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pesterloglog · 1 year ago

Text

Tavros Nitram, John Egbert, Vriska Serket

Act 6, page 5382-5397

TAVROS: i SAW IT FIRST,

JOHN: huh?

TAVROS: gIVE IT TO ME,

JOHN: what... the ring?

TAVROS: yES, iT'S MINE,

JOHN: who are you?

TAVROS: i'M, yOUR WORST BAD DREAM, iF YOU DON'T RETURN MY TREASURE,

TAVROS: i FOUND IT, sNUGGLED IN THE SAND, bEING PRETTY AND GOLD AND BY ITSELF, aND i WANT IT BACK,

JOHN: so you found it here, like exactly where i just found it... but then instead of picking it up, you fell asleep?

TAVROS: wHEN YOU PUT IT THAT WAY, i SOUND STUPID,

TAVROS: bUT, yES,

JOHN: sorry buddy. as the age old saying goes, you snooze, you lose.

TAVROS: i NEVER HEARD THAT AGE OLD SAYING, iN MY CULTURE, sO, fUCK YOUR LINGUAL HERITAGE, aND GIVE ME THE RING,

JOHN: why were you even asleep?

TAVROS: i WAS TIRED,

TAVROS: dUH,

JOHN: this is such a dumb place to fall asleep, dude.

TAVROS: tREASURE HUNTING IS HARD,

TAVROS: sHE HAS ME WORKING LIKE A BARKFIEND,

JOHN: who?

TAVROS: mY MATESPRIT,

TAVROS: tHAT MEANS GIRLFRIEND, yOU IGNORAMUS,

JOHN: i know what it means!

JOHN: no offense, but you seem like kind of a lame troll. i don't think we ever talked before, did we?

TAVROS: wHO CARES, gIVE ME MY TREASURE,

JOHN: no way! it's mine bro.

TAVROS: sHIT!

TAVROS: oKAY,

TAVROS: mAYBE WE CAN WORK OUT SOME KIND OF DEAL,

JOHN: i dunno. this ring is pretty sweet. the price would have to be pretty steep.

TAVROS: wOW,

TAVROS: yOU ARE REALLY PUTTING ME, iN AN UNCOMFORTABLE AND CHALLENGING SITUATION,

JOHN: why do you want this desert ring so bad. is it magic?

JOHN: i don't really feel magic wearing it...

JOHN: i mean, not any more than usual.

TAVROS: i DON'T KNOW, iF IT'S MAGIC,

TAVROS: tHAT'S NOT WHY i WANT IT,

JOHN: well, i'm not giving it to you unless you have a really good reason.

TAVROS: iT'S FOR PRIVATE SENTIMENTAL PURPOSES,

TAVROS: i DON'T WANT TO SAY,

JOHN: that's cool. guess i will just enjoy this ring forever, as my property.

TAVROS: oKAAAAAY,

TAVROS: i'LL TELL YOU,

TAVROS: yOU'RE AN AWFUL HUMAN, bY THE WAY,

JOHN: yeah right, dude. would an awful guy be wearing such a sweet, priceless ring? i don't think so!

TAVROS: oH MY GOD, tHAT'S SUCH BAD LOGIC, tHAT YOU'RE KNOWINGLY USING TO BE A WORSE ENEMY,

JOHN: yeah...

JOHN: you sure did explain that, i guess.

TAVROS: i WANT THE RING BECAUSE,

TAVROS: tHIS REQUIRES SOME LABORIOUS EXPLANATION,

TAVROS: iT PERTAINS TO HUMAN CUSTOMS, WHICH i HAVE TAKEN TIME TO STUDY AS AN ETERNAL GHOST,

TAVROS: tHE TREASURE IS NEEDED, TO COMPLETE A SORT OF RITUALIZED PACT,

TAVROS: hAVING TO DO WITH HUMAN MATING,

TAVROS: tO CEMENT IN STONE THE ROMANTIC MATRIMONIES,

JOHN: oh!

JOHN: you want to use it to propose to your girlfriend?

TAVROS: yEAH,

TAVROS: wHATEVER,

JOHN: heh... that is not really what i was expecting to hear.

JOHN: i thought you were just being a greedy treasure grubbing douche.

TAVROS: yOU MEAN,

TAVROS: lIKE YOU???

JOHN: yes.

JOHN: but that's a pretty good reason.

JOHN: i guess i can let you have it, if it is going to result in a happy marriage.

TAVROS: oKAY, tHEN HURRY, aND GIVE IT TO ME,

JOHN: who is the lucky lady, anyway?

TAVROS: oH NO, hURRY uP, tHERE'S NO TIME,

TAVROS: sHE'S COMING!

JOHN: who??

TAVROS: gIVE IT TO ME,

TAVROS: sHE CAN'T SEE IT YET, iT HAS TO BE A SURPRISE!

TAVROS: aLSO, i DON'T WANT HER TO KNOW i GOT IT, fROM A LOSER LIKE YOU,

JOHN: hey!

TAVROS: oH MY GOD,

VRISKA: TAAAAAAAAVR........ Oh!

VRISKA: Hi John.

VRISKA: Tavros, I didn't know you were hanging out with John. You should have come told me.

TAVROS: bUT, i JUST WOKE UP FROM THE SAND PILE, aND FOUND HIM HERE,

TAVROS: i HAD LITERALLY NO TIME TO GO TELL YOU, bECAUSE OF AN ARGUMENT,

VRISKA: What? What were you arguing a8out?

TAVROS: uHHH,

VRISKA: W8........ what do you mean woke up? Why were you asleep?

TAVROS: uHHH,

VRISKA: Dammit, Tavros. You can't 8e slacking off like that.

VRISKA: I told you, we aren't fucking around anymore. This is serious 8usiness.

JOHN: hey...

JOHN: excuse me, but

JOHN: are you...

JOHN: vriska?

VRISKA: Yeah!

VRISKA: Oh, sorry. I really should have introduced myself. I guess I forgot I technically never met this version of you.

JOHN: uh. that's alright. nice to meet you.

JOHN: wait...

JOHN: are you a ghost too?

VRISKA: Yep.

JOHN: so... you're dead?

VRISKA: Yes, John. That's what 8eing a ghost means.

JOHN: ok, i'm still confused though...

JOHN: sorry if i sound dumb, but dream bubbles are still kind of baffling to me.

JOHN: you're, uh... "REALLY" dead?

JOHN: as in, the real you? i mean... dang, what the hell am i even trying to ask here...

VRISKA: No, I get what you're asking.

VRISKA: Yes, the real me. The actual, legit, fully authentic alpha timeline Vriska. Dead. Gone. Fuckin' toast.

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: so when i meet up with everyone on your troll meteor in a year, that means...

JOHN: you'll be...

VRISKA: A corpse!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: That's assuming my 8ody was sufficiently preserved during the trip.

VRISKA: Which, now that I think a8out it, I guess it was? It must have 8een, 8ecause otherwise that unspeaka8le prototyping atrocity couldn't have happened.

VRISKA: That piece of shit clown. I still have no idea what the deal with that was! He's completely lost his mind. Anyway, that's neither here nor there.

VRISKA: Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already heard I was dead, one way or another. It's kind of old news?

VRISKA: Then again, these things are all relative. So who knows.

JOHN: ...

VRISKA: Are you ok? You seem sad.

JOHN: well,

JOHN: yeah.

JOHN: it's always sad to hear a friend died. even if you find out about it from their ghost.

VRISKA: I guess so.

JOHN: also, i had kind of thought that when we all arrived at the new session, that...

JOHN: we were going to like... hang out. or something.

VRISKA: Oh yeah! That's right. We were.

VRISKA: 8ut then I got sta88ed through the 8ack. Which to 8e fair, was for the good of the party, so the meteor could make the trip in the first place, and keep this whole crazy sequence of events intact.

VRISKA: Not gonna lie. I made some mistakes.

JOHN: wow. what even happened out there?

VRISKA: Just some pointless, deadly teen drama. Mostly 8rought on 8y ourselves, all acting like juvenile idiots. Like I said, old news.

VRISKA: VERY old for me. I've 8een here a pretty long time now.

VRISKA: A lot has happened since I died. John, did you know the little rendezvous we planned sort of already happened? I mean, in a way.

JOHN: what? it did?

VRISKA: Yes. With your ghost.

JOHN: huh??

VRISKA: I mean, the ghost of one of your altern8te selves, who died along the way doing some stupid thing.

VRISKA: Actually, he and I d8ted for a little while.

TAVROS: wHOA, hOLD ON,

TAVROS: wHAT'S THIS, aBOUT DATING WHO?

VRISKA: Groan. Here we go.

TAVROS: wHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME, aBOUT THAT,

VRISKA: Tavros, I have led a rich and complic8ted life and death. I can hardly 8e expected to tell you a8out every little thing that I've 8een through.

VRISKA: 8esides, you should have already known this a8out me.

TAVROS: wHY,

VRISKA: 8ecause we shared a sprite 8ody once!!!!!!!! We 8riefly had access to all each others memories and feelings.

VRISKA: So if you didn't take the chance to dig that out of my memory, you only have yourself to 8lame.

TAVROS: nO, bUT, tHAT HARDLY LASTED ANY TIME AT ALL,

TAVROS: aND THERE WERE A LOT, oF OVERWHELMING EXPERIENCES ALL HAPPENING AT ONCE,

TAVROS: hOW COULD i TRY TO REMEMBER ALL YOUR MEMORIES BEFORE WE EXPLODED,

VRISKA: Well, all I can say is, I managed! I took the opportunity to remem8er pretty much all YOUR memories.

VRISKA: I was in and out like a 8andit, and now all your life experiences are mine.

TAVROS: tHAT'S NOT FAIR,

TAVROS: bECAUSE, yOU'RE SMARTER THAN ME, aND MORE CUNNING,

VRISKA: Them's the 8r8ks!!!!!!!!

JOHN: wait, i'm with tavros here, i think we should back this up a bit.

JOHN: so, my alternate reality ghost dated you?

VRISKA: Yes.

JOHN: that...

JOHN: but...

VRISKA: What?

JOHN: vriska, this is a very bizarre and unsettling fact to me!

VRISKA: Why?

JOHN: because...

JOHN: man, i don't know, it just is!

JOHN: you say we dated for a while, but like, i don't even get to remember doing that?

JOHN: i think that's mostly what's weird about it.

VRISKA: Hey, we apparently don't get to remem8er the results of a lot of choices we didn't actually make!

VRISKA: Again, see: the 8r8ks.

JOHN: well...

JOHN: can you at least tell me what happened there? like, how did that go?

VRISKA: It was fine. For a while.

VRISKA: It didn't really work out.

JOHN: oh.

VRISKA: We crossed paths every now and then after that.

VRISKA: Things stayed pretty friendly 8etween us.

VRISKA: Until he died.

JOHN: what??

JOHN: what do you mean he died?

VRISKA: He was murdered.

JOHN: you mean... his GHOST died?

VRISKA: Yes.

JOHN: as in, he just doesn't exist at all anymore? like DEAD dead?

VRISKA: Yes! Dead dead. For good.

JOHN: i don't... how does that even...

JOHN: who killed him???

JOHN: was it jack?

VRISKA: Jack? Are you kidding? No, John.

VRISKA: Jack is 8arely in the picture as a threat anymore. He's just more old news.

JOHN: he is not old news though!

JOHN: he's still as strong and menacing as ever.

JOHN: i just had an awesome battle with him in this very dream bubble!

VRISKA: You did?

JOHN: yeah. i found him skulking around a memory of my dead dad, and i got pissed off, so i really let him have it.

JOHN: oh, i even used the cool hammer you helped me make. remember that?

VRISKA: Oh yeah!

VRISKA: Those were good times, when I helped you 8e gr8. ::::)

JOHN: yes.

JOHN: the last time i faced him was kind of embarrassing. i let him get the drop on me, and he just stabbed me right away.

JOHN: but this time i think i held my own pretty well. i even got in one good hit against him!

JOHN: i gave him a solid bop on the head, and the dice roll made him wear a silly hat.

VRISKA: That's awesome!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: One time in an altern8te reality, I came pretty close to killing him apparently.

JOHN: oh really?

VRISKA: You 8et. Too 8ad that was in a timeline that didn't really count. 8ut it's always reassuring to know you can put up a good fight against a strong adversary if you ever needed to. Now I guess you know you can too.

JOHN: i guess so!

VRISKA: What happened after you 8onked him on the head? I 8et he was mad.

JOHN: yeah, he sure was. but our fight was interrupted by like... another taller, white jack dressed in rags.

VRISKA: A white Jack?

JOHN: well, no, it wasn't actually a jack, it was someone different altogether, who just looked like him. with wings and a sword and everything.

JOHN: i think the white jack was probably a girl? i'm not sure, but that was my hunch. i didn't talk to her or anything. she looked really angry.

JOHN: anyway, he seemed scared of her, so he flew away, and she chased him.

JOHN: do you know who she was?

VRISKA: No fucking clue.

JOHN: whatever jack's doing out here in dream bubble land, he seems to have his hands full with her on his tail.

JOHN: but as you can see, he is FAR from out of the picture.

VRISKA: Ok, that may 8e, 8ut it sure wasn't Jack who killed a whole shitload of ghosts out here, including one of yours.

VRISKA: I really dou8t Jack can even kill ghosts. In fact, I don't think anyone can except for this guy.

JOHN: what guy?

VRISKA: Lord English.

JOHN: who??

VRISKA: Wow, John. Really?

VRISKA: Wow.

VRISKA: Time to get a clue!

VRISKA: Hasn't it ever occurred to you to wonder who the ultim8 8ad guy of this adventure was going to 8e?

JOHN: ultimate bad guy?

JOHN: you mean like the last boss?

VRISKA: Man, even that way of putting it is a little too pedestrian.

VRISKA: I mean, I already 8eat a last 8oss! The 8lack king was the officially sanctioned last 8oss of our session, and I killed him. This is different.

VRISKA: There's always someone stronger w8ing to 8e revealed. Jack showed up shortly after that, and he was MUCH stronger.

VRISKA: Eventually the curtains get pulled 8ack, and you find out who was 8ehind every terri8le thing that happened all along. Someone who is invaria8ly stronger than all other adversaries 8y a wide margin. The supreme villain!

VRISKA: To 8e honest, I was always kind of w8ing for that guy to show up, whoever he was. For the other shoe to drop, you know? There's always a 8ig 8ad 8ehind everything. A true gamer sees stuff like this coming a mile away.

JOHN: ok. if you say so.

JOHN: i always kind of thought jack was evil and strong enough to be our main antagonist. but if you say there is someone even stronger and more evil, then... wow.

VRISKA: Yes, I'll admit, I was fooled 8y Jack 8riefly.

VRISKA: For a little while, I thought he was the supreme menace, and I would have to face him in a final showdown.

VRISKA: 8ut it turned out that was just a 8it of standard misdirection. He was just another step up in a typical pattern of escal8tion involving increasingly "insurmounta8le" threats, which legendary heroes like us have to overcome to achieve total victory over everything.

VRISKA: Also, let's face it. I don't think Jack is all that evil, so much as he's just a murderous asshole. Trust me, I know the type.

VRISKA: 8ut English, that guy is as evil as they come. He's the real deal!!!!!!!!

TAVROS: oKAY, cAN i JUST SAY SOMETHING,

TAVROS: i STILL DON'T KNOW WHY YOU'RE SO SURE, hE'S THE FINAL VILLAIN,

TAVROS: bECAUSE, yOU YOURSELF SAID, tHERE'S ALWAYS SOMEONE STRONGER, rIGHT,

TAVROS: sO, i'M PERCEIVING A CONTRADICTION ABOUT YOUR FACTS,

VRISKA: Tavros, come on. We've already talked a8out this ad nauseum.

VRISKA: He's the 8ig 8ad!!!!!!!! It's so o8vious. I mean, MAY8E there's someone stronger out there in paradox space? Who knows.

VRISKA: 8ut whoever that is has nothing to fucking do with this massive extended multiverse-spanning campaign!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: English was the guy who stacked the whole deck against us from the start, rigging shit to go haywire, wiping out our race, 8lowing up universes, exterimin8ting ghosts, slaughtering dark gods, and shattering reality itself. Pretty sure we reached the top floor, 8uddy!

TAVROS: oKAY, bUT ALL i'M SAYING IS, wHAT IF,

TAVROS: tHERE'S SOMEONE EVEN WORSE THAN THAT, dUE TO SPECULATION,

VRISKA: Un8elieva8le.

VRISKA: John, just ignore him. He tends to 8e contrary just for the sake of 8eing contrary. It's just what he does these days.

VRISKA: He seems to think it's how you show confidence and assertiveness. The key to high self esteem is apparently just saying "nuh uh!" all the time.

TAVROS: nO, tHAT'S NOT TRUE,

VRISKA: See?

VRISKA: This was apparently the 8ig lesson he learned from sharing a 8rain with me for a few minutes. In order to feel good a8out yourself, just 8e a constant pain in the ass!!!!!!!!

TAVROS: nO, tHAT'S NOT WHAT i LEARNED,

JOHN: haha.

JOHN: i see what you mean.

TAVROS: nO,

TAVROS: nO, oKAY, i REALIZE ALL i'M SAYING IS NO, WHICH IS JUST HELPING MAKE YOU LOOK AS RIGHT AS POSSIBLE ABOUT MAKING FUN OF ME,

TAVROS: bUT i LEARNED IN YOUR BRAIN THAT YOU AREN'T ALWAYS RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING,

TAVROS: yOU WERE WRONG ABOUT LOTS OF THINGS,

TAVROS: yOU WERE WRONG ABOUT RUFIO!

TAVROS: rUFIO WAS REAL ALL ALONG, }:D

VRISKA: Alright, granted, there did in fact exist a person 8y that name.

VRISKA: You aren't spelling it right, though.

TAVROS: hOW DO YOU KNOW HOW i'M SPELLING IT, wHEN i'M JUST TALKING, iNSTEAD OF USING LETTERS,

VRISKA: 8ecause that's how you spelled it when we used to chat online, dum8ass!!!!!!!! You weren't using enough letters.

TAVROS: sO,

VRISKA: And in any case, he doesn't actually represent your self esteem. He's just some dude.

TAVROS: bUT, hE MAKES ME FEEL BETTER ABOUT MYSELF wHEN i THINK OF HIM, sO THE REALITY IS EFFECTIVELY EQUIVALENT TO MY FRAUDULENT CHILDHOOD SUPERSTITION,

VRISKA: Lol. Whatever floats your 8oat.

JOHN: you both seem a bit testy with each other. it's kind of funny.

JOHN: actually it's a little hard to believe you and he are...

VRISKA: What?

JOHN: er...

JOHN: never mind, actually.

VRISKA: ???????!

JOHN: i take it you were pretty good friends back on your planet?

VRISKA: You could say that.

VRISKA: There's a pretty loaded history 8etween us. It's pro8a8ly 8est not to get into it.

VRISKA: None of that matters anymore anyway, it was so long ago. You know how it is.

JOHN: um. sure?

VRISKA: Issues 8etween people seem like such a 8ig deal when they're happening. 8ut then you die, and time just goes on, and on........ then on some more.

VRISKA: If enough time passes, shit that used to 8e a 8ig deal kind of stops mattering.

VRISKA: Ok, full disclosure. I used to do a lot of terri8le things to Tavros.

VRISKA: Once I launched him off a cliff and paralyzed him. And if that wasn't 8ad enough, I spent sweeps mocking him for the disa8ility I caused! Haha.

VRISKA: Oh yeah. Then I killed him.

JOHN: oh, right. i remember you said you killed someone that you cared about. i guess this is him?

VRISKA: Mm hm.

VRISKA: 8ut like I said, that's suuuuuuuuch old news now, it might as well not have even happened.

VRISKA: Tavros doesn't give a shit a8out that stuff anymore.

TAVROS: hEY, wAIT, mAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T, SPEAK FOR ME?

TAVROS: i STILL KIND OF THINK THAT STUFF WAS ALL PRETTY MEAN, eVEN THOUGH IT WAS FOREVER AGO,

TAVROS: iT'S JUST, i HAVE CHOSEN TO BE THE BIGGER MAN, aND NOT HOLD IT AGAINST LIKING YOU,

VRISKA: Hahahaha! John, can you 8elieve this guy?

