up after about five hours, ready to head back home in order to have a lazy evening.

‘Do you want a lift back home?’ Cillian asked after you indicated that you would be leaving and were ready to catch up on some sleep. You had told Cillian earlier that your car was still with the mechanics and he could see the tiredness on your face.

‘No thanks, I will walk’ you said despite the fact that you were tired and walking was the last thing on your mind. You were trying to spend as little time as possible with Cillian.

Cillian nodded and, just like this, you were out of the door.

‘You know, if you like her, perhaps just tell her’ Janine, the administration assistant, said to Cillian after having observed his interactions with you for the past few weeks.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian asked surprised and with a slight chuckle.

‘It’s obvious that you like her. Just as it is obvious that you touched the damn printer again last week even after I told you not to’ she then went on to say.

‘I am sorry about the printer’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Sure you are’ she laughed before walking off.

***Change of Mind***

Unfortunately for you, the following day, which was also going to be the last day of working with Cillian and some others on the festival preparations, was going to be even worse than the last.

You barely made it to the office on time again, not having had much sleep again. You were on to your third cup of coffee and had been taking pain killers all night.

‘Fuck Y/N, you look awful. Are you alright?’ Cillian said as you sat down next to him and, over at the copier station, he could see Janine shake her head in disbelieve. He just told the woman he liked that she looks awful. He was a hopeless case she thought.

‘Oh, thanks Cillian. That makes me feel better’ you chuckled as you took a sip from your large cup of coffee and popped yet another two tablets of paracetamol.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it this way. You just look unwell’ Cillian said shyly, looking over to Janine for guidance. She nodded in approval.

‘I am fine. It’s just the time of the month’ you responded quietly and with some embarrassment.

‘What do you mean?’ Cillian asked with some confusion.

‘She means that she’s got her period Cillian’ Janine chuckled from behind before walking off.

‘Right. Of course’ Cillian said, his cheeks starting to flush. ‘Why didn’t you just stay at home if you are unwell?’ he went on to ask.

‘Because my apartment won’t have any electricity until 8pm. They are finally fixing the central heating system’ you explained.

‘Bad timing’ he responded.

‘I know. I will go to my sister’s later for dinner. Although I don’t really feel like it. She’s got two young kids who are quite a hand full and all I want to really do is chill and watch Netflix’ you whined.

‘Well, if you want to, you can come over to my place. No kids there and we could get some food, watch a movie and then I will drive you home once the electricians have left’ Cillian suggested.

‘Do you actually mean that or is this a “come up for tap water” type of situation?’ you asked causing Cillian to laugh.

‘You just said you have your period so it’s defiantly not a “come to my house for some tap water” type situation’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Believe it or not, some guys are into that. It’s just that I am not’ you giggled, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrows.

‘I can assure you that I am not one of those guys. Just a movie and some food, alright?’ Cillian laughed and you nodded, knowing that this would be a mistake but you much preferred a quiet evening with Cillian than a loud evening with your nephews while you were battling your period pains.

Just as promised, after a long day, Cillian took you home with him after you cancelled on your sister.

He dropped you at his house first, showing you how the TV works, before leaving you there on your own for half an hour so that he could organise some food for you as his fridge was usually empty now that Amanda had finally moved out.

While he was gone, you looked around the living area and you noticed that all pictures of Amanda and Cillian had gone. He clearly had moved on.

Eventually, you lied down on the lounge, watching TV and it wasn’t long until Cillian returned with two large shopping bags and it looked to you like he was going to cook for you.

‘When you said food, I expected pizza or chinese take away’ you said surprised before telling him that no man had ever cooked you dinner before and you were delighted by his efforts.

‘Nah, I enjoy cooking’ Cillian said with a warm smile as he continued to unpack the grocery bags.

Amongst ingredients for risotto, he also bought a caramel fudge ice cream, a bottle of wine, a hot water bottle and very warm ruby red socks.

‘Please explain’ you giggled as you held up the socks.

‘The last time we watched a movie together, in your bed, you had your feet wedged between my lower thighs because they were cold’ Cillian laughed before running his thumb over your cheeks and then pulling away, realising that he might have overstepped the line once again.

‘Thank you, you are very observant’ you said, feeling the want to kiss him but holding back.

‘How about you have bath while I do this’ Cillian then suggested and your eyes lid up. Your apartment didn’t have a bathtub but you also didn’t see a bathtub in the bathroom you used the last time when you came to Cillian’s house.

‘I feel bad. I should really help you’ you then said, feeling guilty that Cillian was doing all the work.

‘There is no need Y/N. Common, I will run you a bath’ Cillian said before showing you the way upstairs to his bedroom.

‘You’ve got nice taste’ you said as you looked around his bedroom and observed the quite obviously new furniture and artwork.

‘Thanks’ Cillian chuckled as he grabbed a fluffy white towel from the large cabinet inside his walk in-wardrobe.

The entire bedroom was furnished with modern wooden furniture and only a little decoration. Over the bed there was a large painting of a landscape in France and the bedside lamps were almost contemporary or vintage.

Across from the large king size bed was a spa bath and, behind a nook, there was the rest of the bathroom. The entire area could be closed by a large sliding door or could be left open if you wanted to watch TV.

You watched Cillian put some bubble bath into the tub and then turn on the water before changing the lightening and handing you the towel, a t-shirt and your brand-new fluffy socks.

‘I will be downstairs alright?’ he said with a warm smile and you nodded shyly.

You got undressed as soon as he left the room and sank into the hot water. It was delightful but you wished he would have joined you for the bath.

He was very different from Kurt, caring and romantic and you wished that he would let you in, give you chance.

After your bath, you returned downstairs wearing nothing but the t-shirt Cillian had given you, your panties and the red fluffy socks.

‘This was so nice’ you said as the pain in your stomach had decreased. ‘And this smells so good’ you added as you looked what Cillian was cooking.

‘Before I put all this chilli in there, do you like spicy food?’ Cillian asked as you stood next to him, closely watching what he was doing.

‘I love spicy food so bring it on’ you giggled, giving Cillian a big smile.

***Return of Romance***

After you both ate dinner and cleaned up the dishes, Cillian had a quick shower before sitting down next to you on the lounge in a t-shirt and trackpants.

‘Still bad?’ Cillian asked as he observed you holding your stomach.

‘Yeah, it usually lasts a day or two’ you said and, without asking, Cillian got up and boiled the kettle.

Moments later, he returned with the hot water bottle he had purchased and placed it onto your stomach before indicating to you to lie down on the lounge and pick a movie.

‘Seriously? You let me pick a movie again?’ you asked as Cillian sat down next to you.

‘I know I might regret this but yeah’ Cillian chuckled just as you put one of the small lounge pillows onto his laps and rested your head on top of it.

Cillian’s hands soon found your hair and ran his fingers through it gently while you searched through Netflix.

‘Please, no’ Cillian chuckled as you stopped at Pretty Woman and cheekily pressed play.

It was your favourite movie and Cillian already regretted giving you the remote control.

About ten minutes into the movie, you shared some ice cream and then you sat up next to him, curling up against his chest watching Julia Roberts seducing Richard Gere.

You were still in pain and Cillian noticed, his hand rubbing against your lower back gently while you held onto your hot water bottle.

‘Are you alright?’ he whispered while you took in the scent of his aftershave.

‘Hmm, yeah this is nice’ you murmured, referring to Cillian’s hand massaging your lower back gently.

‘I am glad that I am not a woman’ Cillian chuckled just before he moved some of your hair out of your face which was when you looked up at him, starring into his deep blue eyes yet again while Richard Gere was taking Julia Roberts over the piano.

‘I always wanted to do this…on a piano’ you said quietly, causing Cillian to chuckle again but then lean forward, pressing his lips onto yours gently.

You loved the feeling of his soft lips on yours and gave into the kiss which was long, gentle and passionate.

Then your lips drifted apart and you looked at each other full of questions before they met again, this time more intense than before, your tongues meeting and moving in sync.

‘I missed this’ Cillian whispered as your lips drifted apart, his hands caressing your face gently.

‘So did I’ you said quietly before wanting more, kissing Cillian again, not getting enough of his sweet lips.

You spent the remainder of the movie curled up against each other, touching each other and kissing each other until, finally, Richard Gere climbed up Julia Robert’s balcony ladder with a bunch of flowers, admitting his love to her.

‘God that is so damn romantic’ you said as your eyes began to water, Cillian looking at you somewhat confused.

‘If you say so’ he chuckled before giving you another kiss and taking the ice cream bowls to the dishwasher.

‘I should probably get home soon Cilly, I am pretty tired’ you said as you got up, following him to the kitchen but not really wanting to leave.

‘You can stay the night if you want’ Cillian said, his hands on your hips, pulling you close for another kiss.

You nodded shyly before asking him whether he would give your lower back another rub. No one had ever done this for you before and it felt amazing, taking away some of the awful pain.

‘I could give you a massage in bed’ he smirked, causing you to look at him with some confusion.

‘Are you being cheeky?’ you asked, thinking that he intends to get kinky with you which was not what you were after while on your period.

‘No, I am serious’ Cillian said before kissing you again briefly. ‘Let me show you what these hands can do’ he winked, causing you to laugh and follow him upstairs to his bedroom.

As soon as you arrived at the front of Cillian’s large bed, you were quick to take off your t-shirt and climb on the bed, wearing nothing but your cotton panties and warm socks.

Cillian momentarily disappeared, getting some sort of body lotion from beneath the sink.

‘That should work I guess’ he said before he climbed onto the bed with you, his eyes gazing over your mostly naked body for a minute before he squirted some of the cold lotion onto your back.

His hands were magic, working your upper back and then your lower back gently before he leaned down, trailing small kisses at the back of your neck.

Goosebumps were forming all over your skin and you wished that you didn’t have your period as, otherwise, you would have turned around and make him take you on his large and comfortable bed.

Eventually, after Cillian had massaged your back for almost 20 minutes, you turned around to face him, relaxed and even somewhat sleepy.

‘Fuck that felt good’ you giggled just before Cillian took off his t-shirt and tracksuit pants and lied down next to you, quickly throwing the large doona over you both in the hope that you wouldn’t notice his raging erection.

‘Feeling a little better?’ he asked and you nodded before thanking him for taking care of you.

‘You know I could help you with that?’ you smirked as you reached for his crotch, noticing how hard he was.

‘Not tonight’ Cillian said as he pushed your hand away gently, knowing that you were probably still in pain. But, none of this prevented him from pulling you closer towards him for more gentle kisses until, eventually, you curled up against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

‘Cillian?’ you murmured, looking up into his deep blue eyes once again.

‘Hmm’ he responded with a warm smile, his fingers running through your hair gently.

‘What is this between us?’ you wanted to know.

‘I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t stay away from you no matter how hard I try’ he responded, his tone soft and warm.

‘Then stop trying. I mean, why are you trying anyway?’ you chuckled as you continued to look up at him while playing with his chest hair.

‘For so many fucking reasons Y/N’ he responded.

‘Like what?’ you asked.

‘For starters, you are twenty years younger than me’ he explained and you knew that the age gap between you had been an issue for Cillian.

‘So? You know I prefer older men’ you reassured him.

‘I’ve seen the shit you went through with your ex-girlfriend. This is going to be worse and I know much bad press bothers you’ he explained, remembering reading the tabloids when your first long term relationship broke down.

‘I am willing to take my chances. What else?’ you asked.

‘We both just came out of failed relationships. I don’t think it’s smart to start dating again so soon’ Cillian said concerned.

‘Listen Cillian, I don’t expect to be your girlfriend or us going public. At the moment, you keep pushing me away every time we get closer and I wonder if we could just give this a chance. Let’s just keep it between us and see where it goes’ you suggested.

‘I would like that’ he then said before giving you another few kisses and turning off the light.

You were still curled up against Cillian and could feel the heat radiate from his body when you drifted off to sleep. Usually, you hated sleeping in other people’s beds but, that night, you felt comfortable and safe.

No one had ever treated you so well and you were happy with where you and Cillian were at and how far you had come after all the ups and downs.

You also remembered your relationship with Kurt. Being with Cillian was all so different to what you knew. It made you realise what you had missed out on.

You slept well through the night with Cillian holding you tight but, the following morning, you were woken up by an uncomfortable feeling beneath you.

You were quite vigilant when it came to your period and when you felt something sticky on your upper thigh, you got disturbed.

Woken by the unfamiliar feeling, your eyes drifted open slowly and you looked up. It was getting light outside which was when it clicked.

You remembered that you should probably have changed your tampon again before going to sleep and your heart began to pound heavily.

Feeling you wiggle around and moving the doona to the side, Cillian was slowly waking up himself, his arm falling over to the side searching for you.

But, you had scooted up and out of the bed which is when you noticed the two small blood stains on your upper thigh.

You quickly ran to the bathroom to wash them off and change what had to be changed but you knew what this meant.

You probably had gotten some stains onto Cillian’s sheet sheets as well and you weren’t ready to face this embarrassment.

‘What’s wrong Y/N?’ Cillian murmured as you returned from the bathroom.

‘I…I think…’ was all you managed to say as you pulled aside the doona and, as you had feared, noticed a small blood stain not only on the sheets but also on Cillian’s upper thigh, which was caught up in between your legs all night when you were sleeping.

You immediately began to shake nervously, feeling embarrassed by what had just happened.

‘Hey Y/N, what’s wrong?’ Cillian asked as he held out one of his hands, indicating for you to come back to bed as he was surprised by your reaction.

‘I am sorry Cillian but I think I stained your sheets and there is some on your thigh…I am so fucking sorry’ you said almost hysterical.

Cillian looked down at his thigh and the sheets for a brief moment, unsure about what the problem was until he noticed the blood stains.

‘So? I will wash the sheets and have a shower, who cares’ Cillian said with a raised eyebrow before pulling you onto him.

‘That’s so embarrassing’ you said but Cillian disagreed.

‘No, it’s natural. Don’t worry about it’ he said before kissing you passionately and you were surprised that he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Kurt would have made a massive scene if you had ruined his fine cotton sheets like that.

As you were making out, sharing several kisses while grinding your bodies against each other to get some traction, you suddenly heard a loud female voice coming from the doorway.

‘You are fucking kidding me’ Amanda said loudly and in disbelieved as she saw you on top of Cillian half naked by that point.

‘Holy Fuck’ you shouted before quickly scooting beneath the doona.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily about the fact that she had just entered his house unannounced before getting up and pulling a t-shirt over his head.

‘Getting the last of my stuff. I told you I would come by over the weekend to grab it’ Amanda explained angrily.

‘Yes, and I would have expected you to use the fucking doorbell when you do’ Cillian said firmly before walking downstairs with her.

‘I cannot believe that Kurt was actually right’ Amanda said almost hysterical and you could hear her and Cillian argue from the bedroom.

‘Right about what?’ Cillian asked.

‘That you are fucking her. God that’s so disgusting, you know that? She is almost half your age…trading me in for a younger model, that’s something I never expected’ Amanda said with anger.

‘I didn’t trade you in for anyone Amanda. We broke up because you couldn’t get over your fucking jealousy’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, it was warranted it seems’ Amanda said.

‘I never fucking cheated on you’ Cillian yelled and it was at this point that Amanda began to shout, calling you and Cillian names.

Eventually, Cillian kicked Amanda out of his house and immediately called a locksmith before driving you home.

***First Date***

You didn’t expect to hear from Cillian for the remainder of the day, especially in light of what happened with Amanda and the fact that he told you last night that he wasn’t sure where this was going between you. But, to your surprise, at around 2 o’clock you received a call from him.

During the call, Cillian asked whether you felt like going for dinner with him at restaurant near your house.

Was this a date, you wondered? It sure sounded like a date. If it was a date, did it mean that he no longer cared about the implications he was concerned about previously after your talk last night?

You sure wanted to find out and accepted Cillian’s offer to take you for dinner and he picked you up at 6 o’clock, nice and early so that you had enough time to watch a movie at your place afterwards.

The restaurant was rather busy and Cillian had booked a nice booth in the corner, giving you some privacy.

He ordered a bottle of wine while you looked through the menu for some tapas to share. You enjoyed the same type of food and it was easy for you to agree on the dishes.

‘So, is this a date?’ you asked Cillian after the waitress had taken your order.

‘I suppose’ he chuckled before he took your hands into his, sharing a tender moment with you.

‘Good, because I was worried that our run in with Amanda this morning put you off a little. I’ve heard what she said to you’ you said quietly, knowing about Cillian’s reluctance when it came to dating you, a woman twenty years his junior.

‘If anything, it made me care even less about the reservations I have about us’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, hopefully, those reservations will disappear completely when you realise how awesome I am’ you joked just before the waitress brought out the first dish.

You enjoyed your dinner and wine despite the fact that a group of girls on a table nearby were watching you. You tried hard not to care, but the giggling and whispering bothered you more than it would usually have when you were out with someone else.

Eventually, one of the women from the table came over just as you and Cillian were about to leave, asking Cillian for photo which he declined politely.

The restaurant was only a short stroll from your apartment and you were ready to get your comfortable clothes on and watch a movie with Cillian.

Shortly after you arrived at your apartment, you got changed into a nightie, poured two glasses of wine and asked Cillian whether he could get the lighter from the top draw of your bedside table so that you could light some candles.

As you put the two glasses of wine onto your coffee table, you heard a loud buzzing coming from besides your bed and you recognised the sound immediately.

‘Cillian!’ you shouted as you watched Cillian play with one of your vibrators, a big grin running over his face.

‘Give it here. I said top draw, not bottom draw’ you chuckled as you took the vibrator out of his hand.

‘How does it work? It clearly won’t fit inside you’ he asked curiously, his grin getting bigger.

‘It’s called a wand and it is for clitoral stimulation only. I actually never used it because it’s too intense. My sister talked me into it, saying it’s the best thing ever. But I don’t know’ you explained, your face flushing with embarrassment.

‘Sounds interesting’ Cillian chuckled, which is when you noticed that Cillian had already lid the candles on your beside table.

‘Not really’ you said before you shuffed the vibrator back into the draw and, just as you came up, Cillian crashed his lips onto yours.

‘There are other things I’ve found in your draw’ Cillian said after your lips drifted apart and before he reached for the handcuffs and satin blindfold in your bedside table and threw them onto your bed.

‘Cillian, remember, I’ve got my period’ you giggled just as Cillian pulled your nightie over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

‘I am aware. Just let me make you feel good’ he said, grinning again before pushing you onto the bed and hoovering over you.

‘Cillian, I am serious’ you giggled, his teeth grazing your neck gently.

‘Don’t worry, your panties are staying on and I promise that I won’t touch you down there’ he said reassuringly and, whilst you had no idea how he would get you off without touching your most intimate body part, you agreed and reluctantly lifted your hands over your head and allowed Cillian to tie your wrists against the bedhead with your leather cuffs.

Cillian then gently placed the blindfolds over your eyes, carefully tying the knot behind your head without catching your hair in between it.

You trusted him. Yet it was difficult for you to relax especially since, all of a sudden, you heard a familiar loud bussing sound again.

‘No no no, this vibrator is too intense. I never….oh my fucking god’ you moaned as you threw your head back into the pillow and arched your back as soon as the vibrator hit your clit through your thin cotton panties.

‘Fuck that’s sexy’ Cillian observed as he watched you squirm against your restraints and moan as he moved the vibrator over your clit in circle motions.

‘Don’t move’ he then chuckled as he placed the vibrator onto your clit and resting the handle on your stomach. You felt the weight on your bed lightening and heard him get up, walking away from you momentarily.

‘Fuck Cillian…don’t leave me like this’ you protested just before you heard the door of the fridge opening. What was he doing? Getting himself a beer?

Then, finally, you could feel his weight on the mattress again, right next to you.

His hands began to roam over your breasts and stomach while he pushed the wand back against your clit more firmly after tuning it up a notch.

‘No no no….oh god’ you moaned, your legs squirming.

‘If you do not stay still on your own, I will tie your legs up too’ Cillian said cheekily before pulling on each of your nipple piercings slightly. He knew that you loved it when he did this, subjecting you to this little bit of pain.

You inhaled sharply, wanting him to pull them again, but Cillian had other ideas and it wasn’t long until you felt something extremely cold on your left nipple.

‘Fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as ice cold water began to run down your left breast while he turned up the setting of the vibrator again.

