#//i'll make up for it with my next one when it comes to effort promise

[loversrocktvgirl2]

THAT ONE SONG "i'll never smile again, until i smile at you" but it's 1940's!bucky and reader during the war </3

i have gone CRAZY.

this is way more than you expected i’m sure so AHHH OKAY

my mini multiverse of madness…

I’ll Never Smile Again Until I Smile At You (Bucky x Reader)

word count: 3.7k+ (i know, i went MAD)

a/n - work be damned, this is my productivity for the day

masterlist

Dear Bucky,

I miss you more than I know how to say. It hasn’t been all that long since you left, I know—but it feels like there’s a you-shaped ache following me everywhere I go. I think about you all the time. Are you doing alright? Are you safe? How’s the food—half-decent, I hope? And the boys you’re with—have any of them made you laugh? Have you made any new friends? You always do. Tell me everything.

Things are alright back home. I’m keeping busy, doing what I can to help with the war effort, and I finally landed that secretary job I told you about. It’s steady work—lots of typing, lots of organizing. Honestly, I kind of like it. There’s something satisfying about it, and the women I work with are kind. It’s not glamorous, but it feels like I’m doing something that matters, even in a small way.

And when this war is finally over—when you come home to me—we’ll get married, just like we talked about. I’ll pack up and move out, and we’ll have a little place of our own. I love my parents, I do, but oh, I crave the kind of life we dream about. Quiet mornings, late nights, and the freedom to build a life together, just the two of us.

Please be safe, Bucky. Write when you can. I miss your jokes, your voice, your smile. I love you, more than ever.

Love you forever and miss you like hell, 

Your sweetheart,

Y/N

— — — 

Y/N,

I read your letter three times before I even put it down. I think I smiled the whole first time through, then teared up the second, and by the third, I was just holding it to my chest like I could somehow hold you too. You have no idea what hearing from you does to me out here. It’s like breathing in after being underwater too long.

I’m alright. Really. I promise. Things are tough, sure, but I’m managing. The food’s nothing to write home about—unless you want to hear about gray stew and bread that could double as a paperweight. I’ve gotten used to it, though. The guys in my unit are a mixed bag. Some quiet, some loud, some who never stop talking about girls back home. One of ‘em reminds me of Steve back in the day—skinny but scrappy, always trying to pick a fight with something twice his size. I’ve made a couple friends. Not the same as my folks back home, but good men.

I’m so proud of you for getting that job. I really am. I can picture you there—sitting at your desk, typing with that look of quiet determination on your face. I bet you’re the smartest one in the whole office. You always were. It makes me feel better knowing you’ve got something to hold onto while I’m gone. I know it’s not easy, this in-between part. It sure as hell isn’t easy on me. But your words make it feel a little less far away.

I think about that life we talk about all the time—how it’ll be when I get home. I think about waking up next to you, reading the paper over breakfast, dancing in the kitchen while we burn dinner. I’d give anything to have that right now. I want to marry you the second I step off the train, dirt and all. I don’t care if we’ve got a big ceremony or if it’s just us and the stars. I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Be safe, sweetheart. Take care of yourself for me. And keep writing. Your letters mean more to me than I could ever say. You’re the brightest thing in all this mess. I carry your words with me everywhere.

All my love—forever and then some, Bucky

P.S. I keep your picture in my breast pocket. Guys tease me for it, but I don’t care. You’re right here with me, always.

— — — 

Bucky,

I got your letter today, and I swear I didn’t breathe until the last word. I sat down on the porch with a glass of lemonade and read it over and over, smiling like a fool, laughing a little, crying a lot. You’re still you, even across a sea and a war and all this waiting. I could hear your voice in every word.

It means everything to know you’re okay. Not just surviving, but managing to find slivers of comfort—some friends, even bad food, and a boy who sounds like Steve. I hope those guys know how lucky they are to have you in their unit. You’ve always looked out for people, even when you tried to act like you didn’t. I bet you’re doing it now too.

I’m glad you’ve made friends, though I wish they weren’t needed in the first place. I’d give anything to be one of them right now, to sit beside you, shoulder to shoulder, even if it was freezing cold and we had nothing but that awful bread you mentioned. (You’d probably try to trade yours for mine. You always were sneakier than you let on).

The job’s going well. I type like a woman possessed. The women at the office are sharp and funny and loud, and there’s always a pot of burnt coffee going. I like them. We share stories—well, they mostly share, and I mostly smile and listen and think of you. But the days go faster when I’m busy, and that’s a blessing.

Your words about our future… Bucky, I read that part and just pressed my hand to my heart. I could see it all—the quiet mornings, the burned dinners, the dancing in the kitchen. You stepping off the train and pulling me into your arms before anyone can say a word. I'd marry you that very minute, in a muddy field or on a city rooftop, in borrowed clothes or bare feet. Just promise me you’ll come back. That’s all I need.

I’m writing you every week. Some of the letters might get lost or take a while, but I’ll keep sending them like breadcrumbs until you find your way home. You’re the best part of my every day, Bucky. I fall asleep thinking about you, wake up hoping for you, and count the days until I can see that smirk of yours in person again.

Take care of yourself. Be safe. And don’t let the teasing get to you—not about my picture, not about anything. If they tease you, it means they see it too: that there’s something special waiting for you back home. Me.

With all the love I have to give, Your girl (Soon to be your wife—don’t you forget it.)

P.S. I tucked a pressed daisy into this letter. Picked it this morning while thinking of you. It made me smile. I hope it does the same for you.

— — —

Hey sweetheart,

Your letter came yesterday, and I swear it felt like Christmas morning. I sat on my bunk and read it right then and there, didn’t care who saw me grinning like an idiot. And the daisy—you’re something else. I tucked it into my journal so it wouldn’t get crushed. You said it made you smile—well, mission accomplished, because I haven’t stopped since.

Hearing from you… it helps more than I can explain. Some days out here are alright, and some just aren’t, but reading your words makes me feel like I’m home for a little while. Like I can still smell your perfume on my jacket, hear you laughing from the other room.

I’m hanging in. Things are tough sometimes, yeah, but I’ve got some good guys around me. You’d like them. There's one named Harris, from Illinois—he plays harmonica at night, badly, but he tries. Said to tell you, “Your fella won’t stop talking about you—he’s got it bad.” Then there’s Thompson, always cracking jokes and stealing extra rations when he thinks no one’s looking. He asked me if you have a sister. (Don’t worry—I told him no. Even if you did, he’s not your type.)

I’ve started calling this one guy “Red” because his hair is so bright it’s like he’s got a flare on his head. He writes letters home to his dog. Swears the dog understands English. We all just let him have it.

I’ve shown your letter to the guys (just the parts that won’t embarrass you too much), and now you’ve got fans over here. Harris says you sound like a “dame with a good head on her shoulders,” which is the highest compliment he gives. Red said if I don’t marry you fast enough, he’s coming back to New York to do it himself. I told him he’d have to go through me first.

I'm glad work’s going well. I love hearing about it—makes me picture you moving through your day, tapping away at that typewriter with that little look you get when you're focused. Bet you’re running circles around everyone else in that office. I don’t care what kind of work it is—if you’re doing it, you make it look good.

About that wedding—look, the second I’m off this train and back in your arms, we’re making it happen. I don’t care if it’s in a church or the corner of your parents' backyard with your dad holding up a sheet for shade. I want it to be you and me, nothing fancy, just real.

Keep writing, okay? Even when you’re tired. Even if all you’ve got to say is that you had a sandwich and the office coffee was burnt again. I’ll take every word.

I love you. More than I say in these letters, probably more than you realize. But I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you once I get back.

Always yours, Bucky

P.S. Thompson says if you do have a sister, he apologizes for the “not your type” comment and would like a second chance. I told him to dream on.

— — — 

Hi, soldier,

I got your letter today and nearly knocked over the mailbox getting to it. You’d think I was waiting on news from the president the way I ran back inside to read it. But it wasn’t the president—it was you, and that’s a thousand times better.

You’ve officially won over the hearts of my office, by the way. I read part of your letter aloud during lunch, and now all the girls are swooning. Maggie from the next desk over said, “If he has a brother, I’ll take him sight unseen.” I told her no brothers, but apparently, there’s a guy named Thompson out there who’s eager to be introduced?

Tell Thompson I’m flattered, truly, but if he thinks I’m going to trade down, he’s out of luck. Still, he sounds like a hoot. I imagine he’s the kind of guy who somehow always ends up with the last slice of pie and the last word. Keep an eye on him—I bet he’s trouble in a poker game.

And Harris! Please tell him I appreciate the compliment and that I like a man with bad taste in harmonica music and good taste in people. Red, too—I don’t know if it’s the war or the dog letters, but that boy has wormed his way into my heart. I love that you’ve got a crew. It makes it a little easier to sleep at night, knowing you’re not alone out there. Good men, by the sound of it.

Things here are the usual. The office coffee was burnt again, and the typewriter jammed right in the middle of an important memo, so that was exciting. But the days move, and I fill them best I can. I baked last weekend—burnt the edges, of course, but I saved the soft middles and thought of you. I keep looking at the calendar, counting the days until I can stop writing letters and start telling you everything in person again.

Your talk of the wedding made my heart skip. Backyard or borrowed church, I don’t care. You come home safe, and I’ll be wherever you are, veil or no veil, dress or just my good Sunday shoes. I want the rest of my life to start with you stepping off that train.

I miss you something fierce, Bucky. Some days I hold that last letter to my chest just to feel close to you, the way I used to when you’d wrap your arms around me and hum whatever song was stuck in your head. I can still hear it sometimes.

So—tell Harris to keep playing, Red to write one for me next, and Thompson... well, tell him he can be the best man if he behaves himself.

All my love, always, Y/N

P.S. I’m tucking a photo in with this one—me in my work clothes, hair a mess, smiling anyway. It’s not fancy, but it’s real. Just like us.

— — — 

Sweetheart,

You should’ve seen the look on my face when your letter came in. The others say I’ve got a “Y/N face” now—just this dumb, soft grin I apparently only wear when I’m reading something from you. I won’t deny it.

Thompson read over my shoulder, which I told him not to do, but that never stops him. He got to the part where you called him “trouble in a poker game” and said, “She gets me. I always knew I had a certain charm.” Then he tried to tell me it was only fair that I let him write the next letter to you. I told him if he touches my pen, I’m breaking his hand.

Harris laughed so hard he nearly fell off his cot. He says to tell you he’s “working on a new tune”—though I think “tune” is a generous word. Still, I let him play, because it makes the evenings pass a little quicker. He says if you keep writing to me, he’ll keep practicing… but no promises that he’ll get any better. Fair warning.

Red asked if your photo had any dogs in it. I said no, just the prettiest girl in the world. He gave me a look like he didn’t quite believe me, but then he saw the picture and said, “Oh. Yeah. Okay. That tracks.” You’ve officially impressed my whole squad, which is no small feat. Thompson now says you’re “too good” for me, which is rich coming from him.

I keep that photo in my front pocket now. Pulled it out the other night when I couldn’t sleep. Just seeing your face calms me down. You look so real in it—like I could reach through the page and hear your voice.

Not much new out here. We had a quiet spell, which usually means we’re due for the opposite soon. I’ve been fixing things in camp—boots, buttons, morale when I can. You always said I liked keeping people in one piece. I guess that’s still true, even here.

I daydream about you constantly. You and me at home, arguing about what to eat for dinner, me kissing the flour off your nose when you bake, you stealing all the blankets. That’s what gets me through the rough stuff. That, and your letters.

Keep writing. Keep telling me about the burnt coffee and your messy hair and all the small, wonderful things I’m missing. I want every detail. I want it all.

Love you more than I can fit on this page, Bucky

P.S. Thompson says he’ll start working on a best man speech “just in case.” I told him if he mentions himself more than twice in it, I’m kicking him out of the reception. P.P.S. Harris wants to send you a harmonica. I said no. You’re welcome.

— — — 

Bucky, my love,

You’ve got a “Y/N face”? I don’t even know what that means and yet I’m blushing so hard the girls at work noticed. They keep asking what you wrote this time. I told them you were behaving yourself, mostly. (Though I did leave out the part where Thompson tried to write to me directly—I don’t want to encourage him.)

Please tell him I’m honored to be considered “too good” for you—he clearly hasn’t seen your puppy eyes or the way you steal my fries when you think I’m not looking. Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite. Just don’t let the power go to his head, or he’ll be giving a speech at every meal.

As for Harris—if he sends me a harmonica, I’m mailing him back a tin whistle and we’ll see who breaks first. But I’m glad you’ve got them. I really am. It means everything to me to know you’ve got people who make you laugh, who make it a little less heavy over there. I picture you all gathered around, worn out but smiling, someone telling a dumb story from home. You deserve that kind of comfort. You deserve better than all this.

That photo you keep? I took it quickly, didn’t even fix my hair, and I almost didn’t send it. But knowing it’s in your pocket now—that you look at it when you can’t sleep—it makes me feel like I’m there with you. I hope it helps a little. I wish I could be there to hold your hand when it gets quiet, or when it gets too loud.

Things at home keep moving. The leaves are just starting to change, and I think of you every time I see one blow across the sidewalk. I wonder if it’s cooling off there too. I packed away my summer dresses and pulled out my sweaters, and the one you always liked—the blue one—is sitting at the end of my bed. Sometimes I wear it just because it feels like you’re hugging me from a thousand miles away.

I told my parents we’ll probably get married in the backyard. My mother’s already talking about stringing up lights and borrowing folding chairs. My dad pretended to grumble, but he smiled when he said, “That Barnes boy better come back in one piece.” They both love you. You know that, right?

Anyway—tell Red he’s got good instincts, but I’m definitely prettier than a dog. (Don’t tell him I said that too seriously. Let him keep some pride.) And tell Thompson if he gives one toast with the words “when I first met Bucky, I knew I’d have to fix him,” I’m walking out of the reception with the cake.

I miss you every day. Not in the sad, slow way, but in the constant, tugging-at-my-heart way. I miss you in the space beside me on the couch. In the seat across from me at dinner. In the way I turn to laugh and realize you’re not there—yet.

But you will be. I believe that with everything I’ve got.

All my love, always, Y/N

P.S. I included a little pressed leaf from that tree we used to sit under near the corner of 5th and Main. Remember? I thought you might like a piece of home in your journal.

— — — 

A year and seven months later…

— — — 

My love,

I don’t have long to write—just enough time to tell you the words we’ve been waiting for:

I’m coming home.

We’re on the move now. No more rumors, no more waiting. I’ve got my bag packed and my orders in hand. It feels strange—like I’ll wake up any second and it’ll all vanish. But it’s real. I’m coming back to you.

I’ll write again the second I can with more details, but I couldn’t wait. I had to tell you. I had to say it out loud.

I’m coming home to marry you. To hold your hand for real. To sit in that backyard, under those lights, and start the rest of our life.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Soon, Bucky

P.S. Tell your dad to dust off the suit. Tell your mom I’ll eat whatever she cooks. Tell yourself this isn’t a dream—it’s real, and I’m almost there.

P.P.S. I am very sorry that Thompson is on this train with me. 

— — — 

The whistle of the train echoes through the station, mixing with the chatter of soldiers and waiting families. Your heart hammers so hard you think the whole platform might hear it. You clutch the little pressed leaf in your hand like a talisman, your eyes fixed on the cars slowly slowing to a stop.

The doors hiss open, and a flood of soldiers pours out. You scan the crowd—broad shoulders, muddy boots, sun-bleached hair—until you see him. Bucky. His eyes find yours instantly, a grin spreading across his face that makes everything else fade away.

“Y/N!” he calls, breaking into a run.

You throw yourself into his arms, the world narrowing to the feel of him—solid, real, home.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

“Neither can I,” Bucky says, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You look… perfect.”

“Fluster me much?” you tease, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

Before Bucky can answer, a loud, familiar voice cuts in.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the lady who keeps a tight leash on our boy here.”

You turn to see Thompson swaggering up, tipping his hat with a grin. “Thought I’d make sure he showed up on time. Can’t have him getting cold feet.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but laughs. “Thompson, this is Y/N. Y/N, meet Thompson—the ‘best man’ who’s been practicing his speech since before we left.”