VRISKA: This is the kind of shit I have to deal with all the time.

TAVROS: oH GOD,

TAVROS: nO, tIME OUT, i'M FLAGGING THIS, vRISKA, aS TERRIBLE BEHAVIOR,

VRISKA: Tavros, the 8igger man is only ACTUALLY the 8igger man if he doesn't refer to himself as the 8igger man. That's kind of the point?

VRISKA: Unless the intent is to produce some form of socially awkward comic relief, which let's face it, is what you're all a8out.

VRISKA: 8ut that's what I like a8out you.

TAVROS: yES, }:)

JOHN: hmm, i feel like... maybe we got sidetracked there?

JOHN: maybe you should tell me more about this english guy.

JOHN: frankly, it seems like i'm usually one of the last people to learn about stuff like this, and it's starting to make me feel like a bit of a tool.

VRISKA: He's just some huge overpowered green freak. A time traveling monster, supposedly invinci8le.

VRISKA: Who he is, what he is, where he came from, none of that really matters.

VRISKA: What matters is how we're going to defeat him.

VRISKA: That's what Tavros and I have 8een working on here for some time now.

JOHN: working on what?

VRISKA: Treasure hunting!

JOHN: oh yeah?

JOHN: what treasure?

VRISKA: Yes. Ok, I should explain.

VRISKA: There's sort of a plan in motion to 8eat English. It's a three pronged approach.

VRISKA: A num8er of people out here in the furthest ring are working on different prongs of the strategy independently.

VRISKA: The first is a quest to find the lost ghost of some alien girl. She's said to 8e one of the keys to defeating him in some way.

VRISKA: Other people are allegedly out there working on that right now. If you ask me, it sounds like a really 8oring approach to defeating him. Who knows if it's even true.

TAVROS: (gIVe it tO me,)

JOHN: (stop that!)

JOHN: (keep your hands to yourself.)

VRISKA: The second is a quest to raise an army of ghosts to challenge him directly in some kind of huge 8attle royale, I guess.

VRISKA: From what I understand, some yahoo out there is 8usy rounding people up. I really have no idea how that's going. I usually just hear stuff through the grapevine.

VRISKA: That approach doesn't really interest me either. Gonna file it under "8oring" as well. Seems a little heavy handed, not to mention too slow.

TAVROS: (gIve Me thE riNG,)

JOHN: (no!)

TAVROS: (yes, yOu ASs,)

JOHN: (dude, you suck at whispering!)

TAVROS: (you sAiD you'D GIve it to me,)

JOHN: (i changed my mind!)

VRISKA: The third prong is what Tavros and I are 8usy with. The aforementioned treasure hunt.

VRISKA: The legend says there's some mystical ancient treasure hidden somewhere out here in the furthest ring.

VRISKA: I'm assuming it's some kind of weapon. It's said that if you use it, or like, activ8te it in some way, he can 8e defeated forever.

VRISKA: The nature of the treasure is pretty vague, actually. 8ut the first rule of treasure hunting, which I'm admittedly just making up now, is that it doesn't fucking matter what the treasure is.

TAVROS: (wE had a deAl,)

JOHN: (quit it!)

TAVROS: (why Are you sUcH a liar,)

JOHN: (shut up. i'm keeping it.)

TAVROS: (thiS is noT cOOl,)

TAVROS: (you're PrevenTing joYful human sTYled matrimonY frOM happEning,)

JOHN: (yeah right. like she would even say yes.)

JOHN: (i don't even think she's really your girlfriend. i think you made that up!)

TAVROS: (wow, no, wOw,)

TAVROS: (you wEnt thERE,)

VRISKA: These three goals are all tied to the same legend which I've uncovered clues a8out over time. Legendary shit is everywhere out here. I'm seriously up to my ass in legend. Hell, I probably even qualify as a legend myself!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: When it comes to solving a 8ig mystery like this, it doesn't hurt that everywhere we go, places are composed of the collective memories of many different adventurers.

VRISKA: We've explored ancient crypts, networks of 8urial mounds, dusty old tom8s, giant pyramids, you name it. Hints a8out the endgame are hidden all over the place.

VRISKA: Really, everyone's pretty lucky I died so I could do all the dirty work on this. Let's get real, no8ody's 8etter prepared to take on the treasure hunting duties than I am.

TAVROS: (unhAnd the treasurE,)

TAVROS: (it's prEcious to Me, jUst liKe, My beautiful GIRLFRIEND,)

JOHN: (you are so full of shit!)

TAVROS: (we're in LOVE toGetHEr, aSSHole,)

JOHN: (there's no way you're getting this ring.)

TAVROS: (fUCk, YoU,)

VRISKA: Not that I'd have it any other way. This just sounds like the 8est plan to me. Why 8other messing around with an army of ghostly dipshits, or some shy magic alien when you can go str8 for the ultim8 weapon?

VRISKA: Hell, may8e I'll just walk right up to him, one-shot the guy and end it all right there.

VRISKA: That's how a real pro goes a8out 8usiness. You take any shortcut you find.

JOHN: (i am going to wish as super hard as i can that i wake up with this ring.)

JOHN: (it's probably magic, so i bet it makes my wish come true!)

TAVROS: (i doubT that From happeNing,)

JOHN: (if i wish hard enough, that will make it slightly less impossible!)

TAVROS: (oh, you bastARD, you arE gOOd,)

JOHN: (i think some day i will use it to propose to *MY* girlfriend. what do you think about THAT, wise guy?)

TAVROS: (noOO!!!)

TAVROS: (gIMme,)

JOHN: (this is pathetic.)

JOHN: (stop grabbing at me! we're missing what she's saying!)

JOHN: (she's going to think we're idiots, won't you STOP?)

VRISKA: Are you fuckers even listening to me???????? God DAMN it.

JOHN: yes!

VRISKA: No you're not. You're squa88ling with Tavros and his loud shitty whispering a8out some 8ullshit.

VRISKA: Come on, guys. Am I really 8eing that 8oring?

VRISKA: I'm really starting to understand how my ancestor must have felt sometimes. No8ody ever respects an important explan8tion!!!!!!!!

TAVROS: (i've alReadY heARd yoUR explANAtions, tHough,)

VRISKA: Why are you still whispering jackass?!

TAVROS: oHH,

TAVROS: sORRY,

VRISKA: Sigh.

VRISKA: 8oth of you just keep your damn hands to yourselves, shut up, and let me finish my story.

VRISKA: Tavros! 8ring me the treasure maps!!!!!!!!

TAVROS: yES,

TAVROS: rIGHT AWAY,

VRISKA: Yes, that's it. Dump them all over the floor a8out ten feet away from me, just like that.

VRISKA: The sloppier the pile and the further away from me the 8etter. Gr8 jo8, Tavros.

TAVROS: tHANK YOU,

VRISKA: John, come take a look at this.

JOHN: those are all treasure maps?

VRISKA: Sort of! Pro8a8ly not like any maps you've seen.

VRISKA: Check it out. This ought to help you understand how frustr8ting this treasure hunt really is.

VRISKA: John, tell me what you see here.

JOHN: um...

JOHN: where?

VRISKA: Right here.

VRISKA: What is this? This thing I'm holding?

JOHN: a black piece of paper?

VRISKA: No, John.

VRISKA: This is 8ULLSHIT is what it is.

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: yes, clearly.

VRISKA: This is what a map looks like in the furthest ring.

VRISKA: This is what ALL maps look like out here.

VRISKA: Turns out plotting the relative geographical features of an infinite 8lack expanse of pure void is every 8it as moronic as it sounds. 8ut that didn't stop some ancient eldritch chucklefuck from doing exactly that.

VRISKA: For the longest time, this is all we've had to go on when it came to deciphering the clues and figuring out the coordin8tes of the legendary treasure.

VRISKA: Do you have any idea how hard it is to pin down the physical location of something out here? Never mind the fact that physical location in the furthest ring is already a mallea8le concept. Just imagine what it's like giving someone directions! What do you tell them?

VRISKA: Proceed in a str8 line shaped like a perpetually shifting torus knot until you feel a sense of despair transcending all mortal comprehension, then hang a right at the next octopus?

VRISKA: There's nothing static out there. No landmarks, no points of reference. Nothing!

VRISKA: If you want to make any headway in this gr8 8ig field of fuckall, SOMEONE has got to start wrecking some shit.

JOHN: would that someone be you?

VRISKA: Haha. I wish I had that kind of firepower. 8ut no.

VRISKA: You wouldn't 8elieve my luck.

VRISKA: You see, recently someone's 8een doing that dirty work for us.

VRISKA: Want to know what the kicker is?

VRISKA: The guy who's 8een fucking shit up is the 8ig 8ad himself!

VRISKA: Every time he destroys another dream 8u88le, he does a little more damage to the furthest ring, inexplica8ly shattering the essence of all-encompassing nothingness.

VRISKA: As the cracks spread across the void, new points of reference show up on our maps!

VRISKA: Then we look at the angles and intersections and all the shapes formed 8y the cracks, and compare them to our notes from the various riddles and clues we've discovered a8out the path to the treasure.

VRISKA: It's actually a little like how in old times on Alternia, pir8s used to navig8 8y shapes the stars made. Constell8tions used to have a lot of significance in our culture, not just guiding explorers on their journeys to physical destin8tions, 8ut guiding them on the choices they made in life, pertaining to f8 and all that. Not that humans would really understand anything like that.

VRISKA: I actually find the situ8tion to 8e pretty funny. This guy's ego must 8e astronomical. Classic case of unchecked hu8ris paving the way for his own downfall.

VRISKA: I didn't even need to 8uild a we8 to trap him. He just went ahead and started 8uilding his own.

VRISKA: Talk a8out a lucky 8r8k!!!!!!!!

JOHN: that is pretty neat.

JOHN: so does that mean you know where the treasure is now?

VRISKA: No, 8ecause the map isn't complete yet!

VRISKA: Needs more cracks so we can plot the rest of the course. All we're a8le to do now is head in the right general direction.

VRISKA: So ironically in order to prevent reality from 8eing destroyed, we need to w8 for it to 8e damaged further. In fact, we're 8etter off encouraging it!

JOHN: encouraging it?

JOHN: what, you mean like, making him mad so he breaks more... uh...

JOHN: nothingness?

VRISKA: Yes, 8ut it has to 8e strategic. We have to somehow lead him in the direction of the places we want him to damage.

VRISKA: Specifically, the places where the route dead-ends. Wherever we need new points of reference to keep going.

JOHN: so that means you have to piss him off i guess.

VRISKA: Not really. He's already pissed off. I think he's just permanently that way?

VRISKA: It's more a8out getting his attention. Using the right 88! Like going fishing.

VRISKA: 8ut to do that, you gotta know what he really wants. Like what motiv8tes him. I mean, 8esides indiscrimin8tely killing dead children and huge tentacle monsters.

JOHN: i am guessing you have an idea what that might be?

VRISKA: Sure. The rumor is he's trying to find that dead alien girl I mentioned, and kill her ghost for good.

VRISKA: If he catches on to the fact that some of us are looking for her too, and thinks we're hot on her trail, he'll pro8a8ly start following us around and wreaking havoc wherever we go.

VRISKA: We just have to make sure we're in the right place when he tries to kill us. Oh, also try not to actually die again while we're at it. Haha.

JOHN: so the bait is really you.

VRISKA: Sort of! It's actually more the 8ogus idea that we'll lead him to the cheru8, 8ecause we're looking for her too. Which we're o8viously not.

VRISKA: There's some manipul8tion involved.

JOHN: ok. how do you know he'll go for it? i mean, how will he actually know you're "looking" for her?

VRISKA: That's a pretty good question. Have to admit, I don't have everything quite figured out yet.

TAVROS: yEEAAAAAAAAAAH,

VRISKA: Shhhhhhh! I'm still talking!

TAVROS: bUT, tHAT'S NEVER NOT BEING THE CASE, aLWAYS,

VRISKA: Nice sentence, genius! Anyway, like I was saying........

VRISKA: I'm hoping my exploits can spread throughout the ring 8y word of mouth. Tales of my legend, you know?

VRISKA: Then once he catches on, he'll come looking for us, and then presuma8ly go apeshit with his rain8ow laser 8reath. Metaphysical cataclysm ensues.

JOHN: that sounds... optimistic?

TAVROS: yEAH, eXACTLY,

TAVROS: sEE, tHIS TO ME, mAYBE SPEAKS TO THE DANGER,

TAVROS: oF HAVING SELF ESTEEM THAT IS UNREASONABLY HIGH,

JOHN: heh.

VRISKA: Oh, shut up.

VRISKA: I said it's a work in progress!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: We might need to make a 8igger spectacle of ourselves somehow. Get more people involved. I don't know.

VRISKA: It does seems like he's more drawn toward gr8ter concentr8tions of ghosts.

VRISKA: There's still plenty of time to figure it out. That's one thing a8out 8eing dead. There's always more time.

VRISKA: Plus, needless to say, lady luck will ALWAYS 8e on our side! ::::)

JOHN: well...

JOHN: cool!

JOHN: that was actually a very interesting story, vriska.

JOHN: you're a pretty good story teller!

VRISKA: You think so?

TAVROS: oH, yES, i THINK SO TOO,

TAVROS: sHE'S GOTTEN MUCH BETTER AT STORIES, aS A RECREATIONAL LONG TERM DEATH HOBBY,

JOHN: oh yeah?

TAVROS: sURE, wE'VE BOTH LOOKED AT LESSONS FROM OUR ANCESTORS, tO IMPROVE OUR SOULS,

TAVROS: hER ANCESTRAL AWAKENING HAS TO DO WITH UNDERSTANDING HER DESTINY, tO TELL LONG STORIES TO PEOPLE, aND MAKE THEM LISTEN TO ALL THE WORDS IRREGARDLESS OF THEIR INTEREST, bY ANY MEANS NECESSARY,

TAVROS: tHE ART OF SAYING OPTIMAL TALES BY MY UNDERSTANDING, iS TO CHARGE THROUGH ALL CONCEIVABLE DETAILS AND EXCESSIVE MINUTIA, uNTIL THEY ARE EXHAUSTED COMPLETELY, mUCH LIKE IT IS A SPIRITUAL PRACTICE, aND EXTRANEOUS INFORMATION IS TREATED LIKE THE RELIGIOUS WORDS YOU SAY OVER AND OVER AGAIN UNTIL BRAIN PEACE HAPPENS,

JOHN: that's... one way of looking at it.

JOHN: i don't know about excessive minutia or brain peace, but i was hanging on every word!

VRISKA: Aw, you guys. You're making me 8lush.

JOHN: i wish i could hang out with you longer and maybe even help you with your treasure hunt.

JOHN: but i just know i'm gonna be waking up soon.

JOHN: darn. who even knows how long it will be before we meet again in another bubble?

TAVROS: yEAH, wELL,

TAVROS: tHEM'S THE BREAKS, aHA, aHA,

TAVROS: (soOn, iT wilL be MIne,)

VRISKA: Don't mind him, John. He's just 8eing weird and tooly again.

VRISKA: It was nice to see you and catch up like this. If we don't meet in another dream soon, don't worry.

VRISKA: I have a feeling we'll 8e crossing paths again 8efore this is all over!

1 note · View note

futurewdclandonorris · 2 years ago

Text

Dinner Reservation | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: you had plans to go out, Lando had other. Watch what happens when you tell him no

Warnings: barely any plot just smut, light dom Lando, kinda bratty both Lando and the reader, and assholes too (idk what came over me, I thought I was being funny) some cringe bits for the sake of the 'plot' but we move, kinda long that's why I included word count, hint of exhibitionism, unprotected sex

Word count: 5389

A/N: Okay, I really need to learn how to write summaries, if anyone wants to be my editor you can hit me up. Perks are you get to see the original copy before I rewrite it for tumblr

Credits to @twinkodium for prompting this idea and brainstorming it with me ♥

You stepped out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around your body. Not bringing any clothes with you, you proceeded out of the bathroom to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. He was sprawled out on the bed, obviously dissatisfied about something–still in his hoodie and black sweats–but the moment you opened the door, his whole demeanor changed, his hungry eyes following you as you strolled across the room to your still unpacked suitcase. Bending down to get your underwear, you felt two arms wrap around your waist, stopping you mid motion.

You smirked, popping your behind and pressing it harder against his pelvis as you fished a pair of panties from the case. He lowly grunted, removing your hair from one shoulder to another, which gave him a clean access for planting a kiss on your neck.

"Plans canceled, why don't you get on the bed for me, gorgeous?" he murmured against your skin.

You tried to sustain your smile, finding the whole situation amusing. Getting a hold of yourself, you turned around to face him.

"We can't cancel plans just because you suddenly got horny." you playfully rolled your eyes. "They're waiting for us."

The plan was to go out and grab dinner with Oscar and Lily. Something like a double date and get together outside business hours.

"They can wait." he still had that stupid grin on his face, brushing his fingertips over the side of yours, his eyes roaming all over your features.

"No, they can't. You're acting like a spoiled child, you know that?" you teased, giving him a playful shove. "Now go get ready, we're already late as it is. They're probably wondering where we are." you urged and knowing there was no point further arguing with you, he scoffed and walked over to the dresser.

"You're acting like we don't spend three weekends a month with them," he protested, buttoning his shirt only a halfway up. "But fine. If you won't listen to me now, I'll bend you over that goddamn dinner table and fuck you in front of everyone. Maybe that will be more appealing to you-"

"Don't be ridiculous." you snorted a laugh.

"Say I won't do it." he stood tall and incredibly close in front of you, his eyes boring into yours making you feel smaller than you were. And you could swear, you didn't know if your wetness was from the shower or somethin else entirely different.

"Please, dress up, sweetheart." he finished, his voice somewhat mocking, leaving you to clutch your panties to your chest standing in the middle of the room.

This whole ordeal may or may have not resulted in you changing the outfit you had in mind from the top. Instead of an orange sundress, you slipped into a white linen bodycon dress that perfectly hugged your curves, cut out sides exposing your toned waist and highlighting your hip bones. Deep v neck brought exposure to your cleavage as well.

Studying yourself in the mirror, the material was so thin it was almost see through. Lando absolutely hated loved this dress. You completed the look with some white sandals. You were in the process of putting on your gold earrings when Lando walked in.

"Are you anywhere near do-" he choked out, eyes turning a darker shade of green as they scanned you from head to toe. He cleared his throat before speaking "You look amazing, darling." he complimented, with a little bitter taste to the pet name he just called you, obviously not approving of the attire. Jackpot.

"Thank you, darling." you grinned as you walked up to him and pecked his cheek, completely ignoring the fact he was fuming.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Lead the way." you responded, your lips still curved into a smile, and laced your hands together.

On the drive to the restaurant, his knuckles turned completely white from how strong his grip on the steering wheel was. His eyes never darted from the road, not even once. No hand holding nor even one kiss at the red light. But instead, you drove in silence, only soft music playing from the radio making any noise as you tried to hide your satisfaction, which you will probably come to regret later, looking out the window.

As expected, Oscar and Lily arrived before you. You apologized for keeping them waiting, but they said they only just got there a few minutes ago due to traffic. A waiter immediately approached you and had your orders right under way in a few moments.

During dinner, Lando wasn't completely ignoring you, but he wasn't really paying attention or engaging with you either. Which didn't come off as strange or like something was wrong between you. You girls had your girl talk and boys had their boy talk. Lily couldn't always attend a race weekend and it's been a while since you last saw her. But there was a mischievous spark in his eyes, only someone who had known him for years could notice, telling you he was planning something.

First, he'd casually drop his hand on your thigh under the table and just rest it there, and then remove it without a second thought, continuing his conversation with Oscar like nothing happened. After a while, he'd put it back on, only higher this time and gently grasp the skin, his thumb drawing circles. Your muscles tensed and made you jump in your seat. He noticed, of course, without sparing you a second glance and dragged his palm up and down your inner thigh like that was going to soothe you. He stopped and left you alone once more when your main course arrived.

While waiting for dessert, his fingers brushed the fabric of your panties without previous warning that made you gasp audibly and place your elbows on the table to support your forehead with your hands, making all cutlery clank. That finally drove some confused looks from Oscar and Lily.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked, curiosity getting the best of her cause this wasn't the first time you jumped in your seat during the conversation.