The ice cold feeling soon moved to your right nipple, running down from it over your stomach like a cold stream of water. By this time it was obvious to you that it was an ice cube which Cillian had placed into his mouth and which he was running over your breasts.

You could feel it melt slowly and the cold water ran all the way to your belly button followed by his hot breath.

Then, you could feel the entire ice cube slid down your stomach and all the way to the hem of your panties while, again, Cillian turned up the vibrator, reaching its highest setting.

‘Holy Christ’ you inhaled, trying as hard as you could to stay still.

You were close to climaxing and Cillian had to hold you down, securing your thighs so that you were unable to squirm away.

‘Oh fuck yes’ you screamed as, finally, your orgasm washed over you and you had no choice but to give into the sensation.

It was at this point that you heard a knock on the wall from the apartment beside yours, causing Cillian to chuckle as you had told him about the letter you received from your neighbour last week complaining about the noise level from your apartment when Cillian visited you the last time.

You eventually came down from your high and Cillian released his tight grip on you and turned off the vibrator before taking off your blindfolds and untying you from the bed.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked and, surprisingly, you did.

With a quick nod and thanks, you pulled Cillian on top of you for a passionate kiss before pushing him down onto the mattress beneath you.

Without words, you looked at him and suggestively bit your lips before reaching for his black Calvin Klein briefs and pulling them down.

‘You know I just love your cock…it’s fucking perfect’ you smirked as you starred at his erection before separating his legs, bending his knees up and taking your place between them.

Cillian scooted himself up in the bed so that he could watch you and you leaned forward to kiss him, loving and deep, before making your decent on his perfectly toned body.

When you finally reached his hard shaft, you kissed the tip of his cock suggestively before collecting his precum with your tongue.

Cillian’s hands knew what to do to help you now and he gathered up your hair and hold it out of the way as you lowered your head and take his cock into your mouth, moaning as your mouth is filled.

Cillian groaned as you finally took all of his length into your mouth and down your throat. You wanted to devour him and you took your time about it, pleasure slowly building, pressure teased and growing as you kept bobbing your head up and down.

Looking up at him while you wrapped your lips around his hard member turned him on incredibly and it didn’t take long for his breathing to become laboured.

By this point, his legs straighten, splayed out on either side of you while the frequency of his moans and groans increased.

You knew Cillian was getting close and you loved watching him moan with a slightly open mouth while you slowly and deliberately wrap your lips tightly on the head of his cock and take him deep into your throat again, all the way to the base.

Your eyes close on their own with the sensation and greed you feel and each time you rise you look into Cillian’s deep blue eyes, stopping to let him watch as you flick your tongue all over his frenulum and swollen pink tip.

His face suddenly changed and his mouth contorts. Cillian’s hands tighten, no longer simply holding your long hair out of the way but gripping your head with handfuls of your hair in both hands right at the scalp. He took control, pushing your head down hard, his cock filling your throat before letting go of you again.

‘Again’ you moaned, loving the way he takes charge and he complied with your request, grabbing your hair again and making you take his length all the way into your throat.

‘Fuck Y/N, I am close’ he moaned and, with him thrusting into your mouth and you bobbing your head at the same time, it wasn’t long until you felt it, the unmistakable spurt of cum into your mouth as his body is finally released.

You could taste him, feeling the slick cream on your tongue, holding it in your mouth as you milk the last drops. Then looking up, you see Cillian’s beautiful sexy smile and flushed cheeks, open your mouth and show him the cum pooled on your tongue.

Another groan escaped him as he watched you hold it, tilting your head back slightly while some drips escaped you and ran over your chin.

Looking at his face, completely turned on by what you were doing, you smiled wickedly and very deliberately closed your lips, looked at him, and swallowed.

‘God, why are you so fucking sexy?’ Cillian asked just as you moved up towards him and pressed your lips onto his.

‘I don’t know, I just am’ you winked before sharing another passionate kiss while his hands were roaming over your back.

After some pillow talk, you eventually curled up against Cillian, running your fingers through his chest hair while his right hand gently touched your cheek.

It didn’t take either of you long to fall asleep and you were still curled up against each other the next morning when you heard a loud knock on the door.

***Meeting June***

‘Will we ever be able to just wake up next to each other without being interrupted?’ Cillian growled as he turned over, ignoring the knock on the door completely. He was clearly not a morning person.

You jumped up quickly and threw on Cillian’s t-shirt which, the night before, had found it’s way to the floor besides your bed.

Wearing nothing but the t-shirt, some purple cotton panties and giant plush socks with small bunny rabbits on it, you walked to the door and opened it, thinking that, surely, it was just a delivery. Your local postman had a habit of arriving early and you were considering getting a postal box soon.

‘Good Morning Sis’ June said and it took you a few seconds to rub your eyes yawn before realising that you probably shouldn’t let her inside with Cillian lying in your bed completely naked.

But your sister didn’t ask for permission and barged inside, putting a bag of croissants and two coffees on to the kitchen counter.

‘What are you doing here?’ you asked surprised as she hung up her coat.

‘I know how shit you feel when you get your period and you didn’t come by the other night so I wanted to check on you, that’s all’ June explained just as she was walking through your loft, not having noticed Cillian yet as part of the view of the bed was covered by a large industrial style bookshelf.

‘Now is not a very good time’ you said nervously which was when she noticed clothes scattered across the floor.

‘Oh shit’ she giggled just before she bluntly looked past the large bookshelf.

‘Morning June’ Cillian chuckled just as he reached down to the floor to retrieve his briefs before pulling them beneath the doona and trying to discretely put them back on.

‘Holy fuck’ June shouted, her jaw dropping to the floor.

‘Jupp, swearing runs in the family’ Cillian chuckled before getting up from beneath the doona, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs.

With a grin on his face, he walked over towards you and gave you a quick kiss before taking your coffee from your hand, taking a sip and telling you that he will go and have a quick shower.

He quickly retrieved his jeans from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom all while your sister’s eyes followed his every move.

‘Stop looking at him’ you demanded, giving your sister a nudge as it was obvious to you that she was checking out Cillian’s ass.

‘How the fuck did this happen? Did I just dream this?’ she asked as you were shyly drinking your coffee with some embarrassment, unsure how to answer her question.

‘Oh my god, he is the guy you were telling me about. This all makes sense now’ June said and you confirmed her suspicions and told her that you’ve resolved your differences.

You trusted your sister and told her about what you had discussed with Cillian the night before and that you were at his house, which is why you cancelled on her.

Eventually, Cillian came out of the bathroom, wearing his tight black jeans but not much else.

Your sister looked at him with some excitement, not even ashamed for drooling over the man you were involved with.

You noticed immediately, giving her another nudge just as Cillian stole the rest of your coffee.

‘Can you put your shirt on please’ you eventually said before handing Cillian one of the croissants and the jam from your fridge.

‘Well, I would, but you are wearing it’ Cillian reminded you, unbothered by the fact that your sister was in the same room.

You quickly disappeared behind the bookshelf and changed into your own clothes before handing Cillian his t-shirt and your sister sighed with some disappointment as he put it on.

Despite the fact that he had met your sister already, he felt somewhat awkward with your sister around and, after putting on his t-shirt, he left your apartment in order to get some more coffees, allowing you to update your sister on the situation.

While he was out, waiting for his coffee order at the nearby coffee shop, he received a call from his agent drawing his attention to a quite unfavourable article which had just appeared online, less than 30 minutes ago.

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

OK! Magazine News

Cillian Murphy following the Hollywood Trend?

Rumours have emerged suggesting a developing relationship between actor Cillian Murphy (43) and singer/songwriter Y/N L/N (23). This comes after Murphy has only last month been spotted at a Dublin fundraising event with long term girlfriend Amanda Winter and L/N was rumoured to be involved with local artist Kirsten Mann after having been spotted leaving Soho Bar together as little as three nights ago.

Music producer Kurt Meskin confirmed the break up from singer and songwriter girlfriend Y/N L/N earlier yesterday and revealed that the break up was due to a romance unfolding between Y/N L/N and actor Cillian Murphy. It is unclear how Kirsten Mann is involved and Meskin wasn’t able to comment on Mann’s relationship with L/N’s.

Murphy and L/N have been working together with others, including Meskin, on the United Arts and Music Festival since earlier this year. The festival is set to take place later this year and will feature L/N as well as Murphy’s long term girlfriend Amanda Winter.

Meskin said that he was saddened by L/N’s actions but has accepted her decision.

‘There is not much I can do. Unfortunately, these things happen but it’s simply sad to know that not only one, but two relationships have been destroyed by her actions’ Meskin said when referring to what sounds like an affair between L/N and Murphy.

It is not clear whether Murphy and Winter have since separated but it appears to be likely as L/N and Murphy were spotted in front of Le Maison Restaurant in Dublin late yesterday evening.

The picture appeared on Twitter shortly after the date night between Murphy and L/N and has since received a large number of comments as fans question what happened with Amanda Winter and criticise the twenty year ago gap between Murphy and L/N.

“Perhaps he’s following into the footsteps of other Hollywood actors like DiCaprio who like their girlfriends much younger” one person commented on Twitter.

Neither L/N or Murphy have commented on the rumours but, with L/N’s social media presence, it is probably just a matter of time until a statement is received.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey janelongxox @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby @chocolatehalo

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 6

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 4k Warnings: slow burn, sad feels/angst, canon-typical violence, cursing, sexy thoughts, pining Summary: When Fennec Shand reveals your true identity to the Mandalorian, you do your best to pick up the pieces. Notes: I’m sorry this took me so long!! I rewrote it like six times because I couldn’t get it to feel right. Next chapter should be much faster. Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @dincrypt @dunderr @honey-hi @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @mbpokemonrulez @oloreaa @red-leaders @speakerforthedead0 @spideysimpossiblegirl @theflightytemptressadventure @ubri812 @zoemariefit

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Fuck. Panic coursed through your veins and paralyzed you. Your brain moved infuriatingly slowly as you tried to think of a way to stop the disaster that was unfolding before your eyes.

And yet...despite your fear and despite the fact that this terrifying, high-level bounty hunter had once tracked you, hearing Fennec call you sweetheart made your stomach drop—in a pleasant way, not at all like when Toro had done the same. She was beautiful, strong, mysterious, intimidating. What little you saw of her fighting style confirmed that she was lithe and exacting—catlike in her grace and prowess. A sexy armored bounty hunter.

I have a type.

You shunted that wildly unhelpful train of thought out of your head to refocus on the crisis at hand.

You looked at Mando. “I—”

“What’s she talking about?” he prompted. You couldn’t tell if you were projecting because you felt guilty or if he really did sound a little hurt.

You opened your mouth again to respond, but Fennec beat you to it.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Even in the dark, you could see Fennec’s eyes sparkle in delight as she addressed Mando. “I don’t know how this one stayed off your radar,” she explained. “She was wanted by the Empire for years. Huge bounty... She looks a little different now—check her chest for a scar to make sure, but I’d bet her bounty it’s there.”

Mando had already seen the scar. He knew Fennec was right.

You caught the hungry look on Toro’s face as he drank in everything Fennec was saying. His eyes trailed down your face and landed shamelessly on your chest. You could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he tried to think up a way to confirm your identity and claim the reward for both you and Fennec. This little fucker.

Fennec looked at you, and you took a step back involuntarily. “You’ve gotten sloppy, baby. There’s been chatter for weeks that you resurfaced on Nevarro. If I hadn’t been pinned down here, I’d have come for you myself.”

Her words felt like ice sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You’d figured that news of your sighting would probably get out, but you had hoped against hope that the blue-haired bounty hunter had been taken out before she’d been able to spread the word.

Mando was silent, fists clenched tightly at his sides, visor glued on Fennec. Pulling yourself together, you grabbed his arm and dragged him a safe distance away.

“I was going to tell you. I’m sorry,” you blurted, once you were out of earshot.

“It’s fine,” he replied stiffly, his gaze trained decidedly to your right.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered that even though it was just the two of you, his voice retained its icy, detached quality, all the tender familiarity gone.

“No, it’s not. I should have told you sooner. I-I wanted to—believe me—but I didn’t know if I could trust you. You were—you’ve been worried that I might turn you or the kid in, haven’t you? I was worried that you’d do the same to me if you found out. The longer I spent with you, the more I felt like you wouldn’t, but I had to be completely, totally sure. I couldn’t take the risk. You can understand that, right?”

He said nothing.

“Look—I really want to be able to trust you. I want you to be able to trust me. I just didn’t know where to start. It’s not easy for people like us to trust blindly, you know?” You hated that your voice sounded almost pleading.

Still, he said nothing, a blank beskar wall. The comfortable warmth that had developed—slowly, painstakingly—between you two over the past weeks had dissolved in an instant.

“Mando. Talk to me, please.” You reached out for his arm, but he stepped back. He still wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Not now. Not here.”

“But—”

Your heart sank when he turned abruptly and walked back to the others.

You watched as he grabbed Fennec’s arm roughly, hauling her to her feet, and you trailed behind as he lead your party back down to the foot of the cliff. When you reached the bottom, Mando threw Fennec to the ground.

“Uh oh, looks like two of us have to walk,” Fennec taunted, eyeing the lone bike.

Mando jerked his head, motioning you and Toro to follow him.

“Alright, so what is the plan?” Toro asked Mando.

Reluctantly, you refrained from asking him if he could contribute for once instead of letting Mando do literally all the work; instead, you turned to Mando and supplied, “That dewback isn’t far.”

Mando didn’t look at you. To Toro, he said, “I need you to go find it.”

“And leave you here with my bounty and my ride?” Toro asked incredulously. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Mando. I’ll only go if she comes with me, so I have a guarantee that you won’t leave.” Toro gestured toward you.

You and Mando spoke at the same time: “No.”

“Either she comes, or I don’t go.” Toro was obviously pleased with himself for thinking of this plan, a smirk painted on his face.

You shot him a scathing look before turning to Mando to offer, “I’ll go get it alone.”

You’d love to put some distance between you and Toro, between you and Fennec, and honestly even between you and Mando at the moment.

“Suit yourself,” shrugged Toro. “Less work for me.”

You ignored Toro. “I remember vaguely where it was.” You pointed.

Mando pressed a button on the side of his helmet and scanned the horizon, stopping vaguely where you’d pointed. Finally, he trained his visor on you. He looked from you to Toro to where Fennec was seated and to you again, deliberating. You could tell he didn’t want you to go alone, but he also didn’t want to leave you here with Toro and Fennec. “We’ll go together.”

You nodded, knowing you were in no position to complain. Now that your secret was out, it was evident that both Toro and Fennec would capitalize on your value at the first chance. And, even now, when your dishonesty had been revealed to him, Mando still felt compelled to protect you, his generous heart winning out over whatever malice he felt toward you.

A small part of you resented him for that; it didn’t rub you the right way that he didn’t think you could take care of yourself. A larger part of you knew it was exactly why you liked him so much.

It would be convenient if he were a selfish ass. You could convince yourself you didn’t owe him anything, that you’d done nothing wrong. But no.

This is why it’s easier to be alone.

You felt both angry and guilty, an awful combination that manifested in the urge to hit something—a deep yearning to break Toro’s nose flashed through your mind when you caught the smug expression on his face as he looked from you to Mando. He was enjoying the palpable tension that had materialized between you a little too much.

“Watch her,” Mando reminded Toro, gesturing to Fennec. “And don’t let her get near the bike. She’s no good to us dead.”

Without a look or a word to you, he turned and started toward the dewback.

***

You walked in awkward silence, knowing you’d have to be the one to break it, but you delayed the inevitable, admiring the array of stars spread out above you. Mando stomped up and down the swells of sand, staying several paces ahead.

You meandered your way through a storm conflicting emotions: anger at yourself for getting into this situation (rightful), anger at Mando for being infuriatingly honorable (misplaced), guilt that you’d hurt Mando (well-founded), fear about your safety (appropriate), fear that Mando was about to break your heart a little bit (honest), irritation that you were trekking through a damn desert and there was an aggressive amount of sand in your boots (fair but trivial)... and a myriad of others that were too nuanced to unpack.

After deliberating for a long time, you decided to take an offensive position and offer to leave preemptively to save Mando the trouble (and to save yourself from having to hear that from him). You steeled yourself with a deep breath and interrupted the oppressive quietude of the night, jogging for a moment to catch up with him.

“We can go our separate ways when we get back to Mos Eisley. I know I’m too much of a liability to keep around, especially with the kid.”

He turned his head to look at you, the night sky reflected in his visor.

“I have enough credits to get off world some other way.”

“If that’s what you want.”

It killed you a little just how much it wasn’t what you wanted. You were supposed to be totally independent—you’d chosen this life when you joined the Rebel Alliance, knowing that if by some miracle you managed to survive, you’d be hunted for years. The call for your blood wouldn’t—and didn’t—end with the Battle of Endor, especially when Imperial remnants remained strong. And years ago, condemning yourself to this life for a just cause had seemed brave and romantic. Now, here you were, desperate to build a connection with someone else, despite the risk. And you were starting to think that truly being brave would mean accepting that risk.

At what point is it worth giving up ease for happiness, for something more?

You gathered up what nerve you could muster and took a leap.

“It’s not what I want, but I know you feel betrayed. I really am sorry I didn’t tell you—I was planning to, but I was scared. Scared that you’d take advantage of that... scared that you’d take back your offer to stick together. And the longer I waited, the harder it got to come clean.”

“I understand.”

The frostiness of his voice had given way to something a shade softer, but it still hadn’t returned to its former warmth.

You nodded.

As it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else, the disappointment started to settle in, trickling into the hollow of your chest. He understood, but it evidently didn’t change the fact that the fragile trust that had evolved between you was shattered.

Well, fuck.

You suppressed the wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you, focusing instead on making a new plan for yourself. There would be time to work through the feelings later, alone. Your thoughts wandered to where you might go next, running through a mental list of options. Nothing sounded appealing.

None of the places that came to mind would be stocked with a shiny, withholding Mandalorian and an ancient green toddler.

You walked for another twenty minutes before Mando spoke again.

“I want to trust you too.”

You stopped. “What?”

He halted too, turning to face you. The dark sky painted his beskar deep shades of liquid indigo, speckled with pinpricks of starlight, that moved as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I wish you... uh... had felt safe enough to tell me that, but I understand why you didn’t.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “Wait. You’re not mad?”

“I haven’t given you any reason to be open with me. And I guessed you were running from something.”

“Oh.”

“The Empire part caught me off guard—but I knew there was something.”

Of course he’d figured it out...that seemed so obvious now. He’d be able to spot that from a mile away. Plus, he knew you. You spent the last month or so learning his tells and quirks, but you hadn’t stopped to think that he was doing the same with you.

He continued: “But the kid and I are also wanted by the Empire. We’d have the same problem even if you weren’t here.”

“True...” You were struggling to recover from the whiplash.

“What are you wanted for?”

“I was an Intelligence Officer in the Alliance.” It had been years since you’d shared this information with anyone, but the words fell from your lips as naturally as if you said them every day, like you’d been ready to tell him all along and your mouth had finally caught up with your heart.

“Yeah, that makes more sense,” he said. “Explains a lot of your skills.”

You scoffed. “Fair.”

Mando cleared his throat and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “But... it’s...uh, nice to not always be alone.” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a shrug, a little embarrassed.

Relief washed over you.

You smiled. “For me too.”

“Good,” he agreed, nodding decisively.

“Shit, you really let me think you were furious,” you laughed, feeling infinitely lighter but still trying to wrap your mind around this abrupt turn.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I was... trying to figure some things out.”

You shook your head in exasperation and started walking again, but you froze when he said your real name. You’d known your name would sound good in his voice—everything did—but the way it rumbled and rasped through the modulator was borderline sinful, agonizingly personal.

File that away for later.

You looked back at him, and he cocked his head: “So you’ll stay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you agreed, a broad grin on your face.

You both started walking again, and suddenly, trudging through the sandy desert in the middle of the night didn’t seem so bad. The dewback came back into view as you crested another sand dune.

Mando looked over at you. “Din,” he offered. “My name is Din.”

You glanced up at him, surprised. “Din,” you repeated back to him, feeling it out.

Despite the contradictory definition of the word, it suited him. He was the opposite of a cacophony, a man of few words—though to be fair, he did often cause a commotion. But as a name... Din was short, to the point. It evoked a lot of feeling for just three letters, and that felt right.

“I know your real name now. I thought it was only fair that you know mine too, but only use it when it’s just me and you and the kid,” he explained.

Your throat was unexpectedly tight.