“Pleased to finally meet you,” Thompson says with a mock bow. “I promise to behave. Mostly.”

Then Harris appears, carrying a battered harmonica and grinning shyly. “Hey,” he says softly. “You must be Y/N. Bucky’s talked about you plenty.”

“I’ve heard you play a bit,” you say with a smile.

“Still rough around the edges,” Harris admits, “but maybe one day I’ll play something worth hearing.”

Red comes last, walking with a slight limp but steady eyes. He nods in greeting. “Good to meet you. Bucky’s been lucky to have you waiting.”

You smile at the circle of men who’ve kept Bucky company through the long, hard months. “Thank you all—for looking after him. For being his friends.”

Bucky squeezes your hand. “And now you get to meet the whole crew.”

Thompson claps his hands. “Alright, enough sappy stuff. Let’s get this party started. Y/N, ready to see where the real fun begins?”

Laughing through tears, you know the hardest part is over. You’re finally home.

taglist @spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13 @wpdarlingpan @puer-aurea

[0thefrogprince0]

🐸NAVEEN SINGH ||

EVERMORE WINTER MASQUERADE 2023 🐸

[gothicfied]

Hey, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a Dae-ho fic where the reader is apart of his group (with gi-hun and stuff) but used to date Thanos, who is trying to win her back. She asks the boys to help stop her from going back to him cause she can;' help but want to. Later dae ho asks why she dated thanos cause he was toxic and she admits she feels she doesn't deserve better. Dae ho confesses and promises that he will give her better. I don't know if this makes sense, but thanks :)

Why can't I let go? - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x fem!reader (maybe slight Thanos x reader)

Summary: Seeing your ex months after your break up made you question things again, but Dae-ho gave you a reason not to go back to him.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: ~ 1.6k

A/N: hi and thank you sm!! I hope this comes close to what you had in mind (:

What made being in this slaughter house even worse for you, besides the fact that you had to worry about dying every few seconds, was the fact that your literal ex boyfriend somehow also ended up here. Well, actually, you knew exactly why Thanos, as he liked to call himself now, entered the games as well — Not only did he basically bankrupt himself with investing in that stupid crypto currency, no, he took most of your savings too and created unnecessary money problems for you. That was obviously the break-up-reason, although he just wasn't the best boyfriend over all.

His presence already pissed you off when spotting him in the crowd after initially waking up in that uncomfortable bunk bed. Thanos only spotted you when walking up the weird, colorful stairs to the first game. Pushing other players to the side, he made his way up to you and tapped you on the shoulder, non-stop apologizing for what he had done to you. It has been like that since you broke things off with him, but you made the effort to block him on everything and simply not answer the door when he came by every now and then to win you back.

Thanos was annoying and dangerous, as it showed itself in Red-Light-Green-Light. Not only was he a junkie, he was also seemingly ready to sacrifice the life of other people for his own benefit. At first, when Player 456 yelled out that everyone who got 'disqualified' would essentially get shot, you didn't want to believe him. Even Thanos leaned over to you, much to your annoyance, and said "What the fuck is this guy on?". He's one to talk, huh. In the end, when Player 456 was right, you immediately took his advice and voted 'X' during the first voting.

"Thanks for saving us back there." you said to Player 456, hesitantly approaching him and his friend, Player 390. They introduced themselves as Gi-hun and Jung-bae, inviting you to sit down and eat with them. A few moments later another young man dropped down from his bed and agreed with you, also claiming that how Gi-hun acted was heroic. "Why'd you vote like that then?" you asked Dae-ho after he sat down next to you, pointing at the blue badge upon his chest. "Ah, you know," feeling like he got caught, he kept looking away from your eyes, "the money now is not nearly enough to pay off my debts. But, don't worry, I'll definitely vote different next time!" You guys continued talking and even laughing a bit, telling each other about your life outside of here.

You, alongside Jung-bae, found out that he was a marine. Both were actually, immediately finding common ground. Watching them joke around with each other, you couldn't help but smile — Which stopped as soon as you looked to the other side, to the people who voted 'O', and spotted Thanos staring at you. He was clearly not happy with how you voted or the fact that another man made you laugh, even though you only met him a few minutes ago. That's just how Thanos is, you feared: always jealous about someone, worried you're going to cheat on him, but would then flirt with his female fans in the same breath. He always claimed it was because they were his fans and they loved to feel like he was reachable, but that was never a justification for you.

For some reason, that you didn't pay attention to, a little fight between the two sides broke out, and Thanos thought this was the best time to drag you away from all that and talk with you. You saw him stand up and approach you, to which you already shook your head, but when he grabbed your arm and just took you with him, you couldn't do much. "Why would you do that?" he asked you, his eyes staring into yours. "What? What did I do now? Can't you just leave me alone?" You crossed your arms in front if your chest and just looked down at your feet, because, if you were being honest with yourself, when your ex boyfriend looked at you like that.. it kind of did something to you. Perhaps regret your decision.

"Baby, seriously?"

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Come on, I know you love it, princess.."

"Get to the point."

You were annoyed, agitated, but somehow still wanted to hear what he had to say. Thanos huffed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why did you vote like that? If we play just two more games, we could pay off our debts and maybe.. try again?" He grabbed you by your shoulders, shaking you a little so you'd look up at him again. When that didn't work, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tried to pull you close, but that was your breaking point. Forcefully, you ripped yourself out of his grasp and started walking back to your group again: "Don't even start with that. You ruined my life."

In a twisted way, you felt bad. His proposal almost, almost, made you give in. It was just nice to see a familiar face and hear a familiar voice in this environment, it brought you comfort to know that there was someone you shared so many special memories with that you could turn to. And, you would, just if it wasn't Choi Su-bong. "Is everything okay? Was he giving you trouble?" Jung-bae asked, looking like he was ready to fight him. Actually, he was probably ready to fight everyone who voted 'O'. "No.. no, I'm okay." Without another word you sat back down next to Dae-ho, picking away at your fingernails.

"Who is he?"

"What?"

"That guy.. who is he?"

"To me? My ex boyfriend."

The man let out an 'aha', just nodding along. When he looked at Thanos and then back to you, he couldn't really believe it — That purple-haired guy was almost the complete opposite of you. You were pretty, seemed to be kind and gentle and Thanos was just kind of.. Dae-ho would say you're way out of his league. "If he's bothering you, just tell me, okay? I'll take care of it." You looked at the former marine, giving him a smile when noticing that he was serious about that. You thanked him quickly and looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly.

After surviving the second game together, Dae-ho and you have gotten closer incredibly fast. He was mesmerized by you, to say the least, and you appreciated that you had someone to rely on at all times. That still didn't stop Thanos from perusing you, though, it actually was the complete opposite. A few minutes before lights out he tried to talk to you again, following you to your bed, which was right behind Dae-ho's. The two of you slept head to head together, only a metal bar separating the beds.

"Please.. just listen to me! I miss you.. I swear, I'll vote 'X' the next time!" Thanos' annoying voice rang through your ears and no matter how often you told him to leave you alone, he didn't want to understand it. At some point he got annoyed and just walked off himself, sighing and planning to try again next day. With a quiet groan, you let your head fall back against your pillow, Dae-ho watching you the whole time from his side. He felt like it wasn't his place to continue to ask you about the situation when you didn't bring it up yourself, but he was still curios as to why you'd ever be with that guy.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to say something to him next time?"

"No.. It's fine, I can handle it. It's just- complicated, that's all." You were tired, your mind was reeling — People dying was stressful enough and now you had to handle your immature and manipulative ex boyfriend as well. "You don't have to answer this but," Dae-ho tucked some of his hair behind his ears, sitting up so he could properly look at you, "why did you date him? You're too good for him." His little comment made you chuckle, even though he was right and it probably wasn't all that funny. "I don't know.. to be honest, at that time I just felt like I didn't deserve any better."

Dae-ho was appalled by your words, his face scrunching up. How could you even talk about yourself like that? "You do deserve better. You deserve the world." His tone wasn't angry, but definitely a lot firmer than before, showing you that he actually meant what he said. "What?" you asked him, also slowly sitting up now. "I'm serious, you're kind and smart and deserve a better life, a better boyfriend." His words made your heart beat a little faster.

"He doesn't deserve you. I would treat you be-" As soon as Dae-ho noticed what he just said himself, he immediately stopped talking, looking at you with wide eyes. "You would treat me better?" Your voice was laced with amusement, maybe teasing him a little now. That question made him stutter a quiet 'Yeah..' and it was clear how taken aback Dae-ho was from his own words. He didn't want you to know, at least not now. He knew this wasn't an ideal place to develop a crush on a girl he could lose in an instant, but he couldn't control his feelings now, could he?

"A lot better even."

"Then show me.."

[irisintheafterglow]

kid megumi starts a fight. you and satoru finish it.

being fresh out of high school while simultaneously taking care of a second grader was an interesting experience, to say the least. today was no different.

"oh my god; he what? i'll be there in a second, fucking hell," you sputter as you all but shoot upward from your desk, sweeping the post-mission paperwork to the side and grabbing your car keys from the bedside table. the car makes strained vrooms while you impatiently pump the gas pedal, accelerating down the street like a bat out of hell. swerving into the nearest parking space you could find, you forcefully swing open the door to the front office to find satoru waiting in a plastic chair. he mutters an exasperated oh, thank god under his breath before standing and taking your hand, leading you down the hall to the principal's office.

"is he okay?"

"he's fine, i promise." you look at him skeptically, remembering all the times megumi was "fine" yet had scrapes that satoru didn't know how to clean up. "i'm serious. i saw it myself. the nurse cleaned up his nose and iced the hit on his face."

"he got hit in the fucking face?" your jaw drops in shock and you quiet your voice to a hushed whisper outside the principal's office door. "what the fuck happened that he got punched in the-"

"fushiguro's guardians, please come in. we're ready for you," an irritatingly nasally voice calls from inside and it takes all of your willpower not to blast the door open until it's shredded to pieces. megumi's principal sits behind an obtrusively large wooden desk, with the boy sitting by one end and two empty chairs at the other. you immediately drag one of the chairs over to sit by his side, but a wrinkled hand stops you. "please sit across from him, not beside him. he must receive proper punishment and that begins with accounting for his own actions," the principal instructs you and you catch satoru's jaw clench in restrained anger. he wanted to tear the principal's head off for telling you what to do, especially since it was regarding megumi.

"i'll decide where i want to sit, thank you," you reply with forced politeness, sliding the chair next to a defeated megumi. he scoots as close to you as he can and links his pinky finger in yours. it's small, but you know he's trying to manage his anxiety along with yours. satoru shrugs indifferently at the principal but shoots you a proud wink when no one is looking. "they cleaned you up, yeah?" you ask megumi softly and he nods, wincing slightly when your knuckles lightly brush the bruise on his cheek. "i'm sorry, baby-"

"fushiguro instigated a fight with three sixth grade students, all of them older than him. we believe he may have developed issues dealing with his emotions, specifically anger," the principal informs you and you make a great deal of effort to wipe the glower from your face. "student witnesses say that he struck first, and-"

"do you know why he started the fight in the first place?" your eyes narrow on the scrawny, shriveled man behind the oversized desk and he shrinks away slightly.

"no, b-but we believe that violence should not be-"

"violence or not, shouldn't you be responsible for understanding why this occurred outright?" your voice is strained and tense, slightly shaky with repressed anger. you stare daggers into the old man's sunken eyes and catch satoru watching the whole scene with pride. here was a man who knew nothing about a child you considered your own, trying to argue that he started a fight for no reason when you knew megumi would never harm a bee, even if it stung him. before you're able to start a physical fight with the idiot school official that probably saw more board meetings than actual students, satoru's voice cuts in.

"forgive me, but i don't appreciate your tone-"

"we'll be sure to properly discipline him at home, sir," he states emotionlessly, and you wordlessly thank him for wrapping the meeting up quickly. after a few more glares and aggressive signatures on paperwork waiving the school of any responsibility for megumi's injuries, you walk out of the office with satoru's arm around your shoulders and megumi's hand grasping yours. "alright, firecracker. you fizzled out yet or do we need to take you to a kickboxing class real quick?" he presses a tender kiss to the side of your head, clearly unbothered by the way you barreled through that ridiculous meeting.

"put me in an empty field away from people, and i'll make a kickboxing class look like a fucking knitting circle," you mutter vengefully as satoru chuckles under his breath.

"alright, megs. you gonna tell us what happened or are we actually going to need to get you a therapist?" megumi glances off to the side, irritated, but you squeeze his hand once in reassurance that, no matter what happened, you'd figure it out together.

"they were hurting tsumiki," he says quietly and both you and satoru freeze, looking at each other in careful understanding. "she was saying it was just a joke, but i caught her crying while we were walking home."

"so, you decided the best option was to fight them," you say slowly. satoru's hand rubs loving circles on your shoulder and you ask the question you've been holding onto since he called. "well, did you beat them?"

"i did, and that's why everyone is so angry," the boy shrugs and you huff a tired exhale. "are you mad at me?"

"no, megs. i'm glad you defended your sister, but i wish you'd told us what was going on before acting on your own."

"yeah, we could have helped you," your boyfriend whispers and you elbow his stomach lightly. not yet, you mouth to him. let's drop him off first.

"the kids said they were going to get my parents involved. is that why you're here?"

"yes and no," satoru says, opening the car door for you as you slide into the passenger seat. he could have warped back to the school, but he'd silently indicated that he wanted to drive all three of you back. "yeah, we're here to come get you; but, unfortunately for those shithead kids-" you turn to face him in the backseat, a conniving smile creeping onto your face.

"we're not your parents, and we're gonna need those kids' names."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[lostinlovingrevery]

Old man Logan with reader who is lonely, has no friends but is still a ray of sunshine with him, always trying to impress him and give him pretty gifts and getting all dolled up for him. She is sad inside though, apart from being his boyfriend, he is her only friend

My Ray Of Sunshine (Why Are You So Sad?)

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

A/N: I hope this is okay! Started angsty, but I wanted it to be happy for both reader and Logan in the end. Loneliness is an awful feeling (smth I'm all too familiar with) If anyone ever needs to talk, my inbox is always open!! I had a little trouble figuring out where to go with this, so I hope this satisfies you!

Plot: You and Logan have been dating for some time, but you still feel the intense loneliness that wraps it's arms around you, him being the only one in your life - and you feel like he's not honest with you.

Warnings: Angsty, slight depression, mention of loneliness, happy endings

Word Count: 2021

"Hi Lo," You cooed as you answered the phone, a smile stretching across your face.

"Hey sunshine," You heard his gruff voice on the other line, giving your heart a flutter. You always loved the sound of his voice, no matter how gruff and cranky he could sound - he never takes it out on you though.

"You still coming over tonight?" You ask as you walk across the room, your fingers tapping along the small box that sat on your desk. A present you decided to get Logan, a nice little silver watch he can wear. There was a moment of silence, "Lo?"

A small sigh,

"Sorry. I can't. I have to work."

Your face fell, but you took a deep breath. "Oh, that's alright!" You say, putting on your best happy-go-lucky voice. You didn't want him to feel bad, just by the tone of his voice you could tell he was having a bad day. "We'll plan for another night baby. You get a request?"

"Yeah, Bachelors party." He says. "Big payout."

"Oooh....Nice paycheck then huh? You can make it up to me later by taking me out somewhere nice then." You tease. You couldn't see the fond smile on his face, but you could picture it.

"Yeah. We'll plan on it. Promise." He says. You chewed on your lip, as you felt that swell of emptiness build up inside you.

Another night alone.

"Sunshine?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your thoughts. "Sorry, sorry-" You laughed. "Zoned out again. What?"

"I gotta go, got a job. I'll call you later, or in the morning. That alright?"

"Yes, of course." You smiled. "Be safe, okay tough guy?"

You heard a warm chuckle, which made you relax. "Yeah, I will. See you doll."

You heard the phone beep and sighed. Alright.

You and Logan had been dating for a little bit. Meeting in a small little diner that you waitress at. It started as harmless flirting, but then you both managed to find yourself able to talk to each other so easily. Logan listened to you, seemed so openly accepting of you. How could you not be drawn to him?

