#I read it last night but I’m stil laughing

[yourmidnightlover]

getting it over with - ch 2

pairing: bucky barnes x virgin fem!reader

summary: waking up after accidentally admitting a bit too much to bucky about your lack of action, you reveal that you remember everything.

warnings: kissing, fingering, cunnilingus, nervous!reader, bucky is very tender and a SMOOTH talker in this one, please let me know if i'm missing anything!

w/c: 2k+

a/n: THE LONG AWAITED!! i've been in such a rut lately and am so sorry if this doesn't meet everyone's expectations. i kinda like how it turned out and think it's definitely how classic 40s bucky barnes would treat a lady. anywho, enjoy reading my lovelies!

CHAPTER 1

waking up in your jamie’s arms made you wish you were still asleep. sure, you had cuddled before on movie nights when you had to share a blanket, but this was different. this meant he had chosen to stay, of his own volition. fate didn’t need to step in for him to cuddle you. or maybe you were reading far too much into it. 

regardless, you relished in this rare moment of closeness you had with bucky. his arm was securely around your waist as your head remained on his chest. you let your chin rest on his chest in favor of looking at the face that was now free of his perpetual frown lines. you let your hands move the stray pieces of his hair from his face before he began stirring. his arm gently tightened around you before his left came to hold you as well, leaving you softly laughing at his cuddly tendencies.

“mornin’, doll,” his raspy voice scratched all the right parts of your heart. “sleep well?”

“slept like a baby,” you replied as you plopped your head back down on his chest, the rise and fall of his chest nealy lulling you back to sleep.

“so…” he trailed off. “do you…”

“i remember, jamie,” you were squeamish. he obviously kindly rejected your offer in an attempt to let you keep your dignity, but you couldn’t lie to him. “i-i’m sorry for all that. i never wanted to make you uncomfortable, and clearly, i did.”

“you didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he assured you as you quickly got out of your bed. “y/n,” he called after you as you threw a sweater over your tank top from last night. he stood to meet you, tenderly holding your shoulders so you would get still. “you didn’t make me uncomfortable. the only thing that made me uncomfortable was the fact that you were drunk when you asked me, doll,” now it was him who played with the strands of your hair that were still wild from sleeping. 

“so, if i were to ask you that now, with a sound and sober mind… what would you say?” you avoided eye contact, opting to play with the frayed ends of your sweater. 

“that depends,” he nudged your chin with a curled finger. “i’m gonna need you to ask me first,” he teased. 

you rolled your eyes, “there’s a reason they call it ‘liquid courage’, jamie. sadly, i haven’t had any today.”

“you already know what i’ll say,” he shrugged casually, as if it weren’t practically humiliating what you were asking of him. the depth of desperation you had reached to ask your best friend who you’d loved for so long to do you this ‘favor’. “you know i’d do anything for you.”

“i want you to want me,” now you couldn’t stop looking in his eyes, captivated by the pretty blues you’ve always loved. 

he chuckled, “don’t you know i always have?” 

looking into his eyes, you wanted to believe his sweet, serene words that were dripping from his lips like honey. god, how you wanted a taste of the sickly sweetness that oozed from his presence near you. the attraction that pulled you towards him like he was stronger than any magnet tony had created was somehow amplified any time he looked at you the way he was. you only hoped the attraction wasn’t one sided. sure, he was telling you he’s always wanted you, but that doesn’t mean he wanted you romantically. maybe he just meant he wanted your body. either way, you would have him any way you could. 

“say it,” he urged you. 

“will you be my first, jamie?” you swallowed and looked away from him, somehow still afraid of his answer.

“only if i can be your only, too,” he grasped your waist, pulling you against his chest. 

finally, you broke your eye contact with the floor in favor of his bright blues as he leaned in to press a searing kiss against your lips. in spite of the anticipation of what you had just asked asked him, the kiss was incredibly tender and unrushed.

your tongues danced in sync as if you had done this a million times before. his hands squeezed your waist more as you gently sucked his bottom lip into your mouth.

“you’re pretty good at this,” you giggled as you grabbed onto his forearms. 

“we haven’t even done anything, yet,” your eyes went wide at the insinutaiton. 

“are we-did you want to… now?” 

“no, of course not,” his thumbs began rubbing on your waist over your sweatshirt. “i’m gonna make your first time special, like you deserve. if you want, there are other things we can do now. again, only if you want to.”

“well-uh-what were you thinking about?” your arms rose to his neck, thrown over his shoulders as his grip tightened on your waist.

he lifted you by the waist, signalling for your legs to wrap around his own so he could usher you back to the bed. he gently laid you down, hovering over you before pressing a searing kiss to your cheek, just as gentle as when he laid you down. 

“i’m gonna eat your pretty little pussy, doll,” he gingerly kissed down your torso, making the long trail to your center. 

“you don’t have to if… if y’know, it makes you uncomfortable? i know guys aren’t really into that sometimes,” you rose to your elbows, observing him as he spread your legs further to make room for him. the way his eyes were fixated on you was as if you were the only woman he’d ever seen. 

“uncomfortable?” he scoffed at the thought. “the only thing that’s making me uncomfortable right now is how many clothes we still have on.”

“that can easily be fixed,” you swiftly tore your shirt from your body, revealing yourself to him. his eyes were immediately drawn to your bare chest. 

“fuck,” he breathed. “‘s like you’re trying to kill me, doll.” keeping his place between your legs, his arms trailed up your torso to massage your tits. “so fucking gorgeous.”

you placed your hands on his wrists, encouraging him to continue. “jamie…” you sighed as your head was thrown back. 

“has anyone ever touched you down here, doll?”

you shook your head

“only me?”

“only you,” you swear his eyes darkened by four shades, swallowing his pretty blues into the abyss of his lust.

he moved from his place between your legs to help you remove your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, quickly getting right back to business as soon as he was able to. once he was settled back between your plush thighs, you felt his hands gripping them tightly. 

“such a pretty pussy you’ve got here, baby,” his face was so close to your center you could feel his breath against your skin with every word he said. “can’t believe you’ve kept it from me for so long.” he littered your thighs with kiss after kiss, each time getting closer to your center. 

“please, jamie?” your hands made their way to his hair, gently grasping his hair and tugging to emphasize your need to him.

“please what, doll?” he mocked coyly.

“you know what,” your hips began to rise from the bed, searching for some relief.

“nuh uh,” he moved his head further from where he was, “i wanna hear you say it for me.”

“i-can you-i want you to eat me out please?” you rushed out and squeezed your eyes shut, not being able to see bucky as he finally connected his lips with your center. “o-oh my GOD!” his tongue traced your clit lightly, barely giving you much stimulation but even that was enough to make your legs begin to quivver. 

while his tongue tracing your clit felt absolutely amazing, nothing prepared you for feeling his tongue tracing along your soaking slit before delicately prodding inside of you. 

“holy shit, jamie,” his tongue trailed back to your clit before you felt his finger slowly enter your pussy. your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him even closer to your center. 

he was so passionate about pleasing you, humming into your skin as he felt you tighten around his finger the deeper he went. 

he made sure to wait for you to relax, welcoming the pleasure rather than being surprised by it, before beginning to slowly thrust the single digit in and out of your center.

you tossed your head back against the pillows at the feeling of his long fingers reaching parts of you that you could never reach yourself. 

“fuck!” his finger found the perfect spot inside of you, curling to massage it gently and bring you closer to the edge. you could hear the squelching of your pussy in rhythm with his thrusts in and out of you, and somehow you had no idea that you could be so wet and messy.

you felt him moan against you even more as he brought his metal hand up your torso and begin to squeeze your tits, pinching and pulling your nipple before switching to the neglected breast, simultaniously adding a second finger inside of you. 

he wanted to thank whatever gods existed for allowing him to be in between the safe haven of your thighs in this very moment. the soft plushness of your thighs that cradled his head as your fingers continued to tighten around his locks with every move his tongue made against your clit proved that heaven was real.

it took everything in him to stop jumping the bed like a horny teenage boy, because he knew he would’ve blown a load with how pretty your moans sounded, in spite of your thighs encasing his ears.

“ja-jamie,” you cried to him. “i’m so-so close, please don’t stop! please don’t stop!” you back began to arch off the bed as his ministrations continued, his fingers pounding into your pussy as his lips continued to suck eagerly at your clit. “oh my FUCK, JAMES, YES!” you cried as your hips continued to grind into his face, riding out your orgasm as he refused to cease his actions on your body until you couldn’t take any more and were pulling him away. 

he pressed feather-light kissed up your torso, paying special attention to your neck before he met his lips with yours once more. you sighed into his mouth as your arms were lazily thrown over his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. 

“that was amazing, jamie,” you heaved as he rested his forehead against yours. “i had no idea i could… y’know, that hard! it was intense…”

“i just ate you out and you still don’t want to say the words?” you shook your head rapidly as you tucked your face into his neck. “you came, y/n. you can say it out loud.” you felt his smile against your skin. “now i can officially say that you’re the sweetest thing ever.”

“jamie!” you shoved his shoulder lazily.

“you’re so cute when you get all flustered,” he brushed some of your hair from your face to watch you biting back your smile. “let me take you out? on a real date. i wanna give you what all the other nimrods ‘ve been to dumb to do themselves. wanna show you what you deserve to be treated like. will you let me show ya, doll?”

“you really wanna take me out?” you furrowed your brows. “i don’t mean that in like the killing way… not that you’d do that! i know that you’d never hurt me, i just phrased it weird and then i kinda got- y’know what? i’m gonna shut myself up this time before i get too stupid to even say the word ‘yes’. so, yes, i would love to go out with you, jamie.” you looked past bucky to avoid the further embarrassment from your incessant rambling.

he chuckled at your embarrassment in spite of being the most intimate you had ever been with anyone with him, you still got tongue tied when he asked you on a date. adorable, he thought as he got up, rushing to the bathroom to grab a washcloth, getting it damp before returning and wiping the mess from between your thighs.

"thank you," you closed your thighs as he sat beside you in bed once more. he lifted your arms so he could push his long forgotten shirt over your head to cover you up.

"any time," he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "how does next friday sound for you, doll?"

tags:

@sebas-ass

@nyctophilic0vitnir

@cjand10

@stinkerbelle007

@wilsons-striped-ties

@vicmc624

@ladyfreakingda

@kandis-mom

@charmedbysarge

@raelorns21

@hhiggs

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1989 Once again I’m on the plane and headed home. I can’t wait to see Andy, and I sure miss my music. The only thing that pisses me off is that I’ve got a lousy cold like I knew I’d be getting sooner or later. I just didn’t think I’d get it before going home. I got it the day after my b-day.

Ma gave me lots of clothes and jewelry for Chanukah.

I sang for Dad several times and he says he can definitely picture me on records and tapes someday and he’s got the feeling now stronger than ever that it is my destiny and was meant to be and will happen.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1989 Well, I’m 24 today and I still feel as young and as fit as a really young kid still filled with energy to run around all day and be hyper and obnoxious at times but in a fun way.

I still can breathe so much better here, except it’s still a little rough of course in the mornings and late at night when I’m tired. I feel no loneliness or boredom or anxiety here, but Mom still can be the usual nag she always was.

I was at Ma’s store today helping her out and she gave me a one-piece bathing suit that is pretty, but I’d rather wear a two-piece, so I tan my stomach and don’t look like an Oreo cookie.

Ma’s being a total bitch right now. I could swear she just told Charlotte I looked like a slut on the phone in her bedroom.

Earlier Dad and I fished from the dock and I was able to get a little sun but it’s chilly now.

Dad’s out cooking steaks on the grill.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 3, 1989 Today we went to a flea market and I bought a gorgeous bikini that I saw in a catalog for over $40 and it was only $15. It’s almost like a leopard kind of print and it’s a French cut which means it’s high-waisted and makes you look like you’ve got longer legs. It’s cut just perfectly with the perfect fit.

I also got some postcards which I’m gonna write and mail tomorrow and one of those huge elastics with lots of cloth on it. The one I got is blue denim.

And last of all, I got a beautiful necklace. A short thick gold chain with a red shiny glass stone in the front.

Andy called today to say he misses me already and that he’s got the next 5 days off cuz Crosby’s been giving him shit again and he and I are going to the labor board for damn sure. He says he’s so lost and bored without me. I wish he and I could live down here. I told him I could never begin to describe how beautiful it is here and that he’d have to see it for himself, but sure enough, it’s quite chilly today and will be till Wednesday cuz I’m here. Am I cursed or what? Tammy called earlier and was laughing her ass off at me cuz of the weather I have to put up with when I want to lie out in the sun and get a tan and go swimming.

I sang several songs for Dad which he enjoyed and he says he can see me as a singer someday for sure and he also has this feeling I’ll be making big bucks someday and that it was meant to be.

I asked Ma if she thinks I’ll ever have kids and she said she didn’t know.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1989 Well, I am now on flight 777 and to hell with Springfield for one solid week! I had no problems taking off, either. I didn’t get nauseous or dizzy but my ear is blocked. Unfortunately, though, it is extremely cloudy. I cannot see any houses or cars or buildings. The captain just said we’re at 35,000 feet up and most of the flight will be over water. Here up above the clouds, it is very fuzzy but down below me it’s all clouds that kind of look like snow. When I look straight down I can see the exact same spot for ages so it looks like the plane is really moving a lot slower than it actually is.

Andy brought me to the airport. It was very easy at the counter and boarding. It’s just as simple as taking the bus.

I just read a letter he wrote me that he ordered me not to read till after takeoff. It had a lot of our funny lines and sayings in it. I’m gonna miss him, and I know he’s gonna go nuts and be bored out of his mind without me so he’ll probably leave funny messages on my machine.

Later…

We’re still at 35,000 feet. It’s amazing how smooth this flight is. Last time I could barely write.

I just polished my nails which I didn’t get to do cuz I was up since yesterday at 5pm and fell asleep this morning at 7:00. I didn’t get up till 10:50 when Andy called for the third time. Thank fucking God I heard the phone that time.

I’ll probably polish my toenails when I get there and iron this skirt of mine that’s pretty wrinkled. I did all my dishes except for one which I just rinsed out and a few pieces of silverware. I also never changed my bed. I did vacuum, clean the bathroom, bring out my garbage and do most of the important laundry.

Now the question is, what did I forget? Well, if I forgot anything I’ll figure out just what it is when I get to Florida.

The captain says we won’t be arriving in West Palm Beach till around 4pm. Luckily I have a direct flight this time. The captain says it’s 79º, but I still can’t see anything but clouds.

The stewardesses served soda, coffee and peanuts practically right away. Now they’re serving lunch.

The plane’s getting a little bumpy now. We were over Virginia Beach about 10 minutes ago.

I’m so happy. I really need this vacation and I really think this time I’ll enjoy it and my parents. I can’t wait to see them.

I just received lunch a short while ago and it was gross but airplane food sucks anyhow just like hospital food. I just ate a little rice and carrot cake.

At Bradley, before boarding, Andy bought me lunch just like he bought me dinner at Denny’s two nights ago after going to Annie’s, a straight bar where he has friends that constantly come into Denny’s. He also gave me a $20 bill so I wouldn’t have to stop at the ATM. I’m gonna really make all this up to him. He tells me I’m gorgeous a lot cuz I’ve really improved my looks, my hair, my clothes, my figure and he says, “You are so beautiful that I can’t believe you’ve never been with a woman.”

Is that why I never get hit on by them? Andy’s gay friend Nancy says I’m cute but too troubled. Gee, thanks! Guess she’d rather the druggies. I deserve someone so much more than 95% of the people in this world, but I’ll be alone forever, so better to just accept it now rather than freak out about it. People look at my bad points and never my good ones. Or they misunderstand me or exaggerate my bad points.

Andy says that the reason why people are afraid to hit on me is cuz I’m so good-looking that people feel intimidated and threatened by my looks, so they can go for the ugly druggies all they want and live happily ever after.

My mom better not give me any hassles over my bathing suits or makeup or my other clothes. She’s got to realize that styles change and different people prefer different styles and that it’s not the clothes you wear, but the person underneath.

Later…

I arrived at the airport at almost 4:00, and I feel so much better in the lungs and nose. The air here is so much cleaner and already it’s easier to breathe and I know I could sing my best right now but my mother, of course, would have a heart attack. I can’t wait to spend some time alone with Dad.

We went out to eat and I got a hamburger, then we went swimming at the pool that has a whirlpool. Tomorrow I want to go to the other pool with the beach behind it, but as usual, cuz I’m here I think it’s gonna be overcast and chilly. From now on I really ought to come down in April or September.

Later…

Believe it or not, I’m still wide awake, but very relaxed. It’s weird sleeping with Mom and Dad a few feet away watching TV. See what living alone for 4 years does to you? When they go to sleep, I’m sure I’ll sleep fine. I did the last time.

I’m so thrilled at how much better I can breathe. Springfield is so fucking polluted. I mean, really and you don’t realize it till you get down here. I give anything to live here. This island is so beautiful and so peaceful. No drugs. No crime. No troublemakers and typical males. It sure would be hard to meet other gay women in this area but I’d give my fucking life to live here. There’s no way I could, though. Ma would never ever consider it and I could never do it on my own. Of course, not till I get famous, and what about Andy? It’s just so easy to breathe, though. Could have a tan and wear bathing suits and tank tops and shorts year-round. No heavy coats. No gloves. No hats. No boots. I could breathe, but it’ll do me no good to even dream about it. See, I know medication isn’t the answer. I need to be in a beautiful place like this with the beaches. Then I’d never think of a lover. I’d do just fine by myself.

[myluciddreamer]

Dreams of the Death of the Sun

I’ve had dreams of the end of the world before but none quiet like this…

*****

I stand in the nearly empty office staring out the large windows at the skyline. Everything has been bleached white by the sun long ago, even the colors in the office didn’t last long. Outside, the sun is so bright that it’s near impossible to see anything without some form of sunglasses. This was normal… yet… today was special.

Humanity has conquered so much in its years. We found cures for the impossible, developed technology that you can’t even see, unlocked the secrets of quantum mechanics… yet we still couldn’t stop this. We’ve watched it happen slowly but surely, unable to fight against it year after year. Maybe if we had more time… if we hadn’t wasted so much of our early years in petty squabbles between each other over trivial things like race and religion… maybe then we could have saved ourselves from this calamity. You’d think humanity had more than enough time. Five billion years SHOULD have been more than enough time… yet here we are facing our final days as the sun begins it’s cycle of burning out. The death of a star, up close and personal.

It feels so stupid to come to work today. I didn’t have to but I didn’t have anything better to do. Today’s the day. The day everything will become too hot to bare for those of us who lasted this long. We’ve put off the heat as long as we could but even the nights have cut us no break. My boss, Laurence, walks in, interrupting my thoughts. “They’ll be here soon. Thanks for coming on such short notice. You won’t regret it.”

A voice piped up from across the room. Another coworker who had nothing left for them either, “Who is coming?”

“You’ll see”, Laurence nods before turning his attention towards me, “Come along. I’ll need your help downstairs “. He gestures for me to follow after him. As we ride the elevator down several tens of stories Laurence gives an exhausted sigh, “The company managed to secure some…. medics … for us”. His eyes lock with mine, trying to read if I understand his meaning. I unfortunately am not catching on. “We’re meeting them downstairs. They’ll brief us on what to expect before we guide them up to everyone else”.

“What will they do?” I ask, clearly lost.

He seems to choke on his words as he spits them out, “Help us… find peace. As painlessly as possible”. My heart drops I realize his meaning. They are here to euthanize us with drugs so we don’t suffer through the end.

“Well uh…” I try to find words of encouragement, “… that’s very kind of the company. It sure beats boiling alive in my own skin!” I give a weak laugh. To my surprise he cracks a smile.

“I’ve always loved that about you. You find the good in the worst of things”. He sighs through his quickly fading smile, “I’ve always loved… you”. His hand holds my cheek as his eyes seem to be studying me one last time.

I hold his hand in mine, not moving them from the warmth of my face, “Laurence… I’ve loved you since I knew you”.

He looks stunned. “I… never knew”. He becomes flustered.

DING

The elevator doors open to a nearly empty lobby. A few men in white jumpsuits seem to be rushing about. It was pretty clear these were the medics. A short squat man comes lumbering over to us. He is drenched in sweat yet stil extends his hand for pleasantries, “Laurence, I presume?” You don’t usually find people this obese these days. He didn’t look like most of the other medics running about.

Laurence shook his hand firmly, “Yes. Yes that’s me”. He was beginning to stammer over his words. He was still bright red and flustered from our conversation in the elevator.

“Right. So I’m Max. I’m the medic that will be assisting your team today”. He rocks back and forth on his heels as he talks. He seems to be very confident in himself despite the tension in the air. “ So this is going to be a simple procedure. I have everything already set into separate dosages to help things go quick and smooth. Everyone will be put into a deep sleep first along with of course pain killers. Then into phase two where the lethal dose gets injected. All very painless!” He begins to shoot a questioning look to Laurence who hasn’t taken his eyes off me for most of the explanation.

“I.. am sorry”. Laurence finally sputters, “I’ve been distracted. Do you mind meeting us upstairs? Floor 41. We have some unfinished business to attend to first”.

“Oh sure sure! Not a problem! We’ve got…” Max checks a screen at the corner of his vision, “a good half a day left before the inevitable!” He gives a hearty laugh.

Laurence’s hand grips mine tight, he is already pulling me away from the man before he is done talking. I see Max shrug and lumber off to the elevator as I am dragged along. Finally, he stops at a conference room, locking the door behind us. Before I can ask his lips slam into mine, his suit jacket already on the floor. It is an unexpected but welcome display of affection that we shared for the next several hours. This would be our first and last chance at any semblance of a romance together and we both knew it.

As we finally return upstairs we find that many of our coworkers have already opted to start the procedure. We are reassured that Max had gone over all the details with the group as well. As he finished hooking up the last few people he turned his attention to us, “So who’s first?”

I raise my hand. Max comes over with the first vial. The painkillers and sleep medicine. I feel it enter my bloodstream rather quickly and am out like a light. Max turns his attention to Laurence, “so… uh… I’m sure you know I was supposed to have a partner today”. Max fiddles with another dosage of painkillers and sleep aid. “but as you can see… it’s just me”. Laurence remains silent, unsure of where he is going with this. Max continues, “Have you ever wondered what was going to happen to ME after the procedure was done?”

“I assumed you’d do the process on yourself with special equipment so you have. Painless death as well.” Laurence stated.

“Yeah… that’s what they want you to think” Max sighs, “but no. You see… MY company… we were never stationed on the planet. Our founder created FTL technology and sold it to the military…”

Laurence looks confused, “FTL?”

“Ah… Faster Than Light…” Max gives a serious look, “anyway what I’m trying to say is… I have room for 1 more person in my ship. If there is anyone you want to save here… I can take them with me”.

The room was so quiet Laurence could hear the beating of his own heart, “Are… are you serious?! His mind begins to race. There was a way to save people all this time and no one was told?! Typical! But wait… he could save himself. Start a new life… he looks over his now sleeping crew. “I… only one… right?”

Max nods. “I can save you. Or maybe you’d prefer if I saved your girlfriend?” Max motions over to my sleeping body.

Laurence seems lost in thought for a bit. Finally he speaks, “Yeah. Yeah save her. I couldn’t bare to live without her but I think I can die knowing I have her another chance”. He extends his arm for the dose.

Max looks impressed, “You’re a good man”. He says as he injects the solution into his arm, “Humanity is worse off without you”. Laurence gives a little smile that wears off quickly as the medicine hits.

Max gathers his things and starts packing up his small space ship. He wasn’t lying about only having room for one other person and even then it will still be a tight squeeze. He unloads the second phase of the medicine from the vehicle, the lethal dosages. He gets a few of them set up before picking up my unconscious body and bringing me over to the ship. He looks into his ship and back to the screen in his vision… then back to his ship. “Maybe… I can make this work. Fuck, I’m gonna be in trouble for doing this anyway. I may as well go all out”. Max rushes back to the office and sets up the last lethal dosages. All expect for one. He begins to drag Laurence towards the ship as well.

I feel groggy and numb as I wake up. The smell of sweat and grease lingers in the air. I groan and look out at the stars from the window… the stars? Wait… am I alive?! My heart begins to race as I look around. I see Max in a seat across from me, reading some sort of article on a virtual screen. He realizes I’m awake and sees my panic immediately. “Whoa.. hey.. take it easy! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions”.

“What happened? Where am I?” I stammer, trying and failing to calm down.

Max reaches out towards me as if ready to hold me down should I try to fight. “Easy… easy… Laurence ask me to take you with me”. Max goes into detail about there company he is from and how their station is well out of range of the dying sun. He finally finishes by saying, “I am already going to be in so much shit for bringing you with me but… the way I see it.. I’m helping humanity survive in the only way I can”.

I choke back tears, realizing that I have somehow been spared through everything… “and what happened to Laurence?”

Max sighs, “Look… this is … incredibly illegal but…” he motions to a spare space suit strapped to the wall next to me. “I managed to fit him in there. It’s technically not a seat… but it was a spot a human could fit. Let’s just pray it’s not needed or we’re fucked”.

I peek into the visor on the suit and manage to see Laurence in the suit, fast asleep. I give an overwhelmed sigh of relief and the tears just won’t stop flowing. “Thank you… “

Max nods, “Don’t thank me yet… we’ve got a long way to go still” and he returns to reading his article.

[tariah23]

Killer Bee didn’t have to put the paws on Sasuke like that he beat that boy’s ass

[anime-kia]

Teach You

So I'm obsessed with Dadmonger. This is not the first and definitely won't be the last fic of Erik being a father. 

Warnings: Angst, violence, death and a bit of smut (it's not really suppose to be a sad story, just the beginning)

P.S. It takes a while for the reader (you) to come in.

Relationship: Single Father Erik x Reader

If you told Erik a year ago he would become a single father to premature baby girl, he would've laughed and called you a damn clown. But there he sat, staring at the four pound baby, crying her little lungs out. 

