#Multi-Touch Screen Tables

[iplantables]

Revolutionizing Workstations: Unleashing the Potential of Multi-Touch Screen Tables by iPlanTables

Discover the future of work with iPlanTables V-Series, where innovation meets functionality. Explore the power and versatility of multi-touch screen tables designed to elevate your productivity and redefine your workspace. Dive into the key features of the iPlanTables V-Series and unlock a world of seamless interaction, enhanced productivity, and comprehensive workstation solutions. Join us as we explore the transformative capabilities of Multi-Touch Screen Tables and revolutionize the way you work.

[simplygojo]

Friend-Of-A-Friend ⸺ Chapter Seven

author's note ⸺ Hello lovely people! I hope u are all doing well this Sunday :) I have finished up my edits on this chapter and am very excited to hear your thoughts as this is where the plot begins to thicken. I love all ur comments and some of y'all have just started DMing me and sending in asks and MY HEART IS SO FULL <33 Also exciting news: I will be publishing a nerdjo x reader multi-chapter fic in June!! So stay tuned!! pairing ⸺ Suguru Geto x Reader content ⸺ corporate-worker!reader, emotional tension, modern au, the good-ole-days trope, reader uses female pronouns, taglist at end, 3.8k, this is an 18+ series - mdni

divider credit: @/toastray ୨୧ art credit: @/juziluohai

previous chapter ୨୧ series masterlist ୨୧ next chapter

Geto: Got it. Be there in 30.

And just like that, your night cracked open.

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, phone still in your hand, as if it might say more if you just kept looking at it.

Thirty minutes.

You didn’t think—just moved.

You wandered into the bathroom, flicking on the soft overhead light. Washed your hands. Then your face. 

You looked up, water dripping from your chin, and stared at your reflection in the mirror. 

Your eyes were wide—not panicked, just… alive. Awake in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You reached blindly for the towel, dabbing at your face, suddenly aware of how warm your cheeks felt.

After touching yourself up a bit, you made your way back to the bedroom, still not really thinking, just doing.

A gentle patter of rain against the windows settled into the background, faint but rhythmic. Not a storm—just the kind of rain that settles in and stays a while. 

The sound curled at the edges of the quiet, filling the space without asking.

But something about the quiet of your apartment made everything sound louder—the whining of the pipes in the wall, the sigh of the heater kicking on, the creak of the floorboards as your heel shifted, just slightly off center.

You moved toward the chair by the window, where your hoodie from two days ago lay draped, sleeves twisted like it had slumped there after giving up.

Picking it up, you folded it without thinking. Placed it on the armrest, suddenly now hyper-aware of how many little messes were sitting around your place that you’d just hadn’t noticed before. 

Not that it made the place look dirty—just kinda more… lived in. And there wasn’t anything wrong with that…right?

A mug sitting out on the counter with a ring of tea at the bottom.

Three receipts in a pile near the keys.

Your shoes—one tipped over, half-tucked under the coffee table.

You righted them. Not for him. Just—because. You’d have to do it eventually, why not now?

You quickly pulled your phone from your back pocket to check the time: 9:47.

Eleven minutes.

The silence you felt was heavy. No music. No TV playing mindlessly in the background. Nothing to fill the void that felt like your apartment.

Your thumb hovered over the screen a second longer than necessary.

Then—Spotify. 

That old, faithful green app on your home screen.

You pressed shuffle on a playlist you’d built over the past few years. Songs shuffled together from half-sleepless mornings and lazy Sunday afternoons. The opening chords of a familiar track spilled into the room—warm, looping guitar, steady drums. 

The kind of sound that didn’t demand anything, just offered itself up and stayed a while.

You let the music play.

Not for any particular reason. It just felt better than the silence.

You sat down on the couch, thumb grazing the seam of your jeans, letting the song fill the space. Nothing dramatic. Just… something to do while the minutes passed.

You weren’t expecting much from tonight.

Geto had always kind of moved through your life like this—unexpectedly, casually. Like showing up was just something he did sometimes. And this felt like one of those times.

You only ever really got to know him in the moments between Gojo.

For a long time—maybe two years—Suguru Geto had just been Gojo’s friend. 

The quieter presence, the steadier one. Always with that half-smile and his sleeves rolled neatly at the forearms, as if even his ease came with intention. You could still picture the first time it was just the two of you, alone in that library.

He was the person standing just off to the side in every memory you had of those years, hands in his pockets, watching the way Gojo filled up the room.

But sometimes Gojo would be late, or forget, or disappear entirely.

And that’s when Geto would sit across from you. 

Just the two of you, sharing whatever was left of the afternoon or the space or the silence. No spotlight. No noise. Just low conversation and the occasional dry comment that stuck with you longer than you expected it to.

Those were the pieces of him you learned—quiet, rare things. A glance. A line from a book. 

The way he really listened when you spoke, not just waiting to reply but actually there to hear you.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

**4 Years Ago: Campus Library 2:28 pm**

The library had that particular kind of quiet that wasn't really silent—just full of other people trying not to make noise. Pages turning, pens scratching. The occasional cough muffled into the crook of an elbow.

It was an older building, with real wooden shelves, not the cold plastic or industrial steel you'd gotten used to in public libraries growing up. These shelves were warm-toned and tall, climbing nearly to the ceiling, stacked tight with worn spines and little brass call number plates.

You were tucked into the far end of one of the long tables by the windows, headphones in, jazz looping soft in your ears. A watered-down iced coffee sat sweating beside your open textbook. 

Business Law. Final exam. Second year.

Your notes were a mess. Your eyes were tired. But your focus had reached that kind of dull, narrowed state where time bent around the pages and the words almost started to make sense.

You didn’t notice him until he put his bag down.

Suguru Geto. Gojo’s best friend—well, other than you.

You blinked up, tugging one earbud out. He gave you a nod—not sheepish, not smug. Just… neutral. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to join you, even though you were pretty sure the two of you had never spoken one-on-one before.

You gave him a polite smile. The kind reserved for like classmates or acquaintances, or friends-of-friends.

Then he opened his bag and pulled out a textbook, spine softened from use, corners curled. He didn’t make a sound beyond that. No explanation. No question. Just settled in, a quiet body beside yours at the edge of the window light.

You tried to refocus on your notes, but the presence of him lingered—a shift in the air, not intrusive, just… present. 

Every so often, your eyes flicked toward him. 

He read steadily, one hand curled near his jaw, thumb brushing the page as he turned it. A pen tucked behind his ear. A faint scuff on his sneakers.

He hadn’t brought headphones, but he didn’t seem to need them.

Your playlist looped into another low, slow track. Jazz drums and upright bass. Something that made the library feel more like a moment than a place.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes still on the page in front of him.

Then, without looking over, he spoke—voice low, just above the hush of the room.

“You studying for BA121?”

You glanced at him, surprised, but then looked down at your boldly labelled textbook and sighed. “Yeah.”

He nodded once, still thumbing the corner of his book, which turned out to be the same one as yours, just in a much worse condition. “Same.”

You blinked. “Oh, wait—really? I didn’t realize you were in that class.”

His mouth quirked—not quite a smile, but close. “Oh really? Interesting. I guess disappearing into the back row really does work.”

You winced, a hand half-lifting in apology. “Sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—I usually sit near the front.”

He let out a soft laugh, and the sound caught you off guard—not loud, but warm, rough around the edges like he didn’t use it all that often.

“It’s alright,” he said, glancing over now. “I wasn’t exactly trying to be memorable.”

You gave a sheepish smile, suddenly aware of how dry your mouth felt.

The silence shifted—same shape, different weight. A little looser around the edges now.

You reached for your pen again, but your grip was soft, unfocused. The lines on the page blurred, just a bit. The kind of blur that had nothing to do with your eyes.

You hadn’t even realized he was in that class. 

Something about that sat a little funny—like you’d missed something obvious. Had he noticed you? Or had the textbook just given it away? Either way, it left a small echo in your chest.

He adjusted in his seat. The hem of his sleeve brushed the table. Nothing big, nothing showy. Just a reminder that he was still there, right next to you.

Not loud. Not distracting. But present.

After a long beat, he spoke again, quieter this time.

“You think you’re gonna pass this final?”

You exhaled through your nose, each word laced with fake annoyance. “Not if I keep talking to Gojo’s mysterious friend.”

He smiled at that. Not sarcastic this time—just a real genuine smile. “Touché.”

You both looked back down at your textbooks, as if by unspoken agreement.

The quiet folded over you again—pen to paper, eyes tracing text—but something buzzed low in your chest now, faint and bright like a secret you weren’t sure you were supposed to have yet.

You fought the smile tugging at your mouth. Really tried. But it was no use. It crept up anyway—cheeky and uninvited.

Curious, you risked a glance sideways in his direction.

And there he was. Suguru. Also looking up. Also smiling.

That same unreadable curl at the corner of his lips, like the two of you were in on something that no one else would ever quite get.

His eyes were dark, but not in the way of shadows, more in the way old velvet holds warmth—quiet, weighty, and worn with something you couldn’t quite name.

Your gazes held.

Not long. Maybe a second. Maybe less.

But it settled in your chest like the gentle weight of a blanket—comforting and light and kind of impossible to ignore.

Then, as if coordinated without a signal, you both dropped your eyes back to the pages in front of you like it hadn’t happened. 

You flipped a page in your notes, hand slower now, pen resting loose between your fingers.

He capped his pen, rolled it once across the back of his knuckles, then uncapped it again.

Neither of you said another word.

But the silence no longer belonged to the library.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

**Present Day: Your Apartment 9:58 pm**

You pulled yourself out of the memory like stepping back from a window—one moment inside it, the next with your palms flat against the glass. 

The library dissolved, its warm wood and filtered light giving way to the dim quiet of your apartment. A different kind of silence. A different kind of ache.

It had been years, but the moment clung like dust in the corners of your mind, undisturbed until now. 

It’s strange, how something so small—just a glance across a library table—could leave a memory deep enough to resurface years later, still whole, like it had been waiting in the quiet just beyond reach.

You blinked, the soft blue glow of your phone as it vibrated, tugging you from your thoughts and back into reality.

Geto: Here. Wanna buzz me up?

You stared at the message for a beat, then stood up and made your way towards the buzzer by your front door.

You had no butterflies. No last-minute panic. Just the faint hum of readiness, like a light turning on in a room you hadn’t entered in a while.

You: Yep! One sec :)

Somewhere below, the door groaned open. Pipes clanked. The building held its breath.

You didn’t move from your little kitchenette beside the entryway. Just stood, fingers curled lightly at your sides, the music behind you still spinning something soft and familiar through the speaker.

Then—

A pause. Just on the other side of your front door.

A knock. 

You reached for the knob. The metal met your fingers, cool and smooth. 

You opened it.

And there he was—Geto.

Rain clung to him in soft streaks, running the length of his coat sleeves, caught in the collar where the fabric had darkened. His hair was all the way down, loose and heavy with water, a few strands pressed flat to his cheek. 

It gave him a different look. 

You noticed how his eyes reflected the warm spill of light from inside when you opened the door, highlighting the softness you tended to see behind his gaze.

You stepped back without thinking, leaving just enough to let him in without speaking.

“Hey,” he said, quiet, with a nod that somehow felt like it held more weight than the word itself.

“Hey,” you echoed, your voice not loud, but enough to cut through the space between you. 

You weren’t sure why you felt so—nervous. You had opened your door to Geto countless times, although it was always when others were already in your apartment…

He stepped inside, careful to toe off his shoes by the door, water already beginning to bead on the floor. You reached instinctively for the towel hanging on the hook near the entry—normally used for grocery runs or spilled tea—and handed it to him without a word.

Thank god you did the laundry this weekend…

“Thanks,” he murmured, accepting it, rubbing the back of his neck first, then pushing his wet hair back with one slow pass of his hand, the towel dragging behind like an afterthought. It didn’t do much—just shifted the strands out of his face before they fell forward again.

You tried not to stare.

Tried not to notice how good he looked like this—rain-damp and quiet, something about the messiness softening him. 

Like an artist's greatest portrait left out in the weather. Like a version of him not meant to be seen by you up close.

He wore it well, though. 

The water-darkened sleeves, the slight flush on his nose and cheeks from the walk, the way the low light caught on the curve of his cheekbone.

Not the kind of thing you should necessarily be noticing. But I mean, you’re not going to hell for thinking your friend is a good-looking dude. It’s not like that meant anything to either of you. 

Still, your eyes caught on the little details. 

The tilt of his jaw when he glanced toward the living room. 

The way his hand settled on the towel, gripping it once like he didn’t quite know what to do with it now that he was inside.

He slid his jacket off, careful with the sleeves, like the fabric might protest if tugged too hard. The movement sent another few drops scattering to the floor.

“Shit—sorry,” he said, glancing down as water beaded at his feet. “Didn’t think it’d be coming down this hard.”

You shook your head, already stepping aside so he could hang it on the rack by the door.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Coat rack’s been bored anyway.”

—That's a bit odd to say, but that’s alright!

He huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flicking toward yours—holding it for just a moment while he smiled at your dumb joke—before returning to the coat rack.

The jacket landed with a wet, muted thump against the hook, shoulders sagging the second he let go, like it had been holding something up for him.

He gave it one last glance, then rubbed his hands along his forearms, slow, trying to shake off the leftover chill.

For a moment, nothing more than the sound of the rain outside, dull and steady against the windows, the faint scrape of the towel as he patted at the ends of his hair.

Then—

“You want tea or anything?” You asked, your fingers brushing the lip of the counter.

He glanced at you, eyes warm. “Yeah. If it’s not a hassle.”

“Of course it’s not,” you said without missing a beat, already turning toward the kettle.

Behind you, the door eased shut on its own. Not a slam—just the soft click of something returning to place.

He stepped further inside, eyes drifting across the space like he was trying to take it in without making a thing of it. You wondered if he was comparing it to your old place—the tiny student flat with barely enough room to turn around, where Gojo used to complain the walls were too thin and the fridge made ‘psychotic noises’ at night.

This one wasn’t much bigger to be honest, but it was yours now. Yours in a way the last one hadn’t been considering you lived with four other girls, and Gojo practically visited every day.

Geto’s gaze flicked across the bookshelf, the little trailing plant over the kitchen cupboard, the single framed print above the couch. 

Not in a nosy way—just absorbing the environment. Familiarizing himself.

He moved toward the couch, careful of the damp towel still hanging from one hand, and sat down like he was half-afraid the thing would squeak under him. It didn’t, the cushion just let out a quiet sigh.

The couch wasn’t far from the kitchen—nothing in your apartment was—so even with your back to him at the counter, you could still hear the soft shuffle of him settling in. 

The towel rustled again as he rubbed the ends of his hair, slower now, like he wasn’t in a rush.

“So…Welcome to my apartment, you haven’t been in this one before,” you said, only half-looking over your shoulder as you measured out loose leaf into the strainer.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little lower now. “Kind of weird, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” you said, turning to face him for a beat. “Just overdue, I guess.”

That made him smile—small, crooked. The kind of smile that made your throat go a little tight for no reason at all.

“Nice place,” he said, glancing around again. “Very you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like yours. Lived-in. Warm.” He shrugged. “Also the music. And your loose-leaf tea. And the fact that there are, like, four different oddly shaped mugs on that shelf.”

You huffed a laugh as your grin widened. “Okay, Geto, now you’re being judgy.”

“I’m not! I swear…I like it.” His gaze cut to yours, easy.

“Feels settled,” he said, easing back into the couch. “Like it’s got a rhythm.”

You turned toward the kettle, eyebrows lifting. “That’s a polite way of calling it cramped.”

He huffed a laugh through his nose. “Didn’t say that.”

“No, but you thought it.”

Another soft smile. “I just meant—it feels like you. Like you’ve been here a while.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “I have.”

He nodded once, almost to himself, then reached for the towel again, pressing it behind his neck where his hair still dripped a little. 

His eyes scanned the nearby shelf, the quiet kitchen details. No commentary. Just noticing.

You turned back to the counter. “And for the record, I pay too much rent for it not to feel like me.”

“City tax,” he murmured, almost too quiet to catch. “Comfort’s always overpriced.”

Geto laughed under his breath, then went quiet again. You could hear the shift of the fabric beneath him as he crossed one ankle over his knee, glanced down at a coaster on the coffee table like it had caught him off guard.

“This one’s got a cat in a space helmet,” he said.

“Yeah. Set of four. Each one is a different animal in space.”

He paused. “Nice. I like space animals, what are the other ones?”

“One’s a duck. Another one’s a bear, and the one I will be using��” You set down a second coaster beside his. “—is a hippo.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Did you buy these or were they a gift?” He said, completely deadpan.

You glanced back at him with that same grin you just couldn’t seem to shake. “Does it matter? Don’t you like them?”

“Of course I do,” he said, smiling back at you and letting a small chuckle slip past his lips. “Wish I was that cool y’know?”

That made you laugh—quietly, through your nose. You shook your head as you reached for the boiling kettle. “Yeah I do know.”

You poured the tea, the faint hiss of water filling the mugs, and carried them over—setting his down on the space cat. He thanked you with a quiet murmur and wrapped both hands around the mug, warming them.

You sat across from him, your own mug nestled against your legs, knees pulled up comfortably under you. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything—just letting the steam rise, letting the silence stretch a little in that comfortable way that didn’t need filling.

Then—

“So,” you said, your tone light but edged with curiosity, “What’s up? Was this just…You being spontaneous?”

He looked at you then—really looked.

Not with that easy warmth he wore like second nature, but something closer to stillness. 

Like he was weighing the moment in his hands, turning it over before deciding what to offer back. 

After all—Geto never wasted words.

His smile lingered, soft at the edges, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. There was a flicker there instead—something hesitant, almost searching.

His gaze fell, not abruptly, but with a slow sort of grace. 

Drifted down to the rim of the mug cupped between his palms, where steam curled lazily into the air. 

Then further, toward the window, where the rain slipped down in quiet ribbons. The kind of rain that made you feel like the world had shrunk to just the room you were in.

And in that small silence, something in your chest pulled tight. 

It wasn’t weird to ask that—was it?

When his eyes returned to yours, they were softer. 

Unshielded in a way they hadn’t been before. But quickly darted away.

He didn’t speak right away—just let the moment stretch between you, fragile and thin and glinting with something that felt too honest to touch.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low—barely above the whisper of the rain. “I’m just… kinda spontaneous.”

His lips curved slightly, the kind of smile that followed a thought he hadn’t meant to say out loud, but it was a fleeting thing. 

Not a deflection. Not even a joke. Just an acknowledgment that the words were only part of what he meant.

There was a subtle shift, his posture easing toward you with quiet intention.

“But—” His gaze found yours again. This time, he didn’t look away.

And you felt it. The weight of it. 

His thumb drifted along the curve of the mug, slow and deliberate, the motion steadying in a way that suggested he wasn’t quite at rest.

“Is it so wrong if I just wanted some good company?”

Your heartbeat faltered at his words. There was no bravado in it. No performance. Just a small truth, placed gently between you like an offering. 

You were his idea of good company.

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[societyfolklore]

Dangerous Notes – Part 1

Title: Dangerous Notes – Part 1

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Singer!Female Reader

Fic Summary: Reluctantly agrees to fill in for her sick friend at a prestigious jazz club The Armoury. Thrust into a world of old-world glamour and unknown danger now that the club’s owner, Bucky Barnes, has set his sights on making you a permanent fixture on his stage—and in his life. Chapter Summary: After a long day of teaching, you reluctantly agree to fill in for your sick friend The Armory, a prestigious jazz club steeped in glamour and whispered intrigue. The weight of your decision—and the allure of this mysterious world—begin to sink in.

Word Count:  2.7k

Fic Warnings: // Explicit Content // Mature Themes.18+, Minors DNI, Dark Romance, Slow Burn, Possessive/Obsessive behaviour, Violence, Smut (eventually)  Chapter Warnings:  Mention of Parental death (brief) A/N: Ok! This is part one of what I’m hoping to make into a proper multi part series, with hopefully a regular updating schedule.

You toss your bag onto the couch and sink into the cushions, kicking off your shoes after a long day of teaching. The faint ache in your feet reminds you of the endless hours spent standing in front of a classroom, guiding your students through scales and arpeggios, correcting technique, and cheering on their small victories. Your voice feels a little hoarse from a day of projecting over a chatty group of teenagers, and the thought of a quiet evening feels like a gift you’ve earned, a rare reward after a week of juggling lesson plans and extracurricular rehearsals.

You glance around your apartment, the quiet stillness wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The clutter on the coffee table—half-graded assignments and an empty water bottle—is a reminder of the work that still needs doing, but for now, you let yourself sink deeper into the cushions, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to ease. You close your eyes for a moment, imagining the peace of an uninterrupted evening, maybe even a chance to indulge in an old favourite record you haven’t touched in years.

Just as you’re about to lean fully into the moment, your phone buzzes on the coffee table, jolting you out of your reprieve. The screen lights up with Kara’s name, her call interrupting the quiet you’d just started to savour. Groaning softly, you reach for the phone, bracing yourself for whatever she’s about to ask.

“Kara, what now?” you say, half-joking but already bracing yourself.

“Don’t be mad,” Kara’s hoarse voice croaks through the line. “I need a favour. A huge favour.”