You thought yourself a little ridiculous for gaining a crush on an older man like Logan, but then his weathered charm got to you - and you just couldn't help it. You'd slip him extra treats on the down-low, not charging him for them. An extra cup of coffee, a slice of apple pie, once you even managed to slip him a stack of pancakes. He'd smile at you and your antics as you slide the plate across the counter and give him a wink- his smile being something tired yet warm that made your knees weak and butterflies shoot through you.

You put more effort into your appearance, especially when you knew he was going to be there. Dolling yourself up - not your usual thing to do but when you got a man like Logan coming around...Well, it's hard not to want to look pretty for him.

It was you that finally convinced him to go on a date with you, and you surprised him by taking him to a gorgeous museum the next city over. You had wondered initially if he scoff at that- him being the gruff and older man he is, but he seemed to really enjoy it. He listened to you ramble on and on about Vincent Van Gogh, one of your favorite painters as you listed everything you knew about him, explaining the misconceptions about him as a painter and a person.

You took the charge of the relationship that formed between you. You planned dates, which seemed to make Logan happy- your infectious happiness- not rubbing off on him but more giving him some much needed relief in what you must believe is a very stressful life for him. He deemed you his sunshine, a pet-name you wore with pride.

You believe it's stressful- or rather assume. He never really told you about his personal life. You know he was a limo driver, you know he lived on the outskirts of town - you never been where he lived. He mentioned something about taking care of his father. He's shared a few stories- always seemingly missing information in them like he was purposely leaving out parts of them.

It made it worse by the fact that he really is the only person in your life right now. You adored Logan and did everything you could to make him happy because he was the only one to give your love to. You spend the time you can together, when he visits your work, or when he comes and stays with you for the night. He's busy though, so he's not really there as often as you wish he was.

Actually, you probably love him. You haven't told him that though. You always feel though that he's hiding something from you. It's disheartening really, he'll listen to you, he's heard your secrets but you never hear his. He refuses to bring you to his place, making some excuse that yours was nicer and maybe it was but you didn't care about that. It created a space between you, something you're not sure if Logan recognizes himself.

You moved to change out of the pretty yellow dress you had on to see Logan, wiping your makeup off and pulling your hair into a messy bun as you prepared to spiral into a night of anxiety, depression, and wine.

You settled on your couch, flipping the tv on, surfing through channel after channel. The night got darker and you got more and more tired. The shadows of your living room, seemingly your only company for tonight, closing in on you as the tv flickered over your curled up form.

Your eyelids grew heavy, as your felt the sinking feeling of your heart, reminding you that you were by yourself again. Inevitably wondering when will Logan leave?

Heavy knocks on your door startled you, as you sat up on the couch and confusion stretched across your face. Worry settled in you, as you had to wonder what shifty characters were knocking on your door at night?

You stood up and crossed the apartment, peeking through the peephole of your door, you're shocked to find Logan standing there. You gasped, stepping back to unlock your door and open it.

"Logan?"

"Hi sunshine." He greeted you, and smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as his smile lines became more prominent. He held a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand.

"What are you...What are you doing here?"

"I missed ya." He says gently, a lingering gruff in his voice. "Can I come in?"

You bit your lip, and nodded. Still, your lingering feelings stuck in the back of your head. Stepping back, you forced a smile up at him as he stepped inside, holding the bouquet up.

"I figured you'd like them because...You know. That painter who- Are you okay?" He stopped, squinting at you, as he watched your eyes met with the bouquet, and tears filled your eyes. "Hey, hey sunshine, what's wrong?" He asks softly, bringing his hand up to your chin, tipping it upwards to look up at him. You bit your lip and shook your head.

"Sorry-" You say pulling away from him, wiping your eyes. "I'm just happy to see you..." You lied through your teeth. His eyes, he looked tired.

"Don't know about that sweetheart..." He mutters, examining your expression. "What is it? The flowers? You hate em?"

"No." You let out a small laugh, crossing your arms. He turned to shut the door behind him, locking it before setting the flowers on a nearby table, his hands coming to rest on your arms.

"Well?" He looks down at you, his face serious, but his eyes held concern. "You don't need to pretend with me darling."

You were caught off guard by him, showing up suddenly when you felt your worst. Your instinct screamed at you to push him away, to pretend that it was all okay. You didn't want to bring him down. Your anxiety peeked at the idea that he may be disappointed by this version of yourself, that he would see the lonely person you are, and leave because he wouldn't want to deal with you.

But they way he looked at you, you couldn't help it as the dam broke, and he pulled you tight to his chest, holding you as you cried.

"I'm sorry doll. I didn't mean to hurt you by canceling." He says softly, his hand petting your hair gently.

"No..No, it's not you." You sniffled, stepping away for a moment. "I...I just feel so alone sometimes. I like you a lot Lo, I love us spending time together but when you're not around I'm just by myself and it...It's just terrible."

Logan brows creased, as he brought a hand to cup your cheek. "I didn't know." He says gently. You let out a shaky sigh and looked back up at him.

"You're the only person in my life." You continue. "I don't feel like I don't completely know you though. Not like how you know me. I feel like you're keeping things from me or that you're...Only sticking around temporarily."

"That's not true." He says quickly, and firmly. "I care about you sunshine." His thumb wiped away a tear. "A lot. More than I have a right too. You're....Everything sweetheart. I count myself a damn lucky guy that I met you, that you let me be apart of your life. "

You swallowed and nodded, looking away as you let out a small sigh. You both stood there in silence.

"I..." He started. "I don't know how to stop you from feeling alone but...I get it. You're right. I haven't told you the whole truth."

He grabbed your hand, leading you over to the couch, as you both sat down.