He didn't make it to the birth of the child due to fear, as he was not ready or expecting to become a father so suddenly. Two days later, when the family members had cleared out, he finally stepped into the relatively silent room, watching the mother rock the baby.

No, there was no happy-gushy feeling. Violet was just a fling and Erik happened to be too careless that night. They both knew there was no relationship. Some could call it friends with benefits, but he considered it even less than that. Maybe a one-night stand?

When she had announced to him through text that she was pregnant, Erik was furious. He called her stupid and careless, when in reality he knew that he meant it to himself. She considered getting rid of the child, but it disgusted her to even think about an option such as that. 

Violet: I'm keeping it...

Read: 4:36 pm  

He was frustrated and angered as he read the message over and over. Erik didn't know what compelled him to drive to the hospital eight months later, but he did. 

"What's her name?" Was all that he could ask.

"Nyasia Stevens."  

Erik avoided Violet's pregnancy completely, focusing on his goals, which he semi-achieved. Had he been in New York with Violet, he would've known how many complications she had experienced, almost losing the baby three times. 

Despite not being together, Erik made sure to visit them, specifically Nyasia as much as possible because he didn't want his first child growing up with one parent. In his eyes he was doing the right thing, but his arrogance blinded him from seeing how odd it was from an outsider's perspective. 

Erik sat on the carpet cross-legged, bottle feeding the three-week-old. 

"She has your big ass head." Violet said, a few coughs following after.

"And she also has all of my good lo-" Before Erik could retaliate, Violet went into a coughing fit, collapsing to the ground. "Yo, you good?" He got up and rushed over to her.

"Y-yeah." She rubbed her palms together, but stopped as she felt something warm smear in between them. 

"You're bleeding, what the fuck?" For once in his life, he actually showed some concern for a person who was not himself- or his daughter.

"I'm alright."

"Nah yo, you need to see a doctor."

"I said I'm good!" She brushed him off and went to wash her hands. 

Erik had noticed Violet's changes. Prior to having the baby, she was a healthy, curvaceous woman with pure confidence. She was bold, and not afraid to speak her mind. What Erik was looking at was not the same woman who he'd got into his bed after an hour of knowing her. She looked feeble, weak and sickly.

Erik: Aye, I'm comin' over 

Violet: Can you come tmrw? 

Erik: Nah, I'm goin' out of state tonight 

Erik stared at the three dots that popped up, then went away and popped up again.

Violet: Fine, but make it quick

Erik: Don't rush me girl

Read: 5:44 pm

"So what was the issue?" Erik questioned, cradling Nyasia.

"What are you talking about, Erik?" Violet asked while taking a pill. She finally took his advice and went to go see the doctor, though she didn't tell him what was happening.

"You was acting like you got places to be."

"No it's just..." Her eyes avoided his, "My ex. He's suppose to come by and get the rest of his shit. I just didn't want y'all to start conflict cuz... Ya know."

He nodded, catching onto what she meant. "So, how you been?"

"Eh, somewhat better I guess." 

He looked at the baby who was lulled into a sleep, "...What'd the doctors say?"

"Oh..." She bit her lip, still avoiding his gaze, "It's just pneumonia."

Erik knew she was lying, "Oh." But he went with it.

Suddenly her phone went off, and he noticed her mood change completely as she read the name. 

"Hello? ...Yeah it's all packed... I can bring it down to y- ...Okay... Okay." She looked at Erik, "He's here."

"Aight."

She went into her bedroom and shoved a garbage bag to the door with her foot. 

"You need help?"

"Nah, you got her. I can do it."

By time she got the last bag to the door, she was winded, taking deep breaths. Three knocks rapped against the door and she opened it ajar allowing Erik to see less than half of the man's face. 

"Whatchu got the door cracked like this for?" The man's voice was harsh, cold and had a hint of aggression in it. A familiar tone that Erik recognized. 

"All your stuff is right here. You don't need to come in."

"Stop playing with me." 

"Tim, all your stuff is at the door, I'm not hiding anything from you. Just grab your shit and go."

"If you don't get the fuck out my way, Vi." A loud boom and Violet flying backwards caused Erik to raise his eyebrows and stand from his seat. The man, Tim, entered the apartment staring down at Violet with a crazed expression. She tried getting up, but was pushed back down. "Stay down, bitch."

After setting Nyasia onto the table, wrapped in her blanket and his sweater, Erik cautiously peered around the corner. He had noticed an elevation on the side of Tim's hip, shaped like a gun.

"You got some nerve. After I gave you all that I had you out here cheating and being a slut. Then you gon' break up with me cuz you had some other nigga's bastard kid?"

She glared at him, "Don't talk about my daughter like that." 

"Nah, fuck that. You said you loved me. Why you gotta do me like that, Vi?"

"Because you're fucking abusive. I could never love you and I should've left your sorry ass long ago."

He started to laugh, "I ain't losing you."

"And I'm not giving you a choice. Get the fuck out!"

His hand moved under his shirt, pulling out the pistol. Violet's eye's widened. 

"Are you fucking crazy!?"

"See, here's the thing... I told your ass from the jump you ain't leaving me for anyone. I'll kill if I have to." He took the safety off and aimed at her. "So either you get that through your dumb ass head or my bullet will be the only thing going through it." 

She didn't respond, only angering him even more so he shot at the ground by her foot. Violet flinched, pulling her foot up to her chest.

"Answer me, bi-" His head turned sharply towards the kitchen as he heard the sound of a baby crying. 

During the fiasco, Erik turned the kitchen lights off and hid behind the archway out of Tim's sight. He watched as the chunky man stormed into the room, searching for the light switch, pistol still in hand. As he flicked on the light, Erik grabbed his arm and slammed it against the wall, trying to free the gun from his hand.  

"You!" He growled and tried bending his arm to aim at Erik. 

Tim managed to knock Erik onto the ground and aimed for him, but Erik was fast, kicking him in the knee and hopped back up. Erik elbowed him in his stomach and tried grabbing the gun, but the grip he had on it was unbelievable. Tim shoved himself and Erik backwards into a wall, causing paintings to crash onto the ground. Their arms were intertwined tightly as they continued to scuffle. Violet tried to break them up, but only ended up getting shoved into her kitchen table, where Nyasia was crying. Tim started aimlessly shooting, hoping to hit Erik somewhere, stray bullets bounced around the room. Erik finally managed to unarmed Tim, but the loud scream of Violet silenced them both. 

They looked over and watched in horror as she held onto her bleeding neck. Not only that, but she was shielding Nyasia with her entire body. Blood started to seep through the back of her shirt and onto the white tiles. At least four bullets had penetrated her, one surely hitting a major organ. 

As Tim stared in horror, Erik took advantage to knock him out with a punch. He rushed over to the two girls.

"It's okay. You're okay. Keep your eyes open, keep 'em open." He pulled his shirt off and wrapped it around her body, then took his own hands and applied pressure onto her neck, "Don't you fuckin' close your eyes, Vi." It was the first time he called her by her nickname. "Think about Nyasia, she needs her mom." He could feel tears welling into his eyes as the light in hers began to fade. "Come on, I can't do this shit on my own! Don't you close your eyes!" He shook her body, but she was long gone.

When reality finally hit him, Erik was filled with rage and anger. He looked at the unconscious man, and picked up the gun. He aimed at his head, ready to pull the trigger until Nyasia's cries grew louder. In his past, Erik would have no problem pulling the trigger, but her cries compelled him to stop. He broke down and held his daughter, the distant sounds of sirens became louder. 

This was going to be a long night...

After Violet's funeral, Erik had to go to court for two different cases. One being the trial of Tim, his full name, Timothy Banter and the other which he believed was beyond unnecessary, fighting for custody of his daughter.

Of course the trial for Timothy was easy enough, he was guilty. He even admitted it himself. But the fight for his daughter was something else. A very long and drawn out process and Erik could've easily given up the battle and allowed Violet's parents to take custody of Nyasia, but he wasn't having it. Not after what happened to Violet. He needed to be there to protect her from the world, and from psychotic men like Timothy. 

He got emotional in court a few times until the judge finally decided he proven himself worthy enough to take care of the child. There was no way he was going to stay in New York anymore, so he moved back to his first home in Oakland.  

That was three years ago, but now Erik had rebuilt his relationship with his family in Wakanda and started working with their Wakandan Outreach Centre in Oakland. He had gotten his life together. Somewhat...

He lived in a nice two bedroom, two bathroom bungalow outside of the city, with his three-year-old daughter and drove a Dodge Charger, souped up to his liking.  

He put his hoe tendencies away after the whole incident, but that didn't mean he wasn't looking for someone. The problem was, all the women he had been with wanted him, but not his daughter. He thought it was ridiculous that someone would run away just because he had a kid, but then it reminded him of his younger self. He would pretend to care about his date's personal life and if she had a child, he would pretend to care for the kid (as long as it got him some pussy). But he would leave right after and never contact her again. He thought this was karma getting back at him for all those years.

Erik was laid out on his back, his daughter on his chest fast asleep. He had woken up a while ago from his alarm. One thing Nyasia didn't take from him was his light sleeping. She slept like a rock, whereas the slightest thing would wake him out of his sleep. 

As she got older, she started to look like him, but more so like Violet. She got her mother's round hazel eyes, and nose, and Erik's lips and honey brown skin. Her body was still smaller than your average three-year-old and still weighed a lot less, but she was healthy and he made sure of it. Every time they went to her paediatrician, he was glad to hear that she didn't have any arising complications due to her being a premie. 

She was his world and he would never let anything happen to her.

"Ny?" He rubbed her back and watched as she whined and snuggled more into his chest. "Wake up, baby girl."

She mumbled and groaned, holding him tight. 

"Daddy's gotta get up." 

"Nooo." She whined. He sat up and held her close to his chest as he pulled the covers off. 

It was nine and Erik had to be at the centre for twelve. They were hosting a convention to celebrate Black Excellence. He first opened the idea to his daughter, asking her if she wanted to see why being black was probably the greatest thing ever and his daughter of course was down for that (obviously she didn't know what he was talking about).

Their first trip was to the bathroom. Erik ran her bath and helped her wash off as he brushed his teeth. While lathering her body in soap, she grabbed the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth and started to pull. He grabbed her hand and scolded, "Aye lil mama, don't be doing that." She pouted. "Nah, don't be sad now, you could've broken one of my damn teeth."    

He got up and spat the foamy toothpaste out and rinsed out his mouth then attended back to Nyasia. He washed off the soap, took her out and wrapped her in a yellow towel with a hood that resembled a duck.

"Daddy?" She asked as he sat her on his bed and got out an outfit and moisturizing products.

"Yeah, princess?"

"Where we going?"

"To the centre." He responded, and began to moisturize her soft skin with shea butter. 

"Why?"

"To see the greatness of folks who look just like you and me." He moisturized her face then sat her upright. "Aight, so do you wanna match daddy or you tryna rock your own fit?"

"I wanna match!"

"That's my girl." He poked her nose and she giggled pushing his finger away. 

When Erik finished dressing his little girl, he'd noticed her bedhead. He wasn't an expert on haircare, even with his own hair, he just went to a black owned salon in the city. The best he could do with Nyasia's 4b tresses was moisturize and put them into a little puff. Two if he felt like being creative, and toady he did. 

He turned on his PS4 and went to the Netflix app, "Whatchu wanna watch?"

"My Little Pony!" 

"Hell naw, not that girly ass shit." He frowned. Her lip started to quiver, eyes becoming glossy. "Ugh, fine. No crying." He turned on the show and tossed his controller to the side. Erik shook his head as he went into the kitchen to grab her some fruits. 

Nyasia was quite the spoiled little girl. Her tears alone could win his heart and he would stop at nothing to give his baby girl the world. 

"I'ma go take a shower, so don't do nothing bad. And eat all of your fruits." He said, while placing the cut up strawberries and apples in front of her. She didn't take her eyes of the TV for a second, only nodding and grabbing a fruit off the plate with her tiny hand. 

Erik knew she was smart enough to be by herself for a little while. But just in case, he had security cameras installed around his house so he could watch through his phone. He occasionally peeked out of the shower to make sure she was okay and she was. Her little voice singing along to the theme song put a smile on his face as he washed off. He could already tell she was going to be a great singer. 

By time he was out the shower, lotioned up and dressed in his white t-shirt, black jeans and gold chain, Nyasia was poking her head through the door asking him to change the show, but he told her it was time to go.

"Daddy?" She asked as he pulled into the parking lot.

"Wassup?" He looked at her through the rearview mirror.

"Why you didn't eat?"

He turned off the engine, got out and went around to get her, "Cuz I'ma get something in here."

"You not hungwey?"

"Yeah I'm hungry." He lifted her out of her carseat and set her onto the ground. 

"Wait!" She screamed as the car door shut. 

"What!?" 

"I need my dolly!" 

"Aight damn, girl." He opened the door and grabbed the African inspired plush doll, careful not to knock off the gele. "Here." He handed the doll over and she happily hugged it.

"Yo, E!" A tall, slim-built dark skin called to Erik. 

"Shamar, what's good, bro?" He said as they did a quick hand shake.

"Nothing much- Aye who's that back there?" He playfully smirked at the little girl hiding behind her dad's legs. "Is that Ny Ny?" She gave him a smile and ran into his open arms. "Wassup, lil mama?" He tossed her in the air, sending her into a fit of laughter. 

"Hi, Shamaw!" 

"Your r's ain't come in yet?" He chuckled. "Oh shit, look at y'all matching. And you got the same 12's! Bruh, I can't wait for my lil man to get here." 

"How many weeks y'all got left?" Erik took Nyasia back into his arms when she reached over. 

"I think two. Tiana been bitching though. She almost slapped the f- I mean crap outta me for breathing."

Erik laughed, happy he didn't have to experience a moody woman for nine months. "I hear you."

"Anyways, they about to start. I think yo' cousin is here too." 

Erik sighed, as they proceeded to the auditorium. "Of course he is."

"The other day I was scrolling through Twitter and I saw this tweet. It made me laugh, where they basically said- and pardon my French but; 'I love being black, shit kinda dangerous, but it's lit.' And they added a Jaden Smith meme." The auditorium laughed at your comment. "And I just thought how accurate that is. We are so amazing, so beautiful, so creative. Literally everything we do is copied; our hair, our music, our dances, our food. Even the shapes of our bodies! They paying for lips!" And all the women in the audience yelled 'preach' or 'amen'. "But yet still, we're prosecuted just for existing."

"Great point, I just wanna add onto that." Another lady, Shyanne said. You known her from her blog  where she discussed black American issues and different political topics, "I also saw a comment that said, 'They want our rhythm, but not our blues.' And when I tell you I almost got that tattooed onto my damn face!"

The auditorium erupted in shouts and applause, giving off a church-like vibe.

"Makes no damn sense." You laughed and adjusted your red dashiki, "Look, it's so much we can get into, but I know we're running out of time and we gotta get those workshops going so if anyone wants to add anything quick we can do that. If not, we're gonna take a lunch break and get started." A few questions were answered, then everyone was dismissed to get lunch. 

Throughout the conference, Erik could not stop looking at you. You were so full of energy and just genuinely happy to be there to express your love for your culture. He's never seen you before, but he was going to make sure it wouldn't be the last either. 

"Cousin, you know if you take a picture it lasts longer." The familiar accent caused Erik to let out an annoyed sigh. "But that would be quite creepy I suppose."

"Shut the hell up." He said, averting his attention from your backside.

"Hey, don't speak like that in front of the future princess." T'Challa covered the little girl's ears who was seated in his lap, toying with his kimoyo beads. 

"She already heard it all."

"Tsk, tsk." T'Challa shook his head, disappointed, but not surprised. "So why don't you go and talk to her?"

"Who said I wanna talk to her?" He looked at his daughter, and picked a lint out of her hair.

T'Challa chuckled, "You're not fooling me, N'Jadaka."

Erik kissed his teeth, "Don't call me that, bruh."

"If you don't go I will." He teased.

"Keep yo' happy ass here. I don't need ya help." Erik snapped, getting off the sofa. 

"You have ten minutes before the workshops." T'Challa called to Erik as he walked over to you. 

A tap on your shoulder turned you around. Your eyes met with a rather large chest until you craned your head upwards and met with dark brown eyes. "Oh, hi." You shielded your mouth with a hand and tried to finish the sugar cookie faster.  

"Hey, your speech was really good and the points you brought up."

"Thank you." You held out your other hand for him to shake it, "(Y/n)." 

"Erik." He took your hand and shook it. 

"Hold up, as in... Erik Killmonger?"

"Uh, I don't go by that title anymore."

You nodded, "Yeah, so I heard. You turned over a new leaf or something?"

"You could say that."

Erik's story of his accomplishments, uprising and life changes were well known around the country. It was surprising to hear how much mercy was shed on him, even after the whole Wakandan incident. He became a tabula rasa within the following years, starting over his life. 

"I'm hosting one of the workshops. It's a seminar on black female beauty for all ages- and genders. You could swing by if you'd like." 

He looked down at you, rubbing is bearded chin, "I'll think about it." 

Of course he would go, even if it was just for a second. Erik knew that he had to teach his daughter how to love herself from the beginning. He always made sure to remind her how beautiful her brown skin was or how gorgeous her coily hair was. He never wanted her to second guess her appearance, but there was only so much he could do for her. One day, she might want straight hair and lighter skin, and he would feel guilty for not being able to assure her of her beauty. He knew that eventually she would need a role model that she could relate and look up to. A woman like you even...

"Okay great, nice meeting you, Erik." You picked up your purse.

"Yeah, same to you, ma."

In the crowded space, you stood out as you walked upstairs to your workshop. Chocolate skin glowing, hair was styled neatly into lemonade braids, bright red dashiki contrasting against the grey walls and tiles, black heels clicking against the floor growing quieter in Erik's ears as he watched you leave.

"So cuz', did you take a picture?" T'Challa was suddenly at his side, with his fussing daughter. 

"What, nigga? No."

"Brother! Come on, it's about to st-" The voice of his teenage cousin called out. "Oh, Erik!" She hugged his side. She had grown taller, her head was just above his armpit now. 

"Sup, Shuri?" He hugged her back, "What, the whole family here?"

"No, just us. We had to come support your big event." T'Challa said.

"Showi!" Nyasia reached out to the teenager.

She took the child from her brother, "Hello Princess Nyasia. How are you?" 

"Good!"

"And how old are you now?"

"Fwee!" She held up four fingers in Shuri's face.

"No, Ny." Erik corrected her and put her pinky finger down, "That's three."

The cousins all laughed and Shuri gave Nyasia back to her father. 

"By the way, Erik..." She began with a cheeky tone in her voice, "I saw you talking to that woman." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"So what?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

Her grin was the wickedest thing Erik had ever seen, "Are you trying to get Nyasia a sibling?" 

Erik was about to chase Shuri around the building until T'Challa interrupted reminding him that he was holding a child and that the workshops were about to begin.

"See ya later, cuz'!" They called out and parted ways.

Erik sighed, "It's just you and me, Ny."

"Yay!"

After going to five different workshops, Erik finally decided it was time to visit yours as the day was almost over. Unfortunately- or fortunately, Nyasia was fast asleep in his arms. The room was full so he stood at the back.

"Is anyone here a parent to a girl?" You asked looking around the room.

A few put up their hands, some young and some middle aged. Erik slightly raised his hand, enough that it wouldn't wake his daughter.

"And how much do you remind her that she's beautiful? Maybe once a week? Every day? Never?" You paused, "I cannot stress enough how important it is to make sure your baby girl knows her worth. Because one day she'll step into the real world, and they'll tell her: Your hair is not good enough for this job, your skin is too dark, your nose is too big." You shook your head, "Or maybe they'll tell her that she's 'beautiful for a black girl'." You scoffed. "No, she's beautiful because she is beautiful."

The audience clapped, and agreed. 

"Growing up, I always wanted straight, long hair. I wanted to be white, I wanted to marry a white man. Anytime I looked in the mirror, all I saw was an ugly black kid who was not good or pretty enough. But what the hell is pretty these days? Society tries to tell you what is and what is not, but they are so damn confused. Like I said earlier, they tell us big lips and curves are not good enough. But look at who's trying get all that we naturally have. They try to tell us our hair isn't good enough, but they don't want us to wear weaves or extensions, like make up your mind! Damn!" 

You spoke with your hands, conveying your annoyance and the audience cheered again, Erik found himself smiling a bit.

"Even our boys, they need to know their worth too. But that's in the seminar across the room." You smiled, "I want you to remind your daughter that she is worth it. And she deserves the world. But- be careful, you don't want to raise a narcissist. That's another case on it's own. Now I don't have a daughter or any kids for that matter, but if I did, I would make sure she is proud of who she is."

The convention had finally come to an end and Erik was relieved and very content with how everything turned out. The parking lot was mainly empty, leaving you, the Royal's and him behind. 

"So y'all going back to Wakanda?" He was looking behind his cousins, once again at your behind as you were putting equipment into your car.

"No we wanted to try Chick-filla tomorrow." Shuri said.

"Chick filla?" Erik frowned with his arms crossed. "Oh. You mean Chick-fil-A? It closed on Sundays."

The teenager huffed, "Dammit!" 

Erik's time was running out, you were almost finished packing away your things.

"That is alright Shuri, we'll come again next month. Now come on, we need to head back."

She sighed and gave Erik a hug one last time, "Goodbye, N'Jadaka. Don't miss us too much." 

He chuckled, "I ain't missing shit." 

She lightly punched his chest and laughed. "Whatever, cuz'. Tell Nyasia goodbye when she wakes up for me." She waved and went into the aircraft. 

"Sure thing, kid." He waved back to her then looked at T'Challa who was staring at him with a smirk. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." He held his hands up in defence, "You better hurry, she's almost done."

Erik scoffed and shook his head, "Stay out my business." 

T'Challa laughed, "Drive safe, cousin."

"Yeah, you uh- fly safe." He nodded to his cousin and began walking towards you. "Yo!" 

You turned around and saw him getting closer, "Oh hey, Erik."

"You're not in a rush, right?" 

"Nope, just going home." You locked the car trunk. "I didn't see you at the workshop."

"I was there, I came to the last one."

"Where were you?"

"Chillin' at the back. You got a good voice."

"Thank you. So did you like the presentation overall?"

"Yeah, it was really good."

You slightly frowned at him then chuckled, "Yeah right."

"Nah, I'm serious. It was a presentation I never knew I needed."

Your arms crossed over your chest, "Look, Erik. You don't gotta suck up to me if you want to take me out on a date."

He had an idea of what you were getting at, and he still didn't tell you he had a daughter. "First off, shorty, I ain't suckin' up to you. I'm being honest." Then he smirked, "Secondly, how you know I was gonna ask you out on a date?"

"I've been in this scenario too many times." You sighed, "And quite frankly I'm sick of it."

"So if I do ask you out, you're gonna say no?"

You were hesitant to respond, and Erik seemed like a genuine guy, unlike the ones who wanted you temporarily because they had no intentions of settling down. 

"...I dunno." You shrugged one shoulder, casting your eyes to his shoes.

"Give me one chance." His words came out both as a question and a statement. "If I disappoint you, you don't gotta call me back."

You looked back into his eyes, soft and honest. "Alright." You said with a smile, giving him your number on a piece of paper. 

"You free tomorrow?" 

"After four."

"Then I'll get you after four." He smiled, you noticed his gold grills shinning under the evening sky.

"Okay, see you then." You waved at him with a silly grin.

"Yeah, see ya." He said walking backwards and you laughed at him.

So yeah, it was a little crazy going on a date with an ex-psychopath-murderer, but you believed that people do change. Though this was your first time meeting him, something about him was so genuine and caring, and it felt as though he was an entirely different person. Then again, maybe you'd be regretting this a few months later. But, let's be optimistic and hope for the best.

Erik shot a quick text to T'Challa asking him if he could stay one more day. If he did, he'd promise to take them to Chick-fil-A next time. And of course Shuri would not allow herself to miss an opportunity like that.

"Ya daddy done got a date, Ny." 

"Date?" She questioned him.

"Yeah." Erik smiled at the three-year-old through his mirror. 

"Can I come?"

"Nah, lil mama." He said, adjusting the collar of his navy blazer.

He could already see the tears forming and her mouth shaking. 

"Aye, don't start crying, princess. You get to hang out with Shuri today."

She wiped the crocodile tears out of her eyes, "Showi?"

"Yep. And T'Challa." He internally shook his head, she was already learning manipulation. 

The sound of the front door opening made Erik rush to the dresser to grab his pistol, clicking the safety off. He aimed at the two culprits, and let out an aggravated sigh as he stared at his cousins holding their hands up.

"Whoa! Don't shoot!" Shuri screamed. 

"Why the hell y'all breaking into my crib? That's a big no, unless y'all trying to die." Erik turned the safety back on and set the gun high onto the fireplace mantel.  

"You gave us a key, remember?" Shuri insisted, but he had no memory of giving either of them a key to keep. Unless...

"Y'all made a copy of my house key?" Erik raised his voice, glaring at the two.

"Uh..." Shuri cheekily grinned.

Erik would've chased her, but Nyasia came out of the bedroom, running into T'Challa's legs. "Hi, Uncew T!" 

T'Challa lifted her off the ground, tossing her in the air. "Hello, Princess Nyasia!" Then she reached out for Shuri.

"Showi!" 

"Hello, sweet girl!" She hugged her tightly.

Erik checked his Rolex, it was almost five. "Aight, don't destroy my house. If she gets hurt, I'm kicking both y'all asses."

"Relax, cousin. We got this." T'Challa said, placing a hand on Erik's back.

"Yeah, whatever." He rolled his eyes, then leaned towards his daughter, "Gimme kiss." He positioned his cheek by her lips and Nyasia placed a kiss on it. "Behave."

"Bye, daddy!" She waved at him from Shuri's arms.

"Later, y'all."

"Make sure you come home and don't do the you know what!" Shuri reminded him as he made his way down the stairs.

"Shut the hell up." He did his best to hide his laugh as he got into the Charger. He shot you a 'OMW' text, turned on his hip-hop playlist and drove towards your address.

