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isa-loves-you · 4 months

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Scaring The Boys | The Group Chat|

I am so sorry for not updating, i just don't do well with everyday stress as it is and then having three major holidays back-to-back added more stress, so I decided to take a break. I am also very sorry if I had made any grammar mistakes, the first time I write again is the time where y glasses are broken and I'm recovering from pink eye so sorry about that.

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Isaac: Isaac is a tall man which is a blessing but also a curse. One day you went down into the kitchen to grab water, and you saw your boyfriend Isaac trying to find his two-day leftovers that everyone tells him not to eat.

Due to Isaacs stature and the way the kitchen is laid out you couldn't move around him to quickly grab the water; so, you waited until Isaac was done. Even though it took him a couple of minutes for him to find which container was his, Isaac slammed the refrigerator door, and was met by your eyes. Isaac only seeing a figure come from behind the door and not realizing who you actually were scared the living hell out of him.

He jumped almost three feet back and dropped his food so his hand could clutch his chest like an elderly woman grabbing her purls. You couldn't help but also scream when he yelled because you didn't expect this big of a reaction from him, but as soon as he realized who you were, and you both relaxed you let out a chuckle. Isaac didn't laugh because he was the one who was scared for his life and dropping his food in the process. You did buy him more food as a way of saying sorry even though you didn't scare him intentionally.

Nick: The boys were now into hour 8 of the last to leave the vc. Just like all the other videos Isaac had a wheel with numbers on it so everyone can receive a punishment/ task. It was Nick's turn and Isaac had a little trick up his sleeve for his friend.

A couple of weeks ago Nick was flaunting that he doesn't get scared easily, and Isaac kept that in mind for this very moment. As Isaac was explaining to Nick that he had to tell an embarrassing story as a punishment, what no one knew was that Isaac was texting you to sneak into Nick's room and to scare him. You were obviously on board for this and it was easier than you thought it would be since Nick leaves his door open and is too busy talking over everyone so he wouldn't hear you anyways.

You stood up quietly and quickly grabbed Nick's shoulders and shouted, causing Nick to turn quickly in his chair while yelling. The back of his chair hit your side when he tried to turn around and his chair went down, Nick is now on the floor while you and everyone is laughing. After you calmed down you helped Nick backup and into his chair while telling him that you're sorry, you also gave him some words of encouragement so he can win.

Yumi: You were in the living room scrolling on your phone because Yumi was streaming, and you don't want to be in the room while he works. You were getting hungry, and you knew that Blake could always eat so you decided on Taco Bell and ordered your own food. Blake always changes his order, so you went up to his room to see what he wanted.

You opened the door to him yelling at his monitor like normal, but you couldn't see what he was playing. You said his name multiple times and even shouted it, but he still couldn't hear you over himself, so walked up to him and tapped his shoulder so you could pay attention for a split second. Yumi playing a horror game was never good because he gets so immersed that he doesn't realize what's going on in the real world, which makes him have a big reaction when he all of a sudden feel someone tap at his shoulder. Yumi throws his head set forward and his hands back accidentally hitting your nose as a reaction from his jump scare.

You were now holding your nose trying not to cry “oh my god i am so sorry, I'm so sorry” Blake said over and over again while holding your head close to his chest feeling bad for what he just did. The pain in your nose goes away after a second and you finally straighten back up while Blake still has a hand on your back “what do you want from taco bell?”.

Tanner: Your boyfriend wasn't superstitious until he had some “hauntings' ' in the old group house, ever since then every bump in the night Tanner hears he thinks that there is a ghost. While tanner was streaming you got bored, so you decided to scare him for funsies.

You walked up to his door and opened it quietly, so he didn't hear you since he only had one side of his headphones on. You crawled on the floor slowly so chat didn't see you to warn him, you found a spot in between the dresser and bed where the blanket hangs down so no one can see you. Whenever tanner went quiet for a second you would whisper his name or giggle loud enough for him to hear you and to look scan his room for a person. As tanner went on a rant about ghosts and his “hauntings' ' you decided that it was time for your revel.

You sprung up from your hiding spot and wrapped your arms around Tanner and his chair. Tanner immediately started thrashing around trying to escape your arms. He broke out of your clutch and ran towards the hallway while you belly laughed on the floor, he looked back to see you laughing and realized that it was you the whole time. Tanner came back into the room and praised you for your prank on him and allowed you to sit on his stream for a while before he ended it.

Larry: Everyone who knows Larry knows that he has a horrible sleep schedule, you being his partner has to endure it head on. Larry would often stay up for a day and a half or two days only having small naps in the afternoon, he was trying to fix it, but it was hard. Larry usually has his five-minute naps whenever you guys sat down to watch something which was cute but got very annoying when you tried to watch something new with him.

One day while you two sat down to watch something he started dozing off, so you decided to scare him. Once you knew Larry would be fully asleep you brought your face very close to him making sure that they don't touch, you wanted a little while longer until he started to finally wake back up again. Larry opened his eyes a little before turning to where you were sitting, for two seconds Larry didn't realize that it was you who was very close to him, scaring him in the process. You chuckled to yourself a little but then saw how shocked Larry still was, you eased him back to reality by saying you're sorry and letting him lay his head into your lap.

He shortly went back to sleep with a smile on his face knowing that he got you to feel bad and to baby him even though he was okay with being scared.

#isaacwhy #larry croft #softwilly x reader #tgc #the group chat #the group chat podcast #tooyumi #yumi #yumi tgc #yumi x reader #bigt x reader #big t

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justagalwhowrites · 1 month

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Halcyon - Ch. 8: We’re Completely Undateable, Aren’t We?

You and Joel go on a double date. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 7, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Description of a nude selfie. Description of masturbation. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“What’s your friend’s name again?”

Natalie wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as you walked toward the restaurant. It was a nice one - trendy, with an extensive cocktail menu, something you were planning to take full advantage of as you watched Joel put the moves on someone else. Natalie, of course, looked beautiful. Perfect, really. At least, perfect for Joel.

He’d always had a type. He denied it but he did. Joel had always gone for the effortlessly beautiful type, the kinds of girls in high school you’d have described as a step beyond the girl next door.

Natalie fit the bill, with soft features and natural makeup that perfectly accented them in a way that made you wonder if she was wearing makeup at all. She was unquestionably beautiful, the kind that made you do a double take and wonder what the hell someone like her was doing teaching and not modeling or being an influencer or something that was more lucrative because surely someone who looked like that had easier ways to make a living.

But she was a professor and she was a good one, too. Several of your students had her for other classes and you always enjoyed when you had a chance to chat with her in passing. Joel was going to like her. How could he not?

“His name is Joel,” you said.

“Joel,” she repeated, taking a deep breath and giving a nod that made her curls bounce. “OK. Sorry, I haven’t been on a date in like… six months. I swear I won’t be a total spaz the whole time we’re in there.”

“Well, we’re going to be in the same boat,” you smiled, your stomach in knots. “This is my first date since my split with my ex but you have to rip the bandaid off at some point, right?”

“Right,” she smiled back. “We’ve got this.”

If you didn’t throw up, she was probably right.

You weren’t going to say that.

“Yes we do.”

Joel and the man he said he was bringing for you were already inside, seated on opposite sides of the table, diagonally from each other and looking like the most awkward pair. Joel spotted you first, his eyes going a little wide before he stood up almost comically fast, his chair nearly toppling over behind him. You gave him a tight smile and a small wave as your stomach got tight.

This was going to be fucking torture.

The other man got up, too, and turned to face you and Natalie. He was tall - but not as tall as Joel - and handsome, if a few years younger than you. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. Of course, it might not matter how you felt about it, given how his eyes fell on Natalie.

“He’s cute!” Natalie whispered in your ear as you approached the table.

Before you had a chance to respond, she walked up to the other man and smiled, her hand out.

“Joel?” She asked. “I’m Natalie.”

“Oh,” he said, looking flustered. “Um… I’m sorry, I’m not…”

“I’m Joel,” he smiled tightly, his hand out to her across the table. “Sorry…”

“Oh, God,” she laughed. “No, I’m sorry! I’m Natalie, it’s so nice to meet you Joel.”

She took the seat next to the other man, anyway, settling in across from Joel as you went around the table to sit beside him. He raised his eyebrows at you but you just shrugged before introducing yourself to the other man.

“Good to meet you,” he said, shaking your hand lightly. “I’m Blake.”

“Hi,” you said again, hoping your smile wasn’t too forced.

You sat next to Joel and picked up the menu, looking it over and trying to force yourself to relax. Except you relaxed so much that your knee brushed Joel’s under the table and it made you jump. He looked at you when you did and you both smiled tightly, almost apologetically at each other. You tried not to frown as you went back to your menu.

Joel didn’t look particularly thrilled about the current situation. Had you done a bad job of picking his date? You’d thought Natalie would have been a foolproof choice but maybe you were wrong. Or maybe he really wanted you to be across from him so his knee could accidentally brush hers under the table. You gnawed on your lower lip.

“Everything OK?” Natalie asked, making you look up from the menu. It took you a moment to realize she was talking to you.

“Oh,” you laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, no, it’s… it’s fine, I… um…”

“Goldie has a hard time picking something to order at new places,” Joel cut off your stammering.

You looked at him, a little aghast.

“I do not!”

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “You’ve always been that way. You’re worse now but you can never just get whatever you want, you always have to wait to see what I’m getting so you can steal some and even then you’ll hedge your bets.”

“As if you don’t steal my food,” you put the menu down. “I don’t know that I’ve ever eaten something that I ordered all on my own if I’m out with you…”

“You don’t finish it, anyway!”

“Joel, I have to get a bigger Blizzard than I really want because if I don’t, you steal all of it…”

“So you two have known each other a long time, huh?” Natalie said and you suddenly remembered that it wasn’t just you and Joel there. You were on a date. With other people.

You cleared your throat.

“Yeah,” Joel said, looking at Natalie, one of his signature, charming smiles on his face. “Goldie and I go way back, almost 20 years now…”

“God, we’re getting old,” you laughed a little and tried to find someplace to look that wasn’t at Joel while he put the moves on your coworker.

“Goldie?” Blake asked.

“Oh,” you laughed again, clenching an unclenching your hand under the table. “Yeah, that’s what Joel calls me…”

“She carried this notebook with this sparkly gold cover with her everywhere,” he said. You could feel his eyes on you and your face got hot. “Seriously, it was practically surgically attached. Still kind of is. But that makes sense since she’s a writer. She was a writer then, too. Always been a writer…”

“What do you write?” Blake asked, looking intrigued.

“Not much lately,” you said. “But I have one book that’s published. It’s kind of a coming of age story?”

“Oh,” he deflated a bit.

“Sorry,” you said, not sure why you were saying it.

“No, don’t apologize,” he said quickly. “Just… not really my thing. Sorry. I’m sure it’s great…”

“What kind of books do you like?” You asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Well, I’m reading Ulysses right now…”

“Ulysses?” Natalie cut him off before covering her mouth and clearing her throat. “Sorry. That’s just… it’s one of my favorites. I’m teaching it next semester…”

“Really?” He asked, turning to face her, his face lighting up. “What do you like about it?”

“Oh, I love the stream of consciousness structure…”

They seemed to tune out everything then, totally absorbed in each other. You gave Joel a look and he gave you the same one back.

You weren’t entirely unused to being with Joel on a date, it had just been a while. In hindsight, you realized you probably hadn’t been the best friend you could have been when that happened. You just continued on with Joel like you did when it was just the two of you, the fact that his flavor of the week was there hadn’t made much difference. You’d never felt like a third wheel. You never had much chance to feel like a third wheel.

You were pretty sure you and Joel were the collective third wheel now.

“This isn’t going well,” Joel said, keeping his voice low and turning his head like he was looking back over the shoulder that was closest to you.

“It is for them,” you said, disguising it with a sip of water.

“Good evening!” The server mercifully came to the table and introduced himself. “Can I get you folks started with a bottle of wine or perhaps some of our speciality cocktails?”

“Oh thank God,” Joel muttered.

“Anybody else want wine?” You asked before anyone had a chance to react to what he said. You snatched up the wine list and skimmed to a mid-priced cab. “This winery is excellent, everyone good with red?”

“Sounds great,” Natalie smiled.

“Sure,” Blake smiled.

You didn’t bother to wait for Joel’s response and ordered the bottle and a martini because dear lord if you were going to make it through this night you needed to be a lot drunker than this.

The server left and you exchanged a tight smile with Natalie before Blake cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So,” Natalie said after a moment. “You said you like this winery?”

“Oh,” you glanced quickly at Joel. “Yeah, I did a tasting there a few years ago, they’re in Sonoma, really excellent reds…”

“So, you like to travel?” Blake asked.

“Yeah, it’s always fun going somewhere new,” you smiled. “How about you? Anywhere really fun you’ve been?”

“Oh, I uh… Don’t really like to travel,” Blake said. “Much more of a homebody type.”

“Me too,” Natalie said, sounding a little too excited before clearing her throat. “I just really like having my quiet time, you know?”

“Yeah,” Blake nodded. “You know, me and Joel work in contracting and I’ve really tried to make my home a place I really want to be, it’s my favorite place in the world.”

“See, that’s so wonderful,” Natalie said. “I’ve always wanted something like that but I’ve been bouncing from apartment to apartment for years so it’s hard to really customize things…”

The two of them were off again and you and Joel were left awkwardly sipping the wine the server came back to pour.

It stayed like that all through dinner. All four of you tried to make conversation with the person you were there to see. You really, truly did. But it always led to Blake and Natalie being totally absorbed in each other while you and Joel were left sipping wine and pretending that you weren’t being effectively ditched by your dates.

“Can you excuse me for just one minute,” Natalie said as you were waiting for the check, giving you a look across the table. “I just need to pop to the ladies’ room…”

“I’ll come with you,” you said quickly, grabbing your purse and following her.

The second you were behind closed doors, she grabbed your hand, an apologetic look on her face.

“I am so sorry,” she said. “Your friend seems great, really, and I know that Blake was your date tonight but would you mind if I got his number? If you’re really into him or you think it would hurt Joel’s feelings I absolutely won’t, it’s really not a big deal…”

“Natalie,” you smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “I doubt Blake even remembers my name right now. Absolutely, get his number, no hard feelings at all.”

“You’re sure?” She winced.

“Definitely,” you said. “Please, don’t miss out because you’re worried about being polite or something with me. You two seem like you have a real connection, you should go for it.”

“Thank you so much!” She gave a little squeal. “OK now that it’s OK for me to say it? I’m really excited, I really, really like Blake.”

“Good,” you smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

Joel and Blake had picked up the tab by the time you got back to the table and the four of you headed for the door, Natalie and Blake sticking close together while you and Joel hung back.

“Hey, Joel,” you said as you made it to the door. “One sec, let me show you something…”

He frowned as you put your hand in his and tugged him to the side in the parking lot.