"You ready for this?" He asks.

~~~~~~~~

You stood outside the hot desert sun, as you look around the barren horizon. Logan let out a small cough, as he puffed on the cigar that he was smoking.

"It's quiet." You say.

"Yeah." He nods, his eyes trailing over you as he tried to read your body language.

After an intense conversation last night, you both passed out on your couch. When you woke up in the morning, Logan had you get dressed, and brought you to his...well, where he lives. Can't really call it a home.

That was you.

He felt terrible when you admitted to him everything you struggled with. He adored the way you always seemed to be optimistic, the way you got yourself all dolled up for him, the way you tried to spoil him and every way possible. That's not why he liked you though. He liked your character, he liked the person you are. Not just for what you do for him. You were a fresh breath of air for him. His sunshine.

He wished you see yourself the way he does. You're always encouraging him, to look at himself and see himself as a good man. He didn't know how long he got but he'll spend every second with you to prove you are the most wonderful and loveable person.

You looked at him and smiled. The sunlight gleamed off his new watch that you gifted him. He finished the cigar, flicking it to the ground and stomping it out with the heel of his shoe, before putting an arm around your shoulders.

"You ready to meet the old man?"

"Uh Lo, you're right here." You tease, wrapping your arm around his waist. He chuckled warmly.

"Real cute." He mutters shaking his head, as he led you to the decrepit water tower. He went to the door, and slid it open, a harsh grunt escaping him as it rolled open, he stood to the side and waited as you walked in.

Inside you saw two men. One, sitting in a chair reading a comic book, looking up at you. He had white skin, and yellow eyes. That one must be Caliban.

"Hello dear-" The other man greets. An older gentleman, lying in a bed with a warm smile. You smiled back as he reached his hand out to you, and walked over and took it. "I've heard so much about you from Logan. It's nice to finally meet you. Tell me...Which of Van Goghs paintings is your favorite?"

[imagineweasley]

I Love You Deerly

Harry Potter x Reader

summary: after a DA meeting, you and your boyfriend harry take a second to be alone together.

y/n: your name

word count: 0.9k

submit requests here! | masterlist

author's note: basically no plot, just so much fluff! fluff here, fluff there, fluff everywhere!!

--

"Fantastic job tonight everyone! See you all next Tuesday, 8 pm sharp!" Harry claps his hands and grins at the DA.

The group disperses, happily chatting amongst themselves. Tonight's meeting was pretty successful, so the group is in a cheery mood. We'd been working on Expecto patronum for the past two weeks, and today, a few more students, including myself, had been able to conjure our patronuses. I weave my way through the crowd towards Harry, who's standing in the far corner of the room with Neville, who looks dejected. Poor Neville. I can't blame him, he's been trying really hard for the last two meetings with only a few wisps of his patronus to show for it.

"See ya later y/n!" Hermione smiles and waves at me as she passes.

Ron on the other hand salutes me and says, "Remember you promised to lend me your potions notes tonight y/n!" I call after him, "I did no such thing Ronald!" I laugh and shake my head before turning back around.

"... such a hard thing to achieve, most people our age can't even get what you got consistently. Trust me, by next month you'll be an expert. It takes time." I walk up to Harry and Neville and chime in, "Yeah, and look at Zacharius, I thought the vein in his forehead would pop today and he came nowhere near what you did." Neville jumps but then smiles sheepishly when he realizes it's me, even laughing under his breath. Harry also turns at my voice and his gaze softens when he meets my eyes. With a big grin on his face, he rubs Neville's shoulder one more time before patting his arm.

"Don't lose it just yet, mate. You're really, truly doing great."

"Thanks guys." Neville wipes his nose and smiles at the both of us, "I'll see you around!" In much better spirits, Neville grabs his sweater and heads out.

Once we're alone, Harry steps towards me and wraps me in a tight embrace, and my face ends up smushed in his chest

"Mmmph - hey, mm, can't breathe here!" Harry laughs and kisses the top of my head before loosening his grip.

"Sorry love, I'm sorry, I've just been waiting to do that since you walked into the room. It's hard to focus on everyone else here when you're right there, you know?"

I smile up at him before wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

"Maybe... I should... stop... coming... so you... can focus!" I peck his lips between every word and he snakes his arms around my waist.

"Little... do you know... that's... useless... because... you're... always... on... my... mind!" Harry plants big kisses on the top of my head, my forehead, my cheeks, each ear, and the rest on my lips, making me giggle like a little girl.

"By the way... a doe?" He's talking about my patronus that revealed itself today, a graceful doe. As soon as I had conjured it, it had pranced in a circle around Harry and his stag before returning to me. Everyone had paused in their own efforts to stare, jaws dropped. Hermione had gasped and grabbed onto Ron's arm and she gazed up at it with wide eyes and a huge smile.

"Mmm what a surprise, huh?" I look up at Harry and he looks back at me fondly, grinning so wide I think his face might crack in two.

"Maybe we can make our patronuses kiss in front of everyone."

I laugh before wriggling out of his grasp to retrieve my things. "You are ridiculous Mr. Potter, utterly ridiculous."

I don't make it far before Harry pounces and wraps himself around me from behind, "Where do you think you're going!"

"Hey!" I lose my balance and we both fall to the ground onto one of the mats, giggling. I roll onto my back so he's on top of me, our limbs entangled and our noses touching. He rubs our noses together before kissing me and I can't but melt into the it. Almost two years of dating and his kisses still never fail to make me all fluttery inside.

He pulls away, suddenly serious, and leans his forehead against mine.

"You know I couldn't have done this without you, you know?"

"Yes you absolutely could have, and you know it."

"Actually, I know that I wouldn't have been able to. You're my strength, my love. You were the one who encouraged me to take the risk. You were the one who believed that I could do it when I didn't."

I cup his cheek and he leans into it before continuing, "Even during meetings when I don't think I can, all I have to do is look for you and your smile tells me I can keep going. I have to keep going. For you. For us."

My heart swells with his words and all I can think about is how in love I am with this boy, with the Boy Who Lived And Captured My Heart. "Merlin, I love you so much, Harry." He lets his head rest on my chest and I snuggle into him.

"I love you, y/n."

I close my eyes and lean into my boyfriend while I mindlessly run my fingers through his hair. We lay in comfortable silence.

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we stay here for a second?"

"Of course, my love. Let's stay here forever."

[envyi5envious]

𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃.

࿐ — 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 : (Superman) Clark Kent x GN Reader. 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 : ࿐ — Clark got injured, now you have to help him (and get him dressed.) 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 : 1.1k 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 : Fluff. Depictions of semi-nudity and heavy injury. Suggestive, no smut. 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 : English isn’t my first language. Batman knows you're a freak. Enjoy ♡

The night was dark and windy, the rain splashing against the windows of Clark's apartment. You were curled up on the couch, watching the news reports of the latest crime spree that had been stopped by Superman a few days ago, when you heard the sound of the front door bursting open. There was a loud clatter of some kind. That was enough to get you on your feet. You could feel your stomach physically drop as you saw Clark- no, Superman wounded. You never thought you’d have to see the day. Clark stumbled through the front door, his face pale.

He had managed to save the day once again, but this time, he hadn't come out unscathed. A deep, angry gash ran across his stomach, the edges of the wound already starting to turn a sickening shade of green from the Kryptonite poisoning. He leaned against the wall for support, his hand pressed tightly against the wound in a useless attempt to stall the bleeding. He should have gone to the Fortress of Solitude first, it was the best way to counteract the effects of the Kryptonite. But he needed to check on you, to make sure that you were safe. When he realized you were standing in front of him, he forced a weak smile, not wanting to worry you.

"Hey, honey," he said, his voice strained with pain. "I'm... I'm home."

“Clark! What happened?” You dashed to hold him as fast as you could. He tried to take a step forward but the effort was too much. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor with a grunt. You tried to catch him but he was too heavy for you to support alone.

So you settled for the next best thing, kneeling next to him as you try to figure out how you could help. “Clark. It’s.. Okay. You’re going to be alright.” You didn’t know who you were trying to convince, him or yourself. Maybe both. Then you realized how you could get him to the bed. But it wasn’t the best option.. “I’m sorry for what I have to do, baby.” You mutter, giving Clark a kiss on his forehead before you stood up. Reaching for his legs, you firmly held his ankles and dragged him back to your shared bedroom. You knew it most likely didn’t hurt, he was the Man of Steel after all, but you still felt bad for basically manhandling him while he was bleeding out. You would have to find a way to apologize to him later. When you finally reached the bed, he let out a sigh of relief as he felt the soft mattress beneath his back. He looked up at you and managed a weak smile. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You couldn’t even think of what to say so you just let out a soft hum in response. "In the bathroom, under the sink," he said finally, his words coming out. "There's a first aid kit. Bring me that, and some towels. And... and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. It's a strong disinfectant, it'll help clean the wound." You quickly noted all of it in your mind before rushing to get everything. Looking through the cabinets, you took out all the things Clark asked for. You came back into the room to find him still sitting on the bed, he had just re-adjusted himself. He was in a much better position to be treated. You climbed into bed, kneeling beside him. You took the first aid kit and pulled out what you would need. A wrap of bandage, a bottle of water and snippers. Then you took one of the towels and dampen it with the water. “How are you doing, Clark?”

"I... I'm hanging in there, sweetheart," he said through a tense jaw. "It hurts like hell, but I'll be okay. I promise you that." He watched as you worked to clean the wound, your brow furrowed in concentration. "You're doing great..” He said softly, his hand reaching to lay on your back. “I couldn't ask for a better nurse than you.” He was trying to lighten the mood, it was sweet. “Did you hear that line in a movie?” Teasing, you gave him a kiss on his jaw. “I like it.” When you said that, you could feel his hands move to reach your hips until you pat them away gently. “Don’t start, Superman. You’re injured.”

He chuckled slightly, his hand still on your hip but he didn’t move it any further. “I’m sorry, I can't help myself when you look so beautiful.” Knowing Clark, he wasn’t trying to tease you. He was being honest. He always was. It was nice to hear.

"Wrap it tightly, but not too tight. And... if I pass out, don't worry. I'll be healed before you know it.” He rubbed your hip bone with his thumb, feeling a bit content with the silence. Once you were finally done, you realized you would have to help him get undressed.

“There we go. See, you didn’t pass out. Good job.” You gave his hand a soft squeeze before you reached for the hem of his shirt, looking at him for permission. He gave you a small nod, “Arms up,” You said while unclipping his belt and pulling the shirt off of him. 

Then you pulled his pants down his legs, pulling off his boots and letting them fall to the ground. Leaving him in his underwear, you stood up to get him one of his regular sleeping shirts. Clark usually saw no need for pants when sleeping, he said they make him get too hot. “Which one do you want? Red or white?” You asked, looking through the solid color options in the closet. "The red one," he said softly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He watched as you rummaged through the closet, admiring the curve of your back. You pulled out the red shirt, closing the closet door. You walked back over to Clark and helped him lift his arms up again, pulling the shirt down. You smiled at your good work, Clark was not comfortable and healing because of you. Clark definitely did not let that go unnoticed, pulled you by your waist, pressed you against him. It stung a bit but he powered through. Bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He could feel the warmth of your skin, could hear the unsteady beat of your pulse. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes drifting shut as he held you still. ©◞✶ 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘𝐈𝟻𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

☆ 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏.

[osball]

Ren (14DWY) x Reader

Cold hands

Ren doesn't want you to be cold, even when it means he'll be the freezing one.

~834 words Fluff

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, the sleeping face of Ren being the first thing you notice. With blurry eyes, you glance out the window, noting the snowflakes fluttering around outside, then the time displayed on your phone. 9:47.

"Morning Angel" Ren mumbled, his voice deep from sleep.

You looked at him, a small smile plastered on his face at the sight of you. His arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you close to him, tucking his face into your neck.

"We can't stay in bed all day, Ren..." You chuckled, the feeling of his warm breath on your skin making you flustered.

Ren groaned at your words, pulling you even more flush against him.

"Please Angel? I'm so warm... five more minutes"

"Nuh uh, it's snowing and I wanna go enjoy it" you slowly wiggled yourself out of Ren's tired grip, despite his (weak) effort to keep you cuddled up next to him.

You ruffled his hair before sliding fully out from under the sheets, slightly shivering from the feeling of the cold floor.

"Hold on Angel, ill come with" Ren said, sliding out of bed and trying to wake himself up as fast as possible.

You let out a giggle at the sight of your sleepy boyfriend, his shirt slightly slipping off his shoulder and his hair a mess as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

You waited at the door for Ren, a cheery grin on his face as he walked over to head out the door with you.

"You sure you don't need another jacket? I don't want my beautiful angel to freeze" Ren cooed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.

"I'll be fine, you know I like the cold" you laughed, nudging him off you and running out into the snow.

The two of you walked down the street for a while, Ren watching with a soft smile as you admired the scene of snow on the beach. As you continued to wander, though, the wind suddenly picked up, sending a sharp shiver through your whole body as the cold finally got to you. Before you could even turn back to Ren, you felt another jacket being slipped over you.

"Ren, no, I'm fine, you're the one who's going to be freezing now!" you scolded him but as always he just deflected your arguments, insisting he was fine and that it mattered more how you felt.

You and Ren kept walking for a bit, but you slowly got more and more worried about Ren, noticing how he was moving a bit slower.

"Come on" You said, grabbing his hand and quickly yanking him into a coffee shop you were passing by.

"I told you Angel, I'm fine-"

"Shush, you're shivering" you lifted his hand to your face, slightly jumping at how cold his hand actually was.

You glared at him, and he gave you a halfhearted smile, "I promise I'm not that cold, I didn't even notice it"

You ordered two hot drinks, one for yourself and one for Ren, before taking off the much larger jacket he had slipped onto you and handing it back to him. He tried to give it back, but you wouldn't take it, forcing him to finally give in and wear the jacket.

"Order 134!" The barista shouted, setting both the drinks on the counter.

Ren grabbed both, handing you yours as you both made your way out of the shop, wanting to hurry back to Ren's apartment and cuddle up in bed again.

You let out a content sigh as the door shut behind you, setting your mostly empty cup on the counter before taking off the winter clothes you had on.

"We should watch a movie" you suggested, immediately earning a nod from Ren as he went to grab blankets and pillows while you got situated on the couch.

Ren threw a few blankets over you before he made himself comfortable next to you, but you weren't having that, pulling him closer and sitting yourself right in his lap.

"A-angel... I'm cold, though I don't want you to be cold too..." He whined, his actions contradicting his words, as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

"That's the point, I need to warm you up, don't I?" you replied, playing with his hair.

He hummed, and you relaxed into him, only to tense up again as his freezing hands made their way under your shirt.

"Ren!" you shouted, trying to move away from him, only to be held in place.

"I thought this was the point, you said it your self~" he teased as he continued to move his hands all over your skin, sending shivers through your entire body.

"Where'd this confident side come from, you've been pouty all day?" you giggled as he continued to pull you closer, warming himself up.

He didn't reply, only continuing to hold you close as you watched the movie together, the snow falling outside making everything feel calm.

A/N!! I honestly dont like this one much and im notttt sure why but i decided to post it anyway ;-; please excuse any bad grammar im tired

Please make sure to like and comment so I have motivation to write more for our silly lil Ren!

[starrygazers]

cross my heart (hope to die)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ haiii :3 I only write like once a year but that won't stop me from yearning for these new characters. I love Amphoreus because I was a Greek myth nerd growing up and this new update tickles me in aaaall the right ways.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : angst, established relationship, mentions of character death

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei; minor spoilers for 3.0

─── ･ ｡���☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mydeimos, the Crown Prince, has no fears. He tossed away his humanity when he embraced immortality, the tool that he needed to trek on this god-slaying journey. There was no room for fear, not when he had to fight the Titan of Violence. A man such as this was not capable of human emotions; or so he thought.

"So," you hum in a sing-song tone, draping your arms around Mydei's shoulders. "When will you take me to that new restaurant in Marmoreal Market?"

Mydei huffs, but makes no effort to peel your touch off of him. He turns around to meet your eyes; you're so close to him. If it were any other person, they would have faced the wrath of the Undying Lion.

You detect no change in his expression, so you start pouting. "Mydei! You promised me you would."

Mydei shrugs. "Did I?"

You roll your eyes, finally letting go of him and sitting on the empty spot next to him. "Dying doesn't exempt you from the promises you make, you know?"

The Prince can't help but crack a smile at this; you're the only person that he can comfortably joke about his immortality with. With you, it doesn't seem like the big deal everyone makes it out to be. Not the heroic Chrysos Heir trait that Phainon envies him for, or the source of worry for Aglaea and Tribbie. It's just another part of him that you've accepted.

Because you accept all of him.

You cross your arms and look away from him, mumbling about how the restaurant's been open for a month and it's not new anymore so there won't be as many people and why do you always have to go on such long expeditions, but Mydei shushes you by taking a strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

A whisper of apology.

"It's okay," you mumble, extending your pinky. "Just promise again, for this life."

"I'll make a thousand promises if that's what you want," he says, and it comes out rough, like he's doing it to get you off his back. But you know better, you know him better.

He raises his own pinky finger to entwine it with yours. "How does the saying go again?"

"You're so forgetful," you laugh, and it's the most melodious tune he knows.

"Cross my heart..."

Mydeimos knows that he must suffer a thousand deaths, and a thousand more. He's content with this destiny, because he knows he is not given the privilege to choose. He must lay down his god for the glory of what little humanity he has left within him. He will trade a thousand lives for peace, and he will enter a losing battle with only his faith in the infinite lives that he has.

Perhaps this is what made him forget how flimsy a life really is.

In his usual boredom, Phainon once riddled him. "How heavy do you think the world really is? Like, a thousand Dromas?"

Mydei's response, in typical fashion, was to huff and call Phainon's musings irrelevant. But now, he thinks he can answer that question.

The world is really light in his arms. The world is pale, cold, and losing a lot of blood.