You sit up straighter, sensing the desperation in her tone. “Kara, I just got home. What kind of favour?”

“I need you to cover for me at The Armory,” she blurts out, before you heard her blowing her nose, while you wince at the sound. “Just for a week. Please, you’re the only one I trust.”

You blink, her words taking a moment to register. “Cover for you? At The Armory? Kara, I haven’t been on stage in years and I’m teac-" Kara cut you off   "You know the setlist already." This was true, you'd helped her put it together. You even arranged the covers of modern tracks. "Please.” Kara coughed more “I can’t risk losing this gig to one of those vultures.”

“Kara, I’m not a performer anymore. I haven’t been on stage in years!” you said, pacing your small living room while holding the phone against your ear.

Now it was Kara turn to groaned, her voice rasping before she cleared her throat. “Come on, you're sound is classic, you have the vintage sound the boss of this place adores. Who else am I going to trust with this?”

“Kara.. I can't." You plead "Can't the band play on it's own..” you suggested, already regretting the thought of stepping onto a stage again. 

She let out a humourless laugh. “Do you think the boss is going to just 'let that happen'? Pleeeease, I can't afford to lose this gig to someone else. If I call in a replacement they pick, I might as well hand over my job. This isn’t just any club—it’s The Armory. They don’t do second chances.”

Your protest caught in your throat. You knew she wasn’t exaggerating. Still, the idea of stepping back into that spotlight sent your heart racing with anxiety.

“Kara, I don’t know if I can do this. It’s not my life anymore.” You'd given that part of yourself up. 

“Please,” she said softly, her tone shifting to one of genuine desperation. “I know I’m asking a lot, but I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. Just one week. That’s all I need.”

The weight of her plea hung heavy in the air. You sighed, feeling the fraying edges of your resolve start to give.  “Kara,” you said after a long pause. “If I bomb—”

“You won’t bomb,” she interrupted, a hint of relief threading through her voice. She could hear you giving in. “You’re amazing, and you’ll knock them dead. I promise.”

"Can I think about it?"  You needed time, feeling your insides churn up like a stormy sea, or maybe you'd just forgotten what stage nerves felt like? Back before all those years of hospital visits, sleepless nights, and sacrifices you made for your mom had felt both necessary and soul-crushing. You’d spent every ounce of your energy ensuring she had the care she needed, and when she passed, it felt as though the last bit of your own light had been extinguished.

Performing wasn't your life now. Kara knew that.  You’d thrown yourself into teaching, pouring your love for music into your students, finding solace in watching them thrive. It was enough, or so you’d told yourself.  You'd had plenty of talks about the topic over the years.. How deep down, you’d always felt the ache of what you left behind—the thrill of performing, the way the stage could transform you, even for a fleeting moment. When everything fell away. 

“Just say yes” she had begged over the phone, her tone breaking. “One week. Just one week. That’s all I need. I'm emailing you the set list now. It has to be you."

The weight of her plea had tugged at you, fraying the edges of your resolve until you’d finally relented. It wasn’t just about her flu-stricken voice or her job being on the line; it was about loyalty and trust. She needed you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You knew how valuable long term placements were like this for any singer.  Closing your eyes you ran a hand over your face.  "....Alright.." 

*#*#*#*#*

Garment bag dappled over your arm you got out of the cab and stepped onto o the Brooklyn street and took a deep breath, your heart was already beating fast and you weren't even inside yet. The Armory—a name that carried its own weight of reputation and myth in the city. The building stood like a fortress, its polished black doors tall and unyielding, framed by golden accents that glinted faintly in the dim streetlights. Above, the red neon sign glowed steadily, its bold letters casting a warm yet foreboding light across the pavement. It was a stark contrast to the bustling streets behind you, as though you’d stepped into a different realm entirely.

Stories surrounded this place, just like they surrounded its enigmatic owner, Bucky Barnes. Everyone seemed to have their version of the truth: the whispers about The Armory being more than a 40's style jazz club, tales of shadowy dealings and high-stakes meetings, of power moves made over glasses of aged whiskey. But weren’t those just rumours? Every club had its legends, and every owner had a reputation these days—You were sure the stories exaggerated to keep people talking, to keep them intrigued enough to walk through those imposing doors.  

Still, there was something about this place that made your stomach twist, a subtle undercurrent of tension that you couldn’t entirely dismiss. Kara wouldn’t send you somewhere dangerous. That thought anchored you as you stared at the entrance. She wasn’t reckless, and she wouldn’t work for someone truly dangerous. You told yourself this over and over, as if repeating it enough would make it true. Kara had worked here for a while now, she wouldn't of stayed if it was what everyone thought? Right? 

Your heart pounded just standing on the street opposite, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your chest. Stepping into this world, even temporarily, felt surreal and overwhelming. Kara’s voice echoed in your mind: ‘Just one week. That’s all I need.’ Her words had been spoken with desperation, but the look in her eyes had carried something heavier—trust. She believed in you, even if you weren’t sure you believed in yourself.

But this was no ordinary stage, and you weren’t sure if you could live up to its demands. But you also couldn’t ignore the other reasons that had pulled you here: the paycheck. One week of performing at The Armory would pay more than a month of teaching, and that kind of money could make a real difference in your life. You could finally throw a significant chunk of it at the mountain of medical debt you’d been burdened with after your mother’s passing. It had been over a year, and yet the hospital bills still loomed, a constant reminder of everything you’d sacrificed and the weight of responsibility you couldn’t seem to shake.

The thought of finally lightening that load was enough to steady your resolve, even as your nerves twisted in your stomach. Beyond the financial relief, though, there was still that quiet, nagging curiosity about what it would feel like to stand on a stage like this again. Could the music still transform you the way it once had? Could it still make the world disappear for a while, allowing you to lose yourself in the notes and noise as you left your burdens behind, if only temporarily? You’re not ready for this. You haven’t sung in years, not in front of a crowd. You’d promised Kara, and backing out now isn’t an option. Just one week. You can do this.

You approach the imposing black doors of The Armory, shifting your garment bag draped to your other arm, it starting to feel heavier with every step. Your heart pounds in your chest, the weight of Kara’s trust and your own nerves pressing down on you.  The Armory's doorman was an imposing figure. Tall, broad-shouldered man stands stationed outside, his presence alone enough to give you pause. His buzz-cut hair, neatly trimmed beard, and piercing gaze make him look like he belongs more in a military barracks than as a bouncer at a jazz club.

He crosses his arms over his chest as you approach, his expression unreadable but intimidating. “You lost?” he asks, his voice low and gruff.

You shake your head quickly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “No, I’m… I’m here to cover for Kara. She’s out sick this week.”

His eyes narrow slightly, scrutinizing you as though weighing your words. The moment stretches uncomfortably, and you fight the urge to fidget under his gaze. Finally, he nods toward the door. “Oh yeah. They said someone would be coming."

You swallow hard, your voice a little shaky. “Well, here I am..” you don't sound as confident as you should of with that. 

The doorman let out a low grunt, his stance still firm and imposing. “Head in, you'll want to find Yelena inside, she'll take ya through to the back." You found yourself just nodding along with him "But next time," You pause mid step when he didn't move out of your way "-staff uses the door down the side.” "Cool, side entrance next time." You nod, relief washes over you as he steps aside, but his eyes remain on you slide between him and the heavy door. Heading inside.  The interior of the club feels like stepping into another era. Velvet drapes hang from the walls, cascading down in rich, luxurious folds, their deep burgundy color amplified by the warm, intimate lighting. Brass fixtures gleam faintly, and the intricate patterns on the dark wood floors seem to whisper of decades past. The patrons are dressed to match the ambiance, their suits sharp, their dresses elegant, their laughter soft and restrained, perfectly fitting the atmosphere of a place styled to evoke the golden age of jazz. It feels out of time, a deliberate nod to an era that thrives here, preserved as if untouched by the modern world.

You clutch your garment bag tightly, suddenly aware of how out of place you look in your jeans and jumper. As your eyes scan the room, taking in the polished mahogany bar and the vintage microphone perched on the stage, your heart beats faster. The smell of aged whiskey mingles with faint cigar smoke, the air thick with sophistication and something more elusive—a sense of power and secrets.

As you move tentatively toward the bar, your path was intercepted by a striking blonde woman. Her tailored outfit immediately catches your attention: high-waisted Catherine Hepburn-style trousers paired with a crisp white shirt, her sleeves rolled just enough to hint at both elegance and control. Her hair is swept into an old-Hollywood wave, and she exudes an effortless confidence that only makes you feel more underdressed.

“You must be Kara’s fill-in,” she says, her sharp green eyes appraising you in a way that makes your pulse quicken. Her tone is polite but firm, and her accent took you a second to place, Russian? You nod quickly, feeling your cheeks flush. “Yeah, that’s me. Just for the week.”

Her gaze flicks to the garment bag you’re clutching like a lifeline, and a small, knowing smile curves her lips. “Relax,” she says, gesturing toward the bar. “You’re not on stage yet. I’m Yelena, bar manager. Let’s get you situated. You look like you could use a drink too." 

“Thanks,” you manage to say, your voice a little shaky as you follow her. You feel like a nervous mouse, clutching your garment bag to your chest while Yelena strides confidently ahead. Her effortless grace and the way she moves through the room, completely unbothered by the watchful eyes of the patrons, make you feel even more self-conscious. She belongs here in a way you can’t imagine for yourself.

Instead of stopping at the bar, Yelena leads you toward a ‘Staff Only’ door tucked to the side. She pushes it open with ease, holding it just long enough for you to slip inside before it swings shut behind you. The space beyond the door is quieter, the hum of the club muffled as the hallway stretches out in front of you. It’s lined with warm wood panelling and faintly lit, the ambiance continuing the old-world charm but with a more practical edge.

Yelena glances at your garment bag and raises an eyebrow. "You brought options, I hope? The boss is picky, likes a certain look."

You nod quickly, feeling your cheeks flush. “I brought two, tried to keep it on 'theme' since Kara said it was like that here..” you stammer.

Yelena smirks, clearly pleased. “Clearly Kara gave you more of a heads up then I assumed she would..” She walks briskly, her heels clicking softly against the floor, and you have to quicken your pace to keep up. “Kara vouched for you.” she says as you round a corner. Her tone is neutral, but her sharp green eyes glance back at you, measuring. “You know the setlist?”

“I helped her put it together,” you reply, standing a little straighter. “I’m familiar with all of it.” 

Yelena nods once, clearly approving. “Good, good. The boss likes things perfect. Best keep that in mind, he’s a bit of a grump like that.” Her words are calm, but the weight of them is impossible to miss. It’s less a suggestion and more a warning.

She stops in front of a door and pushes it open, revealing a small but charming dressing room. A vintage vanity with a round mirror and warm, golden lights dominates one wall, while a small rack for clothing and a plush chair sit against another. It’s cozy, almost inviting, though the nerves twisting in your stomach make it hard to appreciate.

“You can get ready here,” Yelena says, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What would you like to drink?”

You blink at her, surprised by the question. “Oh, I don’t usually drink before performing,” you admit, though the idea of something to steady your nerves suddenly seems appealing.

Yelena smirks, as though she was expecting that answer, looking you up and down for a moment. “Whiskey, then. You can thank me later.” Before you can protest, she’s already turning to leave. “I’ll have it sent in. Take your time, you've got about half an hour before we need you.” she calls over her shoulder, the door clicking shut behind her and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You glance around the room, setting your garment bag on the rack and running your fingers over the vintage vanity. The soft glow of the lights reflects your anxious expression in the mirror, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. Whiskey might not be such a bad idea after all. “It’s just one week..” You told yourself out loud, and yet, one week was starting to feel like forever. END

[awakittie]

Get Jinxed!

warnings. maybe ooc, slight angst (mainly fluff), modern au, reader is shorter than jinx (yuurp), mention of blood

pairing. neighbour!jinx / reader

wc. 736

gif boarder from @/cafekitsune

( see to end for notes! )

jinx, who opts to sitting on the dirty stairs of the apartment complex amongst the musk just to catch you whenever you arrive home around 8pm. you never question it, not when you secretly revel in it.

you, who bakes pastries with the sole intent of passing them on to jinx. you claim as you hand them to her, grin wavering on the brink of cracking, that they were leftovers for your family.

jinx knows they’re not, yet she nods along to your fabrication with full attentiveness. you melt under her gaze, lidded knowingly from where she looks down at you.

jinx, who admires your baking skills and wants to try making something herself. she invites you to her apartment, presenting the pasta bake with a proud gest, fists situated on her hips.

it’s not bad, not by a long stretch. you try to ignore the set up; sat across from one another over a pot of pasta bake, candle directly in the middle of the table. it’s not a date, it’snotadate.

jinx, who despite lacking the ability to be anything but playful, is suddenly the thorn in your side when you’re sick. or lack-thereof. she’s actually a really good help; making varying soups that you’d shown her the recipes to, running you a nice warm bath with the added touch of candles placed neatly across the edges of the tub, etc etc.

you, who wakes up groggy with fatigue to the sounds of jinx in the other room, yelling profanities and hissing between her teeth. reluctantly you get up, finding her hunched over her desk with controller in hand playing some first person shooter (lets be real, she’d play Call of Duty).

the grin that sparkles under the dim pink of her monitor, thrown over her shoulder tells you she’s at least happy to see you awake at this ungodly hour. that was the first night you spent at her house.

jinx, who tells you she can’t paint her nails herself due to her being right handed. truthfully, she can as she’s ambidextrous — only uses that as an excuse to come over and see you. not that she’d tell you that, though.

jinx, who sends you varying photos throughout the day; her face bunched under multi-coloured scarves with her bottom lip stuck out in a pout from her walk, or her middle finger pointed at the red flash of the game over screen, or her failed baking attempts.

small things like that.

jinx, who struggles with letting you see her cry. the first time she did in front of you, she’d sat with her bottom lip wobbling with the weight of containing her tears. her whole body trembled, tears brimming her waterline as she picked at her fingers. you’d taken her hands in your own, the red liquids pooling over splashes of pink and blue.

you, who thinks you’ve finally gotten some time to yourself since she’d moved in, but that thought is instantly lost. your body, heavy with sleep carries you to the open window, hand dragging down the pane right as your eyes catch on the blue blob in the distance to your left.

jinx waves, head poking from out the window with her mouth gaping in a cheery smile. you sigh, offering a lifeless wave back.

jinx, who reluctantly after months and months of cringing away when you’d touched her hair finally gives in, tilting her head back into your touch as you situate yourself behind her.

“you’re never doing this again after today, you hear?” she quips. you nod, humming contentedly as your fingers thread her loose blue strands, rendered wavy from wearing them in braids.

she secretly enjoys it.

jinx, who shows up to your door with the same pastries you’d baked her the first time you met. that was the day she’d confessed her feelings for you, expressed how much you mean to her, how she’d do anything to live alongside you for the rest of her life.

the sentiment shocked you, and you stood gaping, eyes flitting between the sweet treats and her bashful smile. you’d never seen her this nervous before.

you and jinx, who then spend the night snacking on the pastries, lounging on the couch while some show played incoherently in the background.

all you could focus on was her.

A/N. yaaayy! jinx headcanons! honestly this is a mix of a bunch of different aus and headcanons ive seen over the past however long. im super tired this was written on and off for about a day, sorry its nothing too special >_<

[6okuto-moved]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeyFC7mc/ this but with keiji 🫣

(link :3) Stop. i literally have a multi-chara plan in a doc for this rn. STOPP MY KEIJI :((

a little suggestive, gn!reader

keiji didn't have a bad day, and when he's expected to join four different meetings in the next couple of weeks, alongside editing longer chapters than usual in time for this week's publication, not having a bad day is all he can really ask for.

though, maybe there's one thing, one privilege he'll always ask for at the end of the day to make it a little better.

"keiji!"

your voice rings clear as you jog to meet him at the entrance, slippers loud against the wooden floor. he hangs up his jacket just in time for you to grab his hands with a grin— "c'mere, i need you for a minute."

his lips form a half-smile, even as he furrows his brows while you pull him into the living room. "no 'hello'? no 'how was your day?'"

you turn to look over your shoulder. "hi, baby, how was your day?"

"it was okay, could've been better. thanks for asking. how was yours?"

"mm, could've been better, too. but i'm gonna make your day right now, sit down."

and he does, of course; he lets his bag fall off his shoulder and land on the rug, untucks his shirt and pushes up his glasses that have fallen down the slope of his nose. all the while, you take a seat beside him, close enough that your thighs touch, and balance your phone on the coffee table against the books that keiji thrifted a week ago.

he makes sure he isn't staring at you when you finally turn the camera on.

"wanna record a video with me?"

"people usually ask that before setting up the camera," he points out, "but, yeah, okay. do i have to do anything?"

"no, well, yes, but it isn't hard or anything. i'll explain when i hit record."

and before he can ask if this is another prank trend, you've started recording with a smile on your face.

"hi, guys! so, i saw this trend going around, and i wanted to try it out."

keiji narrows his eyes.

"basically, i have my husband here, say hi, keiji."

"hello- wait—"

"and he's going to list off his favourite colognes, and i'm gonna rank them!" you turn to face him, feigning innocence you know you don't hold. "go ahead, babe."

it's obvious what's going on, what this video is really supposed to be. he knows, and yet he can't stop from looping that word in his head again—

husband.

husband?

his eyes flicker down to your ring finger, then back up to your eyes.

keiji thinks he's stopped breathing.

he has stopped, actually—he's doing it manually, telling his brain to let out the carbon dioxide in his lungs for oxygen.

in,

husband-

out,

husband-

in-

would you like him as your husband?

out-

it's a push and pull, and when he thinks he can manage to say something, a "seriously?" or "well, the one i bought recently has a vanilla note that i've been enjoying," you make eye contact with him through the screen. again—

"c'mon, husband."

his head drops to your shoulder, and he pouts at the immediate laughter that follows.

"what's wrong, keiji?"

arms wrap around you, a hand finding its way to rest on your hip. "stop."

"stop what?"

"i hate you."

"you hate me? guys, my husband hates me, can you believe that?"

"oh my god."

keiji burrows his face into the crook of your neck, and you yelp as he nips at your skin— "keiji!"

your voice makes him pull you closer, hide a little longer, because despite everything, he knows he has a stupid, lovesick grin on his face, and that's something he wants only you to see.

so it's only after you reach to stop the video (with no help from your boyfriend that continues to cling onto you) that keiji finally looks at you, his cheeks flushed pink as he smiles.

then his fingers climb up to your waist, his skin warm against yours under your shirt, and it's your turn to be shocked this time,

"what are you—"

heat travels up your neck as his eyes look down at your lips, and he asks, "can i try to make your day better too?"

[tinydeskwriter]

Lando NorrisxWolff!reader

words: 2825

requested: no

A/n: This is going to be a multi-chapters, most of the chapters won't be social midia or something. It is going to 'follow' the 2023 F1 season. Reader is Toto's eldest child by a fictitious ex- first wife. I just watched Break Point, with is another sport Netflix docuseries from the same producing company that makes DST, and since then I have this idea of a prodigy tennis player reader.

next part»

GQ 10 things Y/n Wolff can’t live without

“Hi GQ, I am Y/n Wolff and here are my essentials.” The young woman opens her arms looking at the objects displayed on the table, before looking up and smiling to the camera.

# Sugar

“My trainer may not agree. My coaches may not agree. My performance coach may not agree. My parents definitely don’t agree.” She points out, “But I need sugar.” The young woman brings to the centre of the table a small pile of sweets, a tall cup of caffeinated drink and a can of Red Bull, “I live of sugar and… sugary things…”

“My day starts with this lovely peppermint iced mocha sweetened with vanilla sugar… a ton of vanilla sugar.” Y/n laughs taking a sip of her drink “I am weirdly obsessed with mint and chocolate combinations…” She comments looking at the camera, “I drink perhaps two or three of those per day,” The young woman then places her hand over the top of the Red Bull can, most people who follow her already know that she is an athlete sponsored by Red Bull, “sugar-free Red Bull, which ironically is sweeter than the regular one.” She puts her hand on the pile of chocolates, “Milk-chocolate, I am not going to lie and say that I eat the healthy stuff, I don’t, I have the taste buds of a child,” the tennis player smiles mischievously at the camera, “right now I am really into this Finnish chocolate, Geisha and the blue Fazer, daddy always keep those in his offices for me.” She wrinkles her nose a little, giving the camera a lovely—childish—smile.

“Aero Mint bar, Chocolate Orange, Maltesers, Bounty, Kinder, truffles…I'm honestly starting to wonder how we managed to get through customs.” She laughs looking at her entourage behind the cameras. “This is like… a fraction of what I usually travel with, this is more like what I have in my bag for the day.”

#Photos

Y/n played a little with a golden square object in her hand.

“I travel a lot, I am on the road from January to November playing at tournaments around the world, so I can’t always be surrounded or in touch with the people that I love,” she says in a slightly more serious tone, taking the golden case in her hands and pressing the button to open, showing pile of polaroid photos, “those are mini Polaroids, so I can bring them with me wherever I go, I keep them inside this vintage cigarette case that belonged to my maternal grandmother, she was a absolute rockstar and I miss her very much.”  The camera takes a close-up on the golden case with rope motif and small colourful stones. “As I don’t smoke, I had to find another use for it.”

The first photo she shows is five adults together, smiling around a table, in what appears to be a ski resort.