You reached over to squeeze his arm at the elbow, where there was a gap in the beskar. He didn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” you answered, looking up into his visor.

You hoped he understood that you were thanking him for more than just his name—for his understanding, for his trust, for his protection, for his vulnerability. You couldn’t say that all out loud at the moment, but you hoped he knew.

He dipped his helmet in acknowledgement, and you dropped your hand.

When you finally reached the dewback, Din approached slowly, speaking to it in a calm, lilting voice. It warmed to him slowly, and he grabbed the reins.

He hauled himself up onto its back and then extended a hand down to you. You took it, and he pulled you up easily to sit behind him. You wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Is this okay?” You weren’t really sure why you asked this time. Things had shifted between the two of you, so you were compelled to check that the casual contact was still welcome.

He cleared his throat: “Yeah, fine,” he confirmed.

It had been a long time since you’d been physically affectionate with anyone, besides the occasional casual, short-lived tryst. It was nice to wrap your arms around someone familiar and comfortable, someone who knew you.

The dewback started forward. Din directed it back toward the cliffs with the reins in his fist. It wasn’t a huge distance, but the dewback was a slow means of transportation.

You had little idea what all this meant for your daily reality with Din. You had both shared that you wanted companionship, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was interested in anything more than that. However, for you at least, this was undeniably no longer a superficial interest that you harbored; you had real affection for him. And it seemed like he maybe was starting to feel same way about you? Or maybe he was just getting comfortable with having companionship? The man was starved for human interaction, so it was hard to know if he was warming up to you or warming up to companionship in general.

One step at a time.

Time slipped by as the dewback lumbered on. You rested your cheek against the scratchy fabric of his cape and closed your eyes. The rhythmic movement, the darkness, and comfort of the position lulled you into a light sleep.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when Din woke you, squeezing your now limp arm that was resting on his thigh above his beskar plate.

“Alive back there?” he asked in a low voice.

Leaned against him, still groggy with sleep, you felt the question rumble through his chest.

You sat up straight, pulling your arms back to your sides. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. We’re close.”

The two suns had risen, bathing the landscape in the golden glow of early morning. You looked around and saw that you were a short distance from where you’d left Toro and Fennec. You couldn’t see them yet, but you figured they were hidden behind one of the many large boulders strewn across the landscape.

As you drew nearer, though, you could tell something was wrong. Only one figure came into view—and it was crumpled on the ground. Din registered this as well: his shoulders stiffened, and he pulled the reins tight to halt the dewback’s slow advance.

It was Fennec’s body on the ground. Toro was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“You were right about him,” said Din. “Stay here.”

Din dismounted and approached Fennec’s body. She looked dead, but he crouched to check. He tried to find a pulse, and after a moment, he stood back up and shook his head.

As Din walked back toward you, the realization dawned on you both at the same time.

“He didn’t—”

“The kid—”

“She must have—”

“We have to—”

Din hurried back onto the dewback and directed it toward Mos Eisley, doing his best to make the lumbering creature pick up its pace. It didn’t help much.

The ride back was interminable. You definitely didn’t fall asleep this time, adrenaline keeping you on edge as the hours passed. Both you and Din were incredibly tense, speaking very little, thinking only of the child.

***

Night had fallen again by the time you reached Mos Eisley. The speeder bike that Toro had been riding was parked outside Peli’s. Fury and fear spidered through your veins at the thought of him with the kid.

Din jumped off the side of the dewback and looked up at you expectantly, his arms outstretched. You maneuvered your leg over the side and slid down a bit until his hands gripped your hips, and he lowered you until your feet hit the sand. You could have easily jumped down on your own. He knew that. You knew that. You’d let him help you anyways.

You paused outside the bay to draw your blasters.

“Here,” Din offered you the flash charge.

You slipped it into your jacket sleeve, where it stayed tight against your wrist. Together, you crept through the door and down the stairway that opened up to where the Razor Crest was parked. It was eerily quiet.

You scanned the space, jumping slightly when one of Peli’s pit droids scurried past.

“Took you guys long enough.”

Toro walked slowly down the open ramp of the Crest, the barrel of the blaster in his hand pressed to Peli’s back. The child was held in his other arm.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh?” he sneered.

The urge to hit him flared up so acutely that you clenched your fists. You hissed at him: “Don’t you da—”

“Drop your blasters and raise ‘em,” he ordered, cutting you off.

You and Din exchanged a look before throwing your blasters to the ground. In a subtle movement, you shifted the charge from your sleeve to your fist as you placed your hands behind your head.

“Cuff ‘em,” commanded Toro, nudging Peli forward and throwing two sets of cuffs to the ground.

She moved toward Din.

“No, start with her,” Toro drawled, jutting his chin toward you. “To think I almost cut Mando out of this deal,” he laughed. “I would have gotten you and Fennec, but this is so much better. I get to collect the bounty on you and this target here that Mando helped escape,” he pointed his gun at the baby and all your muscles tensed in protective rage, “...and I get to turn in the legendary Mandalorian himself—a Guild traitor.”

Peli walked behind you. You grasped the charge in your fist so that she would be able to see the top of it. You heard her quiet, sharp intake of breath.

“Fennec was right,” Toro continued smugly. “Bringing you three in won’t just make me a member of the Guild—it’ll make me legendary. Three high-value targets on my first try. Wow, I should really thank you guys.”

Peli was fumbling with the cuffs behind you, taking longer than necessary on purpose.

You hoped she was ready to duck because you’d heard enough of Toro’s self-congratulatory monologue. You released the charge.

In the split second of blinding light, you, Din, and Peli sprinted in opposite directions, taking cover. Toro groaned and attempted to cover his eyes, shooting blindly at the empty space where you had been standing.

Din took Toro out in one shot.

You were closest to where he fell, so you charged forward with your blaster trained on his body. The baby wiggled out of Toro’s arms and ran toward you. His big eyes were watery and his arms stretched toward you, his fingers making little grabby motions. He chittered nervously as you scooped him up with your free arm, and he buried his head in your shoulder.

You kicked Toro’s blaster away from his body as Din approached to make sure he was dead. After he checked his pulse, Din tugged the pouch of credits from Toro’s belt and tossed it to Peli. “Here,” he said.

With a gasp, she caught it and emptied the pouch in her hands. Credits tumbled out, a few falling to the ground.

“That cover us?” Din asked.

Peli looked shocked, scrambling to pick them all up. “Yeah... uh, yes. This is gonna cover you.” It was clearly far more than she was expecting.

You passed the child over to Din, and he looked down at the baby, tilting his helmet in...what? Affection? Relief? This was a head tilt you hadn’t defined yet.

Peli approached him and looked down at the child. “You take care of him, you hear?”

Din nodded.

“Thank you for watching him,” you said to Peli, genuinely grateful that she had turned out to be trustworthy.

“Besides getting held at gunpoint... I guess it wasn’t too bad,” she replied, smiling down at the baby. She’d clearly grown fond of him, and you couldn’t blame her. After a moment, Peli mumbled a goodbye and walked away, eagerly counting the credits in her hands, her pit droids skittering after her.

You stood there, finger caught between three tiny green ones, as the kid babbled and cooed up at you. When you looked up, Din’s helmet was trained on your face.

He tipped his head toward the open ramp of the Crest in a wordless invitation.

You smiled at him, a comforting warmth settling in your chest, and he followed you into the hull.

***

Chapter 7

#tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #my writing #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #reader insert #mandalorian reader insert #din djarin reader insert

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Hold you to it (h.s)

Pairing: Harry Styles X Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Harry’s home for a mini break and you plan to take advantage of his time.

Warnings: SMUT. Oral (female reciving) Face sitting. Mentions of masturbation. Language. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2.2 k

Author’s Note: Hey! I’m back with another Harry piece! I’m still new to writing smut and I really hope you like it. Reblogs, feedback, comments and likes are more than welcome and encouraged ❤️ hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Picture found on Pinterest

Anon: can you do a fic like perks(calum hood), but instead its with Harry and its his facial hair instead of thighs?

You were so thankful for Olivia Wilde.

That was the only thought running through your head as you rested your back against the kitchen counter, sipping on your coffee as you watched your boyfriend play with different strumming patterns on his guitar in the living room.

Harry has always been a morning person, you knew you’d die before you see the day where he slept in more than you on a weekend. His bright smile always lit up the room, just like the sun itself when it sets through the window curtains of your shared bedroom. And today was no different.

After weeks of filming away from home, Olivia sent everyone home for a mini holiday before resuming filming the last shots of Don’t Worry Darling. And you couldn't be more grateful for that.

Harry took that opportunity to the max, planning to stay home for as long as it was physically possible. He felt incredibly guilty for leaving you alone all of these past months, even if you reassured him that you understood why he had to do it and that he had your complete support. But he was dead set on making it up to you, and so he did.

The first day came and went as you spent it tangled in the sheets, only getting out of bed when you really needed to, but never going too far to miss each other's warmth, catching up to all the things you missed, all the kisses you couldn't give and all the moments just being by his side.

The second day was not much different and neither was the third or fourth. All of your moments were spent together and you wouldn't have it any other way. You would never admit it to yourself, but you were secretly glad that Harry was as clingy as you.

It was almost like a drug, the love you had for each other. It was too much but at the same time it never seemed like enough. You would give the world to each other if it were possible, but you knew that your world was made as long as you were together.

You were addicted to him in every possible way. You knew his secrets and he knew yours. He knew just where to touch you, to kiss you, to love you, and you knew just how to make him feel like the king of the world as long as you were his queen. He showered you in delicate details that knew would make you happy, going from something simple as to make you coffee in the morning, to giving you the most expensive lingerie for you to show it off only to him. For him, you were his rock, his anchor to earth when the world became too much, sometimes even feeling like you were the only real thing he had and he would be an idiot not to appreciate you, to love you like you deserve.

Yet, sometimes you wonder if you could love him better, if you could ever be enough to deserve his kind of love. You knew if he could hear your thoughts right now, he would make all of those insecure thoughts go away with just a simple kiss. It was so easy to love him, so much so that you believe you’d never really love till him.

And, as you watch his fingers move against the strings, you know you will never love someone as much as him.

You held your mug closer to your chest, smiling as you recognized the melody he was playing. He knew your favorite songs by heart and he proudly sang them to you whenever you were around. This simple detail let you know that he was aware of your presence, even when his back was facing you. So you didn’t waste anymore time as you went up to him and sat beside him on the sofa.

“How’d you know that I was awake?” You asked, resting your head in the palm of your hand as you laid your elbow on the couch.

Harry just smiled without looking at you and without stopping his strumming “I always know it’s you” He said, his voice husky as it was still early “Hard to ignore your stare, my love”

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide the red that stained your cheeks at the sound of the pet name. Even after all this time you still get butterflies when he called you sweet names.

You concentrated all your attention on watching him as he played his guitar with such skill. You smiled as you watched how his curls started growing again, he had to cut his hair on a retro style for the movie and he always had to keep it neat and proper, but today it was just flying around everywhere with no direction, some of them even falling on his forehead on a perfect little curl that just made him seem angelical. You watched as his hands moved along the strings, his long fingers pressing the right chords as his strumming never stopped. You always loved his hands, his delicate touch igniting fires in you everytime he wandered your body like it was a finest piece of art and he was the sculptor.

Soon, your thoughts went deeper as you remembered the way those same fingers left their mark at the sides of your body, holding you tighter and closer to him as he fucked you roughly through the night. Touching every part of you that needed to be touched as he made you reach your climax over and over again.

You were so deep into your own mind as memories of the night before came flooding in, making you close your legs a little harder in order to feel some kind of friction that could ease your ache, that you didn’t notice that the song had stopped and that those beautiful green eyes you love so much were staring at you now.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked with a smirk, almost like he could read your dirty thoughts with just a look into your eyes.

You placed your mug on the coffee table, scooting closer to him at the same time he put his guitar to the side and rested his arm over your shoulders. You laid your head into his shoulders, lifting your gaze to meet his “Kiss me”

Harry needn’t to be told twice cause in the second you finished your sentence his hand was already flying to your cheek to pull you closer to him and capturing his lips with yours.

You were completely intoxicated on his lips, on the way they moved in sync with yours and the way that his tongue took control almost immediately, allowing him to deepen the kiss till you saw nothing but stars behind your eyes. Soon, his other hand moved to your back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his hardening cock.

“Feel what you’re doing to me, baby” He said with a groan after you started grinding his growing over his sweatpants.

“Harry..” You moaned as his lips moved from your mouth, to your jaw and to your neck, tracing the marks he already left and leaving new ones for you to see later. You loved the way he claimed you with every kiss, every bite. But you especially loved the way his scruffy beard was burning your skin with every move he made, making you crave that sensation over your whole body and more “I missed this”

Harry chuckled lightly, his hands going from your ass cheeks to under his shirt that you were wearing, grabbing your sides and making you grind ever harder against him, spreading your arousal all over him “If I remember correctly, we were in the same position a few hours ago, love”

“No,” You whined “I missed this” You grabbed his face softly, your fingers running over his cheeks and his scruffy beard and mustache “I’m so glad you are not filming anymore”

Whenever he had to be on set, Harry had to maintain his face clean as a baby in order to stay in character. You had complained a lot about it since you always love his facial hair, that month where he left his moustache growing was still one of your highlights of the year. And Harry was well aware of how much you like it, so for this break he let it grow all over again, knowing how much fun you’ll have with it.

He smirked like the devil before pressing his lips to your ear and whispering “If you missed it so much then why don’t you ride it?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as he said those words, feeling your arousal grow with every moment passed “Harry..”

“Be a good girl for me, Y/N” He said, lifting your shirt and throwing it somewhere around the room. His hands immediately flew to your chest, massaging your nipples “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t ya darling?”

“Y-yes!” Was all you managed to say before Harry laid on the couch and pulled you on top of him. He waited for you to take off your drenched panties as he positioned himself on his back.

You put your hands at the sides of his face, lowering your head for one last kiss as Harry’s hand slapped your ass in order to get you to stop.

“I need to taste that little pretty pussy of yours” He said before pecking a kiss to your lips and giving you another slap on your ass.

Your legs were shaking with anticipation as you placed your center over Harry’s mouth, almost cumming right there and there when you heard him moan at the sight of your naked pussy.

“You are soaked, my love” He said, kissing the inside of your thighs “All of this for me?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, but right now you didn’t give a damn “For you, Harry” You moaned, feeling his breath over your center “All for you, always”

“Hmm, good” Harry said before grabbing you by the sides of your hip and pulling you into him by surprise.

You let out a loud moan when his tongue lapped at your entrance, licking every single spot before moving to your aching clit. He started kissing your bundle of nerves, biting it lightly before he started sucking you clean.

“Oh my god” You said, hand flying to Harry’s head and tugging hard on his curls as he moved his face between your thighs, creating that burning sensation with his beard that you know you’d feel for days to come.

Harry started licking you up and down, holding on to your hips and moving them as he deemed fit, stopping at your clit every few movements to tease you as much as he could. He could die happy between your legs, savoring every part of you like you were his last meal on death row. He absolutely adored the way you tugged on his hair, making him moan as he felt you shiver above him with all your little dirty sounds going straight to his hard cock. It might be the little narcissist in him, but he relished in the fact that he was the only one who could make you come undone using only his mouth.

He knew you were close without even having to look at you. Your moans became louder and louder and your tug on his hair was almost painful. He loved that.

“You’re close, baby?” He asked in between your legs.

“S-so close, Harry. Baby. So close” You whimpered.

Suddenly, Harry’s movements stopped as his hands let go of your hips. Making you let out a desperate cry.

“Earn it”

That was all he had to say before you started grinding yourself onto his mouth. Your hips moved at a fast pace as you were selfishly chasing your orgasm.

Harry felt like he was in heaven as he felt you fuck yourself with his mouth, letting him taste every part of you as he gladly ate you out. Moaning inside of you with every hard tug you have to his hair.

You were drunk on him, completely intoxicated as you moved yourself against his mouth, not caring about the sounds that were coming out of your mouth or the way that you could hear how Harry was touching himself as he pleasured you. All of that only adding to your imminent orgasm.

“Harry- B-baby I’m cumming” You pant, moving faster and faster as you could feel the burn inside your thighs “Oh-I’m cumming!” You practically screamed as you felt yourself let go on top of him.

You felt Harry’s hand come and hold you in place by your sides, his tongue fucking you through your climax and licking every single drop of cum you had to offer.

A few moments later, you found yourself on top of Harry, tasting yourself in his tongue as he kissed you deeply “You okay?” He asked once he pulled away and saw your pleasure filled eyes.

“You love me too much” You said, smiling as he turned you over so he could be on top.

Harry chuckled as he lowered his head to kiss you again, this time a little rougher than before “I promise I can show you just how much more I can love you”

You moaned as you felt him grind his cock over your sensitive pussy, coating it with your juices as he was almost ready to push it inside of you.

“I’ll hold you to it”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @multistann @tenaciousperfectionunknown @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

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oliviayamaoka · 3 years

Text

The Roseville Murders (Chapter 2)

Hi, just wanted to say I adjusted the plot slightly and will go into more detail with the story next chapter! This was a bit experimental and I wanted to write the growing relationship / rivalry between Y/N and Danny. I also wanted to write Y/N as a girlboss and to be just as witty as Danny!

Anyways, please comment any ideas or suggestions you may wanna see in future chapters! I have this planned out but would love any ideas or stuff I can add into the story! Tysm for reading!

It rained softly outside as you took a seat at your workplace. The desk was a bit cluttered with your art, notes, junk, and your papers regarding your current investigation.

One of the drawings on your desk was a sketch of Ghostface’s mask, attached to it was a few notes regarding the origin of the mask. Did Ghostface care for the history of it, anyways? You already theorized he was a narcissist who took pride in his work. Perhaps, he admired Edward Munch and his infamous “The Scream” artwork? Or maybe he based his persona off of it? You weren’t too sure but you did research the distribution and the company that made the masks. It wasn’t a particular popular company but it only distributed to the USA, Canada, and Brazil.

Ghostface didn’t seem too caring when it came to where he stabbed victims. As long as there was a lot of blood and something only he could perceive as art. And maybe you too. You felt excited, you already had a three year timeline. Maybe, you could get ahold of other states and ask if there’s been similar killings. Maybe even Brazil and Canada? You had to pinpoint a location and see if you could find just one name, any name.

Three years. Three countries. A part of you doubted he was Brazilian. Maybe Canadian? You weren’t so sure, you were pretty sure he was American. Y/N would probably have to go to the library tommorow to do research and use the slowly growing internet. Your research was suddenly halted when you knocked your sketchbook over.

Our slid a page. You kneeled down to pick it up, holding it as you examined the dark sketch. On the paper was a sketch of claws? No, they also looked like tentacles. Ever since the incident, you had dreams of these tentacle claws grabbing you and pulling you away from life as you know it. It must’ve been a sign of trauma or maybe it represented what happened through the nightmares? You slid it back into your sketchbook, deciding not to dwell on it. It would only make your room feel more depressing.

Beside your sketchbook was your leather journal. Y/N wrote everything in there, for mental health reasons. You included the incident and what Jonathan did for you. Your previous therapist said journaling your thoughts helped the healing process. It worked but journaling about how you killed your abuser was hell.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when your phone rang. It was a chunky, black mobile phone you got about a week ago? Y/N reached for it and answered.

“Hello?” You answered, using your other hand to organize your desk.

“Hello?” A voice answered, it was a male by the sound of it.

“Hi, who’s this?” Y/N asked, paying no mind to the phone call as she started to put some of her stuff away. Art supplies.

“Who’s this?” He replied.

“Y/N L/N, am I who you’re trying to reach?” You asked, sitting back down.

“Ah, you’re no fun, detective.” He chuckled as you stopped, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Who was this?

“My apologies but, this is my personal phone. Can I ask who gave you this number?” You questioned him.

“Why does it matter, gorgeous? I know it’s you now.” He responded.

“Please don’t call me that. And yes, I am indeed a detective but I’d feel more comfortable discussing anything with you on my work phone.” Y/N said sternly.

“Oh, yeah… Detective L/N, huh? Think you’re some sort of hotshot because you’re new? Where did you come from? Washington? Gonna take more than the feds to catch me.” He said to you.

You listened intently and stopped for a moment. Catch him? Must be a stupid prank. Although, not a funny one since he had your personal phone number. An eyebrow raised as you looked at your notes on Ghostface.