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me," you manage to say before your last breath. Your voice is hoarse, but Mydei would beg Oronyx to loop it forever because he still thinks your voice is his lullaby.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He promised to take you to that restaurant, and many more. He vowed to bring peace to this world to one day crown you as his queen.

Mydeimos knows that he must suffer a thousand deaths, and a thousand more. But this was worse than death. For you, he would trade it all; his status as Crown Prince, his pride as the Undying Lion, his immortality.

A thousand life for yours.

"... and hope to die."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[alwayscorvus]

Hello, can I ask Jiyan from Wuwa with the reader who kissed Jiyan on the cheek without warning him about the lipstick on their lips, which is why he walked around the whole day with a trace of lips near his scales, which greatly embarrassed the soldiers.

My lips on your cheek

malereader x Jiyan, fluff;

I'm truly awful and I won't even try to excuse myself for how long you had to wait for this. Or I will for a little bit... I really didn't have enough talent to extend your idea and to turn it into a longer story, even though it's cute. Fortunately, i was able to create something in the end. Thanks 4 the request...

-Where are you heading today?

You turned direction from which your boyfriend's voice was coming and smiled wider at the sight of Jiyan.

-On a short reconnaissance. You were the one who suggested this yesterday.

You reminded him and went back to tying up your bovver boots. Jiyan froze in a mid-step and gasped surprised. Recently he had started to forget about plenty of things.

He nodded, quickly chasing away his dissatisfied thoughts.

He took his place right next to you, on the concrete staircase leading to the porch of your abode.

-Do not let your guard down.

-I won't. But you also have to promise me that you won't push yourself too hard, lately you've been taking on too many things.

Jiyan just nodded, not necessarily convinced. Slightly resigned, you just leaned in his direction and planted a brief kiss on his cheek. After returning at the evening, you will put a great effort in taking his mind off his work.

You took a closer look at the spot where your mouth rested a few seconds ago. You blinked in disbelief and, after a few seconds, loudly snorted in admiration.

-Something wrong? - your partner asked.

-No no! -you immediately assured too amused and thrilled by the whole situation and prospects that it held.

You jumped on your feet, trying to run away from the scene of incident as quickly as possible.

-I'll be going. I probably won't be back before sunset, so don't worry about me. See you in our room.

You waved cheerfully to him and headed towards the exit of a camp. Leaving your confused boyfriend completely alone with pointing comments of his colleagues.

It started innocently.

At first a bunch of strange looks from passersby. KInda like expressions of unbelief.

Embarrassed Jiyan scratched his covered neck. He wasn't used to this type of spotlight. True, he was often in the center of attention. But when this was happening, people always concerned on what he was saying, his strategy, plans, not necessarily on him. This morning, however, all the excessive attention gave off a somehow different vibe. Jiyan got some sort of irresistible impression that others were focusing not so much on his overall figure, but more on the details. To make matters worse, something strange suggested to him that this particular detail was his own head, that tingled unpleasantly upon feeling other people's eyes on it.

General tried to quickly chase this thought away from himself. He wasn't used to worrying about silly things.

But things only got worse by the hour. Interest never faded. Though he didn't have a birthday, didn't do anything stupid yesterday and nor did he win any important battle.

At noon, strange whispers joined to people's glances. Something like gossips, excited gasps. Soldiers exchanged remarks with each other while covering mouths with they hands. It's not like Jiyan didn't see this. He was perfectly aware that something was wrong. But in the end, he looked as usual. When he examined his clothes, they had no stains or rips on them. He wasn't sick, so bags under his eyes or a blue skin weren't an option either. His hair was tied up as usual. There was nothing that could distinguish him from any other day. He didn't even manage to eat anything yet, so it's not like he could get dirty. After all, linden tea didn't leave a mark. Unless, of course, it was on a fabric. But his clothes really were spotless.

-Do I have something on my face? -he finally asked in a cold voice, unable to stand the tension.

Pair of young recruits who accompanied him jumped up on spot. They flushed like two plump tomatoes. New soldiers were trying to assist Jiyan in his office work, after an unsuccessful meeting. This one, that frustrated Jiyan had to cancel and reschedule for the next day. Just after it occurred to him that none of his comrades would be able to focus. Despite their many coughs and efforts to pull themselves together. Their gaze drifted constantly from a map to the general. And thoughts wandered in directions completely unrelated to a military.

-N-nothing!

Panicked soldiers covered their faces with document folders and rushed out of the tent in panic.

Puzzled Jiyan frowned slightly at this. He didn't know whether he was more offended by their reaction or by how their assistance had ended. However, after looking at another pile of papers, he quickly returned to his work. Putting his doubts at the back of his head.

He didn't realize that what piqued so much interest in his co-workers was nothing more than the trail of your lips adorning his cheek right next to his cyan scales.

After all, he couldn't have known that the freezing weather and painfully cracked lips would lead you to the point of deciding to buy a lip balm. And even more, that you, being inexperienced in these matters, will purchase one with an additional slightly peachy tint.

Sure, maybe your face looked a little more charming than usual. But it's not like he bothered where it came from.

When evening arrived, you stumbled into each other's room. Both tired after a long day of work, you exchanged only a brief verbal greeting and began to get ready for bed. When you finished showering, you let Jiyan take your place. In the meantime, struggling to remember your morning's resolution stashed somewhere in the back of your head. Man automatically made his way to your small private bathroom. As you settled ready on the bed and began to fix the wrinkled pillows, Jiyan leaned against the sink with a loud sigh. Why this day had to be so long…

With difficulty he lifted his head and looked in the mirror. Noticing something strange, he furrowed his eyebrows, leaned over and took a closer look.

-[M/N]!

From a bathroom came a fussy shout of your boyfriend. Shit, that means he finally found out. You swallowed your saliva slightly terrified. Jiyan wasn't easy to be catch of balance. You, however, were successful in doing so…

-Yes, love?

-Do not love me here. What is that?

He asked more than grumpy. Standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over a chest. All red, with cheeks slightly puffed up. Truly adorable.

-I don't know what you're talking about.

-[M/N]!

If he had a pillow on him right now he would certainly have thrown it at you. Fortunately, you were at an advantage.

-How could you let me walk around with something like that for a whole day. And what's worse, among young recruits! They won't respect me anymore.

-Oh Jiyan, no one will stop respecting you just because you walked around with a lipstick mark on your face. It wasn't even that noticeable -you dismissed- Anyway, I said that you should take better care of yourself. And if you had listened to me, you would have spotted it sooner.

Jiyan looked away from you and let out a frustrated sigh. His voice already suggested that he got seriously offended.

-Oh baby - you rose from the bed and moved towards your partner.

You locked him in a tight embrace, from which Jiyan didn't particularly try to crawl away. Even when you started placing hundreds of kisses on his face. Though it was far too uncomfortable and ticklish for him.

-This winter air dries out my lips terribly and I had to buy something to make them stop bleeding so much. I didn't know that lip balm can also stain.

-But you could have told me once you figured it out.

-Yeah, I could - you admitted not particularly concerned- But at least now everyone knows that my Jiyan is completely taken.

You replied proudly. Smiling from ear to ear, at which Jiyan slapped you across the chest with his palm.

You groaned in faked pain, taking a step back.

-Woah, that hurt - you grabbed the spot where you got hit and made the best quality grimace, at which Jiyan definitely didn't fall for- I had no idea you could be capable of such vicious revenge. Though, now we are even, aren't we?

Man gave you a dirty look , disappointed by your cheap games. However, you didn't get too ashamed and continued taking advantage of this moment.

-Lay in bed with me -you pulled him gently into the depths of bedroom- We'll cuddle to make it batter.

Jiyan quickly pulled his palm out of your hands.

-Not until I wash it off.

He replied firmly returning to the bathroom.

And you sighed amused.

Well... it was worth it.

[perfectlyoongi]

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who gave you his plush when you lost yours. it was exciting to start a new life just for you; after so much effort and dedication you finally got your dream job and a small house that was very easy to call home. with all your enthusiasm and rush to finally be free, the moves from your parents' house to your new one happened quickly and, between boxes and newspapers, bags and suitcases, it was inevitable to lose something — you already knew that; what you didn't know is that what was lost, among so much trinkets and unnecessary things, was the stuffed animal that watched you grow up from an early age. no matter how much you searched, no matter how much you revolutionized clothes and objects, you couldn't find your long-time companion. this new stage of your life had been cursed by the lack of your stuffed animal — everything was ruined. that is, until Yoongi shows up at your house with his own plush. “it helped me a lot when i moved out of my parents' house. and i know you miss your plush, so… it's for you. a loan until you find your stuffed animal or find something better to give me. take good care of it, okay? it's an extension of me, remember that.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who likes to read to you. when you first slept at Yoongi's house, the night was aggressive. the wind shook the trees violently, making them hit the window in a symphony led by the heavy drops of rain. the sounds of nature were loud, very loud, and you couldn't sleep. so when you woke up Yoongi, half scared, half embarrassed, he just lay down next to you in bed with a flashlight and started reading a storybook to you until you fell asleep. since then, Yoongi has found a certain comfort in reading to you — not only did it soothe his soul and make him forget about the world, but it also helped you calm down and bring back loving memories. every now and then, when life was too much, Yoongi would read to you — over the phone or by your side, books only gained their magic when read by Yoongi. “another nightmare? i'm sorry. do you want me to come over? no, i don't mind at all. i insist. give me five minutes to get dressed and i'll be right there. i'll bring a book with me to read to you. you don't have to worry.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who has an album full of photos from your childhood. now that Yoongi was grown up, he thanked his parents for making sure to document everything. in moments of greater nostalgia, Yoongi would grab his album and take refuge in the corner of the sofa, remembering all the laughter and memories that he would never forget. your first day at the beach where you fed a seagull. your school recital where you couldn't stop crying until Yoongi held your hand. the traditional picnic that your families used to have on summer days. when he got cake on your face for the first time. when you pushed him into a puddle of water for pulling your hair. all of these diverse memories filled the yellow pages of that book and in all of them Yoongi saw the cradle of your complicity and the garden where the seed of love was planted and began to sprout. “yesterday i was looking at the album and… remember when we did the show for our parents? you looked extremely charming with your father's tie. don't you miss those moments? i wish i could live them again.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who blushes every time you force him to make a pinky promise. you'd think that now that you're both adults with fulfilled lives, this little habit of yours would die. but of course, Yoongi was wrong. maybe because it gave you a bit of security from your childhood or because you had too many memories attached to that habit, but the truth is that now, even though you were already grown up, you had a need to close the most serious promises with your little finger. and, of course, Yoongi could never hide the slight pink hue he gained whenever you linked your finger with his. using a thousand and one excuses, blaming everything and anything, Yoongi wanted the attention turned away from him, but he couldn't deny that your little teasing and laughter comforted him in a unique way. “i can't believe you're going to force me to do this again! you're an adult, how can you still believe in that? no! i'm not scared! oh, shut up and let's get this over with!”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who married you when you were 4 years old. after seeing your cousin's wedding and noticing how beautiful the bride was and how stunning she looked next to her groom, you decided that you wanted to get married. choosing a groom was easy, especially because it was already impossible to imagine you without Yoongi, the complicated part was convincing Yoongi to accept the marriage. nothing that some dolls and cookies couldn't solve, really — it was so easy to entice Yoongi to participate in your plans, especially since Yoongi could never say no to you. so, on that sunday afternoon, after a light summer rain, you and Yoongi got married in front of your favorite stuffed animals and swore a life together sharing cookies and laughter. sometimes, when you felt the saddest and most hopeless in life, you would re-watch the video of your wedding with Yoongi and, for a brief moment, everything was okay because you knew you were loved. “no, i'm not going to give you a kiss! how disgusting. a hug is fine… but it has to be quick. i don't want to be tied to you. yes, yes, i'm your husband forever, now. i'll never leave you.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who has water balloon fights with you on warmer, more relaxed days. one tradition that Yoongi made sure to keep was your water balloon fights. barefoot on the grass, with a bucket full of balloons next to the two of you, the hot summer days became more bearable between screams and laughter. races were made in escapes from threats and several promises danced on your lips every time a balloon burst next to the two of you. in small minutes, when the sun warmed you from the icy betrayals committed with laughter, the world seemed something good, something serene. it was as if you had gone back in time and were once again wearing those fragile skins of two children who only knew joy and love. “we have to buy balloons for this weekend! remind me before i pick you up tomorrow. i already mowed the lawn and went to the market to buy lemons. please, don't forget to bring the cake.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who is not afraid to admit that you are the love of his life. “you saw me growing up. you saw me at my lowest moments and at my best. you were always with me, by my side, pushing me, holding me up. we grew up together for a reason: to mold our souls to the essence of each other. and when i tell you that i was born already learning to love you. that l came into this world just to share a life with you… i'm not lying, nor am i exaggerating. you are the love of my life. and even if you don't feel the same way, i know that nothing will change between us. because what we have is genuine and, in my opinion, unique. a love of children, an eternal love.”

[siriuslystyle1989]

In Sickness and In Health

Harry styles x Sick!reader

warnings: Vomiting, sickness, fluff, non-sexual nudity

Masterlist

Tummy gurgling like a newborn baby, Y/n was quick to realise something was wrong. As nausea penetrated her senses she slowly began to feel her mouth water.

Dashing towards her and her husbands shared bathroom, Y/n felt the bile rise in her throat as she began coughing up her dinner.

She tried to be as quiet as possible as to not wake her sleeping husband but her efforts were in vain as she felt his calloused hands reaching up to her neck in an effort to hold her hair.

"its alright baby, let it all out." he spoke, his voice laced with sleep.

After about 5 minutes of pure sickness, Y/n slumped at the side of the toilet bowl, her head resting on the seat in exhaustion.

"You think you're done Angel?" Harry spoke while rubbing a comforting hand on her back. "You think you're ready to come back to bed?"

To this, Y/n couldn't even reply, too tired to even lift her head off the toilet seat.

"You gotta speak to me sweetheart, I need to know how to help you." Harry whispered so softy Y/n could cry.

He was always so good in situations like this. She had had boyfriends in the past that had been disgusted when she was ill. but not Harry. Never Harry. He was always attentive and caring, and made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Even when she had vomit stained on her shirt.

Y/n whimpered slightly as she lifted her head up to look at Harry. He gave her a sympathetic smile and stated "There's my girl, you think you're okay to brush your teeth?"

Y/n gave a slight nod.

To this, Harry gently picked the girl up, cradling her head as if she was the most fragile thing he had ever held, and placed her on the bathroom counter to brush her teeth.

He then picked her up once more and placed her on their shared bed.

"Just sit there and look pretty while I get you some new pjs" he smiled, hunting through the wardrobe for her favourites.

Harry began to peel away her vomit stained pyjamas carefully, making sure to look in her eyes and nowhere else.

Once she was snug in her fresh pyjamas Harry tucked her into bed, however to Y/n's dismay he then began to walk away.

"don't leave me." she managed to blurt out, worried he was going to leave her alone to sleep.

"Jus' popping downstairs to get u some medicine my love, don't worry I'll come straight back."

And true to his word he did. At this point however, Y/n was already drifting off.

"Not yet love." Harry spoke, endearingly passing her two nausea pills and a glass of water. "Take these and then you can sleep I promise"

Harry then got into bed next to Y/n, careful not to touch her in worry of it causing her to feel ill again.

"Harry" Y/n muttered on the brink of collapse.

"yeah baby" he replied, looking at her in the darkness.

"please can you hold me?" She whined, just wanting to feel him close.

"of course love." Harry gently grabbed Y/n guiding her to his chest where he placed one arm on her head and the other around her waist.

snuggling her head deep into his neck, Y/n spoke once more "Thank you for always looking after me Harry."

"Of course my love, in sickness and in health."

A/N: His guys, this is my first fic on this account as my other account got deleted :(. If you could show this some love that would be great!! im also taking requests so if you want anything im totally happy to write whatever. hope u have an amazing day!!!

[mayasaurusss]

TRANSFEM VIRGIN JACKIE TAYLOR X READER PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Transfem virgin Jackie Taylor blurbs

Contains: transfem Jackie, smut, 1700 k words blurb.

A/N: I'm so sorry to have delayed this for so long anon😥. I promise that next time I'll do it quicker and also more explicit🙇‍♀️

It's not as explicit as my other recent Lucy nsfw blurb, but I hope you guys will enjoy it still!

P.s i know that's Rhiannon in the photo, just pretend it's Jackie alright?

Jackie who survived the wilderness, who has come out of it scarred and traumatized. She has seen death and famine, and her personality and mental health become severely affected. She is introverted, shy and her outgoing personality has been frozen under pain and nightmares.

But she pulls through, and manages to go to college like she had wanted. She thinks that she can make a new life for herself, but as it turns out, college life isn't what she is supposed to be: making friends is hard, exams are tough and her professors are just shitty people. After all she has been through, she doesn't think that she'll be able to have any friendship ever again, not like the one she had with Shauna, anyway.

She doesn't have any roommates until you show up. One day you just barge in her room, suitcase in hand and say "I'm your new roommate!". Truth to be told, as much as she wishes for a friend, Jackie would rather have some peace and quiet. That's what she says to herself anyway, until your company starts to grow on her. She didn't really understand how lonely she was. You guys start to spend your nights together, playing card games, chit chatting, watching movies on Netflix and so on. But slowly, something happens to Jackie's heart. Nothing major, of course, but she feels...weird. Why does her heart throb when she sees you? And what about the butterflies in her stomach? Why is she jealous when other guys and girls flirt with you? And why is she so damned angry at you for not realizing their intentions?

Maybe she is just envious or jealous, but the thought of other people trying to get in your pants makes her angry. For a while, she thinks she's being unreasonable: you are her first friend after the incident; of course she'd want to gatekeep your relationship. And after all, she seems only to attract people who will hurt her and who she will hurt. She distances herself from you, thinking that maybe "I'll be a bad influence, I should just leave them alone". But then one day, she makes a connection.