“I have a very patchwork family, and somehow the adults in my life made it work…which I am very grateful for, not everyone is lucky to have so many amazing parents…so here I have my mum and my two other mothers, Stephanie and Susie, papa and my other father, Phillippe,” the second photo is her with a boy not much younger than her, two teenage girls and a small child in front of a Christmas tree, “my siblings, I have four, I am the eldest whatever way you go, huge flex,” the photo is followed by one of a pyjama party with several girls in matching pyjamas, and another of the tennis player with a blonde in front of the Eiffel Tower, “My gurls! This is my best friend, she is also my PA… so amazing to have someone I trust so much with me all the time…” a golden cocker spaniel with a crystal necklace, silk bows in its ears and a Gucci sweater appears on the screen, “this is Éclair Wolff, my emotional support dog aka my child, she actually goes with me mostly everywhere, but sometimes I leave her with my mum so she won’t be stressed by the long flights.”

She points to the next three photos, the first has the Mercedes drivers in Tommy Hilfinger, posing for the photo. “Lew and Georgie, the adopted older brothers I never asked for, but I love them.” The second photo has three other familiar faces making faces at the camera, “C2, my Ferrari boys, feat Pear, there is something wholesome about good looking men looking so silly, I love those guys and I love this picture, it is very on brand with them.”  The tennis player smiles at the camera. “Sharls, Carlitos and Pear are three of the nicest guys I have ever met, it is truly a blessing be able to call them friends and having them in my life.”

McLaren driver Lando Norris, in his third or fourth season, apparently not even realizing he was having his photo taken, it's a spontaneous photo, the soft sunlight highlighting the driver's profile as he smiles.

“Because of karting, I’ve known Lando since I was a head taller than him, he was my first crush…he was so shy, so adorable, so babygirl coded.” Y/n blushed a little as she shows the photo.

“I think most of the current grid is in here…oh, look, it’s Lance! Friends from life, from tennis…” She quickly changes showing another photo. “I think I easily have about sixty photos here..."

#Camera

“I don’t have a specific camera I like more than the others, but as a rule, I prefer vintage cameras just for the beauty of the final result, I inherited a few, I bought a few, I usually develop the photos when I'm at home for longer periods of time, edit the videos, digitalize a few…” She points to the cameras in front of her, a Bolex, a Digital Bolex, a very iconic Rolleiflex and a Super 8, “It is a very nostalgic experience to just go through a year worth of memories…” She says resting her face in her hand, “I have a hundred boxes with pictures and film rolls.”

“I love going through old pictures with my mom and Cass, my younger sister, from when we were babies, my parents in the 90’s, my mom when she was young, the wonderful life my grandparents lived, and is such a lovely moment to share with my mom.” Y/n has a soft smile on her lips. “One day, when I have my own kids, I want to have those moments with them, and not just scrolling through a phone or an iPad.”

#Journals

“I keep journals since I was a child, I get a new one every year,” She holds up the leather hardcover notebook, a deep indigo blue, a little worn around the edges, “after I turned thirteen years old, I started to get it in this specific shade of blue, with my initials in gold,” The girl opens the journal, leafing through it briefly, “I am never going to write an auto-biography, it’s kind of a little bit too egocentric to my taste,” She knocks it closed, but keeps it up, looking at the camera as she speaks , “but if someone ever write about me, fifty years from now… the facts will be straight, at least from my point of view… but even if no one ever writes about me… when I am old and grey and memory starts to fail me, I will be able to come back to the thoughts of twenty years old me…”

There is a moment of silence.

“That was kind of dark.” Y/n laughs to break the tension.

#Art Supplies

“I love to draw and paint, it eases the anxieties of life,” The tennis player shows the large sketchbook, a small aluminium case with the watercolours, and the rolling leather case with pencils and brushes, “I always bring a watercolour travel kit with my sketchbook wherever I go.”

She displays for the internet some of the landscapes she painted during her travels around the world.

#Hoodies

“I like to be comfortable after a match,” she spreads her arms across the perfectly folded hoodies on the table, “and nothing is more comfortable than a hoodie, feels a little bit like home.”

“I have my collection of hoodies with Adidas, they always provide me with new cool colours to try out and see if I want to add to the next collection,” Y/n opens sage green hoodie, running her hand over her initials and the Adidas logo. “Enchanté by Dani Ric, I have a bunch of those, Daniel is always kind enough to drop them at my house in Monaco, VIP treatment baby.” She points to the white hoodie. “Quadrant hoodies, Lando’s merch, ridiculously comfy, I would really like them in pastel colours or dusty rose… just putting out to the universe…” Y/n smiles and winks at the camera. “Valtteri, MV1… those all came with me for the US Open.”

#Skincare

“This is part of my daily routine.” The girl opens the toiletry bag, taking out the products inside, “I am always in different countries and different hotel rooms, so is nice to have this little sense of routine.”

She lines the pearlescent bottles with opaque round lids on top of the table.

“I launched Muse when I was seventeen years old, it is my skincare brand, and it is very me. I wanted it to be un-complicated and complete,” The young woman explains passionately looking at the camera, “skin is the body’s largest organ, and it is not only your face.” It affects the hair on your face, tucking it behind your ear before going back to the product bottles. “The line goes from body wash to suncream to night-time routine.”  

#Travel Pillow

“If I mess up my neck and shoulder, I am f***ed, my match is over and possibly the tournament.” She holds up a medium-sized pillow to the camera, the pillowcase light pink silk with red buttonholes around the edges and her initials in the corner. “So, this baby goes with me everywhere, it is a memory foam pillow with a silk pillowcase. Best sleep, best hair.”

#Sport Gear

“I generalized here, sport gear, I travel heavy, always,” she points to the array of equipment on the table, “this is my racket, I go to each tournament with around ten of those, just in case I wreak one on the ground,” Y/n passes her hand over the racket, “those are custom Yonex Ezone 98, they made it in Mountbatten pink with some cool pattern and my initials,” she smiles as she pulls the helmet close to her chest, “my helmet, also custom Mountbatten pink, with my initials in rose, I love to try new karting tracks, most people don’t know I used to race karts when I was younger, won a couple of trophies, went as far as F3 before I choose to go pro with tennis, car racing is a huge thing in my family…my dad used to race, my stepmom was a driver, my little brother probably going to be a F1 driver,” she recounts with a smile, “I joked once with my dad that we are at a window that if I have a kid in the next year or two, in twenty years we can have a Wolff’s drivers line-up for Mercedes.” The young woman smirks to the camera. “My dad almost passed out, and now I am not allowed to date until I am thirty.”

#Headphones

“Those are custom made for me, again, they are Mountbatten pink and rose with my logo, super comfortable on the ears, I usually have problems with headphones due to the piercings and earrings, but these didn't give me any problems, they fit well, and I can spend the whole day wearing them." She takes the gadget out of the case, showing the details. “It's not wireless, because I always forget to charge it, so it has a wire, they made this lovely, thick cord that is durable and super resistant,” Y/n wraps the rope around her fingers, “it is noise cancelling and it is always with me before every match as an essential part of my pre-match rituals.”

“The right music kind of puts you in the right mood, I usually go with Eminem in 80% of my matches, I feel like it unleashes my inner fighter, these are matches where I'm not really worried about my opponent, it is just raw and a little bit thoughtless, I just play,” she comments, “when I know that my opponent is going to be hard on the mind games, which is not an uncommon move in tennis, I tend to listen to calmer and more melancholic music, piano, it keeps me in a more peaceful zone, I don’t get pumped up and full of adrenaline, my game tends to be far more calculated…”

 #

“That’s it. Those were my ten essentials,” the young woman smiles, “thank you, GQ, for allowing me to share my essentials, much appreciated, and thank you guys for taking the time to watch it! Much love and see you next time!” The athlete says, blowing a kiss and winking to the camera as the credits shows up.

__________________________________________

2,109,963 views   Aug 29, 2022

978 Comments

 userone

i was todays yrs old when i found out that tennis superstar Y/n Wolff is the eldest child of THE Toto Wolff

            user1

            From what little she talks about her dad here, u just get the vibes that Merce boss Toto is a softie girl dad, he keeps her favourite candy in his offices and forbids her to date until she’s thirty, this is so sweet

haterone

a billionaire’s nepo baby, talking about her millionaire friends and her unrelatable lifestyle and things

usertwo

Y/n’s hair is probably the healthiest hair i ever seen i need her hair routine

userthree

I am so obsessed with her career! I want to see her continue to succeed and be one of the biggest tennis players of all times. She deserves it. Such a talented, humble kid.

userfour

i loved hearing her talk about her family and friends!!! it is so crazy that she is close friends with a bunch of F1 drivers.

            hatertwo

            Not so crazy since she’s literally a f1 nepo baby, her daddy is part owner of Mercedes.

userfive

She's like that one super popular chick in school who's actually a total sweetheart.

usersix

I totally relate to her being a sweet tooth

@userseven

I love that she was not talking to the camera. She was actually talking to the people there behind the scenes

usereight

i love how a lot of these items are usually a stereotype of being pretentious—a vintage cartier cigarette case, a film camera, a leather bound custom hermes journal, art supplies--but she talks about all of them with such genuine interest and attachment that it doesnt seem pretentious at all

usereighteen

U r the one name dropping the brands she uses…

usernine

Her nicknames for Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr and Pierre Gasly… I died dead…

            user9

            The fact that she’s gushing about lando and being so sweet about her childhood crush on him oml

            user10

            Omg it is so cuuute!!! Like, she had a crush on little Lando and not McLaren glow up Lando Norris

            user11

            I used to be so conflicted shipping her with the drivers, because she dates that tennis player, but her insta has a bunch of her and Charles and her and Pierre and her and Lance and it is so cute and kind of gives such soft vibes, those boys look half in love with her in most pictures, also ...the chemistry. but seeing the way she talks about Lando… they r my new diehard ship…

userten  

Are we going to ignore that she confessed that Lando Norizz was her first crush???

            user1

            They would be so cute together… and they ate both single now… at the same time… we can dream…

            user12

            i went ten steps further and in my head, they are already getting married and having cute future Mercedes world drivers’ champions…

user13

 Can we already dream of Lando at Mercedes???

usereleven

Ok… but didn’t Lando once commented like, very briefly, in a McLaren video, that he used to have a crush on a girl that used to go karting with him??? The girl who wore red ribbons in her hair… do you guys know who uses red ribbons in heir hair since she was an actual baby?? Y/n! There is a pic in her insta of her in a karting track with her dad, and she has red bows in her hair…

            user11

            Not gonna lie… It would be kinda of cute if they actually had a mutual childhood crush and then eventually end up together as adults…

next part»

[itadores]

surprise!

note: everything i write is a little bit silly! i hope u enjoy u and sakura opening blind boxes hehe

pairing: sakura haruka x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

tags: gender neutral reader, fluff, established relationship, haru and baby used to refer to sakura

Your hands hover over your phone as the device precariously balances against your water bottle resting on the table. Once you’re confident that your phone won’t come tumbling down anytime soon and fall screen first against the wooden surface of the table, you turn towards Sakura and pat the open seat right beside you.

“Come sit, Haru!”

Sakura eases himself down onto the bench, his leg briefly brushing against yours before hastily retreating. You don’t allow him to go far, bumping your knee against his, a silent reassurance that he doesn’t have to go anywhere. Sakura doesn’t look at you as he scoots a little closer to you, thigh touching your own, nearly feather-light. You lean more into the weight, which is more than a welcomed presence.

“Why do you have your phone out?” Sakura questions after clearing his throat, unsure of its necessity.

You multi-task, replying to Sakura as you pull up the camera app on your device. “I want to videotape our unboxing!”

Sakura’s brows knit in confusion. “Why? Are you going to post it or something?”

You shrug. “No, I just want to film it.” You turn to face Sakura as light concern washes over you. “Are you okay with that? It’s not going to go anywhere besides my camera roll, so you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing it.”

“Yeah that’s fine,” he replies, agreeing rather easily. Sakura ends up giving in and going along with most of your desires, but he usually needs far more persuasion. “Just don’t go showing it to Suo or Nirei or any of the guys,” Sakura grumbles. “Don’t need them spamming my phone with messages for no reason.”

“Deal!”

If that’s all it takes for Sakura to agree to be filmed, then you’re more than happy to oblige him. It’s not too big of an ask, especially considering that you know he can still find it a little overwhelming when he receives a sudden influx of text messages despite having been in a group chat with his old friends since their first year at Bofurin.

“Okay, I’m going to start filming then. Are you ready?”

You wait for Sakura to nod before you hit record.

“Hi guys!” you say to your imaginary audience, waving at the screen. “Haru and I just went shopping and we bought some blind boxes that we’re going to unbox for you all today!”

You turn your attention away from your phone onto Sakura. Although there’s nobody else around listening to you, you lower your voice into a hushed whisper. “Baby, can you get our blind boxes out of the bag?”

Sakura grabs the plastic bag lying on the other side of him and sets it aside onto the table where it won’t block the camera.

“Thank you, Haru.” you give him a quick peck on the cheek, the skin warming beneath your lips.

“Yeah,” Sakura mutters under his breath as you reach across and grab the two blind boxes you purchased together out of the bag. Well, the two blind boxes Sakura purchased because he refused to let you pay for yours or the one you insisted upon him getting for himself. He had put cash down onto the counter of the cashier before you even had a chance to get your card out. When you tried to protest, he just mumbled that he was buying it, the tips of his ears burning red. You didn’t put up too much of a fight after that, resolving yourself to simply enjoy the sweetness of Sakura.

You place one of the blind boxes in Sakura’s hand before holding your own up towards the camera.

“These are the blind boxes we got.” you show the camera all the different angles of the packaging. You nudge Sakura lightly with your shoulder, prompting him to hold up his blind box in one hand. He’s a bit stiff and his movements are a little awkward. Sakura’s obviously unused to being in front of the camera and the center of its attention, but he’s endearing all the same.

“Which one do you want?” you ask as you inspect the back of the packaging, eyes roving over the different possibilities that you could be met with once you tore into the blind box. Sakura's brows furrow as he does the same.

"I'm fine with any of them," he says, shrugging. You roll your eyes, knocking your shoulder against Sakura's.

"Haru, you have to pick at least one you would really like to have!" you insist, voice bordering on a whine. You huddle closer to him, bringing your blind box between you two. "I think they're all super cute, but I really like this one," you say as you point to the option you like the most: a gray and white cat figurine with a shrimp tempura wrapped around its waist. "What about you, baby?"

Sakura's face screws up in concentration as he looks over the options again. You resist the urge to smoothen out the crease between his brows. "I guess I like this one the most," Sakura says, a little unsure, pointing at an orange and white cat figurine with a boiled shrimp wrapped around its head.

You nod in agreement. "That one's also super cute!"

Upon hearing your words, some of the tension leaves Sakura as he relaxes against you. You smile to yourself before looking back up at the camera. "Okay, we're going to unbox now!"

You attempt to open the box nicely, but after struggling for a bit, you, not so neatly, tear the cardboard apart. Your eyes fly to Sakura's face before you can catch a glimpse of the contents of the now ruined box. "Don't look inside yet, Haru!" you suddenly cry out. Sakura startles, hands pausing from opening the box. "Let's look at the same time."

"Okay," Sakura slowly says, head tilted in mild confusion. However, he doesn't question you.

"Okay, on the count of three! Ready?" You wait until Sakura nods to begin. "1...2...3..."

Once the number three leaves both of your lips, you immediately begin to truly tear into the packaging, pulling the figurine out of the wreckage of destroyed cardboard.

"Baby, I got the one you wanted!" you happily exclaim, showing off to Sakura the silly orange and white cat figurine with a boiled shrimp wrapped around its head that he liked the most.

"Isn't this the one you wanted?" Sakura asks, holding up the figurine he just pulled. Your eyes widen when your gaze falls onto the gray and white cat figurine with a shrimp tempura around its waist. The one that you wanted so badly.

"Oh my god, it's even cuter than I thought," you squeal. There’s no resistance on Sakura’s end as he lets you take the figurine from his loose grip. You bring the figurine close to your face, your eyes greedily soaking it all in. “It’s so cute,” you happily comment as you gently place it back into Sakura’s open palm.

“Do you want to trade?”

“Hm?”

Sakura rubs the back of his neck, his fingers twisting and tangling through black and white strands.

“Do you want to switch?" he asks again. "Since I got the one you really wanted,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears glowing a soft pink.

Your eyes light up.

“Oh, that’s perfect, Haru!" you gush. "Here," you say as you slip the figurine you unboxed into Sakura's free hand. He follows suit, handing the figurine you wanted off to you.

"Ah, it really is super cute," you say once more, admiring the cat figurine now in your possession. You lean further into Sakura, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. "Thank you again for buying them, baby," you murmur, lifting your head slightly to press a light kiss to Sakura's neck. You feel his pulse jump. "And for switching with me. I hope you like the figurine you got."

"It's no big deal," he tries to brush off, but the pink hue coloring his skin says otherwise.

"Still," you insist. "Thank you, baby."

"Yeah, you're welcome."

Most of the remaining tension in Sakura's body escapes into nothingness as he allows himself to fully sink into the weight of you. You happily sigh, utterly content with your current position. So long as Sakura indulges your want for PDA, you’ll continue to take advantage of it. Just as you're starting to get really comfortable, you abruptly sit up straight, startling Sakura into doing the same.

"I almost forgot to stop the video!"

[swampstew]

Captain_CumShot - Chapter 3

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Take a seat on the chaise lounge, plug your electronic device in so you can enjoy this multi-chapter, full blown smut story. The Captain is the snack and sadly, I have nothing to offer to soothe the yearning. As always, links to Wattpad and AO3 at the bottom. Enjoy, from your favorite loyal, cabin hoe♥

Summary: The Captain is sponsored for his birthday!

Minors DNI you will be blocked - for adult audiences only.

<new video alert>

Unwrapping/unboxing video

<press play>

“A little birdie whispered into a local sex shop’s ear and that same shop has sent me a sponsorship package for my birthday. I’m touched. Or, I will be. Soon,” Kid’s smirk graced the screen before the camera focus zoomed out to show the chaotic background.

A pile of half wrapped and opened boxes were towering on a pull out table – packing peanuts and tissue paper littered the floor which he kicked away as he stepped beside the display. Grabbing at random, he dangled collars and gags between his thick fingers before repeating the motion in a different box. Cock rings and bullet vibrators made heavy thunking sounds as he let them fall from his hand back to the box.

“There’s honestly so much, I think I’ll try out a few pieces, model a bit and give one or five toys some testing. This is technically also a review video.”

Sinking into steady chair he had pulled out, he sighed as he unbuttoned his black vest and pants.

“Ok, to make it interesting, I’m gonna do random grabs from a giant tub. Hold on.”

The video cut to the next frame, where Kid was unceremoniously dumping products into a 50 gallon tub. A colorful waterfall of silicone, plastic, metals churned around roughly a few times before he was satisfied.

“Let’s get this party started,” he snapped the first item off the top – a collar with a bell. He let out a chuckle, shrugged and buckled it on.

“I’m into pet play – I’m not usually the pet,” he winked at the camera.

Using his metal hand, he plunged it deep into the tub and rummaged for a second, pulling out a set of restraints and clamps.

“Sure, whatever,” he snorted, cuffing his flesh hand but leaving it dangling. He let out a quiet grunt as he clamped his nipples, the fine metal connecting the twin clamps allowed him to adjust the tension.

Letting out a shivered growl, “I can’t put all these on, maybe I’ll save some for future vids.

Dipping another hand into the tub, he hummed in surprise when he saw the sleeve. It was a silicon model of lips, a self-masturbation toy. The mouth was partially opened and it had a set of top row teeth that appeared stiffer to the touch as Kid’s fingers played with the trim.

“Pray I pull some lube next,” he laughed, scooping his metal hand once more. This time, he came away with multiple items. The lubricant, a ball gag, and an anal plug.

“I’d ask if God was there but I’m pretty sure this is the work of darker forces,” he almost cackled, face crinkled in entertainment.

Sticking by his promise, Kid poured the water-based compound in his hands and rubbed his fingers against his palm to warm it up. He smeared the lube generously around the plug, yanked his pants off, and turned so the camera would see his side profile. So his viewers could watch him slightly bend and work the toy in his ass.

“Want proof?” he barked and turned so his backside was exposed, and nestled between his enormous, sculpted glutes was the top of the plug. It had gone in swiftly.

Shrugging, “Surprised I’m a whore? You must be new here.”

Standing, Kid poured the lube into the mouth cock sleeve and rimmed the lips, teeth, and chin with the leftover sleek. Taking the side profile again, he teased his bulbous head with the top row of teeth, sliding it over the ridge of his tip. He slowly dipped into the sleeve without giving much reaction, at least not until he was fully sheathed.

“The inside feels nice, but its kinda firm and strict to move through.”

He powered through, partially closing his eyes as he uncovered himself and started pumping the sleeve up and down his girth, attempting to wear it in some. He found a good rhythm for a while before moving on.

“I dunno, maybe a heated lube or a warm wash to make the material more accommodating. The teeth felt nice though, realistic and kinda cute.”

Kid kissed the messy hole and tongued it lewdly, “How wet or hard did that just make you?” Laughing, he set the toy aside and returned to the tub.