“You still haven’t told me your name. Let’s not be rude, yeah?” You responded, being a little more cocky since you were off-duty.

“Awe, don’t tell me you forgot my name. I’ll give you a hint… I’ve been quite famous lately. In fact, I think you’ve taken quite the interest in me, Y/N.” The man teased. It was 100% Danny.

“I asked for a name, not an alias.” You said.

“Maybe after dinner, hotshot.” Danny said to you as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m not in Roseville to play games. Either verify you are who you claim to be or quit wasting my time.” Y/N spoke with a stern tone.

“My last victim had three stab wounds to the throat. It was going to be two but their scream wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. And they had a tattoo on their upper thigh. Bella Smith.” He said as you froze for a moment.

It was true. The latest murder victim was a middle-aged woman named Bella Smith who worked at a convenience store. She had multiple stab wounds but it was pretty much impossible to see she had three wounds on her throat just looking at photos of the crime scene.

“Okay and how did you get my number? I imagine the infamous Ghostface doesn’t have access to these types of things. How do I know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank orchestrated by my coworkers?” You questioned.

“Honey, I am Roseville. Also sounds like you have experience with these kinds of things. You ever get humiliated like that?” Danny asked, grinning widely.

“No, it’s just a very logical conclusion. And why would you be talking to me anyways?” You asked him.

While you spoke to him, you quickly wrote down what he said and what he sounded like. You quickly speculated what his age may be, maybe 25?

“I keep tabs on the cops who are investigating my work and to be honest? They’re all stupid, it’s pathetic. Although, I noticed something about you. You come from one of the big cities, don’t you? You’re actually smart compared to those other pigs.” He said.

“Those pigs you speak of have tried their best in pursuing you. They have families too.” You responded.

“Really, huh? You’ve only been here three weeks? I think you should just trust me on this one because those other officers really don’t know what they’re doing. If you actually find out who I am, are they gonna give you credit? The newbie? A woman?” He asked.

“I don’t understand why gender is an issue. And why would they try to steal credit?” You questioned.

“They’re stuck in this shit hole city and I bet they could just really use a promotion right now. They want so badly to be the hero that arrests me… but first, they’ll let the freshly graduated detective do the work. It’s so easy to overshadow women in this world.” Danny said.

“Well, I don’t care. As long as you’re put behind bars.” Y/N responded.

“The bars at this station? I must say, your desk is quite cute. A bit plain but I like your style… interesting files too.” He mused.

“Huh?” You responded, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Your lil’ office at the station, I like it. This place has always been easy to break into. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Their security sucks and their morgue is just too damn small.” Danny said as you frantically looked around, shoving your shoes on.

“I’m going to call them right now and tell them you’re there. That was a stupid move on your part.” You said, practically yelling.

“So young and naive. I’ll be long gone.” He responded, chuckling as you hung up.

“Fuck, shit!” You said, quickly dialling the number to the police station.

You practically flung your door open, sprinting down the hallway and out through the front doors of the apartment complex after three flights of stairs. Your heart rate increased as you continued running down the sidewalk, feeling more frantic when there was no answer.

“Answer…!” You yelled, calling the emergency number.

“911, how can I help you?” A staticky voice answered as you continued running.

“I’m Detective Y/N L/N! Please inform the police station that there’s an intruder! He might be armed and dangerous! Do not touch anything since there may be forensic evidence!” You instructed.

“Oh—yes, right away, ma’am!” The dispatcher answered as you hung up, continuing to focus on your running towards the station.

Back at your apartment complex, there stood Danny with his own mobile phone. It couldn’t be traced back to him since it was stolen and he didn’t leave any DNA on it. If anything, it had the previous owners. Bella Smith. Your apartment complex had fire escape stairs outside your window. Easy enough, he thought. His outfit was black and had some stuff hanging off it. Strings? Ribbons? Danny was quite quick and extremely quiet when it came to climbing the set of stairs.

He reached your window, pulling it open gently and hoisting himself through, landing gently whilst kneeled down. For precaution, he had his knife gripped in one hand. This was purely for investigation and to see what you truly had on him. His head tilted curiously as he noticed your desk. Your art and notebook. His gloved hand reached out to your sketch of him.

Danny was truly impressed at how detailed and good it was. He read through your sticky notes and theories. Other than the fact he was blown away, he knew you were a threat since you successfully guessed his age range and height. Wait, his height? You did a careful examination of the footage he was in, looking at objects around him and his boots to correctly guess a height.

“What the fuck…?” Danny muttered as he looked at your notes.

The Scream by Edward Munch and a costume company? He skimmed over your notes and the psychological profile you built on him. He felt somewhat panicked since you were indeed no joke. His gaze averted towards your leather notebook. Eagerly, he grabbed it and opened it. Most of it was your thoughts and causes of your stress and anxiety. He stopped flipping through when he saw a darker page. It was dark because of the writing and how crumpled it seemed.

December 23rd, 1992

I was walking down an alleyway two weeks ago. It was cold so I had a jacket over my uniform. I suppose that’s why the man didn’t know I was an officer.

At first, I thought that he was going to try and rob me. It took me a while to realize that my money and belongings wasn’t what he was after. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I was in shock for a moment. He never finished what he started. Despite being in shock, I was able to feel everything and the adrenaline only helped my rage.

Why? Why did this have to happen to me? After getting him off, I pulled my gun out and he stopped. I still remember the look on his face after I shot him. He was scared and pathetic, as he was in life. I don’t regret killing him. I never will. I just feel utterly violated. Never once have I been touched like that so violently. Is this what this fucked up world has come to? What if I didn’t have my gun and training?

He definitely did this to other women… he deserved to die. And I would do it all over again to him and to other men just like him. Of course, I had to call the police. They were going to charge me with manslaughter but they said that they would push this all under the rug, just as long as I never tell anybody. Did I contribute to corruption in the police force? This getting out would ruin everything. I don’t know but I do know that this was my gift.

Freedom was my gift for killing that man. It felt oddly exhilarating. I hope nobody remembers him, I hope his family know what kind of monster he was. Anyways, I’m being reassigned somewhere. They said they’ll give me my first investigation. In a smaller city.

Danny’s fingers trailed over the page. He felt angry and sad for you. That this happened to you. But, something arose in him when he kept re-reading that paragraph. You… enjoyed it? Behind the mask, he had a soft expression on his face. He imagined your beautiful face full of blood with you and your gun. He smiled gently as he kept the notebook.

He did indeed feel bad for you but he wasn’t satisfied with his limited knowledge of you. Danny decided to use this notebook of incriminating evidence to hold some leverage over you. Not only that but he figured he’d get to know you better if they had something interesting to talk to you about. Danny couldn’t help but grin when he thought about your journal entry and the sketches you made of him. So smart yet so naive.

Danny quickly took a look around your apartment to see all points of entry. He took a peak into your bedroom, it was neat and tidy. He seemed somewhat paranoid so quickly went back to your living room window, making his swift little escape. Not without taking some of your notes on him and your sketchbook.

About two hours later, you rubbed your eyes in frustration as another officer came to talk to you. There was a forensic team still investigating your little office space. Apparently, there was nobody here and your office seemed untouched. For about thirty minutes, you inspected any points of entry and tried to look for out of place shoe marks since it rained outside.

“Detective, are you certain it was the killer who called? We get prank calls a lot.” He said as you nodded.

“Yes, I’m certain. It was him, he knows I’m going to catch him soon.” You said as he nodded a bit.

“Okay, well, we’ll take it from here. Come early tommorow.” He said as you sighed.

“I will but please, don’t miss anything. I’m starting to think he was lying. It was him though.” You said as you turned, walking down the hallway towards the exit.

It seemed to be evening at this point and the rain stopped pouring. It was slightly humid but the city looked oddly beautiful when it was wet? You couldn’t stop thinking about your phone call with Ghostface earlier. Y/N already had some tech professionals try to track the number he called from and all of the information regarding the phone company. You’d have to wait two days at the latest for the results to come back.

As you walked through light puddles, you felt more and more tired. All the running and frantically searching for him was enough to just make you exhausted. It was all last-minute too. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she felt her mobile phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket and answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, tired.

“Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to apologize for my little deception trick earlier.” He responded as your eyes widened.

“Ghostface…” You responded, shocked that he had the courage to call you again.

“God, hearing that from you…” He said with a slight husk as you took a deep breath quietly to calm yourself.

“You know I’m close, don’t you?” You questioned him as he chuckled.

“Of course, I do… only these hands of mine can do wonders for you.” Danny said to you as you scoffed.

“You’re disgusting.” You say to him.

“Don’t lose your temper now, detective. There’s… things we should discuss.” He cooed.

“Things? Seriously?” You asked him, already tired of his bullshit.

“Yeah! Like, this lil’ notebook of yours! Really deep stuff… Victor Houston, was it? The serial rapist? Must’ve felt real good to put him down, didn’t it? Did it feel as good as you said it did in this thing?” He asked as you froze.

You probably let out a small whimper of shock as your hands trembled. Your heart pumped hard and fast. It was all you can hear as you felt your face heat out of pure embarrassment and shock. He… read your journal? This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good.

“W-What…?” You asked as he cackled.

“God, you’re so hot when you sound scared. Don’t be offended though, babe. You still sound real sexy in your cop tone.” He said as he continued.

“Yeah, I read all about the guy you killed. And how it was all covered up to accommodate you. Are you a star student or something? It’s hard covering up murders… or has it always been easy for you?” He asked.

“I-I, um… how did you get that…?” You asked him, trembling.

“You see, Y/N… we’re the same. You and I are too smart for Roseville. It’s just that I got the upper hand this time. While you rushed to the police station, I took a quick trip into your apartment.” He said as you let out a light gasp.

“Yeah, that’s right! I know where you live, I know where you’re from, and your number. I know who you truly are, Detective Y/N L/N.” Danny said mockingly.

“And what are you going to do with it?” You asked him.

“Always so straight to the point. I might give that annoying little journalist Jed Olsen. You’re trying to work with him, aren’t you? You mentioned in one of these notes… you also think he’s handsome.” He said as you covered your eyes.

You fought tears.

“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask.

“I should be asking you that. I’m a bit jealous you find someone like Olsen… attractive. He’s so boring, so normal, so… ugh, I hate talking about him. Still though, nice to know I have another fan besides him.” He said to you.

“Where are you going with this?!” You snapped as he chuckled darkly.

“I won’t tell anybody. Just as long as you halt your investigation for a while. I still want to have fun in Roseville here and well… get to know you.” He said.

“Go to hell.” You muttered.

“How original… so what’ll it be? I kinda need to know now since I’m also on a bit of a time crunch.” Danny asked you.

“W-What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit back and watch as you kill more innocent people?! I won’t let you.” You said with a venomous tone.

“What are you gonna do? Stop me behind bars?” He asked mockingly.

“Fuck you.” You said.

“I’m sure we will. But first, I just want you to sit back and not do anything stupid. We’ll see each other eventually. I’ll call you from another phone soon.” He said, hanging up.

You held your phone in disbelief and quickly made sure you had your gun. How the hell could you have been so dumb?! It was genius, leading you away from you apartment and finding such leverage against you purely out of luck. Your breath trembled as you walked back to your apartment, having your gun ready in your pocket as you did so.

#dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #the ghostface #ghostface dbd #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen #danny johnson #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight

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iphoenixrising · 3 years

Text

DickTim Week 2021: Day 5 Winged!Talon Tim au

So. another dual prompt and I really regret nothing about this one tbh. I took tomorrow’s Talon and today’s Wings and made a Winged!Talon!Tim fic. Of course, I talked to the wonderful babes on Capes & Coffee about a what if combination and this just, whew. Careful, it might break your heart a little, but damn if it isn’t an interesting idea.

Not beta read, so don't be a hater :D

Previous Talon!Tim universe posts: The initial idea, Babe and I talking it out, Talon Training Ask, Ra’s vs the Court, Talon and Ra’s, Talon and Ra’s take 2, Talon and Shiva short.

Watching B take on the new and improved Talon is really the entertainment of the year.

Once upon a time it had taken all of them plus more to take down as much of the Court of Owls as humanly possible. Of course, like rats, the Bats knew there would be no way to get the entire Court or all the Talons, not when the upper echelons of Gotham had spent the better part of 200 years creating, storing, training, and obtaining more.

Politicians were investigated, corrupt cops removed, and criminals burrowed underground once word of what the capes did to save the day got passed around.

For the first time in years, crime in Gotham was at an all time low.

But, as the coin flip dictates, nothing good lasts forever. Trouble is always brewing below the surface to eventually rise to the top and try to take over.

Case in point:

The Bats of Gotham have come up against a new threat wearing the signature Talon armor, and the call goes out to all available capes for help taking on the undead mercenary before another crime family ends up in the Obituaries rather than Blackgate.

The fact the Court is still up and running after the Batfamily took them down in a fiery blaze that ended with all their Talons gone, Sensei exposed, and most the ruling families imprisoned or poisoned by Lincoln March, is like a kick to the abdomen after they closed that particular book. Worse, with a new Talon soldier is sighted running around Gotham, another circus kid has been kidnapped and turned into the right hand of the Court of Owls. Dick, with his absolute survivors guilt, is the one to make going after the Talon and whoever is still behind the scenes a top priority.

Which is how they find themselves in the middle of Knight’s Stadium facing down a Talon that is too short to be March. Red Hood, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Black Bat pretty much got their asses handed to them in the first twelve minutes. Pretty hard to understand until you take into account the new and improved Talon facing them now is terrifying in a completely different way than most undead assassins are.

He knows them.

He knows them in ways that lets him fight fast and furious with vicious accuracy, striking at weaknesses few of the vigilantes of Gotham realized they even had.

He isn't as big as Lincoln or even Cobb, not nearly as old. He hasn't been kept in cryostasis waiting for the next generation to need his skills. He doesn't have creaks in his joints from being put on deep freeze too many times.

This one is silent and efficient, obviously trained in multiple types of martial arts, is highly proficient with or without the standard Talon knives, is a master tactician, counters the majority of their moves with alarming consistency–

and the fucking Talon has wings.

Honest-to-God wings.

Everyone had assumed the metal monstrosities on his back were weapons of some kind, but the glint of steel in the streetlight flash a warning before the lumps moved in an arch, extending far out past his shoulder blades, slicing into Red Hood’s body suit with a razor-sharp edge, shredding the armor like paper.

It’s not enough he’s got weapons obviously made specifically for his skill set, it’s not enough he’s an assassin and doesn’t hold to the same standards of non-lethal combat, it’s not enough that he can use his wings to fly or to fight like he’s using another limb to kick the shit out of them, and it’s not enough that he effortlessly counters so many of their attacks that he has to have some kind of inside information on all of them and their fighting styles.

The knives are definitely a thing when the Talon can throw them hard enough to penetrate parts of their suits in between armored plating, which further drives the theory that this is a person they’ve dealt with before. Intimately. Few people in the world know how their suits are made. Even more, few people know particulars enough when their suits are constantly reconstructed.

The only thing on their side that tipped the scales in their favor–

–the Batman.

The wings threw him off his game, obviously, but not enough to stop B from holding his own with swift and merciless force.

It's like watching a dance of fast and furious fists, blades in Talon's hands glinting deadly in the night, finding B's suit over and over and over until he's made it to blood and bone. He takes every hit the Batman can dish out, head snapping back, left, and right with the volley of jaw-breaking blows and bone-shattering kicks.

None of it gives the Talon pause. When a move makes him drop a blade, another is already in hand, cutting into their body suits, wings flipping out to defend or distract, sweeping moves and well coordinated attacks.

The unnatural appendages are like another arm, another leg, an extension working on the same central nervous system, regardless as to how the Court managed to make it happen.

A jump kick off a trash can is a lucky shot as a wing catches B in the ribs hard enough to knock him into the wall of Mike's Famous Hotdogs. The only thing saving the Dark Knight from a concussion or permanent brain damage is the plating in his cowl.

It gives the Talon enough time to make a final bid for a battered Nightwing, Red Hood, and Robin struggling to their feet again, eyes for their fallen mentor.

Before he can lunge forward to start the attack yet again, the Talon just stops, pauses like he’s stuck or something, and in the span of a breath, both wings extend fully, flap powerfully once to propel him up into the Gotham night.

O tries her best to track his flight through the city, but no one’s arms are working well enough to toss a tracker on him.

She loses him over Cape Carmine, slams her palms against her system in frustration, makes sure she gets as much footage from the confrontation as possible.

After some sleep and a whole lot of bandages and ice packs, the Bat family meets in the Cave to watch the footage, breakdown the Talon’s fighting style, his weaponry, and make theories on his identity.

O helps out with readings she has of electronic pulses she managed to capture coming from the armor over his wings. She thinks she might be able to use it to track him if they can get close enough for her equipment to ping the signal again.

B makes a trip to Arkham since Freeze apparently hasn’t stopped producing the formula used to put Talons in cryostasis.

It’s not until Gotham’s power grid has a massive surge that O and the Bats can pinpoint a possible location, all of them invested in one hell of a fight to get the last rats still scurrying in the underground.

The plan of attack comes together smoothly once they’ve scoped out the location, seen the shady activity, and together, they make one hell of a plan.

And because, you know, Gotham, it is completely normal for the Court of Owl's headquarters to have a skylight.

Natch.

For this one, they've got Batgirl and Black Bat, Red Hood and Robin, Nightwing and B, a real family affair.

O's quiet voice over comms leading them through the maze of traps and empty rooms, abandoned libraries and spooky ball rooms. The laboratory isn't the most horrific they've all ever seen (because the Joker's summer place is literally the stuff of nightmares), but a few of them do gag on the smell alone.

The plan, however, goes horribly awry when the clear sounds of tormented screaming echoes from right under their reinforced bootheels.

Black Bat's fists clench hard, her breathing wheezes out when the tone, the utter agony goes right through her.

A shudder slides up Robin's spine as all of them turn toward the noise.

Without a flicker or a word, the Batman moves, strafing in the shadows toward the sound. He can't assume it's an innocent civilian with something the Court wants, but he's betting on the fact that scream will lead them to whoever is running the show.

The medieval room has bars and reinforced locks, implements hanging on the wall. The cement brick is stained rust colored with old blood, the vestiges of training, and the awful realization they've found another hidden niche in the city that always existed right under their noses is punctuated with the abrupt drop in temperature, with the sudden charge in the air, with the zzzzcrack snapping beyond the door, replaced with a muted buzzing Robin can feel in his back teeth.

B is already on his way to the roof, Batgirl down through the floor vent while Nightwing picks the locks with fast precision, knocking the tumblers around.

Robin and Red Hood stay close to the reinforced door, balancing on the balls of their feet, katana and .45s at the ready.

Black Bat takes the high road, ceiling tiles giving way under her Bat-a-rang. She gives a sharp nod before she's up and gone.

"All right. Ready?" Nightwing stands, cracks his neck, flips his escrimas in both hands, works his shoulders to prepare for the strain of each blow he plans to give.

"Ya betcha ass," Hood murmurs low, a cut figure with both guns at his sides, gloved fingers on the trigger guard.

"Don't disappoint," Robin snarls, "either of you."

"Nice pep talk, squirt," Nightwing snickers.

"Tt, back up your mouth with action."

"Better shuddap, Demon. Golden Boy ain't fuckin' 'round. Neither is the Bat. We get one more chance a' this asshole. We ain't gonna blow it again, ya feel me?"

"Finally, something we agree on, Hood."

"Other than N's shitty mullet?"

Nightwing swiftly glares at them both over his shoulder, unconsciously putting himself front and center of the trio, ready to be the first in once they get the signal.

– which is the sound of the glass raining down from the heavens.

Three booted feet kick the door hard enough to take it off the hinges, lying against the faded stains like a fallen body.

First step in the room is the complete opposite to what they'd all been expecting.

The two Owl masks aren't the usual, but a perversion of the originals, crudely drawn yawning mouths complete with fangs dripping blood.

But.

The boy on his knees, arms in a binder holding the appendages hostage at a painful angle, is dripping the real thing. Rivulets down his chest and where his back is partially visible. Some from the base of the wings going into the back of his shoulder blades where the skin is torn and raw.

The bar gag shoved in his mouth doesn't take away from the splatters on his chin, the bruising on his face, the swollen eye. But it's his wings that makes the Bats falter from the initial rushing attack.