"I'm fine." you breathed, faking a smile. You turned towards Lando and hissed, covering your mouth "What are you doing?"

He leaned closer into your side, his lips brushing your earlobe as he whispered "I'm thinking about having my dessert now." his fingers still feathered over you. You gave him a wide eyed look. "Say I won't do it." he repeated his words from earlier that instantly made you blush.

"You... you're crazy." you whispered back, glancing sideways at the confused faces around you, most likely thinking you were talking about the weather. God, you hoped they were thinking you were talking about the weather.

"Say it." he insisted, his palm coming to a stop on your pussy.

You bit your lip, getting a clear image of him bending you over the table while Lily, Oscar and the waiter looked on as Lando fucked you right in front of them. It made you wet and you hated yourself for it.

"I... I'm saying it." you mumbled.

"What?" he took a sip of his drink.

"I'm saying it." you leaned closer as the people around you were now completely involved in their own conversations, acting like they didn't hear you the first time. "I'm saying you won't do it." maybe one thing Lando often forgets is how stubbornly bratty you can get.

Lando started, but was interrupted by the waiter coming to pick up your dessert orders. He only quickly added that you will settle this later. The Great Dessert Debate concluded after you were done with your meals. Lily was lobbying for ice cream, Oscar insisting on sorbet, Lando not really giving a damn as long as he wasn't going to have cake and you, of course, wanted something naughty. Oscar finally convinced Lily that sorbet would taste better than ice cream and they decided to get it to-go to bring home. You sighed and ordered cheesecake eventually.

"I changed my mind." Lando started. "I won't be having any dessert here." he smirked and glanced at you.

Idle as he was, he didn't waste an opportunity to dip his hand between your thighs once more and stroke you up and down as soon as you dipped your spoon in your cheesecake. You could've made a scene, but how you were practically purring in your seat, you decided not to.

"Don't move and finish your little treat," he murmured and brought his lips to your cheek and kissed it. "I'm sure sugar will give you enough energy for what's about to come later." you could almost choke as you swallowed.

He squeezed your thigh again under the table, giving you a once over and letting his eyes settle on your mouth. You knew what he was trying to do. He was attempting to turn you on in public while everyone else was almost done with their desserts and it worked, damn it. He didn't stop touching you until dessert was over and the bill was paid, but this time he slid his palm all the way up to your slit and stroked you through the fabric while you were busy–struggling–saying goodbye to Lily and Oscar.

You almost didn't want to get in the car with him, but to drag him to the nearest restroom and have him there. You were just on the verge of exploding, burning and dying a death of a thousand orgasms that needed to be let out, and let out now.

He put the car in drive, with you sitting right next to him, still wet and hard and throbbing. You didn't bother to keep your voice low this time. You huffed and fumed, wanting nothing more than to choke his pretty little neck.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking at you out of the corner of his eye to avoid a car accident with a grin on his face. He really is fucking crazy, you thought.

"You're so damn frustrating. Why haven't you touched me yet?"

"I'm touching you now." he smirked.

"You asshole! You're not touching me-Ah!" you yelped as he dug his thumb into your wetness and began rubbing you, his left hand steadily steering. You spread your legs as far as the car allowed and pulled your knee up, giving him as much access as you could.

"Oh god..." you relaxed and succumbed to your pleasure, making his thumb work at its full potential.

His other fingers were busy playing with your pussy, tracing the fabric to your entrance, but never actually going inside. You were breathing heavily as his fingers grazed closer to your clit each time he would repeat his movements. His thumb found your clit and started massaging it while his pointer and middle finger pulled your panties to the side and slipped in, parting your walls. You shuddered and moaned, but kept your eyes on the road ahead of you.

The way he was touching you was incredible, you were so wet that you could already feel the heat radiating from your skin. And he was doing all that while driving. One hand on the steering wheel, the other one down your panties.

He looked really hot, you had to admit to yourself, as you bit your lip glancing over at him. His eyes fixed on the road, concentration evident on his face as he drilled into you with his right hand. You wanted to lean over and kiss him.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting that spot. Pumping in and out, you were getting more and more jerky in the passenger seat, only the seat belt restraining you from bucking your hips forward. It was getting so good, so painfully good when he pulled his fingers out of you.

"Don't do that." you whined, as he noticed your hips jerking and tried to move his hand to make you come.

"What?"

"That," you breathed, "Pull your fingers out of me."

He chuckled and put his palm over your pussy again, stroking you from the top. You started getting wetter and your breaths got faster and louder.

"Lando... Please! Don't." you muttered, knowing that in a matter of minutes you'd achieve sweet release.

He continued nonetheless, his nails scratching your skin every time the pad of his thumb would meet with your clitoris. You groaned and spread your legs wider, moaning Lando's name as you came.

"Seriously?" he chuckled again, stopping at the red light.

"Shut up." you glared at him and puffed your disheveled hair out of your face. He was still smiling. "That was not funny." you hissed, removing his hand from you.

"I agree." he said, undeterred by your actions. He brought the hand that was on your pussy up to his mouth and licked his fingers clean. "Mm, now this is what I call dessert." he moaned, licking his lips and savoring the taste. "And that was your first orgasm of the night, babe."

"You're an asshole." you pouted.

"So you've told me." he drove off, his hand coming back to rub your thigh.

"Lando, I'm serious," you grabbed his fingers and pushed them away. "Stop."

"Babe, you should really learn to finish what you start." he said, his cottage cheese fingers now replaced by the dripping wetness of his mouth. "Did you forget?"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"I'm marrying you for your money."

"And your body." he added, letting his fingers lick your inner thigh.

"You bastard."

"We still have business to run when we get home." he announced, glancing quickly over at you. But your eyes were already half-lidded and there was a pleasant ache between your legs.

"Just drive." you muttered.

"I'm serious." he lightly chuckled, putting his right hand on your leg and rubbing you solidly through your skirt.

"We'll see." you adjusted yourself in the seat. You closed your eyes as you made yourself comfortable, enjoying the rest of the ride home.

Like he knew you needed a bit more rest, he took a longer route home. Pulling into your driveway, you smirked as the lights illuminated your face. You cleared your throat and fixed your skirt before exiting the car and sauntering over to the front of the house without giving a second glance to Lando. You made sure to sway your hips a little extra to grab his attention which worked, considering you were already unlocking the front door when you heard a soft click of his car door, meaning he stayed behind. Your feet were killing you and you only got to kick off one shoe when a pair of strong arms wrapped around you.

"Back where we started," he whispered.

"Something like that." you smiled, your hand grabbing the nape of his neck as you kicked the other shoe off. You stood flat on your bare feet, significantly shorter than him now.

He traced your shoulder with kisses up to your neck, his palms riding up your waist to cup your breasts. A low moan escaped you as he thumbed your nipple. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as your hips began to grind against him.

"I want you." you breathed into his ear.

He was hard against you and you could already feel yourself dripping wet for him. He turned you around, smashing your lips together as he picked you up and carried you to the living room couch. He sat down with you straddling him, your kissing already turned into a heavy make out session, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth and vice versa.

One hand on your hip helping you rock back and forth, the other one on your jaw and throat, choking lightly and keeping your head in place. His hips buckled up as you sped your movements, making him hiss into your mouth and bite harder on your lower lip. You let out a soft cry, but didn't let that stop you.

Now both of his hands roamed the open back of your dress, his face pressed flat in your cleavage until he brought one of his hands and tugged harshly down at the top of your dress, afraid you heard something snap.

"Oh, did I rip it? Did I rip it for good this time?" he got a bit too overly excited for your liking.

"Yeah, I think one of my straps snapped." you breathed, flustered.

"Thank god!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose in your cleavage. "I've been waiting for this day."

"I didn't realize you were such a fan of this dress." you sarcastically remarked, rolling your eyes, knowing damn well how he felt about it. You glanced down and saw he had torn the top of the dress almost to your belly button.

"Sorry." he grinned.

"No, you're not." you couldn't help but laugh. "You're going to make me buy a new one." you said, trying to push his face back into your cleavage.

"I'll pay for it." he nodded. You shook your head dismissively, deciding to let the subject go.

Coming up to your breasts, he pressed his palms over them before rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You moaned as he did, his breath hot on your skin. He moved his mouth to suck on your left breast, closing his eyes and taking in your scent. You let your hand fall to his waist, pulling at his belt. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, but only for a moment, before his tongue swirled around your right nipple. Your breath hitched when he grazed you with his teeth, your right hand tugging on his curls. He let your nipple pop out of his mouth before dragging his teeth over your skin, the sensation sending electric currents through you.

"I have an idea-"

"Oh no-"

"Can you stand up for me, please, love?" he innocently grinned up at you.

Just out of pure curiosity you listened to him. He turned you around so that your back was facing him.

"You're going to rip the rest off me, aren't you?"

"Guilty." he pulled the remaining strap down. Your hands were on the couch now, bracing yourself and waiting for his next move.

"You're so dirty." you said, unable to resist sounding disappointed.

"And you're so wet." he said, his fingers pressed up against your drenched panties.

"Shut up." you shuddered, his breath warming the back of your neck.

The fire in you was burning now. You felt his hands snake around your neck and his hot breath on your ear.

"Just because I don't like this dress doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you so much." he whispered.

"I love you more." you replied, relaxed.

He leaned in and kissed your back, all the way down your spine, making you shudder at the feeling of his soft lips against your skin. His hands gently grabbed the remaining fabric of the dress on your hips and in one swift motion, tore it off your body.

"Whoops," he said, dropping the shreds that once made up a dress on the floor.

"You tease." you smirked over your shoulder.

"You love it."

You nodded. You felt his hands gently grab your hips as he pushed you forward a bit and stood up behind you. One of his hands spread across your lower back and the other reached down to grasp on your thigh. He pulled you back against him and you could feel his hardness in between your ass cheeks as he kissed your shoulder. You felt his hand wander up your inner thigh and lightly graze your clit. You moaned in approval and he took that as a cue to keep going. He slipped a finger or two inside you and it was almost instant that he was tapping your g-spot.

"Lando." you breathed, fully leaning on him for support.

"Yes, love?" his voice was deep and low.

"I want you." you whined for the second time that evening.

"And you'll have me." he said, without providing much information on when that will be.

He laid you back on the couch, opening your legs to slide his arms in between your thighs. He lifted your butt off the couch and you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, anticipating the moment where he'd have his face between your legs.

He descended on top of you, his lips kissing your neck before moving over to your ear. His teeth grazed your earlobe and you shuddered as he sucked.

"More." you panted, your fingers clawing at his shirt.

He smirked, giving your ear one last lick before moving his attention to your lips. His rough hands maneuvered over your skin, finally gripping your breasts and pinching your nipples. Your hands cupped his face as he roughly bit down on your lower lip, then moving to your jaw and then your neck.

You pulled off his dress shirt as he attacked your neck with his mouth and his teeth. Your eyes fluttered close as his teeth sank into your shoulder. He pulled away, leaving a series of hickeys on your skin. He climbed back on top of you, his hands snaking down to grab your ass. He looked into your eyes, biting down on his lip as he pushed his hardness into your thigh. You wiggled your hips, getting impatient for him to be inside of you.

"So impatient," he remarked. "Can't you see I'm trying to take my time with you?"

"This is torture." you said instead.

"Now, baby," he said, kissing his way down from in between your chest to your stomach. "No need for dramatics."

Positioning his face just above your pussy, he gently removed your panties as he pushed your legs a bit more forward, angling you just the way he wanted you. Without previous warning, he ran his hot tongue all over you. Oh, god, real torture begins now, you thought.

A moan chocked in your throat as your mouth hung agape. It didn't take long for him to start lapping around your folds, suck on your clit and fuck into your entrance with his pointy tongue. You were a squirmy and moany mess, one hand pulling on his hair, the othe one gripping the couch, but he didn't cease. In fact, it only encouraged him to flick his tongue over your sensitivity and keep tasting you up.

Thighs shaking and repeatedly panting his name, your climax arrived sooner that you anticipated. He licked you clean one last time before getting on top of you once more and kissing you, making you taste yourself on his lips. You sank your teeth into his bottom lip as you sucked on it, receiving a moan into your mouth from him. He gave you a few more pecks before pulling you up by your arms into his embrace.

"What do you say we take this to the bedroom?" he questioned.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as he carried you like a child in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist.

He dropped you on the bed and fumbled with his pants. That gave you an opportunity to quickly get on your knees and take his belt off and unbutton his pants. He got the hint, taking them down. You rested your head on his thigh, looking up at him–pouting–as you stroked the bulge in his boxers. You probably couldn't count how many times he actually got a boner this evening and had to fight it. His lips parted, shaky breaths escaping him.

"Please..." he begged, fingers raking through your hair.

He didn't have to tell you twice to take his boxers off. After all, you could no longer deny him his pleasure after everything you've put him through this evening. He deserved his little treat. His length sprung forward and you rested it on your tongue. He shuddered, holding your head as you bobbed on him. You started going faster and it wasn't long before you could feel him twitching in your mouth.

You usually didn't do this, but you wanted to tease him as much as you could. When you felt him starting to lose his grip, you stopped and smiled as you looked up at him. Strands of saliva connected your mouth to his cock. He looked at you with a desperate look, his hands holding your head still.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Because you wanted to," you said, beaming.

He shook his head dismissively, returning a smile. You wrapped your lips around his tip again, sucking on him as hard as you could. His head fell back onto his shoulder, his eyes closed in ecstasy. You gripped him in your hands, stroking him as you bobbed your head up and down.

You stopped when it felt like his cock was about to burst. You let go and looked up at him and he caught you before you could say anything. He pulled you up and his lips crashed onto yours. The taste of him was still on your tongue, but you didn't mind. He kissed you tighter, his hands wrapped around your body, his fingers clawing at your lower back.

"Please, stop fucking teasing me." he groaned.

"I'm sorry." I pouted. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Want to show me just how sorry you are? Huh?" he grabbed your jaw, fixing your eyes on him. You nodded in response, this play only turning you on. "I'm going to fuck you right here." he muttered, his voice husky with lust. "Right on this bed, where I have fucked you numerous times before." he took your arms and pinned them to your sides. "Don't. Fight. Me." he warned, making sure not to repeat previous mistakes.

You shook your head and let out a nervous giggle.

"That's my girl." he leaned forward to kiss you again.

You moaned into it, pressing your body against him. His palm rubbed up your leg, parting it wider as he went to your thigh. He held your leg as he slipped it over his shoulder, his fingers brushing faintly over you, your hips bucking against him, urging him to go. He obliged by slipping two fingers. Your back arched up, your head falling back as you groaned.

"So wet for me." he grinned.

"You just don't know what you do to me." you explained, rocking your hips, enjoying the feeling of his fingers filling you up.

"I'll show you what I'm going to do to you." he claimed, gripping your hand and intertwining your fingers. His other hand was working its way further up your thigh and stopping above your knee.

"Do it, Lando." you pleaded.

He hoisted your other leg over his shoulder as well, changing the angle of your body and pushed himself into you. You twisted your head to look at him, your mouth hanging open as you let out a loud cry.

"Oh, fuck me, Lando..." you said breathily.

"Say my name." he rocked his hips faster.

"Lando," you gasped, your thighs beginning to shake.

"Louder." he commanded, squeezing your ass in his hands. "You're louder when you come."

"Lan... Lando!" you moaned, throwing your head back again.

The feeling was so overwhelming that you could feel yourself on the brink of climax. Your thighs started to shake violently and your stomach felt like it was being tickled on the inside. You moaned his name, trying to stifle a scream as you felt the most intense orgasm wash over you. You felt like you were going to pass out. It really had to be the most incredible feeling you ever experienced. You could feel him still hunched over you, filling you up.

"Lay down," he ordered.

"I can't even move," you gasped. "I'm numb."

"Good." he chuckled. "It means you enjoyed yourself."

"What about you?" you asked him.

"I'm covered in you." he kissed you. "That's more than enough."

"I want to make you feel good." you said, trying to catch your breath.

"That's something I'll have to work for." he smirked at you, rolling his cock inside you.

You bit your lip to keep you from moaning as you twisted your hips and dug your nails into his skin. He started kissing and sucking on your neck and your hands fell to his shoulders.

"I think you've had enough fun." he said, nibbling on your ear.

"Too much is never enough." you giggled. "Just stay inside me." you whispered as you put your arms back around his neck.

"I can do that." he smiled before kissing you.

He started thrusting in and out of you slowly, changing the angle again. You moaned into the kiss, your arms tightening around him. You started rocking your hips in sync with his thrusts, filling you up even more. He let go of your arms and cupped your face, still kissing you. You moved your hands to his neck and tangled your fingers into his hair.

"Oh, my god," you moaned into his mouth. "This feels so good."

"Tell me what you feel," he said between kisses.

"I feel full." you said breathily. "Like your cock is stretching me out." this dirty talk made you giggle.

"Tell me how it feels filling you up." he encouraged.

"I feel like I'm ready to burst," you said, shuddering. "I love it."

He pushed into you deeper and his lips found your collar bone.

"Good," he groaned. "I want you to feel good."

"I do." you breathed. "Oh, my god, I do." your eyes rolled back.

"Are you going to come again?" he asked, changing the speed of his thrusts.

"I don't know." you said. "Don't stop." you hugged him closer.

You felt the muscles in your body tightening and you knew you were about to climax again. He pulled back and looked down at you.

"Stay with me." he said, thrusting harder.

"I can't." you moaned.

He lifted you up, changing the position again. He slid out of you slightly then pushed in hard, hitting you in the right spot.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, arms falling back to your side. "Fuck!" you screamed.

"Good girl," he pulled your face up and kissed you.

You came so hard that your vision went blurry and you felt like passing out again. You could feel him still thrusting into you, trying to keep pace. You bucked against him, your hips constricting as he came inside of you, groaning your name. He put you back down on the bed, his hands still on your body, gently rubbing your skin. You felt like you were on top of the world.

"I love you." you said, turning your head to face him. "So much."

"I love you." he replied, kissing your forehead.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit bratty today." you snuggled closer to him.

"Nah, I deserved it." he played with your fingers on his stomach. "And if I didn't, I know why you do it anyway." he shot you a quick glance.

"Oh, really?" you challenged.

"Uh huh. Don't get me wrong, it's hot and all, but babe, if you want me to fuck you hard all you have to do is ask."

"You're unbelievable." you shoved his shoulder and turned around, getting further away from him as possible. "Let's see the next time I behave like that and you don't get anything." you tucked yourself in with a duvet.

"Babe," he called and rolled his body closer to yours, hugging you from behind. "It was a joke. With some truth in it, but you know-"

You turned around just to hit his chest."

"Asshole."

"Princess."

You snuggled into the crook of his neck as he rested his chin on top of your head, your limbs tangled together.

"Prick."

"Babygirl."

"Wanker."

"If you want round three just say that." even though you both laughed, you still hit him with your fist.

"Fucking idiot."

"Love of my life."

You're not sure when exactly did he stop whispering names of endearment in your ear for you fell asleep in his arms to the sound of his voice with a hint of a smile plastered on your face.

2K notes · View notes

kometqh · 1 year ago

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭

Captain Rex x F!Jedi!Reader Pt.2 Your first kiss with Rex, when the two of you were young and hopeful, and your last one, where he wished for nothing more than to protect you, to be by your side until your very last breath. Word Count: 5389 Warnings: Minor swearing (?), sad Rex, creepy man alert. A/N: I'm not proud of or satisfied with the first half, but I needed to pour my Rex love out into words <3

The first time you and Rex shared a kiss, it was.. Sudden. It was thrilling. It was indescribable, really.

It had blood rushing to your cheeks in spurs, heat spreading throughout your body as his fingers gripped bruises onto your hips, his lips hot and soft against your own, trapping you between his broad shoulders and an old, sticky counter.

The two of you had been sent on a mission, a Jedi and a Clone Captain. Hand in hand, the two of you played a newly married couple as you had been tasked by the Jedi Council. At first, you had no objections, but when you realised it meant the two of you would be fully and wholly alone, your hands began to tremble, your heart began to rattle and all your resolve seemed to crumble.

Sure, you were solid in your beliefs, and that included ignoring your ever-growing crush on the blonde, tan-skinned, honey eyed Captain of the 501st.