The next gift set was pack of lingerie sets, one in red and the other in a deep wine color.

“Nice. Red’s always been my color,” he smiled, tearing the silk from the package. He let the material run against his skin teasingly before formally putting the thong on, snapping the rear line against the plug base. “Ok last grab, I’m use both hands.”

Behind the tub, Kid dramatically leaned over and plunged both arms elbows deep as he shuffled through items like a drag line wading along the sea’s bottom. With a triumphant grin, he yanked backwards and hauled a cellophane wrapped package.

“No. Fucking. WAY!” he shouted in excitement as he tore the plastic with his teeth. “The Mega Milker Masturbator,” he crowed as he held out the sex doll.

It was only half a doll, just the bubbly butt and with realistic looking skin and inviting holes. Holding it in one hand, he slapped the ass and it jiggled and trembled in place. He firmly gripped the fleshy material and dug his fingertips in. The doll sunk with the lightest amount of pressure. Kid was so pleased he let out a mewl.

“I’ve seen the ads but damn never thought about getting it for myself. Shiiiitt.” He whistled. As he described the specs and features, he slowly pumped his cock and lubed the orifices.

“Let’s see how well—” he paused, then a look came over his face. Stepping away, he came back with the wine colored lingerie and prepped the doll.

Sweeping the table with his arm, he stuck the doll down and moved the camera stand to have a better angle. He picked up the small control that was wired to the bubbly flesh, turning it on and a quiet motor made the doll shake and bounce with impressive speed settings as Kid flipped through them.

“I’ll try and leave a cum shot but this is The Mega Milker model – this might just become a straight cream pie vid. Shit, did you see my cock throb at that? Yeah, gonna give you an extra special dessert, since its my birthday and all.”

Making more adjustments, the edge of a microphone was placed beside the camera – to enhance the output.

“Happy birthday to me,” he tossed his head back as he sunk he erection all the way inside the doll. Gasping in pleasure as he switched the vibrations on and the hairs on his pelvis began to visibly tremble from the force.

“Oh fuck,” he cried before pulling out all the way, slapping the silicone material cheeks and sinking back in. The table legs scraped against the floor as he fucking into the doll. Pussy to ass over and over, his grunts becoming louder as he treated himself.

“Fuuuuccckkk me the vibrations are strong, especially if I—” he sighed as his hands squeezed the bubbly ass around his shaft. “Ohhh godsdamn she’s an ANIMAL!” he roared and laughed.

His thrusting grew harsher and the table squealed in protest as his hips banged against the top.

“Here. I. Cuuuummmm,” he moaned, stilling himself for a moment to let his ejaculation wash over him. Not finished, he pulled out and sheathed himself in the doll’s asshole and rutted against the material, wearing the motor down as he pinned it to the table.

With a low groan and head tilt, Kid pulled out and braced his back on the table, legs spread open for the camera and cock flopped on his lower stomach. His core was still shaking and the plug tightened and loosened as he came down.

Holding the doll above him, his semen and the lube trickled out and sprawled over his stomach as he emptied it out.

“I think this is my new favorite toy. I’m gonna name her,” he tilted forward to kiss the creamy pussy lips. Flicked his tongue between the folds and showed the camera his swallow technique.

“Nah nah, it can’t end like this. This toy, that’s not good enough for her. One cumshot, coming up,” he chortled.

Using his own seed to fluff himself, he stuffed his erect cock into the doll once more. He shifted on the table so his feet were planted on the ground and his torso was partially up. Holding the doll as he would a lover in reverse cowgirl, Kid turned the vibration setting to medium speed and began fucking the doll again.

“I’m taking name suggestions in the comments,” he groaned out, stroking himself with the toy. Switching the speed to the highest setting less than a minute later, Kid’s jaw gaped as his entire body tensed.

“Oh my fuuuuck, fuck f….---” he bit his lip and moaned.” The vibrations are making the plug tremble!”

Kid braced himself against the weary table and used all his force to slam the doll down on his cock until the fake flesh was pushing forcefully against his muscles as he fucked impossibly deep into it. Feet splayed and strained, Kid bit down harder as he held the doll, letting the vibrations bounce his cock so hard that the plug was shaking enough to make him feel shocks of pleasure run up his spine.

Letting out a guttural howl, Kid pulled the doll off and held it in front of him, strings of pearly cum shot out of his tip and splattered against the doll’s abused skin. Beading and rolling down the curves as Kid’s body shook from the pleasure.

Setting it down on the table, Kid gently removed the plug from his ass and inserted it into the doll’s ass.

“I’m a man of my word – I tested the fuck outta that doll and it has all the fucking stars a product can and should receive. How much was this worth?! I gotta step up my toy making skills!”

Kid slapped the fake doll’s ass one last time and droplets of cum flew off the jiggling mass before the video ended.

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Read More on Wattpad | AO3 And check out my new eustass kid blog dedicated to the whoreniest of posts @thecaptainsdeck

[princessleechan]

"You're the man!" Chapter 29 (written chapter)

Masterlist

⚽Chapter tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, double date time, awkwardness, wonwoo's little operation, soccer boy banter, suggestive

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @thomawifey @middle-of-the-earth @okiedokrie @itsokaytobedumb00 @humankimbap @zezedoesshit @teenyfinds @jeonghansshitester @aaa-sia @heyitz00 @silvsie

You couldn't feel more awkward sitting next to a girl you've barely known for five minutes while Chae throws herself onto Mingyu across from you, their closeness unbearable. Your gaze shifts to Ruka, your date for the evening, who remains absorbed in the game on her phone, her attention unwavering and completely detached from the dry atmosphere between you two.

Just perfect.

“I’m so happy to see us all here, right Gyu?” Chae's voice is tinged with playful affection as she clings to your roommate's bicep, her fingers lightly tracing over his firm, taut skin. Mingyu, caught off guard by her touch, tries his best to maintain composure and not melt under her lingering caress.

“Y-yeah. It’s great,” he stammers, clearly flustered.

You nod half-heartedly in agreement, the uncomfortable silence thickening the air between you and Ruka. She sits unmoving besides her finger tips, her focus unwaveringly locked onto the tiny screen of her phone, seemingly oblivious to the world around her. The ambient sounds of the restaurant—the clinking of utensils, distant chatter—fade into the background, and you feel like a useless fourth wheel with holes jabbed at either side.

Meanwhile, 'Operation: Save Wonwoo’s Love Life' is in full swing. Wonwoo and his carefully curated team sit in the shadows of a dimly lit booth, strategically positioned far enough away to avoid detection but close enough to catch snippets of the conversation—or the lack thereof—at the next table. Wonwoo adjusts his glasses, the lenses reflecting the faint light, before hiding behind his newspaper, leaning back against the worn leather booth and pretending to mind his own business.

“You know you only look more suspicious like that,” Jeonghan quips, his eyes darting briefly from his phone screen, where he's engrossed in scrolling through social media. The other boys—Jihoon, Soonyoung, Joshua, and Junhui—take Wonwoo's lead, their gazes fixed on the double date unfolding before them like they're watching a dramatic reality show.

“Until it fails me, it hasn’t failed me yet,” Wonwoo mutters, his voice tinged with anxiety as he peeks over the top of the newspaper.

Jihoon coughs in disdain, "I swear, we're one restraining order away from becoming stalkers.”

Junhui hums appreciatively as he savors his sundae, each spoonful a taste of pure bliss. The rich chocolate sauce drips down the sides, and he makes a show of enjoying every bite. “You guys need to try the new dessert specials. It’s so good.”

“How are you eating dessert already?” Joshua asks, eyeing the decadent confection with envy as he lowers his newspaper. “Our entrees haven’t even come out yet.”

“I got excited and came by early,” Junhui explains with a sheepish grin, offering a spoonful to Joshua. “Want some?”

“Of course,” Joshua replies sassily, but he takes the spoonful almost immediately, the sweet treat melting on his tongue.

“Guys,” Wonwoo exclaims, exasperated, as he rustles the cumbersome stack of papers in front of him. “Focus, boys. I’m about to lose my girl to the eighth dwarf, Slutty.”

Jeonghan rests a reassuring hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, his touch meant to calm the frazzled mastermind, though a hint of amusement plays at the corners of his lips. “I really don’t think you have a problem with Yeonam, but who am I to question your judgment?”

“I have a question though,” Jihoon interjects, nursing his Coke Zero with delicate fingertips as he stirs it with a singular straw. “What exactly are we supposed to do? Watch their date like some weird old perverts and twiddle our thumbs while we wait for it to fail?”

Wonwoo sighs, frustrated, and puts down his newspaper. “No, we ensure that Ruka comes out of this still single.” His determination is palpable, a blend of desperation and hope driving his every move. “My chances were already low, I don't want them to be zero.”

“For what? For you to yandere over her in the shadows?” Jihoon taunts, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t make me climb over there.”

“Guys, wait,” Soonyoung gently halts them, his voice unusually serious. “Look.”

The boys' attention shifts to Ruka, who suddenly slams a palm against the table, her scowl deepening. “Fuck! Two stars? This shit’s annoying.”

“Ruka, look up from your phone, girlie,” Chae encourages brightly, her arm still linked with Mingyu's. “Yeonam was so excited for this.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, haha.” You force a grin, turning to your date. “So, did you win?”

Ruka scoffs dismissively, her attention still fixated on her phone. Without acknowledging your question, she flags down a passing waiter with practiced ease. The waiter moves swiftly, as if guided by the wind, and returns promptly with another shiny aluminum can of Mountain Dew Kickstart. Ruka cracks it open with a familiar motion, taking a long gulp, nearly draining half of it in one go, and returning to her mobile game.

Wonwoo shrugs, his voice tinged with resignation. “Monster is the better choice–if not the right one–but not all relationships are perfect.”

“This is so stupid,” Jihoon grits out, already letting his impatience show.

Meanwhile, Chae delicately prods at her date, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness as his arm was sandwiched between her breasts bulging through her shirt. “Mingyu, I’m having a great time.”

“Really?” Mingyu's eyes light up, hope and happiness dancing across his face like flickering flames.

“Mmhmm,” Chae hums softly, her gaze locking with his, eyes sparkling with genuine enjoyment.

And here you had believed men couldn’t be more uncomplicated. Despite the sparse exchange of words throughout the date, Mingyu is visibly enthralled by Chae’s simple affirmation. You observe him practically glowing with delight, his usually composed demeanor giving way to earnest stammered compliments, each word twisting a dull ache deeper into your gut.

“So, Chae,” you ask, trying to steer the conversation away from your discomfort. “When did you know you liked Mingyu?”

“Oh me? Well, I guess I’ve always known how…strapping he is, but he’s always felt out of reach, but I said ‘fuck it.’ So I finally picked up my boots and asked him out. And boy do I not regret it.” She drags her fingers down his chest with deliberate slowness, tracing the divide between his pectorals, eliciting timid giggles from him. The sensation of her touch against his skin causes Mingyu to squirm slightly, caught between delight and nervous anticipation.

“That tickles.”

She laughs, running her perfectly manicured fingers through his hair and enraging you even more. “Sorry, You’re just so adorable.”

“Right, right.” You interrupt. “But you like him, why? Surely it’s not just because of his looks.”

“Of course not,” she chuckles, “he’s also like so…ambitious. Athletic. Charming? Need I go on?”

“Sure, those are great qualities but—“

“Are you jealous? Yeonam, Ruka is right next to you.” Her teasing tone carries a hint of amusement as her eyes flicker over to your date.

You steal a glance at Ruka, noticing her continued absorption in the game on her phone. Despite your attempt at a smile, a knot of unease tightens in your stomach, and you nervously rub your dry palms against your textured pants. The soft hum of the restaurant surrounds you as Ruka leisurely takes another long sip from her recently acquired Mountain Dew, seemingly indifferent to the suffocating tension that fills the air, particularly affecting you.

“I’m not jealous,” you assert quietly, though the words feel hollow in the midst of the uncomfortable silence.

“Really? Because you’re acting like I’ll steal your roommate right from under you.”

“Yeah, Yeonam,” Mingyu agrees with a chuckle, “it’s all good. What’s the issue?”

"Just making conversation, Ruka. So, do you like… cheese?"

She responds with a slight grimace, a fleeting expression of annoyance crossing her features, before swiftly returning her gaze to her phone screen. The dim glow illuminates her indifferent expression as she continues tapping away, lost in her virtual world.

“Great,” you mutter.

“That’s my girl,” Wonwoo grins, brimming with pride.

“This date is kinda lame,” Soonyoung mumbles before Jeonghan chimes in similarly, “Yeah. When does it get good?”

“This isn’t a fucking soap opera,” Wonwoo retorts, “just keep watch.”

The date takes a turn when Chae gets confident. His hands move with gumption, gliding over Mingyu’s skin as her lips run a feiry path down his neck. A moan escapes past his lips as he leans into her, gently caressing her shoulders, and getting into the rhythm faster than any blue hedgehog.

“Oh here we go,” Soonyoung observes with a growing smile.

“Mingyu, you useless virgin,” Wonwoo grumbles.

Barely able to endure another second of the couple in front of you lost in primal acts, you reach your breaking point. A storm of frustration brews in your chest, and your fingers dig into the denim of your Levi jeans, the fabric stretched tight against your tense thighs. With a shallow breath, you gather your resolve before abruptly rising from the booth.

“You know, I think I forgot to do something back at the dorms. Sorry for the abrupt end, Ruka, but maybe we shouldn't do this again. Bye.” Your words come out rushed, laced with unease and annoyance.

You storm out, leave the boys watching in a bit of shock before they avert their gazes back to the threesome as sound of the door swinging shut behind you with a decisive thud erupts a domino effect. As Chae watches your departure, she disengages from Mingyu as swiftly as if unclasping Velcro, her expression shifting to a forced, amicable grin. “Yeah, this was nice, but I've got to go too,” she says quickly, her eyes darting between Mingyu and the exit you just stormed through.

“What? Why?” Mingyu asks, disappointment evident in his voice, heart still pounding from the tension Chae’s abrupt display of affection.

“Sorry. I just suddenly remembered I think I left my living room lights on, but this was fun. We should do it again. See you.” And with that, Chae exits just as swiftly as you, leaving Mingyu to process her departure.

He turns to his roommate's abandoned date, Ruka, who is still engrossed in her phone, and slumps down in his chair, not only disappointed but regretful. “So, you and Chae are cousins?” he engage awkwardly.

“Mmhmm,” Ruka replies nonchalantly.

He scratches his forehead, blowing an exhausted sigh. “Did you like the date?”

She shrugs. “Whatever.”

“…What Valorant rank are you?”

Ruka pauses her game for once, looking up at Mingyu with a hint of interest, thumb pads hovering over her phone screen. “Ascendant. Why?”

“Want to know an Immortal, before he becomes Radiant?” Mingyu suggests with a grin

“You’re an Immortal?” Ruka asks, intrigued.

“No, but I know one.”

And somewhere in that restaurant sits a very embarrassed man with strawberry colored ear tips and bright tomato expression, he was ready to crawl back in his humble hole now.

[seaouidbabyx]

When did you get this?|| Matthew Sturniolo x F!Reader PT 2

HEYYY YA’LLL WELCOME TO PART 2.

READ PART 1 IF YOU WANT

Summary: After some dangerous looks, and a week full of lingering touches and flushed faces, you decided to wear new jewelry to a party that gets a little more of a reaction then it was meant for.

WARNINGS: Smut Ya’ll, i finally did it. I bit the bullet LMAO. Unprotected P n V,ya’ll please wrap it before you tap it. Oral( F Receiving ), fingering, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, ma, sweetheart). Tension, Reader has a new belly ring that now has a dangling M on it. Grumpy Matt once again. Alcohol consumption (not anything bad it’s a party)

1 Use of (Y/N)

This is a long one be warned, i got a bit carried away.

——— ᯓ★

- 8:45 PM. Your Bathroom.

from: NickyBitch 🎀

what time are you going so we can go and what are you wearing? x

I heard the familiar ping from my phone as it vibrated from the sink counter next to me. I looked down at the screen, rolling my eyes at Nick’s message before smiling at myself. I opened the message, tapping the camera and taking a photo of my outfit. My black skirt sat nicely on my hips, showing off my belly ring. The black top I wore was covering my in all the right places, the high neck and no sleeves gave it a classy look. I straightened my hair and it hung over my shoulders. I posed with a hand on my hip, winking in the mirror as I touched up my makeup and sent the photo through and told him i’d be there at 8.

I smiled, placing my phone back down and looked at my jewelry box on the shelf next to my bath. In it, was a new belly ring with a sparkly silver M that dangles. I smirked to myself, before picking it up and looking at it in my hands. This whole week, Matt has been teasing me. Sending me smirks, teasing me instead of me teasing him, and lingering touches when we were alone. I rolled my eyes at the thought of the grumpy boy.

I unscrewed the top ball of my belly ring and replaced it with the new M one. I smiled at myself as it hung against my skin, wanting nothing more for him to touch me like he did in the kitchen last week. I can’t get it through my head how a little belly ring could have set this all off. If he liked the belly ring so much, it’s my turn to tease. I picked my phone off the counter and took it to my room as I get ready to leave.

To: NickyBitch 🎀

i’m on my way, see you guys now. xxx

———ᯓ★

9:26 PM- a house party in the city.

I closed the door to the Uber with a smile; thanking him as I walked up the pathway to the house party. It was filled to the brim with people, multi colored lights and music could be seen and heard from miles away. The shouting and the talking brought a smile to my face as I made my way up the stairs. Beer cups and bottles were set everywhere, the smell of smoke and weed could be smelt. I smiled, time to let loose.

I walked through the door with a feign confidence, trying my best to keep my head high and not look at the other people around me. My black boots thumped against the floor as I made it through the house. There was a pool table near the back by the living room, and that’s where I caught the triplets standing. Chris had the pool cue in his hand, his silver chain hanging low as he bent over to take a shot. Nick and Matt were leaning against the wall, drinks in their hand as Nick looked like he was talking Matt’s ear off.

Chris shot his ball, sinking it. It caused everyone to cheer around him. Nick was the first to spot me as I walked up, eyes landing on me with a smile. “You’re finally here!” He shouted, pushing himself off the wall and around Chris to come and hug me. I laughed, hugging him back. “It takes time to look this good man, fuck off.” I smiled back, releasing from the hug. Chris saw me and whistled, holding his pool cue in one hand and opened his arms while waiting for me to hug him. I rolled my eyes with a smile as I hugged him back. “Looking good Ma,” Chris spoke, releasing me and walking around the pool table to line up for his next shot.

I walked with Nick back to the wall, looking at a stone cold Matt. His arms were crossed, looking down at me. I smiled at him, “You gonna let me hug you or not?” I asked, looking up into his blue eyes. “Shut your fucking mouth before I do it for you.” He huffed, looked to his right before opening up his arms and wrapping them around my shoulders. I laughed as he pushed my face into his chest, wrapping my hands around his waist. I pulled back a little bit, looking up with our arms still around each other. He had a small smile or smirk going on, and it made me grin. I released him, turning around looking at Chris. “I’m playing you next, sucker!” I pointed.

He let out a loud laugh, sinking the 8 ball. “Oh no. I’m shivering in my boots” He teased, passing me the pool cue as he wracked up the next round.

———ᯓ★

Nick had bought me a drink while I was beginning to play against Chris, leaning low especially in front of Matt. I knew my skirt was short, and I knew what it was doing to him. He hasn’t seen my new ring yet, and it was now time to show him.

I moved to the other side of the pool table, now directly across from Matt, who was now sitting with his legs wide and his back against the old leather couch with my best friend next to him. His forearms rested against his thighs, a drink in one of his hands. He smirked at me, and I blushed, wetting my lips and smiled back. Now that I have his attention, I raised my arms above my head and pretended to stretch, knowing that my shirt would raise and my belly ring would show. I yawned, before I heard a cough, almost choking sounds.

I looked at Matt, whose hand was so tight around his cup that it was beginning to crush under the pressure. His eyes zoned in on my stomach, and I tried my best to conceal my laugh. “You okay there Matty?” I asked, trying to sound innocent. His cold eyes turned hot as I felt his gaze match mine. Nick turned to run his back, genuinely worried for his brother. Matt hummed a response to Nick, and looked sternly away from me, leaning back against the couch once more.

I smirked, knowing my little teasing game was working.

———ᯓ★

After a few drinks, the buzz flowing through me, Nick and I had decided to head to the makeshift dance floor. The music was pumping, filling my ears while the alcohol filled my veins. I looked at Nick, who was dancing with me. His face was a little flushed, but he danced a little crazy, but that’s what made me laugh at him even more. He laughed back, causing me to giggle endlessly. A good song came on (HEAVEN AND BACK by Chase Atlantic) and I closed my eyes, my heart racing as I heard the intro. I ran my hands over my hips, then up my chest, over my boobs and past my neck into my hair.