Erik was quite excited to finally be back on the dating scene since it's been so long. Actually, he's never really had a proper relationship, just flings. After the incident with Violet, he was left scarred and afraid to mess around. But as always, time heals all wounds.

When the bass of an old Lil Wayne song died down, another one started up making him nauseous. Someone just cut him off and he was on his horn for a good twenty seconds. 

"Bitch ass motherfucka!" 

All the rage that was built up in him had found it's way back. The song still played as he didn't have the chance to stop it due to the idiot driving 90 on a 60 in a damn Beetle. This song forever scarred him, reminding him of the time he unintentionally conceived Nyasia. He vividly remembered exactly what went down and he remembered that song coming on as they changed positions. 

 He realized what had just happened, scaring himself. If it were his past self, that Beetle and it's driver would've been on the news with the headline reporting 'fatal car crash on interstate 980' not that Erik would've been apart of the crash, rather he'd be the one to cause it. But your text brought him out of those thoughts. It was just an 'Okay', but you might've saved someone's life just then. He switched the song and made a mental note to delete it as soon as he got out the car.

When he pulled up to the apartment complex, you were seated outside, talking to another female with a gigantic afro, around your age. 

Erik: I'm here

He watched you look at your phone, then get up and hug the girl you were talking to.

You: What car?

Erik: Black Dodge Charger, keep walking straight. I see u

You: Oh

He watched as you walked closer and closer to his vehicle, still a little unsure because his windows were tinted. But he got out to open your door.

"Hey, nice car." You awed and got into the passengers seat.

"Thanks." He looked you up and down, "You look good."

And you did the same, "Aw thank you, same to you." Your outfit was canary yellow, above the knee, v-neck dress that you paired with brown heels and gold hoop earrings. Erik on the other hand wore a nice navy blue blazer, a white button up, matching navy bottoms, black loafers and of course accompanying it with his gold chain.

"So who was that?" He asked, driving out of the complex.

"My roommate, I asked her to come down with me cuz I didn't want to wait alone. We got crazy ass people living there."

"Why didn't you just wait inside?" He glanced at you from time to time.

You shrug, "I live on the tenth floor. It would be a waste of time for you to come all the way up just to go all the way back down."

 "Hm." Was all he said, "Wanna listen to some music?" 

"Of course, what's your playlist looking like?" 

"A lot of hip-hop, rap, r&b, Cali rap, throwbacks, and I think I got some Canadian dudes in there too."

"Ooh, well put it on shuffle then. I'm tryna hear it all and I'd love to hear your 'sad nigga hour' songs." You playfully quipped. 

"Oh you got jokes." He grinned, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. 

You nodded, giving him your best smile. "We have to pull up to that restaurant in style. You said it was in some rich caucasian dominated neighbourhood, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well let's add some flavour to their dull lives with good music." You smirked.

"They ain't gonna call it good, they think it promotes rape and violence." He chuckled.

"Well fuck what they think then." You shrugged and Erik could already tell he wanted to keep you around. You turned up the volume, the speakers booming to Quavo's WORKIN ME.

Erik helped you out of the car, locking the door behind you. 

"Thank you." When you stood up and looked around, your eyes met with multiple blue and green ones staring at you both. You nudged Erik's shoulder and whispered, "We did it."

He smirked, looking at the confused and appalled people. "Good." You pulled up playing Kendrick's Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe. 

"You think they'll call the police?" You said under your breath as you walked to the entrance.

He shook his head and chuckled, "Nah."

"I'll get the six ounce top sirloin, well done please." You pointed a manicured nail at the menu.

"Sure. Potatoes, fries, rice?" The waitress asked.

"Fries."

"Okay," She picked up the menu, "And for you, sir?" 

"Lemme get a full rack of the barbecue ribs. I'll take fries with that too."

"Alright, your orders will be out soon." She picked up his menu and left you both alone. 

"So." He began, folding his arms on the table.

"So?" You copied him.

"What do you do for work?"

"I organize events; weddings, birthday parties, that sort of thing. But I also educate the culture as much as I can. So when I saw the Oakland Outreach was hosting a convention, I signed up immediately."

"I'm glad I could help you educate the community." 

"Huh?" You tilted your head to the side, "Oh! You run that centre right?"

"Yeah." He nodded, enjoying your astonished expression.

"That's honestly so amazing. Progress in the community." You smiled. 

By the end of the date, you were stuffed and happy. The food was great, and the conversations you had with Erik were even better. He was very intelligent and insightful, you definitely learned new things that never crossed your mind before. You also told him some things he never thought about before. 

The drive back home was very chill, he played Good Kid, m.A.A.d City with the windows rolled down. The air was chilly, but refreshing. Something you haven't felt in a while. The dates you've went on in the past were dry and a big waste of time. The end goal was obvious, sex. You would've rather they just tell you flat out that they were looking to get you into their beds versus taking three hours out of your day to go on a cheap date that you had to pay for anyway.

Erik was kind enough to walk you up to the front doors of your apartment building. He even waited for your roommate to buzz you in.

"Goodnight, Erik." You gave him a hug, your head met his scarred chest. You could see how toned and muscular he was when he took off his blazer back at the restaurant, but you didn't expect his chest to be that hard. "Oh and, I had a lot of fun. You should... Hit me up again." You suggested.

"Sure." He smirked, "Goodnight."

It was like a snowball effect after he called you to go on another date with him. Once a month turned into once a week and before you knew it, you were seeing him almost every day.

You were getting ready to go over to his house for the first time as he had some big news to tell you. Hopefully he wasn't planning on moving too quickly because you both were just friends, but a little bit flirty. Your relationship was moving at a nice pace and you didn't want anything to mess that up.

You fixed your curls into a half up, half down style and you wore a comfy red flannel, a white tank top, black leggings and full black Nikes. 

"Who you getting cute for?" Yalani, your roommate asked as you applied beauty supply store lipgloss to your lips. Her hair was styled in a slick back ponytail with three braids on the side, done by you. You had some talent for hair. 

"Girl, this ain't cute." You looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "This is casual." 

"Uh huh, is that right?"

"Yep."

"So where you going then?"

"None of your business." 

"Dick appointment, huh?"

"Wha- No!" 

"You are definitely whipped over that nigga, trust me, sis. You beat your face just to grab some coffee with him the other day."

"I ain't whipped, girl bye." You grabbed your purse and keys leaving before she could pester you anymore. 

"Don't forget to bring a condom!" She screamed as the door shut. Your elder neighbour, Miss Celia had a shocked expression on her face, as she pushed her walker towards the elevator.

"Good afternoon." You greeted her with an awkward smile. "Sorry about her." 

This was going to be a long ride down...

"I invited my friend over." Erik told Nyasia. 

"I gonna meet him!?" Nyasia jumped up an down, clapping her hands.

"She's a girl, not a dude." He corrected her.

Nyasia's face lit up at the mention of another female. Despite her being a daddy's girl, she loved having female company as it was rare. Erik would usually have his guy friend's over. The only female who had actually been in his house other than his daughter was Shuri.

"You better behave too."

"I will!" 

"Pinky promise?" Erik kneeled in front of his daughter and held his pinky out.

She wrapped her pinky finger around his, "Promise!"

"That's my girl!" He surprise attacked her with tickles, which turned into them full on playing. He blew raspberries on her stomach, flipped her with one hand, tossed her into the air, and she laughed and screamed.

You stood outside his front door, a little confused when you heard the voice of a child coming from inside. Hopefully this was the right address... You rang the doorbell and the laughter stopped. 

Erik checked through the peephole and saw you standing there. He liked the casual look you were sporting today, usually your outfits were dressy. 

"Daddy! Again!" Nyasia laughed and hit his calves repeatedly.

"Aye, stop it. She's here, remember you promised to behave." 

She pouted and went to sit on the couch as Erik opened the door. 

"Hey." He began, looking you up and down. When his eyes finally met yours, you regretted listening to Ella Mai'sTrip, the song put you in your feelings and his stare was not helping. 

"Hey, Erik." You grinned at the man in a black Nike sweatsuit, his dreads resting across his forehead. You reached for the ring attached to his gold chain, "Do you ever take this off?" As you stepped closer, you could smell his home, it reminded you of that sandalwood candle you smelt in Bath and Body Works.

"Only if I'm sleeping or in the shower." He replied and stepped aside to let you in.

"I see." You took in the surroundings of his home. Open concept, a lot of browns, blacks and beiges, giving the house a warm and welcoming feeling. You expected something colder, masculine and minimalistic. It was surprising to see a group of plants cornered to one side of his living room, but what was even more surprising were the children's toys scattered across the floor. "So, what did you want to tell me?" You hesitantly ask.

He bites his lip and asks you to follow him towards the sofa, and your eyes widen as they make contact with a little girl folding her arms with a scowl on her face. Your feelings die down as reality hits you. Erik was a father, meaning that he was with someone already. You were strictly just friends... It made you wonder why he took you out on all those dates in the first place.

"This is my daughter, Nyasia." He goes to pick her up, "Why you making that face for? I said we can play later. Now say hi to (y/n)."

She looks at you, her expression softens, but she hides her face into his neck. This only causes Erik to sit her on his other hip, but she does the same thing again.

"Come on, Ny. I know you ain't acting shy all of a sudden." You could hear the discomfort in Erik's voice, almost like he wished that he didn't have to do all of this.

You walk over to them and try to look at the little girl hiding from you. "Hello, beautiful." 

Erik turned his body so she could have a peak at you. "I dunno why she's being all shy. She was excited when I told her you were coming."

"She'll warm up to me." You smiled at him, "...So why am I just finding out you have a kid? After all those dates?" He could hear the disappointment in your voice. 

"I'm a single father." He admitted. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." You felt bad for asking, but also shocked. You had so many questions, but you would let him tell you when he was ready.

"Nah, we cool." He placed a kiss on his daughter's temple, "Right Ny Ny?" She looked at him with her fingers in her mouth and nodded. You finally caught a better look at her. Her hazel eyes were gorgeous, and you saw a bit of Erik in her. You assumed the mother was a beautiful woman seeing the outcome of the child. 

"How old is she?" 

"Tell her, Ny." He set her down and she held up four fingers. Before Erik could correct her, she dropped her pinky finger.

"Fwee!"

You were genuinely shocked, she was so small. Her father was so large, you half expected him to have a chubby kid. "Three?!" Erik knew you said it like that because of her smaller than average three-year-old frame.

"She's a premie." He chuckled and you 'oohhh'd' in understanding.

"What's a pwemie, Daddy?" She asked, staring into his eyes, they were so soft as he looked at her.

"A baby who came out too early." He sat down on the sofa and she climbed into his lap.

"Oh." She replied, surely not understanding the concept properly. 

"So." Erik looked at you as you sat down beside them, "Whatchu you wanna do?"

"We could watch a movie." You suggested, watching as Nyasia's hand fondled with the ring on his chain. 

"Which on- Aye, don't yank my chain!" He scolded, pulling her hand away. 

Nyasia's face contorted into a frown, her eyes watering and mouth quivering, eventually turning into a cry. You immediately wanted to comfort the baby girl, but Erik was already handling it.

"Ny, you can't be doing things like that. It's not nice." She continued to cry so he pulled her into a hug, muffling her cries as she held onto his chest. "She's alright." He soothingly rubbed her back until her cries died down.

You stared at them in awe.

He pulls her away from his chest so she could look at him, "Now what do you say?" 

She rubbed her eyes with a fisted hand, "Sowwy, Daddy."

"That's alright." He said and allowed her to cuddle back into his chest, hiding her face. "I spoil her a bit too much, but she gotta know there's consequences to bad behaviour."

"You seem to be doing a good job at that." You assured him.

"For real?" And you nod.

"Daddy?" You hear her muffled voice say.

"Wassup, princess?" 

"I'm hungwey." 

"Same." He looks at you, "How bout you, (y/n)?" 

"Yeah, I could go for something."

"You like wings?" 

"Sure."

As Erik got up, he tried to set Nyasia down, but she only clung onto him even tighter. "Come on Ny, I gotta get my phone."

"No." She whines. 

"Then I guess you ain't getting nothing." 

"Noooo!" She whines even more and you're just giggling at the two.

"So chill here, I'm not leaving. Talk to (y/n), she's really nice." She huffs as he sets her down. "Sorry, she woke up from her nap a while ago, so she's cranky."

"I get it, I'm like that too." 

Before he leaves to go order the wings, he gives you the remote and tells you to find a movie.

Nyasia stared at you, she looked almost hesitant to approach you, so you smiled at her. She bit her thumb and gingerly crawled over to you. 

"Hey, pretty girl." You said and she gave you a grin as she waved.

She pointed at your head, "I like yo' haiw." You found it very cute that she couldn't quite pronounce her r's yet.

"Thank you." You replied in a higher voice that you used with all babies and young children. "Who did your hair?" 

"My daddy!"

"Wow, he did a good job." You weren't lying when you said that, it was clearly moisturized, and styled into two puffs with a very clean part down the middle. It was frizzing up a little, but you assumed that it was from her playing.

She rolled off of the sofa and ran towards one of her toy dolls, picked it up and placed it onto the sofa, then climbed back on (with your assistance).

"Who's this?" You ask.

"Mimi. She's the queen. Showi got it for me."

"Who's Showi?"

"My cousin. It's actually Shuri." Erik had finished placing the order and sat back down. "She spoils her too."

"Oh, you mean the princess?" 

"Yeah." He nodded. "The wings should be here in thirty minutes or so. What movie did y'all choose?"

"Oh crap, I forgot. I was so caught up talking to Nyasia."

"It's all good, I'll find something. But I got a request."

"What's up?"

"You do hair, right?" 

"Mhm."

"Can you braid my dreads back?"

You were a little surprised at first, but agreed anyway. He grabbed a pillow and placed it in between your feet and sat down, resting his large arms on your thighs. The amount of heat that radiated off of him almost made you sweat.

"Aren't you hot?" You asked, sectioning his hair. 

"Nah, are you?"

"A bit." 

He chuckled and asked with a suggestive tone, "Is it cuz I'm in between yo' legs?"

Your jaw dropped, "Boy, please. Your body is like a damn heater." If you had a comb, you would've popped him in the head.

He laughed and scrolled through Netflix looking for a film. Nyasia climbed off the sofa and into his lap.

"You're not tender headed, right?" You ask.

"I don't think- Ow!" He held the spot that you pulled. "Damn, what was that!?"

"I had to check and the results are in... You are tender headed!" You joked.

He pinched your thigh and you yelped, "Pay back." Nyasia just laughed at you both.

Erik decided to play an action movie with spies and lot's of explosions. You weren't paying attention to the title, and you didn't bother to ask, so you just went with it. But you did ask him if it was appropriate enough for Nyasia, and he told you that they've watched way worse and she was fine with it. You didn't want to tell him how to be a parent, seeing as you had no children, but your maternal instincts kicked in and you said she shouldn't be watching violence. He didn't argue with you, only shrugging instead. At some point, Nyasia climbed back onto the sofa to watch you work your fingers through her father's hair.

You finished the last braid and watched him get up and stretch. He took off his sweater, finally becoming too hot after exchanging body heat with you for almost twenty minutes. He was now in a white t-shirt that gave you a better view of his muscles and keloids. 

Erik noticed you staring. "Thanks, ma." He said with a mischievous grin. 

"Yeah, no problem." You went to go wash your hands as the doorbell rang.

The wings finally arrived, everyone was happy to finally eat. He paused the movie and placed the takeout bag onto the coffee table. The smell of the sauces filled your nose, and had you drooling. 

"I got lemon pepper, and buffalo." He opened the individual containers, then took out another one, "Oh and fries." 

"Oooh, yes I'm here for both." You excitedly said. 

He served Nyasia's in a plastic plate, and firmly reminded her not to get anything on the couch and she complied. 

Erik walked over to the fridge, "I got sprite, Cîroc, ginger ale- oh shit, I still got some Henny." He said, inspecting the half empty bottle. "...And water." 

"I'll take a sprite." 

"Aight." He grabbed the can out, and filled a glass with ice and the drink. 

"Daddy, I want drink!" She called out, standing on the sofa.

"You gettin' apple juice, baby girl." 

"Okay." She said and plopped back down.

He got back with all three of your drinks, and he decided to go with sprite just like you. If Nyasia wasn't home, he'd go for a mix of alcohol and fruit juice.

Nyasia stared at Erik and your plate noticing that her plate didn't match. "Daddy, I want that one." She pointed at the buffalo wing. 

"Nah, it's too hot." 

"Pwease?" She begged.

"No, Nyasia."

Her shoulders dropped and she pouted, sticking her bottom lip out.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you." Erik gave her a wing with the least amount of sauce on it and she sparked up. He really did spoil her, but this would be a lesson. You thought it was a little cruel of him to do that.

She bit into the wing, relaxed for half a second then you both watched her face contort like she sucked a lemon. Her tongue was hanging out of her mouth as she fanned it, while complaining.

"Owwww!!" She screamed and cried at the same time. 

Erik gave her the cup of apple juice to cool it down, she drank it and still complained. She started crying for real, tears running down her cheeks. 

Erik gave in and lifted her into his chest, cradling her and hushing her. "It's alright, mama. You good, you good." He rocked her lightly, "That's why you gotta listen to me, right?" She nodded her head and hid her face in his chest again. You understood that he did it to teach her a lesson, but now she would never eat anything spicy again.

The first movie ended, both you and Erik thought it was absolute trash. He asked if you wanted to watch another or do something else, but you suggested another movie. It was dark outside, and Nyasia fell asleep. Somewhere during the second movie, Erik went to put Nyasia in her room. When he got back, he pulled you into his arms. 

"You look sleepy." He said.

"No, I'm good." You lied, but then you ended up yawning. 

You nodded off at some point, only waking up to the soft snores of Erik. He too fell asleep. You were lying down on his chest and his arms were wrapped around your waist. The clock on his wall read 10:34 pm. The movie had long ended.

You rose up and gently tapped his chest, "Erik?"

He shifted slightly and pulled you back in, "Five more minutes." His hoarse voice responded. It was very deep and sensual almost. 

"I gotta go." You tried to get off, but his grasp was so firm. You tapped him a bit more aggressively and he finally opened his eyes.

"Oh, uh. Sorry." He let go and allowed you to get off.

"It's okay. We should do this more often."

"Sleeping or you coming over?" He followed you to the front door.

"Both." You winked at him then laughed it off.

 He smirked and pulled you into a hug. "Drive safe."

A few weeks later, Erik sent you a video of Nyasia talking about you. It was about eleven in the morning and it sounded like he had just woken up. Nyasia's hair was all over the place, defying gravity as she jumped up and down, pushing her face into the camera.

"You said what?" He asked her.

"I like (y/n)!" She gave the camera a huge smile.

"For real? Why?" 

"She's really, really pretty!" She said and ran away to a corner of his room.

"Ny come back." He was laughing at her antics. The three-year-old ran back into his lap, "What else?"

"She's so nice!" 

"Yeah, what else?"

"Uhh..." She looked up at the ceiling, "Daddy always says he likes he-!"

"Aye, whoa now!" He covered her face with his comforter. "Ignore that." He turned the camera back onto himself, his dreads were still braided back from the last time you were there. "Anyway, Ny said she misses you, so you should come over again."

You already knew Erik was the one who missed you. Work had you too busy to stop by and visit so all you could do was text and call him. 

"Oh yeah, she's been bugging me about her hair. Can you come through later?"

So there you found yourself sitting on his couch with Nyasia in between your legs, braiding her hair into a bun. Luckily, she wasn't as tender headed as her father, but you were way more gentle with her. Erik watched you, and his daughter converse about anything. It was something he could definitely see himself getting use to.  

You caught him staring and gave him a grin, "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "It's looking good." He got up and sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and leaning his head onto your shoulder.

"Stop, you're tickling me." You laughed and tried to pull away, but he only drew you closer planting kisses on your neck. "I'm doing your daughter's hair, you better stop." You whispered. 

"You're almost done." He started sucking on your neck and chills ran through your body. 

"Daddy?" Nyasia tried to turn, but you held her in place. 

He unlatched from your neck, "Yes, Ny?"

"Can I have juice?" 

"Please."

"Pwease?" She repeated after him. 

"Sure, and what about you (y/n)?"

"Just water, please and thanks."

When he got up, you thought about his recent actions. It was strange, but neither of you really said anything about moving onto the second base, it kind of just happened over the course of you spending more time with him. You wouldn't say you were dating, but you were definitely more than 'just friends'. 

In the past, Erik's friends would've clowned him for actually being in love, but after his whole incident three years ago, they were quite happy for him. Yalani was a bit more skeptical, but happy for you nonetheless. 

When he got back, you finished Nyasia's hair, adding a bow hair clip.

"My baby girl looking fly as hell!" Erik gassed her up, taking multiple pictures on his phone. "Stunt on 'em den, okay! Okay!" You were amused by the father-daughter duo photoshoot. "Damn (y/n), you did that!"

"Thanks, E." You smiled at him, still laughing at his hype. 

"I gotta reward that ass later." He gave you a flirtatious look and you grinned. Nyasia stared at you both in confusion, then went over to the mirror to go an admire herself even more. 

"F-fuck, ohhh!" You cried out, bitting your bottom lip. Your nails raked across Erik's back as he rocked his hips into yours. 

"A-almost there." He breathed out, connecting his lips to yours. He had your toes curling, eyes watering and core shaking. You couldn't hide your moans if you tried, and you did, but he was working magic into your lower half. 

Nyasia was asleep in her room and he assured you that she wouldn't wake up. 

"Unnngghh- I- I- Ohhh, Erik!" You squeezed your eyes shut and held onto him tighter as he thrusted faster and deeper. "I'm gonna cum!" 

"Do it, ma. Cum all over this dick."

So you did, and almost blacked out too. His thrusts slowed down, hitting you deep each time. You whined, feeling overstimulated. Your legs felt like jello and you didn't know how much more you could actually handle. 

"E-Erik, I can't, it's too m-much. Ohhh." 

"Almost baby, ngh, just a bit more." He rocked into you a bit faster until he finally hit his climax, releasing into the condom. He collapsed onto you, allowing himself to go soft before pulling out of your warmth. He went into the bathroom to get stuff to clean you both off. 

He stared at you the entire time.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You keep staring at me and then say it's nothing. Tell me, E."

"I dunno, man. I been thinking about this for a while, but I really like having you around."

You turned on your side to get a better look at him and his physique, "So what does that mean?"

"You tryna be my girl yet or what? We been seeing each other for hella time now." His question came off as a demand and it made you laugh.

"That depends."

He raised an eyebrow as he slipped on his boxers, "Depends on what?"

"Are you ready to explain some things to me?"

"Like what?"

The patter of little footsteps caused you both to stop talking, the door creaked open. 

"D-Daddy?" Nyasia called out with a sniffle, tears were falling from her eyes.

"What's wrong, princess?" He picked her up into a hug.

"I-I had a bad d-dream." She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"It's alright," He placed her on the bed in between you both. 

You managed to slip your underwear back on and one of his t-shirts. She laid on his stomach and you lulled her into a sleep by rubbing circles onto her back. Her sniffles eventually turned into soft snores, her tears ran down Erik's chest and onto the bed sheets.

You snuggled closer to Erik's body, "I guess you want an explanation on her?" He suddenly asked and you nodded.

"Well... I was messing around a lot with different girls. Not giving a fuck about anything or anyone. When I met her mom, I was still mad at the world and my family. She found out she was pregnant right before I left to go to Wakanda... I was mad." He sighed, "I wasn't ready to be no damn father. But eventually, I decided to go see them. I didn't want my first kid to grow up how I did."

"So what happened to her mom?" You looked up at him, but his eyes were empty.

"...She was murdered by her crazy ass ex." 

You gasped, "I'm so sorry."

"Nah, she protected Ny... Son of a bitch was sending shots every where. I tried to stop him, but I wasn't thinking straight. Then I almost lost my daughter too... Her family tried to take her away from me, and blame me for Violet's death. The crazy thing is, I blamed myself too, but I didn't feel bad about it either." He shook his head, "But I would never let them take her away from me. She was all I had..."

The three-year-old shifted, holding onto him with a firm grasp. He rubbed her back calmingly. 

"I honestly don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for her... She taught me how to love and care for someone other than myself. I'd probably destroy the whole world if she ever asked me to." Erik smiled at Nyasia then looked at you with that same look he gave you earlier.

"She does deserve the world." You shared his smile. 

"And she deserves a mother too." His words made your heart drop. "Besides, she really likes you and I do too."

You raised an eyebrow and inched closer to his lips, "You like me or you love me?"

"I love you." Nyasia mumbled, snuggling closer to you both. 

"I thought you was sleep." Erik said, narrowing his eyes. He waited for a response but didn't get one. 

You giggled and stared him in the eyes, "So?"

"So..."

"What's your answer? Do you love me or like me?"

"Hold that thought." He got off the bed and quietly went to put Nyasia back into her room. When he came back, he had that same mischievous smirk on his face, "How bout I show you the answer instead." He said, dragging you by the ankles to the edge of the bed. He stripped and pulled your panties off, "Maybe we can both get an answer tonight."

Yup, love. It was definitely love...

WOW! I say this every time, but this was definitely my longest one-shot ever!!! 11K + words!!! 

I'll definitely be writing more lighter and happier Dadmonger fics in the future, this one was quite serious.

Thanks for reading!