But with more convincing, General Skywalker and Kenobi had managed to get you to agree, and soon the two of you were shipped off to a supposedly Neutral planet, where your bounty hunter had taken cover from the GAR's watchful eyes.

The air on this planet was nothing short of stuffy, particles clinging to your lungs like thick lumps of goo. The streets were nothing but grime, sweat and dirt as your eyes scanned the place. There were potholes in the roads, small crowds of traders and sellers and horse-riders, as well as the occasional trios of smokers that hung outside bars. The streetlights were the only source of light, the planet's moons having been hidden away behind a thick, lingering swarm of clouds.

Rex could feel your shoulders stiffening, and on instinct he had pulled you closer. According to the coordinates provided by General Kenobi, the bounty hunters' hideout was just a mere few-minute walk away from your current position, and so, the two of you made your way there.

Numerous stall owners had attempted to steal your attention away, offering glamorous jewels and accessories and flashy trinkets, but were quickly shut up and dismissed by one hard glare from Rex, his fingers finding solace on your shoulder, keeping you protectively close.

He himself wasn't all too willing to embark onto this mission, but an order was an order, no matter how hard General Skywalker attempted to mask it as a request, as a choice.

And now, having you this close, Rex was almost forced to question all the rules and regulations that the longnecks and the Council and the Republic had imposed, had implanted into the clones, onto himself. With your scent invading his senses, with your warmth being shared between the two of you, Rex wasn't so sure if he was willing to stay single for the rest of his life.

Not when your nimble fingers latched themselves around his biceps like soft snares, caressing and squeezing the flesh, feeling the sturdy muscle beneath. He could feel goose bumps rise across his arms and shoulders, as your touch set off fiery sparks on his skin, as your gaze melted away his cold exterior.

As he glanced down at you, his chest tightened, seeing the way the orange lights warmed up your face, created a warm glow, made you look prettier, enhanced your features. A hint of a shadow danced across your cheekbones from under your lashes, microscopic freckles scattered across like stars in the night sky. Maybe, just maybe, one day the two of you would live in a Republic where he could, where he would, confess his adoration for you.

But he saw no such thing happening anytime soon.

His thoughts were interrupted as a loud, irritating whistle caught his attention, and you came to a slow halt.

"Whatcha got there, lad? You sellin'?" A scratchy voice had asked, and Rex's eyes narrowed as he noticed a Weequay pirate had made his way over to them, his eyes scanning you up and down, hunger swirling in his thin, cat-like irises. A smirk tugged at his awfully chapped lips, and his right hand was perched on his hip, settling just above his blaster.

A weak gasp left your lips as Rex half-shielded your body from view, and if you hadn't been pushed behind him, maybe your heart would have pumped faster at the sight of his frown.

"Can't you see she's taken, lad?" Rex asked, his voice loud and sturdy as he glared at the man. You didn't have your lightsabers on you, nor could you fight off the pirate whilst undercover.

"Woah woah, calm down my friend, I was merely asking." The pirate stated, a frown appearing on his face as he looked between your seemingly spooked figure and Rex's ready-to-fight stance.

Looking up at Rex, you tugged on his hand, silently pleading to keep moving. Your lightsaber was safely stored away in Rex's backpack, and it meant you couldn't have acted as swiftly as you would of if it had instead been attached to your hip.

With a groan, Rex shoo his head, puffing his chest out like a proud lion. "She is not for sale, she's with me, she's my wife, and you, you better keep your grubby paws and eyes off her." Rex growled out, his chest rumbling with a newfound dominance.

"Or else-"

"Rex.." You whispered, one handlightly tugging his shoulder, "It's okay. Let's keep going." You insisted, snaking your hand along the side of his neck to cup his jaw. His gaze softened at the sight of you, and with a small nod of his head, the two of you moved away, Rex bumping into the pirate's shoulder with more than enough force to knock him to the ground.

The two of you walked in a semi-comfortable silence, not exchanging any words, and you preferred that. If you had to speak now, you were worried you'd stumble over your words and start blushing like a teenager. He was so effortlessly kind, so thoughtful, so sweet.

What would you do without your favourite Captain?

Probably sink into the earth or something.

Looking up, a small smile appeared on your lips; the clouds were scattering away under the wind currents, and the twin moons were beginning to peak out from under their cover. A cool, blue light engulfed the two of you, mixing with the war orange glow from the street stands, and your breath was caught in your throat as you looked up to Rex.

His honey eyes reflected the purple mix, darkening under it as he stared ahead, occasionally glancing at his holopad. There was a familiar crease settled between his brows, crows feet crinkling at the outer corners of his eyes as his expression screamed 'Focused!', his gloved hand warm against the bare skin on your bicep.

His stubble, which he usually kept cleanly shaven, was now beginning to grow back, giving him a more mature, yet tired look. Your fingers itched to just caress his face, to feel those short, spiky hairs against your palm, to make him feel at ease under your touch.

He glanced to the side, his eyes widening as the two of you made instant eye contact, but a soft smirk appeared when he noticed you hurriedly looking away, anywhere but him.

He definitely liked to see you flustered.

After a short while, the two of you came to a stop in front of a small staircase, a few lingering figures smoking, and tall, dark brown doors that led to the inside of the club.

The figures scoffed at the sight of you, muttering something about being 'rich' or too 'formal', but you paid them no mind as Rex placed his palm on the small of your back, glancing sideways as he ushered you forward.

As the doors opened, your senses were flooded with the smell and feel of thick smoke, choking you from the inside-out more so than the air outside. Loud music pumped through hidden speakers, and a swarm of bodies was tangled up on the dance floor, moving in rhythmic beats, flashing lights and singing making the room feel stuffy, and much smaller than it really was.

There was sweat on the walls, different coloured lights basking the otherwise dark space in all shades of the rainbow.

Quickly, you took a hold of Rex's bicep, stuttering in your steps as you looked to him for guidance, and the male felt a surge of pride sprouting in his chest, knowing that you trusted him enough to seek protection from him.

Without a second thought, he lead you to the bar, ordering the two of you drinks strong enough to survive the clamminess of the place.

Then, the two of you found seats at a faraway booth, sitting close enough for your arms to touch. You took an awkward sip of your drink, a horrible bitterness hammering your tongue, a shiver going down your spine as the liquid burned the back of your throat.

"What was this called again, Rex? Beer?" You semi-shouted over the loud music, your lips just inches away from touching his ear.

Without a thought, Rex turned his face to you, towering lightly over you as you leaned against his shoulder. Your eyes widened, a soft gasp parting your lips. His own eyes looked over yours, a smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, it's called beer, mesh'la. Why? D'you not like it?" He asked, nudging his chin to point at the glass. He watched as you chewed on your bottom lip, suppressing the grimace that fought to make its way onto your face.

He never really saw you be so expressive around anyone else, not even around General Skywalker and General Kenobi. Was he an exception? He had waited to spend one-on-one time with you for so long, always being stuck by Skywalker's side.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and Rex couldn't stop himself from putting an arm around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer. The gasp that escaped your lips was luckily covered by the loud booming of the music, and the flush on your face was somewhat masked by the bouncing lights, or so you hoped.

Rex's breath fanned over the top of your head, his hand tracing circles into your skin, though his eyes remained observant, scanning the room, as he took another sip of his own drink.

You looked back to your own drink, a scowl forming on your face as you cringed at the thought of having to finish it. But, a plan formed in your mind. The two of you were supposed to be playing a couple in love, right?

Why not.. spice things up a little?

Without a second thought, you turned to Rex.

"If you drink that whole glass in ten seconds, the rest of the drinks will be on me tonight." Your voice was loud, your lungs straining to produce sound over the music, but it seemed to work as Rex thought about your offer, taking a moment to reply.

"And I get to choose?" He asked, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

With an eager nod, you watched Rex sigh defeatedly, reaching over for your glass.

"But you better be fair, or else." He winked at you, and neared the glass to his lips. His brothers often engaged in games like this, making bets or starting competitions, their favourite being 'How to get Fives drunk the fastest' or 'How to make Fives strip tease for the civvies'.

He himself never got drunk, only somewhat tipsy, so it would definitely be a new experience for him.

Drinking with you by his side, without the peering eyes of his brothers or the Republic. Here, it was just him and you.

"On the count of one," You begun, a grin growing on your lips as Rex readied himself, "Three.." His posture straightened up, his gaze daring you, "Two.." His grip on the glass tightened, and you felt yourself swallowing a growing lump, looking up at Rex through a thick curtain of lashes, lips parted, "One!"

With that, you began counting down, swallowing thickly as you watched Rex tilt the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with every gulp he took. You almost considered speeding up your counting, as in five seconds he was done with half of the glass.

A laugh escaped you as some of the beer began to spill down his chin, rolling in thick beads down his neck. At that point, he won. Your attention was completely focused on his neck, eyes glazing over him eagerly, and you wondered what it would be like to trace the column of his neck, to lick the alcohol off of his neck, would he like that? What would he sound like?

"Done!" Rex's exclamation startled you, the bang of the glass against the table effectively making you jump out of your skin.

A loud laugh echoed, and as you looked up, Rex was just wiping his lips.

"Now, you owe me a drink," He said, taking a hold of your chin as he cheekily smiled, "Or a couple." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, and rested back against the booth seat.

With a roll of your eyes, you got up from your seat and made your way towards the bar.

"Five shots of Spotchka for me mesh'la!" He shouted after you, and a laugh escaped your lips. As you ordered the drinks, a giddy smile tugged at your lips. Who would have thought that the two of you could share such a normal, such an ordinary day together? Especially at a bar like this of all places? Not even in your wildest dreams would you have imagined Rex and you playing a couple, clinging onto each other like koalas, or sharing drinks like this.

Never would you have imagined you would get the chance to be close to Rex like this, maybe if one of you were carrying the other off a battlefield, but that's it really.

You were one lucky-

"You alone miss?" Someone spoke lowly into your ear, a foreign hand caressing the small of your back.

"What the-" You turned around, shaking away from their touch. "Who are you?" You asked, one eyebrow quirked as you looked the man up and down. He was definitely a local, dressed in dark brown trousers and khaki coloured shirt, his face looked worn, wrinkles scattered all over, his beard outgrowing a stubble and his breath reeked of alcohol and cigarrettes.

His eyes though, they were sullen and fighting against his will to stay awake and upright, they showed an exhausted man, a vexed man, a dangerous man. You knew that without your lightsaber you'd be completely and utterly screwed, but maybe you could talk your way out of this?

"I've been looking for some.. fresh meat," He paused, licking his lips as he looked you up and down, expectantly. His breath stank, and you had to fight really hard not to let your disgust show. "You looked a bit lonely, y'know.." He continued, and you felt a shiver run up your spine as he reached a hand to caress your shoulder.

Thinking back to how Rex was probably waiting for you, you felt a sense of comfort; he'd come if you took too long.

"Well actually I-I'm with someone-" You tried to reason, but the man shut you up with a sharp glare and a sloppy shake of his head.

"No no, sweetheart, I think you misunderstood me," He growled out, voice rumbling in your ears, "You're coming with me."

His rough hand felt like sand paper to your skin, unlike Rex's gentle, careful fingers that worked their way to yours, held you with so much care.

His shirt slouched over his bony form, and you could see sweat staining the material.

"Sir, I would advise you to let go of me or-"

"Or what? What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Scream? Kick?" He taunted, trapping your body between his own and the bar. Why was no one batting an eye at this? Was everyone so horribly drunk? Where was Rex?

You shook your head, pushing at his chest.

"Just let go of me you creep." You hissed, freeing yourself from his grasps. A scowl overtook his features, a red light shining directly onto his face. What the hell? Why was he so stubborn on taking you away?

Just as his lips parted, his small frame was roughly shoved to the side, and you paused in your tracks as something soft, something warm crashed against your lips.

Large hands held your hips in place as his lips melted against yours, pushing against you, body flush against your own. Your eyes snapped open, but closed once more when you realised who it was.

Your arms snaked around his neck, nails grazing against his scalp as you reciprocated this welcomed feeling. Your breaths mingled together, his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip, wordlessly asking for permission.

Granting it, your tongues swirled together, and he hummed in approval as his hips pushed you further into the counter, the wood digging painfully into the skin and bones. His body towered over yours as the two of you kissed, completely lost in each other's warm embrace, completely forgetting about the creep that had now moved away, shaking his head and muttering disgruntled 'Okay I get it's'.

As Rex slowly pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips, almost whining at the loss of warmth. But a small smile tugged at your lips as you looked into his eyes, noticing how glazed over his irises were, how softly he looked at you, as if you were his precious treasure, his whole world, his universe.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that for, mesh'la." He mumbled as he leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttered close with a content smile on his face.

A soft huff escaped through your nose, and you softly nodded, placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Me too, Captain, me too."

The last time you and Rex kissed, it was passionate, it was hopeful, it was precious.

There was a spare hour before you and your squadron were to depart for another search-and-rescue mission, off to a rather politically-influential planet, busy with preparing your ships, guns, provisions, belongings and, most of all, your goodbyes. You were confident that the mission would be a successful one, after all, how hard was it to find a missing princess?

However, the creases etched onto Rex's features had your chest tightening, had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek, had you fiddling with your fingers. That familiar scrunch of his eyebrows, whenever he was anxious, was present, crow's feet dancing at the outer corners of his eyes.

He kept his hands grasped together behind his back as he paced the hallway outside your room in circles, muttering and mumbling under his nose with hushed breaths.

The apples of his cheeks that were normally so full and chubby, were now sullen and drained of their usual roundness, the familiar bright glint in his starry eyes you loved so much, suddenly replaced by a dark, dusky chill.

As the door to your room slid open, Rex had lifted his head, golden puppy eyes widened, relief flooding his features. His pacing had come to a slow stop as he peered at you, breathless.

A sigh escaped your lips, the muscles in your throat tensing, your shoulders stiffening.

"Rex..? What's-" He was quick to interrupt your words, grasping your shoulders in a gentle hold as he pushed you back inside your quarters, the doors shutting behind him with a gentle whizz and thud.

"Mesh'la.. You can't go." As the words left his lips, your heart squeezed, like a wet rug being drained of water. It twisted and pulled, tugging at the heartstrings until they were ready to burst. Where was this coming from, why was he so worried? It was only going to be a simple mission. The corners of your lips tugged downwards in a frown, suddenly gaining on a new weight to them that hadn't been there before.

Your hands came up to hold his face, smoothing out the lines that had scattered across.

"Rex, what's gotten into you? What's wrong?" You asked, your voice merely a hushed whisper as you neared your face to his. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly, nervously. His eyes searched yours, the first hint of tears surfacing.

His hold against you was tight, yet so full of love and care. One of his hands had slid up to cradle the side of your face, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the soft skin underneath, his warmth radiating onto you like a heavy blanket. His scent, the scent of fresh aftershave and gunpowder, was invading your senses, binding you completely useless under the spell of your lover.

With a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttered closed, crows feet tugging at the corners before he opened them back up, his feelings hidden behind an array of lusciously thick lashes and a steel-hard facade.

"That thing.. What Fives said b-before he- before he died," He paused, his gaze dropping down to the floor, his shoulders stuttering under the shakiness of his breaths, "About the chips. What if it's true?"

At that, your lips merged into a fine line, your hold on his face losening just the slightest.

"Rex, look at me," You spoke, lifting his chin with the tips of your fingers, soft stubble brushing against the pads, "Do you truly believe in what he said?" You questioned, searching his eyes for something, for a clue. If this worried him so much, then why did he keep it hidden from you until now? Did he hear something he shouldn't have? Did he see something that confirmed what Fives had said?

"I didn't see or hear anything, if that's what you're thinking, mesh'la," His quiet voice just barely reached your ears, the gravelly hum grazing against the shells of your ears, like waves crashing against a sandy shore, and you wouldn't have heard his hushed whisper if you weren't leaning in so close, "But General Skywalker.. he- he hasn't been the same since Ahsoka left the order, he's been more unnerved, more reckless, more irrational and he's putting my squadron, my men, my brothers in danger, kriff, even you!" He exclaimed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. His stomach twisted and turned, bile readily rising, burning, in his throat as he realised what he had just said.

If this was anyone but you, he was sure to be court martialed, accused of treason or desserting the army, or conspiring, even. But this wasn't just anyone, this wasn't General Kenobi or Master Windu; this was you. His General, his friend, his comfort, his love.

Surely, you'd understand where he was coming from.

You had allowed him a short respite, pulling him into your embrace as the tears had begun to spill over. One hand caressing his hair, the other rubbed comforting circles into the tense muscles on his back. He wasn't wearing his armour, for some weird enough reason, though you could inquire about that later.

For now, Rex's wellbeing was your priority.

Your lips gently brushed against his ear as you spoke, your voice smooth and soft, like velvet, barely rising above a whisper. "Rex, we both know, forming attachments, relationships, is strictly forbidden.. But, has that ever stopped anyone? It certainly hasn't stopped me or you, so it definitely hasn't stopped General Skywalker," You paused, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his sickeningly sweet scent, "Ahsoka was like a daughter to him, Rex, a little sister to you. He's going through the same pain as you, but multiply that by two." You whispered, feeling Rex's silent tears ease into light, stuttering breaths, his gloved hands grasping tightly onto your robes.

The distant hum of active machinery and faraway footsteps filled the silence between the two of you, bouncing off the iron-hard walls, drowning out the sound of your breathing, masking the sound of Rex's gentle, feather-light tears and sobs.

He had been through far too much in his short life, he had seen too much, heard, experienced more than enough. The numerous, countless deaths of his brothers, each dying on a cursed battlefield, sacrificing their lives dying for a cause that did little to care for them. The disappearance of Echo, the death of Hardcase, the death of Fives. All men who had been by his side for so, so many years.

And then, General Tano leaving the Jedi order.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

He could no longer force and tie down that sense of fear, that sense of insecurity which twisted at his heartstrings, constricting painfully each time a new terror occurred. It squeezed at his lungs, suffocating him, dragging him down like a boulder tied to one of the many seas found on Kamino.

Kamino.

His.. home?

The longnecks never did care for the Clones, all they were to them was a moneygrab. An expensive one, at that. Who knew when the Republic would run out of money to produce more clones? Who knew when they would get tired of the many fruitless battles they so bravely fought? Who knew?

Those questions plagued Rex's mind like a stalkish nightmare, always there, hiding away in the deepest corners of his mind, creeping in every time he'd let his eyelids flutter closed.

But then, there was a light.

A golden, brightly burning flame, offered by an extended hand.

It came in the form of your touch.

Anytime you'd touch his shoulder, graze the soft skin of your palm along his jaw, place feather-light kisses against his nape, Rex could feel the tightness-

No.

He could feel the fear that clawedat his chest slowly dissipate away. Inch by inch, the feeling of your skin against his, the sound of your voice dripping like honey, the warmth that radiated off of you like the sun, it washed the sticky, oozing black substance away in waves, it purged the darkness that tried to taint his heart and mind, his resolve and his beliefs.

His breathing had slowly come to a still, the trembling that had travelled throughout his body had eventually ceased, allowing the two of you to sit in a comfortable, peaceful silence.

His fingers caressed the soft material of your shirt, tracing each slight bump of bone within the curve of your spine, his heart swelling with adoration at every soft exhale and chuckle that escaped your chest at his ministrations.

With you hidden away in his arms, away from harm's way, Rex began to feel at peace again.

But that's just what you did; you put anyone and everyone at ease. You just had that effect.

He didn't know if it was something to do with your force-sensitivity, or if it was just a personality trait. He wasn't about to complain though.

The tip of his nose gently nudged against the top of your head, slowly, taking note of the change in the scent. The corners of his lips nudged slightly upwards, crows feet tugging at the corners of his tired eyes.

"New shampoo?" He asked, his voice low and raspyed as he continued inhaling your scent.

Underneath him, he felt vibrations, your shoulders shaking as you snickered in his arms, the air escaping your lungs in short, joyful tufts.

"Yeah, I was getting fed up of the one provided by the Republic. It's peach scented, d'you like it?" You had asked, tilting your head upwards to catch a glimpse of his honey-glazed eyes. As he looked at you, he couldn't help the rapid rattling of his heart, warmth flooding his chest at the sight of you.