I swayed my hips to the rhythm, not thinking about anything and enjoying the feeling. I brought my hands up the sky before opening my eyes, completely coming to a still. Instead of Nick in front of me, Matt stood with his arms crossed and a hard look on his face. My heart stopped, “Matt!” My voice came out a little breathless as he scared the shit out of me. My hands dropped to the side, before placing one on his chest. “What, is this your way of asking me to dance? Because you’re gonna have to try a little harder-.” I was interrupted, he placed his whole hand around my wrist and in one move he pulled my arm away from him, causing my body to collide into his. Chest to chest, my heart was racing. His other hand had come to rest on my hips, giving it a firm squeeze. I gasped, fluttering my eyes as I looked at him through my lashes.His blue eyes pierced through mine, looking down at me. His black fitted t-shirt did nothing to stop the heat radiating his body. His chest was rising and falling vigorously, “What fuckin game are you playing?” He spoke, his voice having a slight rasp to it. I smiled, “I’m not doing anything, honey.” I looked up at him innocently.

The grip he had on my hip tightened, his jaw ticking as he tilted his head and licked his teeth. I released my hand from his grip and placed it behind his head, followed by my other arm. His right hand joined his left at my hips, as he continued to look down at me. I started to move my hips towards the rhythm, slowly. He sucked in a deep breath, looking entranced as he started to follow my dance. The silence from both of us was a warning, we knew what would happen if we broke it.

I was starting to breathe a little heavier as I felt his hands moving lower. His one hand was resting just above my ass and the other was moving up. His fingers gently made it under my shirt and placed against my skin. His rings were cool against my hot skin. I breathed out gently at the touch, our faces mere inches from each other.

He let out a breath once more when he didn’t feel a bra under my shirt, before placing the hand that was under it on my jaw and bringing my lips to his. I gasped, kissing him back passionately. His tongue forced an entrance into my mouth, exploring it as we fought for dominance. I lost (obviously) and groaned as he grabbed a fistful of my ass and brought my body closer to his. I pulled on his hair at the back of his neck and he let out a groan. He pulled away from me, his pupils blown with lust.

He grabbed one of my hands once again, bringing it down. “Let’s go.” He said sternly, pulling me through the crowded dance floor. “What about Nick and Chris?” I asked, stumbling through people as he was making a quick pace to his car. “I’ll pick them up later when i’m done with you.” I smiled, giddy as we made it outside.

———ᯓ★

My back was slammed against the door of Matt’s bedroom, my gasp swallowed by Matt’s lips as he kissed me hotly. I was grabbing his body, tracing my hands wherever I could touch. “Now, when did you get this?” He lowered his voice as he pulled away, beginning to take off my skirt, revealing my sparkling M belly ring. I smirked at him, while grabbing the bottom of his hem as pulling it up. “Just got it yesterday, only wanted you to see it.” I said against his lips.

He pulled his shirt over his head, doing the same with mine before gripping my hips and leading me to the bed. He slapped my ass as I crawled onto the bed, causing me to squeal. He smirked as he watched me lie on my back against his blush cushions. He grabbed my ankles, pulling me towards him, placing my calves around his waist. He leaned down and placed kisses from my ear, down to my breast bone. I whimpered as I felt his breath, his tongue and lips against my skin. I laid on my elbows, looking down at him. He smirked against my skin, those blue eyes looking electric as he matched my gaze.

He made his way down my chest, leaving marks in his wake: I felt his tongue go further down, just above my belly ring. He looked at it, before caressing it gently with his hand. “Fuck sakes,” He groaned, rubbing his hand over his face as he looked at the ceiling. “What?” I asked, breathless. It was soon turned into a moan as he started kissing down my inner thighs. He then let out a breath over my clothed core, pulling my lacy pink panties to the side.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, I just can’t get enough of you.” He slurred, licking a stripe up my folds. I moaned loudly, throwing my head back in pleasure. My hand now went down to go through his hair. His tongue licked over my clit, causing me to jerk my hips out at the shock. I almost screamed when he started to suck on it. “Matt!” I moaned, arching my back, pushing his face closer. I moved my hips, grinding against him, before he wrapped his hands under my thighs and held them open with his ring clad hands.

“Taste so good-.” He slurred once again, going back to kiss my clit. “Look so good, sound so good. I bet you feel so good, ain’t that right Ma?” He said, moving his finger to play with my entrance before pushing two fingers in. “Fuck-! Matt, it’s s’good.” I moaned, looking down at him. He came up for air with a vicious smile on his face. “Wanna feel you cum on my fingers baby.” He said. I looked at him, moaning once more as he hit that spot in me and started to repeatedly hit it.

I looked up at him, my mouth open and my face scrunched in pleasure. “I-I’m so close Matty, please don’t fucking stop-!” I whimpered, moaning. I clenched against his fingers, feeling the knot in my stomach close to snapping. His pace picked up, “You know how fucking mad you drive me? I think this is the new solution to fixing it, don’t you think sweetheart?” He said, moving his mouth down to my clit once again.

I let out a high pitch moan at the contact, feeling my orgasm hit me. “I’m cumming, Matt- Matty baby i’m cumming!” I shouted, arching my back and feeling my legs begin to shake as I release. My orgasm washed over me, Matt helping me through the high by kissing my body. He came back up to me y face, pushing the sweaty hair away from my forehead and sticking his other two fingers in his mouth.

I gasped, looking up at him. “How was that baby?” He asked, softly. “Wanna make you feel good, Matty.” I slurred, still coming down from my high. I pushed him over, letting him fall to his back. I placed my hands on chest, making moves down to his waist. His breathing became a little heavier. I got to his waist band, pulling his cock out. It was thick, and heavy. It’s tip red and angry, needing desperate attention. “Is this okay?” I asked, he looked down at me with hooded eyes, and his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth.

I bend down, letting my tongue fall out my mouth as I licked his cock from the bottom of his shaft from his tip. Matt gasped; “Fuck fuck fuck-.” He stated as I pulled the tip into my mouth. I let my cheeks sink down to the bottom, his dick filling my mouth perfectly. I then started to hollow out my cheeks before making my way back up and began sucking him off.

He groaned, letting one of his hands tangle in my hair. He didn’t push, thank god, but he did tug on my hair a few times as I got closer and closer to his naval. I then pushed him all the way to the back of my throat, hearing him gasp and moan was all the motivation I needed. I continued to see that I sucked him off, lots of saliva filling my mouth. He then tugged my hair, pulling my off. He grabbed my jaw, “As much as i’m fucking loving this, I need to cum in you.” He stated, with a rasp. I nodded eagerly, coming up to kiss him. I climbed into his lap, feeling his wet cock against my folds. I moaned, feeling him run through my wetness. I lifted my hips, ready to position myself over him, before he grabbed my hips and flipped me over.

“Wanna see your face when I make you feel good baby.” Fuck, I might’ve just cum from him saying that alone. I wrapped my legs around his waist, but he placed his hands under my legs and brought them up over his shoulders. I clenched around nothing, feeling so anxious but so excited at how ready I am to be filled by his thick cock. He looked at me, “Do i need to get a condom?” He asked, breathless. I looked at him, “I’m clean, and on the pill. You should know since I share a bathroom with your brother.” I snapped, getting impatient at wanting him to fill me. His eyebrows raised, and he smirked. “Is that so?” He said darkly, slapping his tip against my clit.

I moaned loudly at the overstimulation. “Okay-fuck! Please Matty, please please. I’m sorry-!” I whined, closing my eyes as my faced scrunched. I can’t deal with the teasing. He chuckled darkly, placing his tip at my entrance. We both gasped as he went all the way. “Fuuckkk-.” He groaned, looking at me with a face full of pleasure. “S’big Matt.” I whined, feeling a tinge of pain at the size of him. He kissed my calf next to his head, “It’s okay baby, we’ll take it slow.” He started to move at an agonizing pace, and the pain slowly moved to pleasure. I cried out, feeling his cock fill all my walls, hitting my g-spot.

He then started to move faster, his thrusts getting harder and deeper. “God, Matt, you make me feel s’good! Keep going!” I moaned, looking up at him. His eyes were trained on where my pussy kept pulling him in. He looked in awe “You’re taking me so well baby, fuck. Never gonna wanna stop fucking you, stuffing you full.” He purred. He then reached his hand down between us, his thumb now rubbing circles around my clit. I cried out loud, gripping onto his forearm. “Matt- baby please! i’m close!” I shouted, looking up at him with begging eyes.

He smirked viciously once again, speeding up his thrusts as well as his thumb, making the cord in me snap once again. My orgasm hit me like a train, shaking as I clenched around him. “That’s a good fucking girl, cumming for me.” He gripped my jaw, squishing my cheeks as he continue to fuck me dumb. His pace continued, but his thrusts got sloppier. “You gonna let me cum in this tight pussy?” I whimpered as he continued, groaning as he hit that spot continuously. “Yes, Matt! It’s yours! Please cum in me-.” I cried, arching my back in ecstasy. “Fuck, fuck baby. I’m cumming!” He groaned, fucking me hard one last time before releasing hot ribbons of cum into me.

We both groaned, as he collapsed onto me, wrapping his arms around me. “Let me get you cleaned up,” He whispered into my neck. I smirked, “Who are you and what have you done with my Matt?” I smiled, kissing his cheek as he got up to walk to the bathroom. He came back with a rag and softly started cleaning up. He looked through his draw, throwing me a tshirt of his and a pair of boxers. I laughed at him as we had the matching lets trip sweat set on, his got the pants and i’ve got the shirt. He went to the bathroom, closing the door.

I heard his phone ring from the side of the bed, and I rolled over to look at it. Nick was facetiming Matt. I smirked, answering. The oldest triplets face popped up, looking at me. “Hello?” I asked, with a smile and my hand under my chin. He looked at me confused, “Where are you guys? Where’s Matt?” He shot out some questions. I feel Matt come up behind me, placing his head in my neck, before smirking up at Nick. “AHHH! WHAT THE FUCK!” Nick screamed, slapping a hand over his mouth before cackling like a mad man.

Matt and I laughed, “We’re coming to fetch you boys now.” I spoke to Nick, causing Matt to groan. I ended the call. “You’re the one that said that, i’m just copying your words.” I teased, placing a kiss on his lips.

I got up from the bed and walked to the door, hearing his footsteps and keys behind me. He slapped my ass one more time, causing me to laugh.

—-

A/N - YALL HOW WAS IT. this was my first proper smut so please, i’d love to hear some feedback. WOW did i get carried away with this, i’ve literally also never had anyone ask to be tagged in something so thanks for @junnniiieee07 for wanting to be tagged. will forever appreciate you.

If you need anything, let me know!!

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

somewhere only we know

—or, herc visits captain fairbairn’s new office.

They walk through the terminal, the same way they once did all those years ago, though now Herc can sometimes be a little unsteady on his feet. It should be difficult to reconcile with the robust captain Linda remembers from the beginning of her career, who had been a bit of a health-nut even before it had been overly trendy, but—everyone who has loved Linda, and she has loved in return, is getting older. Such, she reckons, goes the arc of life.

“All right?” she asks him, who has a hand looped through her arm. He sends her a positively sappy look, and she rolls her eyes. Beside them, a respectful distance away, walk the two other pilots on this long-haul flight. The first officer operating out tows Linda’s flight kit along with hers.

“You’ve come such a long way, my dear,” Herc tells her as they continue down the terminal to their gate. He hasn’t been flying for a little over two years now—he had seen his last student to a multi-engine certification before hanging up his hat and bowing from the flight-school enterprise that Carolyn’s airline had metamorphosed into, the one Arthur had inherited and was currently managing back in Fitton. “You’ve worked so hard.”

“But you are to thank for…a lot of it,” she returns, focusing on guiding him onto the moving walkway ahead of her first officer and relief pilot.

“I’m honored to have been part of your journey, in that case.” He pauses, and Linda looks aside and sees the twinkle in his eye. “Captain Fairbairn.”

She feels her ears grow a little warm, and she ducks her head with a shy smile. It has taken some getting used to, but after moving from short-haul legacy A320 to long-haul A330 and subsequently bidding into one of the inaugural A350 captain positions, she finds that it’s less of a foreign title than when she began at Swiss. It’s just that when Herc calls her Captain, or her dad…those are the only times it makes her blush.

They approach the gate; a gate agent comes up to them. “Good morning, captain. You requested a non-rev seat for a guest today?”

“Yes,” Linda nods aside at the man on her arm, who’s now staring outside the terminal windows at the glistening A350 on stand at the apron, its fuselage narrowing into a daintily pointed nose and its wings gracefully curving up at the tips. She doesn’t blame him—the A350 is objectively a beautiful aircraft. “Hercules Shipwright,” she tells the gate agent, and Herc tears his gaze away from the airplane to acknowledge the agent with a nod.

She can’t wait for him to see inside of her aircraft.

“Wonderful,” the gate agent says. “Welcome, sir,” she says to Herc. “We’ll give you priority boarding, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Herc disengages himself from Linda, and she misses the comforting presence of her friend at her side. “Linda, I’ll find a seat by the window. I’ll see you out there, yeah?”

“See you,” Linda tells him, and leads her flight crew down the jetbridge.

The previous crew has left the plane turned around and ready for them; Linda pops her head into the galleys while her first officer starts preflight checks, greets the flight attendants, and reminds the purser about her guest.

As preboarding approaches, the first officer excuses herself to do the walk-around, and Linda is left alone with her thoughts in the flightdeck.

She peers out of the wide windows, past the six touch-screen LED displays. Though kitted out with more technology than she could ever have dreamed of, the family resemblance is clear in the design philosophy of the flightdeck—it’s very clearly an Airbus, from the fold-out tray tables to the blatant absence of a yoke. There had been a time when she’d thought she might make the switch to Boeing, but when Swiss had decided that the A320s it had taken in the merger with Cal would stay in the fleet, Linda’s future as a true-blue Airbus pilot was cemented.

Not that she’s complaining about it, when some of her happiest memories are framed by an Airbus-designed flightdeck.

Herc, true to his word, has taken a seat by the window of the terminal and is staring out at her with a smile.

Linda gets up, leans over the displays, and holds a hand up to the window in greeting; in return, Herc languidly waves at her. She grinned as he holds up a finger, one minute, and gingerly takes his phone from his pocket to snap a picture. Once finished, he lowers his phone, checks the photograph, and flashes a thumbs-up at her through the terminal window.

A knock at the doorway, and Linda turns to see the redcap peeking inside. “Captain?”

“Yes,” Linda acknowledges, and rises from her seat.

Before long, her first officer has returned, and the boarding time is flashing on the chronometer. Linda feels strangely nervous.

“You okay?” the first officer asks. “You look a little…” she trails off.

Linda shakes her head. “I’m fine, it’s just…” she casts a look out the flightdeck windows. Herc is no longer at his post by the terminal window. Her heart begins to pound.

“He’s…” The first officer ponders a little. “He’s not your dad, right? I forgot. I know you told me earlier.”

“He’s my best friend,” Linda replies automatically. “We haven’t been in a flightdeck together in—years.”

“I see. Well, I’ll just greet passengers outside,” her first officer tells her sympathetically, squeezes outside, then Linda hears her say, “Oh! Welcome onboard, sir.”

“Thank you,” says a voice she would know on any frequency, anywhere in the world, and Linda is immediately at ease. A second later, Herc pokes his head through the door, bracing a hand on the doorway. “Hello there, Captain. May I enter?”

She rises from her seat. “I’m coming, Herc.”

Linda stands at his side once more in the doorway, and he stares all around the A350 flightdeck with an expression of wonder on his face. “Good Lord, Linda, so many screens. How do you manage?”

“You pull the stick for up and push the stick for down,” she replies dead-pan, and Herc lets out a laugh so loud that several flight attendants and boarding passengers look in their direction. “Herc!” she hisses reproachfully.

Still grinning from ear-to-ear, Herc loops an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close to him. “Yes, Linda?” he asks, maddeningly innocent, and she rolls her eyes.

“Come on, let’s sit,” she says, and begins to lead him further into the flightdeck.

“You’re on the wrong side,” he points out, and Linda realizes she’s automatically drifted to the right seat and her first officer’s already-configured chair.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are, Captain Fairbairn,” Herc returns with the patience of a primary school teacher.

“I want you on my left.” She knows she sounds like a child insisting it, though she’s got several strands of silver running through her hair and glasses on her nose, but—she knows also that having Herc on her right in a flightdeck like this is not what she had envisioned when dreaming of bringing him up here. “Please,” she adds, as an afterthought.

He cracks a smile. “How very silly,” he says, and it doesn’t sound patronizing from him—it’s got all the affection she remembers. Yet he sits anyway, situates himself in the captain’s seat next to her, and—

The technology is so different from the ancient A320s of Caledonian, and yet—the flightdeck is so familiar.

Like they never left it.

Herc looks across the console at her with a breathtaking smile, and it’s like he’s de-aged about twenty years—maybe more.

“We should have done this,” he says softly, and despite the smile on his face, his eyes are suspiciously bright. “Even if it had been just once.”

“Done what?”

“Long-haul.” He casts a glance over the screens, the evolution of the same instruments that must have guided him for longer than Linda has existed. “Linda, I’ve half a mind to steal this plane,” he changes the subject.

She laughs at him, knowing that regret and Herc are two things that she’s careful not to let mix too much, and goes along with it. “I’m sure you could figure it out if I set it up on the ground,” she says lightly. “If I weren’t concerned about such things as, you know, keeping my job.”

“True, that is of slight importance.” Herc looks behind him, then curls his left hand around the sidestick lightly. The sight sends a wave of nostalgia through Linda—he could very well have been preparing to lift the nose at V1 on Bristol’s runway. “In any case…” He lets go of the sidestick, turns to Linda, and smiles gently at her. A single tear is tracing the groove of a smile line. “I wouldn’t steal an A350 with anyone else in the flightdeck but you.”

Linda reaches across the flightdeck, brushes the tear away with her thumb, and rests her hand on his face.

He leans into it, still smiling.

[stark-ironman]

A/N: Hello everyone. This will be my first post on this account. I hope you enjoy because I spent days on this.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: talks of kidnapping, crying and proposal

Tony Stark has been taken hostage by enemy forces.

Those words have been on the TV screen all morning. You've been sitting there on the couch with Happy, using Tony's laptop and working tirelessly to try and find him. You called Rhodes earlier in the week to tell him where Tony's cell phone location last showed up but nothing was there except for wreckage.

Not one sign of your multi-billionaire boyfriend. 

"He's going to turn up. We both know it." Happy tries to reassure. "Until he's back in my arms, I'm not going to stop looking." You say standing up and walking down the steps to his work area.

"Jarvis, let me see the map of Mr. Starks last known location." You say. Jarvis brings it up and you make the scene bigger, looking for some sort of clue to help you. A deep huff falls from your lips, scratching at your eyebrow as you search. 

Hours pass for what feels like eternity, nothing comes up. You have looked all over the map several times and nothing has popped up yet but you haven't lost hope.

"Jarvis, is there any new updates on Mr. Stark?" You ask. "I'll turn on the TV,  ma'am. There's something going on that might be in relations to Mr. Stark." He says turning the TV on. You look at the TV confused, watching as you see a war base on fire.

"Captain Rhodes is trying to get in touch with you. Shall I let him through?" Jarvis asks. "Yes, thank you Jarvis." You say as you answer the phone.

"We found him and we're bringing him home as we speak."

------

Happy drove you to the airport as soon as he received word that the plane was fixing to land. You watch as the door opens, seeing Tony sitting there in a wheelchair. He stands up and walks towards you,  smiling softly when you run up and hug him.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" His smooth voice fills your ears, a small smirk on his face. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, kissing him softly. "Don't scare me like that again." You tell him with tears. "I don't plan on leaving you again." He whispers, kissing you again.

"Happy, take me to get a cheeseburger." Tony states as he opens the car door open for you. Once settled, Tony starts rubbing your thigh. "So, I heard my girl took charge of everything while I was gone. Must have been a sight to see." He smirks as his hand moves up on your thigh.

You smack his hand away and notice a little look on his face but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he looks out the window  as he grips your hand tighter.

The rest of the drive is sat in silence and you worry that you've upset Tony, noticing he's zoned out pretty bad. "Take the rest of the day off, Happy. We're not going anywhere and if we do then I'll call." Tony states as he grabs the bags of food and helps you out, leading you inside.

"Jarvis, lock the doors and turn off the phones. I don't want anybody to disturb us until I'm ready." He calls out. You help set the food on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch. Tony kneels on the floor in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his head buries itself in your neck.

Soft whimpers fill the house and you feel your neck getting wet. "It's okay, baby." You whisper. "I was so scared, sweetheart. The whole way home I was scared shitlesss that someone was going to  attack again." He cries.

Your heart shatters hearing his confession and you start playing with his curls to try to calm him down. "Please don't ever leave me, sweetheart. I need you in my life for as long as I live." He whimpers. "Baby, you will never be able to get rid of me." You push him back, kissing him softly.

Tony stands up, grabbing your hand and leads you down to his workshop. "I was going to do this before I left but I didn't have the correct amount of time.." He trails while looking around and grabs a box off of one of the top shelves.

"I had to hide it so you wouldn't find it but I spent many months learning how to make this so you would have a perfect one." He continues and smiles when he sees your confused face. Tony gets on one knee in front of you and brings up a custom made box.

"I want to marry you, sweetheart. You have been my rock through everything in my life and I know I've taken you for granted at times but honey, I have always been all yours just like you've been all mine. Nobody can take that away from either of us. So please, marry me." He says, looking at you with hopeful eyes. 

"You know I will, Tone." You smile and he picks you up, kissing you deeply. "I love you until my last breath, sweetheart."