His wings are without the armor, are bound straight up above his restrained body with hooks grotesquely puncturing through the downy softness, desecrating the beauty with blood and gore. The angle makes the pull to his back where the wings are part of him just another agony on top of atrocity.

"Fuck," from the first Owl mask, and a swift move frees the Talon's bound arms, the appendages flopping uselessly to the floor, only his trapped, tortured wings keeping him up on his knees.

The second Owl shoves the first back, "let him take care of them. Let's get out of here!"

The first Owl snarls out something low and foreign, the phrases rolling off his tongue.

The words lock into place, and the Talon's head snaps up, snarling around the gag in his mouth.

When his face is finally, finally visible, the protectors of Gotham are frozen in their tracks.

Familiar violet-blue eyes, too-long blue-black hair, cut jawline and pointed nose. Tiny scar on his right cheek from the time he caught Ra's al Ghul's ring across the face.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," is barely heard through the Red Hood's synths and in no way fully expresses his utter horror at what these dirty motherfuckers have done.

Robin wretches, bile burning the back of his throat once those eyes swing up to the masked parody of the Owls and his bare upper body is visible through the blood and sweat on his chest, when the scars peeking through on his collar bones form a half-visible Y-incision, when the coloring of the bared wings now makes sense (robin's wings, Damian Wayne thinks with his heart beating pitter patter fast, and his stomach in knots, they put robin's wings on him...).

And the hurt, agonized noise coming out of Nightwing's chest is the only noise he can make when those dimmed, dazed eyes swing from the Owls back to the vigilantes frozen in their spots, when there's no spark of joy or fondness or stubbornness he's so used to seeing staring him down.

The errant thought, the first instinct, is the only humane way to deal with this new Talon is to put him down for good wars with the man behind the mask that only wants to reach out, wants to pull the Talon into his body and curve over, to scream at the injustice of it all, to rail at himself for not even suspecting.

Another switch flipped and the hooks release his wings, blood splattering on top the old stains.

"Get them! Don't fuck it up this time or you won't get another chance," the second Owl shoves the Talon's injured shoulder in the direction of the horrified vigilantes.

They don't even bother to take the gag out of his mouth before setting him on his target.

A flap of wings, and the Talon is on his feet again, swaying only slightly. He's in the boots and pants from earlier, the rest of his uniform tossed carelessly behind him by his tormentors. A sweep of his feet and the knives glint in bare palms, a whisper of a sound.

The curved, clawed blade glints in the overhead light when the Talon raises it and cuts the strap of the bar gag in his bloody mouth, turns his head to spit it out without looking away from the vigilantes.

The Batman, grim and stoic in the face of this surprising turn of events, gives the barest nod. From her hiding spot behind the complex machinery, Black Bat takes off after the running Owl members, leaving the rest of the family to deal with their former third Robin.

The wings flinchingly flare out and their former bird hunches over, ready for the attack.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” the Red Hood removes the helmet, leaves the domino underneath. He keeps one hand out in peace, slowly dipping down to put his helmet on the ground. “Is us, Tim. Timmy. Baby Bird. Is us. Yer family. Gotta lookit us, yeah?”

For the first time, the Talon speaks, “who’s Tim?”

And then he lunges.

The fight happens very differently this time.

The former power behind the punches is obviously dulled with the Talon’s identity reveal. He doesn’t hold back, is utterly ruthless with his attacks. He takes out B’s right knee, puts Hood down on the stained floor, knocks Robin into the wall with crushing force, and slams Batgirl’s head off the operating table.

He stands over Nightwing, wicked blade in hand and robin’s wings spread wide. He takes a knee, the sharp edge right above N’s adam’s apple, staring down impassively into the whiteouts.

“Timmy,” N spits blood, grunting when one knee pins his arm down. “Timmy, please. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I love you and I’m sorry they did this to you.”

Those eyes don’t change in the slightest. “You should not have tried to oppose the Owls.”

“We beat them once,” Nightwing gasps, “and you helped us, Baby Bird. You were with us then, don’t you remember.”

“I was nothing before the Court perfected me,” the Talon replies emotionlessly.

“You were perfect before they ever touched you.”

“No,” and the Talon leans down, puts them a breath away. “The only thing you and those others do is put the criminals back in prison, back in Arkham for them to escape again, for them to kill and destroy over and over again. Like this, I can stop them permanently.”

“Oh Timmy,” and behind the whiteouts, Nightwing’s eyes spill over, his vision wavery. “Timmy–”

“Don’t call me that. Stop calling me that.”

“You know me, you know us. You have to remember–”

“Lies. All of it lies!”

Nightwing’s chest stutters, his fist clenching, “it’s not. None of it is. Not even this–”

And he’s fast enough to grab the back of the Talon’s neck, to lean up enough against the blade pressed against his throat, can bring their mouths together, can kiss him like he’s dying and the Talon is the only thing that can save him.

It’s sloppy and awkward because the Talon doesn’t know what’s happening, gasps against the vigilante’s mouth. The tongue sliding over his, the muffled moan in his mouth sparks something in the back of his brain where the Court of Owls could never touch.

When Nightwing pulls back, stares up at wide violet-blue eyes, when the blade falls away to clatter against the block, when the Talon’s mouth trembles and tears fill his eyes, when his wings flutter and falter, fold in on them both, when his voice goes hoarse with, “D-Dick?” Nightwing throws both arms around his waist and holds on.

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Falling for you ( Falling from grace)

Read Chapter 1 here

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. Fair warning this has no plot. its just them being idiots .

Chapter 2

I woke up to a pounding headache and seventeen missed calls from one Jeon Jungkook. Glaring at my innocent phone I contemplated just going back to bed and calling in sick. But I couldn’t. As Hobi oppa’s assistant in the HR department, I had a shit-ton of work to do on any normal day and if I skipped work today, I would just be screwing myself over for tomorrow.

As fate would have it Jungkook and I worked in the same company. Although work was a very generous word for what he did there , which was basically foist his entire workload on his poor besotted secretary who was too head over heels in love with him to realize that the bastard was taking advantage of her. The girl was young, probably twenty one or twenty and like an eager to please, easily excited chihuahua puppy.

But Jungkook’s designation in the company was nothing to scoff at : He was the HOD of the creative design department and I knew that the fucker was just unfairly good at digital art. it’s hard to imagine a brute like Jungkook with a Tablet , drawing easy strokes of visually appealing masterpieces but that was literally what he did, during the three days a week that he spent at the office. But although he was good at it, he was mostly only there because his dad had threatened to cut him off if he didn’t show up at least thrice a week.

The remaining four days though, that was the interesting part.

Jungkook was a boxer.

A professional street fighter , to be exact and he absolutely pulverized his opponents in the fighting ring. Affectionately called the golden maknae, because he was literally the youngest there and so far he had always won gold in nearly every fight he took part in.

I didn’t really talk to Jungkook in the office and no one knew about us. But this was less by design and more because our paths didn’t cross.

But I had a feeling that today would be different. Jungkook was pissed last night. I wouldn’t put it past him to show up at my cubicle and make a huge scene. And well, seeing as his dad owned the damn company I was pretty sure , he wouldn’t be the one getting fired if that were to happen.

So I called Hoseok up just to be sure.

“He’s not coming in today is he?” I whined, desperately , voice a little muffled around my toothbrush.

“I have no idea, Areum.... The guy doesn’t have me on speed dial...”

I groaned.

I would just have to roll the dice, it seemed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You little bitch.” Jungkook’s voice, right next to my ear, was so unexpected that I sloshed the scalding hot water from the coffee pot all over my arm.

“Fuck... Jeez, give a girl some warning will , you?” I hissed, grabbing a wad of napkins to soak up the mess on my arm and the counter. Before I could fully finish, he gripped my elbow and yanked hard, swinging me around so fast, I lost my footing, crashing into his chest.

I stared up at him, furious.

He was dressed in a fucking suit. I took in the broad , broad shoulders encased in a slightly sparkly black suit, the drool-worthy pecs straining against the fitted black shirt and the perfect knot of his tie and felt my mouth water.

But it was the hair that did it for me. Gelled but un-styled, his long hair was a mess, falling into his eyes and he looked so much like a beast that had been forced to look civilized.

“What the fuck do you want?” I hissed, annoyed and just a little aroused. Could someone’s fucking face be a kink? Like looking at Jungkook should not be a turn on, right? Where was the justice?

His hand snapped up , wrapping around my jaw with enough force to bruise and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. I gripped his wrist, clawing at it trying to get him off but he grabbed both my wrists together with his free hand, squeezing till i winced.

I closed my eyes when he bent low, teeth closing over my lower lip and biting down hard enough to hurt.

“Please..” I whispered, terrified because the break room door was open. Anyone could walk in and i’d be forced to file a sexual harassment charge against myself.

“You think its fucking funny. playing with my brother’s heart?”

My pulse sped up at that.

“I wasn’t..... What do you mean, heart?” I stared at him, genuinely scared.

“You know he fucking likes you, Areum.... He asked you out for dinner.... You think its fair, making him think he has a chance just because you want to be a petty little , whining bitch?”

Regret pulsed inside me, my throat going dry in genuine guilt.

“I didn’t mean-” The fingers around my jaw tightened and this time the pain was enough to make my eyes water.

“ I think, this thing between us needs to end. I don’t think you’re nearly a good enough lay for me to risk hurting my family.” He said softly and I felt my anger rise.

“Good. Let’s end things then. You think I can’t find someone else to fuck?” I challenged him and he smiled.

“Oh, baby I know you can find any number of dicks to take that slutty pussy for a ride but the question is , do any of those men actually know how to fuck you right?”

I stayed quiet because he was right. I’d had enough bed partners to know that no one, no one came even close to Jungkook. He had probably wrung out more orgasms from me in a single week than all the other men in my life combined. The idea of not having him in my bed was..... terrible. We had gone through this before, some petty ass fight leading to us refusing to touch each other and I had only lasted five days before having a mental breakdown from sheer horniness. Granted he had been the one to cave in on day 6 but still, it wasn’t an experience I wanted to relive.

I stared at his gorgeous face and swallowed my dignity.

“Fine... “ I gritted out. “ I’m sorry.” The last came out as a whisper, my pride refusing to let me say it any louder.

His fingers slipped down to tilt my chin up.

“Didn’t catch that, dollface.....” He was smirking now.

I stared at him.

“I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have played with your brother you’re right. But you shouldn’t have handcuffed me to the fucking bed...”

Jungkook hummed.

“Still with the passing blame.... I’m not certain you’re nearly sorry enough. Maybe us taking a break is a good idea and-”

I reached out and clutched the lapels of his suit jacket pressing a desperate kiss to his mouth to cut him off.

“No... Stop it.. I... I’m not faking it, okay? I did feel like shit after sleeping with him, its true and you’re right... he didn’t... he didn’t make me feel as good as you usually do. It’s true. Just... I’m sorry.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed , his pupils dilating and I gulped.

“Not here.” I said sternly, knowing exactly what he was thinking and his arm came around me, hands dripping down to grip my ass, lifting me up till I was pressed right up against his crotch. He rolled his hips into mine and I felt the hardness of his erection as it pressed into my center.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance, like I was being unreasonable by refusing to fuck him in the very public break room in his dad’s company on a monday morning.

“So where? And it better be someplace we can get to in the next two minutes because I’m gonna stick my cock in your mouth in two minutes, regardless of where we are.” He said quietly , reaching up to hook his thumb into my mouth till my lips parted, and then pushing his fore and middle finger inside.

Fuck.

#Jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jeon jungkook #bts fanfics #bts #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts fanfic

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jenomark · 3 years

Text

Part 5: YangYang, The Rich, Little Asshole

➔Pairing: YangYang x Reader (Female) | Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: vaginal penetration, fingering, angst ➔Word count: 5,436

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

Kun leaned against his car and folded his arms against his chest. The wind was picking up, so you pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands and hunched over. No matter what, you wouldn’t wait in his car, like he asked. All Kun wanted was to grill you about who was on the other end of the phone call.

“You can go home.” you said. “ I don’t need you to wait with me.”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he said. “But, it’s cold, so we should wait inside your place.”

“No.” you said, knowing that if you waited inside, Kun would try and worm his way back into your good graces, and you would let him.

Kun sighed. “I don’t...know how to fix this.”

You turned away from him. Any direction that wasn’t Kun’s direction was good enough. You could still feel the clutches of alcohol around your mind, squeezing until it was pulp. You started moving your feet around to keep warm from the chilly night air, but there was an iciness to you that wouldn’t melt. For the most part, ignoring Kun felt good. You liked seeing him waiting on you, maybe a little jealousy creasing the lines on his face.

To pass the time, you took out your phone and looked at your messages and emails. A little voice in your brain told you to delete them all. No one would know or care. You could start over tomorrow and regain control of yourself. You could come clean to Lucas, break things off with Kun, give Hendery the apology you know he deserved, and tell men like Ten and Xiaojun that they deserved far better than the likes of you.

You looked at the plethora of messages from another possible future client you were ignoring. He had been pushing to meet you for weeks. Every message title was the same kind of vibrant greeting, followed by the usual “I don’t usually do this…” You closed your phone and wished you were also the type of person that didn’t do this. What you did, you also didn’t know how to fix.

You looked at Kun. He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were on the windows to your place, his face pondering questions you knew you would never answer.

“I’m moving,” you said. “I’m moving in with Lucas. In a few weeks, you won’t know me anymore.”

Without fully registering what you had said, Kun touched his hand to his heart. “I think I’ll always know you.”

You thought about taking off your shoe and throwing it at him, but violence was never the answer. “You never intended for us to be together, did you?”

Kun shifted from one foot, to the other. “It’s complicated.”

You shook your head. “I really thought you would, you know? Leave her. Not leave your kids. I knew you weren’t that type of man, and I’d never want you to be. But, Kun, imagining a life with you was too easy. It was too fun, too distracting, too much of a fairy tale.”

“My feelings were real.” he said. “I’ve meant everything I’ve said up until this point.”

“Were real?”

“Are real.” he corrected himself. “But you won’t let me in. If I knew you were like this, I would have broken it off a long time ago.”

Again, you shook your head. “You have no idea what you want.”

Kun opened his mouth to speak. You didn’t hear what he said, just watched the way his lips told lie after lie.

Of course he believes he knows what he wants, you thought. He has the right job, the big house, the pretty wife. He’s a father, a friend, and a good son. He’s handsome and good at sex. He knows all the right things to say.

You stayed silent until a car pulled up. The car was black, not unlike the one that Ten sent your way, and all the ones before and after it. The only difference was the boy hanging out of the window, his arms raised above his head, and his hair flying in the wind.

“Good evening.” he said, his slight German accent making your body perk up. “Your ride is here.”

YangYang. 20. Self-professed rich, little asshole. Daddy’s money, but not enough of daddy’s love, YangYang liked to dip his fingers into many honey pots. In the beginning, you weren’t sure you could keep up with him sexually, but as it turned out, you could. You and YangYang were purely sex and company, nothing more and nothing less. It was the most straightforward sexual partnership you had.

Kun looked at the sleek, black car and scowled. He was so sheltered away from your real life, that it was his first taste of the person you were with other men. Judging by his face, he was angry with you, but more angry at himself for being angry in the first place. The wheel of lies would never end, for him or for you.

“Isn’t he a child?” Kun asked, loudly enough for YangYang to hear him over the car's engine.

“Me?” YangYang said, looking mock-offended. “A child? Mind your manners, old man.”

The car came to a smooth stop and YangYang got out. He was wearing pajamas and a robe. He knew how ridiculous he looked, but he didn’t care. He was what he was. You looked down at the slippers on his feet and smiled. The smile stopped as soon as Kun spoke again, and YangYang noticed your reaction.

“Old man?” Kun asked. “I’m not o-”

“-Is everything okay?” YangYang asked you, not sparing a second look at Kun.

You nodded. The best thing about YangYang was that he never asked too many questions. If you said you were alright, you were alright. He motioned to the car door hanging open and said, “Your carriage awaits.”

As soon as you made a start to leave, Kun came from around his car. He sunk down to his knees on the asphalt in front of you. You looked down at him, everything in you wanting so badly to take him into your arms, to forgive him for the night, take him up to your apartment and fall asleep against his body. It was until you looked at how uninterested YangYang was in Kun that you were faced with reality.

“Don’t walk out of my life like this,” Kun said. “I’m here begging you, on my knees, on this street in front of everyone. Give me another chance. We can make it more than just sex, I promise.”

“You have a baby on the way.” you said.

YangYang’s eyes widened. “That’s fucked up, bro.”

“Goodbye, Kun.” you said.

You got in the car and stared straight ahead, not daring to catch Kun’s eyes . YangYang slid in next to you. He didn’t put his hand on your knee. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t ask you what was going on in your life, or if you were okay. It was something you really liked about YangYang: how little he cared about what went on in other people’s lives. He was the right person to call.

The only thing YangYang asked about Kun was if he was also a rich asshole and you replied, that no, Kun was just an asshole.

“To my place?” YangYang asked.

“Yes, to your place.”

YangYang lived by himself in a penthouse apartment with two floors and a view that normally would take your breath away had your heart not been shattered into splintered pieces. A fun, colorful slide ran from the upstairs to the downstairs. There was graffiti art on the walls, splotches of neon colors on formally stark, white walls as a result of YangYang’s boredom. His style of decor was haphazard and typical of a twenty year old boy, in that none of it made any sense. He kept his fridges stocked with energy drinks, and his pantry stocked with more snacks than you had in all of your places combined. It was a much different vibe from all of the other rich men you entertained. Stepping inside of his penthouse made you feel like a child again. There was magic in every corner, but sadly, you felt none of it.

“You know I don’t pry,” YangYang began. “But you look really sad, like a sad dog.”

“Sorry.”

“Can I help with anything?”

You inhaled. You held your breath. When you exhaled, YangYang had moved on from the conversation. You set your phone on his coffee table next to a set of legos. YangYang walked upstairs to where his bedroom was. Through the glass partition, you could still see him. He removed his robe and ruffled his own hair. You turned to look down as a long-haired cat brushed against your leg.

“Hey little man,” you said. “Have you missed me?”

You and YangYang didn’t meet up that frequently. He was always horny, but he had a large amount of people he went to, so that every need was met. You didn’t know what other things he was into, but his times with you were relatively vanilla.

The cat meowed at the same time you heard YangYang barreling down his slide. You met him at the end, a playful smile on your lips.

“I really appreciate you coming to get me,” you began. “I know we weren’t scheduled this month.”

“No problem,” he said. “I could use the company. Things can get a little lonely way up in the sky.”

You never asked why YangYang didn’t have a steady girlfriend. He was cute in a really sweet, younger brother way. You never saw him as a brother figure because that would be pretty gross, but there was something about YangYang that made you very fond and protective of him.

“Anyway, “ he said. “I can tell you want to get some sleep. I’ll leave you be. You know where my guest room is”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Early. Tons of breakfast. Me and you. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

“Yeah, it does.” you said, meaning it.

Even though you knew his place like the back of your hand, YangYang walked you to the guest bedroom. You and him had fucked in there only once before, but it was always offered to you as a place to get away for awhile. The only reason you never had sex in there much was because the room itself was so plain and formal. You figured the lack of life made YangYang uncomfortable to be in for long periods of time. Beyond the double doors and the slide, and all of these grandiose things he grew up around, he wasn’t a little, rich asshole. He wasn’t a playboy. He was just Liu YangYang, a lonely boy living in a lonely life.

You didn’t want to shed any more tears for Kun, or spare another thought about him. Before you went to sleep, you cried by yourself as a way to let go. You tucked your knees to your chest and you let all of the feelings pour out of you, your tears soaking into freshly cleaned sheets. You tossed and turned until the early morning, your night demons coming to haunt you. When you woke, you didn’t feel rejuvenated like you wanted, and Kun was still infiltrating the spaces in your mind you kept for yourself.

You sat up with a start, too disoriented to understand where you were, at first. Your head was pounding. It might have been normal to sulk in bed for a little while, but you got up and went to the on-suite bathroom to wash up. You pulled your sweatshirt and shirt off until you were in your bra, splashed water on your face, and gave yourself a good look.

“I think you look pretty.”

You jumped. YangYang was standing in the doorway. He had a fresh pile of clothes in his hands, as if he knew what you were up and doing.

“I didn’t mean to be a creep.” he said. “There are cameras everywhere, and I thought I might come and see if you needed these.”