(Start/Finish: December 10-12, 2018) 

[tangledinmdzs]

Totally don't gotta do this if you don't want to, but any MDZS characters with the best friend reader "secretly" watching over them on a date? They got the whole dumb mustache and all, and surprisingly don't get noticed until the reader makes texts them like "bro eat your food" - "turn around" or something like that? Just a funny idea I had in my head lolol

this is so cute! i really love this and played around with your ideas; hope you enjoy it; i’m also writing for characters, that i haven’t really had the chance to write much for yet.

here’s to your request~

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

Wei Wuxian

if Wei Wuxian had been a little bit more enamored with Lan Wangji, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed it

but c’mon, you’re wearing a whole mustache for god’s sakes

and it wasn’t even like a normal one 

or a decent one (like Nie Mingjue’s)

it was a mustache that you’d see on Mr. Potatohead (Toy Story)

and honestly, even with any disguise Wei Wuxian could tell that it was you in a blink of an eye

the moment that he sees you, you hide behind the menu quickly, the most obvious giveaway in your ‘stealth mission’

Wei Wuxian laughs at himself, stares down at the cleared table from when he had just ordered

Lan Wangji looks up at him, a quiet inquisitive look that Wei Ying knows how to read without needing to look too closely

“my friend cares too much,” Wei Wuxian replies, both teasingly but also genuinely happy

because only you would care for him this much 

to go to the extent of following him around to see if Lan Wangji was an alright guy

and certainly, Lan Wangji was a more than alright guy

but having you there, sneaking around to look out for him, made Wei Ying feel even better

“give me a minute,” Wei Ying tells his date before reaching for his phone and typing out a message

a moment later, across the restaurant, your own phone lights up with a notification

best idiot: remember to take some nice candid photos of our date for insta! love ya

you’re embarrassed that your cover is blown (so much for the mustache)

and a bit startled

but when you look up, meet eyes with your best friend a few tables away

you get a wink

and you know it’s alright

Jiang Cheng

Jiang Cheng chokes on his water immediately at the sight

“oh Jiang Cheng, are you okay?” his date asks delicately, reaching for a napkin to wipe the water that dribbled down his nice shirt

“fine, i’m fine,” Jiang Cheng replies, red coloring his face as he adverted his eyes

it wasn’t good to judge people by appearance

but certainly

this person sitting a booth away didn’t care

a weird, old century top hat, fuzzy sweater vest, and a mustache falling off of their face-

wait

Jiang Cheng does a double take as his date talks on and on about their current medical school stories, or whatever it is

and Jiang Cheng has 20/20 vision, so his eyes can’t fool him

it’s definitely you

“y/n” Jiang Cheng mumbles, tiredly under his breath

“what’s that?” his date asks, in the middle of retelling and Jiang Cheng waves it off

“it’s fine, continue; how was it like post-op?” Jiang Cheng reverts and his date seems egocentric enough to go along with it

Jiang Cheng messages you under the table

me: why are you here? idiot ★彡: no i’m not me: do you think i’m stupid?

Jiang Cheng waits a bit and is a little offended that the answer he gets from you is a ‘yes’

idiot ★彡: anyways, you gotta do a better job at paying attention, or else your date is gonna be annoyed

almost as if you had jinxed him, Jiang Cheng looks up from his phone just to be caught red-handed by his date, unamused

“am i wasting your time?” his date asks

“no no, work just keeps me at times,” Jiang Cheng says, glances over his date’s shoulder to catch you holding your mustache and stuffing a piece of spaghetti into your mouth

Jiang Cheng sighs, lets you be

even though he knows you’re going to make fun of him later

Nie Huaisang

bffl ★彡: remember to relax bro ★彡

Huaisang smiles down at his phone, then mildly laughs

anxiously

because how could anyone be relaxed on a first date

bffl ★彡:  i can tell how fast your leg is shaking from my house, relax, who wouldn’t love you?

Huaisang wants to think that too

but he’s nearing the edge of his late 20s

and he still

stil!!

hasn’t really had a relationship that lasted more than a few months

me: wish me luck y/n bffl ★彡: you know i’m always the lucky one :D

and right after the text is sent, the doorbell of the restaurant rings

and the date commences

luck seems to be on his side tonight 

because whenever he looks down at his silent phone on his lap, your reminders of little things come to him at just the right moment 

like which fork to use when eating the salad

and when to act coy or cutesy and laugh into his hand a certain way

and it makes the date go well

that genuinely, Nie Huaisang feels a connection, some mild spark in him

it’s small

but it’s there

and it surprises him

that’s his first surprise

his second one

is when he’s being escorted by his date out of the restaurant and catches a very odd sight of a person following him

at first he doesn’t believe it

but then

he catches the way that a strand of you h/c falls out from under a very tight cap

and the ridiculous trench coat 

and also the timely way your advice had come in tonight

and he puts it together way too easily

“thank you so much for tonight,” Huaisang quickly averts before his date can ask why they were being followed by a person in a trench coat and a falling stick on mustache

though he will definitely thank YOU later when he gets home

Wen Ning

bestie ★彡: don’t sit too tightly it’s not an interview ★彡

Wen Ning startles at the notification on his phone

he fixes his posture more out of surprise than anything

he looks around, scanning the tables and seats

though nothing seems out of place

bestie ★彡: relax, you look like you’re about to pee yourself

Wen Ning takes a deep breath, reaches to text you back while he waits for his date to arrive

me: how do you know what i’m feeling? bestie ★彡:  i’m your bestest best friend in the world; it’s the vibes

but also, anyone can tell you’re anxious, look at that palm sweat

Wen Ning sighs, putting his phone down and wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans

luckily, it’s then that his date arrives and all is forgotten in the moment 

and the date goes pretty well

your tips help him get through most of the date intact

and honestly he’s grateful

he doesn’t understand how you can know exactly what he’s feeling and doing

he kinda thinks you have a tracker on him

but then

when the night ends,

and he’s just leading his date out to the door, he walks past a table and catches a person in a trench coat, mustache

and a glimmering opal phone case

your phone case

you confirm his suspicions by looking up, giving a little nod

and even though, you’re a little over the top

he appreciates it

[joneryskingdom]

He is stil sleeping when she awakens, sunlight shining through the white curtains of their canopy. Buried in the pillows, his curls a dark mess emerging from that immaculate sea of linen. He’s snoring, her sweet Jon, making sounds similar to the ones of a wolf in his den.

Dany stirs, washing away all the sleepiness. Near her, Ghost welcome the new day and his mistress, waving happily his long white tail.

«Good morning Ghost.» she says, petting him, caressing him between his fluffy albino ears. «Have you sleep well? Should we verified how is Jon today? Mmh?»

He’s still burning, from what she can tell by a kiss on his forehead. Pale, dark half moons of sleeplessness and exhaustion marking his eyes, drooling on the pillow. Luckily, the fever is not dangerously high, but she has to be careful. He particularly has to be careful with his body, not stressing himself too much.

Resting all the morning will heal him a bit, Dany thinks, kissing his warm forehead another time. He definitely needs it.

She will call Sam later for a visit, her husband’s health is important.

And the one of our little new entry too, she reminds herself, laying an hand on the cloister of flesh in which her, their, new baby dragon is growing.

A boy or a girl? Prince or princess? Only time will tell...

Around the breakfast table, the baby dragon’s siblings are chatting, an increasingly storm of discussions, clawing Daenerys’ ears. Any nausea hasn’t touching her yet, instead she’s hungry.

For her children kisses, for Jon’s healing, for this new babe. She cannot wait to hold him or her in her arms. And Jon! Jon’s reaction! She’s not sure he had listened last night, he was asleep after all. Well, today, if the Gods are kind, she would tell him. “You have to commission another cradle” or “I have a gift for you, close your eyes and touch me”.

An effect phrase, she wants him to be surprised.

Babe number eight, she counts, looking Aelionor eating her bacon in her exquisite regal manners - her septa is all praises for her - and the twins arguing over the last lemon cake remained on the silver tray a servant is holding. Daeron and Alysanne are identical, except for their sex.

Delivered on Dragonstone, just like her taciturn Daenys. She suspects there is a tribute in her name, Jon’s work behind it, not only an homage to the Dreamer and Dragonstone itself, the castle of their love, before and after their reunion beyond the Wall. Daenys and Daenerys, so phonetically similar after all.

The toddler is splashing her mush, seated in her high chair. Quiet, as always, Daenys, at two, doesn’t speak much, sometimes she doesn’t speak at all, tossing some High Valyrian words here and there. Instead, the septas who manage the nursery said she stare intensely at the flames roaring in the braziers and at the candles, that she listens fervently at the nighttime prayers of her brothers and sisters.

They were worried, her and Jon, after her first birthday and the last year has been a carousel of maesters and experts visiting their lovely girl, trying to obtain something more than the rare “Pa-pa” and “Mamma” or “Kepa” and “Muña”. She isn’t mute, they all have reassured the monarchs, telling them what their already know.

«Mama.» Rhaella draws her from her thoughts.

«Yes my dear?»

«It is true that beyond the Wall there mammoths? Dada says they are legends, he claims of having read it in a book.»

Daeron, bookworm since babyhood.

«Because it’s true!» Daeron replied in a lunatic rage. «It was in the library.»

«Mama’s and Papa’s library.» Jaehaerys, basically a clone of Jon, a skinny rascal, black curls and grey eyes and all. «I saw you...»

«He wasn’t stealing from it Mama I swear!» Daeron says. «I’m saying the truth. Of course, you have so many books...»

Aemon laughs. «You will marry a book at this point, mister know-it-all!»

«I didn’t saw any mammoth when I was with Papa beyond the wall my sweethearts.» Dany says. «But I have to tell you something.»

Silence. All pairs of eyes are on her.

«It’s a segret remember! Only I can I tell Papa about this.» She takes a deep breath. «Soon you will have a new baby brother or sister!»

Sam had examined her, but by this time she knows all the symptoms.

«You are preg-prenan-» Jae stumbles on the right word. «What was that?»

«Pregnant.» Daeron corrects him. «It means Mama has a baby inside her belly, but now the baby is small, like a peanut, right Mama?»

«Yes my dear sweetie, like a seed.»

Daenys suddenly exclaims: «Mammú!»

«A mammoth?» Rhaella jumps from her chair. «Have you seen a mammoth little sis?»

«Mammú» One finger is in her mouth, the other indicates at the entrance.

«Daenys saw a mammoth Mama!» Aemon joins his sister and partner in crime.

She already knows what mammoth and with a funny grin she says: «Well, I think you should chase him then.»

«Haunting party!» Rhaella announced.

And suddenly all the children are on Jon, laughing and climbing on him, on his marvelous and furry night robe, shouting, all excited. Pearls of laughter flourish from their mouth, all are playing with their papa, pretending he’s a giant mammoth.

And, judging by the noises he makes, he is playing along.

«You have caught me!» He surrenders, kneeling, faking his end. «Aaargh! All these children have caught me! Help!»

«Pups.» Dany calls them. «Out for a minute please, me and Papa have to talk alone.»

The door close, Jon comes to her.

«I’m hungry, what there is here, with which I could break my fast?»

«You should be in bed.» Dany hide her disappointment. «Resting.»

«I’m not tired, I told you.» He sits beside her. «And I have work to do.»

«Not today or tomorrow. Resting is all you will have to do. Sam will come soon, to visit you.»

«I’m not sick Dany.» he grumbles.

«You have a fever.»

«And with it? Being a little feverish means I am overworked?»

«Yes, my northerner fool.» They exchange a tender kiss. «Your health is well regarded by me. But, anyway...» she looks at time. «I have something to share with you.»

He is suddenly serious. «It is something-»

«Nothing bad my Dragonwolf, just that... do we have any baby clothes left?»

He doesn’t say anything and she is scares for his reaction. Didn’t he like the news?

«D-Do you m-mean you are...»

«Aye.» she teases him, using his pronunciation. «I am with child.»

Jon embraces her, it’s a possessive, protective and secluded embrace. Her nest, her house with the red door.

«It’s beautiful Dany, really beautiful... I-I’m... gods... another babe on they way... we’re fast at making them.» he jokes, caressing her belly. «Aren’t we?»

«I want many more Jon, many, many more.»

«A Red Keep full of squealing babes.»

«Yes.» she sniffles. «Isn’t a beautiful dream?»

«It will became real Dany.» His other hand is on her cheek. «I promise.»

He then talk to her belly, yes, he talks.

«Hey buddy, you don’t know me yet but I’m your Papa and I love you so much, both me and you Mama. So treat her well, understood?»

[mhento]

Jaehyun - Distortion

Genre : college!au || angst, fluff, smut

Paring: Jaehyun x female!reader

Word count: 8,6k

Warning: swearing, graphic smut/ sexual themes, mentioning of alcohol

Summary: Your life drastically changed after you met the boyfriend of your friend Carly and his friends.

A/N: I post this after one or two years in my drafts. So hope you like it and remember I did not re-read this, so there may be some grammar mistakes.

Lmao I suck at descriptions. So please don’t mind my nonsense I wrote there. Hope you have fun reading this. 😊💕 @bunniglow

It was a usual day in college. You were seated in the front row of the lecture hall. There wasn't much to say about you. You were just an ordinary girl. Well you heard other people say you were a nerd but that wasn't really you. They said those things because you always sat in the front row, hadn't a lot of friends and sat in the library when you weren't at your apartment or at your workplace.

You were a barista in a cafe near your college. Most of the people who came to get a drink were students. At first you found it good because they weren't much people who had a huge age gap. But after some time it got really annoying. Most of the people who ordered were rude. They had an attitude that made you ponder how they were treated at home to be this disrespectful. Customers that weren't students were nice, sometimes too nice. You hadn't anything against talking with a customer when you had time but you definitely were against their flirting attempts. The only thing they created was uncomfortableness. So you rushed to get them out of your view which was kind of hard sometimes. Overall you didn't like your job much but it was your only source of money and they paid well, so you didn't want to complain.

The things students were thinking about you were false prejudices. You sat in the front row because you didn't want to see other students in front of you. You wanted to have the least contact with them. The front row could secure you this. You weren't afraid of others but you just simply hadn't any motivation to talk to any person about things you considered as indifferent. This was also the reason why you had barely friends. The only friend you had was a girl you met on your first day in your first semester who introduced herself as Charlotte or Charly as she wants to be called like this.You actually didn't want to talk to her at first but she was so persistent that in the end you gave in. After your first talk with her you learned that she was also your roommate. You couldn't have been happier. You had guessed you would get the worst roommate.

She definitely wasn't the best roomate. She was the reason why you spent so little time in the apartment. She had a boyfriend and whenever he came over you were out of view after you learned it the hard way. The first time you thought it would be okay to sit in your room and learn for the upcoming exams but you were proven wrong. You didn't know they both would be this loud. So you had to take your earphones in. Even with the music in full volume, you couldn't veneer their voices. So you gave up and walked out of the door. Since then you avoided being in the apartment when he was present. But he was there most of the time so you just had the library as an escape.

As you sat in the front row and draw on the cover of your block, gasped could be heard. So you lifted your head to see what made people so shocked. A male student stood in the door frame and he looked like a rich kid who gets spoiled from his parents frequently. He had a ripped blue jeans and a grey polo shirt with a denim jacket over on. His shoes were from an expensive sport label. They were black with a dark blue hashtag on the sides. He had a watch on that was way more expensive than anything that belonged to you. His hair which was dark brown was styled back. He looked through the rows and halted when he saw you. He locked eyes with you and a small smile appeared on his handsome face before he started to walk to the back row.

Charly suddenly came from behind you and sat down next to you. You didn't question her why she was sitting behind you but you were definitely confused.

"Oh my gosh Y/N. He looked at you and he even smiled. You're soooo lucky." Your friend said with excitement and a huge smile on her face.

"What? Whom are you referring to?"

"Girl are you serious?" She deadpanned. "Jung Jaehyun just looked at you. Fucking Jung Jaehyun."

"Jung who? Who is this?"

Her smile dropped and she seemed to get a little annoyed.

"Jung Jaehyun. The hot guy that smiled at you like a minute ago." When she saw that you were still a little confused she added. "You know, the guy with the expensive clothes on."

"Ohh you mean the rich kid. Ahh yeah uhm what's with him? He can look at anybody he wants to. Maybe he saw something on my face or so."

She gave you a disapproving look but before she could speak again the professor came and the lecture began.

Not even five minutes into the lecture and you were getting bored. You just wanted to sleep. But this didn't seem like a good idea when you were in front of the prof. You didn't want him to think his lecture was uninteresting so you came to the conclusion to just continue your drawing.

When it finally ended you were the first out of the hall and went straight to the cafeteria. You were starving so much because you couldn't get to eat in the morning. You set an alarm on your phone and went to sleep but you forgot to charge your phone over the night. So the battery of your phone died and with that your alarm wasn't going to give any tone. You were woken up by Charly in the morning. She was already dressed and ate something. She thought you were already gone but heard you mumbling something so she came to wake you. You were truly thankful to her. If she wasn't there, you would have been in trouble.

You were the first to arrive in the cafeteria. The lady behind the counter already knew what you were going to buy. In the time you were walking to the counter, the old lady already had your order finished.

"Y/N nice to see you again. You weren't here for quiet a time." The old lady kinda made a pouting face and that brought both of you to laugh.

"I'm sorry. I was just kinda busy. But I promise I'll be here more often in the future. And thank you for finishing it up before I even arrived." You gave her a thumbs up and as you saw the people gathering in the cafeteria you quickly said your leave and made your way to the exit.

But before you left you saw Jaehyun shortly looking at you. You didn't gave it much of a thought but it stil didn't go unnoticed.

You sat on the rooftop and waited for Charly. For the first time she said she would bring her boyfriend with her. You didn't know what to say and you were kind of nervous.

You bit in your salami sandwich and enjoyed the view. You liked the rooftop a lot. You found yourself always interested in your surrounding. You wanted to take pictures of old houses or just a street full of people in the shopping area. The look down from the roof was facinating everytime you went there. The people going to their different lectures. You could already tell who was in his first semester and who wasn't. The people in their first semesters were kind of confused where they had to go. When you thought back to the time when you were in your first semester it was the same for you. Even after half a year you didn't knew what building you had to enter. A good thing was that Charly was there for you. And it was kind of strange that she always knew where they had to go. But you didn't complain.

Loud voices brought you back to reality. Even if Charly was coming with her boyfriend, they were too many voices...too many male voices. You turned around and saw your friend with 5 guys around her.

When she saw you looking at her she greeted you. The guys stopped talking and the attention was now on you. They were all really good looking and also had expensive things on. You recognized Jaehyun among them.

The first person that talked was a really tall guy. He had black hair and his arm was around Charly's waist. So he had to be her boyfriend or other ways it would have been odd. "Hey, I'm Johnny. I'm Charly's boyfriend. Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you." He said smiling.

Charly prickled him in the side. She rolled her eyes at him and then turned back to you. "He says it like it was something bad we talked about. But dont worry, we just talked about good things." She winked at you and you couldn't contain a laugh.

"It's fine. I don't even know what you could say about me. I mean, I'm not that interesting." You said with a shrug but still with a smile plastered on your face. If Jaehyun wouldn't stand next to Johnny, you would've missed the frown on his face. It didn't last long and that made unsure. Maybe you just imagined it?

The next to speak was a guy with red hair. He wasn't as tall as Johnny but taller than you. You didn't know why but he gave you the feeling as if he was the leader of the clique. Could you say leader? But like the person that arranged most of the meetings outside the college. "I'm Taeyong. Nice to meet you." He was really polite as he gave you his hand to shake. "I mean I don't know if you already know my name but I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you too." You said with a slighty timid attitude.

You didn't know why you were shy all of a sudden. But this was your first time to speak to so many people. It made you nervous as hell. You just didn't know why this feeling came only now.

A guy with dark hair spoke next. He kind of reminded you of a bunny. A really cute bunny to that. "I'm Doyoung." He came and gave you a hug. It took you off guard and you seemed to look as surprised as you felt because Doyoung apologized as soon as he saw your face. "I'm always like this. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable." "What? No you didn't made me feel uncomfortable. I was just surprised. That's all. No need to apologize for your kindness." You briskly responded. This time you saw Jaehyun lifting an eyebrow at you. You quickly looked away from him and at ten only person you dodmt know the name of yet.

He didn't look like the other guys but still handsome. Your gut feeling was right and he introduced himself as Yuta. He came from Japan.

"Oh really you're from Japan? That's cool. I've always wanted to go there but I didn't had enough time or money to do that." You exclaimed happily.

"Hey if you ever go there just message me on Instagram and I'll give you a tour around." You nodded and smiled at this.

This caused an unhappy look on Jaehyun's face and you weren't sure anymore if you even wanted to be introduced to him. In this short time you saw him. He looked more pissed than happy. Didn't he smile at you hours ago? Why would he be like this then?

Even after a moment of silence and all eyes on Jaehyun, he hadn't said anything. Just looked at you. Which pissed you more off. As everyone could see the tension between you two, Taeyong decided to speak up. "So uhm this is Jaehyun. Well normally he isn't like this and actually the most hyper of us but today he seems off." Jaehyun shot a glare at Taeyong but still remained silent.

After uncomfortable silence you all decided to talk about useless stuff. You actually got really good along with Yuta and Doyoung. Between your conversations with them you felt your eyes always looking at Jaehyun. Even if he didn't say a word to you till now, he did seem to wake your interests. But you just shrugged it off as he didn't show any signs.

You learned a whole lot about them. They are called RSB which means 'Rich Since Birth'. Out of their pronunciation you knew they didn't like that name. A lot of people think they got to this university just because of money and that their grades are bought. They were also known as the prettiest group of friends on campus. Despite the number of people that hated them, they were a lot more that liked them. Liked them way too much. They got a lot of love confessions. Heck how old were the people who confessed? They weren't in high school anymore. They should know better. You never really understood people who confessed their love to someone who they barely knew.

You exchanged numbers with almost everyone there. Jaehyun was the only person you didn't feel to get quite along with and this wasn't how you wished it would be. He didn't even say bye to you and just disappeared from your view.

You said your goodbye to everyone else and went to your lecture. It was the first time you weren't one of the first people to arrive but one of the last. Thus there wasn't a seat available in the front row. You had to go to the middle. At first you felt uncomfortable but it got better with time. You looked around and saw Jaehyun in the front row. You probably scoffed too loud and also glared too obviously at Jaehyun as everyone was now looking at you two. He seemed to notice the unwanted attention on him and turned around to see you glaring at him. He still had this annoying look and this made you seemingly insecure as you took your back and exit the room right before the prof came.

For the rest of the day you just sat on your bed and read a book. You didn't really care about what you read and you also didn't concentrate while you read but you needed something to bring you on other thoughts. Tomorrow would be more miserable than today because you knew most of the people were going to talk about you and Jaehyun and what ifs could be between you two.

When Carly arrived she also asked you holes in your stomach. You said that you never saw him in the front row before and just on the day you couldn't sit in the front he sits there. Like he was provoking you. She responded, you thought too much into it and it probably wasn't on purpose. Moreover it was just a seat so what was the problem? And she was right. What was your problem to even begin with?

After almost a week the rumors about you didn't stop. You thought that people would have been bored after not being fed with more stuff but you were wrong. It was Jaehyun everyone was talking about. So this couldn't last just one week. It had to be longer and it annoyed you a lot. Not to your surprise Jaehyun ignored you. When he didn't ignore you he sent you glares over the room. You knew it was your fault but what could you do? The damage was wrought. The rumors were from Y/N just wanted attention from him to Y/N is pregnant with Jaehyun's child. Sometimes you laughed about their silliness but you were also shocked to what extent people thought of you. How you just were after his money or other stuff. Did people even thought before they talked?

You still held your contact with the other boys. They weren't about what you did but they found it hilarious. When you sat on the rooftop to tell them what happened they all laughed their asses off telling you, you did great. You didn't even wanted to understand what they meant with you doing great.

After like another month the rumors kind of shut down. They weren't completely eradicated but less than weeks ago.

You were on your way to the rooftop when Jaehyun wrote in the group chat you all decided to open a few weeks ago. You didn't even need to look to say what he wrote. The only thing he always wrote was that he didn't come to the rooftop.

You already heard a lot of people talking on the rooftop. You squinted your eyes as soon as you walked out of the door. The sun beamed in your face so you had to take a hand to cover your eyes. To your surprise Jaehyun was sitting there and chatting with the others.

You took out your phone and read the message he wrote in the group chat.

Today I'm coming to the roof - boy who always glares👀 (11:56am)

You felt your phone being taken away from Doyoung. Even with trying, you couldn't hold a grasp on your phone. "Ohhhh guys, do you know how Y/N saved Jaehyun in her contact list?" Everyone shoke their head and Doyoung jumped around like a hyper pony. "Doyoung, I warn you. Shut the fuck up and give me my phone back." You glared at him and the angry voice was audible. But Doyoung just shoke his head. "She saved him as boy who always glares. She even has two eyes emojis behind this."

Everyone laughed expect you and Jaehyun. You looked panicked at him and he seemed happy. He had a huge smile on his face.

You went to Doyoung and ripped your phone out of his hands. You glared at him one last time before you walked to the others and sat down.

Everyone seemed to have calmed down. So Jaehyun took the opportunity to speak first. "You all know Sicheng right? He's holding a party on Friday and he ask me if I could bring some of my friends."

"Uhhh Sicheng is holding a party? I'm definitely in." Said Yuta with a grin. He looked happier than you've seen him before. Did he had a thing for Sicheng?

You leaned in to Carly and hold a hand in front of your mouth before you whispered to her. "Who is Sicheng?"

"He's also in the clique. You just don't see him often."

"Ah Jaehyun I assume your also in for it." After Jaehyun nodded Doyoung added "So why do we all not just meet up at the party. A little fun can't damage, right?" Jaehyun looked at you and for the first time in weeks you didn't saw him glare at you or anything. He actually had a small smile on his lips which had you smiling unconscious. You weren't sure of what to say to the offer but Charly already agreed for you.

It was Friday evening and you were getting ready for the party. Charly put make up on for you.

When you were in high school you actually wanted to do stuff like this. But you gave up after months of trying. Whenever you made yourself pretty in your eyes and went to your parents they said you looked like a clown or something.

"Ok, I'm finished. You look amazing Y/N." Carly praised herself. You stood in front of a mirror. You put on a short black dress. You didn't have a lot of dresses in your wardrobe and this was the best and expensive looking, so you decided fot this one.

On the way to Sicheng's home ,where the party was on going, you kinda felt nervous again. You weren't much of a party type. Your bed was much more comfortable than a drunk people who collided with you. But Charly pleaded you the whole week to come with her. It wouldn't be fun without you. So you gave in.