[ari-the-silly]

La anul si la multi ani??? (The next year and many more years)

NUH UH. LA ANUL SI LA MULTI BANI (the next year and much more money)

I AM THE MONEY. WHAT YOU ISSSS IS WHAT YOU GOOOT AND I AM THE MONEYYY TAKE A LOOK BABY HES THE REAL KACHING LOUNCHING WITH MY HOMIES FRIDAY NIGHR SCENE THE PLAYSTATIONS UP ON MY 60 INCH SCREEN MCNUGGETS IN THE BAG CRYSTALS ON TOP NEW TOOTHBRUSH FROM TIFFANYS STILL IN THE BUBBLE WRAP TRACK LIGHTS ARE GLOWING LIKE JUCLEAR SCIENCES SPARKLE ALL OVER MY STAINLESS STEEL APPLIANCES IM SHINIBG LIKE MIGHTUS IM THE KING OF KACHING EVERYTHING I TOUCH GOES BLING BLING OH MY LIFE IS AWESOOMEEEE THIS BEAT IS AWESOMEEEEE ROBOTS ARE WESOME TAKE A LOOK BABY HES THE REAL KACHING AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN MY LIFE IS AWESOMEEEE THIS HOOK IS AESOMEEE ROBOTS ARE WESOME TURURURURURURURUURURR NOW WERE ROLLING IN THE CITY WITH THE PUMPED UP BASS BLUE LIGHTS GLOWING THE VIPERS ON MY FACE WE PASS AROUND THE CRONIC??? WE PARTY ALL NIGHT WE START TO GET THE MINCHHIES SO WE STOP FOR A BITE CRUISING TO THE (????) OF THE HARDROCK CAFE HERE COMES THE HOTTIES HERE COMSS THE VALLET FROM OF THE LINE WE DONT NEED ID YOUR USUAL TABLE SIR?? IN THE VIP! OH MY LIFE IN AWEEESOME THIS BEAT IS AESOOME ROBOTS ARE WESOME TAKE A LOOK BABY HES THE REAL KACHING AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN MY LIFE SI AESOME AUTOTUNE IS AWESOOOOOOMEEEE 0101011 TURURURURURURURURURURUR ITS TIME TO START A PATTY BUT THERE ANIT NO PARTY HERE SO WE GOT TO TAKE A RIDE IN MY BRAND NEW LERIGET FEELING HOMESICK FOR MY HOMIES IN THE UKRAINE LANDING IN KIEV BEFORE WE FINISH OFF THE CHAMPAGME ROLL TO THE CLUB WHERE THE RICH KIDS GOO THE EURO TRASH BITCHES ALL CHECKING OUT MYY FLOW ALL KINDS OF HOTTIES FROM ALL AROUND THE WORLS THEN I FEEL THIS PAIR OF EYES,,, THEN I SEE THIS GIIIIIJJJJJRLLLL SHAWTYY

[stardustshelb]

"Strawberry" Part Five

TW: Language

Word count: 7,999

Chapter Thirteen

I finished applying my lipstick in the bathroom mirror when I heard my phone vibrate on the counter. My heart fluttered when I thought it’d be Josh telling me they were on their way, but instead it was Kenneth’s name on the screen. My heart sank.

Kenneth: “Are you alive? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

Me: “All good here! How is everything with you?”

Kenneth: “Good. I’m ready for you to come home.” I hesitated on what to reply back to his message. I was so not ready to come home, but I knew my return was inevitable. 

Me: “Only two more days.” I replied with a sad face emoji. Of course, I was sad because I only had two days left of freedom, fun, and Joshua. I wasn’t ready to return back to the same loneliness I feel in Oklahoma. Just then, I got a notification of a text from Plagiarism.

Plagiarism: “We are heading your way now.” I smiled and held the message down to “love” it before taking one final look in the mirror. I was so nervous to meet his friends, well–brothers–but I was even more nervous about how the girls were going to behave tonight. I turned the bathroom light off, stuck my phone in my jean backpocket, and made my way into the living room where the girls were all hanging out. Despite the fact that we were literally staying home for the evening, that didn’t stop Abby from wearing a multi-color sequin mini dress that was so tight I wondered how she was able to sit down, let alone breathe. I opted for a more comfortable approach in my ripped jeans and cropped t-shirt. Brooke was in a casual maxi dress; Maddie was in jean shorts and a Nashville t-shirt that she must have picked up on this trip. Riley was back in her “BRIDE” white velour tracksuit from her travel day. When she put it on, she exclaimed, “Even though we’re staying in, it’s still my bachelorette party. I have to dress the part!” We definitely didn’t look like we were all dressed for the same occasion. 

“What time will the pizzas be here?” Madie asked.

“In about an hour,” Abby replied. Of course she volunteered to buy all of the pizzas and refused to accept Venmo from us. She had an unlimited budget and I wasn’t going to argue because it kept me from spending the last of my money. I guess she wanted to be Saint Domino’s for the night.

I did one last walk through the Airbnb to make sure everything was perfect for the boys’ arrival. There wasn’t going to be enough room at the dining room table for all of us, so we took the pillows and blankets from our bedrooms to make the living room floor more comfortable as a hangout spot. The deck of cards for our drinking games and coasters for our glasses were neatly displayed on top of the living room table. I still couldn’t fight the anxious feeling building inside of me. My mind was racing with hypothetical, worst case scenarios. I definitely was going to need to take a shot or something as soon as the boys got here with the booze. I just needed to relax.

“Welcome, come in!” I said nervously as I opened the door for our secretly famous guests. Once I saw Josh’s smile, a calmness washed over me. The effect he has on me can only be credited to magic. He walked past me and gently rubbed his hand on my shoulder as a subtle greeting. Even with just his light touch, electricity surged through my veins. I got a whiff of his cologne and almost floated through the air like you see in the cartoons. In his arms were brown paper sacks no doubt full of bottles of the poison he picked for tonight. Behind him followed the three best looking guys I have ever seen. Seriously, why was every member in this band so damn good looking? Were they even real? I tried not to appear star-struck as Jake, Danny, and Sam entered the Airbnb–each of them also held brown paper sacks. It looked like there was enough alcohol between them to host a big frat party. 

Josh pulled my arm close to him and said, “Guys, this is Strawberry.” I immediately felt my face get hot. It just hit me that we’d been playing the no-name-game and now I was going to have to continue it with an audience of people who weren’t in on the joke.

“Who the hell is Strawberry?” I heard Abby’s voice ask. Shit.

“It’s a nickname,” I said, trying to think of what to say.

“Well, obviously because your name is—” Abby was saying.

“I call her Strawberry,” Josh interrupted. 

“Nice to meet you, Strawberry. I’m Sam,” he said as he pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and felt him squeeze me tight. I liked him.

“I’m Danny,” he said, giving a nervous wave to the group accompanied by a soft smile. 

“Jake,” he said with no smile. I remembered his serious disposition when he was the assistant on the plane. I got the vibe that he didn’t want to be here, but maybe he was just hard to read.

I took a turn introducing all of the girls one-by-one to the guys. Oddly enough, even when I said each of their names, Josh never looked at anyone but me. I tried to act like I didn’t notice his stare, but I could feel my knees getting weaker by the second. 

“I want to take a shot with the bride!” Sammy yelled as he made his way to the kitchen with his arms full of bags. I grabbed Riley’s hand and pulled her along behind him. The guys followed suit and started unpacking their purchases. Bottles of beer, wine, and liquor started to plague the countertop space. 

“We brought a little of everything because we weren’t sure what you guys would like,” Danny said with an adorable smile.

“I like it all,” Abby said as she scooted closer to him. I watched Danny’s nervous eyes flash to the counter as he slowly shifted his body away from hers. Yep, I liked him too.

“And for a little taste of home,” Josh said as he started to pull out a bottle with a label that I knew all too well. My eyes got wide as I recognized the bottle of bourbon in his hands. Riley immediately turned her neck to look at me; her shocked expression matched mine.

“Uh, not big bourbon fans?” Josh asked nervously when he noticed our reactions.

“How did you find Oklahoma bourbon in Tennessee?” I asked.

“This is the reason why we were in Oklahoma,” Josh said, tilting the bottle in the air.

“I’m not following,” I said.

“The business meeting in OKC was with this brand. We are partnering with them,” Jake interrupted.

“What do you guys do?” Maddie asked. I couldn’t focus on the elaborate lies that the boys were now feeding the girls about their made-up professions because I could only focus on the bottle of bourbon in Josh’s hands. The same brand of bourbon that sits on my shelves back home. The same brand of bourbon that Kenneth drinks. The same brand of bourbon that pays my bills. The same brand of bourbon that shares what is supposed to be my future last name. The same brand of bourbon that Kenneth’s family business makes. What the actual fuck was going on?

“Can I see you for a  minute?” I heard as I felt Riley squeeze on my arm which pulled me from my thoughts. I followed her out of the kitchen and into the empty dining room.

“Does he know that’s Kenneth’s bourbon?” Riley asked in a whisper.

“Of course not!” I said in almost a yell. I couldn’t whisper even if I had wanted to. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

“How? Why? What?” Riley asked, throwing her hands up frantically.

“I can’t tell him he’s about to do business with my–!” I hissed.

“Is everything ok?” I heard Josh’s voice suddenly ring through my ears.

“Yes,” I heard Riley say as she turned me around to face him. “We just weren’t sure how our local brand of bourbon would make its way to you,” she added.

“We wanted to partner with a US-based distillery and this is our favorite brand of bourbon. We tried it once on tour and it changed our lives. We are in the works of collaborating with the company to become ambassadors for their brand,” he said.

“So this means you’ll be in Oklahoma again?” I asked.

“Yes, it means we’ll make a couple more trips,” he said with a smirk. I felt Riley squeeze my arm again. 

“Well, I don’t know about Strawberry here, but I am not a bourbon fan. I’m going to find Sam who owes me that shot,” Riley said as she made her way out of the room to leave us alone. She turned around to look at me over Josh’s shoulder to mouth “Oh my God” before exiting the room. 

“When will you be back in Oklahoma?” I asked. Josh pulled out his phone to check his calendar. I studied his face as his eyes moved through the many dates on his app. No doubt that he was always busy. 

“We are set to come back at the end of next month,” he said, double-checking his dates. 

“Were you going to tell me?” I said.

“I wasn’t sure,” Josh admitted. My heart sank.

“You were going to fly back to Oklahoma City, be less than two hours from me, and keep that a secret?” I asked, trying to mask the hurt in my voice.

“I don’t want to mess up anything in your personal life. It’s different being here,” he said.

“So you planned to cut ties with me the second I flew home,” I said. 

“That’s not fair,” Josh said. Before I could respond, I jumped at the sound of glass shattering from the kitchen. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Maddie yelled. I pushed my way past Josh and headed into the kitchen to find a busted bottle of what smelled like tequila all over the kitchen floor. Pieces of glass and liquid were everywhere. 

“Nobody move!” I commanded as I made my way to the storage closet in the hallway to grab towels and a broom. The last thing I wanted was to make an ER trip because someone had cut their foot open. When I returned back to the scene of the accident, Josh was kneeling on the ground and had already started picking up the large pieces of glass.

“Good thing we brought another bottle of tequila,” Sam said, lightening the mood.

“I’m so sorry,” Maddie said again.

“It’s really ok,” Sam said as he stuck a lime wedge in his mouth to give her a fruit-filled smile. I liked how he was able to dust things off as no big deal. I wished I could be more like that.

“Fuck,” I heard Josh say. I looked down to see he had accidentally cut the palm of his hand while collecting the glass.

“Let me clean this up,” Riley said as she grabbed the towels and broom from me. “There’s a first aid kit under the sink in the guest bathroom. Go make sure Josh is ok,” she said.

“I’m a nurse!” Brooke chimed in. “I can doctor him up,” she said.

“Just rub some tequila on it. You’ll be fine,” Jake said with a laugh. It was the first time I had seen him smile. Like his brother, he had a radiant smile. 

“I’m fine,” Josh added as he stood up and made his way to the sink. I watched him wash the blood from his palm and it made me feel nauseated. Even though I was a teacher who had witnessed many nosebleeds in my classroom, dealing with blood was not in my wheelhouse. I left the room to grab the first aid kit for Brooke to mend Josh’s hand. Or, maybe I left the room to get away from the sight of blood. Both were true in this case. 

“Party foul!” Abby yelled from the living room. I rolled my eyes as I walked past her and made my way into the bathroom. I got on my knees and opened the cabinet under the sink to look for the kit that Riley claimed was there. I saw fresh linen towels, bathroom cleaning supplies, but no first aid kit. I kept looking when I jumped at the sound of his voice.

“I really am fine,” he said. I stopped my search and looked up to see him standing in the doorway. He had a wad of paper towels clenched in a tight fist. 

“Riley said it was in here,” I said, turning my attention back to the cabinet. Josh stepped more into the bathroom and shut the door, closing the two of us inside. I tried to ignore his presence and focus on the task of finding the kit. Alas, I spotted a small white container with a red cross on the lid.

“Voila!” I said holding it up. I opened the plastic box to sift through gauze, bandages, and medical tape. “Let me get Brooke,” I said as I started to stand up.

“I don’t need a nurse to put on a bandaid,” he said laughing.

“Well, I don’t do blood, so she’s your only hope,” I said, shoving the box to him.

“I feel like you’re lying just because you don’t want to talk to me,” he said, blocking the doorway.

“Well, I don’t particularly feel like talking to you at the moment, but no, I will truly get sick if I see your blood,” I said. He kept the paper towel clenched in his fist and put his wounded hand behind his back away from my line of vision. 

“I don’t understand why you’re mad at me,” he said. I honestly didn’t understand either but I couldn’t let him know that. He had made it clear to me already that this was nothing serious. I was the one floundering about in a dream world that was only going to end in heartbreak for me. I understood that; I just didn’t want to accept it.

“I’m not mad. I guess I was just hurt that you didn’t want to see me again,” I said, shifting my feet.

“Oh, believe me. I do want to see you, but I don’t want to cause a disturbance in your personal life. You have a fiancé, a job, a family, really just a whole other life in Oklahoma. I don’t fit in that puzzle,” he said. I wished he wanted to. I’d create a whole new puzzle to make his piece fit with mine.

“You’re right,” I said with a sigh. 

“Let’s just enjoy the time we have left, ok?” He said as he closed the space between us. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes because I didn’t want my sadness to show. 

“I better get back out there,” I said.

“What’s the rush?” He asked, moving closer to me so that our bodies were mere centimeters apart. His enticing scent consumed me. 

“I’m not hooking up with you in the bathroom while your hand is bleeding,” I said with a laugh.

“Can you at least kiss me in the bathroom while my hand is bleeding?” He asked. I finally met his eyes. He was smiling and I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him now. I felt the need to protect my feelings.

“We’ll see,” I said as I moved around him, ignoring his advances. I put my hand on the doorknob when I felt his arm wrap around my waist.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me to him. I tried to stand firm but my subconscious craved his touch. As if I had no control over my body, I allowed him to hold me close. I took a deep breath and felt myself melt into him. This intimacy, this closeness, this connection… How could he not feel it too?

“I have to pee!” Abby’s voice rang from the other side of the bathroom door. I let go of Josh and looked up into his eyes. They appeared darker than normal. Like he felt conflicted by something but wouldn’t dare to admit. 

“Coming!” I said, pulling myself away from his hold. At that moment, it was as if I pulled a part of him away with me. I watched his adam's apple move as he swallowed his unspoken sadness.

Chapter Fourteen

“Never have I ever been arrested,” Danny said with a smirk. We all looked around the circle to see Sam was the only one to put a finger down. 

“Oh shit!” Riley yelled out. “Take a drink!” Sam flipped Danny off as he took a sip from his bottle of tequila. I was enjoying my second glass of wine while sitting between my best friend and my lover. We had polished off the pizza that Abby ordered and now we were playing our first round of drinking games. Life was good on the living room floor. 

“Never have I ever had a sibling,” Riley voiced when it was her turn. 

“Nice,” I said as we touched our glasses like we were making a toast. Being only children was something we had in common and was one of the reasons we got along so well. We were each other’s chosen sisters. Everyone else in the room put a finger down. I had the most fingers still up which was only an embarrassing indicator that everyone else had lived more fulfilling lives than me. It was now my turn and I was trying to think of something that would wipe people out.

“Never have I ever been pulled over,” I said. Fingers went down across the room except for Danny and Maddie. “Drink up!” I said as I raised my glass to everyone else.

“Never have I ever gone to college,” Josh said with a shrug. Every girl in the room put a finger down and the guys cheered as we all had to take a drink. 

“Never have I ever been engaged,” Abby said with a tone that I could have slapped her for. It was obviously directed at Riley and me as everyone else in the room was obviously unmarried. Did she pick up on the vibes between Josh and me? What was she trying to prove? Riley and I both put a finger down and in that moment, I realized I wasn’t even wearing my ring. 

“Ok, that was targeted,” Riley said. “Helloooo? It’s my fucking bachelorette weekend!” Everyone laughed but I noticed a rigid shift in Jake’s body language when I put my finger down. He was staring at Josh with a look I couldn’t quite place, but he looked pissed. Sam had one finger left and the look on Jake’s face showed he was done playing the game.

“Never have I ever eaten tofu,” Jake said with a raise of his glass in Sam’s direction.

“Ah, man, come on!” Sam said as he put his last finger down. 

“Loserrrrrrr!” Abby drunkenly yelled out. “Chug! Chug! Chug!” She began to chant. While everyone in the room watched Sam take a shot straight from the bottle, I saw Jake get up from the circle and make his way into the kitchen. Josh gave me a wink before he jumped up to follow his brother. I wondered what discussion was about to take place; what I would have given to be a fly on the wall to have heard it. 

When they made their way back into the room to join the party, I could sense something was off with Josh. They hadn’t been gone very long, and I’m sure nobody even noticed their absence because Sam was now shuffling the cards for a new game. Josh noticed my empty wine glass and grabbed it without saying a word. He returned back to the kitchen and I hesitated on whether I should have followed him or not. But the stern look on Jake’s face was almost like a warning to stay away from Josh, so I stayed put. 

“Everyone needs six cards,” Sam stated as he started to deal out the deck of cards. Josh returned with a now full glass of wine for me and I accepted it. I tried to read his face but it was impossible. He took his seat next to me and I reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled it away before I had the opportunity. He reached out for his cards from Sam and then I did the same. 

I couldn’t focus on the rules of the game that Sam was half-ass explaining. I was too fixated on the sudden change in Josh’s mood after his talk with Jake. Something was clearly off about him and I wanted to know what was going on. 

“Did you get that?” Riley leaned over and asked me.

“Huh?” I said.

“Were you listening to the rules?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. That wasn’t even close to being true. I had no idea what game we were playing because I wasn’t paying any attention.

“Ok… Then why are you still holding all six of your cards?” Riley asked with a puzzled expression. I looked around to see everyone had laid one of their cards face down in front of them. I had no idea what the point of the game was, so I just pulled one from my pile and placed it in front of me.

“Ok, one… two… flip!” Sam yelled. All at once, everyone turned their chosen card over. I followed suit even though I didn’t have a clue as to what game we were playing. 

“Strawberry, why the hell did you play two of hearts?” Danny asked while laughing.

“I–I don’t know,” I said, visibly confused

“Ok, you obviously lost. Drink!” Abby yelled. I still had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to be doing, so I just drank my wine.

Josh leaned over to whisper in my ear, “You were supposed to play your highest card that round.” Wonderful. I probably looked dumb as hell.

All of a sudden, Sam jumped up and started singing, “Two of hearts, two hearts that beat as one. Two of hearts…” into his bottle of tequila now disguised as a makeshift microphone. And like two peas in a pod, Danny jumped up to dance with him singing background vocals: “I need you, I need you.” The two of them definitely stole everyone’s attention as they performed the 80’s hit in the living room. It was nice to see both Josh and Jake smiling again. I wished Danny and Sam knew how grateful I was for them at this moment. They brought a kind of energy that I wished I could bottle up and harvest as my own.

The boys’ performance distracted everyone from the card game that I never actually learned the rules to, so I could tell the night was winding down. I was actually feeling a little tired and I just wanted to be alone with Josh. I could tell he was still a little off compared to his normal self, but I decided to wait until we were alone to talk to him about it.

I finished my glass of wine and then started cleaning up the Airbnb while everyone was hanging out in the living room. Everybody seemed to have a good buzz; I was thankful nobody got absolutely shitfaced. Nothing ruins a party quicker than someone who needs a babysitter, bodyguard, or both. I made my way into the kitchen to start throwing away empty pizza boxes and putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher. We didn’t even touch half of the alcohol that the boys brought. The bottle of the Oklahoma bourbon sat half empty on the counter. I stared at it wondering if or how I could tell Josh that they were about to do business with my fiancé, or maybe soon-to-be ex-fiancé. I knew my third glass of wine had me feeling bold when the possibility of me leaving Kenneth crossed my mind.

“Need a hand?” I heard a somewhat unfamiliar voice ask. I turned to see Jake standing in the entryway of the kitchen. 

“Sure, thank you,” I said, trying not to look too surprised to see him. I continued to load the dishwasher with dirty plates and glasses. He walked into the kitchen and stood next to me.

“Here,” he said as he handed me his empty glass. I recognized the smell of the bourbon immediately.