“What?” He asked, glancing back at Natalie and Blake before looking at you.

“Just going to give them some space…” You trailed off, leaning around him to watch where Blake and Natalie were talking, Blake pulling out his phone and smiling as they did. “And there it is.”

“What?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder but you grabbed him by the chin and made him look at you, his eyes going wide.

“Don’t look!” You hissed. “God, you have no tact…”

“Shut up.”

“They’re swapping numbers,” you said. “Two love birds over there…”

“Jesus,” he groaned.

“Sorry,” you said, stopping watching them and focusing on Joel again. “Didn’t think you’d mind too much…”

“Yeah, didn’t exactly feel a love connection with Natalie,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You OK with Blake not being the one?”

“Think I’ll survive,” you smiled tightly. You glanced around him one more time. Phones were back in pockets. “OK I think we’re good.”

“C’mon Cupid,” he said. “Let’s go get shot down.”

You snorted but followed behind him to the edge of the parking lot where Blake and Natalie were waiting.

“So, if you don’t mind,” Natalie said, still wincing a little. “I was going to have Blake take me home? Catch up with you next week?”

“Sounds good,” you smiled before turning to Blake. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” he said, at least being polite enough to look sheepish about it.

“Good to meet you, too, Joel,” Natalie said. “Really, you seem… nice.”

“Same to you,” he said, hands still in his pockets.

The two of you stood there, side by side, as your dates went home together.

You sighed and looked over at Joel once Blake and Natalie were safely in his car. Joel looked back at you.

“We’re completely undateable, aren’t we?” He asked.

“Yep,” you nodded once.

He sighed.

“Well, at least we have each other.”

“Could be worse,” you agreed.

“Want to come over?” He asked.

“Yes but…” you bit your lip. “Can we go to Sonic first? I kind of really need a shake now.”

Joel laughed.

“Absofuckinlutely we can.”

***

“You really think this is a good idea?”

Your head was dangling off the seat of the couch, your legs draped over the back as you looked at your phone screen.

“Better idea than all your blood rushin’ to your head for however long you’ve been sitting like that,” Joel replied, sitting on the floor with his back to the love seat next to you. He tried to ignore the way your body curved in that position. The shape of your legs, your ass pressing into the cushions, your breasts swelling over the cups of your bra and giving him a glimpse of your cleavage in the v-neck of your dress.

You set your phone on your stomach and looked longingly at the styrofoam cup on his coffee table.

“What?” He asked.

“I want my shake.”

“So drink the shake!”

“I don’t wanna sit up,” you whined a little. Joel laughed. You’d added a generous amount of vodka to the shake and it was starting to show. You reached for the cup, arm outstretched, fingers groping but it was out of reach. You whimpered and he sighed, bringing the cup alongside your head. You tried to take it but he pulled the cup away for a moment.

“Just wait, I’m holdin’ it,” he said. “Take a sip if you actually can from that position, you weirdo.”

You rolled your eyes with more dramatic force than Sarah on her best day.

“You’re being controlling,” you said, putting the hand that had been reaching for the shake on your stomach by your phone.

“Tryin’ to keep you from wrecking my carpet,” he replied, putting the shake by your head again and putting the straw in your open mouth. “Don’t choke.”

“Don’t choke,” you mumbled mockingly around the straw - or he thought you did, anyway. It was hard to tell. You managed to actually get some milkshake into your mouth but almost immediately grimaced. Joel took the straw away.

“You OK?” He laughed.

“Brain freeze,” you winced, eyes scrunched closed. “Ugh, why would vodka and chocolate betray me in this way?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Goldie.”

“You think this is why my date ditched me?” You asked, eyes still closed in a wince.

“What?” Joel laughed. “Because chocolate and vodka decided to attack you personally?”

“No,” you frowned, the upside down angle of your head making it look like a sad smile for a moment. “Because I like doing shit like this. I probably should have out grown this years ago.”

“Hon, if some asshole is telling you to grow up, he doesn’t deserve you,” he said. “Now let me see that damn profile.”

You sighed and surrendered your phone. While sitting in Joel’s truck at Sonic after your respective dates had crumbled, Joel redownloaded Tinder and you decided to set up a profile of your own. But you’d never had a dating app profile before. You sat on the couch, gnawing on your thumbnail and ignoring the milkshake you’d wanted to stop for until Joel went and got the liquor. After a few shots - and a generous amount added to your shake - you loosened up enough to fill out the profile.

But you hadn’t loosened up enough to finalize it yourself.

“OK well we’re changing out these pictures,” Joel said, scrolling down the page.

“What’s wrong with the pictures!”

“Did you scroll through your album to find the most boring photos of you ever taken?” He asked, lowering the phone enough to look at you. “Because these are not doing you justice…”

“Fuck off,” you tried to shove him but almost fell off the couch instead, gasping then giggling as Joel caught you.

“Jesus, please try to not break your neck,” he said, heart in his throat as he helped arrange you on the couch. “Just got you back, rather you not die in my living room…”

“Give it a few months,” you settled into the couch again. “You’ll change your tune.”

He scoffed, scrolling down your profile.

“See, you didn’t pick the best prompts,” he said, frowning.

“What do you mean?” You asked, adjusting your head to try to see him better and then giving up.

“You’ve basically just said what your job is four different times,” he said. “Can I fuck with your profile?”

“You’re the expert,” you shrugged. “Shake please.”

Joel sighed and held the cup up so you could reach the straw again before going into your prompts.

“Alright, if you had 20 minutes left to live, what would you do?” Joel asked, lowering the phone to look at you again.

“I don’t wanna say,” you pouted a little.

“Well now you have to,” he teased. “I gotta know. Is it masturbate? Eat your weight in chocolate ice cream? Tell Brad to go fuck himself? What?”

“Not telling.”

“I’ll tell you mine,” Joel said. “C’mon…”

“No.”

“Goldie.”

“Joel.”

“Don’t make me beg, he said. “I will withhold your alcoholic shake.”

You quirked your jaw for a moment before you sighed.

“I’d come see you,” you said. “There. Happy?”

Joel’s heart beat a little faster.

“Goldie…”

“Don’t make fun!”

“I’m not!” He said quickly. “Really, I’m not, I promise I’m not.”

“Feels like you are,” you muttered.

“I’m not,” he said gently, moving so he was leaning on the couch next to you. “Promise.”

“Yeah, alright…”

“Hey,” he said. You lifted your head slightly, enough that he could see your face better. “I’d come see you, too. Assuming I had Sarah with me, of course.”

“What about Tommy?”

“Fuck ‘em,” he smiled a little and you laughed. “Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“Probably shouldn’t put that I would go see some other guy on my dating profile,” you said, letting your head dangle again. “Pick another prompt.”

“How about this one,” he said. “I want someone who… will travel and explore new places with me. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I like that one.”

“Here’s a good one,” Joel said, letting a teasing edge slip into his voice. “Your biggest red flag is… fucking old dudes…”

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “The prompts suck.”

“We’ll figure ‘em out later,” Joel said. “I’m going to find a picture of you that doesn’t look like it was taken at some fuckin’ work conference…”

“Hey!”

“You’re a fun person,” Joel said, going to your photo albums. “You’ve lived a little. Try showing that.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I promise, there aren’t many pictures that are worth your time.”

“We’ll see about that,” Joel said absently as he went to the map of photos. He pulled up the cluster that appeared near San Francisco. “See, this one’s good.”

He held your phone in front of your face, a picture of you smiling in a vineyard.

“Says you like to travel and like wine,” he said. “And you look good in it.”

“Alright,” you said, a smile in your voice. “Put it in there.”

“Not a first picture though,” he said. “We’ll find a better one for that…”

“Knew you’d have this down to a science…”

“Shut up,” he laughed, going back to the map. “You’ve been to Europe, right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “For the book tour.”

“Let’s see,” he said, heading across the ocean on the map and finding pictures in London. “Oh see, these are good, you’re all done up for work and shit but it’s in a cool place. So much better than that one shot you picked…”

“Whatever you say,” you said, smile still evident in your voice.

Joel toggled through pictures. You at the Tower of London, you by that big damn ferris wheel, you by Big Ben, a selfie with a woman who was pretty but not nearly as pretty as you. You holding your book and smiling with a room full of people in the background as they watched you intently. He smiled to himself, looking at the photo for a moment. He was so fucking proud of you, that you’d actually done the thing you’d always dreamed of and people loved you for it. He reached over and took a drink of your shake as he swiped to the next image but he immediately choked on it.

It was a picture of you, a selfie. You were flat on your back on a fluffy white comforter, your eyes hazy with want, breasts bared for the camera.

He knew he shouldn’t be looking at this. He knew. This wasn’t for him, this was for… well, presumably that fucking asshole you spent a decade married to. But before he could consciously stop himself, he memorized you. The swell of your breasts, the pebbling of your nipples, the curve at your waist just as the photo cut off. And that look on your face. How many times had he remembered - pretended? - that you looked at him like that when he’d been inside you?

His conscious mind took over again. He coughed on the shake, dropping the phone and the drink.

“Shit,” you said, adjusting quickly to help clean up. “Are you OK?”

“Fine,” he said, trying to scramble for the phone as he hacked and coughed. Where the fuck had it fallen? “Just… wrong tube…”

“Yeah, try not to do that,” you teased and Joel’s stomach dropped. Your phone was in your hand.

“No, wait!”

“What?” You laughed. “It’s my phone…” You looked down at the screen of it for the first time, your eyes going wide before you clutched it to your chest. “Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t see that!”

He was quiet beyond his subsiding coughing for a moment.

“It’s not that big of a deal…” he began but you groaned.

“I can’t believe…”

“I’m really sorry,” he said quickly. “I swear, I wasn’t looking for -”

“It’s not your fault,” you cut him off. Joel suddenly realized exactly how close the two of you were and he sat back from you. You winced, the expression passing quickly. “I’m sorry. I forgot that was even there, I thought I’d deleted it…”

“It’s not a big deal…”

“I just…” you looked at him, those eyes wide with a desperate need for understanding instead of just desperate want. “Look, things were already in a shitty place with Gale and I was trying to keep him interested when I was half a planet away and I was… well, I was obviously willing to try anything and - “

“Goldie,” he cut you off. “It’s OK. Really.”

“No, it was stupid,” you looked down at your phone, barely pulling the screen away from your chest as you - presumably - deleted the picture. “It didn’t get me anywhere. I don’t think he even directly replied to that photo and it clearly didn’t do much to save my marriage and now… So yeah, it was pretty stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” he said gently. You scoffed. “It wasn’t. You were trying to take care of something that mattered to you. He was a fucking dumbass. You weren’t stupid.”

He was suddenly close to you again - or it seemed sudden, anyway. But he was close enough that he could smell your shampoo and see the different shades in the iris of your eye. You were close enough that kissing you would be easy. Or it would be if there wasn’t so much between you.

But maybe, just this once, it’d be easy. Actually easy.

“We’re home!” Tommy’s voice boomed as the front door smacked into the wall.

“Aunt Goldie!” Sarah shrieked, tearing into the living room as you smiled at her. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here!”

She damn near hurdled Joel and launched herself at you, almost toppling you over as you caught her.

“I didn’t either, kiddo,” you laughed and gave her a squeeze. “But your dad’s and my plans changed. I was just about to head home, though.”

“Aw man,” she sat back from you, pouting a little. “You’re not sleeping over?”

“Remember those cats we got earlier this week?” You asked, brows raised. “Not very nice for me to leave poor Puck home alone when he’s still new in the house, is it?”

“I guess,” she sighed dramatically. “You should bring him next time. Him and Swiftie can be friends.”

You smiled.

“I’ll think about it.” You turned to Joel, looking down at the melting shake on the floor. “Can I help? Where are the paper towels, I can…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly. “You should probably head home.”

“Right,” you smiled tightly, leaning around Joel to see his brother and gave him a wave. “Hi Tommy. Long time no see.”

“You’re lookin’ good, Goldie,” he smiled. “Still out there being smarter than everyone?”

“Mostly,” you replied. “You still pretending rolled up pieces of paper are cigarettes?”

“Sometimes,” he smirked. “When I’m bored and I need excitement.”

You laughed at that and gave Sarah a final hug before leaving. Joel watched you go before sending Sarah to the kitchen for the paper towels before telling her to get ready for bed.

“She behave?” Joel asked as he mopped up the spilled shake and tried to get the image of you, half naked and desperate, out of his mind.

“An angel, as always,” Tommy said. “You two sure made a mess…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joel snapped, looking up at him.

“Nothing,” he put his hands up. “Just an observation.”

“Well,” Joel went back to cleaning up the mess. “Observe something else.”

“Date went that well, huh?” Tommy asked. Joel could hear his cocky smile.

“Something like that,” he muttered.

“You two will figure it out eventually.”

“Yeah,” Joel sighed. “Helped her get a Tinder profile set up tonight…”

“Not the kind of figure it out I meant, brother,” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder and groaned a little as he got up.

“What kind did you mean?” Joel asked.

“Well, figure it out and then you’ll know,” Tommy said. Joel rolled his eyes. “I’m out, been a long day.”

“Thanks for taking Sarah,” Joel said. “I appreciate it.

“Thank me by getting your shit together,” Tommy replied.

“Yeah,” Joel sighed. “I’m workin’ on it.”

Tommy left and Joel managed to get the shake out of the carpet before heading to Sarah’s room to put her to bed. He read some of the book they were working on aloud and tucked her in before going to take a shower himself.

Not that he needed one. He’d taken a shower just before getting ready for the date, it had only been a few hours.

But he needed privacy. He needed to know that his daughter wasn’t going to overhear anything or come wandering in at an inopportune moment.

The shower helped.

He couldn’t wait for Sarah to fall asleep. It was like that picture was burned into his fucking retinas, he needed to get it out of his system now. He needed to get you out of his system.

For now, he’d settle for the picture.

It didn’t take much for his cock to be so hard it ached and he palmed it under the flow of hot water, working himself from root to tip. He tried not to think too much about the picture at first. He’d never been supposed to see it, it wasn’t right that he saw you that way.

But he gave in quickly. He told himself it’d be just this once. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just this once, just to move past it.

He let himself pretend. Pretend that you’d sent him that picture, pretend that you looked at him all desperate and needy, pretend that he got to take off your clothes every night so he could touch every inch of you. He’d been so caught up in what was happening the one time he was with you, the overwhelming intensity of his first time all tied up with just how badly he’d wanted you for so long, he wasn’t sure how much of you he’d actually touched. Not really. But he wanted it to be all of you. He hoped it was all of you. He pretended that he knew all of you in that way as he worked his cock, hard and fast until he came so hard that it spilled over his hand and onto his shower wall.

“Fuck,” he panted, leaning against the wall for support as his cock went soft in his hand.

He needed to fucking get past this. It wasn’t worth blowing up his friendship with you, hadn’t he learned that by now? He had to get his shit together.