Your face tilted upwards, hands grasping his biceps, lone tufts of hair framing your face, the smug smile on your face as you looked up at him with those beautiful, glassy irises. It was like you were his own personal sunshine, small enough for him to cradle you within his clutches, tuck you away into his pocket, keep you by his side during combat.

Warm enough to chip away at the foul insecurities and fears that clogged his mind during his every waking moment.

His gaze flickered to your lips, and Rex sucked in a sharp breath as he noticed you nibbling lightly on your bottom lip, a shadow cast onto your cheekbones through a row of long, luscious lashes.

Neither of you said a word as Rex's hand cradled the side of your face, closing the short gap between the two of you. You closed your eyes, a joyful huff escaping your chest as his lips collided with yours in a passionate, slow exchange.

His fingers caressed your skin with such care, with such gentleness, with such love, it made your heart beat faster and your blood burn hot with adoration. They swept down from the top of your cheekbone, along the shell of your ear, and finally found their place on your jawbone, his pinky settling for caressing small, short strokes along your jaw and the top of your neck. His other hand came up to do the same, pulling you closer than was thought to be humanly possible.

His breath fanned over your face, and his scent flooded your nostrils, soft vanilla mixed with his natural musky scent.

It invaded your senses, engulfing you like a chilly summer afternoon on one of your rare days off, like the warm summer rain that soaked your clothes, tugged at the tips of your hair, like the warm rays of sun that peaked through the windows as you slept, summoning you to wake up, to feel alive, to feel loved.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your tongue brushing against Rex's bottom lip. You felt his shoulders shake under the heaviness of your palms, and it was soon followed by a soft chuckle as his hands tilted your head, angling it to provide him better access to your body, your lips, your soul.

Your lips melting together, your heart swells with admiration and love for your soldier, and for a moment a fleeting thought wedges itself inside your mind; you and Rex. You and Rex and small children, a tall farmhouse sat behind your figures as the children splash around in a shallow pond, their joyful screams and shouts bringing a smile to your face as you and Rex relax further back, his arm cradling you close to his body.

But that thought is gone as fast as it came, a ghost of your past wishes and longings. But maybe, just maybe once the war ended, the two of you would be able to achieve such a future. Afterall, where there is love, there is hope, and where there is hope, there is life, right?

The two of you are interrupted as your intercom goes off, signaling for your attention. The incessant beeping is loud and repetitive, enough to cause a tension headache in you.

Slowly, you began to pull away, your eyes fluttering open once more, your lips stinging as the cold air of your room replaced the warm plush of Rex's lips. You swallowed hard, releasing a short breath as you looked up into his golden eyes again, a pained expression settled in them again.

"Rex.. It's time for me to go," You whispered, bringing your hand up to caress his face as the man pulled you close, his fingers fiddling with the material of your shirt. He burried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time, "I will contact you as soon as we land, or if anything happens, okay?" You asked, nudging his forehead with yours.

As he lifted his head, Rex felt that same fear overcome him again, tearing away at his heart, choking him up in an iron-tight hold.

"You better update me on everything, and I mean everything, do you understand?" He asked, his gaze hardening and his eyebrows furrowing as he maintained steady eye contact, conveying his worry for you.

With a small nod of your head, you rose from the bed, whispering a soft 'I love you' before you gave him one last kiss, your touch leaving burning trails on his skin as the doors quietly slid shut behind your retreating figure, looking back at Rex one last time, committing the sight of him to your memory, your voice reaching his ears as you answered your intercom.

His gaze remained on the doors, and Rex heaved a long, deep sigh.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rex, she's gonna be back."

But were you?

347 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 1 month ago

Text

It's You

Season Three Episode Ten (Season Finale)

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 5389

Series Masterlist

Summary: It’s finally here. The wedding.

Notes: Ahhhhhhhh I have been planning this episode since the beginning of the series and I can’t believe we’re here. I honestly got a little emotional writing this. They’ve all just come so far! Thank you all so so much for your support this season. (I promise this isn’t the end just yet). Always let me know what you think and what you might be hoping for in season four.

It was strange, staying in his apartment again. But Penelope had insisted that this was one tradition worth keeping. So you woke up on a pullout couch instead of in your fiance’s arms for the sake of not seeing each other before the ceremony. It was early. She’d insisted on that too. You’d have breakfast at Aaron’s and be at her place by 8:00 sharp for non-alcoholic mimosas and the getting-ready get-together of your dreams. Her words, of course.

Coffee mercifully filled your senses as you rubbed your tired eyes. And beneath it…

“Is that-” You took a long, deep breath. “Pancakes?”

Shuffling into the kitchen, you found your brother standing over a griddle with maple syrup and chocolate chips set on the table.

“I can’t remember the last time you made me pancakes.” You laughed through a yawn and pulled up a chair.

Aaron shrugged. “It’s a special occasion.”

“I should have gotten married sooner.”

He smiled and flipped it in the air, a trick he used to do all the time when you were having a bad day.

“What time is Garcia working her ‘magic’.”

You groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“You’ll have JJ and Prentiss to reign her in.” He plated a trio of fluffy pancakes and drowned them in syrup, just how you liked it.

The fork trembled in your hand, scratching against the plate. No matter how many bites you took, nothing eased your growing nerves.

“I can do this,” you said. “Right?”

He just kept smiling.

A honk sounded from outside and your phone buzzed with the text telling you Emily was here to pick you up.

Aaron handed you a to-go cup full of coffee.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Make sure Derek goes easy on him?” You pulled him in for a hug. “I’m sure he’s squirrely enough without the teasing.”

“I’ll try my best.” Aaron urged you toward the door. “Now get going. Before the three of them come chasing up here.”

You gave him one final, semi-terrified smile, and headed out.

He took a shaky breath, fighting back the emotions clouding his head, and poured three more pancakes onto the griddle.

The dress bag hung on the back of Penelope’s bedroom door, staring you down like a big white monster. Claws of combs and heels littered the ground, makeup bags piled around in a dragon’s hoard.

You swallowed.

You could do this.

“Earth to Y/N,” JJ teased. She was laying out the bridesmaid dresses on the sofa, along with organizing the boxes and boxes of shoes you needed to try on. “Everything okay?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.” Emily nudged you, grinning.

“I heard that,” Penelope called from the other room. “You know the rules, Emily.”

“Right,” Emily laughed. “The ‘forbidden words’. My bad.” Rolling her eyes, she went out into the hallway, waiting to be let back in by Garcia.

“You know,” you said, “I'm pretty sure that only works in theater.”

“We’re abiding by the laws of the Scottish Play today.” She allowed Emily to re-enter, but not without a scolding look. “Positive, warm vibes only in this establishment.”

“Okay, okay.” Emily held up her hands. “Who knew brideszilla would be one of the bridesmaids?”

Penelope gave her a playful smack to the shoulder and shuffled back to start bringing out jewelry.

“You really didn’t have to do all of this, Penelope,” you said, gazing at the gorgeous necklaces and bracelets she laid out.

“I wanted to.” She held up one necklace up to your chest to see how it would look. “I think something simpler would be best, don’t you?”

“I could just wear my-” You started, but cut yourself off. You were going to say locket. The locket that was now locked away in evidence. The one that had hung around Haley’s neck after she…

JJ stopped placing dresses and sat beside you.

“I’m sure we’ll find something perfect,” she said softly, taking your hand in hers.

You swallowed hard and, after a while, nodded.

“Okay, I can’t resist,” Penelope announced. “Group hug. Stat.” Without warning, she pulled the three of you into a cramped, loving embrace.

The rest of the morning passed in laughter. You went through various hairstyles, lipsticks, nail polishes until settling on what Penelope called ‘The Look’. Then came the dress. It took all three of them to help you in it and lace it up, but the moment the last clasp was done, you felt a little different. It was silly, of course. You’d already tried the dress on. But something about wearing it now, having it on along with the right shoes and the veil, it all made it real.

Penelope started crying again. Even JJ got a little teary eyed. Emily only tore her eyes away to check her watch.

“Alright, ladies,” she said, beaming. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

The drive to the book store consisted of packing into Emily’s car, desperately trying to make sure the bottom of the dress didn’t drag. JJ rode in front while Penelope helped keep everything straightened out on you in the back, still having to dab her eyes every few minutes. They all had changed into their bridesmaid’s dresses and you were content with your choice. They all looked beautiful. You imagined what younger you would have thought, planning a wedding in kindergarten like the other girls in your class. And now, here you were.

With every stop light, your heart pounded more and more in your chest.

You were doing this.

You closed your eyes and took a breath.

You were doing this.

Aaron was waiting outside and, the second you saw him, everything stilled. Your big brother. Your protector. You couldn't imagine anyone else to be the one with you down that aisle.

With a final group hug, your three bridesmaids gathered to begin the procession. Derek and Dave were already inside, the ladder being the officiant. You still couldn’t believe he’d said yes.

Spencer was waiting.

You took another breath.

“Hey,” Aaron greeted.

You exhaled. “Hey.”

When you looked into his eyes, you almost broke to see the tears gathering there. There was a mix of emotions, from happiness, to grief that Haley couldn't share this with you, but the pride in his face beat out everything else.

“You look beautiful.” He barely got the words out, having to clear his throat to say it again. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

He offered his arm.

You hooked yours through.

“Catch me if I fall?” You asked, voice starting to shake.

Aaron just chuckled and kissed your cheek. “Always.

The music began and the doors opened.

He hadn’t stopped fidgeting since he got there, no matter how many times Rossi told him he’d fray the sleeves if he kept pulling at strings. Spence couldn’t help it. Every minute he stood there was another minute everyone was watching him. It wasn’t a large group, of course, but every pair of eyes still made him twitch under his skin.

“Calm down, kid,” Morgan teased, straightening his own suit jacket beside him. He elbowed his side. “You’re just vowing yourself to one person for the rest of your life.” He chuckled. “Hotch will be your brother-in-law.”

“Will you shut up?” Spencer hissed, though his eyes were bright, even beneath the gazes of everyone else.

Then, their focus shifted to the open door.

First, Emily came through, a bouquet of lilac. Then, JJ with lilies. Penelope with orchids.

Spencer inhaled a silent gasp.

You stood at the end of the aisle, roses in hand, and more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen. Like every hero of every book he’d ever read, you stood with a strength he’d always wished he had.

He didn’t realize his eyes had teared up until Morgan put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a nod.

“You picked a good one, kid,” he whispered, seeming to get choked up himself.

You walked side by side with Aaron, gripping him like a life preserver. Everyone on either side of the aisle was standing, staring at you. All you could think was don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall. You regretted letting Penelope convince you to go with the stilettoes.

Meeting Spencer’s eyes made your knees almost buckle. Tears filled the corners of his eyes and yours mimicked them.

Aaron led you to the front of the store, in front of a big window that overlooked the park behind it.

Spencer could finally breathe again. “You look beautiful.”

“I should hope so,” you said, beaming. “This took forever.”

He smiled and leaned forward.

“Wait til the end there, Romeo,” Rossi chuckled.

“I still can’t believe you agreed to do this,” you whispered to your officiate.

Dave just smiled. “Anything for you, kiddo. You’ve earned all of this.” He put a hand on Spencer’s arm. “You too.”

You wanted to cry again but forced yourself not to so you could get through the beginning of the ceremony. Spencer never took his eyes off of you. It was like no one else was there. No one else in the world.

“The couple has prepared their own vows to each other,” Dave announced to the small crowd. He nodded to you. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Your nerves settled in again. You’d practiced, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier. The things you wanted to say, the things you wanted to tell him, it still didn’t seem like enough. There was still the terrible fear in the back of your brain that all of this would be taken away. You would wake up back on the floor in your mother’s house or in Aaron’s apartment, torn apart by the Reaper.

But fear was part of the deal. The price of letting yourself love was the possibility of losing it. The though alone used to leave you frozen, unable to want anything real in your life. Now, you couldn't think of anything you wanted more.

You just had to figure out a way to say that without making a fool of yourself in front of all these people.

Spencer grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring brush of his thumb against your palm, a loving smile spreading across his lips.

You took a breath and began.

“I determined at a young age that I was going to marry a rock star,” you said, earning a laugh from the crowd. “I wanted the glamorous life of concerts and parties and award shows. I was absolutely certain this was the life I was going to have, so much so, that I forced my mom to get me tickets to a concert in the area. I didn’t even know the band, I just saw my chance to get the lead singer to fall in love with me. Never mind that I was twelve.”

You glanced down at the scar on your chest, left uncovered in your acceptance of it.

“At fifteen, I was convinced I was going to marry a hockey player.” With a deep breath, you let out a half-laugh. “That obviously didn’t go anywhere either.” You swallowed hard, looking at where your fingers intertwined. “My mother taught me that the whole world wanted to hurt me. My experiences in college left me determined to never let someone hurt me again. The only way I could do that was to not want anything from anyone. I focused on my career, I ignored friendships to the point of losing them. Haley asked me once where I saw myself in five years and the one thing that came to mind was ‘alone.’” Your voice caught in your throat to say her name. You heard Aaron inhale sharply. You kept going. “And then, one day, I couldn't reach a book on that shelf.” You pointed to the classic’s section behind Spence. “Luckily, there was a lanky literature nerd in the same aisle who grabbed it down for me. And for some reason, maybe it was Haley’s voice in my head, I asked him to coffee. Of course, after we started dating I found out he actually works with my brother, which was a whole other awkward story.”

This time, Spencer laughed, remembering that first night, sitting at that table in horrible silence.

Aaron remembered two, running a hand down his face.

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” you said, taking both of his hands in yours. “You taught me that being in love isn’t a weakness, but my greatest asset. My sword and my shield through everything.” You blinked back tears, but they fell anyway. “I know now what I want, even if it’s scary. It’s you.” You laid his hand over your scar. A promise. “Spencer, it’s you. A life together, in sickness, health, and everything else we’ve gone through.”

Finally, you wiped at the tears on your cheeks and smiled.

Behind you, Penelope was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Spencer looked over your shoulder at her and nodded.

“You’re turn,” Rossi whispered to him.

Spencer gulped.

“I, um-” He let his hands fall to his sides, fidgeting again. “I don’t actually have anything to say today.”

Everyone froze.

Morgan’s brows drew together.

Spencer wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“Because I already said it.” He looked behind you again. “Garcia?”

“Ready,” Penelope said.

At first, you didn’t understand, as the static started to play over the speakers. But then, the Spencer on the recording cleared his throat- a terrible coughing sound. And you knew.

“Hey Y/N,” he said. He sounded like he was trying not to cry. “I asked Garcia to make recordings for you and my mother just in case I… well, in case I’m not smart enough to find this cure.”

Your hand went to your lips to hold in a gasp.

Spencer never took his eyes off of you. “I know the last few months haven’t been easy. I guess our lives never have been. Not that I’m blaming you for anything. What am I saying? I thought this would be easier.” The recording paused for a long while. Then, “I am not a person who lets myself feel often. I use logic and rules and sense to guide me through life because that’s always been the safest option. If I let my brain take the lead, then maybe my heart will stay safe inside a case like a museum artifact. And you’ve broken through.” He huffed. “No, that doesn’t make sense either. Because it isn’t just my heart. My heart is just an organ. It doesn’t really mean anything. No. All of me is yours. My feet only want to follow you. My arms only want to hold you. My mind won’t let me think of anything else.”

Everyone in the entire bookstore seemed to be holding their breath, listening to every word.

The Spencer from the past continued.

“And I know it might do much good to say all of this now if I don’t make it out.” He coughed again, making you wince. “But I couldn’t die without you knowing how much you’ve changed me. I didn’t know I could love until I met you, Y/N. Not like this, at least. Not with all I am. I love you.” He took a trembling, slightly garbled breath. “I just needed you to know in case, I-” He cut off. “I have to go. Thanks, Garcia.”

The recording cut off.

Even Derek was trying to sneakily wipe tears away.

“Do you-” Dave cleared his throat, pretending like he wasn’t also crying. “Do you have the rings?”

Penelope and Derek stepped forward, each handing you the simple bands. You hadn’t wanted anything extravagant. It wasn’t the ring that mattered.

Spencer’s gentle, long fingers slid your band on and you did the same.

You looked at each other.

“Well, geniuses,” Dave teased. “Go on. Kiss.”

You wrapped his tie around your hand and yanked him down, pulling his lips to yours as his arms enveloped you. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, lips moving against each other, holding each other close.

Derek let out a loud wolf whistle while the rest of the crowd erupted in applause.

You’d almost forgotten they were there.

When you pulled apart, your face was a vibrant pink... and so was your husband’s.

Everyone gathered in Rossi’s backyard, the smooth music lulling conversation to happy drills, string lights twinkling overhead like the stars that took over the sky. The team eagerly awaited the arrival of the new couple.

“Ten bucks they stopped back at their apartment for an early honeymoon,” Morgan whispered to Prentiss.

“I heard that,” Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Aw, is someone having a hard time accepting his baby sister is married?” Prentiss teased, nudging Hotch’s arm.

He tried to keep a stern face, but couldn’t help but laugh. “Remind me to fire all of you on Monday.”

“You’d miss us too much,” JJ chimed.

Rossi checked his watch. “They are running late.”

“Maybe Morgan’s right,” Prentiss whispered, just loud enough for Hotch to hear as well.

Or maybe he was wrong…

You hadn’t made it all the way to your apartment. Hell, you didn’t even make it out of the bookstore. There was a private study room where Spencer had finished getting ready and, well, things escalated from that kiss. Luckily, the owner was really into romance books, so she didn’t mind.

You could still see your name on the certificate. Your new name. You’d thought long and hard about what your decision would be. How you wanted to begin this next chapter.

“Are you ready, Dr. Reid?” You asked, lacing your fingers with his as you walked up the steps of Rossi’s.

Spencer just grinned, eyes glittering in the warm lights. “Lead the way, Dr. Hotchner-Reid.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Did it sound a little ridiculous? Maybe. But for the first time, it felt like you. It felt like you weren’t just a remnant of what happened to you, sharing a name with the woman who’d defined your life for so long. It sounded like a new start.

Dave’s dining room was decorated to the nines in purple and gold balloons, banners, and flowers. A centerpiece on the table combined all of the bouquets from the wedding into one, beautiful, mismatched arrangement. All around it, appetizers were set out, each reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast. You snagged a spinach puff on your way outside.

Derek must have spotted you first, because the second the two of you stepped through the doorway, his voice boomed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I announce for the first time,” he called, “The Dr.s Reid.”

Everyone broke out in applause and you spotted each member of the team standing around the lawn, each beaming brighter than the last. Penelope, of course, had started crying again and she was the first to push through the crowd and throw her arms around both of you.

“I love you both so so much! And I love your love and-” She cried some more and hugged you tighter.

“We love you too, Penelope,” Spencer laughed, kissing the top of her head.

“I love you, but I can’t breathe,” you teased.

She yelped and pulled away quickly, checking not you, but the dress. “Oh good, I didn’t-�� She narrowed her eyes. “Why is it so rumpled on the bottom?”

Spencer cleared his throat, his face turning pink.

“Maybe we should…” He motioned to the rest of the group waiting for you.

You hooked your arm through Penelope’s, keeping one hand holding his. “Come on, you two. I’m starving.”

You hadn’t wanted a head table, opting instead for circular tables throughout the lawn so you could weave in between them to spend time with everyone. The team, of course, sat together, Jack sitting with Aaron. The people from your work were there too, Sonia jumping up to give you a big hug when you went by.

“I’m so happy for you, Y/N,” she said. Sonia had been through so much with you, she’d seen you face your fears in more ways than one-including this.

“Thank you for being here.”

She pulled away, glanced at Spencer, and gave you a wink. “Take all the time you want for the honeymoon.”

“Sonia!” You exclaimed, muffling your laugh behind your hand.

“What?” She shrugged, looking at your husband again. “I would. But he isn’t exactly my type.” She turned back to her girlfriend and they both laughed.

Spencer just looked confused.

Even Dr. Sweets was there. When you first invited him, he gave you the whole spiel about ‘professional distance’ and ‘ethics’, but you reminded him that this was a big part of your recovery and you wouldn’t have gotten there without him. He had to be there to make sure you didn’t run away from the altar.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Dr. Sweets said. He smiled. “But I’m glad I am.”

“The line between personal and professional is kinda blurred in this group, so you fit right in.” You patted him on the shoulder and continued your mingling.