“Thanks,” I said as I grabbed it. I could tell he was wanting to talk to me because he wasn’t actually doing any cleaning. I held my breath until he finally had the courage to speak.

“I know you don’t know me, but I know my brother. He’s the most important person in my life. So what I’m about to say to you, I ask that you keep that in mind,” he started. I continued holding my breath because I didn’t like the sound of where this was going. “I think you two don’t need to spend the night together.”

I didn’t have any more dirty dishes left in the sink to place in the dishwasher, but I felt like I needed something to occupy myself while I tried to process Jake’s words. I started twisting all of the caps on the bottles of liquor and placing them back in the brown paper bags. He continued to speak, “It’s not a good idea for either of you, especially given your situation. I know Josh’s views on marriage, and while I don’t share those same views, I think he should respect other people’s commitments.”

“I’m not married,” I finally spoke.

“No, but you are engaged to be,” he added. “And I am not judging you at all. I don’t know you or your situation, but I do know my brother. I’m just afraid he’s going to get hurt.” I was shocked at this admission. Jake thought Josh was the one going to be hurt? He had no clue. Josh was the one keeping his guard up and setting clear boundaries with me. It was me who was practically sick over the idea of never seeing him again in a mere couple of days. 

“I really appreciate you talking to me about this. I can see how much you care about him,” I began. “Your brother has taught me more about myself in these past few days than I would have ever learned on my own. And while I dread going back home and saying goodbye to him, I am thankful for the time that we have had together. I value your opinion, but I’m not ready to cut that time short.”

“And you don’t have to,” Josh’s voice interrupted. I quickly turned around to find that he had been eavesdropping on my conversation with Jake. I wondered how much he had heard. 

“I was just relaying to Strawberry what I had already talked with you about,” Jake said while holding his arms up like he had been caught doing something illegal. 

“We are both consenting adults capable of making our own decisions,” Josh said.

“I understand that. I just wanted you both to hear where I’m coming from,” Jake added. He started collecting the unopened beer bottles from the fridge and placing them back in the empty cardboard drink carriers. I dried my hands and left the two of them alone to finish their conversation, even though it seemed like Josh didn’t want to be there. I walked back into the living room to find Abby on her phone, Maddie and Danny were deep into a conversation about music, Riley was braiding Brooke’s hair, and Sam was picking up the playing cards off the floor. 

“I think Jake packed up all of the booze, so I guess the party's over,” I said with a nervous laugh. 

“Are y’all good to drive?” Riley asked.

“Y’all,” Sam imitated her southern accent with a laugh. “Sorry,” he shyly added when he realized what he had just done.

“Yes, I am good to drive,” Danny added, giving a somewhat stern look to Sam.

“Josh is staying here, right?” Sam asked.

“Why would Josh stay here?” Abby asked. I immediately looked at Sam to communicate that he had just fucked up.

“I joke, I joke,” Sam added with a wild laugh. I glanced at Riley who shot me a confused look. I could tell she was trying to think of a way to cover for Sam’s blunder but was drawing a blank.

“Do you need us to take the trash out?” Danny asked while standing up.

“No, I think we’re good. We appreciate it though,” Maddie said. I could see she was blushing. It was easy to see why. Danny was one of the most handsome men I had ever laid eyes on. He could have been a Greek God in a past life. I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I grabbed it to read a text from Plagiarism: “I’m going to help load the car up and I’ll come back inside when everyone is gone.” 

“You guys ready?” Jake said as he entered the living room. Josh was standing behind him carrying two sacks of alcohol. I subtly waved my phone at him to indicate that I had seen his text. Now we just had to play the waiting game until the girls went to bed which hopefully would be soon. I was sick of playing games–figuratively and literally.

Chapter Fifteen

After what felt like waiting for an eternity but was probably closer to 30 minutes, I texted Josh to let him know it was time for him to come back. I sent “The coast is clear” as I waited for him by the front door. I had to chuckle thinking of his “we are two consenting adults” comment from earlier because we’ve been acting like two teeangers sneaking around every night. It was fun and thrilling in the most ridiculous way possible. Even though we had spent all evening in each other’s presence, I didn’t feel like we had any alone time. I was looking forward to spending the night together with nobody around to interfere. I locked the front door and I reached for his hand. 

“This one is wounded, remember?” Josh said while switching hands so I was now holding the unbandaged one. “I could have bled to death and you wouldn’t have lifted a finger,” he said dramatically as he held up his free hand.

“You literally refused help from a medical professional, so your blood is on your hands…Literally,” I said with a laugh. We quietly walked down the hallway until we got to my bedroom. I made sure to be the one to shut the door and lock it so we wouldn’t have any surprise guests again in the morning. 

“Are you and Jake good?” I asked as we sat on the edge of my bed.

“Yes, of course,” he said as he turned his body to face mine.

“I can tell you mean a lot to him. I couldn’t imagine having a twin. Hell, I don’t even know what it’s like to have a sibling!” I said with a shrug. Growing up as an only child wasn’t the worst thing to happen to me, but not having a sibling definitely contributed to the loneliness in which I feel now. 

“Jake knows me better than anyone, so I will always listen to his guidance. But I also needed him to realize that I am free to make my own choices,” he said as the corners of his mouth turned to smile. I got a flashback to my conversation with Riley from earlier today when we made up. I knew exactly what he meant.

“Did you guys have a good time tonight? It went better than I expected, honestly,” I said.

“Oh yeah, I think so. I mean, I was secretly wishing we would have called it a night hours ago,” he said with a smirk. “I would have rather been with you right here the whole night.” I bit my lip trying to hide my smile. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but our conversation from earlier still lingered in the back of my mind.

“So,” I paused. “This bourbon partnership…”

“Yes?” Josh asked, waiting for me to continue. I wanted to be honest with him but I also didn’t want to interfere with his life more than I already had. He planned never to see me again after I left, so would it even matter to him? 

“I’m very familiar with that brand,” I said while nervously smoothing my hands across the bed.

“Oh? I thought you weren’t much of a bourbon fan?” He said laughing. “You really should give it a try. It’s the best, smoothest one I’ve ever had. It’s why we’re so passionate about collaborating with them.”

“Yeah, I actually–” I began when Josh’s phone started to ring. 

“Who the hell is calling me at one a.m.?” He asked as he reached over to grab his phone off the nightstand. He checked the screen and then whispered, “Sorry, I need to take this.” He jumped up off the bed and made his way to the corner of the room. He was still in earshot, but I didn’t see who had called him. 

“What are you talking about?” Josh asked the mystery caller. I panicked watching him pace back and forth across the front of the room. I could sense something was wrong.

“What TikTok?” He questioned. TikTok? I continued to watch him pace until he stopped and rubbed his hand over his face.

“I mean, we partied with some friends tonight but nobody did anything worth getting upset over,” he said into the phone. I wished I knew what was going on. I was trying to put pieces together but it was difficult with only hearing one part of the conversation. I had the idea to do some investigating myself. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and I opened TikTok. I searched for Greta Van Fleet and scrolled until I could find anything remotely getting upset about at one in the morning. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Josh said with a sigh. “Maybe we can have her take it down.” I watched him as he rubbed the back of his neck. My heart started to race. What was he talking about? Who was he talking about?

“Yeah, it’s always all over Twitter,” Josh said with another deep sigh. I immediately closed out of my TikTok app and opened Twitter to see if I could find what he was talking about. I searched for Greta Van Fleet and my eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing. There was a video of Sam and Danny singing “Two of Hearts” clearly taken in our Airbnb living room from earlier. To make matters worse, you could see me sitting between Riley and Josh in the background for a brief moment. Bewildered, I read several hundred tweets that posted the video or screenshots from it. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. I skimmed through tweets as I felt my blood getting cold. People had screenshotted the glimpse of Riley and me from the video and posted our picture with comments such as, “Who are these bitches?!” and “Anyone know who these girls are?” I started to feel ill as I realized my face was circulating around different forms of social media. 

I racked my brain trying to figure out who posted it because I couldn’t remember anyone being on their phone. I studied the angle and background of the video until it hit me: Abby must have recorded this and posted it. I noticed a TikTok username in the video, so I went back to my TikTok app to search for her account directly. Once I found her profile, I could see this latest video had over 10,000 views yet it hadn’t even been up for two hours. The caption read “Wild night in Nashville with Danny and Sam” and the comments were full of Greta Van Fleet fans clearly losing their shit. There was no way Abby knew who they were, right? 

I wanted to bust up into Abby’s room to kill her, but I figured that would just make things worse being charged with murder and all. I was going to demand that she delete the video, but I knew I would need Riley’s assistance because I doubted Abby would do anything I asked. I jumped up from the bed to go wake Riley up. When I started to make my way out of the room, Josh reached out and grabbed my arm.

“Hey, I gotta go,” he said into the phone. “Yeah, yeah, it will be alright,” he said again before hanging up. I stayed there in his grasp but as soon as he put his phone in his pocket, I started to move again.

“Slow down, where are you going?” Josh asked.

“I’m going to get Riley so she can kick Abby’s ass!” I practically yelled.

“Nobody needs their ass kicked,” Josh said, pulling me close to him.

“Actually, Abby could use a good one,” I said while my face was buried into his chest. “We literally talked about how nobody needed to post on social media before you guys got here.”

“Our management team is mad, but nobody in the band is. Not even Jake, surprisingly,” Josh said with a light laugh. I pulled away from him so I could study his face. 

“What does your team say?” I asked.

“Well, besides the fact that we were clearly hanging out in a living room with random girls, they are most concerned about the bottle of tequila in Sam’s hand,” he said with a shrug.

“What? You guys aren’t allowed to drink on camera or something?” I asked as my eyebrows furrowed.

“No, I believe that ship has sailed,” he said with a laugh. “It’s just we are in the works to launch that bourbon collaboration so now my team is worried about Sam holding a bottle of another brand of alcohol. I think they’re reading too much into it,” Josh said as he rubbed my forearms. Shit, I didn’t even think about that. I wasn’t sure how much detective work their fans would do analyzing the video, but I’m sure the fiancée of the bourbon company’s owner being in the video would be the icing on the cake. If the company even sees the video, I just hope it doesn’t make its way up the chain of command because Kenneth will recognize Riley and me instantly. 

“I need to go talk to Riley,” I said as I started to pull away.

“Wait,” Josh said, not letting me go. 

“Josh, Riley and I are in the background of the video. We need it to be taken down before someone identifies us,” I said. 

“I hate to tell you this, Strawberry, but I’m sure some of our fans already found out your family tree, place of employment, and blood type,” he said with a laugh. “Even if Abby deletes it, the video is online forever.” I wasn’t laughing. Instead, I felt like I was going to puke. With all of my might, I pulled away from Josh’s embrace and marched out the bedroom door to find Riley’s room.

“I’m gonna kill Abby!” I yelled as I entered her bedroom and turned on the lights.

“What the fuck?” Riley yelled as she pulled the covers over her eyes.

“Get the bail money ready because I’m going to jail tonight for kicking Abby’s ass!” I said as I made my way over to her bed with my phone in my hand. I pulled Riley’s covers off of her and shoved my phone in her face. 

“Look at this shit!” I yelled again. I watched Riley’s expression go from confused to enraged as she watched the “Two of Hearts” performance on TikTok. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Abby said through gritted teeth. 

“Josh’s management team called him about it. It’s all over TikTok, Twitter, probably more. I’ve already seen several tweets with screenshots of our faces wanting to know who these bitches are!” I exclaimed.

“Who are these bitches calling a bitch?” Riley asked as she started to get out of bed. I bit my tongue because I was too mad to laugh at her right now.

“I need you to take care of this with Abby because I will kill her,” I said.

“I can’t believe she would do this,” Riley said, making her way to leave the room.

“I can,” I said under my breath. I left Riley’s bedroom to return back to Josh who was waiting in mine. I left the bedroom door open so we could hopefully hear Riley confront Abby. 

“I promise it’s not a big deal,” Josh said while sitting on the bed. 

“It is to me,” I said as I got closer to the doorway to try to hear their conversation better. I was a little annoyed that Josh wasn’t as concerned about the video like I was, but I guess he’s used to his every move being watched and scrutinized by strangers. Surely he remembered what it was like before he was famous. Then again, from the limited research I did on the band, it seemed like this is the life he’s had ever since he was a teenager. I continued to eavesdrop even though it was hard to make out what the girls were saying. Suddenly, I heard the voices getting louder and before I knew it, Abby and Riley were in my doorway.

“What the hell is he still doing here?” Abby asked when she noticed Josh.

“Let’s start with why you posted that TikTok after we talked about not posting on social media tonight,” I responded. I would be damned if I became the one on trial.

“I didn’t think it would turn into what it did. Why didn’t anyone say these guys were–oh, I don’t know–famous?” Abby asked with a mocking tone.

“There are people online trying to figure out Riley’s and my identity right now because of this, Abby!” I exclaimed. 

“I didn’t think it would get more than my usual 100 views. I didn’t know they were famous! How is that my fault?” Abby asked, still refusing to take a sliver of responsibility. I imagined myself punching her in the face. I could feel my nails digging into my palms, so I knew I needed to relax before I did something I would regret.

“It’s your fault because you posted after we asked you not to,” Riley interjected.

“Or is this really because you don’t want people to know about what’s going on here between you two?” Abby asked while waving her finger at Josh and me. 

“Can I speak?” Josh voiced from behind me. I had almost forgotten he was there because I was consumed with my thoughts of strangling Abby. 

“Of course,” Riley said.

“I think everyone needs to take a breath for a moment. Abby, I’m sorry we kept our band a secret. We just wanted to hangout and feel like normal people tonight. It’s not your fault that your video somehow was discovered by our fans and got shared all over the internet. Riley and Strawberry, I’m sorry your picture is now on public display. Our band will post something outrageous tomorrow and it will all be forgotten within 48 hours. You should see some of the shit Sam has saved in the drafts. I promise it will blow over in a day or two,” he said so quietly I could barely hear him. I wanted to kiss him right then and there.

“I did delete the video from TikTok,” Abby said.

“Thank you,” Josh said with a sigh of relief. 

“So you’re not sorry for—” I began to say.

“Let’s all just go to bed and worry about this tomorrow,” Riley said.

“Yeah, I better get going,” Josh said as he stood up. I instantly felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Are you good to walk him out and lock the front door?” Riley asked me. I was trying everything in my power not to burst into tears. 

“Yes,” I said while swallowing the lump in my throat. I watched Abby and Riley leave my bedroom. I stayed turned around with my back to Josh because I didn’t want him to see me cry. Suddenly, I felt his arms wrap around my waist and his chest was against my back. He buried his face into my neck and I lost the battle of holding back my tears. I felt the warm drops of liquid make their way down my cheeks. 

“Why are you leaving?” I asked while my bottom lip quivered. I still had my back to him but I knew that he knew I was crying. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay the night now. Tensions are high. We don’t need Abby getting the wrong idea, and–”

“Fuck Abby!” I said as I released a sob.Yep, he definitely knew I was crying now. 

“I also need to make a couple phone calls to make sure this will all be smoothed over tomorrow–well, today, technically–it’s already after two,” Josh said while his forehead rested on my shoulder. I couldn’t believe our second to last night together was now ruined. I continued to cry as he held me. I felt his lips kiss my neck as he made his way up to my ear.

“Tomorrow night, I am all yours. I promise,” he said in a whisper. I lifted my hands to my face to wipe the tears away. I moved his arms from my waist and headed toward the exit of the bedroom. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you out,” I said, never turning around to see his face.

I laid in bed scrolling through Twitter reading the hundreds of tweets talking about Abby’s video. Even though I felt immense amounts of sadness while I laid in bed alone, I did have to admit that some tweets made me smile. The ones about Sam and Danny especially made me laugh. Some of their fans have quite a sense of humor while some sounded like they needed to talk to a mental health professional. I kept scrolling hoping that my eyelids would get heavy and I could sleep, but I was too stressed out. I got up to get into my medicine bag to take some melatonin. It was nearly three in the morning and I wanted nothing more than to sleep this entire day off. From fighting with Riley, to fighting with Abby, and now Josh changing his mind about staying over, I was so mentally drained. I closed out all of the apps on my phone, put it on DND mode, and flipped it face down on the nightstand. 

I held my pillow tight wishing it were Josh that I was holding right now. I was so tired of crying, but I felt the pillow getting soaked with my tears. I inhaled deep breaths trying to think of anything other than the fact that I would soon be losing him for good. I reminded myself that we still had one more night together, so I tried to cling to that glimmer of hope as I allowed myself to rest.

[thewarriorspecial]

Greenhill Chapter 7

*Archive Edition* Previously only linked to AO3, full work now available under the cut.

Read on AO3

Rating: Teen | Guy Gardner/Kyle Rayner, Hal Jordan, John Stewart, Dinah Lance, Oliver Queen, Wally West, Katma Tui

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

A little something special for @hobicat!

The interpersonal drama continues to unfold at the table and Guy gets his spy gear out.

It's here it's finally here!! I deed it!!

Guy watched as Kyle lowered himself into a seat at the table. Kyle fiddled with the silverware roll, opened it. He pulled out the knife first because of course he did. No surprises tonight, Guy thought as he turned on the recorder he had hidden in his sweater vest. He folded his fingers under his chin as he studied Kyle’s movements scrupulously. He’d play back the audio to listen carefully for any other telling inflections in his speech that he might’ve missed as he professionally navigated the sometimes hostile waters of a coworkers’ night out. I’m in my silver fox James Bond era, Guy smiled to himself. 

Kyle fiddled with the butter knife as he thought both of his painting knife at home where he’d be far more comfortable and also of the fact that for many years his mother forbade him using an actual knife at the table after too many dinner theater tragedies. Kyle had learned early in his life that he did not possess the full body dexterity to become an actual fruit ninja and that was not an actual job. Kyle faked a bright smile at his quiet coworkers. What have I gotten myself into, he thought 

“So,” Carol said, finally breaking the silence, “Not a vampire fan, John?”

“Ah, no. Just not my thing. Too much D&D in the past, I guess.” John replied with a shrug.

“Paladin?” Guy asked.

“Always.” John answered.

“Knew it.” Guy said with great conviction, banging his fist on the table. He’d have all his coworkers figured out by the end of the night.

“What exactly is D&D, anyways?” Carol asked.

Hal gently touched the place where his glasses used to rest, and then suavely pushed his bangs out of his face, “Well, it’s a tabletop role-playing game, or TTRPG for short—“

Ah, fuck. Here we go, Guy thought with a fake smile as he started looking around for the waiter.  As his eyes scanned the area, he caught Kyle returning the same already-tired smile. He liked the kid more by the minute. Shame he was a criminal. Which was also, admittedly, kinda hot.

A young girl with multi-colored hair and facial piercings greets their table with exuberant friendliness. She talks extensively with John and Carol. Guy knows her face but can’t think of her name. She was likely an upperclassman, then. The trio nattered on, unpressed for time as Guy’s knuckles whitened on the back of the empty chair next to him. 

Kyle pulled out his phone and started texting someone. Guy could almost read the texts in the mirrored lampshade behind him. He cursed his old crusty eyes and wondered if he could somehow use the selfie stick to get a good look at the screen without being too obvious. He reached into his pocket and slowly, obviously pulled the thing out. As curious eyes fell on him, he pretended to scratch his back with it, “Carry on. Just…itchin’” Guy said with a weak laugh. As the chatter—which is to say info-dump via Hal—carried on, Guy put on a show of seeming to examine the selfie stick with great concern. He held it up in the air, trying to find an angle that would allow him to see what Kyle was typing. 

Unfortunately, the support of the selfie stick was painted a dark color and even less reflective than the lampshade. To Guy’s cloudy eyes, it appeared that the letters WOWanBAB were in the text bar at the top of Kyle’s screen. If the text is mirrored that means it’s upside down! Guy rationalized. As his brain made the Windows fail sound he thought, Mom and Dad?! But aren’t they…? Is it someone else’s Mom and Dad? Is he seeing someone?! Fuck! Not that it mattered because Kyle was a criminal. And this investigation was absolutely about protecting the students. From this dangerous, hot, bad criminal man. 

“Ow! What?!” Guy exclaimed suddenly, again interrupting Hal’s attempt to woo Carol with his knowledge of emotionally mature Dungeon Mastering. 

“Tst!” John made the sharp sound as he kicked Guy’s foot under the able a second time. 

“What?” Guy stage whispered.

You know what. Stop it, said John’s Eyebrow of Paternal Disappointment (emotional damage +5)

“So issat like, your mom, or—“ Guy asked, impatiently waving his hands towards Kyle’s phone, hoping to get the conversation back on track and away from Nerds and Virgins or whatever.

“Oh,” Kyle smiled sadly, “No. No my mother passed away.”

Guy made a noise somewhere between choking on a chicken bone and being hit by a truck. John’s lips pressed together as he tucked his chin to his chest and raised both of his disappointed eyebrows even higher. Now look what you’ve done.

“Ow!” Guy exclaimed as a flank attack struck from Hal’s side of the table. 

“Its okay! Really!” Kyle raised his hands in supplication, “It was a long time ago. I’m fine.”

“Hardly appropriate dinner conversation,” Hal said.

“Ooh, what’s inappropriate?” Their server reappeared, a full tray of their orders perched over her shoulder.