He repeated it like a mantra as he cleaned himself up and toweled off before heading to bed. But he couldn’t sleep, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if you were OK. If there was a chance you were thinking of him like this somehow, too.

Joel picked up his phone and went to text you for a moment before he decided against it. Maybe space was better. You probably needed some time after he saw that picture.

Right?

Instead, he opened Tinder. Maybe he could at lest find a decent option for a one night stand, see if fucking someone else helped get you out of his head. He’d never just fucked someone else when you were anywhere near him, though. Could he even do that now? Did he even want to?

He swiped right on the first few women on the app, not spending much time on their profiles and going off their pictures alone. He swiped left on the next one and was preparing to do a quick swipe when your face was in front of him again.

It wasn’t the picture that was lodged in his brain. Instead, it was the picture of you at the Tower of London. Your hair was done but a little messy from the wind, a gentle but happy smile on your face.

He just looked at you for a moment. You’d activated your profile in the short time since you’d left his house.

You had Tinder now and he should have anticipated this. Of course if you added the app and lived this close you’d appear on his. But that didn’t make him any more prepared for it.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

Did he swipe right on the off chance you did, too? But if you didn’t, he’d have to live with the fact that he knew you didn’t.

If he swiped left, it could all go away. Be like it never happened, not you looking for someone else, not him stumbling upon that damn photo, none of it. If he swiped left, he could actually try to find someone else.

His finger hovered over the screen for a moment as he tried to remember exactly what your skin felt like in his hands.

He swiped left.

Next Chapter

A/N: I know, these TWO. I love them. They need to figure it out but I love them.

I hope you do, too!

Stuff is going to ramp up a bit soon. Thank you so much for being alone for the ride! I know I haven't been replying to comments reliably lately (I keep posting chapters super late and just going to bed as soon as I post them instead of responding) but please know that every time I get a comment email to my inbox, it makes me smile. So thank you thank you thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings with me and thank you for caring about this fic. It truly means the world.

Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

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qiutls · 10 months

Text

TNGDH 010

The first day of the Northern festival dawned.

It was noisy all over the place. I woke up early in the morning and sat up on the sawdust with uneven hair.

I'd love to sleep more, but I had a lot of work to do. First of all, it was necessary to increase the miracle value to further increase the duration time of "Summon."

I'm at a loss on how to fill up the remaining percent, but at least I know I can't fill them in this house filled with damn mealworms and crickets.

Yeah, let's go out.

It is also good to go out and grasp the atmosphere of the castle, and check what happens in < Heart of Winter > at this time. And if possible, I may change some of the events and slightly raise the miracle value.

I only have 30 minutes a day, I really need to use it well…

[ Should I use "Summon" now? (｡❛ᴗ❛｡) ]

'No!'

Not now, I don't have any clothes!

Ugh, but there's no better time to go out than now. It has only been 10 minutes since Kyle went to survey the castle for the festival. It would take an hour to complete one roundtrip.

If only there's other clothes available, except for the clothes the magicians picked up…

'Ah! That's right!'

Just then, a wonderful thought came to mind.

The space where Sen found me and chatted along with the other maids. It was the place where they do laundry. In other words, I can get the clothes that servants wore.

Let's just get one of out the pile. Even if it's a bit uncomfortable to know that someone has already worn it, it's way better than being naked.

You never know, I might be able to wear a sleek, and well-washed butler's uniform… Don't you think it'll look good on me?

I had a pleasant imagination in my own way before using "Summon" in the corner of the room.

[ Good luck! (ෆ`꒳´ෆ) ]

However, there was another problem that I've never anticipated.

"I've really lived…"

Originally, life was something you were supposed to know when you've actually lived once, but if you were going with this kind of development, you should at least give me a preview.

I sat with my legs spread out on the stone steps in the corner and put my elbows on my knees. And with an infinitely gloomy look on my face, I stared at the maid's uniform in amazement.

"….."

I should have expected, all the people gathered then were maids. There was no such thing as the butler's uniformed I imagined earlier. Shirts, vests, pants, and shoes are nowhere to be found.

The best I could find was an ankle-length black skirt and an ornamental white apron, and for now, it was the only clothes I could choose.

I screamed silently ruffling my hair with my hands, how can I walk around like this! What do you mean I have to wear maid clothes, I'm a man!

"What's the difference between this and running around naked!"

[ Do you want me to turn off "Summon"? ]

No, don't! That's not what I meant. On second thought, this is not that bad. It's warm and I can move freely, it's even a bit nice… Damn it.

"It's hard to make ends meet."

With this outfit, it's best not to be caught by maids. No, it's best not to be seen by anyone. Hey system, do you have any transparency skills? I'm going crazy here.

Even though I hated it, I had to move anyways. I only have half an hour a day, I need to make the most out of it. I shook myself and went downstairs.

"It would be nice if we could hold the banquet sooner."

"What kind of clothes will do you think His Highness will wear this time?"

"Do you think there'll be more people than last year?"

I tactfully intermingled with servants here and there and heard stories of this and that.

The Northern festival is held only once a year, and it lasts for a week starting from the day when the night is the longest that year. It was no exaggeration to say that it was the grandest even held at the Blake's estate.

The usually dull and cold Blake Castle was now animated and people kept bringing in food from the storage. You can see that the merchants also brought a full carriage. 'Indeed, a festival is a festival.'

The last memory of a festival I remember in my old life was drinking makgeolli at the university festival and suffering from a massive hangover the next day.

At that time, key information suddenly fell into my ears.

"I hope this year goes by without any problems…"

"That's what I'm saying, why am I so nervous? Last year, aristocrats who were in favor of the prince came and bothered me, but this time apparently, the prince himself will attend the banquet."

"Is the rumor really true?"

"Is the prince really coming personally here in the North?"

I crept up behind them with my ears perked up. Of course, I didn't forget to use the broom I got to pretend to sweep across the floor and move.

They went into the banquet hall, loaded with goods, and soon began to decorate the place with flowers and moved the tables around the central dance hall.

"I know right, when this land was a wasteland, he didn't care, even when his subjects asked for his help."

"But since Lord Kyle came, things have improved remarkably. Didn't they say, the reason why the prince never came even thought there was a festival here every year, is because of the bad relationship between brothers? Isn't that the famous story?"

"They sent him to die, but he didn't. Tsk. Tsk."

"Apparently, His Highness Belial will also come, along with the previous Serena, who's on bad terms with Duke Kyle. Their age difference is also…"

the one on bad terms with Kyle is Belial and not the previous Serena, which is a different Serena from Sen

Oh yeah, this is the kind of gossip I want to hear.

'As expected, people who are preparing for the banquet, know the most.'

I should get closer to them, let's step around these servants who are contemplating what to do with the old chandelier, and try to hear more information…

"Woah! That scared me!"

Just in time, the worker who was complaining about the old and loose chandelier ring, turned around and our eyes met.

Wow, you have a really loud voice, thanks to you I was surprised and almost jumped.

"Wait a minute… I don't think I've seen you here before."

… Oh dear.

The skill "Summon" uses my original form and face. I don't know how the system brought my life's data into this world, because if I asked it would never shut up, but right now this person is seeing a face it has probably never seen before, a Korean's face.

In other words, it's a face that doesn't fit this world.

I turned around as naturally as possible and kept sweeping.

Just be natural…

"Hey you!"

It felt like my joints were squeaking whenever I moved.

Indeed, I have zero talent for acting. During the school festival, I always played the role of a tree or a stone. Of course, I didn't want to play that role but for some reason, everyone left it up to me.

The man who looked at me suspiciously, tried to reach for me. But just before he reached my shoulder, I started to move.

I don't care about acting or anything, I just know if I get caught here, it's the end.

"Hey system, how many minutes are left for the skill?"

[ "Summon" will end in 7 minutes. ]

There's less than 10 minutes left.

I can just run until the skill ends.

"Isn't that, that guy?"

It's just your imagination. It can't be you'll know it's me from looking at the shoulders and the height right?

"I'm going crazy."

I only had those clothes to wear. What was I supposed to do in that situation, technically I'm a victim too.

"Wasn't it a few days ago, a guy sneaked into the Lord's study and event took his shirt?"

"Ho, is he that.."

"There, that brown haired guy, just stand there and don't move!"

Ah, I can't hear you. I can't hear anything.

I started fast, almost as if I were running. The soles of my feet felt so cold and numb, but I couldn't help it, there were only socks in the laundry room and no shoes.

'I feel so uncomfortable, I'll wash my hands and feet as soon as I get there.'

This time, after washing my feet, I'll turn the bowl over instead of leaving the dirty water inside, or else they won't change it to new water.

I left the banquet hall, climbed a floor, and fled frantically to the left corridor, it's been a long time since I threw away the broom I held.

'I should've worked out.'

I overestimated the physical strength of an office worker. But at least, I wasn't as weak as before since I rode a wheel desperately to become human.

Thump.

"… Ah!"

I bumped into someone as soon as I turned around the corner of the hallway. You're lucky I'm letting you off the hook today.

"Sorry-"

Obviously I was walking quite quickly but this person didn't even move a bit when we collided, yet I bounced back like a ball.

"Are you okay?"

His voice, low and grave, a voice I'm quite familiar with.

… That's right, it's a voice I hear everyday.

'I'm doomed.'

[ Kyle Jane Minehardt. The Great Duke of Blake. ]

I know. I know. You don't have to tell me.

I turned around and looked at him.

It hasn't even been seven minutes yet and it was weird to end the skill right in front of him. You said I'd be lucky enough to become human? Are you sure it's luck or bad luck?!

[ (◐▽◐);;; ]

'Fuck it.'

I started running away from Kyle and he started chasing me.

His heavy boots banged on the floor and sounded loudly as he approached me. It was like a horror movie. I kept running like before, yet he was just walking. The distance between us gradually got less and less.

"Hey."

I don't know what to do. I'm never running away from him again. When I looked back secretly, his shadow was hanging around my feet.

'….. Crazy'

He's not the Duke of the North for no reason.

Now I really started to give my all into running. The ankle-long skirt started to get in the way, so I held them up with my hands to move my legs easily.

Ah, shit, I don't even have shoes. What kind of situation is this!

"Stop."

'I don't think I will.'

I gasped and tried to breathe in as much air as possible and squeezed out the last drop of my strength to ran further away. When Kyle saw I didn't listen to his orders, he also started following me quickly.

Why are his steps so big? If you're tall, you do everything bigger is that it? How can you make me feel this miserable?

Step. Step. Step.

The sound of bare feet running like crazy and the sound of boots irregularly stepping on the floor. I felt all the emotions I was bottling rise up as I continued to run on the cold floor.

Hey! Stop following me! It's time to give up.

[ "Summon" will end in 1 minute. ]

I shouldn't disappear suddenly today, and it should bring me back to the hamster house once the time is up…

he's talking about the hamster form

Before I knew it, Kyle was right behind me, at this rate, he'll catch up even before a minute passes.

I ran all the way here with the thought of being able to escape, but now it seems like I can't help it. But it seems like I have no choice but to wait for the skill to end and recall back to the hamster house.

Running straight down the corridor, I turned towards the stairs and went down the steps.

"Uh…"

My body leaned forward greatly as I was about to fall when a large hard pulled my arm and causing me to sway back into the ground.

I turned around and saw the owner of the hand, I looked at Kyle with my eyes wide open. My heart was already falling down the stairs, yet my body was held in place with his hand.

"Who are you?"

I can't answer if you ask like that.

[ "Summon" will end in 10 seconds. ]

'It's almost time anyways.'

You're right system, there's no such thing as bad luck.

I laughed and held onto Kyle's arm but still not straightening my tilted body. I wasn't intent on making a good impression. So, I spoke in a sarcastic tone.

Who am I? Me?

"I'm your companion-"

note that companion used here can mean a lot of things, can be friend, associate, partner or even lover, Soohyun was going to say "I'm your companionship hamster" but it got cut off XD

Just then the 10 seconds was up and white light came out of my body. Kyle frowned at the blinding light that flashed before his eyes.

And the me that was covered in that light, became a hamster.

… Who was back in the hamster house.

―…….

I turned my head around and looked at the familiar sawdust and the transparent glass and the duke's study.

Hey, if you're gonna take me back! Take me back after I finished my words! How can you end it before I could say I was a companionship pet. A pet!

I jumped in anger and threw myself on the floor. Great, now not only am I a clothes thief, I'm now a pervert who dresses as a woman and confessed to the Grand Duke.

― Squeak! [ Ahhh! ]

I think it's better to keep living as a hamster. Right? Right. Should I just live like this? That thought easily vanished as I saw the bowl full of mealworms.

Kyle's POV

The flash slowly died down and Kyle opened his eyes. His view was still blurred, perhaps because it was directly hit by the light earlier, but fortunately there was no difficulty in identifying the object in his hands.

The problem was, there was only clothes and the man who had just been in his hands was gone.

A unique face, and thin brown hair that have never appeared in this land. And such light weight, that he was able to hold the man with one hand.

All that disappeared in an instant and all that was left was the maid uniform that he was wearing.

"… Is he a magician?"

But when he disappeared, he didn't seem to chant any incantations. Rather, the last words he said before he disappeared was that he was my 'companion'.

Above all, I definitely saw him for the first time today, yet I felt a strange sense of familiarity. Even though no one I know has no hobby of dressing as a woman.

Kyle raised his eyebrows and picked up the clothes properly. Even when he said he was my companion, why did I just stay still and keep holding his arm.

"I'll find you…"

Even if what you said was just nonsense, I want to find you again.

T/N: this part of the novel is illustrated and made into a promo which you can find in the masterpage for this novel. tysm for everyone who's reading this! and thank you for all the likes, follow and ko-fis <3

novel ⠀✿⠀ next

#tngdh

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maxybabyy · 7 months

Text

Sequel to this maxiel ‘too hot to handle’ au (soft cw for COVID mention and implied unsafe travelling)

Daniel has been living in Max’s London apartment for four months when Max signs on as a Red Bull affiliate sim racer. And Daniel is so happy for him, of course he is. With his newfound celebrity status back in the Netherlands and now this, Max is free to do whatever the hell he wants. But Daniel. Daniel hasn’t really been doing much since ‘too hot to handle’ wrapped up. He does the the odd appearance at events, started up a cameo account, but with Max’s recent breakout, he starts to feel a bit lost, envious that he isn’t getting the same opportunities.

So when he’s offered a spot on the newest season of ‘The Circle’, he accepts.

Max freaks out when he tells him. They’re in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, and if Daniel leaves now, he won’t get back into the country, won’t come back. It causes the biggest fight they’ve ever had.

Max doesn’t yell, but it’s a hard conversation to have, and when Max leaves in frustration, Daniel doesn’t know what to do with himself. Because he has to leave, he can’t not go. He’s in his fucking thirties, and for an influencer like him, that’s pretty much ancient.

Max drives him to the airport, kisses him too wet and tearful. He tells Daniel that he loves him, begs him not to go, and when Daniel doesn’t, turns on his heels and leaves.