You took the clothes from him and looked at yourself in the mirror after he walked out. He was flattering you. Your make-up and hair were a mess. Your eyes were puffy. You looked like you had been ridden hard and put away wet.

“I hate this.” you said

You looked at the clothes YangYang brought: a pair of jeans that looked like they might fit you, one of his t-shirts and a hoodie. Quickly, you put the clothes on, put up your hair using an elastic, and wiped away left behind mascara that was clinging to your lower lashes. You brushed your teeth with your fingers and some toothpaste, and went downstairs. You didn’t use the slide.

Downstairs, YangYang was leaning against his kitchen counter in a pink apron. The dining room table was full of food that he didn’t cook, pastries of every color and shape, a plate of rolled eggs stacked high, and many more things to satisfy his sweet tooth. You knew he didn’t make any of the food, but seeing him act like he was the chef tickled you.

“A feast fit for a queen.” he said.

You sat at the table. You weren’t feeling hungry, and you certainly didn’t feel like a queen. You looked at the food. It was such a wasteful array of things you and him would barely touch, and it made you sad. Your mind was starting to wander as you looked over everything, your eyes beginning to glaze over and replay memories behind them.

“Ah, that’s never good,” he said. “I know that look. Can I try getting your mind off of him? I could go back and fight him. He looked weak.”

You looked his way. “I wish it were that easy.”

YangYang was the type of boy who would wear absolutely nothing underneath his apron. He would lead you into the kitchen, put you on top of his counter and take your hand to brush it against the imprint of his cock. Marathon sex would ensue, and some time later, when your limbs were tangled in his, you would let him take you again. But the person before you tore off his apron and was perfectly dressed underneath. He looked tired, like he was dealing with his own personal issues. YangYang came and sat beside you, all the sympathy in the world, and none of the pity in his eyes.

“We can do whatever you want.” YangYang said. “I could take you for a day out on the town. We could go to an arcade and play claw machines until I’m out of pocket change. I’ll win you a stuffed bear and link my arm with yours, grease from french fries on our fingertips. We could stuff our faces here and pass out on my couch, you with the fuzzy blanket you like, and me with the remote control on my belly. We could pretend to be strangers that just met on the train. I’d sit next to you and tell you about my life. We could be anybody but us for today.”

“Honestly, all of that sounds good.” you said. “Being anyone else but me. ”

YangYang smiled, leaned in and whispered, “ You and me both, but, I quite like you how you are.”

“You might be the only one.”

“I doubt it.”

YangYang covered his hand over yours. You felt grateful for all the people in your life who tried to make things easier for you. Those people were never forgotten by you. Amongst all of the bad choices you made on your part, there was always someone who was ready to see the best in you. You could see it in YangYang’s eyes, the way he didn’t see some poor girl in love with a married man. He didn’t see the person who had sex for money, or the one cheating and keeping secrets from her boyfriend. He saw you as what you were, and the beauty of what you could be.

“Do I have to choose right now?” you asked.

YangYang pursed his lips. “No. We could just sit here until our asses go numb.”

You laughed. “Okay.”

“We could talk.” YangYang offered. “I know you and I aren’t talkative, but the option is there. I kind of need a friend right now.”

Making friends in the industry was one of the reasons why you still kept the job, even though you were mostly unhappy. In your loneliness, and in your ugliness, there were still people who wanted to be around you. They wanted your company. They needed your company. They smiled when you came around, and it was genuine, and infectious. On a deeper level, you suspected you were masking all of your real issues by seeing men, by being their fantasy, but you weren’t willing to dive into it too much.

So, as a friend to YangYang, you listened to what he had to say. You placed your head on your hands and watched him speak, his youth disappearing with every word. Not once were you lost in your own problems. Not once did you think of Kun, or Lucas, or Hendery.

“I don’t mean to unload all of my stuff on you,” YangYang said, leaning back in his chair. You noted how much younger he looked when he was done speaking, how much weight was lifted from his shoulders. “It feels good getting it out. That much is true.”

“Good.” you said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give more advice.”

YangYang scrunched his nose. “I don’t think I need it. Just needed someone to listen to me rant.”

You lifted your head from your hands and looked out at the view from his penthouse windows. You wanted to tell YangYang that you needed him, too, but you didn’t. You felt scared, like your own vulnerability would show itself once YangYang showed his. You shifted in your chair and didn’t look at him again until he called your name.

“You’re too good for him.” he said. “You’re too good for all of them.”

“Mmm, if only that were the truth.”

You felt the itch as soon as he started speaking. You would rather scratch it with sex to shut YangYang up, to keep him from going further. That’s how your life always worked. You used your body to forget, to shut up the world for one second. You fucked to forgive yourself. It took all you had not to reach out and start something with YangYang that you weren’t feeling, just because you could.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” YangYang asked.

Expecting the worst, you fought hard to keep the surprise from your face. YangYang saw and laughed, his smile beaming. You found yourself smiling, too, wondering if his line of questioning was normal, because you were already grown up. You thought about the slide and the way he lived his life, and wondered if he still thought he hadn’t.

“Entertain me.” YangYang said. “An honest answer. Don’t even think about it. If you could be anything right now, right here, what would it be? Money doesn’t matter. Time doesn’t matter. It’s just you and doing something you love.”

“I don’t know.” you said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“But I genuinely don’t know.” you said.

It was true. Your mind drew a blank. For as long as you could remember, passions were really hard to come by. You weren’t interested in much when you were young. You didn’t have hobbies. You didn’t yearn to go places, or to learn new things. Suddenly, you felt the void in front of you, and it felt cold and empty.

“What about you?” you asked. “What do you want to be?”

YangYang got up from his chair and walked over to the windows. He gestured out at everything, at the city that curled up at his feet like his cat. You got up and joined him, your eyes penetrating the streets below. He stood behind you and touched your arms. You could feel his breath on your neck. He was hesitant in moving your hair, but he brushed it aside and laid the sweetest kiss on your skin. It was a tender moment that almost made you cry.

“I just want to be kind, I think.” he said softly in your ear. “I want to make a difference. I want to be happy and fulfilled. I think that’s all. I think that’s all there is.”

YangYang kissed your neck again. You leaned back into his body and watched a bird fly by, soaring through the sky, completely unafraid. You focused on your own breathing, on the silence that felt too thick with the past.

“Do you ever just want to quit the life you have and run away?” you asked.

“All the time.”

“Would you ever do it?”

“Maybe,” YangYang said. “I’m not sure if anyone would miss me.”

You turned around to face him. “ I would miss you.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” he said. “Someone would miss me, so I would never do it. Keep myself here forever, perhaps until I’m too old. If you want to run away, I’m not sure it’s always a bad thing. Sometimes you just have to go and see what is out there for yourself. Sometimes you can’t worry about whether someone will miss you or not.”

“You are full of the philosophical today, YangYang.” you said.

“I always am.” he said. “We just never stop fucking long enough to listen.”

You smiled. “I mean, we could still fuck, if you want.”

He thought about it. Watching him think about it meant the world to you. But there was something about the way it felt with you both standing there that was anything but sexy. The time for fucking had passed, and you could feel the future hurtling towards you.

YangYang shrugged. “Sometimes you need a good fuck, and sometimes you just need a good hug. Both are good.”

With that, he held out his arms. You took a step forward and let YangYang hug you. You felt stiff until he started rubbing your back to comfort you. Gradually, you could feel your body and soul softening. You wrapped your arms around him for a long time, thankful that Liu YangYang was anything but a rich, little asshole.

“Where have you been?”

When you came home, Lucas had come out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, and his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Your brain created a scenario where you laid it all out in front of him, every lie you’d ever told, and every secret you’d ever kept. Catching him while he was vulnerable and naked could be the easy way out you were looking for. You almost did it, but the way he looked at you began to make you feel angry. It was like you were insignificant, and he was tired and bored of even looking in your direction.

“I was out with a friend.”

“All night?” he asked. “Must have been a good friend.”

You didn’t say anything, because anything at that moment could have been the truth. Instead, you walked further inside and went over to hug him. You were still riding the high of being around someone as free as YangYang. A part of you wanted to keep the sentiments going, to feel comfort in the life you were living. But Lucas moved away from you, denying your affections.

“Why were you in my clothes?” he asked. “What were you looking for?”

You had two seconds to come up with a lie that would sound convincing. When you didn’t, Lucas left the room. You were still standing in the same place when he came back fully dressed. You tried to brace yourself for the end of an era, for the argument that would burn you out for good. You were not prepared for the cold shoulder, or for Lucas taking his keys and walking out of the door.

You: I know you never wanted to hear from me again, but Erase Message You: I’m sorry I hurt everyone. I never meant to hurt you. Erase Message You: Can you come to our place? Send Message

You sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You swore you could feel your soul being sucked out from your lungs and out through the grate in the wall where the heat should have come out. It was freezing in the room, and dark because of a busted lamp. It wasn’t ideal for someone who already felt as threadbare as the carpet, but it was the one place - the last place- he knew to find you.

After trying to reach Lucas through message, you had given up. You left the apartment after him and puttered downtown on your own. You had spent a lot of time thinking, watching, waiting. You were trying to recall a feeling other than the numbness you felt. YangYang’s warmth and vibrancy was gone. The hopefulness was slipping away every second you spent sitting on the bed, knees knocked together, and shoes grinding a piece of trash into the carpet.

You could feel yourself at the end of your rope. You had many choices, and all of them had you quitting your life as a sex worker and searching for a little slice of happiness. You wanted more for yourself, and from yourself. Spinning around in circles, your web of lies keeping you restrained, wasn’t your ideal life. All of those thoughts and more were rummaging around in your brain, when there was a soft knock on the door.

You weren’t sure he would come. If you were him, you didn’t think you would have made the choice. You got up and answered the door, swinging it open to see him standing there holding a wad of money in his fist, just like the last time you saw him. When he saw your face starting to screw up, Hendery’s eyes got comically wide.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was just a joke. A poorly timed joke. “

It wasn’t just the tears. You could feel your legs collapsing underneath you. You felt everything fall when you saw him. Luckily, right on time, Hendery caught you before your knees could buckle. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, his face full of worry.

“What happened?” he asked. He rubbed your head and sat with you in his arms, on the bed. “Did someone hurt you? What is it? Tell me.”

All of the words wanted to come out, but your mouth was like bumper-to-bumper traffic. You stuttered and felt yourself beginning to whine. You felt ugly that you were reacting in the way you were, but Hendery’s kind eyes began to soothe you.

“It was a stupid joke.” he said. “I’m sorry. I take it back. Please don’t cry.”

“It’s not you.” you managed to say.

You untangled yourself from his body and sat on the bed beside him. Hendery was inches away from kneeling down on the floor in front of you to look at your face. He kept looking into each of your eyes, his hands holding yours, moving to rub against your leg, and lastly, going to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“Lucas?” he asked.

You shook your head no. Realizing that you were lying again, you tried a different approach. You moved yourself back on the bed so that you could face him. Taking the first step of honesty felt painful.

“You’re the first person in my life I was ever fully honest with,” you said. “But I still lie to you, too. Doesn’t that make me a bad person?”

“No,” he said. “I lie all the time. I lied when I said I never wanted to see you again.”

You took Hendery’s hands and held them. “I’m sorry. I should have stopped what we were doing when I knew you were falling in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“I know,” you said. “But it’s what should have happened. I thought I didn’t know why I did it, but I think I do now. It’s not an excuse. I’m not excusing anything I’ve done, but I want you to understand me. You made me feel something, Hendery. You made it easy to distract myself from my shitty life.”

Hendery leaned in to kiss you. Once you felt him on your lips, you were hungry for more. The long conversation you wanted to have with him was forgotten. You kissed him back and fed yourself. You got up on your knees on the bed with him and held your body against his.

“ I don’t care.” he said. “I just want you. You make me feel it all.”

You could taste your own salty tears in his kiss. Your mind was so barren of any kind of rational thought, so letting Hendery take off your clothes was easy. You did the same for him, touching his body like it held all of life's answers. You clung to his sweaty skin. You stretched yourself across the hotel bed, your body eager to be filled with something, anything.

Neither of you could stop. Hendery remembered everything you liked. He parted your legs and slipped his fingers inside of you. His eyes never left yours, even as you got on top of him, your hair matted to your face and a wild look in your eyes.

“Like old times. “ he said.

You placed your hand over his mouth. He licked your fingers and you smiled. You took him inside of your body, feeling very full. You could still see the love staring back at you, could feel it in the way he trembled as you fucked. You missed him. Each touch brought life back to a memory, like crayons coloring in a page.

Looking up at the ceiling made you feel like you were flying through space. You would have welcomed feeling lost, but Hendery pulled you back down to earth again. He sat up, shifting himself so you were riding him in a sitting position. He touched his nose to yours and held your back as you started moving.

You let yourself go, leaning backwards, feeling Hendery’s strong grip holding you up. His lips were on your collarbone, his tongue leaving trails all on your skin. It wasn’t why you invited him, but you always knew how to make him stay.

You laid on Henderys chest. Your body was exhausted, your brain even more so. Hendery looked content, like he had been waiting to see you again to feel that ecstasy. You were scared of letting him down again, but you wouldn’t think like that. Besides, after he came, he kept repeating that he knew you could never be together. You were grateful for his effort, but hearing him say it made you a little sad.

“I think I’m going to quit.” you said. “I’m not sure I can keep this up much longer.”

Hendery looked down, his chin doubled. You touched your fingers to his face and laughed. Seeing you smile made him smile.

“When?” he asked.

You could hear the hope in his voice. You wished it could rub off on you. You laid back down on his chest, your ear hot against his skin. You didn’t have an answer for him, and even if you did, you weren’t sure it was his to have.

Hendery got up to go to the bathroom, so you checked your phone. There were no messages from Lucas, none from Ten, none from Xiaojun, and definitely none from Kun. You looked through some of the old messages from possible clients and felt a pull towards them. Their happy, hopeful faces called out to you, begging you not to leave them.

You heard Hendery talking to himself in the bathroom and rolled over. You flicked through more clients, coming up on the one from before. His name was WinWin, and he was gorgeous. Too persistent, maybe, but he looked like a sweet man. Before things had gotten too crazy, you were thinking about entertaining the idea of adding on a new client to make things interesting. You clicked on his profile. You opened his messages and thought of something clever to write back.

If you were going to quit your job, you might as well have one last hurrah.

217 notes · View notes

river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there.

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super.

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door.

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down.

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t d i d i f u c k i n g t e l l y o u , d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection.

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father.

okay that was funny.

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm.

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends?

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead.

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping.

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that.

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them.

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there.

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba

#river thinks too hard #nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing 83 #dc #nightwing review #nightwing meta #dick grayson review #dick grayson meta #nightwing 83 review #nightwing 83 meta #dc review #dc meta

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willow-salix · 3 years

Text

TAG MiniBang 2021

Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...

I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project, @misssquidtracy . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing.

Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy ) for organising this event.

So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it.

Ting ting ting

“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves.

“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?”

“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure-”

“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”

“A sandwich?”

“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”

“Sure-”

“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”

“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.

“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.

“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.

“What did the cheese do to you?”

“It’s guilty by association.”

“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly.

A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.

“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.

“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”

“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”

“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.

“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely.

“I am? And that would be…”

“John’s home.”

Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”

“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.

“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.

“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs.

And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.

“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”

“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.

“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.

“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”

"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag.

She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.

“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.

“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.

“Right, got it, my bad!”

She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk.

“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.

“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

“Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.

“Of course I will.”

Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.

Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.

“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.

“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”

Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”

“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”

“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed.

“Only when it’s true.”

“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.

“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”

Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”

“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”

“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.

“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”

“I meant no one I can do anything with.”

“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”

“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”

“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”

“Who?”

“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”

“John? No way.”

“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.

Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.

“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.

“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.

Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.

“A bit boring.”

“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.

“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.

“He is not boring.”

“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table.

“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.

“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”

-x-

"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."

"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."

John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all.

“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly.

"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her.

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.

"Are you sure?"

Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."

"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."

"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work.

"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought.

"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more.

"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?"

"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay.

"Just sit around all day."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."

"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room.

"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project.

"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him.

Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him.

"What are you even doing?"

"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall.

"Why?"

"Because she likes them."

"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."

Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop.

"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best.

Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name.

"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."

"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay.

-x-

"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite.

"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance.

"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer.

"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite.

"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."

John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest.

"So, what are you doing?"

"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting.

"The same one?"

"Yes."

Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"

"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions.

"Why?"

"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."

"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done.

"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."

"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned.

"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes.

"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Because it's you."

"Hey! Rude."

"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile.

"Why?"

"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."

"Says the console jockey."

Console Jockey? He did not just say that!

"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon.

“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.

“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong.

Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him. He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all.

John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.

He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there.

His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John.

Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.

He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to.

“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”

Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job.

“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand.

“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.”

Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all.

Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.

But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy. Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.

Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.

“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.

He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.

John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect.

“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”

“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.

Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin.

“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.

“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.

“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”

Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.

“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”

He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”

“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.

“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”

John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.

“Sorry!”

“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.

“What happened, love?”

“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain.

John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.

“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”

“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”

“Because I know you two?”

“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.

“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”

“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”

“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”

“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”

“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”

“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”

“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”

Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation.

But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted.

“I tried, he’s not interested.”

“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”

-x-

“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday.

“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed.

“Grandma finally released you?”

“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”

“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”

“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"

"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!"

"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."

"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed.

"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."

"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted.

"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding.

"Yep."

Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones.

"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time.

"Actually, we got you a present."

"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?"

This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper.

"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.

"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”

“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.

“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.

Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon.

"A ship?" Gordon frowned.

"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”

“So you put the ship in the bottle?”

“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”

“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”

-x-

“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”

“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.

Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.

“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.

“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”

“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”

Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.

“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.

“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see.

“Against the list?” John clarified.

“I eyeballed it, OK?”

“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”

“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life.

“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.

“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”

Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.

John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.

“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.

“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”

“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience.

“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted.

“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”

“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.

“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”

Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.

“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”

Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.

By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.

John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together.

“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue.

“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”

Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.

“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”

John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.

“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”

They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.

-x-

“Gordon, that’s my finger.”

“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”

“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”

“Do you really need them?”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly.

“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room.

John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand.

She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.

“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.

“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.

“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.”

John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.

“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there.

“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk.

“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.

“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him.

“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”

“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”

“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it.

“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him.

“Never,” Gordon agreed.

-x-

Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.

John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other.

Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.

His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father, but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all.

John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.

It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.

Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body, especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy.

They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole.

John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end.

He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time.

He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.

-x-

“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”

“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.

At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.

“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.

“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect.

John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.

“That’s looking great.”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”

“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered.

“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”

“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”

“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.

-x-

“Careful,” John warned.

“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”

They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.

“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.

“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.

John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer.

“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.

Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.

“String one.”

“Got it. Watch number four sail.”

“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”

“Sail three is flopping!”

“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”

“Maybe if I gather…”

“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”

“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”

“Hey! I can be delicate!”

“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”

“There, saved it.”

John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.

Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell.

The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.

“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.

“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat.

With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.

“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”

“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”

“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles.

“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”

“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”

“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”

“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”

He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.

-x-

Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary, feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.

The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.

He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.

He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with.

Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.

Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John and things had never been the same again.

It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.

Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.

Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.

“Thanks, Bro.”

#tag mini bang 2021 #tagminibang2021 #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanart #TAG Mini Bang 2021 #TAGMiniBang2021

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales Shadow Into Light (Lena Retrospective): Friendship Hates Magic! (Commission by WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people! And welcome, and to some of you welcome back to Shadow Into Light, my fully paid for but gladly done Lena retrospective, covering everyone’s faviorite lesbian emo shadow’s personal jounrey through all three seasons and some brucey bonuses.

So this time we pick up in mid-season 2.. yes MID season 2. Though for once taking so long to adress things had valid reasons. It dosen’t make the 8 month wait for Lena to return and for Violet to show up, her concept art having been shown off shortly before Shadow War aired during San Diego Comic Con, any less aggravating, especially since the episode did air overseas before that but never leaked anywhere properly. So I knew she’d be okay but not HOW.

As I said though.. they had their reasons. The episode was set for episode 8 in production order, right behind whatever Happened to Della Duck? which answered the other big cliffhanger from season 1, Della’s exile on the moon. So while this episode was back in the queue, along with Della’s, which had to wait till after the christmas episode to air because said episode takes place before it. So waiting on this episode was fair on the crew’s part even knowing it was a hiatus.