When Sicheng's house was in sight you already saw a lot of drunk people in his dooryard. It wasn't even past 9pm and here you were struggling to even come to his front door because a dude had to fall in front of you and nearly spelled all of his drink on you. Thanks to Carly this didn't happen. She pulled you back a little and the red cup landed in front of your shoes. Due to smell the cup had to have vodka in it.

Finally inside it wasn't better. More drunk people could be seen. The only difference was that they also danced awfully to the music. They hadn't any rhythm to the beat but what do you expect from intoxicated students.

Suddenly a guy came to your side. He was tall and looked like someone who would spent his time with the " RSB " kids since his clothing looked just as expensive as from Jaehyun. But you couldn't deny that he still looked pretty handsome. The only thing didn't matching was that he was here. He looked too cute to even come to this party. So what was he doing here?

"Hey I'm Sicheng. I assume you're Y/N." Your eyes almost fell out from your staring. He was the person who throw the party. He looked like an introverted person and not someone with so many connections. Your prejudice was again wrong.

You felt Carly pinching your waist. Sicheng looked amused by you and you finally realized you just stared at him and not even said a single word. It would be too awkward to say anything now and to your relief Sicheng spoke again. "Well since Carly already told me about you, you don't have to introduce yourself, I guess. Do you two want to come with me to the basement? The others are already there. We play billiards. I'm not that good so I came up to look if anything is damaged." He smiled at the both of you and Carly dragged you with her to the basement.

Sicheng disappeared briefly in the kitchen and came back with three red cups. You rather didn't plan on drinking anything because you knew you hadn't the best alcohol tolerance. Nonetheless you accepted the cup amd followed both downstairs. The landing was small and it wasn't really illuminated.

The room was large. The walls were black which let the room seem smaller than he actually was. Paintings were on two walls. One was yellow with white and black mixed in it and the other showed a boy with his back looking. He sat on a stone and around him was water. It seemed like the stone was his only lifeboat. Further away in the background you could see a forest. It definitely didn't look appealing. The forest was dark green mixed with black.

Although it was the basement it had a big window. You could see the garden through the window. The garden was also large. The trees were organized after their length. There was a path between the trees that led to a shed. Other than this there was also a big pool were a lot of people were crowded around.

Back in the room was a billiard table and Yuta played against Taeyong. Taeyong was in lead. There was also a couch were Doyoung, Johnny, Carly and Sicheng sat. You didn't notice the two left your side. A table was in front of the couch and chaird were placed around the table. Even though most of the people were here, Jaehyun was missing. This made you a little disappointed. You were looking kinda forward to see him.

Your best option was to go to the others on the couch. Once you settled down Johnny suggested to play truth or dare. You weren't really in the mood for it but what exactly could go wrong. Yuta and Taeyong also gathered around the table and Doyoung placed an empty bottle in the middle of the table. The chair to your left wasn't occupied. You took the opportunity and ask where Jaehyun was. "We actually don't know. He was here a while ago and suddenly he was gone. He probably is upstairs kissing with some chick." This earned Johnny a lot of glares from the other boys and Carly kicked him. Johnny just looked questionable at the others. Sicheng whispered something into Johnny's ear and he looked apologetic at you. Now it was your turn to look confused. Taeyong opened his mouth to say something when the door opened and revealed Jaehyun. He sat down on the only chair that was left and drunk his alcohol mix. Nobody asked him where he was and instead Taeyong spun the bottle.

It stopped at Yuta and he chose dare. Doyoung dared him to call Mark and confess to him his love for Sicheng. Taeyong who sat on your right told you who Mark was. He was also part of the clique but a semester under them. They knew him since middle school. The phone ringing stopped Taeyong from speaking more. After the fifth ring Mark accepted the call. The whole thing was really funny because Mark had to be sleeping already as his answers made no sense. He wished the new couple congratulations although Yuta only talked about his love for Sicheng and not returned love.

Yuta spun the bottle and this time it stopped at Jaehyun. He chose truth. "Do you have someone who you like?" Doyoung briskly asked. Jaehyun stiffened for a moment before his eyes met yours and he seemed to get more nervous. He eventually looked back at Doyoung. "Yeah I do have someone." A lot of oohhhs could be heard and Johnny asked who it was but Jaehyun didn't spell any tea.

You felt Jaehyun's glimpse on you again but you decided to ignore it. You began to get nervous. Jaehyun spun the bottle and oh how predictably. It stopped at you. If you chose truth, you would have become a question like Jaehyun. You decided for dare which was the worse decision.

As the rounds before Doyoung talked. "I dare you to kiss the person to your left." You couldn't believe this. Why did it had to be Jaehyun? You didn't dare to look at him. Instead you looked around and nobody was really shocked about the statement expect you and Jaehyun. You slowly turned your head to your left and locked eyes with him. He seemed as nervous as you. You hesitated but you moved forward to him. You halted in front of his face. Your noses were touching, never breaking eye contact. Your heart beat a lot faster than you wanted and you were sure he could hear it from his position. As you appeared to not move forward anymore, he took the chance and placed his lips in yours. You closed your eyes. He moved slowly and you took up with his pace. He leaned back and you opened your eyes to see shocked faces of the others. You looked back at him and saw him trying to conceal a smile which brought a small smile to creep up on your face.

"Wow. I never thought you would really do this." Doyoung said as shaken as he looked. You took the first sip of your drink and it soured your throat.

You all didn't speak about this and just moved on to continue your game. After some time you excused yourself to get you a new drink. You weren't drunk but definitely a little tipsy.

You made your way out of the door and proceeded your way up the stairs. As you almost arrived upstairs a hand touched your shoulder. You turned around and saw Jaehyun behold you. His eyes were dark and it made him even more handsome. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips as he came closer and briefly kissed you on the lips, just to examine your expression. When you didn't move away or anything, he kissed you again. This time deeper than in the game. His lips were soft as they moved against your own. He pushed you against the wall and your hands moved upwards his torso and around his neck. The feeling of his hands on your side sending chills through your body. One of his hands moved to your back and then squeezed lightly your butt. A moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Jaehyun grunted at this.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this? I couldn't hold it in anymore. Why do you have to wear this short dress? It looks so fucking good on you." He said pressing you more against the wall. He kissed your jaw down to your neck and sucked till purple bruises began to form. He moved to your ear and nibbled at it. This let another moan escape as you moved your head back which gave him more access to your neck. Your leg moved around his and you felt a bulge touch the space between your legs. You felt yourself getting more wet.

"Hey what do you think about getting in one of the rooms upstairs?" He said in between kisses. You stopped and looked at him. "Isn't this Sicheng's house? Can we really do it?" You asked a little nervous because the bulge was driving you crazy and you actually couldn't really wait anymore. "It's no problem. We actually kind of a share the house."

So you two went upstairs in a room that also had his walls painted in a dark color. You couldn't really make your surrounding out since you were to busy undressing and then exploring Jaehyun's body.

He led you to the bed and laid you down, so he could hover over you. He undressed you whilst you slid your fingers along his abs. When he was done he kissed you from your lips down to your stomach. Every now and then he left hickeys on your skin. You whimpered everytime he touched your inner thighs with his fingers. He stroke your inner thighs slowly upwards till he was on your core. His mouth came in contact with your ear as he whispered. "You're so wet for me babe. I love how you react to every touch I make." His voice was deep as he pinched your left breast. You whimpered again and goosebumps were making its way down your arms. You arched your back when he suddenly inserted a finger. He nibbled on your right breast and massaged the other with his hand that wasn't occupied with your lower body. After little time he inserted the next finger. You couldn't handle all of this anymore and you felt a bunch forming in your stomach. "Jaehyun...I-" you couldn't finish your sentence. Jaehyun quickened his pace with his fingers and his tongue. It didn't need much and you road of your orgasm. He maintained eye contact while he went down and licked all your juice up.

When you came down from your high, Jaehyun opened a drawer next to the bed and fetched a condom. "You okay babe? You can take more?" He asked while he looked back at you. His dark eyes showed sincerity. Instead of just answering you kissed him passionately and one hand wandered down his stomach to his cock. You wrapped your hands around it and pumped a few times. He groaned and let his head roll back. His eyes closed as he whispered sweet nothings in the air. He stopped your hand movements and slipped the condom over his cock. He positioned himself in front of your entrance and slid without a warning inside. You cried out and felt a single tear roll down your cheek. He swiped it away and kissed your cheeks. He waited till you were ready to take more of him. He began with a slow pace and from time to time he quickened it. You kissed his jaw down to his neck. You started to suck at his neck and he moaned at the feeling of your lips on his skin. "Jaehyun baby...I think I'm-" "No wait just a little bit more okay?" You nodded along. His movements became loppier and you knew he was also close. He kissed you sloppily and you moaned against his lips when you road off your next climax. Jaehyun still pumped a few times into you before he also reached his high.

He collapsed on you and you two breathed heavily. You could feel his breath on your neck. He slipped off his condom and you laid your head on his chest. He swung his arm around your middle and you two fall asleep.

You woke up from the feeling of a body that pulled you closer. The person hid his face in the crock of your neck. You heard a knock on the door. "Jaehyun I know you're in there. Wake up. The others already made breakfast." Sicheng's voice appeared behind the door. "And don't try to hide the fact that Y/N is also in there. We know what you two did last night. So hurry up and come down." Doyoung added. You were red as a tomato thanks to Doyoung's remark.

When you two arrived at the table in the kitchen, 12 eyes looked at you. You just sheepishly smiled and sat down without saying any word that could lead to a conversation you weren't willing to have. Jaehyun sst down next to you and this made you even more nervous.

"So you two lovebirds. Aren't gonna say anything important to us that might as well should be shared by now?" Johnny interrogated with a goofish smile.

"Well..uhmm..Y/N and I are together, I guess?" Jaehyun stated or more like questioned. You knew he wasn't sure if you saw it the same way he saw it. You two could just had a one night stand and there wasn't feelings on your side. But you quickly vanished his thoughts when you took his hand in yours and said proudly but also embarrassed. "Yeah. Today is our first day as a couple."

The others laughed at your awkwardness and you released a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "Finally. Ohh I thought you two wouldn't check it. I mean how dumb are you two that- oww. That hurt." Johnny pouted at his girlfriend whereas Carly glared at him. "Wait do you mean finally?" you asked confused. "Did you really never saw Jaehyun staring at you. He did it like everytime you were near us. I thought his eyeballs would fall out." Taeyong laughed as Jaehyun's ears reddened and he looked down in embarrassment.

The first day you two went to school and hold hands on the way to your class, other students gasped and it was quickly gossiped all over the campus that Jung Jaehyun was dating Y/N Y/L/N. Even now you couldn't believe how fast information were spread around the campus. It all felt surreal. Jaehyun the hot topic ever since you knew about him and you the nerd who anyone never really cared about. Now you were the center from all. Some students said negative things like you were after his money or you just wanted popularity others said you two looked really cute or simply envied you. You weren't familiar with all this attention and it definitely wasn't something you ever wanted but you had to deal with it, so it had to work somehow.

Your first date was the cutest shit ever. He took you to a romance movie and hold hands the entire time the film played. Once the movie was over you two went to the Hangang Park. You sat on a bench and talked for hours. He was such a nice gentlemen the whole day you couldn’t belive it. Sadness was visible on both of your faces when you had to say goodbye. He gave you kiss and left.

After a month Jaehyun convinced you to come with him to a party one of his friends was hosting. If you remembered right his name was Ten. He was holding a party in the top floor of his parents' hotel. You didn't knew how you should dress yourself as you didn't have such expensive clothes that all of the people on the party would have. You couldn't tell Jaehyun about your problem because you knew he would buy you a dress and that was te least you wanted him to do. You didn't knew how to pay him back.

A knock on your apartment door made you jump off the couch and walking towards it. You opened the door a gap and looked at the guest. It was a old man in a black suit. He had a white shirt under the suit and a black bowtie on. He also had thick glasses on. You looked at him expecting. What was an old man doing in front of your door? And why did he look like a chauffeur? "Hello my is Bervald. I'm here to give you this present from Mr. Jung. He is waiting in the car outside. Please dress quickly." He bowed and left the gift on the doorway. You quickly took the box and opened it. It was a salmon ruched side jumper dress and next to the dress were matching ankle boots. You quickly changed and put some makeup on. Just so much that it wouldn't look too bad. You stumbled out of your door and saw Jaehyun waiving through the window. He was sitting in a limousine and you honestly were overwhelmed by the view of your boyfriend sitting in it. Bervald opened the door for you and you gladly thanked him before entering the car.

"Hey babe." He greeted with a brief kiss on the lips. "Hey. Did you buy this dress for me? I don't know when I'll be able to pay you back." You said with an uncomfortable look. "I knew you would say this. It's okay. I bought this because I love you and I refuse to get money from you for this." He took your hand and placed his soft lips on top it. Then he smiled at you and you saw those dimples you loved so much on him. You couldn't be angry or anything with him when he was like this. So you smiled at him and nodded along.

When you arrived at the hotel you felt kinda nervous. You only knew Jaehyun at the party as he said that the others couldn't come. He took your hand in his and led you to the elevator. The elevator drove all the up to the top floor and when the doors opened you already saw what felt lika a thousand people partying. Most of them were already drunk. Jaehyun guided you through the mass of people and you were going stairs upwards to a room.

A security guard stood in front of the door. He had broad shoulders and looked serious. Jaehyun said his name and the name looked through what you assumed was a name list. After he found the name he stepped aside and you and Jaehyun could go in. The room was quieter. It played a different music than in the entrance.

A man approached you who was shorter than Jaehyun. He looked like a instance of a rich kid. Neatly, and well the look on his face that proverbial said I'm rich. But nonethelessly he looked like a really nice guy. He hugged Jaehyun. "Jaehyun, Hey. Is this your girlfriend everybody's talking about?" He then looked at you with a wide grin. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ten. With whom do I have the honor?" He stretched his hand for you to take out. You took his hand and shoke it. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you too."

He led you to a table with 3 other guys and 1 woman. You three sat down and Ten introduced them all to you. A man that looked as short as Ten was Taeil and he somehow sent the same vibes as Yuta. Right beside Taeil sat Mark. He was the same guy Yuta called on the party month ago. And Jungwoo was beside Mark. Mark seemed like a little boy and Jungwoo was really cute. The only other woman in the round was named Si Jin. She looked pissed off for no reason. Her attitude was rude toward you but to the others she was the nicest person altogether.

Jaehyun bend his head to you and said he would leave for a short time as Ten wants to show him something he just purchased. He kissed you on the cheek and then disappeared in another room. You were left with Si Jin.

"So you love Jaehyun?" She eyed you up and down. You couldn't feel more uncomfortable under her sight. "Yes, I do." You said more to yourself than to her. You never said those words to Jaehyun but he said it permanently to you. You disappointed yourself. Why was it like this?

“You seem more like the type of girl that is just after his money. Stay away from him.“ She said with arrogance. “I’m not after his money. And you’re not someone I obey. So don’t interfere in the relationship with Jaehyun because I don’t think you’re winning anything out of it.“ You snapped at her. She just laughed and spilled the drink she had in her hand over her dress. The others were coming back and Si Jin looked angry and sad at the same time. Ten was the first to arrive. “Si Jin what happened to you?“ “Y/N spilled the drink over me and insulted me because she thinks I’ve a thing for Jaehyun.“

Your mouth opened but nothing came out. You were shocked that she played such dirty tricks. You glanced at Jaehyun and he looked angry at you. Was he really believing her? “Y/N see what you did. Her dress is entirely transparent. How could you humiliate her like this?“ Ten yelled at you. “I wasn’t even the one who did this to begin with. Why would I do something like this. I now my limits.“ You said while feeling yourself getting angry. Your eyebrows furrowed and the displeasure of his words were truly visible on your face. “So are you blaming her? Why would she do this to herself hmm? She’s a good friend of mine and she wouldn’t do anything like this.“ Jaehyun rose his voice at you. It was the first time that he was so angry at you. Even the looks of his ignorance were better than this situation. Everyone in the room was now looking at the scenario that took place in front of them. Your heart shattered at the sight of your boyfriend. How could he have so little trust in you? You wanted to fight back at him but what would happen? He didn’t believe you indifferent of what you said. Tears showered your face but he didn’t care. “I would never do such a thing to a person and I thought you know me. But I guess I was wrong. You never trusted me in the first place. So bye Jaehyun. Have a good life.“ You mockingly said the last words before exiting the room and the hotel.

You walked all the way home. You couldn’t care less about the people that looked wary at you. You couldn’t stop thinking about the look you saw on Si Jin’s face before you left. She smiled mischievously at you. How come he didn’t notice this?

Back in your apartment Carly already waited at you. She expected you to come home smiling like an idiot or calling you and tell her you weren’t coming home. But she definitely never expected to see you crying like baby. She ran to you and gave you a heartwarming hug. “Hey, hey everything’s fine. Calm down.“ She ran his hand over your back in an attempt to soothe you. It just achieved the opposite and you were crying more and more. You missed Jaehyun and her hand on your back let you feel more miserable than you already were.

After you calmed down you told Carly the whole story. She couldn’t believe what she just heard. “You mean this bitch tricked everyone on the party? And Jaehyun didn’t took your side but instead hers? Is he this much of a dumbass?“ She was upset at Jaehyun. She suggested to wach a movie and she also brought ice cream. The two of you chatted the rest of the night away. You couldn’t stop thinking about Jaehyun but you didn’t want Carly to feel pity because she couldn’t help you.

The next day you weren’t in the condition to go to any lecture. You were heartbroken that’s for sure but you also had one of the worst headaches in your life. Thanks to your headache you throw frequently up. Besides you had to convince Carly to go to the lecture because she thought it would be better if she helped you. But you actually didn’t want to see anybody, so she gave in.

You slept most of the day away and when you woke up in the evening your headache thankfully mitigated. Carly left you a note on the kitchen counter. She went out with Johnny but she made you a soup. You just had to warm it up in the microwave. You looked at your phone for any notifications but the only persons that messaged you were Carly and Taeyong. Jaehyun didn’t wrote you nor called you. You ate the soup and answered Carly and Taeyong. After that you crawled under your blanket again and doze off to dreamland.

A slight touch on your shoulder woke you again. A part of you hoped it would be Jaehyun but it were Johnny and Carly. You looked disappointed at them and they took care of you for the rest of the day. They wanted to drag you out but you denied. So you just sat in the living room and they called the others over. Expect Jaehyun everyone was there. You played cards and you weren’t so good at it. You lost like every round but it felt not as frustated as you felt about Jaehyun. Your sadness kinds turned into frustration.

The next week you went to school like how you used to before you knew Jaehyun. Of course they had to be rumors about you. A girl came to you and said. “He finally realized what a hoe you are.“ Then she left. What the hell was wrong with those people? It wasn’t their relationship, so why did everyone want to be a part of it? When you met Jaehyun in class you ignored him. It wasn’t that hard because he did the same with you. But sometimes you would feel him glance at you. You didn’t thought much into it and just continued to listen to the prof.

Even if you were mentally exhausted, you still had to go to work. Every hour you spent there felt like torture. The customers were more rude than before since they knew about the break up. You snapped at a student one day because he said you were too bad in bed to be togehter with. Also you explained yourself to your boss she was beyond pissed. You couldn’t allow you another mistake like this. You smiled at everyone despite their nasty remarks. Your nights were spent crying in your bed. You didn’t care if Carly heard you. You just didn’t wanted this life anymore. Everybody turned their backs to her expect from her few friends she had. Although she was thankful for the friends she gained, she couldn’t help but feel sad. They were still Jaehyun’s friend and you still missed him to death.

Taeyong took you to a new opened cafe one day. He said he felt miserable for yu so he wanted to make you at least a litlle happy. You didn’t commented on this as both of you knew nothing would change your feelings right now. The cafe was rather full but it was nice decorated. There stood fresh flowers on every table and the walls were in a bright orange. It looked new but fancy. The atmosphere felt like the total opposite of the cafe your were working at. but before you could deepen your thoughts Taeyong spoke. “I ordered an Iced Americano for you. I hope you still like it.“ “Ah...yes I still like it.“ You said hesitant. You never talked with him about your favorite drink so why did he knew it? You sat with him for quiet a while before the order was finally ready.

When Taeyong wasn’t coming back with the orders you looked the cafe up for him. He was nowhere to be found. “Y/N, it’s nice to meet you again. I really missed you.“ You heard a very familiar voice saying. There he stood with the two orders in his hand. The person you missed the most out of all. Jaehyun. He had a black jeans and a loosely light blue t-shirt on. For once in the time you saw him he didn’t look like a someone who is rich. he looked like a decent human being. You couldn’t see his face because he managed to also hold a big bouquet of flowers. He hesitantly put the drinks on the table and sat the opposite from you down. The flowers were neatly placed in the middle of the table. “You know..“ he bagan “I was really dumb. I mean I knew you would never do this but I wasn’t thinking in that moment. I don’t know why I said those things to you and ...I’m really sorry. I know this isn’t enough but I couldn’t think of anything else. I just wanted to be honest to you.“ He took your hands in his “Y/N I miss you like crazy. There isn’t a night I don’t think about you and feel like crap. I know this is chliché but what I did was wrong and again I’m truly sorry.“ You could see the sincerity in his eyes but you still weren’t convinced. “If you were so sorry why didn’t you come a week ago?“ Jaehyun couldn’t look you in the eyes as he said his next words. “I was embarrassed. I thought you would hate me to death and...and I didn’t know how to approach you. You never looked at me and you were always the first out of the lecture hall. I was being cowardly and I’m sorry for this.“ A smile creeped its way to your face and you started to laugh. He looked confused at you before you answered his question that was visibly on his face written. “You’re just too cute Jaehyun. I know you’re sorry and I already forgave you but it was too funny to see your ears getting redder.“ You said inbetween laughs. He smiled at your silliness and you died internally when you saw his dimples you missed so much.

“I love you Y/N.“ He spoke up after a short pause. “I love you too, you idiot.“

[okaybutlikeimagine]

Come Inside, It’s Ok

Desc: Hop realizes that Billy is a lot like him when he was a teen- based on the song Thirteen by Big Star (bc that’s a Jopper AND a Harringrove anthem, tell me i’m wrong)

TW: referenced past child abuse, referenced homophobia, every dad in Hawkins sounds like an abusive asshole in this fic i didn’t mean it 😞

you can also read this on AO3 right here!! ♥

~*~

James Hopper hated his father more than anyone else hated the man. More than his uncle who had to grow up with the jerk. More than his mother who threatened to divorce the deadbeat seven times. More than anyone.

Hopper’s father was abrasive and loud. He joined the army because he wanted to. He gave up his individuality willingly. He shaved his head and licked the boot of The Man and acted superior for it. He looked down on a young Jimmy Hopper and barked in his face and ordered that he become a man. Quicker. Jim was only 7. He had just broken an arm at football practice. He needed reassurance and comfort. He got condescension and a mother threatening to leave. Loudly.

James Hopper was sure he was the only son in the world who hated his own father. He felt sure as hell about it when he stuck his jaw out and looked past his nose at his father who always seemed to tower over him. Even when the man only had an inch on him, he was larger- always looming. He felt sure as hell about it when he’d narrow his eyes and refuse to listen. He felt sure as hell about it when he talked back to him, and got into yelling matches with him, and slammed the door on him.

He felt even more sure the one night he got hit.

He was more than certain he was the only one. Standing there, staring this horrible bulk of a man down, Jimmy knew no one else had ever felt such a thing before. This wasn’t TV or the movies. This wasn’t a family love you cherish by the fire on a cold Christmas night. This wasn’t a father with kind eyes and a stern voice who comes into the house in the evening with his suit on and his briefcase in hand, kissing his kids and smiling brightly. This was different and he knew it.

And all of that anger and stress and feeling of certainty made him take too long to realize something crucial. Because he didn’t realize you can know something and yet still be so wrong.

That is, until Phil didn’t come to school one day.

Jimmy figured he was sick. A couple days later he figured it was that nasty stomach bug. A week later and he figured his family took a trip. A week and a few days had him itching with worry. He asked his best friend as calmly as he could. That friend looked at him like he was nuts.

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“He moved away. His mom took him out of the state last weekend. They just left.”

Jim couldn’t understand the words for a second.

“Why?”

“You didn’t know? His dad has been roughing him up for years now. He got the mom too, I think. Why do you think he was always wearing sweaters all year long?”

Jim’s heart stopped.

“His mom finally got him out. They left.”

“Why did no one say anything about it?”

“Because you don’t talk about that stuff.” Jim’s friend said, hushed and knowing, eyes turned solemn and hiding a world Jim didn’t know lived in there. In his most outspoken, lively friend. In his friend he’d known since they were toddlers.

You don’t talk about that stuff he said like he had a whole world of pain to tell. Jim knew his friends were like him- dads who were tough as nails and grunted more than spoke. It was why they all got along so well. But they never mentioned their fathers being… Jim was so sure he was the only one. Everyone else did things with their family. Everyone else seemed so perfect. At the very least they seemed better. Jim was sure.

Why did no one say anything about it? quickly morphed into Why did I never even ask?

Starting there, Jim kept a critical eye out. He watched his friends and what they were wearing. The way they moved and the changes in those movements. The words they spoke about their parents. He noticed differences and fluctuating emotions. But stil, he was only a young teenager- he never knew what to do. His mouth couldn’t form around the words he felt he should say. His brain could barely provide them. So he did for them what he would have liked- just took them out to empty fields and deep into the woods. He provided them beer and music. Sometimes, when they were splitting at the seams, he’d fight them a bit. He’d egg them on so they could fight it out. Get the anger out. Help, somehow. Inadvertently. Lord knew Jimmy sometimes just needed to punch shit. Turns out, his friends felt the same way, and often.

When his daughter Sarah came, he handled her gently and spoke to her even softer. He got into fights with his now ex-wife over his not being strict enough but Hop couldn’t find it in himself to have any kind of gruffness toward someone so soft and so innocent and so pure. She was the light of his life. She left so quickly. Even his softness and kindness couldn’t save her, and he couldn’t very well beat the shit out of her enemies like he had wished to.