Quarantining for the show is tough.

Before Max, Daniel lived on his own in LA, but somehow, the last year has made him unable to be alone. Max still texts him, pictures of the cats, his set-up at the Red Bull facilities, his latest attempt at culinary disaster, but they don’t call.

To make matters worse, Daniel doesn’t win the show. His alliances are quick to get picked apart, and while Jesse – a gorgeous model from Austin, Texas – keeps flirting with him, it doesn’t feel right to flirt back even though he and Max aren’t together anymore. In the end, they call him a catfish and vote him out – a shitty end to an even shittier situation.

He’s offered some gigs around LA, nothing huge but enough to get him on the right lists. And then Netflix approaches him again, this time with their latest dating show – ‘Perfect match’.

He doesn’t say yes right away, knows the implications it will have for his and Max’s relationship, how obvious it will become that they’ve broken up. But like, Daniel isn’t looking for love – already knows where it is, where it was – this is just something that he has to do if he wants to stay relevant.

When you've been on one dating show, you’ve been on them all, Daniel reckons. The cast reminds him too much of the people they met on ‘Too Hot to Handle’ with the added bonus of inflated egos. Even the villa looks the same too, nice but bland with all cultural influence stripped away.

At the end of the first night, he matches with Gabby, a marketing lead from Seattle who has three brothers and loves to surf. She’s sweet and very pretty, touches his arm with her tiny hand when he makes her laugh, and Daniel thinks he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the weeks getting to know her.

They’re hanging out by the pool, day drinking and chatting. It’s freeing in a way Daniel hasn’t felt since ‘too hot to handle’, since before COVID hit. He loved hanging with Max, with the cats in their apartment and late-night Zoom sessions with Blake and Scotty. But it’s different like this, being around people.

He’s only loosely paying attention when the conversation picks up, “Gabby, you were on ‘Love is blind’, right?” Amy, from a season of ‘The Circle’ before Daniel’s, asks. “So you’re like ready for the real deal, huh? Marriage and all.”

“I mean, that’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” Gabby says and laughs. “To find our perfect match of course.” Her hand has found its way to Daniel’s leg, slim fingers loose around his ankle, and Daniel doesn’t think, he can’t –

He forces himself to breathe, to laugh along with the crowd and not jerk his leg out of her grip. He waits another few minutes – at least one, it has to be – before he gets up to get another drink. If he lets himself be pulled into a game of beer pong inside, then no one has to know.

With his mind back in the game, Daniel and Gabby win the second challenge of the show and have to send two people off on dates. Daniel is still stuck on the hot peppers he had to eat when Gabby says, “Oh, this guy is cute, in like. An odd sort of way.”

Her nose crinkles when Daniel looks over, laughs at the way it transforms her entire face. “I don’t think that’s a –“ he starts to say when his mouth suddenly slams shut. Because the guy that she’s pointing to, this odd but beautiful creature is Max. His Max. Max Verstappen who is supposed to be back in the UK, test driving fucking Formula One cars.

They don’t pick Max, settles on some guy from a show Daniel hasn’t watched. But it doesn’t matter in the end; Max checks in two challenges later, on the heels of a date with another ‘too hot to handle’ contestant.

They don’t talk.

Max doesn’t approach him, doesn’t even look at him as his date introduces him to the rest of the house. Daniel wouldn’t even know where to start, so he doesn’t. Their season is still new enough that a lot of the people haven’t watched it, don’t know how big of a deal it is that Max isn’t glued to his side.

Gabby kisses his cheek, says, “I’m going to bed, don’t be too late, okay?” and Daniel nods, smiles and takes another sip of his beer, “I’ll be right up, yeah?”

Max isn’t around, but Daniel cannot imagine he’s matched with anyone here, and maybe that’s for the best too. He’ll be sent home, and maybe – maybe then when they’re both back in London, they can talk.

He’s halfway up the stairs when there’s a shout from one of the rooms, the one he’s been living in with Gabby, so he speeds up, takes the stairs two steps of the time until he’s out of breath and leaning against the door frame.

Max is staring at him from the corner of the room, and he looks fucking pissed. Pissed that he had to come all the way over here to get Daniel home, pissed that Daniel agreed to yet another dating show to find his fucking ‘perfect match’ when Max is right here waiting for him.

Daniel doesn’t know what to say. Max still hasn’t said a word to him, staring at him like he’s livid, but a producer is hovering awkwardly around in case it gets violet.

The producer is about to pull Max away when Daniel turns to Gabby and tells her that he chooses Max.

Everyone but Max is stunned. The poor woman, who just wanted to go to sleep, reaches for his hand, tells him softly: “That’s not how this works, Dan. It’s the girls choosing tonight. This is my room, you know this.” Gabby actually genuinely likes him, knows if she doesn’t choose him tonight, they will have to send him home.

But Daniel can’t not choose Max, so he lets himself be pulled from the room, Max’s hand firm on his wrist as they make it down the stairs. The producer doesn’t know what to do with them either, so they point them in the direction of the couch and tell them they’ll figure it out in the morning.

They aren’t sent home.

Max is still pissed, but he is of course Daniel’s perfect match, knows him better than most of these people even know themselves, so they crush all the compatibility challenges. (“This is of course Daniel’s tweet.” “’Tripping balls.’ Always Daniel will say this.” “These emojis are Daniel’s also.”)

They still don’t talk. Daniel is getting increasingly skittish because he doesn’t know where they stand, or how to act around Max.

Then they lose a challenge.

The host tells them they’re playing a version of Seven Minutes in Heaven, that they all have to kiss each other and rate each other’s kisses and the couple with the highest aggregated score will win. Daniel is too distracted to kiss anyone, barely shakes through it when it’s finally his and Max’s turn – their eyes are covered, but Daniel would know him blind, by the way he tastes and the shape of his lips – the worst kiss they’ve ever shared, and it’s still better than any of the other people Daniel’s kissed. Max’s score was equally terrible, reflected only by the fact that he had to be judged by straight guys.

With Maxiel’s streak of winning everything they touch, the couple sees it as their opportunity to split them up, so they send Max off on a date with someone new.

And Daniel’s not. He isn’t worried. Max has made it clear that he is Daniel’s match. He doesn’t watch reality television, and this human centipede of washed-up influencers won’t affect him. Except when Max gets back, it isn’t some ‘Ultimatum’ reject or a celebrity realtor on his arm.

As seen on some Monaco-based dating show, but intimately more known by the two for his presence on ‘Drive to Survive’ because of his brother, Charles looks absolutely enamoured with Max as they walk through the house together.

Max, who’s been starved for any conversation that wasn’t about who could name-drop the biggest celebrity, glues himself to Charles’ side and doesn’t let go.

He still comes back to Daniel’s bed at night, and suddenly Daniel cannot wait any longer. “What are you even doing, Maxy?” He asks, head held in frustrated hands. “Why are you here? Why are you – what are you doing flirting with Charles Leclerc? This has to be the pettiest – “

“This is of course what you want, no?” Max says, too calm for the fucking mood in the room. “Always you want to win, and this I can do.”

“Max, what?” Daniel says, “I don’t just want to win. That’s not –“

“Because if you’re here to find your perfect match, but did not tell me, there is of course no reason I’m here also.”

Daniel is not about to have an emotional breakdown on television (his mum and sister watch everything he does, and they don’t need to see him cry), so he drags Max to a dead spot one of the other matches had found looking for hook-up spots.

Max is still pissed but he listens to Daniel explain how he’d felt back then, lost in their relationship and envious of the offers Max had gotten, how: “I’m getting old, Maxy.”

“You’re not old,” Max says, quick and indignant, natural in his defence of Daniel.

“I am, Maxy.” He says, laughs in a way that’s supposed to be fun and cute, but must drip of self-deprecation. “I’m the oldest one here, and soon they won’t want me anymore. Then what am I supposed to do?”

Max has given little thought to Daniel’s crippling fear of getting older because he of course wants Daniel always, will always think he is handsome. He also doesn’t understand Daniel’s obsession with being famous – an influencer, as the fucking Netflix producer had called him when he contacted him to say Daniel was coming on the show, and would he like to come too? – but he knows Daniel loves what he does, and feeling like he’s failing at that must be terrible.

“Always you should tell me this,” Max says softly, reaches for him until Daniel falls into him. “If it was this important to you, then of course I will support you.”

Daniel breathes out, lets the last of his tension bleed from his body. “I know, Maxy. I was just, I don’t know. Maybe I was embarrassed? You had all this going for you, and I was just at home playing with the cats.”

“Never you should feel like this, Daniel.” Max says and hugs him tighter. “I am so proud of you, and if this is what you want, then you should have it always.”

“While I was in LA, after I did ‘the circle’, someone told me they might have a job for me. Like a pilot season or some shit,” Daniel tells him softly, rests his head on Max’s chest to listen to his heart beating. “It would be out in Austin, but like, it should only be a month, maybe two. But I thought like, maybe if it made sense with Red Bull, you could come with me?”

“Of course, Daniel.” Max is quick to say. “This long-distance thing, I think, is not for us. Always I want to be with you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Daniel says and kisses Max, long and deep just like that first time. “Love you, Maxy.”

“I love you too, Daniel.” Max says, kisses him again before he stands up. “Now, let’s go so we can win this show also.”

#soft subplot where max thinks they were on a break/long-distance this entire time whereas Daniel thinks they broke up in the airport ...#youtuber voice: what neflix show should we turn into a maxiel au next??!?!#maxiel #my writing #too hot to handle au #ficlet #mv33 #dr3

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longroadstonowhere · 1 year

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gods, it had to happen eventually, so i’m glad we’ve tipped over to ruby finally making it obvious just how badly she’s doing, but fuck did this episode hurt

especially because, like, obviously we all loved last episode, it was a long time coming and it was exactly what yang and blake needed for them, but i also appreciate that yeah, the timing on that was definitely going to punch ruby right in the trauma

because she’s been panicking for a week straight (and even longer really, ever since they unlocked salem’s backstory) trying to keep everything together, trying to keep her friends/teammates from just giving up, and now they’re somewhere absolutely insane with the highest body count behind them (because beacon fell but the chaos was at least somewhat limited, people can still live there, but atlas and mantle are wiped from the face of the planet right now) and, what, while she’s stuck in a crossroads trying to bridge the gap between the most frustrating guide she can’t understand and this old broken version of one of her best friends, her sister gets to go off and make out for a while?

so glad she has the time to do that! the freedom of mind, the lack of responsibilities! must be so nice to have the chaotic mindscape lock you in a room with your crush until you confess to each other, rather than having every mistake you ever made shoved in your face after being randomly drugged!

like, ruby probably still doesn’t really feel like she has friends - weiss has been a great partner, but they’ve never really talked the way yang and blake do, and jaune is clearly dealing with his own shit, and, well, who else would she have? oscar’s not here, penny’s gone (and does ruby even know what jaune had to do?), she and blake get along well enough but that’s her sister’s girlfriend now, how is she supposed to navigate that friendship? and obviously there’s just so much to her relationship with yang, they’re sisters and they love each other but they’re sisters so they can never talk about certain things with each other, and where does that leave her?

well, it leaves her with a little friend, who was the only one who noticed how badly she was holding up during the team’s chat while jaune went on patrol

so now we get to see just what little is meant to do

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cybrpwup · 1 year

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ᴏʙʟɪᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ || ɢʀᴜɴᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

grunk x f!reader !

Warnings: none Summary: Grunk and Y/n are the only ones oblivious of their feelings. (You are Isaac younger sister to wtvr hence why you’re living at the house) requested?; yes !

Y/n crawled from where she had been sitting to perch on Carl's lap. He rested one hand on her hip and the other cupped her cheek as they both leaned forward to kiss each other. It felt oddly surreal.

Grunk was the first to pull away, pressing his lips together. He was looking at her as if studying her expression to see how she felt about it.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

y/n couldn’t help but giggle slightly at his words before she caught his lips in hers once again.

She could feel Grunk’s fingers beginning to curl into the flesh of her hips as he held her there, kissing her for every second he couldn’t before now.

"Breakfast!!"

It took a moment for Grunk to remember where he had fallen asleep; he was in the guest bedroom of the group chats house, the morning after last to leave vc 3 where he’d been dared to fly out and was now spending the weekend.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, taking a seat on the couch; where most meals were had. Only a couple of the other guys were up even though it was almost the afternoon.

"Good morning, Jack." Y/n greeted the boy as she placed a plate in front of him. He ruffled his hair and gave a smile back.

Tanner appeared in the stairwell, "I am starving.”

“I’m gonna bring these up to Nick and Blake since they’re obviously not going to be getting up anytime soon, your plates right there." The female huffed as she carried 2 plates up the stairs, Grunks eyes on her the whole time.

Suddenly she was standing in front of the brunette, waving a hand in his face, “Are you here with me?” She laughed as he snapped back to reality.

“Hi. Yeah, hello.”

“You’re on the remote, silly goose.” She pointed to the remote that was tucked under his leg; he inched over letting an apology slip past his lips.

She plopped down into the spot he’d just moved from, their shoulders touching. A comfortable silence broke out between the two as they ate and focused on the tv. “I’m glad you’re here, we need to hangout more,” Y/n finally spoke, her eyes never leaving the tv. Maybe because she was really into the show or she simply couldn’t say it while looking at him.

y/n would be the first to admit. Grunk wasn't as bad as she thought he would be when they first met. On the contrary, he was way better than she anticipated. He could be weird and goofy sometimes, but things were always fun with him.

There were obvious feelings for each other, the group was constantly teasing him for the way he got all excited when y/n came around.

They were currently lying on the front porch after Y/n had suggested to get away from the chaotic house. It was getting dark, a couple stars already speckled the sky as the two of them babbled on about anything they could think of.

"Do you know what that star is called?" Grunk asked, his hand pointing up at the sky.

A small huff of laughter passed her lips, "Huh? How would I know?" She questioned, looking up at the star.

"Dunno. You seem like the kind of girl who would know." He shrugged, glancing over at her for a quick moment.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A calm silence settled between the two as they continued to stare up at the sky. She could tell Grunk wanted to say something to her; god, she could almost hear his thoughts beside him. She turned her head to look at him, perhaps initiating another conversation to pull him out of his, evidently, troubling thoughts. However, she found that he was already looking at her; she felt her face heat up at the intense look on his face.

She let out a small laugh and hit his chest lightly, "What?"

He hesitated for a moment as if he didn't know if he wanted to say what he was thinking, "I keep dreaming about you- us." He finally blurted

y/n felt her heart pick up at his words and her cheeks flush, "Really? What happens?" She asks, curious as to what mischief he could get into in his head.

He ran his fingers through his hair and licked his lips, letting out a laugh as he recalls his dream, "Usually it starts off with us uh kissing," He replied, sitting up and turning his body to face her, only for her to do the same.

"Oh?" She lifted an eyebrow, a wave of insecurity washed over her as she messed with her hair.