Spencer picked a seat at the table with the team and watched. He watched you smile and laugh and glow. Spence glanced down at his hand, at the band now on his finger. It didn’t feel real yet. He rubbed it with his thumb, spinning it around his finger. Then, he looked back at you and a feeling filled his chest that he didn’t know how to explain. More than joy, more than adoration. More than anything.

He wished his mom could be here, but the flight would have just made her more anxious. You had agreed that the two of you would fly out to Las Vegas to see her. But the letter in his pocket was enough for now. He read it this morning, while he was getting ready.

She said she was proud of him. It wasn’t about his achievements at work or the intellect they both coveted so much. She was proud of him for opening himself up to someone. Proud that he’d finally let the guard down he’d kept up since he was a kid.

Just thinking about it again made his eyes fill with tears all over again.

Dinner was served and you dug in.

God bless David Rossi’s cooking.

The squeal of feedback and the tapping of a mic caught everyone’s attention.

“I know you didn’t think you’d get out of this, too,” Derek’s voice came over the speakers. He came up behind Spencer and rustled his hair. “The two of you got your speeches at the engagement party, but the reception is for the wedding party.”

“Remind me why I made him my best man?” Spencer whispered to you.

Derek messed up his hair again. “Because I throw the best bachelor’s parties.”

“Ours was better!” Emily shouted.

“All talk. They’re all talk.” He made a talking motion with his hands. “And shut up, this is my speech.”

JJ, Emily, and Penelope all mimicked him mockingly.

“Alright, but in all seriousness, I’m here to talk about Spencer and Y/N.” Derek walked around the table to the platform designated for dancing. “I’ve known Reid for a long time now. This kid was a pain in my ass from day one. Smarter than everybody and he knew it. And thank god for that, because I don’t know what this team would do without him.”

His expression quickly changed from teasing to sincere.

“Over these last few years, Spencer Reid has become my little brother. He has my back. And that big brain of his has probably saved my ass more times than I can count.” Derek smiled at you. “And when he met Y/N, I knew he’d met the only person who could keep up with that mind. Y/N became a part of the team. She became family- and I don’t just mean because she’s related to our boss.” He gave you a quick, teasing smirk before his words caught in his throat, fighting back the emotion everyone was feeling. “The two of you have been through a lot. You’ve fought like hell to be here and now you get to enjoy it. So,” he raised his glass. “To Y/N and Spencer. The world isn’t ready for what you’ll accomplish together.”

“Y/N and Spencer,” the crowd cheered.

Derek gave both of you a hug before sitting down again. You thought that would be it. But then Aaron stood up.

Hotch cleared his throat and moved to the platform.

“I’m, um, obviously not Y/N’s maid-of-honor.”

The party snickered.

You watched him, holding your breath.

“But, unfortunately, Y/N couldn’t have her maid-of-honor here today.” He swallowed. “So, Garcia said I should speak in her place. Well, she insisted and it’s difficult to say no when she decides something.” Hotch shot her a look and Garcia grinned back. “I’ll do my best to say what I know Haley would say.” He cleared his throat and, for just a second, you saw his eyes lift up to the stars. Then, he looked back at you. “Y/N came into our lives after hers had been changed forever. And she hated me. For the first few days, she wouldn’t even speak to me. But Haley got through to her. The two of them were inseparable. I’d come home to movie nights with junk food, pillow forts in the living room, baking mishaps. They became sisters first. Eventually, Y/N opened up to being mine.”

Spencer laid a hand on the small of your back, helping you keep it together.

“I’ve had the privilege of knowing Y/N and Spencer closely for a long time. I watched them grow up in different ways. Y/N grew into the accomplished young woman she is today and I watched Dr. Reid establish himself as an agent, not letting his young age define him in the BAU. Seeing them now grow together has been the greatest privilege as both her brother and his supervisor.”

Aaron took a second, needing to steal himself for what he was about to say.

“Haley told me that she used to be worried. She didn’t want Y/N getting involved with someone from the BAU. She, of course, had first-hand experience of how hard it could be and she was worried that it would just drag up all of the things from Y/N’s life that she’d worked so hard to get away from.” He took a shaky breath. “But then she saw them together. I remember, she teared up when she said it, but Haley said ‘I’ve never seen her that happy. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.’” He cleared his throat again, hiding the tears you caught a glimpse of. “I know that Haley would be so happy today. And wherever she is now, I know she’s smiling.” He extended a hand. “Y/N and Spencer.”

The crowd cheered again.

You didn’t wait for him to come back to the table, barreling up to the platform to throw your arms around him.

“I love you, big brother,” you cried.

Aaron held you tight. “I love you.” He let a tear finally fall. “Haley did too.” He looked over your shoulder at your husband. “She loved both of you.”

Once everyone was seated again, Dave took the mic. “Alright, enough of the mushy-gushy stuff. It’s time to dance.” He motioned to Penelope to begin her personally curated playlist. “And I believe the first has been reserved for our newlyweds.”

Spencer went still. “I don’t… I can’t really-”

Rossi cut him off. “Rules are rules, kid. Come on.”

“Don’t worry.” You took his hand, smiling. “I’ll lead.”

Claire De Lune played over the speakers, matching perfectly with the beautiful stars over your head and the bright moon hovering in the sky like a spotlight, shining down on you.

Prentiss leaned over to JJ. “They would pick Debussy for their first dance.”

JJ just beamed, watching the two of you make your way to the dance floor. “I think it suits them.”

“I don’t dance,” Spencer whispered.

“Just hold onto me, Dr. Reid” You draped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He rested his hands on your waist and the two of you swayed, listening to the soft piano waft through the air like a calming breeze. “I can’t believe we did it,” you said quietly.

“That we got past our emotional barriers and fears and actually got married or we didn’t have anyone get shot or kidnapped or infected with a deadly disease on the way here?” He asked.

You laughed and pushed a mousy strand of hair away from his forehead. “All of the above?”

Spencer kissed you slowly, earning a round of cheers from your friends.

“I love you,” he said. “With all that I am.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Even if your new name is a mouthful.”

You playfully hit his chest and the two of you continued the dance.

Spencer pulled you fully into his arms so that you moved to the song in each other’s embrace. The song faded and everyone joined on the dance floor. Looking into the crowd, Spencer froze.

Jason Gideon stood at the edge of the lawn. He met Spencer’s gaze and gave him a nod. A proud smile spread across his face. Gideon laid a hand over his chest.

More people gathered around and when Spencer looked again, Gideon was gone.

“Everything okay?” You asked, looking where he was staring, but seeing nothing but the string lights in the trees.

“Yeah,” Spencer breathed. He kissed you again. “Yeah.”

Eventually, the time came for you to dance with Aaron, finally letting your husband take a break. Penelope picked a Billy Joel song, which made you both smile. Lullaby. So when the first ‘Goodnight My Angel’ played, Aaron took your hand and wrapped an arm around your back, you placing one on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you said. “For your speech. It was perfect.”

“I’d almost forgotten about that conversation,” he admitted. “But then Garcia asked me to speak and it all came back.”

“I wish she could be here.”

His eyes turned sad. “Maybe, in a way, she is.”

“Since when have you been a believer in the ‘great beyond’?”

Aaron just shrugged.

The song was starting to reach its end, the lyrics sinking into you.

Someday we’ll all be gone, but lullabies live on and on.

They never die, that’s how you and I will be.

“Spencer and I are going to start trying for a family,” you said suddenly.

Aaron’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know that was something you wanted.”

“It was for a long time, but I started to believe it was never something I could have. Like I was… corrupted. But Spencer has helped me see that isn’t true.” You sighed, “I don’t even know if I can. The doctors said it’s still possible, but after everything my body has been through-”

“You’re going to be an amazing mother, Y/N.” Aaron pressed his lips to your forehead. “Haley would say the same.”

Your bottom lip trembled through your smile and you nodded.

The music turned to an upbeat tune and the dance floor flooded once again, including Spencer while Derek dragged him back out to you.

“Come on, Pretty Boy, I know you’ve got some moves.”

“I really don’t, Morgan.”

“Come on, Reid,” Emily beamed. “Dancing terribly is part of the fun of weddings.”

“She’s got a point.” You took over from Derek, pulling Spencer into the middle of the dance floor.

The team gathered around you, each with more ridiculous dance moves than the last. Even Dave got in on the fun, doing the best moonwalk you’d seen yet. Your bridesmaids grabbed you for a line dance and Derek danced with you to ‘It’s Raining Men.’ Through all of it, you couldn't stop beaming. Spencer thought you looked even brighter than the moon.

After you were out of breath, you found him again in the crowd.

Surrounded by the people you loved, beneath a blanket of stars, you kissed your husband again, your new story just beginning.

#criminal minds imagines #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #matthew gray gubler #the in betweens

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jokesitos-art · 1 year ago

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Mmmm yeah.

#Ursula #captain hook #disney villains #D1SN37 #crossover #Aabsjsnsksndkd I just wanted to do this after a chat with a friend of mine ajsbkabdkand #crackship #Crack otp #Ursook #5389

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oldbox1310 · 26 days ago

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Tapeten-Mix

#ts4 oldbox #ts4 buy mode #ts4 oldbox simszoo #ts4 build mode #ts4 download oldbox #sims 4 oldbox #ts4 tapeten oldbox #ts4 walls

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 year ago

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Aemond x Reader (AFAB!)

Sweet Nothing (formerly known as games in the libarary part 2!)

Aemond x reader (Tutor/gamer au) Fluffish and also smuttish

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

🔷Author's note: Based on tutor aus but I made my own spin on it.

🔷Wordcount:5389

🔷Warnings: Au universe, smut, depraved thoughts, bullying, (not aemond or mc bullying each other) rich privilege and bad parenting and the word so*p.

NAMECHANGE: A reader left a comment saying they were listening to the song ''Sweet nothing'' by taylor swift and wrote it fitted them really well so I changed the title! I hope you all like the new title:))

There is something aesthetically pleasing about college parties. Especially if they are thrown by one of your best friends, Baela Targaryen. You heard Aemond is her older something, although the Targaryen family tree has the same effect as math on your brain: It turns to soup.

You despise soup.

It is the wettest of foods, the smell, but most, you hate the name. The word appears unnatural to you, as if someone had just thrown it together-

‘’You OK?’’ A gentle yet rough edged voice brings you out of your moral debate about why soup sucks. Aemond Targaryen has followed you loyally around (with your consent, this is not a stalker situation) campus and now you both approach one of the frat houses. The house is as big as a mansion and you sometimes wonder what illegal schemes the boys of the frat house and the university you attend get up to even afford the rent of this bohemian building.

It is odd. Prior to this whole day, you didn’t know Aemond could care about anything but himself, his grades, and his silly little motorcycle (he calls it Vhagar, and it’s a ‘’she’’ apparently. You find that a bit silly, but some things that men are oddly attached to receive that treatment. Like boats) Yet here he is, asking if you are OK.

You want to cheerfully ring out that you never have been better, but realization soon hits you that it's been a while that anyone was truly interested in how you were doing. If anyone cared at all.

‘’That is a complicated question.’’ You admit.

‘’With a complicated answer, I assume?’’ He is too clever for his own good.

You chuckle. ‘’Yeah. I’m doing fine.’’ Why you feel the need to lie to him, you don’t know.

Finally you both approach the gold with blue gatework where the three Valyrian words are chiseled into the framework of the gates. Aemond crosses his arms over his chest, his backpack over half his right shoulder, threatening to fall off any moment now. He clears his throat and reads the words out loud to you. ‘’Dracarys, Dona Daorun.’’ You know some of these words. One, to be exact. ‘’Such a odd motto.’’ He adds.

Even from the garden you can hear the noises of the party, chatting, spattering of water and even loud music as someone likely brought a speaker. Or three, if you know your friends well.

Aemond seems to stiffen at the noise, his blue eyes alarmed and doubt written across his face. Instead of letting him run off, you lace your fingers through his own,and simply drag him inside with you.

‘’Pool parties are my favorite.’’ You tell Aemond with a wink. ‘’I love swimming. I always wanted to be a mermaid when I-’’ You notice his cold and suddenly icy stare at the host of the party, who approaches you in his swimming trunks.

Jacaerys Velyaron simply runs a hand through his brown hair, pushing it back slightly before greeting you as if you two are long lost friends. ‘’Y/n! You made it!’’ He grins, likely already tipsy to say the least. He looks Aemond over and you both look like you’d belong anywhere but a pool party. ‘’And you brought a friend.’’ He adds. You chuckle uncomfortably at his icy tone. As if you brought a wooden horse in and the soldiers have crawled out.

‘’I hope it’s cool?’’ you say, waving enthusiastically at your friends. They don’t wave back, red plastic cups in hands and judgemental stares all over you, but especially over Aemond who is holding his backpack only tighter, regret mirroring in his good eye as he plays with a ring on his fingers.

Luckily Jace seems to agree.

‘’You know me too well.’’ He puts his hand on your back, escorting you quickly away from Aemond. ‘’Baela wants your help, I believe. And Daemon wants to play seven minutes but he has no one who wants to play.’’ You wrinkle your nose. Daemon is a sweet, but very intense guy. He means no harm, he is just a bit too intense for you. Plus, you were certain he and Queen B Rhaenyra were dating. You at least assumed so, after Rhaenyra’s claim was made on Daemon in the form of some pretty aggressive tongue locking.

You feel so glad to see Baela that you forget all about Aemond. ‘’Oh my gosh, Y/N! Finally free of your horror session!’’ She exclaims, perhaps a bit too loud before pushing you into an exeratated and perhaps bone-crushing and soul-vanishing hug. You hug her back, of course, pretending to go alone with her agreeing you enjoy your freedom…

Although you aren’t sure why she thought you were in peril?

And horror sessions?

You think back of the way that Aemond topped you in the library, fucking you just in the right spot at the sweet oak desk-

The only horror of it was the numbers perhaps. The rest of it felt nice. Your eyes wander to some of the guys, mostly jocks and athletes drinking in the corner of the room, gathered around in a circle when placing bets and boasting about their conquest. Aemond didn’t need to be nice, yet he treated you better than most of your ex boyfriends. He maybe wanted to be inside you all the same, but he bothered to offer lunch after, and when you talked, he listened. He paid attention. Your exes mostly were lost in the front of your shirt, or tried to shut you up with kisses. You thought it was affection. Now it sickenings you to think of it.

And just like that, your usual jock conversations don’t do the thing for you anymore. A tall jock named Laenor jokes with you about how a girl had a stutter when asking him out and all you think about is how Laenor and your friends would react if they would find out you are far from perfect.

That numbers cause wars in your head, that math frightens you, that your brain can’t handle puzzles and that it all is sometimes so much to handle, to know your brain works differently, it’s sometimes a lot. It would be nice, if someone would understand. Just once.

You notice Baela has gone missing. So has Jace. Not this again. ‘’I thought we all had agreed that we would not let Baela hook up with Jace again?’’ You scold the other girls. One of them, named Sara just shrugs.

‘’O, we totally agreed that we would, this morning when getting boba. You were missing, so you didn’t notice it.’’ She smiles sweetly but you have played Stardew Valley. You have endured the caves. You know when a skeleton is smiling at you. Fuck, you watched the vampire dairies. You know when someone is out there, for your neck. ‘’When you did your cute little charity project.’’

‘’Aemond is just a friend.’’ You hear yourself say the words before you can control yourself.

Is he? Then why do you feel the sting of that lie? Then why let him fuck you in a library? Then why tell him more about you than any of your friends? Then why invite him?

You think back of Aemond, suddenly all alone by the gates and turn back around, looking for him. The more ground you cover, passing by making out couples and gambling, the more your mind tells you something is wrong.

When you arrive by the pool, you hear Jace and his closest circle of friends laughing, as well as Baela. ‘’You saw the way he looked? I thought he was gonna cry there for a moment.’’ Jace taunts, kissing Baela drunk all over her cheek. Baela giggles and turns to face you.

‘’Y/n. Rhaenyra wants us all to get coffee tomorrow. I know you are currently busy with your charity project but do keep in mind that we must all respect the social hierarchy.’’ You nod absent, more dread filling your stomach as you eye the water, where something or someone clearly came out of or someone was pushed in.

‘’Did you guys see Aemond?’’ You ask, almost ignoring Baela’s suggestion, and Rhaenyra’s clear invention to once again snoop in your life.

‘’Aemond? What do you want with that loser?’’

Daemon finally has enough of Rhaenyra and walks over to you, but Rhaenyra remains watchful as a hawk, her arms crossed and her lips perfect in a scowl. In your circles it's unheard of to steal one’s boyfriend, even if the relationship is broken up. Aside from that, Daemon is hot but also hotheaded and a real pain in the ass when he wants to be.

You lie again. ‘’Nothing. I just have his books.’’ You don’t. He took them all with him. You only have his cum likely inside of you, thank the gods for the pill.

He scales you up and down, and you feel uncomfortable. ‘’Hm. You go do that, little thing. I have something for him.’’ He takes a moment and dramatically picks up something near the pool. You watch in horror as he pulls out a soaked notebook in your eyes proof that they threw Aemond and his books in the pool.

You feel the blood leave your face.

You brought him here.

You did this.

‘’What did you do?’’ You demand, your voice becoming unnaturally sharp and cold.

Daemon is not used to that and turns to Baela who looks shocked that you dare to address Daemon that way, over someone as Aemond. ‘’We threw his backpack in the pool.’’ Daemon says, like it's obvious, gesturing to the pool like you can’t see for yourself. ‘’The little shit had it coming all those years ago. He went after it. It was like watching a little puppy drown.’’ He likely went to grab his bag. Can Aemond even swim?

Jace laughs. ‘’Daemon jumped in and held him under water for a few minutes.’’ You nearly choke on the air you take.

‘’You what?’’ You don’t care that Daemon can beat you up or is the king of the school. That goes too far in your book. Aemond could have died.

Baela grabs your wrists, so she can look into your eyes.

‘’Why do you care? It’s funny. Aemond is a loser.’’ She says, as if she is somehow hypnotizing you into becoming her mindless follower again.

But this time, you win.

‘’That’s…not funny, Baela. That is dangerous and messed up.’’ You pull your hands away, and take off running back to the gates, looking for Aemond. You have made a mistake. But how long ago did you make this? How long were you a silent bully, a witness to a tyrant? How many Aemonds did you ignore?

You finally spot him, his jacket drenched walking down the dark street, his backpack half open and his face wet of either tears or water. You rush over, calling his name. At first he ignores you. The second time, he turns around glaring at you. ‘’I should have known it was too good to be true.’’ He says, finally his voice strangled. ‘’Which of them came up with the little game? I bet it was Baela.’’

‘’What Game?’’ But you already know. He thinks this was all a cruel joke to harm and humiliate him. To break his heart.

He scoffs. ‘’This game. You are pretending to care about me. You fucking me and letting me-’’ He points a finger at you accusingly but does not have the energy left to fight.

You rush after him. ‘’I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and Jace had history. And I didn’t know they would do this to you. Whatever you need replaced, I can-’’

And that is even worse. You are a rich girl, after all.

‘’Don’t bother.’’ He snaps at you. ‘’I want you to leave me alone.’’

You don’t know how to convince him to let you in again. You suppose honesty is the best approach. ‘’I’m sorry. I never should have brought you here. But you always seemed so lonely and-’’

‘’Why do you care?!’’ You are startled by his harsh tone but don’t back down. Instead you fold your hands and blink away tears you didn’t even know you had. Your voice is a soft, sweet whisper.

You know why you care. ‘’Because perhaps I know what it's like to be lonely. Perhaps I liked the guy you are when no one is around. Maybe I wanted to know you a bit better. Not all of us rich kids are malicious assholes like Daemon, you know?’’ He seems to take his armor off at those words, his face softening and avoiding your eyes, a clear sign of regret for yelling at you. You reach out to him, kneeling at his feet.

Aemond blushes in the light of the streetlights, quickly looking around for witnesses and anyone else who might see. ‘’Wow-’’ He nearly shouts in pure surprise, and you grin at where his mind went.

‘’Don’t get excited, mister. I’m just checking the damage.’’ You tell him. ‘’Sir.’’ You add with a cheeky grin. He holds back a soft groan, although you hear it perfectly. You open the backpack, taking his books out for him and putting them on the street, oblivious to your surroundings as you start examining them.