And when he met Billy Hargrove on the side of the road that one dark night, having pulled him over for speeding drunkenly down the lonely streets on the outskirts of town, every red flag flew up. Every worry and fear he found within himself when he was a teen found its place once again inside of him for this boy. For his bruised face and exhausted eyes. For his lightly cut chin and short breath. Hop became young Jimmy yet again, analyzing and fearing for a world of pain he couldn’t see and couldn’t ask about. He searched hard for words this time and found all the wrong ones. He exhausted the poor boy with his inability to articulate his fears and was successful in taking him in only because he had worn him out so badly.

Still, since then, he’s been here. He’s family now. He’s out of there. In all his fumbling Hop did something right.

And yet, things still feel wrong. Billy still walks tentatively around him, like the cabin is going to crash down above him and any relationship they’ve built up is going to shatter.

Hop thinks about it so often. He thinks about Billy and sees his own friends from high school. He sees parts of himself, but sadder, angrier… more helpless. He thinks endlessly on what he can do to fix it.

~Won’t you let me walk you home from school~

A song starts playing through his record player and he’s lost again in the world of Jimmy vs. Billy. He thinks of how life used to feel simple.

This song always whisks him away to high school. The early days when life was confused and wandering and he was just coming into his own with football, not nearly a “star” yet and Joyce… Joyce was young and wide eyed and wandering just the same. By that point she hadn’t even met Lonnie yet. She was awkward and yet still so beautiful. So quiet and so stunning. Her laughter rang through the hallways and he swears he can still hear it.

This song feels like it’s for them. When he first heard it, he saw her face back when they were freshmen and then sophomores, when he used to walk her home. He always used to walk her home, before he got his car and before she got Lonnie. They’d walk so slow, wandering through the streets, lazily strolling past stores and getting slightly distracted by the people zooming past on their bikes.

He sits forward on the couch and he looks down at the tattered carpet and he hears himself as Jimmy.

”C’mon Joyce… we can hit the pool this weekend.”

“I’m busy.”

“Then… then maybe Friday I can get a couple tickets for that dance.”

“What?”

He gave her his biggest, brightest grin, knowing he caught her off guard. He smiles a little now at the thought.

”Yeah, c’mon, Joyce. I’ll take ya. I’ll get a monkey suit and you can wear a dress-”

She had laughed that bright, ringing laugh. It made him smile every time.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

“You’re gonna pass up a chance to dance with me?”

“Don’t tell me, you’re the best dancer in Hawkins?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t come find out.”

“You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Hop has a hard time thinking of himself back then. He felt so sure of everything. Of himself and what he was doing, even if he knew he didn’t know anything at all. Still, he chuckles now as he sits here, thinking about Joyce’s smile and her little nod. Thinking about him buying those tickets. Thinking about the night they had together, awkward and fumbling but bright still. His first real kiss that had real feelings to go along with it. The way Joyce walked so quickly as they headed to her home because she was so nervous. The way she never let him walk her up to her house because she was so scared her parents would ground her.

Lord does he remember the fights. The stress and the struggle of dealing with Joyce’s parents. When they came to an after-school event and Jimmy said hi to her and her dad gave her hell for it and her mom worried herself sick for a bit. She got grounded and started avoiding him. He got angry and figured fine because Gloria from his History class had been eyeing him up lately and helping him with a pretty friendly smile so it didn’t even matter.

It wasn’t more than a week that had passed before he cornered her after school and convinced her to let him walk her home again.

They wandered downtown and he guided her behind a store building, the store she now works for if he remembers correctly, and asked about that night. Asked about what he said wrong. Asked about what he did wrong.

She shook her head, said it was just her parents being “crazy, I don’t know”. He couldn’t find it in him to worry that much. When they kissed, it was still with so many feelings attached. Hop can’t remember when those feelings faded.

It wasn’t until a couple years later when a rumor started going around about Joyce’s dad being a grade A asshole like Phil’s was all those years ago that made Jim take her aside very seriously and ask her if she was okay- those couple of years ago and that day. By that point she was with Lonnie and he was getting serious about Diane. He and Joyce hadn’t talked for over a year. Still, he was worried. She insisted that her dad just liked to huff and puff and yell enough to shake her ears, but he never touched her. It wasn’t until years and years later that Hop realized that really isn’t any better. Nowadays she insists she was and is fine and he’s just found it in himself to believe her.

When Hop finally got a car, they would sit in it and listen to the radio and talk music. She was the only person who’d sit with him and actually think about lyrics and feelings and words. She was always so headstrong about… well everything but especially human rights. She wanted equal rights for everyone. She fought so hard it made Jim tired. Maybe it started with her father but it truly never seemed to end. They used to sit and theorize about meanings behind words and the messages of songs.

”Tell your old man what we say about Paint It, Black. That’ll mess him up.”

Joyce hit him with a chuckle. That was the last time in high school they really laughed together. He can still remember her laugh back then- light and free from any weight these years have brought to it.

But now Jimmy is Hopper, and life isn’t the same. It doesn’t wander and linger and hide behind stores for extra kisses that feel electric. He knows life just doesn’t work that way anymore. He feels like life has only continued with all of the bad parts and none of the good.

In the slow guitar interlude of the song, he hears voices where they shouldn’t be- distant and slightly muffled and outside the window that’s opened a bit to let some air in.

“Yeah, he’s home. The cruiser is there.”

“Then I should go-”

“No, wait-”

It’s Billy and another voice Hop thinks he can recognize. Sounds like the same cocky, lilted tone of Steve Harrington. He knows they’ve been fighting for months now. They always seem to be fighting. Hop used to get called into the school because Billy was always shoving him around that one year. Since then there’s been whispers of them causing a ruckus all over the place but Hop never gets called to check it out. He doesn’t like to ask too much about it. He’s still trying to handle Billy gently and there’s so many more things to worry about. He doesn’t have the words to ask about that.

He doesn’t have the words to explain why they’d be here, together and clearly not at each other’s throats. Why bring a fight all the way back home?

“You uh… got anything planned this weekend?”

“Nope, nothing planned.”

A pause.

“There’s uh… a stupid dance or something-”

“Billy-”

“Look I just… we can’t go, obviously but maybe… we can do something on our own?”

There’s another pause. Longer this time. Hop used to be so sure and suddenly he’s realizing yet again maybe things are the same as they were when he was young- because yet again, he doesn’t know anything.

~Won’t you tell me what you’re thinking of~

“C’mon Harrington….” there’s the confirmation Hop didn’t need. “Say something at least. Don’t just stand there thinking.”

“Billy we can’t keep running around and hiding.”

“Why not?”

~Would you be an outlaw for my love?~

“What if people find out, that’s why not! What if my dad-”

“Tell your dad to fuck off.”

“And Hop?”

Hop’s heart stops. Everything comes crashing to a halt because suddenly he’s being made to face the very harsh fact that he’s not Jimmy anymore. He hasn’t been for a long while. He’s Chief Hopper and Chief Hopper belongs to the “other” part of these young kids’ minds. Billy’s and Steve’s and El’s and Mike’s. He’s the man they’re meant to rebel against. He’s the one that doesn’t “get it” like they do.

And apparently he’s the one that Steve is worried about.

He doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t even know what to think. He knows people like that exist. He thinks he used to go to school with a few guys who were… well, into other things. He never had much to say or even think about it. Joyce was friends with them. She went out to a protest or something once in their senior year. He saw her in a car with them while he was taking Diane to the movies.

It’s not the fact that they like each other or that they want to spend time together. That’s better than them beating the snot out of each other and getting his guys called on them. It’s the fact that they’re worried about him and the fact that they have every reason to be. Hop is part of “The Man” now, and people around here don’t exactly like differences.

“I’ll figure it out.” Billy says, but Hop almost misses it, it’s so quiet.

“Billy-”

“Are you gonna fight for this, or what? Or is this just a one time thing for you to find yourself or some bullshit?”

Hop hears Jimmy in Billy’s words

”Are you not gonna fight for me?”

“Fight for you?!” Joyce had yelled. Oh, how she yelled. ”Are you serious? I… I pick and choose my fights Jim, okay? I have to.”

“That’s not very fair to me.”

“Not fair? No shit it’s not fair, it’s not fair for me either! And you… you’re not being fair to me, y’know!”

And that was it. They went separate ways. It’s so vivid in Jim’s mind- the way she stormed away and Jim drove himself home. He doesn’t remember how long it took until Lonnie joined Joyce’s picture, but it felt too soon in Hop’s ever bitter mind. He couldn’t look at her for weeks. He shoved Lonnie in the hallway any chance he got. The kid would snarl and sneer at him, but he was as scrappy as a dog and scrawnier than a toothpick- no way did he ever pick a fight. He spat words and Jimmy lunged and that was that. Hop doesn’t remember when the feelings faded, but he knows he never stopped hating Lonnie’s stupid face.

Then he started to date Diane and things were just… over.

“Alright Steve, I see-”

“It’s not that easy for me, Billy.”

“And you think this shit is easy for me?”

Hop feels bad for sitting here, still listening, but he can’t get his muscles or limbs to move him. He feels stuck, somewhere between here and the past, picturing all the ways he’s still the same and yet so wildly different.

“Well it is different for you.”

“Just because my shit’s different doesn’t mean my shit’s better. Shit is still shit, Steve.”

All the times Hop thought he had it the worst anyone could ever possibly have it.

“You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Try me, Harrington! Just try me.”

All the times Hop thought maybe his friends were exaggerating about Phil’s past. Maybe Joyce was being dramatic about things at home. There was no way a kid could feel so threatened. Not a kid as big as Phil. Not a kid as headstrong as Joyce.

There’s a longer pause from the two outside the window. The voice that comes is quieter now.

“It’s scary Billy.”

“I know it is! I… fuck I know it is.”

Not a kid as big and headstrong as Billy. It took years for Hop to believe it could happen and still, with an example living in his own house, it’s still hard to understand.

“Don’t you think it could be worth it?” That’s Billy’s voice. Hop feels his heart sink even deeper. They’re talking like they’re going to die if they’re caught. How many more times can he tell this boy he’s safe here? What does he have to do to convince him? To convince them both?

“Maybe… I think so.”

“Look, I can’t make you do anything, Steve. But if you wanna try… then let me know, alright?”

Billy sounds so tired. Hop wants to tell him to lay down and take a nap. There’s such a long pause that follows and fills the space between them.

And then suddenly there’s something blocking the sun from the window. Jim gets the wherewithal to turn and see that the two boys have got their hands tangled in the front of each other’s shirts, just like they would if they were gearing for a fight, but instead of fists flying it’s their lips locked- worlds of frustration still heavy on their brows.

Jim wants to protect these kids until the day he dies. They’re here and they’re wandering too, but their walk home is covered in speed bumps and potholes and hell maybe even spikes that he and Joyce never knew. Whatever he can do to give these kids the time and place to wander like the kids they are, he’ll do it.

Then they separate, their breathing clearly labored and mingling. Then they turn and see Jim in the window, caught like two deer in big bright headlights.

A split second later, Steve is running for the hills and Billy is left with his fists grasping at the air. Hop can’t help but laugh.

[aftergloom]

Tell that Zabrak he just made my list of things to do today (Part II)

Sequel to Somebody’s Gonna Have a Bad Time, or, second in The Knights of Old Iridonia series: We rejoin the party as Savage walks in on an intimate... tete-a-tete in some crap cantina on Dathomir.

News flash: you’re not so discreet as you think, Reader!

Summary: Remember that little foursome you got yourself involved in the last time you had too much to drink and started wagging your lips? Congratu-karking-lations. Someone caught feelings… and feelings complicate things, don’t they? Rating: Explicit Pairing: Reader x Feral, Reader x Savage Opress, Reader x Maul  CW: public sex, praise kink, daddy kink, pda, canoodling, groping, exhibitionism, biting, oral sex, voyeurism, cockwarming, explicit sexual consent, references to previous interactions, references to anal sex, references to group sex, more later Word Count: Just shy of 12k Notes: No use of Y/N, fem!reader, she/her

Read Ch. 2 below or on Ao3

You don’t even have the time to do-up your pants before the weight of the eldest Opress brother bears down on the table and you hear its joints groan. Something pings, hitting the floor and rolling. A screw.

You pause. You carefully remove your hand from your pants, fumbling for the closure. All good. It’s the sound you make when you pop off Feral’s cock that leaves him jerking in surprise that’s a dead giveaway.

“There are better places for this. Meet me outside,” says Savage.

Busted.

You don’t move though — and that’s the kicker. From where you’re crouched, you can see Feral nod, his throat bobbing. His attention flickers like he wants to look down at you, but stops himself.

Savage raps on the table over your head.

“You too, little one.”

Feral’s gone semi-soft, and you look at his cock with the sort of longing that leaves you unsatisfied and uncomfortable, the heat ever-present but cooling. It’s a further beat before Savage steps back, and turns away. From where you’re sitting, you watch his leisurely stroll from the bar, to the door, and out into the street. Just his legs, though. The rest of him towers so far above the rest of the patrons you have to imagine him ducking through the door.

Slumping a little, Feral’s hand catches yours, brushing a thumb across your knuckles.

He gives you a small smile. A wink.

“I wasn’t finished,” you huff.

And he cracks a half-smile.

Tucking himself away, he says, “Just a brief interlude. Come on.”

He slides sideways off the bench, and helps you out into the open. If anyone’s watching, he doesn’t care about the extra attention as he gives you a once over, brushing a thumb over your cheek and tucking your hand into his.

“Savage probably just wants to watch.”

He squeezes your fingers.

“Feral,” you say, stopping him before he can pull you away and into the night.

You hesitate, because you’re not sure if saying it feels like a betrayal of the agreement between the three males and yourself.

Is it selfish to want time alone with him?

Is it selfish to want to finish what you’ve started?

When you look down at your boots; your dirty knees, you let out a long breath that he catches against his chest when he sidles back into your personal space.

His thighs brush yours, then notch into place as he draws you to him one-handed.

You tip your head up, and he flashes a grin before he presses a kiss to your lips: soft, and lingering, and sweet. He pecks your nose too for good measure, before whispering into your ear, “Don’t worry, I’m still going to wreck your pussy, love.”

You’re too shocked by the vulgarity to even choke a laugh, and he knows it.

And it’s almost sweet — the way he cradles you, rocking you into the warmth and hardness of him — and you chuckle because you can feel his semi pressed against your hip.

Feral raises your fingers to his lips. Kisses the knuckles. His other hand slides from your waist to your ass, cupping the meat of the flesh, and squeezing to spread you apart right there in your slacks like your clothing doesn’t make a kriffing bit of difference. He pats it for good measure.

“And I’ll still let you suck me clean for good measure,” he purrs.

You don’t have the time to sigh, before he flashes that grin, tugging you into motion with a, “Come on.”

The room is spinning, and you don’t think it’s because of the booze.

The gloamingspell that settles over Dathomir’s Night City paints the vendor stalls and shops and tombs the colour of a fresh bruise. So much red stone turns purple beneath the Twins, and with the winking lights of those who live up the mountain, it looks like the whole place glitters.

Your breath catches at it. It’s been so long since you’ve experienced evening after having made planetfall that you forgot how pretty it could be.

The spirit lanterns burn low along the streets, but you still pick out Savage despite the failure of your human eyes to see as perfectly as the Zabrak do in the semi-dark.

His gaze gleams, the bulk of his body still and hulking and as patient as the stone he was born from. Feral holds your hand as the pair of you approach — a good thing since Savage’s neutral expression leaves your nerves bubbling.

He says nothing, but turns, knowing you’ll follow.

Feral’s fingers slide from yours, ghosting down your back as he urges you ahead.

And you follow Savage’s lead —

Not because you’ve thought consciously about moving your feet, but because something in you piques and trembles at the prospect of trouble; of being caught; being reprimanded by those large, punishing hands.

You glance back, finding Feral right behind you. He pats your bum to usher you along, smirking at your hesitation as Savage turns down an unfamiliar alley.

At the end, he ducks beneath an awning, and through a door set into the mountainside.

He’s still holding it open for you when you stumble through, trying to better read his expression but finding nothing forthcoming except for the —

“Oh.”

You take in the recessed tub in the corner. The overly-large bed on the stone dais. The cushions. The tapestries. The low tables heaped with exotic meat dishes and fruit and jugs of wine and cold ale. Couches. Gauzy panels of fabric swaying in the warm breeze. The flicker of lamplight. Even the coverings over the floor — plush. Comfortable. Lavish, even.

Savage, at your side, follows your gaze, “This is better than a dirty tavern floor, is it not?”

You don’t answer. You’re… actually you’re a little choked up, so you stare at him a beat longer with your burning eyes and your clenched fists, and when Savage pulls back to stare down at you, trying to puzzle out why it seems like you’re about to burst into tears, it’s Feral who leans in to become your saving grace:

“Take off your clothes if you agree,” he whispers.

You’re already tugging off your top before he can shut the door.

Savage’s expression softens as you sniff, staring him down as you step on the heels of your boots, kicking them away. Your belt follows. Then your pants.

His gaze never leaves yours as you move to strip off your breast band, but it’s Feral who steps in before you can get out of your panties, his hands slipping over your hips as he cradles you from behind.

You choke down the lump in your throat, still staring at his elder brother — daring him to say something.

His gaze trails down your body, stopping briefly at your simple underwear. Feral’s hooked his thumbs into the waistband, flicking little caresses back and forth that make your stomach clench and shiver.

It’s too nice — this room. This place.

But you don’t dare make a sound to say so.

“If you like the room, you can show him,” Feral encourages.

When your lower lip quivers, it’s Savage who reaches for you at last, thumbing your lower lip into stillness. Those large fingers slip around the back of your neck, tipping your face up to his.

“You’re sad.”

You shake your head.

“Happy?”

Your eyes burn.

“I don’t deserve this,” you manage.

Savage softens, and leaning in as Feral releases you to him, he smiles before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You deserve so much more, but this is the best Dathomir has to offer.”

He pulls back, and your hands loop over his wrists. “For your comfort, and ours: something special, for an evening. A night. Yes?”

You nod, but Savage looks uncertain.

“Then why do you frown, little one?”

You step in a little closer, and those large hands fall to your shoulders. You don’t tell him that no one’s ever done something so sweet for you before, but you do snake your arms around his waist. You can barely touch your fingers together around the other side of him, but it doesn’t matter because Savage places his heavy hands on you with careful tenderness, just letting you hug him.

“Thank you,” you manage, and when he cups the back of your head, you feel him chuckle, and then he relaxes.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you at the cantina.”

That, at least, earns a snort.

“Forgive me?”

You poke him in the side, although it does pretty much nothing.

“Apologize to Feral,” you mutter. “It was his blow job.”

Savage chuckles, and pulling back, he lifts you like you weigh nothing at all to carry you across the room to Feral, already sprawled on the bed. When Savage sets you to your feet before him, conscious suddenly of your nudity against his armour and Feral’s half-smile and roving gaze, you feel the shift in the air around you as suddenly as it thickens.

Savage’s fingertips trail down your arms, raising goosebumps on your skin. Your nipples pebble as those large hands slip to your ribs.

“There is only one rule in this place,” Savage rumbles.

The glow in Feral’s gaze turns him impish. He pops a small, round fruit into his mouth, appreciating the sudden caution in your expression. He’s already ditched his shirt, and the flash of lean muscle leaves you momentarily distracted.

Savage’s touch trails southward, catching the scrap of fabric that covers you and wrapping the sides with his thumbs.

“No clothing.”

When he pushes them down, you feel a little of the breeze against your sex. It’s a fluid motion, and smooth as silk, so when Savage takes your hands and helps you onto the bed with his brother, he’s already parted your legs to position you on your knees. A touch nudges you between the shoulder blades, coaxing you to all fours. It drags down you spine, and you shut your eyes against the shiver it inspires.

The warm fingers that grasp your thigh, spreading you open further, is so large that for a second you forget what it was like being with him. Just a fingertip grazing your arousal isn’t enough, and you arch at the surprise contact. And peering over your shoulder at him, Savage appears momentarily transfixed by the sight of you.

His gaze flicks to yours, gleaming and hungry.

“In time, little one,” he promises, and nods to his brother. “You have unfinished business, I think.”

Breathing hard, you look to Feral, who only licks his lips and gets comfortable for the show, easing you down to your elbows so that your ass is in the air, your elbows on either side of Feral’s knees as he undoes the trouble of his trousers again.

“Go on,” he says, a little breathless, and you help him pull them down and off.

Behind you, the clunk of plate armour striking the floor makes dull thuds against the carpeting.

“I want to see your beautiful eyes,” Feral says, “when you’ve got my cock in your mouth. Please, love. Would you do that for me?”

You nod, and something darkens in his expression.

“Say, ‘Yes, Feral.’”

Every iota of your body winds a little tighter at the command. Your voice comes out shivery with anticipation when you manage it.

“Yes, Feral.”

He lifts up, and you with him as Feral kisses you, pulling you into his embrace, his hands in your hair, your spine arching with it as he tastes you again like it was the first time.

“Is that okay? Can I talk to you like that?” He nips your lower lip.

“Feral.” Your laugh is breathy. “Yes, Feral.” And exasperated, “Fuck.” You both grin.

“Good,” he sighs, guiding you back down. “Put my cock in your mouth, then. Show daddy Feral how much you like it.”

The snap and recoil of those two words shifts your reality a bit, and destabilized, you darken as you hold his gaze. The heat of it strikes in the right way, though unexpected.

Daddy Feral.

It shouldn’t make your blood sing the way it does, but where Maul is uncompromising in his dominant play, Feral shows a softer sort of assertion. You also realize that he’s been paying close attention to what turns you on — closer, perhaps, than you’d realized.

“You like that, don’t you?” he presses.

Yes. Yes, you do.

“Show me, love,” he says, softer, caressing your face and thumbing your lower lip open. He slides his thumb between your lips, letting you wrap your mouth around the digit briefly.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as you suck on it a little.

Feral’s nodding as he withdraws, leaving you breathing heavily, your lips parted.

“Go on,” he encourages.

And determined, now — incensed by the challenge, really — you open your mouth around the head of his cock and sink down on it with a groan.

The strangled noise and the twitch of his thighs is almost worth the control you wrangle over your gag reflex as you swallow and roll your hips up to give him a better view of your ass.

Feral groans, and you do your best not to smile. You don’t want to graze him with your teeth.

Savage is perfectly silent, you realize.

Arched as you are, your feet sticking off the end of the bed, you know you’re giving him a perfect view of your cunt and your ass and your tits —

What you don’t realize is how close he is, nor that he’s been waiting for you to get settled.

The press of a digit into the crease of your backside, already slicked with lube, leaves you seizing up in surprise — more, when two fingers sink into your pussy without preamble.

You gasp at the contact; at the tension and stretch of your tender, wet flesh at the intrusion, but you clench and gasp around Feral’s cock, and Savage doesn’t relent.

He slips out, and presses deeper, thumbing your asshole and adding pressure there too.

Feral’s fingers card into your hair.

“Look at me, love,” he says. “We’re going to fill you up. Do you know why?”

You swallow around him, taking him deeper, and he grins at your enthusiasm.

It’s Savage who responds as the thrust of his fingers light a white hot path through your body to your brain. Rubbing a little circle around your asshole, his thumb breaches your last resistance, and you stop writhing for one blissful moment as you sigh into the feeling of being almost overly full.

Savage rumbles, “Because good girls go to bed with their pussies full of cum.”

There’s a moment of suspended surprise where the silence descends and all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears —

And then it begins:

And you clench, and you clench again, and something inside you shivers at the dangerous edge of succumbing to the slick thrust of his fingers as Savage uses his hand to thrust your mouth onto Feral’s cock; moving your whole body with the power of his grip.

Feral’s cock hits the back of your throat, and you reign in the spasm before it can become a gag. You close it off as Feral raises his hips, fucking your mouth in shallow thrusts.

“Good,” he groans, pushing back your hair for you. “Oh you’re so good, love.”

You want to hear him say it.

You want to hear those exact words that you need from his mouth as you watch Feral start to lose himself to the heat and suction of your lips. You want to know that you would do anything to make him feel good. You’d take whatever he gave you. You like it.

The ridges of his cock rake over your lips, your tongue sluicing spit so that it gets easier with each thrust. It’s messy, and your chin is wet, but the look on his face —

Savage shifts, his knuckle angling differently to catch you unawares, and Feral seizes, pumping once — twice into your mouth with a choked noise of surprise. Savage slaps your clit with his free hand, and something snaps inside you.

You barely hear Savage’s deep chuckle of satisfaction as you break on him, moaning as Feral pumps a jet of cum into the back of your throat. He thrusts again, mouth opened, gaze lidded in ecstasy, but you’re too busy creaming all over Savage’s fingers to stop yourself from gulping.

“Oh, ff —“ Feral manages, half-laughing. “Oh, she’s swallowing. Oh, my fuck —“

You can’t shout, but you whimper, and knock back another mouthful in the aftershock like it was a shot.

Feral slows. “Sweetheart,” he says, out of breath. “You lovely thing. You good girl.”

And this time, you do scream your release as he falls from your mouth, leaving you bucking reckless and untethered against Savage’s ministrations; at the perfect bit of praise to send you over the edge again.

You just wanted to be Feral’s good girl.

Savage rolls a circle around your clit, dragging out the sensation, but you’re a mess:

Facedown on the sheets, fists wrapped into the blanket, your cheek smashed into Feral’s thigh, making a sound so unintelligible that Feral actually laughs in surprise.

Kark.

Kark it’s so good.

“That’s right, little one,” Savage murmurs, pulling from your ass, gently letting you ride out the end of it on the two fingers he leaves inside you. “That’s it.”

You whimper, making some unintelligible noise of weakened acquiescence, and Feral gathers you to him with both strong arms, pulling you up the bed to settle you close.

He kisses your forehead; your eyelids; your cheeks, murmuring sweet things and pet names and caressing your shoulder and back and thigh — the parts of you he can touch while he’s folded you into the warmth of his chest.