He couldn't help the nervous smile that broke out at her reaction, not hesitating to ask her, "Can I show you?"

Butterflies erupted in her stomach, wondering if he was joking with her, "I uh- yeah sure. yea." She cringed at the way she stuttered, but didn't have long to think about it as Grunk leant in and caught her lips on his own.

It was always exciting to kiss someone new. The first shy touches of yet to be claimed lips, leading to soft sighs and deepening feelings. The feather light touch on her lips made her feel warm and safe as he pulled her into his lap.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long." Grunk spoke once they both needed to come up for air.

y/n couldn’t help but giggle slightly at his words before she caught his lips in hers once again. She could feel Grunks fingers beginning to curl into the flesh of her hips as he held her there, kissing her for every second he couldn’t before now. "Then what happens?" she spoke, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip, eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes.

Grunk rolled his eyes at the question, letting out a nervous laugh and rolled her onto her back, hands entwined and giggling like the pair of lovesick teenagers that they were. Neither of them wasted anytime, attaching their lips to one another picking up where they left off.

Why hadn't she done this with him sooner?

They were so lost in each others touch that they never heard the front door creak open, “alright, that’s enough.” Isaac nudged the two with his foot; his overprotective brother coming out, “your door is staying open for the rest of the weekend. Come inside.” He swiftly went back inside with a chuckle, calling to the others, “guess who’s making out on the front porch?”

Grunk flopped down beside her, chests heaving and loud breaths and giggles coming from them both.

none of them wanted to speak and ruin the moment and they sat like that for a while. Ultimately it was Grunk who spoke first, “I knew I would love kissing you, but this was…”

“Even better than the dream?”

“Yes.”

Y/n let out a hearty laugh as Grunk reached across and pulled her into his arms.

#grunk x reader #grunkkk #the group chat #the group chat x reader #the groupchat #the group chat podcast #isaacwhy x reader #grunk

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 9 months

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Come Home: Single Mom AU

Blake: (sets serving tray on the table and pours two cups of tea) How are things back in Menagerie?

Kali: They're going just fine, dear. How are things here?

Blake: (pauses) They've... uh... been better.

Kali: Oh?

Blake: (sighs) The landlord sold the building to a new company, and they're raising rent. I can't afford it with my current job.

Kali: I'm so sorry, dear. (sips tea) ...I know this might not be what you want to hear, but have you thought about coming home? You and Kela can live with your father and I until you save up enough money to buy yourself a house, Kela won't be bullied at school anymore, and I'm sure your father can get you a job working in the liaison office.

Blake: (worries lip) If you had asked me that a few months ago, I would have jumped at the offer....

Kali: (arches eyebrow) Oh, what changed?

Blake: (blushes and tucks hair behind her ear) I... uh... I met someone...

Kali: (deadpans) Blake.

Blake: Let me explain, please. She's a wonderful woman. She didn't run away like other dates when she found out about Kela. In fact, she ran down to the flower shop to pick her up her own bouquet of flowers. She even let her come with on our first date. She's been so kind and patient with both of us, and Kela thinks the world of her.

Kali: Hmm... (sips tea) She sounds interesting. When did you intend to introduce this mysterious Faunus girl to us?

Blake: (sweating) Uhm... She's actually a human...

Kali: (spits out her tea) A human?

Blake: That's actually better than I thought you'd react (sips tea timidly)

Kali: Blake-

Kela: (entering the apartment) Mommy, we're home!

Blake: Hi, baby. You're home early. How was school?

Kela: I got a gold star on my book report! Hi, Grandma!

Kali: Hello, little cub, my how big you've gotten! (stares pointedly at Yang) And who is this you've brought home with you?

Kela: That's Ya- oops... Uh, that's Ms. Yang! She's dating Mommy.

Kali: (eyes narrow) Ms. Yang? Why do you call her that?

Kela: Because Mommy says I need to be polite and show my manners when talking about her around adults. When we're alone, I can call her Yang.

Kali: Really? And do you like Yang?

Kela: Mmhmm! She picks me up from school every Thursday, and helps me with my homework when Mommy's too busy. We all spend Saturdays together and go to parks or the library. She offers to make dinner those days so Mommy can have a break on those days.

Blake & Yang: (sigh in relief)

Kela: She's stayed overnight a couple of times too! I saw them wrestling on the couch one night when I went to get a drink of water. She makes the best pancakes!

Blake & Yang: (silent screaming)

Kali: It sounds like you like her very much.

Kela: (nods)

Kali: Does she make you happy?

Kela: Yes!

Kali: Does she make your mommy happy?

Kela: She's happier when Yang's around. (whispers) Even though she tries to hide it.

Kali: (laughs) I believe it. Well, how about you go to your room and put your stuff away while the adults talk for a minute.

Kela: Okay, Grandma! (gives her a hug, rushes to give Blake a hug, and finally gives a shell shocked Yang a hug before running to her room)

Kali: (sipping her tea) Well, Yang, you might as well have a seat. Now that I've gotten my granddaughter and daughter's opinion of you, I think it's time we've had a chat.

Yang: (shuffles over to the table like a zombie and sits down) Am I going to die?

Kali: Oh, hardly. I just want to formally welcome you to the family. I haven't had that much fun in ages. I think I'm already beginning to like you.

Part 2

#y'all I am so sorry for how long this ended up being #bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #kali belladonna #single mom au #kids have no filter #kids say the darndest things

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prisonprocess · 10 months

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The Adventure Begins

Brendan M. says:

These days, everything happens online. After I sold my company and took the profit, I lived at the lake house and basically didn’t need to go anyplace or see anybody. After 12 years of corporate meetings, that was fine with me. And there were plenty of online buddies to chat with.

My favorite was Blake. He was into all the hot prison photos, sites, and stories. We’d spend hours late at night, talking about how great it would be to “do prison,” as he put it, actually instead of virtually. “No more role play. Just real steel—the real deal.” Nothing but uniforms, restraints, cellblocks, and being transported in big ugly buses (“diesel therapy”). “Nothin but a number, Jack! And you know what? There’s an outfit that can put you there. Just saw it online.”

That’s when he told me about Your Prison Profile. A hot idea, of course—expensive, but they’d find a place for you in prison, and nobody would know how it happened. When I contacted them, they put me through to Cody, a chill young guy who made everything easy. I didn’t mind that he kept telling me to think about this or that, and we could talk about it tomorrow. I really got off on thinking about my “requirements”: “which level of security is necessary for you,” “are you looking for hard labor,” “single cell, double cell, pod, or dorm,” and so on. We did it all by online video, and I liked the look of Cody sitting at his desk and talking in a calm, level voice about what I wanted to “get out of” my “prison adventure.” Blake and I spent every night imagining our way through the various options. Next day I’d talk it over with Cody and click on the one I wanted.

Then in a couple of weeks Cody came online and told me, “Hey, based on the data you’re giving me, I found you a prison. It’s the same security you wanted, same labor options, the whole nine yards.” I was excited; I wanted to hit Blake up right away and tell him. The problem was—this looked like my last visit with Cody. He needed to know if I’d click on the box that said, yeah, I accept the offer. Which I’d never intended to do. I’d just wanted the fantasy.

I made up an excuse to go offline, and I got back to Blake. “What do you mean?” he said. “You don’t want to go through with it?”

I was ashamed to admit that I didn’t. But I was so excited, I couldn’t let it go. “Maybe for six months,” I said.

“Don’t be a wimp!” he replied. “Besides, you can’t go to a real prison for six months. They won’t let you in. It has to be for at least a year. You know that. And what else are you doing that’s so important?”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll tell him a year.” By that time, I barely knew what I was saying, I was so turned on.

But when I got back to Cody, he said, “I’m sorry. This is a serious facility. They don’t do one-year sentences. Try three.”

“Three?” I answered, like a dumb ass.

“Three years. Or you can sign up for five or ten or fifteen or twenty. But listen, if you’re having trouble making up your mind, you can do two to life. That’s for first offenders who, like, did something pretty bad, but they’re still first offenders. So if you’ve got a good record in the facility, they’ll let you out in two. Otherwise, they can keep you. You understand how that goes?”

“Right. I understand. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks. But I gotta tell you, this offer won’t last long.”

“What do you mean?” Blake said. “You’re not gonna turn that down, are you? Two years from now, you’ll still be sittin on your deck, growin your fat ass, wishin you’d had enough stones to click that box.”

I spent a worried, sleepless, and very excited night, and the next day I got with Cody online and clicked the box that said Two Years to Life.

After that it was easy. I sent a check for 50K, and 5K more as a tip for Cody. I made arrangements with my lawyer. I leased my house. I put my stuff in storage. I waited for my order to report to prison. When I got it, there were two weeks to go. I spent them chatting with Blake and alternating between excitement and fear. But I couldn’t deny what he said: “In fourteen days you’ll be livin the dream.” Then it was ten, then five, then one, and I went online to say so long for the next two years. For some reason, Blake wasn’t on.

Next morning I left the hotel where I’d been staying and took a taxi the 50 miles to the Regional Headquarters of the Department of Corrections, where I was supposed to turn myself in. I don’t know what I was expecting, but all I saw was a dumpy little building with a walk-up window and a sign saying REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT. OK, that was straightforward. I wished I’d seen that sign years before. A twenty-year-old with ear rings was sitting on the other side of the glass. “Driver’s license-Order to Report-cellphone.” I’d never thought about that, but yes, I’d lose my phone. I slid everything through the little slot in the window. The young man tossed my phone to one side of the counter, where I could see it land on a pile of other cell phones. Then he compared my license with my Order, pushed the Order back through the slot, and said, “Give this to the officer at the gate. Next!” I turned and saw that I was part of a line of other men, there to REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT.

The officer at the gate, a fifty-something with a big gut, took my Order and beckoned me through. “Face to the wall,” he said. There was a brick wall on the left, and I put my face to it. “Hands on your head.” I put my hands on my head. Then I heard the double click of the shackles being attached to my legs. This was the moment I’d been waiting for, and I almost lost it right there. Even more when he turned me around and cuffed my hands together.

“Transport cage over there. Get in and line up.” A younger officer who might have been hot but wasn’t opened the second steel gate and let me in silently. It was a cage, all right—concrete floor, and steel fencing all around. It looked like they’d spent twenty bucks on it. There were about 40 guys in the cage, lined up in their go-to-prison clothes, which must have cost then about ten bucks. So these were my fellow convicts . . . .

Note: All stories by prisonprocess are purely fictional and have no relation to real persons or institutions.

#transformation #new fish

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bodybeyondstories · 6 months

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Just ignore it - 3

David realizes he may have overestimated his ability to handle the newly adopted deity in his head. In trying to figure out how to direct an unlimited supply of body transforming chaos magic, he discovers the power of words, leading to some interesting developments at the bar and in Lee's lab.

1 | 2 (Previous) | 4 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass growth // Dick growth // Growth // Suggestion // nsfw

---

A Tuesday night during Winter Break was not the liveliest time at our usual haunt, the Cockatrice, but Lee and I weren’t complaining. We could gossip and scheme in peace in our back corner booth, a spot we so consistently occupied that the bartender, Jaime, jokes that our butt prints are permanently in the seats–which, in light of recent events, is probably true. As Lee had pointed out to my chagrin, the hemispheres of my ass had successfully carved out a noticeable dip in the cushion that would set a normal man off balance. Yet another reason the back corner booth was consistently ours to occupy. With the semester having ended and most of our colleagues having fled town as soon as grades were submitted, it was especially sparse, except of course, for the new regular to our little booth chats, Blake.

I had given just the essential details to the class about the extra dimensional reality warper that was seemingly auditing for most of the term, winning their silence with automatic As, no term paper, and any reference or letter of rec for any reason. I made myself available as a resident expert if they wanted to learn more about this exciting new research opportunity tied to my being through the astral realm. And of course, if they needed guidance on any unintended side effects, from wardrobe malfunctions to unwanted attention. Noah, for one, had developed a similar level of insatiability as my own and was tearing through every available hung top in the city, but had also developed a knack for coming across progressively bigger and bigger dicks; a pattern that was verging on unrealistic. I made a note to investigate further, but encouraged him to just slow down before we had an epidemic of dicks just as unwieldy as my superhung fuckbuddy sitting across from me.

The rest of the semester was relatively uneventful after I explained the situation. I decided I might as well use it as a teaching tool, one of the more extreme examples of what one might encounter in this line of work. I didn’t name Logan, though, for the risk of him drawing the ire of his colleagues. However, after some initial discomfort and surprising ambivalence, they were mostly okay with the changes, even appreciative, though they may not admit it directly. But golden boy park ranger Blake was especially enthusiastic, not to mention deeply interested in all these magical happenings. To the point where his own disproportionately meaty butt was leaving its own comical imprint in the booth next to my own.

Blake became a fixture of our weeknight scene, eager for the latest updates from Lee’s lab, which had begun to research the power of my new mental roommate. Trying to understand the unfathomable deity living in my head was slow going, but I had figured out that while they don’t have a name for themself, or really a concept of naming that makes sense to us, they deigned to experiment with some sort of grammar of identification, a small part of which is interpretable in our dimension as Synt. Blake was usually in the field during the day, so would join us after hours to get caught up, even going so far as to jot down notes and ask questions we hadn’t even thought of. He was a de facto research assistant, and at the very least this whole ordeal had gotten someone actually interested in our little corner of the world. Apparently, he’d also been chatting with Logan about some mystical archival work (I really should pay more attention to what Logan actually does). But this evening he was getting excited about his own neck of woods (pun intended) with something brewing in a local forest reserve.

“It’s one of the old ones that got absorbed into the current system when they modernized it,” said Blake, leaning forward slightly with an air of playful conspiracy, his dense biceps straining against the cuffs of his sleeves. “Not entirely public property, but not really owned by anyone anymore either. We basically have de facto jurisdiction,” a phrase he pronounced with uncertainty, “over the Marshlands.”

I wasn’t familiar with this place–admittedly I didn’t get out enough–but I dissociated as a vague image popped up on my mental map of the region, carrying a resonance that felt like a string being plucked. As I sat with this, I was aware that Blake and Lee were carrying on a conversation without me but sound and light went slightly opaque as I tried to focus on this image of…a forest clearing? And some figures that looked suspiciously like–

“Palmer!” I was brought fully back to reality by a forceful slap on the shoulder from our park ranger friend sitting next to me. Blake quickly had an apologetic look on his face that said he hadn’t quite figured out his own strength.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Zoned out. What’d I miss? The forest?”

“Nah, we moved on to the BBL allegations,” said Lee, with a smirk.

“I’m just sayin’ my leg days are legendary these days,” said Blake, hands splayed in mock humility. “I don’t blame ‘em for thinking something’s up. You know it’s real because I keep maxing out machines at the gym and having to scrounge up more and more plates. It’s starting to draw attention,” he chuckled.