It ended up getting pushed back by a week once the episodes started airing.. but as outlined last time, THIS TIME Disney actually moved it for good reason instead of just doing so because shut up. See the problem with moving episodes around in season 2.. is Della’s return. Several episodes that in theory could’ve easily been pushed back instead of this one, Depths of Cousin Fethry, Treasure of the Found Lamp... couldn’t because they take place BEFORE Della came back and it’d be weird to air them after. One features Donald, the other dosen’t but still lacks Della and it’d be weird if it did> While this episode takes place before Della comes back or was at least meant to, no one appears in person, and Beakly mentoning “the boys and scrooge” at the bin could simply be her forgetting Della’s a part of things for a second. It’s not entirely in character, but it’s much easier than explaning why Della’s not there and Donald is.

They also moved one episode ahead of this.. but it’s one I approve of. See from episode 7 onward the episodes were aired in week long duckbombs, woo-ooo. I I don’t fault disney for it or the reason I suspect they had for doing this: while it wasn’t the intended way of airing, they likely did this airing style to get shows on Disney Plus quicker for it’s debut and given they’ve sunk a LOT of money into the streaming service and it’s a key part of their future, I can’t blame them for wanting the entire series thus far on the platform at launch. It’s one of if not their most popular show at the moment. They wanted it front and center.

So this one took an extra week to air, and an extra day as they aired raiders of the doomsday vault right after Della’s return in “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!”.. which is also not a bad move. Fans wanted more of Della and her bonding with the kids, I wanted more of that so while the wait was grumble inducing, it was worth the tradeoff to get more of this character and her bonding with Dewey.. and let’s face it Glomgold. You know what i’m about at this point.

So there were delays but not the mind boggling ones that reshuffled the season last time and by next season there’d be zero reshuffling with both holiday episodes designed to go anywhere. So with the history and the agonizing wait out of the way join me under the cut as a snark knight returns, a new fan faviorite debuts and Beakly gets sucked into Launchpad’s awful fandom.

We open our story at the Duckburg Library. Man I fucking miss the library. I mean you can go by apointment and what not but I also have library card debt and stuff, and it’s just not the same.

Anyways naturally Webby is going there to research the Shadow Realm in hopes of finding something to bring Lena back. Last week was “Children’s Card Games, Dark Magic and You! by Professor Yugi Moto which while enlightening got her nowhere. Next up is “Shadow Games on Motorcycles!: How a Crimson Dragon defeated a giant Shadow Monster and brought the dead back and I helped by Doctor Yusei Fudo”.

But that one’s not in yet so she instead goes to the Librarian to get another book.. and it’s Quackfaster! Horay! As for why she’s working two jobs, she’s saving up for a retirement condo in BIRDDDBAAADDOOOSSSSS. I had to type it that way it’s ape law.

But her next book “I Went there and it Sucked, My Time in the Shadow Realm by Mayor of New Jersey Joey Wheeler” is taken by “another strange little girl”. Quackfaster, you chase people around with a scimitar. Just accept your the weird one and live with it like me. You’ll be happier that way.

And so we finally meet Violet whose introduced pitch perfectly. Webby gives out her usual “Hi I”m Webby”.. and Violet simply holds a finger up, finishes her page and gives a simple “Yes?” It demonstrates her quite nature, her love of reading and her lack of social skills all in one fell swoop. The ensuing dead language off is also pretty damn adorable reminding me of that scene from “Lisa’s Wedding” where she and Hugh fight over a book and reading it before making out.. minus the making out because these are children, no one wants that, and Webby is taken. .and even then again children. Most we get is an innocent peck and some blushing.

So Violet, finding out Webby needs it and is researching the arcane too offers to research together tonight, bringing a sleeping bag just in case it goes on long... to Lena’s unheard objections as she’s rattled by the break in her normal routine with Webby, and the possibility of Webby falling for someone else. I mean this i framed as a friendship thing... but you can only say “friend” so many times in a work before you sound like a retired grandma in denial about their granddaughter.

Later at the Mansion, Beakley is enjoying a nice quiet afternoon to herself. Turns out once a month Scrooge has “Binventory Day” where he and the boys catalogue the bin for hours giving her a night to herself and Webby. Webby loudly interuppts the peace as is Cartoon Law, but Beakley is pleased Webby is getting back on the friendship horse.

Bentina ends up ruining it a bit though by bringing up her previous slumber party disasters... which even Lena at her most jealous admits were her fault and only agrees to in the hopes Webby’s going to cancel. Instead Webby decides to make this the most normal sleepover ever! The one where her new friend is coming to specifically help her with magic.

Bentina tries to back her grandaughter/daughter down from this insane logic, but Webby does, if innocently clap back well to her being the one to give her “Be yourself” advice. “I’m not like you Granny, I need to have friends”

And while Webby quickly flees after Beakley tries to deny it.. she’s not wrong. She has exactly one friend who she works for and no social life to speak of.. and as far as I can tell she’s fine this way. Beakley is happy with her work and raising Webby and has someone to talk to in Scrooge. She has everything she needs, while Webby is a social butterfly.. a socially inept social butterfly. She needs people and loves meeting new people and needs friends and not just her family. One’s an introvert the other’s an extrovert. I’m both at times, and before you ask why yes it is a living nightmare thank you so much for asking. I get where both are coming from. And Beakley clearly had friends at one point it’s just a long war with FOWL and a sudden granddaughter probably whittled it down to just Scrooge. It’s okay to be yourself.

So this is where the plotlines split off, so as usual, i’m splitting the up.

Launchpad and Beakley in Getting To Know You And Getting Sucked INto Your Strange and Lovely Fandom

So Beakley naturally cries out “name one person I don’t get along with.. and in walks Launchpad , Nature’s Perfect Himbo, having destroyed the gate and at least being honest he probably will again. Why he’s here when the boys and Scrooge are all gone?

But I don’t care as this subplot is just.. a nonstop delight. Starting with Beakly inviting Launchpad to sup with her.. which just confuses him. Look Bentina you have to use small words.. it’s a miracle he gets up in the morning, dreses himself and hasn’t died in a tragic gasoline fight accident. You have to know your audience. Still funny.

And “not knowing your audience” continues as Beakly serves them pea soup but Launchpad is intimidated by the spoons and while she does offer to help instead tries to use all of them then a straw and then falls facedown in his soup. And this is the SECOND TIME Beakly’s left someone living at the mansion to die. I mean that’s not a lot but it’s still weird it happened twice.

Finally they sit quitely, Beakly reading the Scarlet Pimpernell, and Launchpad doing a coloring book. And besides the odd couple energy what I really like about this subplot.. is that it fleshes Beakly out> This is one of her ONLY plots in the entire goddamn series, yes really. 70 episodes and she only got five spotlight episodes/plots. But it does at least show her off: her upperclass pedigree we really don’t see often, showing that while she applied to the job as maid out of necisity she knows her stuff, her love of classic literature and her being out of touch with the common person. It’s not a ton but it’s more than ninja butler or “stop having fun with your kids della and be a parent”. I mean she wasn’t wrong but she could’ve been nicer about it given the circumstances.

So Launchpad, given Beakley’s never shown any interest in him as a person before, assumes she’s going to fire him and was just softening him up. I mean Scrooge himself outright said he never would and if he did he’d do it to your face, hard as it’d be. But that aside, he’s fine with getting to know her once he knows that no he’s not being fired she just wanted to hang out, he’s everyone’s friend. But naturally an upperclash british former super spy and a dumb as a bucket with a heart of gold pilot have nothing in common, not even aircraft as “plane go up, plane crash going down’ is about the extent of his actual knowledge on aircraft that isn’t instinct or dumb luck.

He does manage to break the ice though, mistaking her book for a Darkwing Duck book and deciding to show her the show since it might be something they have in common. At first she’s as unintuhsed as you’d expect a british lady who never watches the telly watching a 90′s kids show would be.. but by the end she’s gotten all the way into it.

It’s really endearing, showning that two vastly diffrent people with nothing can common can be brought together by something as simple and glorious as liking the same show. I’ve had it happen with me. She naturally is all for filiming his fanscript after the finale provides no answers, being the one to suggest it and the two end the episode shooting it with her in full darkwing duck cosplay. I’ts a cute and entertaining subplot and a nice contrast to the main plot which while not super dark, does have a fog of tension over it. Speaking of which.

Webby, Lena and Violet: In Two’s Company, Three Accidently Creates Monsters That Nearly Take Your Girlfriend Off Into The Shadowy Abyss So the slumber party gets underway with Webby shooing away Duckworth after clearing out her room to greet Violet herself and violet having brought pie... a great callback to an earlier joke where Webby wondered if pie was normal at a sleepover. No but it should be. So Webby welcomes her in to her totally normal room devoid of anything. Nothing suspicious about that.

So Violet tries to get her into research, specifically Tulpas, an actual magical concept, a mental construct of some kind created out of desire, imagination or what have you. Gee I wonder if that will come into play this episode. Webby.. wants to play baggle or what have you or do makeovers and drags Violet along to do the second thing after Violet asks about Magica. Lena then finds something glowing in Violet’s bag...specifically, her old amulet, cracked but still working and flowing with Magica’s power.

Lena assumes Violet is Magica and goes to warn Webby only to find her HORRIBLY MUTATED! Naturally it’s a misdirect, as it turns out Violet is just REALLY good at special effects makeup. It’s something I honestly forgot about her... i’m betting one of her dad’s is an effects artist. Just saying that’d be neat. But Webby gives the “i’m normal really even though I live in a giant mansion with my dad I don’t know is my dad and my grandma whose actually my adopted mom” game away by pointing out the demon’s fang is crooked and Violet is curious and heads to Webby’s room finding a picture from said demon. He signed it and everything. Good man that Rakshaka.

Webby is worried Violet will be freaked out by all the weird but nope, she enjoys it. And it’s not a suprise: violet is actively researching the shadow dimension. Why WOULD she be scared off. The conflict was in Webby’s head all along.. and partly out of PTSD, but we’ll get to that. Webby still tries to get her to baggle but they settle on ancient rune dice baggle and summoning some spirits. Lena scoffs.. until it actually works. It does make sense though: As we’ll see in her last starring role, Lena is kinda like Wanda Maximoff: she has an extreme amount of power but she has no idea how to use it and is simply making up most of her magic as she goes along or took magica’s lead. But the spell means Lena can touch the dice so she spells out don’t trust her.. but forgets she’s dealing with two nerds who love unlocking puzzles and assume the message is on the dice themselves.

Webby and Violet decide they need more clarity and resume the seance.. which summons mysterious white shadow creatures Lena saw before.. .some now taking Magica’s shape. And Lena’s panicked “Oh not again” says it all. So Lena tries the tried and true bedsheet ghost cliche, grumbling about it but showing up as a ghost without any abillity to speak or talk to webby dosen’t do anything and Violet tackles the sheet before deciding to grab the amulet to dispiate the spirit.. only for Lena to show up for a breif second before she does show making the panicked child look incredibly supscious.

Webby naturally tackles and interrogates Violet wanting the full story. And it turns out the big secret is.. Violet is entirely normal. Nothing to do with Magica, no possesions or secretly being her or a minon of hers... she was just a logic obsessed 12 year old who thought magic was a myth.. until the Shadow War proved “Nope it’s real everything you know is wrong. Up is down black is white and short is long”. She just happened to be close to the bin and found the amulet when the remains of the staff fell near her and compacted back into it.

It’s a brilliant reveal. See first watch around your genuinely unsure if Violet is a real person or not.. unless you went in knowing she is, but semantics. Point is most first time viewers didn’t know she’d be a beloved member of the supporting cast and didn’t know what to expect. But looking back... it makes no sense. If Magica had the amulet.. why would she need to infiltrate the mansion. Revenge? Possibly but she’d want Scrooge there too. Even being evil on her own Violet had valid opportunity to pilfer Webby’s magical items, she has an entire box of magic rocks right there and then simply zap her with the amulet. But she didn’t.. because Violet is a person. When she DOES use it she’s utterly terrified, and we can see her breathing heavy, scared.. something Magica has NEVER been of Lena. To Violet it was just a ghost. Webby hadn’t told her about lena and any information she had about her was second hand from newspapers and the like.

Webby is sympathetic, as Violet’s feeling of being sheltered from this greater world naturally resonates and while Lena is still supscious, having reincorperated, it’s clear Webby trusts violet and simply dosen’t want to loose another friend to magic. Here trying to hide it now takes another tone.. she knows Lena was behind it.. but is so afraid of it consuming violet the way it did Lena, she forgets almost ALL of the weird magic stuff in sleepovers was magica’s manipulation, and that Lena died because her creator was a monster, not because of magic. Magic is not inherently good or bad, it just is, and that will come back as a theme in a few episodes. It allowed Magica to ravage the town and kill Lena.. but it allowed Lena to exist in the first place and while the terrible events with Magica clearly shook her.. it also shook violet out of her complacency and got her to research a world she never would’ve considered. Good can come from bad.

And it’s with this in mind that Violet.. does not give up. She’s stayed in her box enough.. and now she knows the spirit is a friendly one.. she figures they can bring Lena BACK using the amulet. After all it was lena’s and the source of her powers.. it might be the key to reiviving her. And while Lena, if invisibly as always, remarks it’s dangerous.. Webby, with no hesitation agrees to get her girlfriend back. It’s risky sure.. but what Lena hasn’t gotten is she’s WORTH the list. She’s so full of self loathing from both her manupations of webby and Magica’s gaslighting and abuse that she can’t see herself being worth anything even as Webby spent MONTHS trying to save her, clearly still loves her, and only didn’t want violet getting hurt because she misses her. Webby still loves and needs her for who Lena is.. Lena just can’t it and it hurts to think about that.

So the girls once again try to summon Lena and it starts to work.. but also summons the Tulpa’s back... this time taking Magica’s form and causing a suspcious lena to panic.. and suck both of them into the shadow realm. We get the reunion we’ve been waiting for as Webby tackle hugs her happily.

But it’s soon cut short as Lena still thinks Violet is just manipulating Webby, lying to her and that “she’s mine!”

For the record Joss Whedon sucks, not taking that out on Anthony Stewart Head or the guys who actually wrote the episode. Moving on.

I feel Lena’s jealousy comes from the aformentioned self loathing, mixed with a life of having to live just to surivive at the beck and call of a throughly awful person who didn’t consider her a sentient being worthy of anything especially love. She can’t fathom anyone else loving Webby the way she does because she feels once webby has anyone else.. she won’t need her. It’s toxic and wrong.. but it’s easy to see why that’d happen when sh’es only had one healthy relationship. She barely knows the boys, Beakly only grew to tolerate her and she was only friends with Scrooge for like.. a minute. Webby is the only person she knows, loves and trusts and she just can’t risk loosing that and can’t convince herself to share.

In a realistic scenario Lena would have to simply learn to trust and let her girlfriend have other relationshps and that hogging her all to herself is inhernetly toxic and bad. And while she still does we’re talking about a living pile of shadows smooching a clone, so yeah instead the tulpas come out and drag her off..and take Lena’s form. While Lena tries to blame Violet, Violet has absolutley none of that and makes Lena see the hard truth: Lena is so worried about being forgotten, she created the tulpas by accidnet. As I said her power is raw and unfocused.. so she didn’t do it on purpose nor did she realize how toxic she was being. This finally snaps Lena back to reality, and see Violet geniunely cares about Webby and any ulterior motives were just in her head, so the two agree to work together, using a similar chant to the one from Jaws to destroy the Tulpas and save Webby.

So the shadow realm is disapated and our trio are returned to the human world.. but Lena, not being part of it and no longer having a tether.. starts to disolve, with a really heartbreaking scene of Webby holding her hand, as does violet. But.. then a miracle happens. Since the Bracelet was Lena’s link to Webby, and to her own magic, with it and the amulet close by.. both swirl around Lena, and the power of love.. for a new friend and a first love... revivies her. Mist parts.. and we get one heartwarming sign that after all this time “I’m back?!” Lena is confused.. but once again part of this plane of reality. She’s free and WEbby triumphanthly hugs her with Violet joining in. By letting go of her hate.. Lena returned to who she loved. They also run into the end of the other subplot and Launchpad’s casual hey lena is just great.

So our heroes are reunited and doing horror makeup and I really love Webby’s updo here and wish more works fan nd otherwise used it. WE get a final fakeout as Lena seemingly disovles and Violet reveals herself as magica.. only for it to be a prank and Webby to just be glad the love of her life and her new best friend get a long. We get one last hearwarming image and we close out.. with Lena finally having what she always wanted freedom. And while she may not know it yet in accepting violet.. she’s finally found family. More on that in a few weeks.

Final Thoughts: This episode is excellent. It’s not the best of the Lena arc, that comes next and it does drag once or twice.. but overall it’s a really great character piece, with a nice ballance betwen the tense main plot and the funny and goofy subplot. It adds more to Lena’s character, finally brings her back, while giving us a new and throughly fascenating new character to rave about in Violet, as well as giving Webby her own personal squad. It’s a great episode.. and only leads to a better one. But we’ll get to that in a week or so. First we have a bit of a detour and my plug.

If you liked this review, follow for more, spread it around, and join my patreon. It’s almost time for new patreons to pay up and if you hit my stretch goal i’ll review a darkwing duck episode next month and every month! We’re just five bucks away people! And if you’d like to just comission a review directly it’s just 5 bucks an episode and avaliable via my dms, ask or discord.

Next Time on Shadow Into Light: We take a break from the last two Lena episodes to go to one of her sources as we head back to Ducktales 87 with Magica’s Shadow War! I know almost nothing going in so... Shadow betrayals and stuff? Yay?

Tommorow: It’s Fenton’s birthday! And since i’ve done a LOT of ducktales recently and can’t do super ducktales till I hit my next stretch goal at 25 bucks, we’re going back to ST Canard at long last for Gizmoducks second apperance.. which can’t possibly be worse than the first so i’m excited. Let’s get dangerous tommorow!

#lena sabrewing #webby vanderquack #ducktales #weblena #violet sabrewing #shadow into light #friendship hates magic #great title by the way #bentina beakley #launchpad mcquack #darkwing duck

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syinisuga · 3 years

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Begin Again [MinYoongi]

Pairing : Yoongi x Reader

Word count : 5.2K

Genre : Fluff and Angst

Description : Friends to lovers, Long Distance relationship, Lovers to (?)

Summary : when you thought the friendship you once had with him died away after one silly mistake, and you thought you would never have again what you lost;

But it blossoms back unexpectedly stronger and is slowly growing to be something more beautiful than you ever had

"I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn, and end;

But on a Wednesday in a cafe i watched it Begin Again"

--------------------✨📖✨---------------------

It was the start of a new year and you weren't particularly happy about being moved up a few classes into an entirely new class with relatively new students you haven't personally met yet. You were still grateful for your good results in the past year to have you land in such a good class. In all honesty though, you did miss your friends from your old class, all of them being scattered in the back classes however changed your mind about being thankful that you're at least in a better one. The first few days of getting used to the classes went by rather slowly as you were listening to the introductions of the other students and teachers half mindedly, till around your 4th day into the classes that is.

You were randomly seated in the Chemistry lab by the teacher as she familiarised herself with the rest of the class. Not paying much attention you were spacing out, resting your chin on your palm, tapping away at your cheek.

" Um, hey there"

The voice from the stool next to you spoke. You turned your head to the direction of the voice, being met with warm brown eyes looking right at you. He had soft black hair, eyes slightly puffy as if he hadn't slept well the night before, lips curled up in a slight smile as he looked at you.

"Oh, hello"

you answered, trying not to sound overly shocked at the first human interaction you've had in this new class.

"I'm yoongi, what's your name?"

"I'm y/n, nice to meet you Yoongi"

"So what are your interests? What do you like to do y/n? Any hobbies?"

It definitely took you by surprise when this boy you've never really met before was suddenly making an interest to get to know you more. Something about him felt raw and not shy but in a good way.

"Well i really love listening to music and i do indulge in art as well. Spend most of my time listening to songs while drawing. Draw the mood of the song you know?"

"Damn, haha you sound kinda like me. Not tryna be cheesy or anything but i love listening to music too, I'm shit at drawing tho, i can barely draw a stickman"

Both of you exchanged a little chuckle at his open confession about himself. And even though it had only been a few minutes of words between the two of you, you felt at that moment that he wasn't like the other boys who popped up to talk to you first. This one genuinely seemed interested in you just to make a new friend.