He kisses your neck and you mewl for him, supple under his ministrations and still breathing hard.

“Lie back,” he murmurs, kissing your mouth. “Put your arms over your head, love. Let’s clean you up.”

You manage a confused, “Murr?” that earns a chuckle from Savage, who mutters something about using the tub to freshen up a bit. Feral, meanwhile, has eased you backwards onto the pillows, climbing over you so that the weight of him sinks you deeper into the bed.

He hums at the contact, bracketing your head with his biceps as he settles against you, nudging your chin up with his nose.

“I’ll be careful of the horns, but don’t squeeze your thighs together, okay?” He kisses your throat, and you shiver, back arching your breasts into his chest. “Just in case,” he whispers into your ear, and warm and pliant underneath his weight, you puddle.

He’s hitching your knee over his hip, and you can feel his cock brush your over-sensitized body as he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses down your chest, and you karking stop breathing when you realize that the path he’s working southward with his mouth is going to put his face between your thighs.

“Feral,” you whine, your hands fumbling at his shoulders, and that’s when he oh-so-gently takes both your wrists in one hand, and presses them overhead into the pillows.

He holds you there. It doesn’t hurt, but it does alert you to your heaving chest, your achey breasts, and how small you feel underneath him; how much you want him to touch you.

Looking down at you, skin glistening in the dim, his eyes shine with a new and fierce sort of affection. He’s always been the pretty one of the three Opress boys, but here — like this — he’s radiant. It gets borderline ridiculous when he smiles.

“What?” he laughs. “Don’t you want me to —” He looks down. “Kiss it better?”

You shiver because that’s the same line he used on you last night.

“Tease,” you taunt him.

“Never,” he says against your mouth, and then he’s kissing you again, half-hard against your inner thigh already, rocking his hips into yours. “I’m going to give you exactly what you need, little girl,” he promises. “And you can have it any time you like forever more. All you have to do —“

He licks a line up your throat, and you gasp as he pushes your legs apart, tacking your knee to the bed as he falls away.

“— Is say, ‘please.’”

You don’t get the chance.

When Feral starts eating you out, he half lifts you off the bed. He brushes his nose through your folds and follows it with his tongue. Deep. Devouring. And he uses his whole. Karking. Mouth. To lap at your juices, smearing them down his chin like he wants to bathe in you, and you —

Shocked. Rigid. Breathless. Register Savage seated on the edge of the pool across the room, a towel across his lap and a drink in his hand, watching you frozen on the bed with a hunger in his gaze you thought was only reserved for Maul on maybe his more intense days.

Feral presses a thumb into you, opening you to him so when he spreads your lips apart to suckle on your clit he’s already rubbing you to dripping again.

He takes the bud of your sex between his lips and sucks it; soothing it with his tongue in-between punishing it; burying his face into you with a groan -- and you just roll your hips with every thrust as he loses himself inside you.

The gasp you manage is maybe the only sound you’ve made since he started, and stars blot your vision.

“Breathe, little one,” Savage says. “Feral, you’re going to make her pass out.”

And would that be so bad, you wonder?

You grope at yourself, squeezing your breasts as Feral wraps your legs around his shoulders, riding you higher up the bed as he rises with you, still latched onto your labial hood and sucking it like he might pull your soul out from your cunt.

“Ah!” You manage, and he pulls off you, soaked to the throat and licking your juices off his chin.

He doesn’t leave you empty. He doesn’t leave you wanting though you whimper when his thumb takes the place of his tongue against your clit to add another notch of tension, and then he eases inside you with two curled fingers.

There’s pressure in a new spot, but it’s brief, and then it’s everything as Feral leans over you, your legs falling to either side of his hips, semi-slung over his thighs as he starts fucking you with his hand.

Hard.

A relentless and consistent hammer of his fingertips against the same spot inside you that crests and takes you with it as if propelled on a rising tide.

Your eyes flutter open, catching his half smile as he leans in and asks so sweetly, “Have you ever squirted, love?”

Your vision whites out, and the orgasm doesn’t rip through you so much as it tips you outside yourself and roars at the same unyielding, blinding cadence that doesn’t cease and doesn’t relent and doesn’t recede for what feels like minutes. And Feral — fuck — Feral stops moving and just presses into that same spot inside you, holding you suspended in a moment of such bliss that the room gets swallowed in dancing stars and the fuzzy drone of consciousness winking out.

And then there’s only the hum in your ears.

And Feral between your legs, nursing your throbbing, swollen cunt with gentle, warm laps of his tongue. Indulgent.

He smiles up at you as you gasp your way back into consciousness.

“There she is.”

He kisses your thigh.

He kisses the short patch of your pubic hair, and you twitch, and moan.

And he’s so fucking smug and satisfied, you sink into his lazy licking, soothed.

Throbbing with the aftershocks.

Stars.

“I passed out,” you manage.

He kisses your belly.

“You made a beautiful mess.”

His thighs are painted with your release. The sheets are soaked beneath his knees.

“You came so hard, you sweet thing.” He nuzzles your sex. “And you taste so good. Why didn’t you tell me you taste so good before? I could do this —” He presses a kiss to your mons, sighing. “— All fucking night.”

“Feral,” you whimper, reaching for him as he climbs up beside you.

“Did you like it?”

When you press into his body, he pays no mind for the mess, contented only to see you sated and spent.

You sigh, giving into his tender petting and hard planes.

“I loved it,” you say, because even soft and spent and sticky in his arms, some part of you knows that he’s proud of the mess he’s made of you.

The perfume of your release clings to him, but it’s okay: he looks at you with such warmth that you almost don’t process the weight of his cock bobbing against your thigh.

“Would you like some more?” he asks, brushing tendrils of sweat-stuck hair from your face. He looks at your mouth like he wants to kiss you, but you sneak into the gap first, brushing noses and trying not to smile and ruin it. He tastes like you, but when his tongue touches yours with gentle hesitation, you can’t help but melt into his warmth.

So good.

It’s so, so good.

And it’s better when Feral pulls you closer to deepen the kiss, his cock bobbing against the inner skin of your thigh. You can’t help it. You suck in a little breath.

“Such a good girl,” he says against your smile. “Making me hard for you already.”

Across the room, Savage clears his throat.

Feral hesitates, and whispers to you, “You’ve done quite a number on my brother too.”

Oh, Savage, you think.

“It’s alright, little one,” he says when he hears the distress in your voice, calling for him. “The Force is with me, and I am patient tonight.”

Feral’s smirk turns conspiratorial as he plays at being innocent. “While you were out, we decided on a little competition.”

Oh?

The back of his fingers stroke down your side, slipping around to cup your ass. He eases himself against you, rubbing his cock through your juices, brushing your clit with the tip as he rocks against your folds, getting it wet.

Your breathing hitches, and peeking down you watch how it starts to glisten with each roll of his hips.

“What are you competing for?” you ask, but some part of you already knows the answer.

It’s why Savage is being so patient.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Feral smiles as he leans in to kiss you again, palming your breast to roll a nipple between his finger and thumb. “We want to know which one of us can make you come the most.” He shrugs. “The fastest.” He glances at his brother. “The hardest.” Looking back to you, he winks. “So far, I think I’m winning.”

They’re taking turns tonight.

He’s still letting you taste yourself on his mouth when he eases you back again, gathering your legs around his waist.

“Tell me what you want me to do, love,” he whispers. “Tell daddy Feral what he likes to hear from that sweet mouth yours.”

Stars help you, but you want it. You’re not spent, just cock dumb. You whimper, fumbling for him as he rubs the tip against your folds, sliding the hard heat of himself through your arousal.

“Do you want my cock?”

He presses the tip to your clit, rubbing you with it.

You nod, managing a, “Y-yes.”

“Do you want me to fuck you with it?”

The breath you hiccup is almost embarrassing.

“Yes, I want —“

He presses the tip forward, and you seize up. He pulls back.

“Tell me what you want, love. Tell me you want to come on my cock.”

“Feral —” You gasp. Whatever you’ve got left in you rouses to attention, your thighs quivering for holding themselves around his waist like you are. Unwilling to let go in case he pulls away.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he murmurs, his gaze gilded and drowsy in the lantern light. “I want to do everything I promise to you,” he says. “I want your body wrapped around mine when I ruin this fucking pussy.” He breathes, “It’s mine tonight. It’s mine right now. It’s mine tomorrow and the day after that.” He pushes your hair back. “I want you to tell me —” He licks his lips, “— How badly you want me to fuck you with it. How bad do you want to come on this —“ He eases forward, and you cry out at the brief glide of him before he pulls back.

“Feral, please, I —“

“Say it, little girl.”

“Fuck, I —“

“Say it.”

“I want to come on your cock.”

He breathes a laugh. “I don’t believe you.”

“I want to come on your fucking cock, Feral!”

He whispers, “Why, sweet? Why, my love?”

“Because —“

He brushes into your folds, hovering there.

“Why.”

“Because it’s your pussy,” you gasp.

“Try again.” He pulls back. “What are you, love?”

You heave a desperate breath.

You give in, because —

“Because I’m your little whore,” you wail. “I’m the Opress brothers’ little slut.”

“No, love,” he kisses you as he gives you every inch of what you need most with one easy, long thrust, filling you to the brim and seating himself there. He thrusts once, and your head rolls back. “You’re my good little girl,” Feral says.

He’s holding you carefully when he starts to fuck you, only it’s not hard and sharp. He’s slow and long and steady, and each movement is a delicious ache and roll of his hips. He’s firm, but tender, and he clasps the back of your neck to demonstrate that he’s still in control.

Zabrak males, you think —

They’re all about the big show.

“What are you going to do, love?”

You half-laugh, completely wrecked, everything twisted up into coils of need and desire and wanting more but not knowing how much you’ve got left to give.

“I’m going to come on your cock.”

“You’re going to come on Daddy Feral’s cock,” he whispers in correction.

“I’m going to come on your cock, daddy Feral,” you reply weakly.

“Yes, you are, love.”

And when Feral flips you up into his embrace, you take every inch of him as he kneels with you in his lap. Every wet, hot thrust that ripples through you and leaves you with your eyes squeezed shut, undone already and just waiting for one more moment to be broken apart so he might put you back together.

He helps you ride him, anchoring you at the waist so that when each thrust begins brushing your clit, he can better watch your face to see your eyes roll back a bit.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

Your arms are around his shoulders.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers. “You can let go.”

“Feral,” you sigh, rocking your hips into his.

“Tell me what you need.”

Like it’s a secret, you whisper in his ear so softly you think that his hesitation means he didn’t hear you.

But he slows, and stares, and licks his lips before pulling you closer.

“You liked it that much?”

You kiss him in response.

When you pull back, he looks at you with the sort of uncommon wonder that gleams in the dim. He softens, of course, especially when he pulls you to him and murmurs into your kiss, “Okay.”

And that melts you a little because he touches it. He doesn’t press. He doesn’t penetrate. He only sets his fingers on your ass like he was keeping it warm, and to even that you tighten, clenching on him as he drives you higher.

“I like it when you catch your breath like that,” he smiles.

You didn’t even know you made a sound.

A little bolder, you whisper back, “I like it when you play with me.”

He rubs it a little, adding just a hint of pressure to make you tighten around him as his thrusts pick up the pace. You squirm, because he’s toying with you, and it’s a little dirty but so is Feral, and you’re puddling on his crotch so you suppose you’re just a little dirty too.

“Touch yourself for me.” His eyes are so bright in the dim, and when his attention flicks down to watch you play with yourself, you nearly lose control over the whole thing because he growls and leans forward to clamp your shoulder in his teeth in a warning bite.

The feeling rocks through you, bottoming out as you grip him, frozen by the shivery too-full sensations of it all as the wet slap of your joining turns lurid and messy and —

He puts his mouth on your neck, and that’s where danger threads through things. This is a possessive move — one made for lovers and not friends; a gesture that would invite challenge from other males, especially one particular male who just happens to be related to Feral.

Feral’s teeth sit on your skin, but you’re coming for him, wringing out his own release before he can consummate the act of possessing you fully.

He controls every thrust and slip, holding onto you, pushing you harder so that one orgasm crashes into two and you think you’re going to pass out again.

You don’t, but you have to blink away stars as he slows, panting into your throat, your laboured breaths mingling between you. Shared smiles between little puffs of breath.

When Feral squeezes your body, squeezing his eyes shut, you can feel him flinch in the aftershocks.

“Karking tight,” he manages, but it’s strained.

Breathing hard, he pulls back from you to give you a dazed and dazzling smile. It freezes on his face almost as quickly, fading along with some of the colour from Feral’s face.

From the feeling alone, you know —

It feels cold, suddenly. The temperature dropping by degrees until the frisson of the Dark Side slinks through the palatial bedroom; a creeping shadow that draws up the hair on the back of your neck and the gooseflesh on your skin.

From the door comes a rumble of discontent that you’re all too familiar with. It’s laced with amusement absent any humour:

Maul murmurs, “That was close.”

Read Ch. 3 >

[wickedpact]

Idea for a JoexNicky fic!! (anon here)- piggybacking off the other anon's nicky's mom idea, what if for an anniversary present, Joe sketches a portrait of Nicky's mother? (obviously she'd look like a beautiful warm goddess of kindness) Like maybe he has a dream of one of Nicky's most vivid memories ;-; I would literally die

so uh. this bloomed wildly out of my control

this ficlet is 5k words long so dont open that read more unless youre willing to commit to it

warnings: brief discussions of violence, extremely brief mention of sex, me not knowing how the FUCK one becomes a priest in Ye Olde 1000′s, and probably a criminal lack of historical accuracy as well as a criminal lack of the accented o in ‘nicolo’

yeehaw.

  It starts with one of Andromache’s sparring sessions, and of course by ‘sparring’ session Nicolo means a session in which Andromache was in a piss poor mood for no obvious reason, and decided to take it out on the rest of them.

 These sessions tend to start with Andromache coming hurtling into their camp with a dark expression on her face, and end with Yusuf and Nicolo sprawled on the ground, bruised and exhausted, while Andromache and Quynh beat the ever-loving hell out of each other nearby. (Yusuf has been convinced for a long time that it's some sort of mating ritual; Nicolo... doubts it.)

This time around, they are at some point after Nicolo has given up, and some point before Yusuf has joined him; Nicolo lies on the sand, starfished, while Quynh and Yusuf attempt to tag team Andromache with an abundance of vigor and middling results. Nicolo cranes his neck to watch the spectacle, catching a glimpse of Andromache flipping Quynh straight over her shoulder before twisting around and kicking Yusuf dangerously close to the groin. Yusuf stumbles, and Andromache grabs him by the shoulder, shoving his considerable weight off of his feet and towards Nicolo’s resting spot.

Yusuf, stumbling, manages to not trip over Nicolo by inches, and falls face-first onto the ground beside him with a groan. Meanwhile, Quynh has recovered and charges at Andy again, beginning their age-old dance yet again.

Yusuf grumbles at Nicolo’s side and peels himself off the ground, leveraging onto a knee. Nicolo drops his head back down to look at him, smiling when he swipes a hand across his beard to dislodge the sand accumulating there. Having been roasting under the midday sun and the excursion of the fight for hours now, Yusuf is layered in sweat and breathing heavily but evenly, chest and shoulders heaving slowly with each breath. Nicolo’s mouth goes crooked watching him.

“She doesn’t attack still targets,” he advises, amused, lying still atop the sand.

“Like a lioness!” Yusuf agrees with a zest Nicolo lost about thirteen minutes ago. He pulls himself onto both knees and balances on them, wavering in a way that makes Nicolo want to give him a steadying hand. “Hm.” Yusuf braces a hand on his thigh, face scrunching up in consideration. “No. I don’t think so.”

And then he plops, face first, back to the sand. Nicolo gives him an encouraging pat on the back with his knuckles.

“Are you two giving up?” Andromache calls over. Nicolo cranes his head up again to see that Quynh is on the ground yet again, slowly stumbling to her feet, and Andromache stands with her back to her, facing them. Her hands are on her hips.

“Yes. Thank you for checking in!” Nicolo confirms, lifting a hand to give her a thumbs up. Andromache responds to the sass with a raised eyebrow before whirling around and punching Quynh in the stomach before the younger immortal could sneak up on her.

Quynh goes down for the-- who knows how many times now, and Nicolo drops his head. He squints up at the wavering blue lines of the sky until Andromache’s white robes cross his vision, casting a shadow over his and Yusuf’s resting forms.

“Get up,” Andromache insists, nudging Nicolo with her boot. “I’m not done with you two yet.”

“You can’t make us,” Yusuf grumbles into the sand.

“You bet I can’t?” Andromache threatens, more a tease than a promise. When neither of them reply, she rolls her eyes and says, with a less than gentle kick to Yusuf’s side, “You babies are so soft.”

Yusuf hisses, rolling away from Andromache’s boot, into Nicolo’s side. “Son of a whore, Andromache, knock it off,” he grouches, dropping his shoulder atop Nicolo’s. Nicolo grunts with the weight of it. “Or daughter of a whore, that is,” he corrects himself, then adds thoughtfully, “No offense to your mother, if she were a woman of the night. What did your mother do, Andromache?”

Andromache laughs at Yusuf’s meandering insult-- a posturing bluster of a laugh that makes Nicolo blink, wondering if Yusuf’s actually offended her somehow. If so this would be the first time; Nicolo has always known Andromache to be thicker skinned than a mule.

But then she says, “I don’t remember my mother. Who knows,” and turns and heads back over to Quynh, who’s only just recovered from before. They resume sparring, Nicolo watching them with mild confusion.

Nicolo turns to look at Yusuf, wondering if he’d caught onto Andromache’s discomfort, but when Nicolo catches his eye, he just shrugs his shoulder against the sand and says, “Well, that’s a line that’ll end an argument every time, eh?”

~

Later on, Nicolo is still considering it, sprawled in front of the fire --that Quynh had constructed a couple hours prior-- with Yusuf, Nicolo slouched against his chest and bracketed by his bent knees. Andromache and Quynh are arguing over the linen tent a little ways off, and Nicolo watches Andromache carefully, the lines on her face and the muscles in her arms, the working parts of her that have existed on this earth for thousands of years. The things her hands have done; the things her eyes have seen.

The things her heart has forgotten.

“You are thinking very loudly over there,” Yusuf says from somewhere over Nicolo’s head. Nicolo shifts his eyes from Andromache and Qyunh, to the fire, to his and Yusuf’s legs stretched out before it. He tilts his head back, the top of his head against Yusuf’s sternum, but all he can see from that angle is Yusuf’s beard, so he drops his head back down with a little amused huff.

“Andromache is very old,” Nicolo says slowly.

“Ah, yes,” Yusuf agrees, amiable. “Also: water is very wet, and the desert is very hot.”

“S’cold at night,” Nicolo grumbles, just to be contrary, and is rewarded by Yusuf slipping his arms under Nicolo’s, bundling him closer to his chest and notching his chin over his head.

“What’s wrong, Nico?”

Nicolo requires no further prompting, not from Yusuf at least. The words come tumbling out of his mouth, one at a time. “She doesn’t remember her mother.”

There’s little more that needs to be said there. The immortal life is one that comes with many downsides, and the nature of it is that sometimes one discovers these downsides centuries later than expected. This isn’t the first time an unexpected side-effect of their unending lives has been thrust upon him and Yusuf, and likely won’t be the last.

Nicolo had never really thought he might one day forget his mother.

 Yusuf hums thoughtfully in response, a non-answer that does little to soothe Nicolo. “That she doesn’t,” he adds after a moment. “What was your mother like?”

“I don’t--” Nicolo starts, and then, with an odd curiosity, realizes he’s having difficulty continuing. “I... didn’t know her very long. I was given to the church… very young. I don’t remember much of what she was like, other than that she was my mother.”

“Do you remember what she looked like?”

“Well…” 

Nicolo remembers little of his life before the clergy. Two brothers. A sister. His father’s stern brow, and the calluses on his mother’s hand as she took his little fingers in hers, leading him down the dirt paths back in Genova. Her smile, silhouetted by the heady red glow of the afternoon sun. 

“Brown hair,” Nicolo eventually answers. “Dark eyebrows. High cheekbones, too, and… and kind eyes.”

“What I’m hearing is you took after her very strongly.”

Nicolo smiles. “I do remember being told something of the sort before.”

“Her eyes?” Joe rests one of his palms flat against Nicolo’s stomach.

“Green, I’m pretty sure.”

“So you took after her very strongly, then,” Joe concludes.

Nicolo looks down, fiddling with the fingers of Joe’s free hand. “She used to take me to the shore. We’d gather seashells together.”

That he remembers well, plucking seashells and bits of coral out from dried seafoam after the tide had gone out near the end of the day, one arm bundling conch and clam shells against his chest, the other prying washed-up shells from the still wet sand. The sun would be low, but not low enough that they would feel the need to rush, and it would cast their shadows in long, blue lines across the beach. Time was an endless thing there, where the sun glowed red and bright, and there was always another conch shell wedged in the damp earth to dig up.

“She sounds lovely,” Yusuf hums. Nicolo pauses, tracing Yusuf’s index finger with his own. Yusuf almost never talks about his family. They have known each other for nearly three hundred years now, and yet Nicolo could store all the things he knows of Yusuf's family in a basket. Over the years he’s been able to piece together that both of Yusuf’s parents were dead before the Crusades began. And that they both died when Yusuf was fairly young. Beyond that… he knows little.

“Yusuf…” Nicolo starts, uncertain and fidgeting. “What about your mother?”

“My mother?” Yusuf repeats, as if Nicolo has somehow strung together two incomprehensible words. 

“Yes.” When a pause stretches between them, Nicolo sighs and laces his fingers between Yusuf’s. “You don’t need to tell me.”

“No, no,” Yusuf insists before Nicolo can change the topic. He returns Nicolo’s grip on his hands, smoothing his thumb over the knuckle of Nicolo’s pointer finger. “I want to. My mother…” He sighs. “She was very anxious. Always fretting. She was a weaver; she liked making rugs.”

Yusuf’s thumb stills over Nicolo’s knuckle. Nicolo tilts his head. “Your prayer mat. Did she--?

“Yeah, she made it.” Yusuf pauses again. “Weaving calmed her down when she was nervous. My father and I, we would travel often-- business, you know. Trade deals and things. Mother always worried when we were gone.”

They both pause when Quynh yells something particularly loud at Andromache, breaking the moment for a split second. Andromache hollers something back, and the two women break out into abrupt laughter.

“Are you worried you’ll forget her?” Nicolo asks when they've settled again. “Your mother?”

“No,” Yusuf replies, though he trails off halfway through the word. “In part, I suppose… but there are many things I’d like to forget, I think.”

Nicolo peels himself out of Yusuf’s arms in response to that, twisting around to look at his companion. Yusuf’s brows are pressed together, the tilt of his mouth sad. Nicolo places a hand to his chest, fingers against Yusuf’s collar. “Yusuf?”

Yusuf sucks the inside of his cheek, looking far away before directing a sad smile at Nicolo. “She came with us, once. On a trip. Of course the one time Father allowed her to come was the time that it went wrong.” At Nicolo’s questioning look, Yusuf elaborates, “Bandits.”

“Yusuf...”

“I hadn’t really known how to fight, then, so it didn’t… really matter, either way-- but I got knocked out in the fight, and by the time I woke up again, it was all over.” With a slow breath, Yusuf looks down at their interwoven fingers. “I would like to forget some things. Not her, but…” 

It takes Yusuf a long moment to continue. He looks up, towards the stars, lips pursed with thought, before eventually ducking his head again. Nicolo waits quietly.

“It is hard to remember them,” Yusuf says eventually, to their hands, “without remembering them in death. I had to bury them both.”

With a soft noise, Nicolo reaches forward and pulls Yusuf into a hug, arms wrapping about his shoulders; Yusuf responds in chorus and reaches for Nicolo back, his embrace tight enough to grind bone.

Nicolo rubs a hand up and down Yusuf’s back, his face tucked into Nicolo’s shoulder. Perturbed, Nicolo can’t imagine it- the comforting memory of his own mother, crossed and tainted by violence so cruelly. To lose her was enough. To lose the comfort of remembering her as well would be harrowing.

Yusuf pulls away first after some time, eyes red but dry, mouth turned down. Nicolo reaches up and thumbs at the crease between his brows, which quirks Yusuf’s lips ever so slightly.

“How old were you?” Nicolo asks.

Yusuf reaches up and takes Nicolo’s hand from his face, wrapping his fingers around his. “Twenty one.”

“A child.”

“Hardly, Nico,” Yusuf snorts softly. Nicolo disagrees, but he’s not going to start an argument over it. Not now.

With a sigh, Yusuf leans back against the rock formation behind them, wrapping an arm around Nicolo and tugging him sideways against his chest. Nicolo rests his head against Yusuf's shoulder.

“It’s not that I wish to forget her. Or my father. But I… would rather fondly remember the idea of them, the fragments, then remember them perfectly in death. That might make me selfish.”

“It does not,” Nicolo replies sternly. “It makes perfect sense to feel that way, Yusuf.” And then, “I’m sorry.” Yusuf only hums in response. It is, admittedly, a frail sentiment, so Nicolo adds, “I love you. In case you’ve forgotten.”

This earns him a huff against the top of his head. “I love you too,” Yusuf responds, and they fall into an easy silence.

After a few minutes, and with a great sigh, Yusuf tilts his head so that his cheek presses against Nicolo’s hair. “Nicolo…” he mumbles, hesitant, “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but... I think we’re sleeping under the stars tonight.”

Nicolo lifts his head and twists around to find the half-assembled and frankly pathetic looking tent swaying off in the distance alone, with both Andromache and Quynh nowhere in sight.

“The consolidated wisdom of millenia,” Nicolo grumbles, dropping his head back against Yusuf. “And they still can’t assemble a tent.”

Yusuf laughs; Nicolo is by far more warmed by that than any comfort the damned tent could have offered.

~

Quynh has the little joke of hers whenever they go drinking. She’ll tell Yusuf, giggling into her tankard, “I miss when you didn’t drink!”