“There’s still a lot we don’t know about the changes that Synt caused,” I offered, mentally putting on my researcher hat.

“Is still causing,” interjected Lee.

“Yes, still,” I said, suddenly feeling very self conscious. When I invited Synt to give Logan a break and join forces with me, I may have overestimated my ability to keep them reined in, and it was becoming a full time project just to keep their power from leaking out into this world at a reasonable trickle. Most of the time, I could relieve little bits of pressure here and there, resulting in acquaintances and strangers getting a little boost in passing; something to fill their pants a little more that they wouldn’t complain about. This got tricky when it comes to people I was not only intimate with, but vulnerable with. Hence why Lee’s lithe, muscular form not only filled the other side of the booth but looked downright ethereal. And yet another reason Blake enjoyed spending happy hours parked right next to me. He was, after all, enthusiastic about the situation.

“Not that I’m complaining,” said Blake. He leaned towards me slightly with a smile that was verging from friendly to flirtatious. “I look better than I ever have. Better than I thought was even possible, all thanks to our mutual friend.” He gave me (and Synt) a wink, allowing his ripped forearm to brush lightly against mine before pulling back at the static shock that visibly–and possibly audibly–jumped the centimeter between us.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no problem’,” he said, getting up and turning to the bar. “Y’all want anything?”

“I’m already at my limit,” I said, “but thanks.”

“Two-drink Tuesday,” added Lee, holding up his index and middle finger, as if that wasn’t something he had just made up. Nevertheless, I appreciated the support. Getting shlammered is no longer an option when you have immediate access to an unbelievable reservoir of chaos magic. Something Lee was constantly reminded of by the trouser snake bulging down the length of his left pant leg.

What didn’t help the situation was that Blake was really taking his time in getting to the bar, swishing his hips back and forth as he moseyed over to Jaime. The park ranger uniforms are a flattering, relaxed fit, but Blake was bursting out of his. The khakis were stretched tight across his bubble butt and quads and the button up couldn’t be buttoned all the way against the mass of his pecs and shoulders. He was a wall of dense muscle, body so sculpted from the realm of fantasy that it was almost a crime for him to even try to wear clothes in the first pl–

I knew what he was doing. He, obviously, knew what he was doing. And most importantly, the reality-altering minor god that had tied themself to me knew full well what he was doing.

We can’t keep doing this, I said to my mental roommate. He’s getting hooked.

Hooked? came a voice like tectonic plates sliding against each other.

Like, he’s enjoying these changes too much. He keeps trying to grow more and more, I worry he might go too far.

Too far? It had become clear that they had no conceptualization of what this meant, but they were starting to figure out what one might call moderation. I felt a small nudge of encouragement as if right behind my shoulder blades, but a small nudge from Synt was like a cruise ship lightly tapping against a wooden pier.

Okay, but just a little, I thought. It’s about finesse, just like we practiced.

Synt was a powerhouse to say the least, and I wasn’t so much tapping into their reservoir of chaos magic as I was slightly loosening a small pressure valve. My fingertips sparked lightly as I felt the peculiar taste of raw possibility in my mouth, like a battery on the back of my tongue that crackled down around my vocal chords. I was focusing on Blakes’s broad shoulders and muscular backside at the bar. His overdeveloped glutes defied gravity, perched like two globes above his hamstrings.

“Those could really do some damage,” I muttered under my breath. I imagined him at the gym, maxing out the machines as a warmup, having to stack weight after weight just to get a good pump. The blood rushing to his strained muscles as they repaired themselves supernaturally fast, swelling against the overstressed fabric until it couldn’t take anymore. At the bar, Blake was adjusting his waistband surreptitiously, his massive butt seeming to grow in real time to match my slapped together tipsy fantasy until finally his work pants began to give way, splitting open in a few spots to hint at a pair of bright green bikini briefs fighting for its life over his round cheeks. Much to his chagrin–but eventually to his delight–whoever he was chatting it up with failed to take notice of his sudden growth. His hand had left Blake’s hip to adjust his own crotch, which was displaying a surprising, and apparently uncomfortable, bulge.

I maybe shouldn't have done this two drinks in. I was going for more juicy pump and less wardrobe malfunction. And I didn’t even predict the spillover effect in this new beau who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe I wasn’t being focused enough, maybe it was some sort of daisy chain from their erotic connection, maybe Blake was figuring out how to re-route the chaos magic with which I had touched him. But as he apparently took notice, he played it off, turning his fat ass to squish against the bar as he faced out, glancing my way with an appreciative wink.

“He can’t keep getting away with this,” said Lee, an amused tone entering his voice. Lee had caught on to Blake’s little trick early on and found it more funny than concerning. “He pulled a fast one on you again!” he laughed.

“He’s kind of doing me a favor,” I reasoned. At least I had a willing participant to let some of the pressure off while honing this new ability. “But he could just ask me directly.”

“Well where’s the fun in that?” asked Lee, his eyes dreamily following Blake’s ass as his new friend let him into the cool winter evening, presumably to explore their respective new assets at one of their places. His eyes flicked back to me as he danced across the word fun, and I tried to evade losing myself in the chocolate brown depths of his irises, captivated by a gaze that had become hypnotic. I didn’t get very far as I began to trace the curvature of his plump lips, the rightmost third of the bottom one lost behind a row of playfully biting teeth.

This was a game we had begun to play and one I would inevitably lose. He knew what he was doing. He knew I knew that he knew what he was doing. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that a side effect of the changes in Lee was that he was beginning to have a draw on people that was hard to resist. It hadn’t taken Lee long to realize that whenever I released Synt’s erotic power into the world, I needed to in turn release my own. Hot and bothered would be an understatement, the recent double whammy in tandem with the pheromones coming from my friend across the booth were sending me into overdrive. And judging by the way Lee kept shifting in his seat, he was in a similar state of excitement.

Apparently Two-drink Tuesday also gets its name from the fact that we can’t make it to a third round without fucking each other’s brains out. Soon enough, I’m plopping my fat ass onto a table in a half forgotten supply closet that makes for a decent hookup space if you’re cool enough with Jaime. It was one of the plastic folding ones that are always already old and whose supports were groaning under my weight. The ambient light from the bar that made it down the hallway framed Lee’s expansive form as he lumbered in behind me, round shoulders rising just past the level of the door frame as he ducked in. God he was massive. As he pushed the door closed behind him, sliding us into complete darkness, I could still feel his outline moving toward me, as if he produced his own luminescence just outside of the visible spectrum.

The bass of his voice filled the room as he chuckled, coming in for a deep kiss and sliding his fingers under the waistband of my leggings as our tongues danced. He was hungry. He pushed me back onto the table as he pulled my thighs toward him. The radiant heat coming off of his crotch became all the more enticing in the chill of the back room, tingles of pleasure echoing from my hole in anticipation. I arched my back as his fingers from one hand traced along my spine, the other tenderly beginning to peel the waistband of my leggings down the curves of my hips. His hands, at this point, were the size of dinner plates but moved with surprising grace. I could feel him resisting the urge to tear the fabric clean off as he struggled to get it over my colossal cakes and tree trunk thighs. A performance of agonizing slowness that had become part of our usual foreplay.

With my hole finally exposed, he slid in one finger, then two, opting for nimbleness and dexterity in light of the brute force that I knew was coming. He worked with a light touch, loosening me up as he undid his pants and slowly slid them off, bending slightly to finagle his prodigious cock free. I regretted not having hit the lights. The slow reveal of his member was a sight to behold, even in the weak fluorescence of the store room. With a grunt, I heard his pants fall to the floor, followed by a thwack against the underside of the cheap plastic table. I briefly fantasized about Lee’s gargantuan cock lifting the entire table with me on it, entertaining the notion that I really could make that happen if I wanted to.

Don’t you? Came a deep rumble from my psyche, the familiar crescendo of energy as Synt’s attention was piqued.

Don’t you start, I warned, still thinking of Blake and his now very well endowed friend. Finesse, subtlety, I added, knowing full well Synt cared nothing for the concept.

But didn’t I? In the haze of lust, I couldn’t shake the hypothetical of Lee with a truly impossible monster cock, and a corresponding body that shattered doorways rather than ducking through them. Was it Synt’s idea or my own? Was there a difference?

I was brought back to the present by a sudden absence. My hole ached with need as Lee’s meaty fingers were withdrawn, moving to caress my torso as he maneuvered his unwieldy dick into place, stroking up and down he pumped out a steady stream of slick precum. He was already starting to moan softly as he slowly worked inch after inch after inch of his schlong inside of me. Ever the scientist, he had last measured his growth at 15.25 inches, but personal experience told me it had definitely grown a little more since then. He settled into a steady pace, holding my body gingerly with his strong arms, leaning in periodically to nuzzle against my lips.

“Is that good?” he asked.

“Harder,” I muttered, the pleasure from his cock stretching my walls only leading to a deeper and deeper need.

“Like this?” he said, picking up the pace, letting more of his strength come through as he thrust into me.

“Harder,” I breathed, feeling the familiar taste of power, the crackle across my throat.

“Mmhm,” said Lee, audibly putting in some effort as he pounded into me, his gigantic hands digging into the globes of my ass cheeks, giving them a hard slap periodically.

“Harder,” I grunted, feeling some sort of release as I had the acute image of Lee’s pelvis corded with muscle, his hips and glutes flexing with vascularity as he pumped with inhuman power.

He made a sound that was some cross between confusion and pleasure, losing control as he jackhammered into me with animalistic lust. He dug his hands in under my thighs and lifted me up bodily, impaling me on his dick as his hips went into overdrive. He roared as both of us reached climax, shooting ropes of cum as his hips continued to buck involuntarily. After the last shudders of orgasmic release, he slowly came back to his senses, pulling his softening dick out of my hole.

“Was that…you?” he asked, his hands exploring a slightly more developed muscularity than what had been the reality earlier that night.

“...I think so.”

—

I found myself in Lee’s lab early the next morning reflecting on what exactly had developed last night. Of course I was used to dipping into Synt’s power to change people, but this was different. More direct in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.

Lee was bouncing around with some extra pep in his step, his usual lumbering movements now imbued with much more grace and poise. One would find it hard to believe that just 12 hours previous he was rearranging my guts with wild abandon. His bubble butt filled out his form fitting khakis, glute and hip muscles becoming all the more apparent every time he squatted down to look at something more closely with his co-PI, Armand. At 5’6”, Armand was almost two feet shorter than the literal giant with whom he ran the paranormal research lab in the basement of the Center. I sat patiently, coffee in hand, watching them navigate the space and prep things for that morning’s procedures.

Lee and Armand had taken it upon themselves to help me study how Synt’s power worked and what kinds of research implications it might have. Lee was wildly enthusiastic about the possibilities presented by the deity in my head whose capabilities were seemingly only limited by the imagination of the host. Armand, if a little annoyed by being there earlier than the start of their usual workday, was more interested in how this development, if presented the right way, could secure some more reliable long-term research funding for the entire institute.

After all, the lab could use a makeover. It was kind of a drab, slapdash mix of alchemical and traditional scientific instruments, slowly cluttering into a maze of in-progress and semi-forgotten projects and experiments. One wall was an entire blackboard covered in a collage of equations, mathematical proofs, ancient grammars, bits of poetry, and a running list of takeout places that after many late night deliveries knew Lee and Armand by name. It at least drew the eye away from the rest of the color scheme, which consisted of specific shades of blue and sherbet-beige that one might see at a hospital or some sort of mystical DMV. But it was Lee’s high voltage magic lab. A cleanroom as he calls it.

I was crammed into an office chair at the center of a circle whose circumference featured sigils across multiple human and inhuman languages, each one glowing and fading lightly in slow sequence. I know a protective ward when I see one, and this formed an invisible, magically impermeable sphere. I sat in the middle of the snow globe, wondering what might get knocked loose were someone to come along and shake it, as Lee and Armand set about their final preparatory tasks. Lee was adjusting the angles of what looked like modified environmental sensors, following the wires back to his desktop to check that they were working. A cluster of wires ran not along the floor, but up to the ceiling and above the circle, dropping down and hooking into a brain scan helmet that sat lightly on my head. Armand was fiddling with what was certainly a decades-old fax machine, outputting a slow but continuous stream of paper while chittering softly to itself and occasionally jotting down little dots and symbols. According to Armand, it’s a device that “picks up magical grammars in ambient space and translates them into textual data for further analysis,” but I still think it just looks like a fax machine. He was not amused by this.

Our routine many mornings was me in the evil snow globe, relaying messages between Lee, Armand, and Synt as they tried to experiment with ways to activate, measure, or at least gather data on the texture of Synt’s magic. Bursts of erotic, body morphing energy were beyond impressive, but wildly unpredictable, and the research team wanted to start small and controlled. We had made little to no progress. It’s not exactly a thing that I can just turn on and off and Synt doesn’t particularly care or even see the point of all this. These little science experiments are a blip on their radar and we probably seem like anxious primates hitting things with sticks. Which to a certain extent is true.

This morning was no different than the others. After enough failed attempts and false positives, Lee sighed, shaking his head at the monitor perched on his modified standing desk.

“I need some caffeine,” he yawned, loping off toward the exit and, I assumed, the coffee shop on the ground floor upstairs.

I was left with Armand, standing hands on hips, staring intently at his fax machine as if, with enough silent pleading, it may just start speaking English. It continued its indecipherable chittering, spitting out snippets of static on the page.

“Did you get a fax?” I asked. “From the cosmos?” widening my eyes for emphasis.

“It’s not–we’re getting basically background radiation and ambient noise. Nothing that really tells us anything,” he said, turning to glance at Lee’s computer. Armand awkwardly adjusted his lab partner’s standing desk, waiting impatiently for it to lower to his height. Eventually, he relented and grabbed a step stool just so he could read the data, shooting me an annoyed glance at having to have an audience for what seemed like a daily ordeal between them.

“So you didn’t feel anything this whole session? No surges of otherworldly power?” he asked.

“I felt hungry,” I responded. “Haven’t heard much from Synt.”

“But Lee said yesterday evening you did it without even trying,” said Armand, scratching the scruff on his chin in thought.

My heart skipped a beat as I imagined Lee informing Armand about how he got his new power thrust pelvis as if it were anecdotal data, before I realized, “Oh, you mean Blake!”

“Yeah, that was his name. The park ranger guy. He’s been emailing me about some abandoned site out in the forest, I need to look into it. But you changed him just by what? Thinking about it?”

“Thinking isn’t really an apt descriptor of what Synt does,” I thought out loud. Armand had settled into a flat footed squat in front of the cosmic fax machine, on the edge of the ring of sigils. He was staring not quite at me, but at the space around me, as if Synt might materialize from my aura. “Sometimes it feels like the way their mind works is itself a sort of manipulation of space and time. Maybe the way all of our minds work, when you think about it.” The fax sputtered something out, but I couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or dissension. Armand’s eyes glanced at the printout then back at me.