Most of these cost at least 500. And they are all ruined. Aemond mentioned before, he isn’t a ‘’rich little girl’’ like you, and likely does not have the funds to replace these books he needs for his study. You put them back in his backpack, but you and Aemond are not stupid.

You can both tell these books are done for.

And so is Aemond if you don’t fix this mess.

‘’I am so sorry.’’ You tell him. ‘’I had no idea they were capable of this.’’ You were blind. Just as blind as Aemond.

He nods, pretending to be aloof and cool about it, but you can judge by the way his eye is glued to his shoes that he is anything but cool about this. ‘’Nothing that can be done now.’’ You refuse to believe that. There’s gotta be something. Anything.

‘’That is not true.’’ You look at his books. ‘’I’m sure there’s a solution.’’

There has to be.

Certainly.

But Aemond does not want to hear it. Instead he heads toward his dorm. You follow him, lost as a puppy, carrying his backpack for him as he gave up on it. He may have given up on it, but you won’t give up on it yet.

–

Half an hour later, the door of the dorm door opens as you enter it. Aemond is laying on his bed, playing with a sapphire. He looks at you and you are confronted with the hole where his eye used to be. He curses, quickly covering his eye and searches for his eyepatch. You put the new textbooks on the table. Aemond’s mouth drops as he takes in the brand new books. ‘’No.’’ He simply declares. ‘’No, I can’t accept this. This is insane this must cost-’’ You will murder this man.

He smells freshly showered, and judging by his hair he just got a shower, a fresh set of clothes that haven’t felt your skin yet, and a attitude that makes your inner brat go wild. Focus!

You did have to pull some strings but you don’t mind. So what if your stepdick does not give you allowance for two whole weeks? So what if your mother is ‘’beyond disappointed?’’ Like she cares. If she really cared, she’d ditch that awful guy and fly home from her paradise fucking in Dorne.

If she cared, she’d know you had the diagnosis NVLD since you were six and would never even be considered to graduate in a math study like Aemond. She would know, these books are not meant for you. She would, if only she cared. Which she obviously, does not.

You silence Aemond with a gesture. ‘’Nothing. Consider it your payment for being patient with me during our lessons. If you still wish to continue it, of course.’’ You say. ‘’I took care of it. It’s fine.’

‘’Of course it is.’’ It does not matter if you meant well, Aemond sees it as a confirmation that he, as an average earning person, can never not have the same chances as a rich girl like yourself. He could be Einstein reborn and nothing could open the doors that are thrown open for you.

‘’If you feel bad, you take some classes I don’t do. And not all your books were in your bag. You can take the books from those subjects, and we can share during our shared subjects? Unless you think it’s stupid and want nothing to do with me, I’ll vanish from your life like a sock in a washing machine-’’ He simply cups your chin, kissing your forehead. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, fighting your emotions. He waits for you to push away.

You don’t.

So he leans in, kissing your lips.

‘’Thank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’This is like the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me.’’ He says, a bit emotional.

‘’That’s what friends do.’’ You tell him.

His response breaks your heart. ‘’Hm. I never counted myself lucky enough to find that out.’’

You notice the mood changes quickly and becomes sad again. You don’t deal with that very well. If at all. ‘’So, show me around!’’ He chuckles at your eagerness, getting up from the bed, putting the sapphire he was playing with aside on his nightstand.

‘’So, this is where the magic happens.’’ He gestures to his bed, with Pokémon covers on it. He seems to notice that a moment too late and shakes his head at you, blushing brightly. ‘’I- they’re a gift from my brother.’’ He quickly blurts out. ‘’We give each other silly things for the solstice. I gave him a Charmender plushie.’’

‘’I like squirtle.’’ You tell him with a wink. ‘’He’s perhaps a bit rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy.’’

Aemond blushes again, catching on.

‘’He’s pretty great. Do you have a favorite Pokémon?’’

You think, for a moment, and only the yellow little electrician shows up, the one that clings to the main guy in the show (or is it an anime?) who goes ‘’Pika! Pika, pika!’’ and shoots lightning out of his butt. Or tail.

That is not very impressive to you, to pick Pickahu. It’s a cliche. Aemond likely will want to hear another Pokémon. A clever one, a cute Pokémon that befits your personality and your whole life.

You think back to when you were alone for your 7th birthday party. The chefs at your home had put on pancakes and you had more toys and gifts than you could count. But your mother wasn’t there. Again, gone with the Stepdick. But you know who was there? Pikachu. It was all you could rely on. Pikachu would always be there.

‘’I can only think of the main one. Sorry.’’ you confess. ‘’Pikachu.’’

He looks you up and down, as if picturing you…perhaps as a Pokémon?

‘’Don’t be. I think it fits you very well. Pickachu is a little happy fella with a big heart. That suits you perfectly, actually.’’ He tells you, smiling still like an idiot. You bet you have the same smile.

You notice his room is clean of clothing. By the desk stands a small tv, with a clear Nintendo switch docked in. You cautiously walk over, eying the switch without touching it. ‘’Yep. That is my pride and joy.’’ Aemond confirms, following you like a shadow.

You notice a big purple controller on the desk. When you accidentally bump against the desk, the controller lights up, showing you beautiful neon lights in rainbow colors. ‘’Wow. Cool controller.’’ You gently pick it up. You feel a thick almost rubber coating on the controls, and despite your hands being much smaller than Aemond’s, the controller fits perfectly.

‘’Feels funny…’’

Aemond does not say much, but you know he wants you to put it back. So you do. ‘’Uhm, yeah.’’ He comments, blushing. ‘’Uhm, purple was all there was left.’’

‘’O. I saw they have cool Zelda ones.’’ You tell him.

He looks away. ‘’They’re..expensive.’’

‘’O, right. Sorry.’’ You continue your tour. Aemond turns his controller off, and you notice some walls are there that weren’t there before. You notice a small box with a figurine sitting on a shelf by his bed, you didn’t notice before somehow. Likely too busy staring at Aemond’s wet silky hair, and his deep sad eye….

‘’Oh my gosh,’’ you mutter delightedly. ‘’You have Funko!’’ It is true. There are at least ten boxes with famous characters sitting on his shelf. You walk over, inspecting them closer, but without touching them.

Aemond rubs his neck, a bit blushing. ‘’You dig?’’

You nod, enthusiastically. ‘’Absolutely. My stepfather and I don't agree on a lot of things, But we agree that Funko’s are worth investing in. And just look how cute they are!’’ You notice a funko of GhostFace, the killer of scream, a funko of Squirtle (of course) and likely more of fantasy books and series you never truly got into.

Aemond laughs, relieved. ‘’I’m glad you like them. I sometimes worry people might find them stupid.’’ You stop glancing at his Funkos, looking back at him.

‘’I would never find anything stupid. I know too well how hurtful it is when people think you are stupid.’’ You say. Aemond nods at your words, agreeing. He is busy with rubbing his neck muscles, a pained expression almost printed on his face.

‘’Aemond, are you OK?’’ You move a bit closer to where he is sitting on the bed.

He nods, rubbing his neck still. ‘’It’s just my muscles. So annoying.’’

You look around for a pillow, picking one up from the ground.

You put it on the bed for him. ‘’I like your dorm. It is calm here. I live in a sorority. Sometimes I can barely think.’’ You admit to him.

Aemond pushes the pillow behind his back, nodding to you as if to say that you can continue your rant. ‘’You know your secret is safe with me?’’ He asks, confirming your gut. ‘’I made the mistake of telling Daemon something, and he turned it against me. I will keep it a secret.’’ He promises.

‘’What happened at the pool?’’ You ask eventually.

Aemond recalls it all too well. ‘’Well, Jace came over. He told me to get the fuck out, that you were tongue deep wrapped around a guy’s cock? Laenor or something?’’ He looks at you, giving you the chance to deny it.

You open your mind.

Aemond interrupts however. ‘’However, I know Laenor is gay. He once paid me to do an essay for him for History and he had company over when I was handing it in.’’ You don’t notice any scoffing or mocking or ill jokes.

‘’Aemond Targaryen, did you help someone cheat?’’ You tease, grinning. You like that he has a darker hidden side. He only raises his brows, slightly blushing and avoiding your eyes, biting on his under lip. Gods, that’s so hot.

He nods. ‘’It was justified. I needed money to buy a controller.’’ And controllers are expensive.

He picks the story back up where he left it. ‘’Daemon came over, told me that playtime was over. I tried to walk away, I did. He and his friends cornered me and Daemon threw me in the pool, bag and all.’’ Playtime is over? What does that mean?

‘’I tried to get out, but Daemon was faster. He grabbed me by the skull and kept my head down underwater. I am not a good swimmer. I tried kicking, resurfacing and even biting him, but he was stronger. I really thought he’d kill me.’’ You listen, imagining Aemond dead at the bottom of a pool. You don’t like that idea.

Aemond sighs, covering his face with both his hands. ‘’Oh, now I need to tell you, don’t I?’’ He sighs. ‘’The truth is: The controller is not expensive. I needed to get this one, because it has ergonomic grips.’’ So that is what you felt. ‘’I need special controllers. I have special pencils too. Just stabilos but, still.’’

It clicks.

‘’You have something with your muscles, don’t you?’’ You recall the way he wrote down the sums in your notebook, his handwriting beautiful but the way he held onto that pencil…

Aemond nods. ‘’Yeah. I’ve got Hypermobility, basically. It moves my joints much further-’’ To prove his point, he moves his thumb, now bent in an unnatural position. At first you are shocked by the ease and how quick he could do that. Then, you become curious.

‘’So, is that why you can’t swim?’’

‘’Ouch.’’ Yet he keeps smiling, likely happy to tell someone, anyone about this. ‘’No, I can swim. Just not that long, and not that fast. My muscles tire faster than usual but if I just exercise regularly, it should not be an issue.’’ He wrinkles his nose, grinning as if telling you what he thinks of that. ‘’I should swim more, but I haven't had the chance yet with classes and stuff.’’

You sit there in silence. There have been countless days you cried because you always assumed you were the only one at college who had these things. Things like your math-soup. Yet here is someone else, who too, is struggling in their own way. In a way it is disgusting to think about it, but it makes you feel less alone. It makes you feel something you haven’t felt ever before. It makes you feel ….

Good enough.

Capable.

Hopeful for the future.

Aemond switches his thumb back in its regular position, and you wonder if the long fingers are part of the condition he has. It likely is, as Aemond’s fingers are really tall. ‘’Now you know something about me too.’’ Aemond says. ‘’Although, I would appreciate you keeping this a secret.’’ He adds. ‘’I don’t want pity or special treatment. I’m sure you can relate to that.’’ Yeah, you do.

‘’Or worse, people telling me what I can and can’t do. Just because I have a condition, a disability, so to speak, does not mean that I’m helpless or something.’’ He rambles on. You nod.

You see the final shelf above the closet of Aemond’s room. You take note of a few plushies, mostly squirtle but another one takes your interest. It is a adorable devil like creature with big ears and a wooden stick in its hand.

‘’Who’s that?’’ You ask him, pointing to the red little fella. Aemond follows your finger, looking at the plush. He breaks into a grin, quickly rushing over to the plush, picking it up so you may see it up close.

‘’That’s from Zelda.’’ He begins to tell, excited to share this with you.

‘’That’s Link?’’

He looks a little different than on the box art you’ve seen. Link is usually a humanoid guy with blonde hair. Not a red devil creature with a smile so big you’d assume it learned when the world will end.

‘’No, that’s a Bokoblin’’ Aemond gently corrects you. ‘’He’s like the goomba of the game. They attack Link.’’ Aemond rambles off to tell you about Zelda, where you would encounter the creatures, and how they prefer meat, but accept fruit as well, almost as humans. He also shows you different patterns of bokoblins, and depending on the color, the level of difficulty to defeat them changes.

‘’So what do you do once you got them all beaten?’’ You ask.

He breaks into a grin. ‘’Oh, that’s the wonderful thing about this game. Once in a few days, there is a Blood Moon. All enemies you killed respawn. The bad guy resurrects them. The souls find their bodies, once more.’’ He shows you a video he made on his switch.

From the very first time you saw that moon rise up on where Aemond’s Link was standing, slowly covering the world in the red, threatening life and hearing the tense music play, and just Aemond being next to you on his bed, unaware of you holding his hand, you were done for. The bokoblin looks at you from where Aemond put him on the desk. A temporary spot, you are certain.

‘’Hey, uhm Aemond?’’ You ask, breaking his concentration as he searches for more videos to show you. He looks up, and you are confronted once again with his elf-like face.

‘’Remember when you said that I would like Zelda?’’ You ask.

He nods. You nod to his switch. You are nervous but shoot your shot.

‘’If you want, can we perhaps play it? If you are near me, I can ask whatever questions I’ve got without feeling stupid.’’ Aemond perks up at that, nearly causing his head to bump at your own.

‘’No one knows everything on their first play through. You are not stupid. This game came out in 2017, I picked it up years later for my birthday, and I still discover stuff years later.’’ He says. You nod, still awaiting his no or yes.

‘’Of course, I want to play Zelda with you.’’

Aemond and you nestle up on the bed, forgetting all about the world outside his dorm. He takes the controller from the desk, handing it to you. He creates a special profile on his switch for you, although you protest at first. He has however 3 empty slots so he claims he does not mind. After your profile has been made, he opens Zelda for you. Then he just watches you, plays, discovers and lives.

—

You run around as Link in circles, not bothering to put the clothes on that you found earlier. You notice beautiful mushrooms near the cave, so you pick them. Aemond watches you play, an amused smile on his lips as you discover the truly wild and boundless experience of this game.

You notice an old man sitting near a fire. ‘’Talk to him. He is important.’’ Aemond says, without spoiling too much. You have Link run over, still wearing just his underwear. In enthusiasm, you double click, but by doing so, you steal a cooked apple in front of the man, likely the owner.

‘’Hey, that’s my apple! This won’t stand!’’ The man says.

’Oh fuck, will he hate me now?’’ You ask Aemond. Aemond laughs, but not at you. He just seems to enjoy being with you.

He shakes his head and moves a little closer to you. ‘’Nah. He can’t hate you. You’re kinda perfect.’’ You blush as he moves a little closer, kissing your cheeks.

—-

Soon after that encounter you finally see a bokoblin wander around. Well, it kind of came jumping out of a bush and tried to kill you, but you do not mind.

You rush at them. ‘’Hug time!’’ You declare. In your hand is a stick. You don’t expect to actually hug the creature, but to hit them. That is actually a lot more difficult than it appears, as the creature jumps out of the way, attacking you back.

Eventually you are defeated and turn to Aemond for help, who gives you a few tips.

Together you slay the monster.

And take his horns, for some reason.

—----

It is late now, almost one in the morning. It is sunday today and thank the gods for it.

You and Aemond are still up, bottles of soda and pringle cans opened up around you, as your eyes are glued to the screen. You and Aemond have just met Impa, and you are tired, but you can’t seem to stop playing. A yiga clan member ambushes you, and despite your pathetic little squeak of surprise, you manage to defeat it. Alone.

Eventually you fall asleep, in Aemond’s room, his body close to yours. The controller remains on the bed, between an empty bowl of pringles and Aemond’s bokoblin plushie. You hear Aemond’s gentle snore and just close your eyes and welcome the sound of nothing.

Just Sweet nothing.

84 notes · View notes

honeydixonn · 2 months ago

Text

die together, hae-jo | mr plankton

six, uncasual sleepover

5389 words

The road stretched endlessly before them, the soft hum of the Jeep filling the quiet space between them. Seorin had long since succumbed to sleep, exhaustion wrapping her in its grasp as the gentle rocking of the car lulled her into unconsciousness. The last light of day melted into the horizon, casting a golden glow over the rolling hills before fading into the deep hues of twilight.

Hae-Jo kept one hand firm on the wheel, but his attention flickered to her every few minutes. The first time her head hit the window, he had ignored it, thinking she'd adjust. But then it happened again. And again.

At the third thud, he winced.

How does she sleep through that?

With a quiet chuckle, he reached over and gently cradled her face, guiding her head toward him. She nuzzled unconsciously into his shoulder, her breath warm against his shirt. His hand lingered at her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing over her soft skin before coming to rest there, holding her in place.

His heart clenched painfully.

She still pouted in her sleep, her lips jutted out just slightly, as if she were displeased even in her dreams. He had always found it ridiculously cute. Even back then, he used to tease her about it, whispering little jokes just to watch her frown deeper.

God, I'll miss this.

His grip on the wheel tightened as his throat grew dry, an ache pressing at the back of his eyes. A painful lump settled in his throat, but he swallowed it down, unwilling to let it win.

She had no idea how much he had wanted this—how badly he wished he could just rewind time, undo every mistake, take back every stupid thing he had ever said to her.

He wanted to be selfish.

He wanted to tell her the truth, to confess that he had lied that day in the park—that he never stopped loving her, that every moment without her felt like he was walking toward his grave faster than his condition already promised.

But he couldn't do that to her.

Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of lavender that still clung to her hair. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, disappearing into the strands.

"I'm so sorry, Ae-in," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the wind rushing past them.

She shifted slightly, her brows knitting together for a second before relaxing back into her usual pout.

A sad smile tugged at his lips.

"I do love you," he murmured, his voice breaking just slightly.

He quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand before returning both to the wheel, eyes fixed on the winding road ahead.

Truth be told, he wanted to pull over right there and let himself break. But he couldn't.

He wouldn't let his last moments with her be heavy with sorrow.

The neon glow of a wooden sign illuminated the road ahead, growing clearer as the Jeep approached:

30 Year Tradition: Sundae Soup of Fortune

Hae-Jo pulled into an empty parking spot just as the GPS confirmed their arrival. The faint aroma of broth and spice hung in the night air, but his focus remained on the woman sleeping peacefully beside him.

He sighed, his shoulder aching from holding her in the same position for so long. Carefully, he withdrew his arm, rubbing the stiffness away before turning toward her fully.

She looked so peaceful.

For once, he hesitated to wake her.

He always ruined her peace, one way or another.

Sighing, he reached out, cupping her face gently in his hands. His thumbs brushed delicate circles against her skin, memorizing the warmth, the softness—the way her lashes fluttered slightly at his touch.

"Ae-in," he murmured.

She scrunched her nose, her lips pressing together in faint protest.

His grin deepened. "I know, but you're hungry, right?"

Her lashes lifted, her sleep-laden eyes peeking up at him.

His heart lurched.

She looked vulnerable like this—unguarded, drowsy, the walls she had built around herself momentarily lowered. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, to have her wake up next to him every day like they used to, curled into his side, mumbling half-awake complaints that he always found adorable.

But that was wishful thinking.

She blinked at him once before groaning. "I want food."

Hae-Jo laughed, the sound genuine as he pulled away. He stepped out of the Jeep, walking to her side before she could even reach for the handle. With a quick, practiced motion, he pulled the door open and extended a hand.

"M'Lady."

She rolled her eyes but took his hand anyway as he helped her down.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

He shrugged as he closed the Jeep door behind her, his smirk widening. "Because you're a princess."

The teasing remark made her pause, her expression faltering slightly.

She wasn't sure why, but something in his tone felt... different.

The warmth of the restaurant wrapped around them as they stepped inside, a stark contrast to the cool evening air. The rich scent of simmering broth and spices lingered, settling deep in Seorin's chest. It was the kind of place that felt untouched by time, with wooden tables polished from years of use and old framed photographs lining the walls.

She rubbed her arms absentmindedly, shifting on her feet as she took in the cozy atmosphere. The feeling of stepping into a place like this—quiet, familiar, and far too intimate—made something uneasy stir in her stomach.

Hae-Jo, of course, walked in beside her like he belonged there, his presence filling every empty space effortlessly. He moved ahead, scanning the restaurant with a smirk, hands tucked lazily in his pockets. But she noticed how he kept glancing at her, like he wanted to make sure she was still beside him.

Before she could say anything, an older man behind the counter looked up and let out a sigh.

"Oh no, I wish you had gotten here a little sooner," he said regretfully, adjusting his glasses.

Seorin and Hae-Jo both turned toward him.

"I'm sorry, our kitchen's closed," the man continued, shaking his head. "At Sundae Soup of Fortune, our last order is at 9:30 p.m. You're a little late."