You have been gone to class for half of the day, leaving her alone inside your dorm room. She needs a little bit of space, and she has been stressed for a while.

She watches as two women grind against each other's bodies on her phone, their skin sweaty and their kisses passionate. One of them pulls out a strap and ties it to her hips, sinking it inside the other's. Jackie sits underneath her covers, stroking herself, curling her fingertips downward at the base, when a thought flashes inside her mind. "Wish we could do that..." and her brain immediatley swaps the bottom's face with yours, interchanging you between the dominating and the dominated. Her heart races, thoughts of you two on her bed, together, grinding against each other... and then kissing tenderly after all is done, giggling and falling asleep together. The feeling inside Jackie's heart is warm, so good that it makes her ache. And as she comes down from her high, she puts two and two together: she has already felt this way once, long ago in the cold of the wilderness, and recalls the pain of how she felt when she had-. Jackie stops and understands, an almost guttural "Fuck!" comes out of her throat.

And as if the situation is not bad enough, you come in a few minutes after her little panic attack. She's still naked underneath the covers, goosebumps travel along her skin when she sees you coming in. She makes an effort in justifying why she was naked underneath, "I just sleep this way when I'm hot, you know?" you make no remark on how it's november and her covers aren't warm enough to sleep under unless she wears something, but oh well.

Jackie who feels embarrassed to masturbate from then on. No matter how hard she tries, you're inside her mind, constantly. She tries to muffle her moans on her covers, stroking up and down her length with you sleeping soundly on your bed. You'd be horrified, she thinks, at the images she has of you in her mind: above her bouncing and with your hands at her throat, beneath her on all fours, cuddled in her arms while she moves from behind...

Jackie who has a hard time going to her lessons because no matter what she does, you just seem to not get out of her head. She needs you to have her in your arms, kissing her. Who has to go out of class early to take care of her little problem.

Jackie, who feels bad about masturbating with you in her mind, who feels dirty and unlovable as she does so, but she can't help it, her body can't help it. And all the while, a little voice tells her that "You're not good enough" and "They won't love you, How could they love you of all people? She didn't love you, he didn't love you; why should they? ".

Jackie who steals glances of you, imagining your hands on her chest, your lips on hers. Who yearns to kiss you so bad it hurts. Who has to go to the bathroom at least once per night whenever you two are spending time together. You don't know what she is doing, but shrug off your concerns.

Jackie who finally gets caught by you. You stand outside the doom room, listening to the sounds coming from the other side. Moans, groans, wet movements and little slips of your name here and there make it obvious to you what Jackie is doing. You slip inside the room, as slowly and quietly as possible, watching how Jackie is bucking up in her hand, hips chasing upwards the feeling. You smile, deciding to approach her with a simple "Hey" but your voice gives Jackie a small heart attack and she shouts, covering her body as best as she can, leaving her chest out in the open and her legs uncovered.

"How...how long have you been there?" she asks, blood freezing with shame and mind racing, trying to understand if you've heard her say your name. "Long enough to understand what's going on" you sit on the bed, too close for her liking, giving her a knowing smirk that she already knows the meaning of. "You were thinking about me, weren't you?" her body stops, missing heartbeats and air. She can feel tears prickling at her skin, but you quickly say to her "I-No Jackie, I liked it". From then on, you tell her how you wished to do the first step, but how you were always so scared that she might've not liked you, how you yearned for her lips on yours. The moment you two are done talking about your feelings, you all but leap into each other's arms.

Jackie who can't help but get hard almost instantly. She can feel blood traveling through her veins, pooling at her crotch, warming her skin and flesh. Who will have to clench her hand around her cock to ground herself, to avoid cumming just from kissing you. She will feel so good from just kissing you that a drop of cum falls from her slit, signaling just how full she is, ready to let all of her pleasure out.

Jackie who feels so incredibly good when you ignore her cock and press two fingers beneath her balls, mimicking fingering her. She's already so hard as it is, and your actions only serve to egg her on more.

Jackie whose hands are shaky as she undresses you, full of eagerness and craving every part of you. Who, as soon as your chest is naked, will plant wet open mouth kisses on any inch of your skin, feeling your muscles harden against her ministrations.

Jackie who will climb on you, cock pressed between your and her stomachs, grinding back and forth. Who will get off like that, grinding on your stomach. Who will spend her time under your crotch, head pressed in between your hips and the mattress. Who will feel euphoric and decide to not touch herself in any way.

Jackie who's cock throbs in need, tip and balls red as she desperately tries to hold it in, wanting only your hands on her.

Jackie who confesses, as you are about to push her length in, that she is a virgin. She sweats and apologizes, already ready for you to leave her hanging, but then lets out a loud gasp when she's finally stilled inside of you.

Jackie who trembles as you ride her into oblivion, hands shaky gripping with force at your sides, short of breath and eyes rolling backwards. She has never felt this way with anyone else, not Jeff nor Shauna, just with you. It's euphoric, it's amazing, and she doesn't wish you to stop anytime soon.

Jackie who has very low stamina but a super high libido. She'll release the precum already five minutes after you start to bounce on her, staining white the condom she wore, panting like she just crossed the line in a marathon run. You haven't even cummed yet, and as you're about to hop off of her, she grabs your hips again and mumbles incoherently, grinding you back against her as she starts to harden again.

Jackie who at one point, decides to move you and fuck you from above, fingers gripping the sheet near your head. She moves erratically, gasping and panting and moaning, her hips pushing into you at a speed you didn't even know she was capable of. Her cheeks are as red as a tomato, lips coming to settle on yours as she moves back and forth, back and forth.

Jackie who, when she cums, sees stars behind her eyelids and feels like she's about to faint.

Jackie who falls asleep almost immediatley between your arms, snoozing off with the knowledge that she has finally found someone to rely on.

[erwinsvow]

hiii if you don’t want to pls do not take this as being pushy BUT….. i would just like you to know I’d go feral in the best of ways if you elaborated on your thoughts about jack and robby sharing 4th year med student reader… im really irregular about it like i might actually lose my mind

im barking at you... thank you for giving me the platform i needed. promise this WILL be written one day.. i think three weeks after binging the show my frontal lobe developed and i have a crush on robby now

someone else sent a yummy ask about being robby's gf who gets shared with jack, so i'll answer that soon but this is the reverse, since jack and 4th year reader in eavesdropping are together. this can be a lil spin off universe, let's say it's not as sweet and clear of a relationship just yet. throuple time!!!!!!

where to begin...!!! jack is a little grumpy, but mostly good-humored and he has a real knack for teaching, inspires confidence and makes people believe in themselves. he's just good at it, which is why him and fourth year reader are so good together! he helps her grow and learn things and she's a very sweet ball of sunshine which is exactly what a grumpy old man needs. and this is ME, so obviously, four year reader fixes a lot of the things jack feels sad about. helps him get through tough losses, reassures him that he's done everything he can, because even the teacher needs to hear it sometimes. it's not an easy profession and you're not even a full fledged doctor yet, so the responsibility isn't on you yet, even though it will be soon.

well fourth year reader does a few weeks of night shift with jack. they start seeing each other. jack's mood is a lot different for the month after that, even though fourth year reader eventually goes to another hospital for an audition. and then jack's mood goes down again. and robby is a good friend, so he notices. teases jack about it. "you like her, huh?" robby, at this point, has no idea. thinks jack is sweet on a twenty something medical student which just makes him laugh—but then he does remember that it's you. you worked with robby before you worked with jack.

you find the optimism in every depressing situation. you take his moments of silent reflection extremely seriously. you used to thank robby for every procedure he let you do, thanked him for trusting you and teaching you. and maybe you had a little crush on him too before you went over to night shift. what's so wrong with that—the hospital is filled with handsome attendings, and you've got two of them doting on you during your audition. and it's harmless, you think, since you don't think either of them can go anywhere, that they'll actually do something about it. and that's just kind of your personality, too sweet, too nice, too sunshiney. if old guys love it, then that's just the way it rolls.

it's not so much anything as it is the way you are. looking up at your attendings like they hung the moon because they tell you good job, great work, that you're doing something perfect, that you're making an excellent provider. maybe you get a high satisfaction rating or something one day after robby got chewed out about it and he sees you making an effort, listening to him, even more than you already did. and for jack, well i summed it up in a nice 10k but he wants to make you more confident, wants you to believe in yourself so when you come here in july for residency as an intern, you're going to be totally prepared.

so yes, robby is a little peeved that jack got you first. he didn't think abbot would actually do it. you're not the first medical student to have a crush on the attendings, nor will you be the last. he just thought for the sake of propriety, for the sake of hr, that you were off-limits for both of them. robby's a little grumpy about it—and you're on day shift with him for the next month and you hate when people are mad at you, especially your attending who is also jack's best friend who is also a man you still harbor a tiny little crush on, someone you want to impress everyday. so you talk to jack and he promises to figure out what's going on, and jack and robby have a beer, and then maybe a few too many beers, and robby goes i met her first, and jack knows about your thing with praise and approval and he knows you won't rest until you have robby's back. (he's also not stupid, he knows how you look at robby.) he thinks he has a solution to make everyone happy. so after a really bad day when the three of you get together and have dinner and go through a couple bottles of wine it is no surprise that you little crush on robby comes up.

and you don't think it's that big of a deal—half the hospital has a crush on the two men staring at you right now. you tell him that he always tells you good job and it just started getting to you, both of them started getting to you. and then robby says something about "well if i had known you were going to decide so early i would have argued my case harder." and then you're confused because as silly as your crushes seemed, you hadn't put two and two together that they both like you too. and then jack says "maybe we can figure something out, right sweetheart?" and maybe it's the wine and the fact that you have two grumpy old men that are somehow only sweet on you staring at you like you're not going to be able to walk tomorrow, but i think that might get to me. would you agree?

anyways, it's kinda funny because in eavesdropping (this is not in that universe again its just a spin off lil thing) she was a virgin and now it's like a couple months later and you're getting spit roasted by robby and jack. at first jack just watches—watches robby eat you out until you're shaking all over, watches you struggle to fit his best friend inside of you, but he's not really just a sit back and not partake in the fun kind of a guy, so he shows robby that thing he does with his fingers that makes you cum so hard you black out. then robby tries it.

when they have a bad day, it's like stress relief. robby's favorite thing to do at the end of a really terrible shift is to take out his frustration on you while jack keeps track of your orgasms. jack prefers to be ridden, so that's what you do, while robby watches. when you have a bad day it's the best though, you get spoiled and pampered and praised like there is no tomorrow, until you can't even think about anything else but how good and perfect you are.

it's honestly kind of hilarious at work. depending on if you're on day or night, you get stolen kisses and told good job for every single thing that you do. everyone just thinks that you're the favorite, the teacher's pet. and you totally would be, with how much you learn from those two just being around them. pillow talk consists of discussions about scientific journals and army medic procedures that work in a pinch in the trauma bay and the first time robby and jack saw this or that and what they did to save the patient. you guess you are a teacher's pet—easy enough when your teachers hover over you, one asking the questions and the other depriving you of your orgasm until you get it right.

i think one day dana catches robby kissing you during the day shift in the ambulance bay while she's smoking, and then as you guys are leaving, she catches jack kissing you (in front of robby) as you two head home. none of you would have seen her so no one knows what she knows, but occasionally if you come in sore and tired, lying through your teeth saying it's because you went too hard in pilates, she snorts and says "yeah, i bet." <3

[captainlunaxmen]

Dragon's Healer

Chapter 1

Daemyra x fem!reader (very brief mention of Harwin Strong x fem!reader)

Dark!Aemond x fem!reader (in future chapters)

I'm trying new things... I just hope you'll like it.

Let me know if you want to be tagging future chapter and let me know what you think❤️

Chapter summary: The reader is Rhaenyra's lady-in-waiting. They share more than a friendship. This, first chapter follows the events leading to the questioning of Luke's legitimacy.

Warning: death, hinting at infertility, very very vague hint to rape.

I walk as quickly as I can, trying to hide my excitement and eagerness from the eyes of the courts, towards Rhaenyra's chambers.

The maesters apparently needed more ointments right this morning, adding to Rhaenyra not wanting me to help her through labour, I suspect I'll be the last one to see the baby. Once I notice I'm alone, I literally rush to her door and knock softly on it.

"It's me." I softly say, "may I, princess?"

"Come in." Her muffled voice comes from beside the door.

I open the doors, quick to close them again when I see Harwin Strong holding the newborn. I fondly smile at him then my eyes fall to Rhaenyra's tired figure.

"How are you feeling, princess?" I ask, walking to stand next to Harwin looking at the baby.

"You already know the answer." She weakly chuckles.

"He's so pretty." I say and look at the guard nodding his head, "he got your nose."

"And the family's insolence, apparently." Rhaenyra adds and I chuckle, "I believe he might have your mouth."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, my dear." I sadly tell her, smiling nonetheless.

"You know you're his mother just as I am." She tells me firmly.

"She's not wrong." Harwin agrees and I playfully glare at him.

"It's a nice thought." I say, caressing the little boy's cheek with a finger.

"Well, Jace and Luke consider you like a second mother." She insists.

"It's not the same thing."

"You love them like they were your own. They can feel it." Harwin says softly, making me look up at him catching his loving gaze on me.

"Don't look at me like that." I jokingly scold him.

"You know, I think he took her insolence." He teases, talking to the Targaryen princess.

"She's part of the family, my statement remains truthful." She smiles brightly and I decide it's time to join her on the small couch.

"Are you okay?" I check on her.

"I am."

"Why are you all dressed?" I ask, just noticing her wearing one of her dresses.

"The queen wanted to see the baby." She sighs, I'm at loss for words, briefly looking at Harwin.

"Right after you gave birth?" I ask and she nods, "gods... couldn't she come herself?"

"And give her the satisfaction?"

I sighs deeply, shaking my head.

"Let's just hope he won't take after you in stubbornness." I softly smile at her, caressing her cheek with my hand, she moves hers to gently grab mine and hold it to her. "Do you need anything?"

"I promise you, I'm fine." She nods, letting my hand go.

"So... does he have a name already or?" I ask, standing up again to walk to the baby in Harwin's arms.

"Jeoffrey." Rhaenyra answers.

"Jeoffrey?"

"Laenor chose it." She tells me. That gives me everything I need to understand, I nod my head and go back at looking at Jeoffrey.

"So so pretty."

"You two would look amazing as parent." I hear Rhaenyra's soft voice commenting. I sadly smile at Harwin, he returns it.

"May I?" I ask him to hold the baby.

"Oh of course, my lady." He says, carefully passing the baby into my arms, "I have duties to attend to anyway."

"Go and protect us, Commander." I smile at him.

"Princess." He nods at Rhaenyra, "my lady." He nods at me, I see him linger for a moment before exiting the room.

I walk to Rhaenyra, rocking the baby in my arms to keep him asleep.

"He's really pretty, love." I say.

"After all the effort I put, I hope so." She smiles.

"Did Alicent say anything?" I ask.

"Nothing... as always she merely implies things." She winces slightly sitting up.

"Careful." I scold her, "get some rest."

"Yes, yes," she dismisses me, "I meant it, you know."

"What?" I absently ask, smiling at the baby as I put him in his crib.

"You and Harwin would make amazing parents."

"Rhae... you know I can't..." I sadly say, sitting with her.

"You never tried again..." she gently takes my hand.

"The maesters said it's impossible... and I don't see it happening with Harwin... not after all these allegations, at least." I squeeze her hand, "it's okay, you said Luke and Jace consider me like a mother... that's enough."

"But..." she sighs, determined, I admire how even in her tired condition she's still stubborn as always, "maybe your condition changed and..."

"Rhaenyra," I stop her, "I've never bled... I've never... before your parents took me in, there have been situations in which I could've... fallen pregnant, yet... I never did, in those cases thankfully, but still... I don't think it will ever happen" I sadly explain to her, "it's okay. And, I mean, marrying the commander would probably imply me moving away from here. Him becoming lord and me his lady wife... would you want me away?"

"I would never, you know that. I just see you with Jace and Luke... even with Alicent's children. And you deserve it." Her smiles warms my heart.

"I'm happy as I am. I promise you." I lean to kiss her softly.

She kisses me back, I can feel she's still tired from labour, so I let her lay a little more.

"If it ever becomes too much for you, I want you to tell me, please?" She tells me, firmly but keeping a hint of sweetness in her tone.

"Is that an order, princess?" I tease.

"It definitely is." She grins, "and just you wait until I'm fully recovered."

"Ooh is that a threat?" I grin too, standing up.

"It depends on how wet it gets you." She winks and I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Her grins only widens, "I got my answer."

"Oh, fine... let me get you to bed so you can rest and stop teasing me." I offer my arm to her, she gladly takes it and let me guide her to her bed.

"Just you wait." She teases.

"I'll wait." I smile, "do you need anything? Want me to call a maid?"

"I'm fine, my love." She reassures me, "I'll see you later."

"Alright. Rest, princess." I say before leaving her chambers.

--------------

I got announced by the guard, not that I care much to wait as I enter the room, glad to have found Alicent.

Before I could start speaking, I notice Aemond's hurt expression.

"What happened?" I ask, confused as I also notice the boy's state.

"He went into the caves to... claim a dragon." The queen sighs deeply.

"Again?" I ask, turning to Aemond, his hurt expression turns slightly into one of shame, almost, and I too sigh, "what did they do?"

"What do you think they did?" Alicent slightly snaps at me. "Those kids made fun of him again.."

"I'm not asking you." I state, firmly, "you weren't there, were you? Tough, I'm pretty sure your oldest son was." I glare at her accusations, "you were too busy summoning a woman who had just given birth to show you the baby."

"I didn't as-"

"We can talk about it later, your highness." I cut her off, "that is not the pressing matter right now, don't you think?"

"It is not." She reluctantly agrees, "that's why I need to speak with the king about it." She then adress her son, "remember what we said."

Aemond nods, not exactly convinced, but he does. Alicent gives me a look before exiting the room.

I let out a long sigh, then I cross my arms in front of me and look at Aemond, who keeps avoiding my eyes, looking down at the floor.

"So? Should I try to guess or you want to tell me?" I adress the matter again, the boy briefly looks at me before letting out a puff of breath.