“Well, Guy’s put his foot in his mouth I think,” Carol offered.

“He went and asked about poor Kyle’s dead mother!” Hal was offended.

“It’s okay, really. I brought it up!”

“Yeah he brought it up!”

“Oof,” said their server as she quietly passed out their plates.

“He brought—! Alan. How you been? You got anything you wanna add, here?”

“Not at all,” Alan said, bringing his drink to his lips and taking a long, luxurious sip. “I’m enjoying watching you fine, young people exercise your conflict resolution skills.”

“Guy’s could use a little work,” Hal snipped.

Guy’s ears turned as red as his hair as he folded the selfie stick back to pocket size and returned it to his secret spy pocket. Mission Failed, clearly.

“It’s okay, honest. I don’t get to talk about her much. Most people are too afraid to ask.” Kyle rested his warm hand over Guy’s sweaty knuckles. The Defensive Debuff hit home as Guy began to fully blush and sweat. He whipped his gaze over to John, his rock, who rolled a nat twenty on the second Eyebrow attack. Critical damage. Guy swallowed heavily, mouth dry, speechless. He should’ve never multi-classed into Rogue. “My mom was really cool. I miss her every day,” Kyle continued. He pulled his hand back to brush his hair behind his ear, “I wish you could’ve had the chance to meet her.” Kyle looks down for a moment and something else bumps Guy under the table, but pain-free this time. Kyle’s knee. Kyle’s knee. Kyle’s knee. When Kyle’s big, sad brown eyes find their way back to Guy’s it’s direct Constitution damage. Guy wants to wrap him in a blanket and drive him home. “I was just texting Wally. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s on me, buddy.” Guy stammered. He dearly wished he had his Oakleys to hide behind. “My bad. We still cool?”

“Of course.” Kyle’s smile is bright and devastating. Guy wonders if he’s the kind of monster that sparkles in the sunlight. Maybe it’ll all be okay? Just a little peril?

Everyone resumed eating and Hal resumed telling the Tale of Games Past That No One Asked About. Carol’s smile is thinly polite. Hal barreled on in his futile attempt to make her laugh or maybe even impress her. He switched tracks, insisting on the Much Cooler Time He Was One Of The Knights At The Renaissance Festival. This captured her interest but not for the reason he had hoped. After all these years Hal remained unable to discern actual interest from confused horror.

“Wow,” said Carol, “That’s crazy.”

“So,” Kyle said softly to Alan, “History, right?”

“Unfortunately,” Alan grumbled as he took full advantage of Guy’s stun-lock to continue pilfering fries from his plate. 

“Alan’s been teaching for us since the school opened,” John offered, “Anyone could understand he’s a little tired or bored maybe?”

“I’m just old.”

“Maybe you can find a new way to present the material? Or tread new tracks so to speak? Novelty really keeps kids invested.” Kyle beamed with his idea.

Guy tried not to melt. He loved the kid’s enthusiasm.

“Kyle, it’s History. It’s not new.”

“Maybe you could use a little somethin’ new, pops. Might put some spring in your step,” said Guy.

“It won’t.”

“With respect,” Kyle began carefully, “You can’t possibly know everything there is to know about your subject.”

“I do. I was there. I remember.”

“You’re not…that old?” John wondered.

“The things I remember would curl your back hair, boy.”

Oh no, the warning bells went off in John’s mind, not the Nazis. No one wants to talk about the Nazis over dinner.

“You ever climb a bridge to dismantle a mine under heavy artillery fi—“

“Oh! Look!” Hal suddenly interjected, “They have tapioca pudding here. See?” He shoved the dessert menu in Alan’s direction. 

“Ooh,” Alan cooed, placated for the moment. The only thing he loved more than bitching about Nazis and pontificating about the brutalities of war was tapioca pudding. 

A loud crash near the door grabbed everyone’s attention. 

“Ah, fu—shticks! My bad!” Wally appeared directly in the path of the waitress, sending most of her dessert tray clattering to the ground. Kyle noticed, as Wally caught several of the glasses with incredible speed, he seemed to choose to let a few fall to the ground. It happened so fast. Maybe Wally was just very agile. Maybe he was an athlete as well. “Here, chief,” Wally held his credit card out over the bar, towards Radu, “Just ring it up. I gotta watch where I’m going.”

“Oh Wally!” Radu cried, “No trouble at all for one of my favorite customers!”

“You’re too good to me, man.” Wally said over his shoulder as he approached the table. “Sorry I’m late guys.” He took a chair from another table, behind Hal and Carol, even though there were two empty seats next to Kyle. “‘Scuse me real quick,” he said as he grabbed the back of Hal’s chair and slid him away from Carol, making room for himself.

“Hey!” Hal shouted, the picture of indignant. 

“Did you see Tru Blood last night?” Wally asked, sitting backwards in his chair and fully turning his back to Hal.

Carol lit up, clapping her hands, “Oh I did! It was so good! I loved when—“

“Aren’t you married?” Hal hissed at Wally’s back.

“Ew!” Wally snapped, whipping around suddenly and at an odd angle like an owl. “Don’t interrupt! It’s rude. Anyways.”

Hal harrumphed and sunk down in his chair. 

“So, tapioca is your favorite?” Kyle asked.

“It is. One of my earliest memories.” Alan said, chewing thoughtfully. 

“Oh?” Kyle tried to press for more detail. He let Alan slowly share some of his oldest memories—happy and full of detail of his childhood home.

Guy caught Hal’s gaze and jerked his chin up once, You okay?

The one corner of Hal’s mouth pulled downwards and he shrugged one shoulder, Yeah I guess so.

Guy stabbed his fork into his apparently child’s size portion of fries. He stuffed them into his mouth and nodded sharply, At least the food’s good.

Hal nodded in agreement, taking one of his chicken tenders off of his plate with his hand and breaking it in half. 

They watched as Wally dumped dessert after dessert into his face while Carol gushed about the TV show. Something was off about that guy. He seemed way more nervous than usual and he kept looking at his watch. He stood up suddenly, “Hold that thought,” He said to Carol, almost too fast to understand, “Gotta use the bathroom. Berightback!”

Kyle was still in rapt fascination with Alan’s story. John was concentrating on his Boba hunting experience. Carol chose this moment to use the restroom as well. Hal huffed again. 

Guy looked from Kyle back to Hal, a concerned expression on his face. He raised his eyebrows, tilted his head to the side, pointed one finger from his folded hands at Kyle as he jerked his head in the opposite direction and then made a steeple with his two index fingers. You don’t think she’s still in the house?

Hals lips flattened in a grimace. His eyebrows furrowed and he nodded his head towards Guy. He unfolded his hands, flattening his palms in parallel like he was showing a measurement. His eyes widened to accentuate the size. He then curved his fingers and touched the tips together. You're being a huge asshole.

Alan smiled as he watched the silent conversation unfold. He was the only other person at the table who was also versed in bitches’ cant. He also noticed that Wallace hadn’t gone to the restroom at all. He had vanished out of the skate park door. And at an incredible speed. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one with interesting powers. Something was indeed afoot at Radu’s Cafe. 

[berenwrites]

Beyond the Battle - Chapter 40 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Beyond the Battle­: Action & Consequence

A/N: Apologies for this being so late - I was hoping to get it finished Thur evening, but I twisted my wrist while opening a quiche (don't laugh 😝) and couldn't type. It was okay again by the next day, but it threw off my writing schedule because we had my husband's nephew down from Friday to Sunday. He's going to uni near us in Sept, so we were showing him round.

Click here for All Posted Chapters

Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin

Rating: Teen

A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.

Also on AO3

Chapter 40.    The Realities of Hawkins

For a moment there was absolute silence. Steve was pretty sure he would have been able to hear a pin drop. Owens seemed to have the dramatic pause down perfectly.

“We didn’t jump through your hoops and come here for hyperbole,” Ted Wheeler said loudly as several other people commented their surprise, although not as brashly.

Of course Nancy’s father would assume that. Steve knew the man had a rod up his ass.

“No hyperbole,” Owens said, lifting his hands in a small gesture for quiet, “a simple statement of fact. The phenomena which caused so much damage to Hawkins have nothing to do with tectonic movements and were not an earthquake. Had the young people in this room, along with Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers not done what they did, the fissures would have eventually spread beyond this town as our reality was invaded by another one.”

“Another reality?” this time it was Lucas’ dad who got a question in before Ted could pipe up again.

“There is another dimension, a world if you will,” Owens explained, “which almost touches our own in this location. Because the barrier is so thin here, gates can be formed to allow things to pass from one to the other.”

“We call it the Upside Down,” Dustin piped up.

“What a ridiculous name,” Ted Wheeler muttered.

“It’s because if you go through a gate, it’s Hawkins but everything is upside down. You fall to the floor,” Mike defended the choice.

“Hawkins Labs was studying the phenomenon in 1983 when Will Byers disappeared. A creature from the Upside Down came into this reality, took him, and trapped him on the other side,” Owens went on, flicking the switch on his projector as he did so. “Regrettably, those in charge of the project at the time chose to cover up the disappearance rather than seeking to solve it.”

Steve was a little shocked when a drawing of a Demogorgon appeared on the screen, even as he recognised the spin Owens was going for. It seemed the man was not pulling any punches while also making sure the blame was squarely on Brenner’s shoulders.

“The official title for this lifeform is unhelpful, so we have adopted the children’s term for it,” Owens said as half the room stared at the illustration in horror. “This is a Demogorgon.”

“Total nonsense,” Ted said, standing up. “That is a drawing from a comic book. I don’t know what games are being played here, but I have heard enough.”

Steve watched Owens share a glance with El, clearly there was a plan for this. El held out her hand and the coffee table that had been pushed to the side rose into the air. She floated it to in front of where everyone was sitting and placed it gently back on the ground.

“Thank you for that demonstration, El,” Owens said with a smile.

“Now parlour tricks,” Nancy’s father spluttered.

“Sit down and shut your pie hole, Ted,” Hopper said in a flat, no-nonsense tone, “until you know what you’re talking about.”

“Ted, sit down,” Karen hissed at her husband when he didn’t immediately move.

“It is not a parlour trick, Mr Wheeler,” El said politely. “I could lift you to prove it if you would like.”

Ted sat down, shaking his head.

“As you can see,” Owens went on with his presentation, “El has uncommon abilities. Moving things with her mind is only one of her gifts, closing interdimensional gates is another. El was an unfortunate victim of my predecessor’s obsession with such abilities.”

“El was a prisoner in the lab,” Mike piped up. “She escaped after Will was taken and helped us get him back.”

“Thanks to the children, El was kept safe and was able to send the Demogorgon back to the Upside Down, unfortunately to the detriment of her own health,” Owens took up the explanation once again. “So much so that we all believed she had died. Luckily for all of us she had simply been displaced and was found and protected by Chief Hopper.”

“And you have all known about this since 1983?” Charles Sinclair asked, looking over to where everyone in the know was gathered.

“A simple show of hands?” Owens suggested. “Please would everyone who was involved in the Upside Down in 1983 raise their hand.”

Steve put his hand up, along with Nancy and Jonathan, Hopper and Joyce and all the kids except Erica.

“I was brought in to maintain Hawkins Labs after it was believed that my predecessor had been killed by the Demogorgon,” Owens added. “At the time it was a containment operation, because the gate to the Upside Down was still open and we had no way to close it. Unfortunately, in 1984, creatures from there once again broke into our Hawkins.”

The man removed the image of the Demogorgon and placed a slide of a photograph in its place. Steve slipped his hand into Robin’s as the image of a gate made him go cold. It reminded him too much of being pulled through the bottom of the lake.

“This is a gate,” Owens explained. “All we could do at the time was burn back any contamination which came through. However, unknown to us, there was another fissure. Creatures known as demodogs,” Owens changed the slide again, “which we now know to be an immature form of a Demogorgon, invaded Hawkins.”

“There were lots of them,” Dustin said.

“Fortunately, the creatures from the Upside Down operate as a hive mind,” Owens continued. “They require a link back to the Upside Down to sustain themselves. Once again, thanks to the efforts of those present, the demodogs were kept in check long enough for El to once again risk her life, this time closing the gate. Once cut off from the Upside Down, the creatures remaining on this side of the gate died. At the time, we had hoped that would be the end of it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Claudia said, looking at her son.

“Unfortunately, not,” Owens agreed. “Next came Starcourt.”

“The fire had something to do with this Upside Down?” Ted Wheeler asked, and at least he seemed to be buying into the explanation now.

“Oh yeah,” Robin said, squeezing Steve’s fingers.

He could see Robin’s parents both looking at her now.

“Mayor Kline was not simply corrupt, he was also a traitor to his country,” Owens revealed. “Starcourt was a Russian infiltration operation to exploit Hawkins’ connection to the Upside Down.”

“Russians, in Hawkins?” Ted actually sounded like he was on board at that.

Steve almost wanted to laugh, of course that would be what got to Ted Wheeler, but it was only an almost. He felt Robin move closer to his side.

“How did you let that happen?” Ted then demanded, which was much more like him.

“Not my department,” Owens replied simply with a smile. “I was tasked with incursions from another dimension, not for a foreign power. The Russians used the new mall as a cover for the power they required to run a machine with which they opened their own gate to the Upside Down.”

“So, was that how you found them?” Robin’s mom asked.

“I wish that were true,” Owens said, “but no, we were unaware of the danger in Hawkins until the fire.”

“Then who..?” Lucas’ mom asked.

Dustin, Erica, Robin and Steve shared a glance and slowly put up their hands.

“How on earth?” Robin’s dad said.

“I was working with Steve at Scoops,” Robin jumped in, “and when Dustin came back from camp, he told Steve he picked up a transmission. It was in Russian. I translated is, but it was a code. Then Steve realised the sound we could hear in the background was one of the ride on horses in the mall. That made the code kind of obvious.”

Steve gave her a look for that, because it definitely hadn’t been obvious. Robin was selling herself short.

“We found an elevator,” Erica piped up, “not that we knew it was an elevator until we were in it. It took us down to a base under Hawkins where we found the Russians using a machine to open a gate.”

“Why didn’t you come straight back up?” her mom demanded.

“The elevator needed a keycard,” Steve finally spoke up. “We were trying to find one when they realised we were there.”

“They caught you?” Erica’s mom sounded horrified, almost exactly the same way his mom had done.

“Steve and Robin held a door so me and Erica could get away,” Dustin said, before Steve could answer that question.

“But you still came back for us, even when we told you to go get help,” he responded, giving Dustin a look.

“There wasn’t time,” Dustin replied. “They would have killed you by the time we got back.”

“Yeah,” Erica agreed. “I mean look at the state you were in when we found you anyway.”

Steve did his very best to make shushing motions without it being too obvious, but by then it was too late. The only parents who needed those details were his and Robin’s, but now there were questioning looks on all faces. Only belatedly did he realise he and Robin were now so close it was like they were trying to merge into one. Robin’s grip on his hand was like a vice.

“Unfortunately, the Russian experimentation had allowed something from the Upside Down through,” Owens took up the story again, taking the focus off them. “For some time before the Scoops Troop,” Steve was surprised the man knew that name, “discovered what was going on under the mall, an entity we refer to as The Mind Flayer started to invade Hawkins. As far as we can tell, it infected Billy Hargrove first, after which he brought it more victims, each mind controlled and sent back into Hawkins to work for the Mind Flayer. Most of those listed as lost in the mall fire, were in fact absorbed by this entity. Its aim was to kill El and all those helping her to prevent anyone being able to stop it.”

Steve’s eyes zeroed in on Max’s mom at the mention of Billy. She was sitting ramrod straight and staring at Owens in a fixed manner.

“There was a showdown at the mall in which the youngsters held off the Mind Flayer while Hopper and Joyce attempted to shut down the Russian machinery to close the gate and cut off the monster the Mind Flayer had created,” Owens continued.

“Mom,” Max spoke up, “Billy sacrificed himself to save El and give us more time. At the end, he beat it.”

Max’s mom looked at her daughter and let out a sob. Max was over to her mom in a second, and Robin’s mom who was sitting next to the poor woman turned to help as well.

“We all believed Hopper was killed in the resulting backblast when the Russian machine was disabled,” Owens continued in what Steve suspected was an effort to give Max’s mom the illusion of privacy.

“What did happen to you?” Lucas’ dad asked, looking at Hopper.

“Russians,” was all Hopper said, apparently as unwilling to talk about it as Steve was.

“So, if the Russian gate was closed,” Robin’s dad asked, “who opened another one? I assume that’s what happened recently.”

“Not quite,” Owens replied. “What we did not realise until the death of Chrissy Cunningham…”

Steve looked over to where Eddie was standing among his friends. He saw the way Gareth put his arm around him at the mention of what had started everything this time.

“…was everything that had transpired was being caused not by a faceless entity from the Upside Down, but by a man,” Owens continued to explain. “Henry Creel, son of Victor Creel, was gifted like El.” He changed the slide to a picture of the Creel family. “While my predecessor believed him to be deceased, he had in fact been translocated to the Upside Down, where he joined with the hive mind of the creatures there and took it over. The murders that occurred this spring were his work as he used them to open gates to our Hawkins. When he succeeded in murdering four children, the Upside Down began to break into our reality.”

“Four?” Robin’s mom said, looking up from where she was still helping Susan. “I thought there were only three.”

“I was the last,” Max said quietly. “I died for a little while until El brought me back.”

“This is crazy,” Ted Wheeler said and to Steve he sounded as if he was genuinely having trouble processing what he was being told.

“Tell us about it,” Eddie commented.

“And what part did you play in this?” Ted asked, apparently having decided that Eddie would do as a target for his frustration.

Steve had had enough.

“He died,” he snapped. “Eaten alive by mutant bats while distracting them so they didn’t get to Dustin or into Hawkins.”

It was blunt, it was graphic, and he had the pleasure of seeing Ted Wheeler go pale.

“Died?” Claudia said, hand over her mouth is horror.

“Got brought back by Vecna as a minion, luckily for me these guys ended him for good and pulled my sorry ass back to the real world,” Eddie said, much more gently with his eyes on Dustin’s distressed mom.

“Who’s Vecna?” Charles Sinclair asked.

“Henry Creel,” Lucas replied. “Before we knew who he was, we called him Vecna. Nancy and Robin figured out who he was for us later.”

“We were trying to kill him before he could get to Max,” Erica explained, “but Jason Carver and his goons got in the way. If the adults in this town hadn’t let the sanctimonious moron off his leash the fissures never would have opened.”

Steve watched a couple of guilty looks being exchanged.

“We managed to hurt him,” Nancy finally spoke up, “but we couldn’t kill him. Not until El, Hopper and the Byers all returned to town. After the town was evacuated, we helped El finish him off.”

“What about the army?” her father asked.

“They got in the way,” Joyce said in a very derisive tone, “so we worked around them.”

“Unfortunately, the man in charge of the operation at that point was the same one who attacked this house the day before yesterday,” Owens revealed. “He was of the opinion El was the danger, refusing to believe the evidence about Henry Creel, even when it was right in front of him.”

“He wanted to arrest us for saving the world,” Dustin said, clearly never going to be over that part.

“Luckily I was in time to prevent that,” Owens continued. "The attack on the Harringtons’ home was his last-ditch attempt to eradicate the threat he believes El poses, even though she is the only reason we are all standing here today.”

“Man was crackers,” Will spoke up for the first time and had everyone nodding along with him.

“Mad as a box of frogs,” Wayne agreed.

“You have all been given this information because your children deserve your love and support,” Owens said, looking around the room and meeting all the shellshocked eyes.

“Why now?” Erica and Lucas’ mom asked. “Why not when this all started.”

“There have always been factions within the government who wish to suppress all information about the Upside Down and everything associated with it,” Owens replied. “They held sway on who was and who was not allowed to be read in. However, after the latest fiasco, those of us who do not agree with this policy have the upper hand. We believe there is only one way to protect those who have saved us times and again, and that is to be very loud and specific with the cover story for everything the world has witnessed happening here. We wish to name all those involved and have them recognised as the heroes they are so they will be too high profile for shady government organisations to touch.”

“What?” Steve said at almost exactly the same time as everyone else in their group expressed similar reactions.

No one had mentioned that, but when he looked towards his mom, it was clear she had known this was coming. Thinking about it, it had her fingerprints all over it.

“Wouldn’t that make the kids bigger targets?” Karen Wheeler asked.

“They already are targets,” Steve’s mom spoke up now. “Be under no illusions, the government has files on all our children and probably us too. The only way to ensure their safety is to make them too high profile to touch. I would not be putting my faith in this plan if I did not believe it was the only way. Our kids have been facing this mess without our support because shadowy men in suits decided we were not allowed to know what they were going through. This way they never get to dictate to our families again.”

It was probably way more complicated than that, but Steve could see what his mom was doing. He could also see how her good reputation in Hawkins was perfect for the role she had chosen in this. Even Ted Wheeler looked as if he was coming on side.

“Look,” his mom went on, “I am sure you all have questions and there are things we all need to talk about, but there is food and wine for those who think they need it. If you’re anything like me, you probably also want to hug your kids right now too.”

That got everyone moving. Steve was loath to give up Robin’s hand, but her parents made a beeline for her, so he reluctantly did. He really didn’t expect to be swept into a hug along with her. It seemed the latter part of the afternoon was full of surprises.

End of Chapter 40

Chapter 41