“But you channeled that manipulation deliberately, right? Not just specifically to Blake, but specifically to his glutes.”

“Not just that, but yeah. I sort of focused the energy and…released.”

“And what did that feel like?”

“Like…singing?” The familiar feeling danced around my vocal chords. Synt perked up in anticipation.

“Singing. Ok.” Armand began to bounce slightly in his deep squat, which I’d come to realize meant he was on to something. As he mulled over this new bit of information, his eyes traced one of the sigils on the floor. Mine, however, were locked on to the bulge made more prominent by his stance. I could always tell Armand was packing something, and under ‘normal’ circumstances his bulge would be the focus of anyone’s attention, but it was an afterthought with Lee carrying around an unmistakable pipe in his pants.

“Have you done any work on metaphysical harmonics?” he asked.

“I’ve taught the basics, but it’s not something I deal with a lot in my research,” I said. “Bouncing different planes and dimensions off of each other by fiddling with the right frequencies and resonances, that sort of thing.”

“I’ll have to dust it off, but I think we do have the equipment for it,” said Armand. “Maybe instead of brute force reality shifting, Synt is actually doing something much more subtle and graceful, like moving through the pages of a higher dimensional flipbook. Which would explain why Lee, for one, is so good at carrying such big…changes.”

I don’t know why I said what I said next. I had that taste of possibility on my tongue and you know who was pushing at the back of my consciousness, dangling a small invitation to play with the warp of the universe, compelling me to blurt out “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got him beat.” With a wink no less.

A few things happened. One, I did manage to catch the feeling of that spark of power in my throat being released in a very specific direction, straight to the crotch which I had been trying to not look at in my early morning haze. Two, the fax machine printed out what looked like a poem of some mix of text, symbols, and glyphs before proceeding to rewind the spool of paper on its own and carry on printing blanks like nothing happened.

And three, while Armand was watching his precious sensor apparatus misbehave yet again, the bulge in his slacks began to bulge even more. Like, really bulge, unspooling down his leg. To the naked eye, it looked like he was somehow oblivious to the fact that his dick was expanding in real time to over twice the amount of space it had just been taking up in his chinos, the mushroom head becoming distinct against the fabric and his balls alone putting catastrophic pressure on the stitching along the seam. Except, if one would look closer–though that would be rude–they might notice the seam continuously adjusting on its own.

I watched his package inflate as he seemingly didn’t register the changes at all. But through the other sight of Synt’s perspective, it was as if the area around his crotch, and to a lesser extent the area around his body was pixelating, shifting, and falling back into place piece by piece over and over again, resulting in a visibly larger and larger bulge until…what?

You’ve got him beat, said Synt, quoting my earlier comment with what felt like a sly smile. I had been through enough by now to know that the next move was not to investigate the prodigious member in front of me but instead reflect on the timeline–New? Altered? Unclear–that I now found myself in.

“I guess you’re right,” said Armand, “but Lee still wears it better.”

I guess I had gotten relatively used to it because we were co-workers, but Armand has by far one of the biggest dicks I’ve ever seen. Not that I had ever actually seen it, but the bulge snaking down his leg was obscene on his small frame. Even with what I assume were tailored pants, it was unavoidable and unwieldy, drawing stares and even comments in public, much to introverted Armand’s annoyance. I kind of felt bad for the guy. Rumor has it that when fully erect it’s a whopping 16 inches, somehow just slightly bigger than Lee’s schlong, which though impossible to miss, still blended in better on a frame that was two feet taller.

If what Armand had surmised was true, and Synt had let their hands play across a multidimensional keyboard, then we had been moving through proximal dimensions in which Armand wasn’t actually growing, but simply had a bigger and bigger dick for whatever reason, following the path of least resistance until he arrived at a size that beat Lee’s, and my offhand comment proved true. I loosely wondered when Noah would get his hands on him, if he hadn’t already.

Armand rose out of his squat to head to the board and add the metaphysical harmonics angle to the parking lot of working hypotheses. His gait was wider and a little awkward, but he wasn’t adjusting to his new size so much as he had already been used to it for years. Had I progressed to what Synt had been doing in my class this past semester? Moving beyond brute force changes and reworking the time stream itself? What else had I inadvertently changed about Armand’s life? What other elements of his social, romantic, or work lives had been altered in unpredictable ways by his inexplicably massive cock?

I needed more caffeine. As Lee came strolling back into the lab, I rushed past him, bounding up the side stairwell to the ground floor and the conveniently placed coffee shop. This wasn’t the most high traffic part of campus, so even during the morning rush, the baristas were bleary eyed and underwhelmed, snapping awake as I lumbered up to the counter.

“Oh, hi, what can I, uh, get started for you?” asked a barista across the counter who was not one of the usuals, made obvious by the fact that he clearly did not expect to be staring up at a man in leggings and a plaid skirt who loomed a full head taller than him.

“Just a dirty chai, and can you throw in an extra espresso shot…Jamal?” I asked, leaning awkwardly to read his nametag.

“Gotcha!”

I still felt disoriented, standing in a sleepy coffee shop having just manipulated space and time through the power of horniness. We may have finally cracked the code for at least a piece of the mechanism of what Logan had been doing originally on accident. The implications were staggering for our understandings of physics, metaphysics, reality itself. I had no idea how far the possibilities went and it sent a chill down to spine to think of what could happen on accident, let alone on purpose, but to be honest I felt powerful. And incredibly horny.

The familiar aftershock of arousal finally hit me, a deep, tingly, insatiable hunger that I quickly realized I would need to find some way to take care of this morning. Lee was right downstairs and this wouldn’t be the first time we fucked in some back corner of the basement. I wondered if Armand might want to prove the rumors true and hit a spot even his lab partner couldn’t reach. I shivered at the thought of almost a foot and a half of rock hard cock jutting off his slim, twinkish body, a completely absurd image of it bobbed in the air as he walked towards me.

“Um, excuse me?” Jamal, with an intonation that implied that hadn’t been the first time he’d tried to get my attention in the past 30 seconds, and he didn’t much care but a line was starting to form. “Can I get a name for that?”

“Oh! Um, sorry. David,” I said. “The only giant in the coffee shop. Can’t miss me,” I added with an awkward laugh.

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised. There was just a guy in here who had to be like seven and a half feet, I don’t even know. Like freak show tall,” eyes widened and hands splayed out.

“Not nearly as tall as you, right?” I responded without missing a beat. “You’ve got what, a foot and a half on him?”

In my defense I was horny. And in an experimental mood. And a little annoyed at the quip about my friend. And in retrospect, starting to get drunk on power.

But Synt got the message loud and clear, and I watched the fabric of spacetime pixelating and refocusing around Jamal as I craned my neck up and up and up to his wire rimmed glasses catching the reflection of mid morning light.

A blush across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so,” he muttered, with a slight smile and a roll of his eyes. “That chai will be right up.”

#male tf #ass growth #butt growth #dick growth #growth

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eleni-cherie · 1 year

Text

among thieves ✨ || bts • pjm

- epilogue

"what even am I to you? your rival, your lover, an obstacle or am I supposed to be your coffin?"

about two thieves who can't live with nor without each other. and a joint past that comes back to threaten them.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, very flirty jimin, friends/rivals/exes to lovers (it's complicated, ok?!) f2l e2l ex2l all members play a role in this story!

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

several years later

Tainan, Taiwan

Jimin took a sip from his ice coffee and flipped a page in the book he was reading.

The evening sun was bathing the building in a warm shade, a comfortably mild summer atmosphere being created. Some children ran through the streets to get to the nearest park with lots of laughter and screams. Almost bumping into two women who were chatting while carrying their groceries.

He turned another page when sensing someone taking a seat on the free chair on the other side of his table. He didn't need to look up to know who it was though. The café being not overly crowded, and he had already seen him enter from the corner of his eye.

"You finally found me."

"Who said I ever lost track of you?"

Jimin perked up with a lopsided smirk, arching a brow at him. "What took you so long then?"

Seokjin laughed out, shaking his head. "Choosing a country that isn't an interpol member to settle down.. you knew what you were doing."

Closing the book on his lap, he took another sip from his coffee.

"Oh, is that so? I just came here for the nice weather," he said innocently, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he looked at his former antagonist. It felt strange somehow, having him simply sit there casually next to him without him trying to arrest him. Who would've thought a day like this would ever come. "And how comes you pay me a visit now?"

The older man shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "Been awhile since the last time I saw you, so I thought why not spending my vacation here?'"

Jimin nodded understanding and smiled at him. "And how've you been?"

He shrugged. "Oh, you know.. after you guys became inactive, it became quite boring."

"Aw."

"No, that wasn't a compliment."

"It sounded like one though."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Seokjin sighed, "But you know, it became boring and you know, I ain't getting younger either. So after I got married, I decided to take it easier and stepped down from the leader position. I focus more on paperwork now."

Jimin's eyes widened in shock as he straightened himself. Unable to imagine some random office sitter in the leader position. "And who's the leader in the theft divison now?"

"Blake."

"Oh!" he exclaimed and relaxed into his previous position, "I can see that. She always seemed eager to prove herself to you."

"And she did."

"Kinda sad for Jungkookie though, isn't it?"

"Nah," Seokjin waved at him, shaking his head, "He never was interested in that position. He still works there with her though."

Jimin couldn't keep himself from laughing at the thought of Skylar and Jungkook together and her giving him orders while he obeyed like a good subordinate. "You know, I always felt like the two were into each other and ever since I tried setting them up.."

A teasing grin spread on Seokjin's features. "Since when are you so invested in other people's love life?"

He only shrugged and dragged a dramatic sigh. "Can't help it, I'm such a romantic."

Seokjin laughed under his breath. "To be honest, I sometimes felt the same," he admitted then, "And I still think it whenever I catch them looking at each other. Perhaps it was their professionalism that kept them from going further."

"Or perhaps they're just dating in secret."

He perked up at this, seeing Jimin wiggling his brows at him. "You think so?"

"I might or might not have my sources."

The older man laughed out, nodding. "Well, good for them then."

"But wait!" Jimin exclaimed then, suddenly having processed something else. "You said you got married? To Yongsun?"

Seokjin's eyes widened, realising he had indeed mentioned it. He bit back a smile, confirming it again with a quick nod. "Yeah.."

"And I wasn't invited to the wedding?" Jimin faked offence to which Seokjin grinned.

"Figured you wouldn't have wanted to get arrested."

"True. But since you only met her thanks to me, I still think I deserved it."

"It surely wasn't thanks to you.."

"Now, don't be so unfair," Jimin pouted, "You wouldn't have been at that ship if I hadn't planned to steal the 'black star'." He was referring to the party a CEO of one of the biggest korean companies had thrown for his wife's birthday two years ago. And that wife had happened to own a very valuable black pearl, which she was wearing on a spray brooch and which the gang had been after. "So technically, I deserved an invitation."

Seokjin groaned in annoyance, getting tired of their quarrel. "You know what? I take it back. It's been great since you retired. I finally got some peace."

"Rude considering I practically introduced you to her."

"You didn't 'introduce' her to me!" Seokjin objected with a laugh, "You pushed her on me when I was running after you!"

"Still counts - you're married now, aren't you?" Jimin pointed out with a sly grin.

He wasn't able to disagree with that. So he gave up with an exhausted sigh.

"So?" Seokjin coughen then in hopes of changing topics and looked around. "And where's the rest?"

"Thought you had kept track on all of us."

"I did," he corrected, "But since interpol doesn't have any resources here, it wasn't too easy and there're some gaps."

Jimin hummed, stirring his coffee with the straw.. "Well, Taehyungie and his wife live nearby."

"You mean Cassandra?"

"Oh, you even got her name! Impressive!"

"Aish, stop with the sarcasm! Of course I know all your associates! I hunted you guys for years after all." Seokjin rolled his eyes before adding with a smirk, "And I was pretty good at it."

Jimin couldn't stop laughing, finding it always amusing how his opponent reacted when getting upset. "Never doubted your skills."

"So the two live nearby."

He nodded. "Yeah, she works at a hospital here."

"And Yoongi?"

"Right now, he's at one of the temples in the mountains. Meditating, training or whatever," Jimin snorted, drinking the last bit of coffee. He always found it quite lame whenever Yoongi got in one of his 'monk moods' - as Jimin called them - every few years and just disappeared for awhile to disconnect from everything. But perhaps he was just a little envious of that skill, since he himself could never do it. "But knowing him, he'll be back in the city in a few weeks."

Seokjin hummed. The corners of his lips shaping a cocky smile. "Needless to ask where Arabella ended up, right?"

"Right," a grin tucking on Jimin's full lips. His glance falling down to his watch then. "I'm actually waiting here for her. She should come any minute now."

"To be honest," Seokjin began then with a light frown on his soft features, "I always knew you guys would retire some day. I just assumed it'd be along with me."

"Well, you know we aren't in our early twenties anymore and besides.. some priorities shifted with time."

Seokjin hummed. Understanding it in a way. After all, same applied to him by now. Still he couldn't help wondering what priorities had changed for Jimin and why.

A black Harley Davidson came to an abrupt halt in front of them then. Arabella taking her helmet off, her hair swaying as it fell over her shoulders.

"Bella-baby, you're late!"

"I said around six, not exactly. Not my fault you came here too early," she huffed. Her eyes widening when spotting the man next to him. "Pops, you here?"

She was actually quite happy to see Seokjin again, having kind of missed him - as weird as it sounded. She had been so used of having him always on their back, it was weird it wasn't the case anymore.

Seokjin, however, didn't seem as pleased. The old nickname cuasing him to roll his eyes. "Seriously, when will you guys ever quit calling me 'pops'?"

"Probably never, it's your nickname for a reason after all."

He laughed under his breath. "You never told me the reason though."

Arabella and Jimin exchanged a look, giggling. "Isn't it obvious? You were always running after us and scolding us. Like a dad."

"And you're older than us, so it fit."

He was speechless for a moment. In a way that stupid nickname that he had secretly grown fond of, made sense. It was even somehow cute, in a very weird and twisted way. He coughed then, feeling his ears becoming red. "I've got to go now," he announced and stood up, "Can't let Yong wait alone for too long. See you guys." He waved at them as he walked away. Only to shortly turn around then with a smirk. "Oh, but before I forget.. You don't coincidentally know anything about that stolen jade statue that is all over the local newpapers?"

Arabella and Jimin looked at each other, before giving him an innocent shrug. Shaking their heads. "No, why would we? We're retired now, remember?"

"Right. Right," Seokjin let out a loud laugh. Not being convinced at all. "Well, see you then."

As he disappeared around the corner, a frowned settled on Arabella's features. "He didn't buy it, did he?"

"So what?" Jimin shrugged and picked up his book, shoving it inside his jacket. "He can't do anything about it as long as we don't leave the country."