"They made fun of me again." He simply says.

"Yes, your mother said so." I nod, "but what happened?"

"They dressed a pig like a dragon... they made wings and all." He explains, looking at the ground.

I face soften, now noticing a small bruise on his forehead.

"Come, let's put something on that bruise." I motion for him to go sit by the table.

I walk to him as I take out a small bottle from the bag I always carry around, and a small tissue.

"Why do you think I don't have a dragon?" He suddenly asks, before I could raise the tissue, I stop my movement and sigh, lowering my arm.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not the right person to ask that."I say softly, raising again my hand and finally cure his small wound.

"You can't stop it anymore." I hear Haelena mutter, I pay her no mind for now, I instead focus on Aemond.

"I don't understand it." He says.

"Maybe you're destined to claim one of the famous unclaimed dragons. Or maybe you just need to wait a little longer than them." I sigh, softly, hoping to make him feel at ease, "regardless, do not listen to their mockery. You all are still kids, nothing you say or do is always what you truly mean. Don't take their action to heart, you are not what they claim."

"And what am I?" He asks, almost defeated. I out down the tissue, and I make sure he looks at me.

"You are a smart kid, I've never seen anyone learning old valyrian as fast as you. You understand things on a deeper level, you're not defined by a dragon. Remember that, okay?" I urge him, he nods and I sweetly smile at him, patting his shoulder and standing up, "and never say never, maybe you'll claim a dragon tomorrow," I walk to the door, " or the day after, or the day after that. Now c'mon, I believe you have training with Cole."

"Yes, I do." He nods and he walks towards me.

"I guess I'll try," I whisper, "Haelena, would you like to join me in the gardens?"

"I'd like to, but I'm needed here." She says, flatly.

I look at Aemond who shrugs and shakes his head.

"If you change you mind, send for me." I wait a moment for an answer that never comes, and with Aemond walk out towards the training ground.

--------------

As soon as I heard what happened with Cole, I went looking for Harwin, hoping to find him alone.

I'm lucky enough to find him alone, I saw his father walking away, understandably upset. I walk to him and, silently, I tell him to follow me.

Once we're in a more secluded area, I check one more time in case there are unwanted ears nearby. Then I turn to him.

"What were you thinking?!" I whisper yell at him.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I couldn't see anymore." He softly says, looking down.

"Clearly." I sternly reply.

"I just... he treats them with less respect then the queen's, he-"

"I know that. He's always done that, what the fuck happened for you to hit him?" I ask, frustrated, I'm scared something bad could happen to him.

"He wasn't giving them any useful instructions, cruelty instead of tactics, then the insinuating started..." he explains.

"Harwin..." I sigh, "people's been insinuating since Jace was born, why lose your temper for something Cole ever said? He's just a bitter man, finding comfort in humiliation and cruelty."

"He tried to subtly call you a whore." He finally raises his eyes to meet mine, "tried, because I didn't let him finish the sentence."

His proud smirk make me chuckle a little, but I recollect myself quickly.

"Everyone has called me that at some point, Harwin, it's not the worts I've heard." I take him hands in mine, "they've called me worse than that." When I catch his questioning look I go on, "I've been called an opportunist, I've been called a snake, a non-woman, broken or contagious... whore is just... nothing."

"I couldn't stand him saying it." He grits his teeth in frustration, "and you're not broken, you-"

"Harwin, while I appreciate it when you compliment me and are so sweet to me, this is serious. You could be sent away." I remind him.

"My father was kind enough to explain it again." He rolls his eyes.

"Well he's right, your outburst will be used as fuel to all the rumours." I scold him, "it's treason, Harwin."

"He said that too." He look away again, annoyed, annoyed because he's know we're right.

I sigh, closing the distance between us, to make him look at me.

"I don't want to lose you, Harwin." I say, "I can't."

I see his eyes softening, he leans his forehead on mine.

"You won't." He pulls back a little to look at me, "you know, I've always dreamed of running away with you."

"You've said that, maybe once... or twice." I cheekly smile at him, trying to hide my own fear.

"Taking two horses and run ride away, just us." He softly whispers, "but I never asked."

"You know I-"

"You couldn't leave her." He finishes for me, "I know, and I couldn't ask you to leave her behind. I wouldn't ask you to."

He lifts my chin just enough to leave a small kiss on my lips.

"Don't ask me to say goodbye to you either." I warn him, "I won't."

"I know." He kisses me again.

--------------

I didn't say goodbye.

I didn't. I simply watched Harwin leave with his father. I cought for a moment his eyes on me as he left, and I wanted to go to him, but I couldn't.

The days after that have been... caotic to say the least. After Harwin departure Rhaenyra decided to move the whole family to Dragonstone and Rhaenyra and I tried to comfort each other. The news of Harwin's death, still fresh, broke something in me.

"I'm really sorry, my love." She told me one night as we sat in front of the fire.

"It's not your fault in any way, Rhae. Do not blame yourself." I tell her.

"If I let you marry Harwin, maybe you-"

"You didn't force me to stay by your side, Rhae, I wanted to. Harwin understood that, if anything, he deserved better than me." I sighed, "he deserved better."

"You chose to stay with me, like he chose you. He wanted to be with you, and see you happy, that's what he cared about." She told me, sternly, to avoid me entering a bad place in my mind.

We didn't say more, we just held each other in front of the fire.

But the days after that were even crazier, Laena's death was like a thunder while the sky is clear, unexpected and shocking, and so was Laenor's "death", at least to Rhaenys and Corlys. A cruel, but necessary mean to an end.

But I still remember the incident so well...

I remember hearing noises outside my chambers, I arrived to a room where Jace and Luke's bloodied faces greeted me.

"What happened?!" I exclaimed kneeling in front of them and checking their wounds.

"Ask them." Alicent furious tone told me.

I looked up at her, just then noticing Aemond sitting with a Measter close to check him. I walk to see why he deserved more care than the others and saw his wound.

"Gods..." I exhaled, "how..?"

"I told you to ask them." Alicent repeated.

I watched Alicent closely, then I looked at Jace and Luke, Rhaena and Baela scared close to them.

I looked back at Aemond and the Maester's work.

"Leave it, you're butchering his eye." I tried to shove him to take his place.

"He was-" Alicent started.

"Butchers do cleaner jobs, I assure you, my queen." I said, taking the needle and started to stitch the wound myself, along with my oils, "just hang on a little longer, my prince."

"How could you allow such a thing to happen?" King Viserys demanded "I will have answers."

"The princes were supposed to be abed, my King." Harrold answered.

Alicent came right next to me to check in on his son, I let her because I understood her anxiety.

"Who had the watch?" Viserys kept his interrogation going.

"Young Prince was attacked by his own cousins, your grace." Criston chimed in and I forced myself to contain a scoff.

"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!" The King exclaimed, furious.

"The kings guard has never had to defend princes from princes, your grace." Criston tried to defend himself.

"That is no answer." Viserys shouted at him.

"It will heal, will it not?" Alicent asked, "will it not, lady Y/n?"

I could feel all eyes on me.

"I..." I sighed, keeping my hand as steady as possible, "the flesh will heal. Yes. But, I'm afraid, the eye is lost."

"Where were you?" Alicent stood up abruptly to ask Aegon.

"Alicent.." I tried to calm her, since I finished with Aemond's wound.

"Me?" Aegon couldn't even ask before Alicent slapped him, "what was that for?"

"Thay was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool"

"I'll get you some oils to keep on in to make it heal faster," I told Aemond, "and you just lost an eye, your life is not over. Remember that."

In that exact moment, Corlys and Rhaenys arrived demanding explanation.

I stood to better check on Luke and Jace, when Rhaenyra came in too, followed by Daemon. When I met his eyes, his usual smirk made its way to his face, and he winked at me.

"Are they okay?" Rhae's voice was what got me our of staring at Daemon.

"Uh, yes, yes, just a few scratches, princess." I assured her.

"Who did this?" She asked.

"They attacked me!" Aemond immediately answered, starting a chorus of children shouting to be heard.

I deeply sighed, and looked again at Daemon, the smug expression ever present, I looked at Rhaenyra as they all fight back and forth, alost tuning out their voices. I suspected they did... something. Rhaenyra always felt a pull towards her uncle, not that I couldn't blame her, but I was worried said something could've had consequences.

When my eyes landed on Alicent's hand holding Visrys' dagger walking directly to Rhaenyra, I snapped out my dazed state wanting to put myself in between them, but Rhaenys' hand held my elbow.

"Do not mourn me, Mother." Aemond started to speak earning the attention of all presents, "it was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon." He finished, proud of himself.

"This proceeding is at an end." The King commanded.

Just then, Rhaenys let me go, letting me walk by her side to check on the cut the dagger left.

Daemon joining our side of the room as well.

Something that night shifted, not in the best way.

--------------

The sun coming from the big windows puts a smile on my face as I watch Daemon walking back to the castle, the hard look on his face creates a confused frown on my face.

"Something happened?" I ask once he's close enough, "the eggs?"

"Three healthy eggs," he assures me, caressing my cheek briefly.

"Then what's troubling you?" I ask.

"A raven." He answers, handing me said raven, "Vaemond wants to question Luke's claim to Driftmark."

I groan in frustration.

"I always hated that man." I say, following him inside.

"Makes me want to test the sharpness of my sword on him." He grins, clearly annoyed by the news.

"That's a wonderful idea." I agree.

"Don't agree with me on this, it turns me on." He playfully warns me, to which I respond with a little shove.

"It seems we have a message to report, my prince." I remind him.

"We sure do, my lady." The seriousness is back on his face and together we join Rhaenyra in the map room with Jace.

"Leave us." Rhaenyra commands as soon as she sees us.

Jace takes Jeoffrey and with the maesters and the handmaid, exits the room.

Daemon and I walk closer to the Princess, she looks at us with a mix of intrigued and perplexed expression.

I give her the message and she reads it. Me and Daemon waiting patiently.

"He means to call into question Luke's legitimacy," she realises, in disbelief, "and by extension Jace, and by extension my own clain to the throne."

I gently grab her hand to reassure her.

"Vaemond cares only about Driftmark and the Velaryon line." Daemon explains, "not about out politics. Has he made common cause with Otto Hightower yet?"

"Mh, this is what I fear." Rhaenyra humms, re-reading the letter, "Rhaenys has flown to court." She looks at me, her own gear moving in her head.

"She can't be planning to uphold his intentions." I assure her.

"No, exactly," Daemon agrees with me, "whatever disagreements we may have had, she's not cruel... or stupid enough to do that."

"Disagreements?" Rhaenyra questions, "she believes we had her son killed so that we might marry." She specifies.

"Yes... and yet, she's taken Baela to ward." Daemon tries to reassure her.

"Yes. It is Laena's memory she honors. She has no love for us."

"Has the vipers' venom spread so far?" He smirks, almost challenging.

"Those vipers rule in my father's name, and my father..." she sighs, defeated, "what choice do I have?"

"We defend." I tell her.

Daemon gently strokes Rhaenyra's belly with one hand, and with the other brush a finger on my cheek affectionately.

"To King's Landing, then."

--------------

Letting Rhaenyra and Daemon arrive a day before me was my intention, they're married, I'm just her lady-in-waiting to the court's eyes, so I insisted on them arriving on their own.

When I do arrive I sense immediately the tension in the air, symbols on the Sevens are hanged around the castle, instead of the Targaryen's crest. I try to ignore this feeling of uneasiness as I walk the vaguely familiar corridors.

"Y/n." I hear a familiar voice calling from behind me.

"My queen." I say as soon as I turn around, bowing to her. She gets closer, followed by Criston Cole as always.

"It's good to see you again." She kindly greets me, gently taking my hands.

"I share the sentiment my queen, these years have been kind to you," I smile at her, "beautiful as always."

Seeing her here, in front of me again after that night, all memories of us three together years and years ago making their way to the surface.

"You're still too kind," she smile, almost forced because she's not used to it anymore, "you're even more beautiful than I remember, my lady."

"Thank you, your highness," I thank her, quickly glancing at Cole beside her, "I was heading to the King's chamber, I wish to say hello."

"I'm afraid he's resting," she quickly tells me, "princess Rhaenyra's arrival was a lot for him."

"Is his condition that severe?" I ask, worried.

"I'm afraid so." She apologetically replies, "maybe after the council today."

"Will he be present?" I ask, hopeful.

"The masesters are opposed to the idea," she explains.

"Let me see him, maybe I can help." I insist.

"He does need his rest, my lady," she sternly says.

I swallow my tongue and cease my questions.

"Very well, my queen." I bow once again, "I'll go visit the library then, the gods know I missed King's Landing's library."

Alicent merely nods and lets me go without any more words.

I can't help all the suspects forming in my mind, I try to shake then out of my head, maybe I'm just exaggerating. I focus on remembering the route to the library instead, and thankfully I find it pretty easily. Juste as easily I get lost in the books.

I find a book I used to read all the time, a book about herbs and art in ancient times.

I get so lost in the book, I get startled when I suddenly hear footsteps behind me, turning around immediately.

"Apologies, my lady, I didn't mean to stratle you." The man in front of me says.

"Nothing to apologise for, I was merely lost in the book, I..." I trail off as I look at him better, noticing an eyepatch, "Aemond?"

[split-spectrum]

Concessions

Chapter 4

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, orgasm denial, edging, porn with very little plot

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that forbids him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him. The rules of the trial are very clear. You make it your personal mission to find every exception.

☆☆☆

"Perhaps you should go," Obi Wan says, turning away from you after he closes the door to his quarters.

"I will," you assure him, already coming closer, not willing to let him put any distance between you. "Just as soon as we're finished."

He glances back at you, raising his brows in that helpless way of his, looking decidedly done with your antics, yet ravenously aroused despite it all. "We both have commitments in the morning."

You step around him, sliding your hands beneath his robe and dropping it to the floor, running your palms down his chest and pushing him firmly backward. "We'll be quick."

When his back hits the wall, a soft huffing noise leaves him. "Like we were in the detention cell?"

Your cheeks flush. Teasing him with soft licks, pulling off just to make him moan for you - to hear him plainly confess that you'd made him feel good... His accusation is embarrassingly well-founded. You clearly hadn't been speeding to the finish.

"Have it your way," you answer, voice as coolly detached as you can manage while everything in you is pulled tight, burning to touch him again. "I won't even use my mouth."

Your hand cups him through his clothes and he looks pained, almost sick. The creases in the corners of his eyes deepen and his face contorts into a scowl even as he lifts his chin and rests his head back against the wall to get a better view. He watches under heavy eyelids as you gather his pants and tug them down.

You lean into him, loving the way he twitches in your hand, and whisper close to his ear, "It'll be fast, promise."

He's still wearing that disapproving face when you squeeze him, already hard and throbbing between his legs. He's so pent up you can almost feel the heat radiating off of him. No matter how hard he pinches his brow, it doesn't help his case one bit. His eyes haven't left your hand for a moment. When you tug him, hot and dry and quick, your name falls from his mouth in a reflexively disapproving tone.

You just keep murmuring warm words against his neck. "Relax. Let me make you feel good."

A soft string of expletives drift through his clenched teeth. He's sucking air, hissing, trying to keep the stutter in his breath under control.

"I'll be honest, Obi Wan," you purr right next to his ear. "I am glad you didn't ask someone else. Having the chance to do this has been..."

You started the sentence with the intention to keep nudging him toward orgasm as fast as possible. Just running your mouth with whatever seductive words came to mind. But you've loosed a little too much of the truth, and you find you can't finish the thought.

Instead, you flick your wrist and curl your palm up and over his head, dragging through the precum that's been slowly pouring out of him since the detention cell. Your other hand slips down to cup his swollen balls, and he makes a strangled gasping sound.

"Fuck, mmm, there, it's-" he huffs through shaky breaths.

Again, he's saying, without saying it. You eagerly obey, stroking his cock and gently playing with his balls until his eyes have rolled back and he's starting to murmur filthy words you've never heard before.

"Oh, I'm close-" he chokes out after a few more moments of this; hardly any effort on your part. You're heaving your breaths right along with his, and you can almost feel how wide your pupils must be blown out right now, watching him writhing at your touch, right at the edge of coming. You feel perverted, eyes glued to his cock, only tearing up every few seconds to glimpse his sweaty, delirious face, waiting for the moment when his suffering turns to ecstasy.

"Come for me," you push. "I want to see it."

I want to taste it, you think, but you wonder if it might be too much to admit.

As if it's the first time it's occurred to him, Obi Wan opens his eyes to toss a quick, frantic glance at the table, and then around him.

"Blast, I hadn't-" his eyes roll closed again when you speed up your strokes, not wanting him to get distracted. His voice goes strained and airy. "Where- where shall I-"

It's so fastidious of him, wondering if he should make a mess of your clothes or the floor, and you can't help a little gush of adoration for him at the sight of his helpless, urgent face. You're about to give him your answer by falling to your knees when you hear a faint knocking sound.

Both of your hands still, and he drops the hem of his tunic to cover himself. Your eyes flick up to his.

"What was that?" you whisper, desperately hoping you can both agree to pretend you didn't hear it.

He swallows, giving a shake of head before looking frustratedly at the door.

You softly graze him a few times, not willing to give up. Not again.

"Master?" a small voice calls through the wood.

Obi Wan's eyes close and the mussed hair at the back of his head meets the wall as he releases a long, slow breath through his nose.

"Just a moment," he calls back, and you have to fight not to audibly groan.

You let him go when he tugs his pants back up, and you back across the room when he goes for the door. He stops to seemingly gather himself, silent and unmoving for a long moment before he opens it. The lights of the city illuminate the hall window behind the small figure in the doorway.

"Anakin," Obi Wan says with a slight tone of concern. "What is it?"

The boy isn't quite meeting his eyes. "I... had a nightmare."

Obi Wan sighs while Anakin looks off to the side. "My padawan..." he says softly, "we've discussed this before. You're getting too old for this... this..."

You can see, even in the dim light, how Anakin's little brow tightens, his downcast stare turning hard and sullen. Obi Wan doesn't finish his sentence. He just sighs again. "Come in."

Anakin finds you standing in the kitchen, pretending to find something to drink in the conservator. "Hi Ani," you greet him with a warm smile. It's not his fault, after all, that your evening is now hideously and irrevocably ruined. "You okay?"

His questioning stare turns shy again. "Yes, I'm okay."

"You can sleep in the main room," Obi Wan calls from behind him, already laying down blankets on the couch in what seems to be part of a too-familiar routine.

Anakin blushes and turns around, clearly not having expected to explain himself to anyone besides Obi Wan. Gratefully, you put down your juice and head for the door.

"We can work on that report some other time, Obi Wan," you tell him, catching his violently repressed gaze as you leave. "See you later."

"Of course," he answers, short and clipped. "Some other time."

--

'Some other time' arrives more swiftly than you'd expected.

You've seen more of him in the temple today than you can stand, really. You'd been obligated to participate in a training exhibition for a class of padawan learners, and when you'd walked in to see him in a tight-fitting undershirt, training rod in hand and soft, billowing pants hung loosely around his waist, you'd nearly turned around and walked out. The grappling portion of the demonstration had bordered on torture.