-----------------------🤝------------------------

"Yo y/n you wanna ditch PE and hang out in the library? The new Resident Evil movie came out we can watch"

"You know what, yeah let's yeet"

You don't know how it went from spending lunch times together, to skipping the most boring subjects to hang out and hide. It'd been a few months since you started your new friendship with Yoongi, and by now you were known as the inseparable duo, funny enough both of you became the class representatives. Somehow you two got closer and closer each day, the more you talked the more you felt like you've known each other for years, yet some part of you knew that there was more to Yoongi than he was showing to you.

On a particularly slow day at your classes, you and Yoongi had pre planned to sneak out to hang out at your usual spot in the library. Sitting at the back of the library the both of you laughed at a joke Yoongi made about how almost the whole school shipped the both of you.

"You know y/n, I envy you"

"Oh well, I know I'm fabulous" you playfully said as you flipped your hair back, earning a little grunt and a harmless eye roll from Yoongi.

"It's not that you loonatic, i envy you...cause you have such a nice relationship with your family"

His sudden statement caught you slightly off guard but you gave him a look, clearly eager to know the reason behind his words. Flashing half a smile towards you he starts his story.

"Growing up for me was, well, it was an experience. I grew up under the care of foster parents who constantly reminded me that my parents gave me away cause i was a burden, all my life that's what i was told. Never had a father figure or mother figure to help shape my emotions? Guess that's why I don't show it if I'm sad or depressed, which is actually most of the time"

he looks down at his hands and chuckles softly.

"But you know something y/n? Being with you makes me feel like I could be myself, like I don't have to be afraid of being judged. And that's why I wanted you to know the truth but i understand if you don't wanna get involved or-"

You cut him off by placing your hand on his, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Yoongi, i want you to know that I'll always be here for you and you can talk to me about this anytime okay? You're my best friend now! And I'm hoping I'm yours too?" You ask in a more playful tone making yoongi giggle.

"Of course you are"

"Good! Cause i come in a package deal of crackhead and supportive as well as a no return contract"

"Sounds perfect to me bestie"

-----------------------😚------------------------

Over 2 years had passed and the whole highschool down to the teachers were sure the two of you were in a relationship, as everyone saw the two of you being practically stuck together almost all the time. Yoongi and your friendship became stronger than ever since that day he decided to open up to you. It became a regular thing where you'd confide in each other for emotional comfort as well as motivation and support. Not missing the fact that your level of crackhead together had become an all time high.

Your finals and exams blasted through and you had spent all your study weeks with Yoongi in the library. As sketchy as it was you and your best friend actually did sincere studying. And as it would, your hard work together paid off earning the both of you high marks in your finals. The two of you didn't miss to make a trademark crackhead scene at the receiving of the scroll ceremony when you accidentally tripped on your shoelace and Yoongi cracked up laughing and clapping before helping you up. The two of you celebrate with drinks and a lot of food that night and Yoongi paid for everything to make it up to you for laughing when you fell.

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror before heading out to your highschool's hall. It was your graduation party but more importantly to you it was Yoongi's birthday. Coincidentally the two events had fallen on the same day, and what better opportunity than to get dressed up to party at your graduation ceremony together. It had been a heck of a ride these last two years, and you were going to make sure this last school event would be memorable.

Upon arriving you scan around the hall of students in search of the familiar face.

"Looking for me?"

He makes his presence behind you known by clearing his throat. You turn around to give your usual playful comment back but the words were caught in your throat as your gaze landed on your best friend. He was dressed smart, in a suit that looked like it was custom made to fit him, his hair in a side part and bangs neatly framing his face. You were so used to seeing him in his casual hoodies and ripped jeans that seeing him in formal wear made you choke on your words.

Too focused on getting your senses back in check, you don't notice how Yoongi's train of thought was stopped dead in its tracks as he watched you turn around to face him. He never pictured his crackhead of a best friend in something other than t-shirts and track pants. Seeing you in a dress that hugged your figure in all the right places and taking in the sight of you, with your makeup and hair all done to suit the dress you were wearing nearly made him pass out from how he was holding his breath to admire you.

Clearing the silence between the two of you, Yoongi speaks up first.

"Well well, you don't completely look like the satanic spawn of hot cheetos and depression today. You actually look pretty good"

Smirking a little smile you bite back at his comment.

"Well same to you too Mr. I'm a millennial emo teen. You actually look, presentable today"

The two of you exchanged a playful giggle and assumed your seats at your class tables as the ceremony went on.

You don't see the small glances Yoongi takes in your direction, the thoughts gushing through his mind about how you looked at the moment and cursing himself for not realising your features sooner. He admired the way you had chosen to dress up today, seeing the way you had styled your hair so your curls would frame your face, the way you had done your makeup in a more natural looking way that he thought suited you perfectly. Yoongi didn't remember when the unlabeled feelings for you came but the longer he looked at you the more he was starting to put a name to the feelings he had. So much so that he had completely spaced out in his thoughts of you like that he didn't realise you were speaking to him.

" -don't you think so Yoongi?"

"I'm sorry what did you say? The umm, the music is so loud"

"I saaaaiiddd it's beginning to get a little dull at this graduation ceremony, we need a little surprise, don't you think?"

"Surprise?? What kind of surprise?"

Flashing a smile his way you get up and walk towards the front of the hall where the ceremony host was finishing up their ending speech. Whispering into the host's ear, he gives you the microphone and you confidently stride to the front. But you accidentally go too close to the speaker and it lets out an unpleasant squee, making you move back and away a little. You look up and around finding your best friend's eyes looking back at you giggling at the scene that just occured.

"Well that's one way to get everyone's attention" you chuckle earning muffled chuckles and words from the hall.

"So firstly congrats to everyone on graduating y'all did it. But that's not why I'm up here right now. Today is a special day for someone, and since it's the last day we'll all be gathering I wanted to make this memorable for him. So everyone I would like to wish out here, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIN YOONGI"

you started to sing happy birthday and the rest of the hall joined in singing with you.

In all this happening, Yoongi could only focus on you, the way you just boldly got up to sing out loud and wish him Happy Birthday in the most "you" way possible. So he didn't know if it was the moment or if it was his unlabeled feelings overflowing for you, that he got up and walked towards you as the song was ending. He couldn't tell what came over him at that moment but he knew for sure he wasn't going to stop what he was about to do next. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, he leaned in, pressing his soft lips to yours. Kissing you with deep feelings overtaking his mind. The moment his lips touched yours he knew what those unlabeled feelings were, it was Love.

You couldn't process fast enough that your best friend was striding towards you with a goal, a desire. And you surely didn't expect for him to suddenly kiss you. Registering the feeling of his lips on yours, your eyes closed on their own as if on automatic response. You sank into the feeling of his lips, and it was then you felt the spark that ignited your own unlabeled feelings for Yoongi. You had definitely asked yourself countless times before if what you were feeling for Yoongi was more than just friendship. On the countless nights he had cried on your shoulder or when you cried on his, on the many occasions where you were both always partners in crime, you would always glance at Yoongi and wonder what more could there be to the feelings between you.

As the both of you slowly pulled away from each other a roaring sound of cheers erupted as it seemed to be that the two of you were the last ones to know you two were actually in love with each other. Taking your hand in his, Yoongi and you ran out of the hall that night knowing well where the two of you stood from that moment on.

-----------------------❤️------------------------

"No babe I think you should definitely take the opportunity to study there, I know it's far but it'll be really good for you, plus it's something you really like! It'll take some time for you to get used to the new place but i know you'll fit right in. In fact i know your wack ass would stand out"

You giggled at his comment but you wholeheartedly took his motivation and advice. But the question and thoughts still lingered in your mind as you heard Yoongi chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"But Yoongi, this means we'd be in a long distance relationship, with you going off to study in the opposite direction and all. Even our breaks don't match Yoongi.. what'll we do" the worrying tone in your voice didn't go unnoticed by Yoongi as he answered you in a calm reassuring tone.

"It'll take some work, but i know we can get through this okay? We'll make it, we can make it. I love you" you smiled at Yoongi's voice uttering the sweet words of love as you felt yourself calm your thoughts.

"I love you too Yoongi. Well then, keep me company while i pack?"

"You bet"

It had been a few months since you started dating, and honestly it didn't feel any different from when the two of you were in your phase of friendship, everything was going relatively smooth apart from the little fights and misunderstandings you had now that you were a couple. Sometimes you sit to think to yourself if moving into a relationship with Yoongi was the best choice, it would feel as though sometimes he would act differently and not like he always would but you just shake of the thoughts. You just figured with all these future college studies and intakes coming about that he was just as stressed as you were. You assured yourself that the two of you would be alright and that you'll always have each other.

A few more months pass and the two of you have already started your college lives. Yoongi being in a campus almost 8 hours away from you with minimal transport for him to even go home let alone plan to meet you. It was going smoothly, settling into orientation and getting to know the layouts of the campus well, meeting new friends and truly taking in your next step in education. You and Yoongi would exchange day to day text messages about how orientation and the first days of classes went.

All well and good till Yoongi's texts became slower and less frequent, he would always say that he's busy with his friends there, or straight up not giving a response at all. You became more and more fearful at how this long distance thing was going to work out for the two of you.

28th Tuesday

[12:27am] hey Yoongi! I hope you had a great day, I miss you and hope you sleep well, love you!

[08:40am] Hey Babe, good morning! I'm in class now, wishing we could skip like old times haha, hope you have a great day! Text me soon

[6:48pm] Hey i just got back to my dorm after classes, it was super fun! How was your day??

[8:11pm] Yoongi?? Are you okay? Are you busy babe?

[8:24pm] I miss youuuuuuuu :(

[10:16pm] Yoongi :(

You tossed your phone to the side of your bed as you felt your tears well up, why was he suddenly avoiding you? Is he okay?? Did he get hurt? Your thoughts were spiraling, getting messier till you heard the familiar ping from your phone. You scurried to your phone to see Yoongi's name pop up on the screen. Your smile quickly faded, replaced by disappointment at his reply.

[10:43pm] Hey, was busy with friends today, going to bed now ttyl <3

You frowned and wouldn't let him go this time. The days of short texts to unreplied texts and this is how he replies now? In a fit of fury you call him.

"Hello?-"

"Yoongi what's wrong? You haven't been replying to my texts as usual are you okay??"

"Mmh I'm fine, just busy with classes and my new friends y/n"

"Well I can't accept that answer Yoongi, I'm busy with classes and friend's here too but I take the time so why can't you?"

"Hey it's not that big of a deal y/n, we're in new environments now and it'll take me some time to settle in"

"Yoongi surely you have at least 5 minutes a day to text me??"

"Yeah of course I do, I just texted you didn't i?"

"That short ass reply was what you call a text Yoongi? It really sounds like you're avoiding me"

"You know what y/n I don't have time for this right now I'm tired"

"No Yoongi, I haven't talked to you properly in days come on don't you miss me Yoongi?"

"To be honest I've been enjoying the new company here that's I haven't missed you much"

"What do you mean Yoongi? You don't think of me?"

"Not all the time no, i have other things to think about here y/n i have new responsibilities here I can't be thinking about you all the damn time, just be happy I texted you back"

"Are you threatening to not text me anymore Yoongi? Is that what you're saying? You don't wanna talk to me anymore?"

"Oh god for fucks sake y/n stop being so clingy alright? Just grow up a little!"

The sound of his voice in heightened frustration made you choke on your words, you silenced yourself as his words rang loud in your head.

"You know what y/n I don't think this will work out, I'm going to get even busier and this will just be in the way of it all"

"Yoongi…"

"I'm sorry y/n but clearly this distance is proving that we won't work out"

"Are you... breaking up with me Yoongi?.."

The pain in your voice and the soft shaky exhale doesn't go unnoticed by Yoongi. Yoongi takes a deep breath, realising he spoke too fast in frustration. As much as he did feel for you this distance was tearing you apart and Yoongi didn't want to believe it but it was the truth. He spoke softer this time giving his side of his explanation.

"Y/n, you've been nothing but amazing to me, but I realize that we were more compatible as friends, I mean think about it, we've had so many petty fights that we never had before we dated. Our growing college life will further hinder our relationship. I don't want to hurt you like this by not giving you the love and attention you deserve. I'll always love you y/n, just not as more than friends I suppose"

You couldn't believe what was happening right now, your world felt like it was crashing down on you hard and fast, you could feel the sharp stinging in your chest from how your heart was breaking the more reality hit you. Yoongi's words had reason to them, but you were still in a state of confusion. Why could you make time for Yoongi but he couldn't for you? Maybe it's because the two of you are pursuing different fields of studies? Maybe he really had better things to do? Yoongi didn't want to hurt your feelings by making you feel abandoned so he was in fact abandoning you? No? But he said he'll still love you?? Your head was spinning a bunch of thoughts ran through your head.

"Okay Yoongi...if that's what would be the best for us..then okay"

"Don't worry okay? We'll still text as usual, talk when we can okay? I won't let you go, you're still my best friend y/n"

You didn't know if his words would be comforting enough, but at that moment you took what you had and calmed your thoughts for now.

"Okay Yoongi.."

"Good, I have an early schedule tomorrow. I'll talk to you later okay? I'm going to bed now. Goodnight y/n"

"Good night Yoongi"

-----------------------💔------------------------

As it will, Yoongi and you slowly drifted apart. You would often see his social media updates about how he was actively participating in clubs, and how he had taken up new responsibilities, going to camps and hosting events at his institute and he definitely seemed to be doing well. You on the other hand fell more and more at war with your emotions, it didn't hinder your studies. Thankfully you could keep those two apart. But whenever it got a little too quiet you'd think of him, the days in highschool when you were inseparable. You missed his laugh, his endearing way of calling you the most heinous nicknames. You definitely missed his comforting arms, his words of encouragement when you were down, you wished nothing more that in this moment you were crying to him instead of because of him.

You couldn't believe that you were sitting here, broken and feeling alone by the guy that made his way into your life, and had now made his way out in the most painful way possible. You were left there clueless and confused. Did he do it for you? Was it the right thing? Did he really think of you? Why was this happening? What would have happened if you didn't date? Would things be different? Would your best friend have stayed? All these questions playing through your mind, countless nights you spent crying yourself to sleep. Thinking of how you felt almost betrayed, you cursed at yourself for sending texts to him that were only left on read or replied with a simple "I'm busy, text you later".

Slowly days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as you hadn't spoken much to Yoongi. You became stone hearted from all that had happened and slowly you got back into yourself. You were more and more active in your college life and you were growing to be better at controlling your emotions. Sure some little things remind you of him now and then, but it was much easier by now to brush his thoughts off. As sadly as your situation was you learned to move with it and not let it consume you. Every now and then you'd see Yoongi piston updates on his progressively active life and you'd feel happy for him, you wondered if he ever felt the same for you when he saw your updates on how well you were doing.

----------------------🍃-------------------------

It had been a total of 4 years since everything happened, you were on a roll and you had graduated college. You had a few job applications pending and you were more stable with your life by now. All the questions you once had were stored in a box collection dust in the far corner of your mind.

It was a relaxing Saturday evening, you were in your apartment lounging on your bed. As you were chatting away with your friends a familiar ping aroused from your phone. The name that popped up on the screen made your heart heavy and you breathing shallow, a true ghost from your past…

"Yoongi 🥀"

Your screen read. Taking a deep breath you opened the chat.

[9:57pm] Hey y/n it's been a long time… are you free tonight? Can I call you?

You didn't know what exactly to think right now. Every cell in your brain telling you not to. That you shouldn't give into him again, and that you should just talk to him over text no matter what it was. But your heart was screaming for him, the familiar feeling of longing for him returning in a massive tsunami, washing over your thoughts. You took a deep breath to centre your thoughts and decided you'd listen to him and talk to him again.

[9:59pm] Hey Yoongi, yeah I'm free to talk.

As soon as the message was read by him, your phone rang. You took one more deep breath and answered the call.

"Hello y/n, how are you?"

You cursed in your head at how much you missed his voice, the way he spoke to you at this moment had a hint of the same longing you had for him.

"Hey..Yoongi, I'm good. How are you?"

"I've been good too.. congratulations on graduating"

"Thanks Yoongi, congratulations on graduating too.."

"Thanks…"

The silence that fell had you both reflecting on everything that happened and how fast it all went by. The box of questions in your mind burst out once again whereas Yoongi on the other hand was feeling guilt and hate towards himself for everything that he put you through. Little did you know that these last few months Yoongi was hit with the hard realisation that he had lost not only his best friend but the person he cared about the most. His family certainly did not improve and the one person who was there for him when he needed it, he had left broken hearted and abruptly once he found a new escape. Yoongi was slowly flooded with memories of you as he neared his own college graduation. He remembered your highschool graduation and how he felt for you there in that moment of time. He spent a few nights crying at the realisation that he had thought of what's best for you but didn't think of how you felt and how he had left things between the two of you.

"Why Yoongi…."

Was all you managed to say out loud before your emotions caved in. Understanding what you were asking he answered.

"I was so caught up in the new environment of growing up and moving on that I did what I thought was the best to not hurt you...but I didn't think far enough that doing so will indeed hurt you.. and I wasn't there for you like i was supposed to. It took a hard hit to my head to realise that I was wrong y/n… you were always there for me and stupidly I made this mistake… I thought i was thinking of the best for both of us, when in fact i was thinking of myself.. I was selfish and I realised that…so many things reminded me of you y/n, the clouds, the sun, the sight of roses, the smell of hot cheetos.."

You giggled a little at his last comment earning a little muffled one from Yoongi.

"I understand if you hate me for what I did to you y/n… and I don't know if it'll ever be the same between us again.. but I'm willing to try to bring back what we had... if you're willing to give me a chance…"

You exhaled softly before letting out everything that you've been feeling.

"I don't hate you Yoongi, I never could and I never will. You're everything to me Yoongi and I was just really hurt by what you did and how you ended things. So many thoughts went through my head and I won't even talk about how much you made me cry….you dipshit" the playful cursing nickname made Yoongi chuckle a little, slowly making him feel reassured at the directions of the conversation.

"I'm willing to give us a chance Yoongi..and you're right, I don't expect it to be the same as what we had, I just hate that I lost my best friend.."

"I know..i understand that..and I'm sorry..for everything"

"It's okay Yoongi, I'm sorry too… maybe I should've been more understanding…"

"Hey… do you.. wanna hang out Tomorrow night?"

"You wanna hang out?"

"Yeah, i wanna see you and catch up with you"

"Sure Yoongi that'd be nice"

"Great!! I'll meet you at the café by our old highschool?"

"Sure Yoongi, sounds great"

"Right then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow Yoongi"

You could hear the smiles in each other's voices as you both bid goodnight and hung up the phone. You didn't know what it was exactly but you knew just from that phone call that everything was going to be alright. You felt like you breathed much easier now, your mind much lighter. Yoongi felt the same, he was smiling more now filled with the excitement of meeting you again tomorrow after years.

-----------------------✨------------------------

You made sure to check yourself out in the mirror a few more times before heading towards the café. You had chosen to wear a simple yet stylish outfit, your hair tied back in a low loose ponytail, your short hairs framing your face. You were nervous yet excited to be reunited with your best friend again. And as you approach the café, there he was. Standing outside the door of the café waiting for you. The now slightly more mature looking, dark fluffy haired man, wearing a long black coat was looking just as nervous and excited as he was looking down at his feet.

"I didn't know you needed glasses to see now"

your voice made him turn his head fast in your direction. The moment his gaze landed on you, it felt like highschool all over again. The way you looked standing there, just centimetres away from him. He took in your slightly matured face yet he told himself that you hadn't changed one bit.

"It's official, you're old Yoongi"

He chuckled and playfully scoffed at your comment.

"Well at least i don't dress like the satanic spawn of depression and hot cheetos"

"Sure thing Mr. I'm still a millennial emo teen"

The two of you laughed, and the world seemed to slow down. The feeling that nothing ever really changed between the two of you was knowing, however this time something felt entirely different. Both of you could feel it for sure. It was the feeling of a bond stronger than both friendship and love. You didn't know what the feeling was exactly, all that you knew was that you're never losing each other again. All this while you've been sitting there watching the feelings you had burn and crash in the worst way possible, but today right here at this café, right in front of your eyes you watched everything Begin Again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts au #yoongi fanfic #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #kpop fluff #bts fluff #bts angst

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