They might've officially retired a few months ago, but that didn't mean they'd be dead. After all they'd never be the kind to be content with a 'normal' life. Even if there was no one to hunt them anymore, neither from interpol nor from any organization - Namjoon and Hoseok having liquidated 'owl inc' and its branches only a year ago - they still wanted to keep the excitement, thrill and fun. Just in smaller portions here and there.

"Anyway, let's go."

Arabella tossed him the second helmet before putting her own on and he got on the bike behind her. His arms wrapping around her waist, purposely way too high to be closer to her boobs and she rolled her eyes. Already used to his attics.

She switched the ignition button on, her foot kicking up the kickstand. "By the way," he spoke up then, propping his chin on her shoulder with an arched brow as he curiously looked up to her. "Don't you think it'd be better not to drive the bike for now? You know, because of the.." His eyes pointed down at her belly before returning to her.

She kind of wanted to be annoyed at him for even suggesting this, but then again she understood his worries. She pecked his cheek. "When the bump starts showing, I will," she smiled and squeezed the clutch lever all the way to the grip. His arms tightening around her.

And they drove off.

THE END

»»»

-thank you all for reading this story! it was fun writing something totally new for once, so hope you also had fun reading it!

❗ the sequel a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg is out as well!

❗the prequel "a thief's origin ✨ || bts • kth" along with one shots for jungkook and seokjin are in the works!

- check out my other bts stories, too: here

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tinydeskwriter · 2 years

Text

Traitor- Part Two

singer!reader

TRAITOR ; EXTRA

summary: in which H and Y/n met for the first time since the break up.

word count: 2923

A/n: Y/n is mean in this one, but I swear, I tuned down from what originally was supposed to be. I know a few of you guys asked me to tag you, but in the spirit of fairness, I would ask who want to be tagged to send me a Ask, is easier for me to see you there than in the comments. As some of you may know, I already choose Y/n’s New Man, and he’ll already show up in the next Extra. Some of you asked if there is a chance os reconciliation, the answer is: I don’t think so, but… read and tell me what you think.

TRAITOR- PART TWO: Heartless.

2021, April 08.

She had chosen a light pink Zimmerman oversized dress from the 2020 collection, it had been a gift from Gemma and Anne for her birthday that year, it made her look soft and accentuated her belly with grace, she paired it with white Gucci Mule Princetown shoes, and a straw bag 'a la' Jane Birkin. Her hair was loose and brushed in beach waves. Rings covering her delicate fingers, and nails are painted a delicate shade of pink, and a large sunglasses by Dolce and Gabbana protecting her eyes.

Y/n looked very soft and motherly.

She had agreed to meet Harry at Full Stop Management's office in early April, even though Jeff told Lia that lawyers weren't needed, still, the manager knew better than to take his word for it, the woman, who had managed Y/n's career for the past ten years, categorically stated that Jeff and Harry would have a full team in the room, publicist, lawyers, the whole circus, it was after much insistence that the singer agreed to Camilla's presence at the meeting. Now Camilla might look harmless in her ultra-feminine clothes and flashy Louboutin heels, but the woman was a shark, not just any kind, in court she was reputed to be a cannibal, a shark that devours other sharks.

Y/n really hoped there was a team waiting for them, she didn't want to be seen as the person who was going for the attack. So far all her actions have been carefully planned to not be seen as aggressive.

The singer was accompanied by her manager, her personal assistant, and Niall —who had been staying at her house since she returned to LA, Zayn and Gigi had also been seen in town with their friend, a rare sighting in the case of the Bradford bad boy—, two bodyguards went together to make the security of the two Brits in case of the presence of paparazzi and fans.

It's safe to say that Y/n was surrounding herself with friends with all the publicity that now surrounded her breakup.

Whenever the singer was seen in public, she was accompanied by friends, and loyal friends at that, who quickly surrounded her to protect her from the paparazzi lens and the harassment of fans. Kendall had shielded her friend with her coat and glared at the paparazzi when the two were photographed in Santa Monica; Justin had asked for respect and for them to back off as he guided Y/n to the car with Hailey just behind on the exit from Nobu; Dakota wasn't afraid to show the middle finger when the paparazzi screamed for them as they left a little café in Malibu; hidden between Florence Welch and Mark being led away from the crowd, while Lady Gaga chatted with fans; she was snapped by fans shopping for children's items with Taylor Swift and Blake Lively in a nice little boutique in Manhattan in late March; and she was caught casually strolling through the Farmers Market in Brooklyn accompanied by actors Pedro Pascal and Oscar Issac, with Elvira and the couple's two children a few days later.

Her friends were showing support both publicly and privately.

People she hadn't been close with before, because of Harry's insecurity, had gotten bigger roles in her life. She was finally allowing herself to have male friends who weren't mutual friends.

The Lincoln Navigator pulled up in front of the building, quickly being surrounded by paparazzi and fans, easily a crowd of a hundred people. Y/n looked at Niall as he swore.

The security guards got out of the car first, and only when they managed to clear some space between the paparazzi did the Irishman open the door, getting out first and helping his friend out. The cameras were on them the second her feet touched the ground.

They clearly had been tipped that there would be a meeting that day.

Y/n held her head high, eyes hidden by dark shades while walking behind her longtime friend, hand gripping the crook of his elbow. Niall led the way, leading the group of women into the building.

As the paparazzi took pictures they didn't throw too many invasive questions at her. There were also fans around, Y/n noticed, she smiled faintly and waved at some who were shouting her name in support and even accepted the flowers they offered her. In the court of public opinion Y/n was the victim, this was crystal clear, a young woman who had loved a men too much and had been cheated on and left for a new lover, a modern more Hollywood and glamorous version of what Lady Di had been.

The singer had gained five million and a half new followers on Instagram since the Grammys, and a few thousand more after her interview with Hailey.

“Jeff must be shitting bricks,” Lia smiled a little when they were safely in the lobby. “His golden boy is not so golden anymore.”

The group found Camilla already waiting in the lobby, the lawyer greeted everyone cordially, and Y/n affectionately. They headed for the elevator, the way from the ground floor to the office floor taking place in silence. When the door slid open an assistant, whom Y/n recognized by sight, but couldn't remember the name, was waiting for them, the girl smiled at them, greeted them politely and guided them to the conference room.

For the first time since December, Harry and Y/n were in the same room. His emerald eyes following her as she moved around the room.

Her ex was sitting between Jeffrey and an older man in a suit. His side of the table was filled with older men in suits, and a stern-looking woman that Y/n recognized as Karen, leader of the PR team.

"I thought we weren't going to involve lawyers, Jeff." Lia said in a sarcastic tone as she greeted the man.

At least Jeffrey had the decency to blush.

"Y/n...How are you?" The singer looked at Harry, his hoarse voice sounded almost breathless.

He looked fine, at least physically, definitely not dressed for an important meeting, his hair was cut short in a retro haircut—was probably already filming My Policeman—, and he looked tired, with bag under his eyes, she could see the guilty and sadness in his eyes. Good.

Bella had sent her the tabloid piece reporting Harry and Olivia's breakup, with pictures of the woman moving out of his rented house and all, the older woman looked miserable and sloppy —and Y/n would deny it until the end, because you never push another woman down to build yourself up, but she felt a little bit of satisfaction reading the comments about how Olivia was a downgrade compared to ‘Goddess’ looking Y/n, those are probably left by her fans, and how he had probably just settled for Olivia after the breakup—.

The young woman sat in the chair Niall pulled out for her, her hands protectively over her stomach, in an involuntary gesture.

“I am doing better now.” It was the only answer she gave, and it was already more than he deserved from her.

Harry leaned slightly across the table. "Can we please talk?" He looked at the people around them. "In private." His people seemed ready to get up and leave the room as soon as he gave the cue, but the four people accompanying Y/n looked at her, making it clear that they wouldn't move without her saying something.

Y/n sighed, taking the sunglasses off her face and laying them on the table, she looked at the man she once loved more than life itself with cold eyes. To Harry, she looked more goddess than woman, and he swallowed hard, deeply regretting all the bad choices he'd made that had led to him losing the love of his existence.

"The time for private conversations is over Harry." The woman had her eyes fixed on her ex-fiancé. "Now we're here to discuss how to go forward and move on, and leave all that happened where it belongs, in the past." They both knew she meant not just the suffering and pain he had caused her.

She meant him, and the years they'd spent together. The good and the bad. He was now only a piece of her past. He had no place in the next Act of the show that was her life. If before he had been one of the protagonists of her life story, now he had been relegated to a minor supporting character.

"I miss you, Love, everyday and every hour, I know…" There was desperation in his voice, Y/n could hear it clearly, but she came to the shocking conclusion that she didn't care.

"You have no right to miss me." She interrupted him without mercy. "That was your choice Harry, you chose this, you knew what your decisions would cause, you knew the pain you would inflict on me, and you did it anyway."

He looked at her stunned, he got so used to his sweet Y/n that he forgot she had a bite in her.

"Babe, it was a huge mistake, we could..." He tried, more desperate than ever, he wasn’t used to the coldness in her eyes being directed at him.

"We could," she agreed, some aggressiveness in her eyes, "We could have gotten over what you did, we could, I loved you enough to try, but you broke up with me and started dating her like I was nothing in your life, as if the eight years we spent together didn't matter, as if we weren't planning a wedding." The woman was looking down at him, like a queen to a dirt peasant. "So when you miss me, remember, when you had me I wasn't good enough."

Niall squeezed his friend's hand on the table in support.

Everyone around them stayed in silence, just watching the heated interaction between the former couple. It was almost pitiful too watch.

At this point there was nothing Harry could say to make her forgive him. After what he'd put her through, after how he'd made her feel… She didn't even want to talk to him, there was nothing he could say to make all his mistakes go away.

Lia cleared her throat, looking from her client to her ex cautiously.

"Okay…We are here to resolve the division of jointly acquired assets, I think it's best if we stick with that for now." Lia interrupted before either Harry or Y/n could say something else.

Jeff nodded, he's never been much for confrontations, he looked at Harry once more, the younger man looked absolutely miserable with his hand buried in his hair, but nodded in agreement to move on, his emerald eyes never leaving the woman he had shared his life with for the past eight years. Harry's manager took the folder offered by one of the lawyers.

He looked at the client one last time before his eyes focused on Y/n's face. He'd almost forgotten how gorgeous Harry's ex-fiancee was in the months since he'd last seen her. The singer had a kind of neutralizing beauty, and the pregnancy glow only seemed to accentuate it more.

"Harry has decided to give up his share of joint estate in favor of Y/n." Jeff said looking at his client's ex-fiancée, he opened a leather folder he had in front of him, reading the summary. "The £15 million Hampstead mansion in London, the $5 million Tribecca apartment in NYC, the Lake Como Villa, and the $9 million Sunset house in Los Angeles, other minor properties are also listed in the folder." The manager exhibited the portfolio with the properties and documentation already draw in the woman’s name.

Y/n scoffed, it wasn't like she needed it, her bank account was bigger than his, but Harry was so predictable in his guilt, she knew this was him trying to minimize her anger, to buy her forgiveness, letting her keep the houses she had carefully made into homes for them during the last few years. As if in eight years he hadn't known her well enough to know she didn't care for material things.

But she knew, it was also about the babies, even if they haven’t gone there yet.

Jeff slides the folder into Lia’s direction.

"You just need to sign." The lawyer sitting next to Harry said offering her a pen.

Lia passed the folder for Camilla to read.

Y/n looked at Harry, she was still wearing her mask of coldness. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"It's the least I can do," He said with a barely perceptible smile, "I know how much you love these houses, and how much you've put into making them a home, it wouldn't be right..."

It wouldn't feel right for him to continue living in them, or to take someone to live with him. That was a line he never crossed, he never tried to take Olivia to one of the houses he had acquired with Y/n.

"A house is just a building Harry, that was never what I really cared about." Y/n said, but signed the papers when Camilla gave her the OK, the singer took the pen and signed the sheets on the marked dotted lines.

"It's not like I'll be able to live in any of them now, anyway, too many memories..."

"Sell it, have it demolished, set it on fire, they're yours to do with what you want," the man said running a hand through his hair in despair. "This is me trying, Y/n/n, but I don't know what to do to get your forgiveness, what gesture, what to say..."

Y/n glanced in Camilla's direction briefly, and the lawyer simply picked up the folder she had brought with her and pushed it towards Harry's lawyer.

The pregnant woman watched the lawyer read the document with a stoic expression, looking from Camilla to Y/n from moment to moment, the man wiped the sweat from his forehead before leaning towards Harry and Jeff, and explaining in a whisper what the document was about.

“Y/n…” Harry stared at her with questioning eyes, hurt written all over his face.

"That's it H, that's the way to my forgiveness, it won't happen now, but eventually..." She shrugged and said in an emotionless tone, looking at him with a bored expression.

"This is basically me giving up my unborn children." Harry said swinging the folder over the table.

"That's you giving me control." Y/n said calmly. "That's you respecting my choices and decisions, this is you trusting me like I always used to trust you."

“Are you this bitter and heartless?”

“Oh, you didn't go there...” She said with a bitter laugh, shaking her head and briefly looking at the table before looking up and facing Harry. "I had a heart, it was kind, soft, big, and trusted blindly, but I gave it to the wrong person, and that person was careless with it, and now I have a broken heart." Every word she uttered was like an insult to the man in front of her. "This, right here, is the result of your carelessness, I used to think you were the best man among men, now I realize that you're not that bloody great." The calm with which she spoke, made it even worse. "I'd rather be heartless than have my heart broken by someone who doesn’t deserve it."

Silence hung over the conference room until it was interrupted by one of Harry's lawyers.

"We can fight for custody in court..."

Y/n turned his head towards the lawyer like a snake ready to attack.

"You do it, I dare you." The pregnant woman smiled predatorily. "I'm not someone that can be threatened, or put into a corner, I have the financial means to drag out a legal battle for years, and I want to see you find a judge here or in England who would take away custody of my children in Harry’s favor." She turned to Jeff. "And in the meantime, H is going to be convicted in the court of public opinion, his career is going to suffer, because if you guys try to come against me, this was just the beginning, the EP, the interview... I'll do worse, you never saw me being mean, I'm going to turn it into an album, I'm going to Oprah, I'm going to drag his and her name through the proverbial mud."

She never looked more like the lioness Louis joked she was than at that moment.

It was already an unspoken rule around haute couture dress-rooms: if designers wanted to see their pieces showcased by Y/n and her friends, Olivia was persona non grata. It wasn't something Y/n started, but Kendall and Bella were petty enough in her name.

"I don't want you in my life, it still hurts to look at your face." The singer sighed and said more calmly, this time looking at Harry. "And I can't say that I'll forgive you, or that one day I'll be ok with co-parenting with you, but I have no intention of banning Anne and Gemma's access to the twins, and that's the best I can offer right now."

Harry sighed in agreement with a sad smile, he had tears in his eyes and ran his hands over his face before picking up the pen from the table and pulling the papers towards him.

He stared at the dotted line for a few minutes before scribbling his signature.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles

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