And at the end of the day, finally able to find some time alone in your quarters, there's one task more pressing than all others. You'd hardly made it through the door before you were stripping.

Perhaps it's unbefitting a young Jedi to find herself flushed, straining to remove her clothes, and shuffling beneath her covers to touch herself while thinking of another Jedi's warm breath tickling her ear, his legs wrapped around her waist as he'd pinned her to the ground. But you don't much care, at the moment. You're a luminous being, to be sure, but your body has been ignored for higher ideals all day.

Your middle finger is just about to brush the tip of your relief when your comlink finds the worst possible time to go off. Sucking air between your teeth, you sit up, pushing the covers back to check the screen and make sure you can ignore the call. Unfortunately, Master Plo's name is illuminated, and you quickly pull on your clothes and become a decent Jedi once again.

"...yes, Master. I'm sorry my last report was a bit further down the timeline than expected..."

"Oh, it isn't? Then how may I..."

"Oh, that's terrible..."

"... No, I have no other pressing matters..."

"... I see. Does- does Obi Wan know that you've asked me? Of course. Yes, I can leave right away..."

And that conversation is how you now find yourself requisitioning a ship at an unreasonably late hour, awaiting the arrival of Obi Wan and his padawan at the docks.

The path you'd charted for Master Plo's operation in the Shaltin Tunnels requires a stop near Florum for refueling. There are no alternate stops due to a recent dispute on Zygeria, meaning the one you'd planned is the only option. Unfortunately for everyone, pirates had gotten wind that there was only one feasible stop for Republic-friendly ships, and had threatened the private operators of the fuel depot, in an effort to commandeer the depot, and the profits. The pirates' plan had backfired, and rather than have their fuel in the hands of brigadeers and losing all their money, the fuel depot halted their supply line and closed business to relocate.

This essentially now means that no traffic can flow through the tunnels, but more importantly, it means that the mercy mission Plo had been planning for months to bring supplies to refugees of the Jedi-Zygerian conflict will be cancelled unless you can find a way to convince the fuel depot to reopen, at least temporarily, with the promise of Jedi protection.

It makes sense for him to have asked you. You're the one with the most up-to-date knowledge of navigating the tunnels. And Obi Wan, though still young, is already gaining a reputation as a skilled negotiator. You're the right team, no doubt.

The fact that heading to the Outer Rim will mean several days of hyperspace travel together, on a small ship, with nothing to do but kill time... that's the part that's making you tap your stylus on your data pad, biting your lip as you check your supply list for the seventh time.

At least it won't be just the two of you. Anakin will take up practically all of his time and attention, and while he's training his apprentice, you'll spend all your extra time in your personal quarters. You check the ship's layout again, to locate them.

Oh, wonderful - you have the largest available ship tonight, and there are no private quarters. Just one shared crew-rest room, with bunks built into the interior wall.

It's fine. Who needs privacy, anyway?

You're brought out of your thoughts when you hear Anakin and Obi Wan's voices approaching. It's hard to pinpoint where they are, in the dim light on the other side of the ship. You can hear them both, but Anakin's sounds fainter.

"Master, please, this isn't fair-"

"Fairness has nothing to do with it, young padawan. I need you to hear my words: Your lightsaber is your life. It's not simply another object, to be easily replaced."

"I know that, Master, I know-"

"If you knew, then you wouldn't be arguing."

You watch Obi Wan emerge from the shadows, talking to the small figure he's holding in his hand. Anakin's holoimage is scowling profusely.

"I shouldn't be punished just because my lightsaber got crushed. Something bad already happened to me, and now you're making it worse."

Obi Wan gives you a slight lift of his eyes in greeting as he nears you, bringing the conversation to an end. "Anakin, this is not a punishment, though it is a lesson. You must stay behind to attend the next gathering in a few days. I will not have you join me on a mission without a weapon."

There's a pause, Anakin's mouth screwed up in what you anticipate to be the start of another argument, but he eventually drops his head. "Yes, Master," he grouses, looking to the side.

"Goodnight, Anakin. May the Force aid you on your journey."

"Goodnight, Master," the sullen voice replies as Obi Wan marches past you, entering the cargo bay of the ship and shutting off his comlink.

You follow him inside, a smirk forthcoming despite your apprehension at hearing that Anakin won't be joining you.

Obi Wan sighs tiredly, then turns to look back at you. "Well, is everything ready?"

"It is," you answer, then let your smirk loose. "Anakin's lost another lightsaber? Hopefully he's learning his lesson this time."

"It isn't a lesson," He says dismissively as he strides over to the pilot's controls, pulling up the ship's schematic. "It's a punishment."

You lift your eyebrows in amusement, following him.

"Either way..." you drawl, folding your arms as you lean against the console next to him, datapad hanging casually over your elbow. "Looks like it's just the two of us."

He looks up at you, then back to the screen, and flicks his eyebrows without looking at you to indicate he'd heard what you said. But he doesn't say anything back.

"So," you go on, carefully testing the waters, "I was wondering... should these be on the list, or no?"

You uncross your arms, turning the datapad so he can see the supply list, scrolled to the bottom where the last item reads 'binders'.

He frowns thoughtfully. "I don't forsee any need to take prisoners."

You shift against the console, loosing a breath. Is he intentionally making this difficult?

"Not for that."

"For-" His face drops. "Oh."

"I could... finish what we started," you offer, mustering your boldness.

"N-no," he stammers. You've never heard him stammer in your life. "I don't, uh..." He tilts his chin down, clearing his throat and evening out his tone. "I think we should focus on our mission."

A few long beats pass while you let your eyes dance over his face, working out his expression. He has to be so pent up right now, but you wouldn't know it from looking. You can't blame him, though, for not wanting to try after the most recent, painful denial.

"Okay," you say softly, a small smile in place. "We can focus on the mission."

You go back to studying your checklists as the bay doors close and Obi Wan locks in your coordinates. The lights of Coruscant are soon replaced with the lights of hyperspace, and all your interruptions and excuses are replaced with the cold, quiet hum of an empty ship.

--

Yawning as the caf finishes brewing, you take out one mug from the ship's small galley, and then a second. It's been a long day-cycle. You've both spent some time settling in, putting your supplies and belongings away, and now there's nothing left to do but to wait and to prepare.

Obi Wan has taken his place right back at the pilot's seat, one leg crossed over the other as he flips through screens on his datapad. You bring the two mugs with you as you make your way back over to him. Hooking your finger out from the side of your caf, you press a button on the wall that slides out a chair, and you bump the other mug against Obi Wan's shoulder as you take your seat.

"Caf?"

He glances at it, then hums his appreciation as he takes it from you. "Thank you."

You study him for a moment, then tilt your head. "Well?"

"Yes?" he asks without looking up.

"I thought we could talk about our plan of approach."

He lifts his gaze. "Our plan?"

You were sipping your drink, but you abruptly stop. "The mission?"

He taps the screen in his lap and it goes dark. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I have been tasked with negotiations. There is no need for both of us to be involved."

Your eyebrow wrenches violently upward, but you manage to keep your tone calm. "So, if you're the negotiator, that makes me the... what?"

"Navigator," he finishes easily.

"Navi-" You cut yourself off before you raise your voice. Then you try again. "If I didn't know better, I would say It sounds like you expect me to sit on the ship while you do all the work."

"You don't need to stay on the ship, but if you'll allow me the courtesy of taking the lead..."

Allow him the courtesy. You can't deny his skill in manipulation. He's already crowned himself captain of the team, and now he'll pretend to defer to your authority. You can hardly keep from rolling your eyes. But there's no point in arguing, as long as the job gets done.

You take a long sip to maintain your composure. "Alright. So what is your plan, then?"

He straightens his shoulders, then answers simply, "I haven't got a plan." When you widen your eyes, he quickly adds, "It isn't necessary."

"What do you mean it isn't necessary?"

He sighs, then uncrosses his leg and places his caf on the control panel. "Being overprepared before first contact can often do more harm than good. I don't wish to form any opinions until we meet."

You laugh a little, in disbelief. "You don't want to overprepare, so you make no plans at all?"

"The fuel depot is owned by humans, yet we do not know anything about them. Not what system they hail from, their enemies or allies... The only reliable information is that they seek to make credits, and they don't particularly care for pirates."

"Fine. No direct plan of approach," you allow. "Then why not at least practice some possible scenarios?"

"I would rather not."

"You'd rather not." You shake your head. "Why? Why not let me help you?"

"It just isn't necessary."

You let your irritation collapse into silence. If you were giving anyone else the look you're giving him, they would shrink in discomfort. But he meets your hard stare with one of his own, and you feel your pulse beginning to pound.

"I see now. This is about your ego."

You say it, and you stand up and walk away.

You convince yourself you're giving him the unflinching criticism of the Jedi, pointing out his flaws while not sparing his feelings. But as you turn your back to him, reaching again for the caf to top off your cup, you know you said it not only because it's true, but because it felt good.

"You can believe what you like," he says, and you hear him leave his chair. "But I have my own methods, and you should respect that."

You sniff a short laugh, not looking back at him. "Okay, sure. I'll respect your method of removing me from my own mission."

"That isn't a fair assessment. Each of us have certain strengths-"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" you interrupt. "Don't condescend to me, Obi Wan. You want the satisfaction of knowing you saved the day, again."

"I don't want anything, except to help Master Plo accomplish his goals."

"Unless it means that you don't make all the decisions along the way."

Suddenly, he's beside you, clearly tired of talking to your back. He puts his hand on the countertop next to your mug, and catches your eyes. "I don't find this amusing."

You raise your brows. "I wasn't joking."

"I won't have my integrity questioned."

You turn to him, arms folded. "I wasn't questioning your integrity. I just don't understand why you don't see me as an asset. It seems foolish."

He scoffs. "Of course I see you as an asset. And I am not trying to diminish your abilities-"

"It's funny to hear you insist upon that point, and yet-"

"Stars!" Obi Wan finally shouts over you. Then he rolls his eyes, looking off to the side in exasperation. "Why do you have to be so..."

You blink, startled by his outburst, and suddenly aware that you've slowly backed up against the side wall of the small galley area. You cross your arms tighter, bracing your back against it. "So... what?"

"So..." he trails off, seeming to be searching for the right word. "...abrasive."

"Abrasive?"

"Yes, and difficult," he says, voice softer, but holding an edge that hadn't been there before.

You let the comment hang between you, noting the tension in his jaw. He's still staring at you, unflinching. Usually he would apologize right about now. But when he doesn't back down, you tamp down the thrumming in your chest and take a breath before responding with as neutral a tone as you can manage. "If you find me so abrasive and difficult, then why have we been friends for as long as we have?"

He doesn't reply, just closes his mouth and stares through you. It looks like he's trying to come up with an answer, which makes you bristle.

"Why did you ask me for help with the Nikkama if you can't stand to be around me?" you push.

Your question clearly gets under his skin, and several odd emotions swim through his gaze before he finally answers. "Perhaps that was a mistake."

Your stomach drops. You hadn't expected that, but you won't give him the satisfaction of reacting. You shrug yourself up from the wall, making him back up a little, and slide out of the galley to head back to the crew quarters.

"Well, glad we have that clarified. I'm going to have a rest. If I have permission for that, Captain."

He calls your name as you walk away, and you don't bother to look back, pressing the button to close the door behind you.

--

You emerge from the refresher, towel-drying and still very on-edge, much later.

Alone in the crew quarters, you'd found meditation elusive in your current state, and decided to try a shower to clear your mind. It calmed you down a little, but Obi Wan's words are still needling you as you slide into your underclothes. They're going to be spinning in your head for a long time, you realize. Maybe this was a mistake, after all. Just like he'd said.

The soft fabric slips up your thighs as your towel drops to the floor, and you're just closing up the front of your bodice when the door to the room slides open.

Obi Wan doesn't see you at first, crossing over to where you're standing beside the bunks built into the wall. The lights in the room are turned down from when you'd been trying to meditate. When he looks up and sees you, he stops dead where he stands.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately to the floor. "I heard the refresher and I thought... thought I had time to- to..."

He's already halfway back to the door, not finishing his sentence, when you ask bluntly, "To what?"

"There is a datacard I need," he explains, still looking at the ground. "I will find it later. I apologize."

You scowl, pulling on your loose-flowing pants and tying them off at your waist. "Might as well get it now."

"No, it's not-"

"They're your quarters, too. Just get whatever you need," and get out, you want to add, but you hold your tongue.

He hesitates, then turns without looking at you, walking back to his bunk. He doesn't say a word as you watch him retrieve his bag of personal supplies.

His silence drags on, and you want to get your tunic, but he's standing between you and your bed where it sits. So instead, you watch him dig and pretend not to be feeling as exposed as you are.

"Did you get those files on Cadinth I sent you?" you ask, trying to pass the time.

"I did," he replies, sorting through the bag and not looking up.

"Did you review them?"

He doesn't answer.

"Did you even glance at them?"

"I've said I have the files."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I will get to them."

"When?"

He drops the top of his bag, resting it on the bunk, and looks over at you, keeping his eyes leveled at your face. "I've told you I will read them. Why must you doubt everything I say?"

"Because you're doubting me first," you retort, childishly. "I told you everything I sent was relevant, so why put off reading it?"

"I have a process."

"And everything needs to go according to your plans."

"I could say the same of you."

You feel your cheeks heating, frustration simmering up to a boiling point. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He turns toward you, his task forgotten. "You seem to imply I have a problem with control. Perhaps you should look inward."

"Unbelievable. You're going to turn this on me?"

"I'm simply pointing out-"

"No, you're choosing not to listen. And as usual, you're manipulating things in your favor."

"In my favor?" He takes a few steps toward you as he talks. "Nothing about this situation has been in my favor. On that, you can be assured."

"Which part, exactly, has been so trying for you? Unilaterally planning the mission based on your personal preference? Or just dealing with me? Is that it?"

"Stop trying my patience. You are looking for an argument, and I won't be drawn into it."

Your eyes widen. Then you sneer. "I am so tired of you trying to put me in my place."

He barks an insulted laugh. "I've done no such thing."

"Really?" you ask. "Then tell me, what do you call what you've been doing? I have all the same training and experience as you, and yet I'm not worthy of taking part in your mission? I'm a liability?"

"No," he scowls, tossing a look at the wall like he's trying to gather himself.

"Then what? What am I?"

"A distraction," he spits, instantly, as if it's been on the edge of spilling out of him for quite some time.

Your jaw goes rigid, your head suddenly filled with static. That's the way he views you?

His eyes soften for a moment, and he opens his mouth as if he's about to take it back, but that would only be more insulting - pretending he didn't mean it. You don't want to give him the chance.

"You've always been arrogant, but this is a whole new level."

His scowl deepens. "That is not what I meant. I'm not... not capable of-"

"Of thinking from anyone's point of view but your own?" You huff derisively. "I don't see how any explanation you give would make this less insulting. I'm a Jedi Knight, same as you, Obi Wan, and I deserve the same-"

"Yes, you are!" he bursts out, nearly making you take a step back as he closes the distance between your bodies. "Have you considered behaving like one?"

Your brow pinches, but you're too distracted by him pressing in close to respond properly. "I... what- what are you..."

"You have shown no compassion; no consideration." You see the frustration in his eyes as he closes in. "And I am at your mercy, unfortunately for us both."

"I don't understand what that means," you murmur, still overcome with irritation, but put off-balance now, by the way he's talking.

He glares at you. "Don't- don't play the fool." His gaze slides down to where your clavicle rises and falls, the tops of your breasts spilling over your tight underclothes. He quickly flicks his eyes back up to your face. "It doesn't suit you."

That one look is enough to make you squeeze your thighs together, but it isn't enough to cool your temper. "You're the fool, if you think you can guilt me into following your orders by quoting principles at me."

It shouldn't thrill you so much to watch the corner of his mouth curl in displeasure, but it does.

"You're impossible."

"Oh? The perfect Jedi finally admits he lacks compassion, but only when it comes to me."

"It's not compassion I lack," he grits out.

"Then what is it, Obi Wan?" you ask, practically talking against his mouth.

His lashes flutter as he drops them once, then twice, to your parted lips. But the signals lighting up in your brain have to be wrong, because he can't be thinking of kissing you.

You try, desperately, to get things back on track. But when you speak, your voice comes out as a whisper. "What is it you lack?"

Silence. Silence. Silence. And then - his mouth on yours.

He kisses you deeply, and suddenly all of the fury you'd built up inside is translated into the pent up, raw hunger that it truly is. His hand is holding your jaw, pulling you close, keeping you steady for him to devour. You whimper softly, and he answers the question at last:

"Control."

You exhale, whining against his tongue as he walks you backward, gripping your waist and pressing you down into the lowest bunk. Your hands fly up into his hair, clutching wildly at soft, golden fistfuls, and letting your fingers run down his scalp as he lowers his mouth to your neck. Heat pulses between your legs as he drags his wet mouth over your sensitive skin.

"Fuck," you moan, "This is- we can't... We're not supposed to..."

He groans into your neck, and the sound makes everything in you pull up tight and hot. He closes his mouth over yours again, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You pull him in deeper, your teeth clashing with his as the kiss devolves into something messier, more primal, more urgent.

You roll your hips, needing to feel more of him, and his body eagerly responds. He's stiff in his pants, and feeling him drag against you is making you lose your mind. Your hand instinctively moves to touch him, but he grips your wrist with iron-clad certainty.

"Stop," he says, even as he continues kissing you. "I can't- can't take it."

He presses your hand into the bed until you go limp, and then releases. You bring it up to his face, rubbing your palm along his bearded jaw. "I'll take care of you," you plead into his mouth. "Just let me."

His breath is getting ragged, and when he pulls back, his lips are swollen, bright with color from being sucked and bitten. He shakes his head, brow pinched tight. "I wish that I could, darling, but stars above, just look at you."

Your panting breath cuts off, caught in your throat. You try, but your mind isn't functioning enough to say anything in response.

"If I do not stop now, I won't stop at all." He leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips softly against yours. Then he whispers, floating warm words against your ear, "You'll have me begging to finish inside of you."

Your eyes squeeze shut as you wonder if it's possible to come just from his voice. He nips just below your jaw, then sucks slowly down your neck as you do your best not to writhe out of your clothes.

"And we can't have that, can we?" he rumbles at the side of your throat.

It takes every last drop of your willpower to shake your head, but you do it.

"N-no."

No. You agree. Of course not.

But... fucking why, again?

--

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