Hae-Jo let out an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head back like the world had personally conspired against him. "Unbelievable."

Seorin barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Always so dramatic.

But before she could respond—before she could even think—Hae-Jo moved.

His arm slid around her waist in one smooth motion, pulling her into his side with the kind of familiarity that made her body react before her mind could process it.

Seorin stiffened.

His palm pressed against the curve of her hip, warm and steady. His touch wasn't rushed or hesitant—it was practiced, like muscle memory. Like he had never stopped holding her like this.

And then, before she could push him away, before she could question him—

"I drove six hours here," Hae-Jo began smoothly, his voice effortlessly persuasive, "because my pregnant wife was craving your famous sundae soup."

Seorin's heart stopped.

Her mind blanked, every thought crashing into itself in a tangled mess of panic.

What?

How did he—?

No. He couldn't know.

She forced herself to think rationally, to breathe. Hae-Jo was impulsive, reckless, and sharp-tongued, but he was terrible at keeping secrets. If he had figured it out, he wouldn't have been able to stay quiet about it.

Which meant...

He was lying.

Her breath left her in a slow, silent exhale. But just as relief started to settle in, the old man gasped.

"Oh my, congratulations!" His eyes dropped immediately to her stomach, a delighted smile spreading across his face.

Hae-Jo's hand on her waist didn't move, his grip firm yet gentle. His thumb brushed absently against the exposed skin of her lower back.

Seorin nearly jumped at the touch.

"Can you help us out?" Hae-Jo asked, his voice laced with just enough sincerity to be convincing.

The man hesitated before sighing in defeat. "Are you being serious? Six whole hours?"

Hae-Jo nodded, his smirk deepening. "Would I lie about my wife's cravings?"

Seorin clenched her fists. I hate him. I really, truly hate him.

The older man chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Let me check if we have any soup left. Have a seat, I'll be right back."

Seorin bowed slightly in thanks, though her face burned with frustration.

As soon as the man disappeared, she turned to Hae-Jo, her voice sharp.

"Pregnant?" she hissed.

Hae-Jo smirked down at her, finally pulling his arm away. "It was the best excuse I could think of."

Her jaw clenched. "And wife? Why did you say we were married?"

He didn't answer right away.

Instead, he moved away from her and strode toward an empty table.

She followed instinctively, still fuming, but then—just as he always had—Hae-Jo reached out and pulled out a chair for her.

Her breath caught.

For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed, like this was just another night between them. Like he would sit beside her the way he always had, their knees brushing under the table, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her thigh as he talked about something ridiculous.

But then—

Instead of taking the seat beside her, Hae-Jo walked around the table.

And he sat across from her.

Seorin faltered, something twisting deep in her chest.

The empty space beside her felt unnatural.

Wrong.

She hated how much she noticed it.

She wasn't supposed to care where he sat.

She wasn't supposed to feel the absence of his presence next to her.

But she did.

Hae-Jo leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs as if he hadn't just thrown her entire world off balance. His gaze flickered to hers, and for a second—just a second—there was something wistful in his eyes.

"You were supposed to be," he finally murmured.

The words were soft, yet heavy.

Seorin swallowed hard. She glanced away, her arms folding tightly across her chest. "Not my fault."

Hae-Jo exhaled slowly, his fingers curling against the edge of the table. He looked down, his voice quieter than before.

"I know."

She almost didn't hear it.

Or maybe she did, but pretended not to.

And as the warmth of the restaurant wrapped around them, they sat in silence—two people who had once been everything to each other, now sitting across from one another.

So much distance packed into a single wooden table.

So much left unsaid between them.

So much that could have been.

Hae-Jo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as if the weight of the day was nothing but an inconvenience to him. His casual demeanor was effortless, but Seorin wasn't fooled. She had spent too many years learning the language of his body, the way he masked his real thoughts behind that smirk, the way he deflected with humor when something unsettled him.

"We'll have to hang around here until maybe tomorrow afternoon," he said, rolling his shoulders, eyes flicking away from hers.

Seorin frowned, setting her spoon down against the cloth napkin. "Why? I thought you had places to be."

He clicked his tongue, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he subtly nodded toward the kitchen. "Candidate number one."

His confidence was as cocky as ever, but there was something behind his eyes—something restrained, something uncertain.

"Oh."

She watched him carefully, studying the way his fingers tapped against the wooden table in an uneven rhythm. He was trying too hard to seem nonchalant, but there was an energy in him that betrayed the act.

Without thinking, she brought her hand to her mouth, biting at the tip of her nail absentmindedly. It was a nervous habit, one she had never managed to break.

Before she could react, warmth encased her hand.

Hae-Jo's fingers wrapped around hers, pulling it away from her lips.

"Bad habit, Ae-in," he murmured, his voice low, almost affectionate.

Her cheeks flushed, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face. She quickly tucked her hands beneath the table, pressing them against the fabric of her dress.

She had forgotten how easily he could reach for her, how natural it was for him to touch her without hesitation. The way he did it now—so casually, so familiarly—made her stomach twist.

"Sorry," she mumbled, looking away.

Hae-Jo watched her for a beat longer than necessary before shifting back in his seat, pretending to be absorbed by the sounds coming from the kitchen.

A moment later, the old man reappeared, pushing a cart with two steaming bowls.

"Here we are!" the man announced, his voice warm and welcoming. "Lots of extra liver and intestines, just how you like it."

Seorin's face lit up at the sight of the food, her hunger growing unbearable. "Aw, you didn't have to do that."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she glanced toward Hae-Jo and immediately froze.

She remembered too late.

"Ah, right—he's not a fan of blood sausages and liver," she blurted, her hand flying to cover her mouth. "He always said the smell bothered him."

The words had come too naturally, slipping from her like a reflex, like they were still together.

She felt the air shift.

Hae-Jo paused, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second before he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah... I wish you had told me that sooner."

Seorin turned quickly toward the man, trying to shake off the awkward moment. "No, it's okay. I'm sure he'll be fine. Thank you so much, I'm sure it'll be plenty for the baby if he won't eat it."

The old man chuckled, shaking his head. "You're so tiny, though! How many months are you?"

Her hand instinctively drifted to her stomach, a small, automatic motion she didn't even realize she was doing.

Just as she was about to answer—

"She should be three or four."

Her breath caught in her throat.

Her eyes widened slightly as she turned to look at him, her fingers gripping the fabric of her dress.

Did he know?

No. He was guessing. He had to be.

She studied his face, searching for any sign of realization, but Hae-Jo's smirk remained perfectly in place. If anything, he looked amused.

The old man clapped his hands together. "Ah, congratulations to you two! Such a beautiful couple." He sighed fondly, glancing toward the kitchen. "My daughter-in-law is due next month, but we can't get her to stop working in that kitchen."

Seorin turned her head and found herself staring at the heavily pregnant woman in the back. The woman wiped down a table, her body moving slower, her exhaustion evident, but she still smiled, listening to the conversations around her.

A strange pang of longing settled deep in Seorin's chest.

Would she make it that far? Would she ever reach that stage?

Would she even have someone beside her when the time came?

She wasn't supposed to doubt.

But the fear clung to her, wrapping around her ribcage like a vice.

"She's such a workaholic," the old man chuckled.

Seorin barely heard him.

But Hae-Jo...

Hae-Jo was looking at the family.

His gaze had softened, the cocky energy he always carried suddenly dimming. His fingers curled slightly against the table, his expression unreadable.

"They all used to live somewhere else until I collapsed and got sick a year ago," the old man continued. "Then they insisted on moving back here. They're such good boys. You can't even imagine."

Hae-Jo's grip on his glass tightened.

For a brief moment, the mask cracked.

"...What happened?" His voice was quieter now, careful. "You were sick?"

The hope in his tone was subtle—so subtle that if Seorin hadn't known him better, she wouldn't have noticed it.

She did.

She always would.

"Oh, just a small stroke. Nothing major. I'm all better now."

The weight of disappointment was instant.

Hae-Jo's body shifted, his shoulders relaxing in forced nonchalance. He leaned back, letting out a breath.

Not him.

Not this time.

He barely had time to let it settle before he quickly covered it up with a smirk. "Oh, your hair."

Seorin's brows knitted together. "What?"

Hae-Jo suddenly leaned forward, plucking a single strand from the old man's head with practiced ease.

"I'll help you," he said smoothly, tucking the hair away.

The old man yelped, rubbing his scalp. "Oh! That hurt."

Hae-Jo waved him off. "Don't worry, I got it."

As the man left, Seorin gave him a look of disbelief. "You took his hair?"

Hae-Jo twirled it between his fingers before slipping it into his pocket. "DNA," he replied simply, pouring himself a shot of soju.

Seorin shook her head as she picked up her chopsticks. Before she could take a bite, his next words nearly made her choke.

"So, why were you crying at the hospital?"

She sputtered, coughing violently.

Hae-Jo leaned in slightly, amusement playing on his lips, but there was something behind it—something too sharp, too focused.

"How did you know I was at the hospital?" she asked, eyes wide.

"I was there," he said smugly. "And I saw you."

Her brows furrowed in concern. "Why were you there?"

"Crashed my motorcycle while on an errand."

"Hae-Jo!" Her voice rose, her eyes scanning him for injuries. "Are you okay? What were you thinking? I told you time and time again to stop riding that thing!"

He smirked, watching her fuss over him. "You still care about me?"

She froze.

Her lips parted, her hands tightening into fists on the table.

Finally, she sighed. "...Yes, I still care about you, idiot."

She slapped his arm. "Stop trying to get yourself killed." Hae-Jo's smirk almost dropped.

If only you knew, Ae-in.

"Okay," he murmured. She sighed, pushing the soup toward him. "Try to eat." He wrinkled his nose. "No thanks."

"Just try, please."

He groaned, picking up his chopsticks. "I'll eat," he said, "if you tell me why you were at the hospital." She rolled her eyes. "I was just doing a checkup and found out I'm anemic."

He paused. "That's why you were crying?"

"Yes!"

Hae-Jo blinked. Then he sighed, placing a hand over hers.

"Okay, okay. Geez."

Keeping his word, he tossed the piece of sausage into his mouth.

Seorin laughed as he grimaced.

And for just a second, everything felt normal again.

Slowly, the two began to eat, though the silence between them grew heavier with each passing minute. Seorin focused on her bowl, occasionally glancing up only to find Hae-Jo picking at his food, his chopsticks carefully avoiding anything he deemed unappetizing. His nose scrunched every time he pushed aside the blood sausage, his lips twitching in faint distaste.

She let out a small huff of amusement. Some things never change.

Despite the warmth of the meal, despite the flickering glow of the restaurant lights, there was an undeniable tension sitting between them. Not the kind of tension they used to share—the playful, teasing kind where his hand would brush against hers just to see if she'd swat him away, where he'd steal bites of her food only to grin when she protested.

No, this was different.

This was heavier.

By the time their bowls were empty, the weight of everything unspoken had wrapped around them like an invisible force. The easy flow of conversation from earlier had faded into something more uncertain, more delicate.

When the kind family returned to clear their dishes, Seorin barely noticed, exhaustion settling into her limbs. The warmth of the meal left her drowsy, and the ache in her shoulders from sitting in the Jeep for hours was beginning to make itself known.

She stretched as she followed Hae-Jo toward the counter, her fingers brushing lightly over the fabric of her dress as she tried to shake the sleepiness from her body.

"With the bottle of soju, your total comes out to 20,000 won," the old man informed them, wiping his hands on a small towel as he stood behind the counter.

Hae-Jo patted his pockets, a frown quickly replacing the smug expression he had worn all evening. His fingers moved faster, checking his back pockets, then the inside of his coat.

His shoulders stiffened.

"Did you leave it at the shop?" Seorin asked, a flicker of worry crossing her features.

Hae-Jo pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Ah, the gas station. I stopped when you were sleeping."

Seorin nibbled on her lower lip, her fingers fidgeting at the hem of her sleeve. She didn't have any cash on her either, and though she was sure they could work something out, the idea of not being able to pay left a sinking feeling in her stomach.

The old man must have noticed, because he let out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head. "You came all the way out here just to eat, so it's on the house. No worries. You should go look for your wallet tomorrow."

Hae-Jo blinked, clearly caught off guard by the generosity. "Are you sure? I don't mind—"

The man waved him off. "I insist. Just think of it as a thank-you for the company tonight."

Seorin let out a relieved breath, bowing deeply. "Thank you so much."

But just as she thought they were about to leave, Hae-Jo suddenly reached out, his fingers lightly touching the man's arm.

"Uh, since you're already being so helpful... could we bother you to let us stay the night?" His tone was easy, smooth, but there was an underlying hesitation beneath it—something subtle, something almost nervous.

Seorin's head snapped toward him.

The old man paused, his eyes flicking between the two of them. His expression was unreadable for a moment, as if he were considering the request, weighing his options. But then, his gaze settled on Seorin—the woman he still believed to be pregnant—and his face softened.

"Why not?" he said with a smile, swinging his arm toward the back of the restaurant. "Follow me."

Seorin let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, the stiffness in her neck suddenly more apparent now that she knew she wouldn't have to sleep sitting up in the Jeep again.

Hae-Jo, satisfied with the response, casually reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as they followed the man outside.

Seorin stiffened.

She could have pulled away. Should have pulled away.

But she didn't.

The small room the man led them to was nestled outside the main restaurant, tucked between an old shed and a narrow alleyway. He unlocked the door, stepping aside to let them in.

It wasn't much.

The space was cluttered along the walls with various storage boxes and odds and ends, but there was a fan, a pile of folded blankets, and a small, old-fashioned TV sitting on a wooden crate. It was simple, cramped, but to Seorin, it was more than enough.

Hae-Jo took a long look around, his eyes scanning the space with a small smirk. "Five-star accommodations," he muttered under his breath.

Seorin elbowed him lightly, shooting him a look before turning back to the man. "This is perfect. Really, thank you so much."

The old man grinned. "It's nothing. Sleep well, you two."

As he walked away, Seorin and Hae-Jo both turned, bowing deeply in thanks before stepping inside, sliding their shoes off and leaving them by the door.

The moment they were alone, the silence stretched between them again.

"You can stay there."

His words halted Seorin mid-step as she reached for the blankets, her fingers pausing against the fabric.

"I'll make the pallets," Hae-Jo added, already lowering himself to his knees, the wooden floor creaking beneath him.

Seorin watched in silence as he worked, his hands smoothing out the makeshift beds with surprising care. The blankets were layered neatly, pillows placed at just the right angle. He left a few inches of space between them—just enough for distance, but not enough to make it feel cold.

He patted the soft material beside him, tilting his head. "Here, lay down."

Seorin hesitated, standing at the doorway with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. But when she finally stepped forward, placing her hand in his, his grip was steady, warm.

She let him guide her down gently, careful that she didn't trip over the folds of her dress. His fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary before he let go, watching as she slipped under the blanket and shifted to get comfortable.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

She turned onto her side, facing him. "Can you turn on the fan, please?"

His gaze followed hers to the small fan across the room, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, he nodded in understanding.

Of course. She always slept with a fan. She liked the white noise, the feeling of cold air against her skin. He had never understood it at first, but after years of falling asleep beside her, he had adjusted. Now, he found himself unable to sleep without it either.

He reached forward, flipping the switch to high. The fan whirred to life, sending a cool breeze rippling through the small room, rustling their blankets.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice almost lost beneath the hum.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then—

"You didn't have to hold my hand," she said suddenly, her voice quiet but firm.

Hae-Jo tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Didn't I?"

She narrowed her eyes. "No."

He let out a low hum, as if considering her words. Then, with a small, easy smirk, he leaned in slightly. "You didn't let go."

Seorin's breath caught in her throat.

Her fingers curled slightly against the blanket, her gaze flickering away. "I wasn't thinking."

Hae-Jo watched her carefully, his smirk still in place, but his eyes...

His eyes told a different story.

For a second—just a second—the cocky facade slipped.

There was something there. Something quiet. Something wistful.

Something longing.

But just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced by a lazy grin as he reached for the TV remote.

"Relax, Ae-in," he teased, turning on the old television. "I won't steal your virtue."

Seorin scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned over, tugging the blanket up around her shoulders.

Hae-Jo, however, didn't move.

He watched as her breath evened out, as the tension in her body slowly faded. He let his gaze linger on her face for a moment longer, watching the way her lips parted slightly as she drifted into thought.

You should have been my wife, he thought.

But he didn't say it.

Instead, he leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly as he turned his gaze to the ceiling.

One week, he reminded himself. That's all I have left with her.

He closed his eyes.

Make it count.

Hae-Jo turned back, only to find her already watching him.

Their eyes locked in the dim moonlight, the silver glow filtering in through the tiny window above them. The light softened her features, casting delicate shadows across her cheekbones, her lips. His stomach twisted at the sight.

"Seorin."

Her name left his lips as barely more than a whisper.

He crawled under his own blankets, mirroring her position. Face to face. Close, but not quite close enough.

"Yeah?" Her voice was soft, hesitant.

Hae-Jo swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He had so many things he wanted to say, so many words that had been bottled up for five months, clawing at his insides.

I'm sorry. I regret everything. I should have never let you go. I want you back. I love you.

But when he opened his mouth, the words lodged in his throat, refusing to come out.

"I—"

He faltered. His fingers curled slightly against the sheets.

Seorin waited, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched, thick and heavy between them.

He exhaled, forcing a small smirk. "Are you comfortable?"

Seorin blinked, almost as if she had expected something else. Then, after a brief pause, she nodded.

The moonlight caught on her skin, highlighting the delicate curve of her nose, the faint part of her lips. She looked so much like the girl he used to fall asleep beside every night—so much like the woman he still loved, even now.

His breath hitched.

For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to pretend. Pretend that nothing had changed. Pretend that they were still together, that this wasn't temporary.

Pretend that she was still his.

But reality crashed down on him the moment he turned away, forcing his back to her.

The hum of the fan filled the silence, mixing with the sound of their breathing. The wooden floor beneath him was hard, the blanket too thin to provide real warmth, but he barely noticed. The weight in his chest was far heavier.

Minutes passed. Neither of them moved.

Then, just as his body began to sink into the lull of exhaustion, his quiet voice broke the silence.

"Don't run away."

Her entire body tensed.

The words were so soft, almost lost in the hum of the fan, but they struck something deep inside of her.

Slowly, he turned back toward her, only to find her already staring at him.

Her eyes searched his face, her brows slightly furrowed, as if she were trying to figure out something she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.

"I won't," she whispered.

She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his. The touch sent a shiver down his spine.

Hae-Jo swallowed hard.

Before he could stop himself, before he could think about it too much, he closed the space between them.

His body hovered over hers, their faces barely an inch apart.

Seorin's breath caught, her eyes widening slightly, but she didn't move away. She didn't push him back.

"Hae-Jo," she breathed.

His gaze roamed her face, memorizing every detail.

She was still so beautiful. Still so familiar. The softness of her cheeks, the curve of her lips, the flutter of her lashes against his skin—he wanted to etch it all into his memory.

Like he was afraid he'd forget.

"Ae-in," he murmured.

His fingers ghosted over her cheek, barely a touch, but enough to send warmth trickling through his fingertips.

His thumb grazed the corner of her lips, feeling the way her breath trembled beneath his touch.

God, he wanted to kiss her.

But he couldn't. Not now.

Instead, he let his forehead fall against hers, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Can I lay with you?" His voice was barely more than a breath.

Seorin didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

His heart stuttered.

Carefully, he shifted, moving to lay behind her. The moment his arm wrapped around her, she folded into him, fitting against him like she always had, as if the past five months had never happened.

His chin rested against the top of her head, her back pressing into his chest. He could feel her heartbeat, steady and soft, echoing against him in the quiet room.

Her scent filled his lungs, something light and floral, mixed with something uniquely hers.

"I'm still mad at you," she whispered.

Hae-Jo let out a breathy laugh, his lips ghosting over her temple.

"I know."

His fingers traced soft circles against the back of her hand, memorizing the way she felt beneath his touch.

"I know..."

His voice trailed off into the silence, the words barely leaving his lips before sleep pulled him under.

The floor was uncomfortable. The blanket was thin.

But at this moment, he wouldn't ask for anything more.

Because for the first time in months—

He didn't feel alone.

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