This is a joke because Yusuf gave up his abstinence of alcohol only a few months after he and Nicolo had met Quynh and Andromache, nearly two hundred years ago now, and when he’d announced his decision to do so to the two warrior women, they’d both admitted they didn’t even realize that he didn’t drink in the first place. 

Nearly two hundred years later, Quynh continues to make this joke. Nicolo has yet to find it funny, but Yusuf laughs every time.

“It’s our anniversary, Quynh, you must be nice to us!” Yusuf insists in response to said joke. He is, as Andromache might say, drunk off his ass, swaying happily in his seat at the musty bar they’ve settled in for the night to celebrate. Despite how loudly he’s speaking, Nicolo can barely hear him over the clatter and bustle and chatter of the other, varyingly drunk, patrons at the bar.

“Three hundred years is nothing, Yusuf. You’re still babies,” Andromache replies, equally smashed yet bearing it more stoically, pitched against Quynh’s shoulder. One of her hands is still curled loosely around her tankard, unwilling to give it up just yet, probably.

Nicolo leans back against his rickety chair. “Do you two remember when you only knew each other for three hundred years?”

In response to this, Andromache pulls back from Quynh’s shoulder, propping herself up on the edge of a table with her free hand. She tilts her head, staring silently at Quynh with a quirked mouth, and Quynh stares back, eyebrows raised high. Nicolo’s gaze flicks between the two warrior women, eyeing them both, studying the emotion in their eyes and their mouths and their brows. 

For nearly an entire minute they say nothing. They have no need to. The charged gaze between them could write entire epics; legions of words pass between them and neither woman even opens her mouth.

Nicolo finds himself slightly jealous. He wonders if he and Yusuf will ever hit a point such as this, where they could communicate without words, know each other so well that even a twitch of the brow or a press of lips could mean so much-- that words become irrelevant. Become small and useless compared to the years of their bond.

“It was a time,” Quynh answers at last, smiling a far away smile.

“That’s different,” Yusuf interrupts, slurring slightly and grinning widely. “because, this isn’t about how long you two have known each other, but how long I’ve known Nicolo,” here, he gestures broadly at Nicolo, sitting at his side, “and when you two will have known Nicolo for three hundred years, and-- and want to celebrate, I will not laugh at your paltry few years spent with him, in comparison to my many centuries! And you may-- may thank me for my generosity and kindness-- then.”

Quynh snorts. “That was very poetic of you, Yusuf.”

“Thank you.” Yusuf places a calloused hand atop Nicolo’s head. “I love him very much,” he states, very sincerely, if a little slurred.

Andromache, as always, seems to feel a compulsion to try and ruin the moment. Their Andromache, old and wise as she is, is a great many things: an elegant warrior, a stern protector, and a graceful leader-- however, a kind drunk she is not.  “You know, you’ll get tired of each other eventually,” she points out, gesturing between the two of them. Yusuf rolls his eyes, his hand slipping from Nicolo’s head. “Quynh and I usually separate every couple hundred years for a time. It’s normal.”

“Bah,” Yusuf grumbles. “Andromache, you do not have a romantic bone in your body.”

“I do!” Andromache insists. Quynh sends her a sharp look that she doesn’t see because she’s too busy waving her hand widely. “I have been with, and wooed, and have been wooed by-- by more men and women than you’ve ever even set eyes on.”

Yusuf copies Andromache’s grand gesture, cheery and mocking. “That, what you’ve just described, is the opposite of romance, boss.”

“Whatever,” Andromache concedes with middling grace. “I’m happy for you two, either way.”

“Thank you,” Nicolo says, so that Yusuf won't say anything else. “Another round?”

~

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Yusuf says to Nicolo an hour or so later, as Nicolo is trying to haul the damned drunk up the stairs without sending them both sprawling down to their temporary deaths.

Funnily enough, around the time Yusuf began drinking, Nicolo stopped-- not out of any particular thoughts on alcohol itself, but because someone had to remain sober in order to drag Yusuf’s drunken ass back to their room at the end of the night, and the responsibility fell to Nicolo for all of the obvious reasons, and also because he was happy to do it.

“Who?” Nicolo asks, steadying a hand on Yusuf’s shoulder when he sways at the top dangerously.

“Andromache,” Yusuf replies. Nicolo’s not sure what exactly Yusuf thinks she was wrong about-- they’d discussed many topics at the bar downstairs-- but he might succeed in having this conversation more so if Andromache and Quynh weren’t standing no less than five feet away, hovering just inside their room’s open door down the hall, stripping down to their tunics and trousers.

Probably standing by in case Nicolo and Yusuf took an unfortunate tumble down the stairs. Nicolo is warmed by their concern, but Yusuf is too busy being drunkenly confused by Andromache’s presence after she calls over an “about what?” to think of such things.

“Where did you come from?” Yusuf asks Andromache, only going half willingly when Nicolo rolls his eyes and drags him down the hall.

“Thank you, good night,” Nicolo tells the two women as they pass their door and head down the hall to theirs, floorboards creaking under their boots.

“Have a nice anniversary, infants!” Andromach calls after they manage to stumble to their door, sticking her head out of theirs.

Nicolo fiddles with the key the barkeep gave him, trying desperately to ignore Yusuf when he yells back, “Us infants will try not to fuck so loud you can hear it all the way down there!” probably scarring some of the tenants.

“I bet you can’t!” Andromache responds, gleeful, and ducks back inside to slam the door shut.

“Is that a fucking challenge?” Yusuf asks the empty hallway, going easily when Nicolo drags him inside.

It’s a humble room, but the presence of four walls and a floor makes it good enough for Nicolo, and the bed is only an added bonus. He leaves Yusuf to his own devices as he lights the lantern set in the corner, double checking that their bags --that they’d tossed in the room earlier-- haven’t been stolen. He nudges the bags with a toe as he unlatches his longsword from his belt, propping the sheath up carefully by the little table with the lantern.

Yusuf is being oddly quiet; Nicolo turns to find the love of his life lying starfished on the little bed, peering up at the wood ceiling as if the secrets of the universe are engraved on it.

“I am so tired, Nicolo,” Yusuf mumbles, mournful. “Why did you make me go up all those stairs?”

“I am infamously known to be cruel and unfair,” Nicolo replies dryly, crossing over and sitting next to Yusuf. He unbuckles the straps around Yusuf’s shoulders that keep his scimitar attached to his back while Yusuf lies still. When the task is done, he looks up to find Yusuf staring at him, brows drawn together. “Lean up,” Nicolo orders softly, and Yusuf complies without complaint, shifting his shoulders off the bed just enough that Nicolo can pull his sheath off.

He stands to go retrieve his own sword, so that both can be placed at their bedside, within reach, shucking off his boots as he goes.

“Can you grab my bag for me?” Yusuf asks from the bed while Nicolo is doing so, so Nicolo does, balancing the two sheathed swords under one arm and holding Yusuf’s rucksack in the other.

He drops the bag at Yusuf's side and sits beside it, setting both swords at his feet, on the left side of the bed. Usually Yusuf’s scimitar goes on the other side, but Nicolo does not trust him with access to a sharp object in this state.

Yusuf sits up to shuffle through his bag. “I got you something,” he tells Nicolo when he straightens. Nicolo frowns at him.

“You got me something?” he repeats. 

“Yeah.” Yusuf pulls out his sketchbook, though he doesn't grab his bag of charcoals.

But I didn’t get you anything, is something Nicolo almost wants to say, but honestly, three hundred years into a relationship, you stop keeping track of how many gifts have been exchanged and when. Especially when their finances are so intertwined. Nicolo and Yusuf simply buy each other things whenever the urge arises, and they’re both such men that these gifts are usually just practical items: new boots, a thicker cloak, and so on.

But now Yusuf passes Nicolo his sketchbook, turning back to the bag to buckle it closed again.

“A sketchbook,” Nicolo muses with a smile, rubbing a thumb over the bound leather cover. “You shouldn't have.”

“Oh, stop,” Yusuf grumbles, snatching the book back once his bag is closed. He shoves it off the bed with a mildly worrying clank and sits in its vacated spot, next to Nicolo. “Your jokes will make you look a fool when you are crying tears of gratitude on me.” 

Nicolo smiles. Yusuf’s thigh, pressed against Nicolo’s, is warm, and his shoulder knocks against Nicolo’s with such familiarity Nicolo wonders if he could identify Yusuf from that alone; without sight, without hearing. He thinks he could, given the opportunity.

Yusuf flips through his sketchbook quickly, scanning past images of landscapes and crowded marketplaces and Nicolo’s own smiling face until he stops at a certain page, angling the book away so that Nicolo cannot see. He peers sideways at him, suspicious or maybe anticipatory.

“Do you expect me to start the tears of gratitude now, or…?” Nicolo asks, grinning at Yusuf’s unamused stare before Yusuf shoves the book into Nicolo’s open hands.

Nicolo doesn’t understand what he’s looking at, at first. Not that he doesn’t recognize the image; he does, he just doesn’t... understand.

“How…?” Nicolo asks, trailing off in wonder. He lifts a hand to touch the image, then snatches his hand away, afraid he’ll smear it.

It’s his mother.

He doesn’t understand how Yusuf could do this; drawing his mother is one thing, but the accuracy of the drawing to Nicolo’s memory is astounding. The line of her cheekbones and the crinkles of her crows feet, the shape of her eyes set by happiness. The drift of hair over her shoulder is a little longer than his mother had it, and a little straighter, but other than that it is an almost perfect recreation. Down to the curl of her mouth, the small flash of teeth. Nicolo can practically hear her in the image, her eyebrows raised and surprised joy flashing in her eyes, as she says, “That’s a big one, Nicolo, good job!”

“How did you do this?” Nicolo asks, voice small.

“Do you remember when you told me what she looked like?” Yusuf asks. “When we were talking about Andromache’s mother?”

“Yes, I remember,” Nicolo replies, frustrated. “I told you she had brown hair and green eyes. Yusuf, how did you--” He peels his eyes off of the drawing that sends him straight to his childhood. “You even got her smile right.”

Yusuf presses his lips together in a fond little smirk. “I will tell you, but you must agree not to share my secret.”

“Yusuf.”

Yusuf scoots that much closer, tucking a hand under Nicolo’s jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “I know how she smiles because I know how you smile. Because she’s your mother. And she lives in you, even if she’s been dead three hundred years. Even if you forget her to some small degree, she will stay with you. Here--” Yusuf touches the corner of Nicolo’s mouth. “And here--” His pointer swipes over Nicolo’s cheekbone. “And here.” He presses a thumb under Nicolo’s eye, and it comes away wet. He makes a small noise. “I was kidding about the tears of gratitude, Nico.”

The sketchbook almost falls off of Nicolo’s thighs in his urgency to pull Yusuf into a hug.

Yusuf returns the embrace with a huffing little laugh, arms wrapping around Nicolo’s waist and hauling him in close, the sketchbook folding closed between the press of their bodies, the beat of their hearts against each other.

“Thank you, Yusuf,” Nicolo murmurs into the crook of Yusuf’s neck, endlessly sincere. His fingers hook into Yusuf’s tunic, over his back, already pulled tight by the muscles there.

“Happy anniversary,” Yusuf responds cheerily. “To three hundred years, eh?”

“And three hundred more,” Nicolo reminds him.

“Fuck, Nicolo.” Yusuf leans back, hands lingering at his waist. He catches Nicolo’s eyes, his brows pulled together. “To three thousand more; Andromache doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Nicolo frowns, recalling Yusuf saying something of the sort in the hall. “What did she say?”

“What did she say?” Yusuf repeats thoughtfully. “I don’t remember-- some nonsense about us getting tired of each other.”

“Oh.” Nicolo does remember that. “I don’t think she meant it like that, Yusuf. And after all, she is rather the authority on how the relationships of immortals work.”

“The authority!” Yusuf repeats, mocking. “When Andromache kills a man with her bare hands and comes out the other side of the experience loving him, I will give her credence to the idea that she’s an authority over our relationship.”

“I didn’t say she was an authority over us. Just that she may understand better.”

“What, do you think she’s right?” Yusuf’s brow furrows, voice lowering. “That we shall grow tired of each other?”

“No,” Nicolo immediately insists, his desire to assure Yusuf strong and instinctual. He lets his hand slide to his shoulder, gripping there. “At least,” he admits on second thought, “I’ve never once felt anything to give me the impression that I will. But it may happen, Yusuf.”

To be completely honest, Nicolo can’t imagine such a thing. He’s woken up every morning for the past three hundred years of his life at Yusuf’s side, and he can’t even begin to understand what kind of drastic shift in his heart would inspire him to grow tired or restless of doing so. Of Yusuf’s hands, of his voice, of his glittering eyes and his loud, joyful laugh-- and the way he furrows his brow when he’s thoughtful, like he’s doing at Nicolo right now.

“Because Andromache says so? I think not,” Yusuf argues. “Andromache is wise, but she’s known us barely more than a hundred years. Her experience does not allow her to see to your heart, or to mine. I will love you forever, Nicolo.”

“Forever is a long time, Yusuf,” Nicolo responds, smiling.

“Well, I will,” Yusuf insists. “When we are twice as old as Andromache is today, and the memories of our childhoods, and our warring, and even our three hundred year anniversary will be nothing but dust, I will remember loving you with certainty-- and that will be because I’ll have done it every day of my life.”

Yusuf shrugs and presses closer, bowing his forehead to Nicolo’s. “And if we forget every bad time and every good time with it,” he murmurs, looking down, “I will not care; it will all wash away in the sands of time eventually, but I have no intent to be separated from you. I won't let memory or time or violence take you from me. I don’t care what Andromache says. The only thing that will end us is your word, Nicolo.”

Amused, Nicolo lets out a throaty little huh. “You will be waiting a long time for that, Yusuf. Maybe even forever.”

Yusuf grins at that, eyes flicking up, and Nicolo has that split second thought he always has --you’re hiding dimples under all that beard-- before Yusuf tilts his head up and kisses him, leaning forward with all the drunken weight of his body.

Nicolo catches Yusuf’s jaw in his hand, shoulders bunching up as he shifts so that Yusuf doesn't topple them both; tilts his head and grips Yusuf’s shoulder and kisses him back.

It is not, admittedly, their best kiss. But Nicolo’s found over the years that a kiss with Yusuf is a kiss with Yusuf, which is to say no matter how much their teeth clack or their mouths miss their mark, it is still Yusuf, so none of them are actually bad.

And Nicolo is distracted. Yusuf is one to spew pretty words whenever the mood takes him, but his aptitude for the spoken word even in the worst --or most drunken-- of times always catches Nicolo off guard; even three hundred years into their relationship.

Every day of my life, Yusuf had said, and Nicolo finds himself giddy and weightless at the idea. Every day of our lives, Nicolo thinks to himself, unable to fight off a smile as Yusuf pulls him in closer, a hand at his neck. Every day.

~

It is a fair while later --after Nicolo has pried Yusuf’s boots off, after the lantern light was blown out, and after they are both under the admittedly threadbare blanket-- that Nicolo lies propped up on his elbows on his side of the bed, admiring the drawing of his mother by moonlight. Yusuf lies on his back beside Nicolo, either asleep or drifting, arm thrown over his eyes and mouth pulled into a frown.

“Are you going to sleep tonight?” Yusuf asks groggily after some time, revealing himself to be awake. “Or must I compete with my own drawing for your attention?”

“You made a mistake giving me this,” Nicolo replies, closing the sketchbook and leaning over to set it carefully on the floor. “I will do nothing but admire it for eternity.”

With a huff, he settles under the blanket, facing Yusuf, crossing his arms to his chest. Yusuf responds with only a smile, and after the silence stretches for a moment, Nicolo adds, “I wish I could give you such peace in regards to your own mother.”

Yusuf drops the arm from his face, squinting sideways at Nicolo. “Pfft. You have already brought me more peace than any other living being on this earth. Give making me the happiest man alive a rest for a few minutes, Nicolo; you’ll give yourself a complex.” He rolls onto his side. “But also roll over. What are you doing lying all the way over there, anyways?”

“Giving myself a complex, apparently,” Nicolo grumbles, doing as he’s told and shuffling onto his side. Yusuf throws an arm over him from behind, snuggling forward and pulling Nicolo back in unison until they are pressed against each other, shoulders to thighs. 

“I am being truthful,” Yusuf murmurs after a moment, low and intimate and close, tired words slurring into each other. He yawns before butting his forehead gently against the back of Nicolo’s neck. “My mother-- I have many good memories of her, and some bad. I would like to forget some and cherish others, but in the end I will likely lose all or most of ‘em, as Andromache has. That’s just the truth of it all.” He yawns again, shifting his grip on Nicolo. “I could draw her if I wish, but I don’t know if even a thousand drawings will ease her memory. And losing memories is a simple trade-off of the life we live, even if we didn’t choose it. I may not keep my memories, but as long as I can keep you, I am at peace with it all.”

Nicolo considers that, tucking his own hands into his sides. As much as their immortality was not a choice-- it was nothing either Nicolo or Yusuf asked for or even really wanted, three hundred years ago, but it was gifted to them anyway. They didn’t ask for each other either, and yet Yusuf was given to Nicolo and vice versa in the same breath that their immortality was thrust upon them.

But of course, unlike the immortality, and unlike all the other positives and negative consequences that came with it, they did choose each other. They chose to put down their weapons. They chose to stay at each other’s side. They’ve chosen that every single day of the last three hundred years. Hopefully they will do so for the next three hundred -- thousand-- years.

He will lose his memories eventually, one day, one way or another. It is like Yusuf said: it is a simple trade-off of the life they live. 

But if it had been a choice-- well. Even the innocent comfort of his mother’s memory, of those late afternoons picking seashells-- those memories are not nothing to him, but if it ever came between keeping them and keeping Yusuf… the choice is obvious.

But there is no choice. The memories will fade one day whether he wants them to or not, whether Yusuf draws a thousand portraits of his mother or not.

Yusuf will not fade. Yusuf will be here. Yusuf has been here, for three hundred years.

Every day of our lives, Nicolo thinks, and smiles.

“You know,” he says quietly into the dark room. “You are a very wise man, Yusuf.”

“Don’t tell Quynh and Andromache,” Yusuf mumbles into Nicolo’s nape. “It will ruin my image.”

Nicolo snorts, smiles, and, eventually, falls asleep in Yusuf’s arms.

[heyheydidjaknow]

Okay, so the official update deadline for me is now every Sunday before I sleep. This is the second part. If the formatting is off, I apologize. Also, if you want to read the first bit, the link’s at the bottom. And the third one. I know there’s a way to make it so that touching on underlined text or something links you to the link, but I dunno how to do that.

Chapter 2

Surprisingly enough, the easiest one to convince of your legitimacy is Hamato Yoshi.

As soon as you walk into the lair, all you have to say to Ratman is that his daughter “was” named Miwa (obviously, dropping a bombshell like, “Your daughter is alive,” is somewhat bad form) and that he was going to give her a fan/knife thing, and he is convinced. Maybe it is to do with his natural compassion and/or naivety, but it allows you the option to sleep on the couch and not have to wander around to find exactly where the hell that address is.

You pull your knees to your chest as you stare blankly at the dead television screen, mind wandering as you listen to the accumulative sounds of the others. You are used to being awake at ungodly hours, of course, but typically they are spent alone; this is an uncommon occurrence. Now, anyways, you wish you had a way of contacting people. You already feel homesickness writhe around in your stomach, and your dread for what is going to happen next is outmatched by your gnawing curiosity regarding the fate of your family in the fire. Of course, you know their chances for survival was close to none, but—

“Y/N?”

You almost jump out of your skin, having not noticed the sinking of the couch next to you. You look over at the speaker, relaxing slightly. You put your hand on your chest. “Sorry,” you breath to Donatello as you try to calm your beating heart. “I uh, kinda zoned out.”

“It’s alright.” His posture is awfully stiff. “I just figured—ya know, since we’re going to be interacting more—we should uh, get to know each other a bit.”

You nod as you stretch your legs back out. “Sounds like a plan.” You turn your body to face him, shaking a little from the start but getting over it relatively quickly. “Oh, by the by, you’re the one that can kill me with your bare hands. You can and should relax.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little,” you shrug. “But, in your defense,” you smile playfully, “if some random bitch walked up to me and started telling me every detail of my past, I’d be hesitant to get too friendly too.”

“Oh, it’s not that!” He put his hands up, talking oddly quickly. “It’s just that you’re the first human I’ve ever met, and really the only person I’ve ever really talked to that isn’t one of my brothers or Splinter—”

A memory slaps you across the face. “Oh! Right!” You grab his hands, making sure his full attention was on you. “I gotta tell you something really important.”

He went red. “W-what?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to tell you outright exactly what’s going to happen,” you start, impulsively running your thumb over one of his knuckles, “but if you run into a triceratops man, or if you hear about a triceratops man, you have to kill him immediately.”

“I- huh?”

“Three or so episodes before the season three finale,” you repeat, “you or someone else is going to run into a triceratops man, who you have to kill. If you let him live, the world as you know it will be destroyed and sucked into a black hole.”

“Black hole?” He blinks. “So, in a few months, we—what?”

“Well, they call it a black hole, anyways.” You roll your eyes. “It’s pretty weak sauce for a black hole. I’d hasten to call it more than a portal, but, I guess, technically, it’s a black hole.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing.” He smiles awkwardly. “You know, for someone who just kinda popped out of the blue.”

“Well, yeah.” You smile back. “People like you inspire me to learn more about how the world around me works.”

His pupils dilate, and he breaks eye contact. “Wait, but you said that we had at least until the season five finale, right?” You feel his thumb wrap around yours slightly. “If that’s the case, how can a black hole destroy our world? We’d die with it, wouldn’t we?”

“See, you would think that.” You shrug, letting his hands fall between you two. “But the show is already playing fast and loose with science in general, so.”

“I am legitimately so confused right now.”

You sigh, patting him on the shoulder. “Me too, buddy.”

“I just—“

“Honey.” You stifle a giggle. “No combination of words will make any of this make any more sense than it already does.”

“I know, but—“

“Listen, if you ask me any more questions, we’ll start having to deal with more time travel bullshit then we’ll already have to.”

He sighs. “Okay, I’m dropping it.”

You nod, already feeling the sting of guilt. “But, hey,” you nudge with your shoulder teasingly, “if it makes you feel any better, you definitely got the most sugar than your brothers.”

He blinks. “What does that have anything to do with that?”

“Compensation? I dunno.” You pull your legs under you. “Just trying to make up for the fact that it’s really not a good idea for me to give out too much info about an uncertain future.”

There is an awkward pause.

“So,” Donatello asks gently, “if you don’t mind me asking, you said you died, right?”

You nod.

“So, uh, how did you…?”

“House fire.”

He blinks. “You… you remember—?”

“Yup.” You chuckle tightly. “Every excruciating detail.”

He tenses slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. Not your fault.” ‘My fault, actually.’

He rests his head on his hand. After a pause, “Do you know, then?”

“Know what?”

“You know, what happens after.”

You shake your head. “I blacked out and now I’m here. I’m guessing you don’t run into a ton of people like me.”

He cracks a smile. “I don’t really run into a ton of people period.”

You try to help lighten this stifling mod you have created. “Well, I’m glad your first introduction to humanity proper is through some psycho pseudo-Cassandra.”

“Less Cassandra and more just general prophet.” He grins. “If Raph believes you enough to go off the handle—well, I guess that’s just Raph in general.”

You chuckle. “Hey,” you whine teasingly, “lay off your brother. Obviously he’s a very levelheaded man.”

“Totally.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Cool as a cucumber, that guy.”

“Speaking of, where is everyone?” You look around the noticeably empty living room.

“Sleeping, probably. I tend to stay up later than they do.”

“And why’s that, Bill Nye?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier to work when people aren’t asking for help with things.”

“That is very fair.” You close your eyes as you lean against the back of the couch. “I must say, I’m not envious of your position.”

You hear him shift closer. “Why’s that?”

“If you don’t already, you’re probably—at least, from what I’ve seen,” you clarify. “Well, it seems like, sometimes, you have the world on your shoulders. It can’t be a good feeling.”

A pause. “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

You stretch upwards. “But” you continue, moaning softly as you feel your muscles crack, “if it makes you feel any better, I have—or at least had— access to the internet. I will gladly explain google.”

He clears his throat. “The internet search engine or the number?”

You grin. “Either or, although I would most certainly lose track if my zeros halfway through at best.”

He laughs. “It took me so long to figure out how to say it,” he sighs, “The trick is to just say zero for a long time and eventually just kinda zone out. You can really just stop after fifty and people won’t notice.”

“See,” you open your eyes, wrapping an arm around his shoulder—he certainly stiffened up quick— “that is why I like you, Donnie. You always know the score.”

He relaxes quickly. His speech is slurred a little. “You like me?”

“Hell yeah I do!” Your voice is noticeably lighter than it was before, more relaxed. “You are totally awesome, if you’ll pardon my candor.”

“N-not at all!” He smiled bashfully. “I’m flattered, really. I just—I’m surprised is all. I didn’t think you’d—uh—_like_ someone like me.”

“What? Why?” You are, apparently, extremely dense. “You’re the coolest guy ever!”

“Well, I’m not really a guy.”

“Wait, is this the whole turtle thing again?” You roll your eyes, leaning into him as you close them. “Dude, legitimately? I don’t care.”

His voice softened. “You what?”

“I don’t care. You’re smart, reliable, funny… I mean, what isn’t there to appreciate?” ‘I didn’t expect him to feel warm.’ “If I’m being honest,” you shrug in an attempt to stay casual, “and, if you promise not to give me shit—”

“I won’t,” he promises, almost eagerly.

You smile. “I will admit that I had a thing for you, along with many other people where I’m from. Fictional crush, you know.”

“You’re joking,” he challenges.

“Scout’s honor.” You raise your right hand, already starting to zone out. ‘Really warm…’

“You’re serious?”

You hum in confirmation. “I don’t…” You yawn, the weight of the incredible stress admittedly starting to take its toll. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable after what I just said,” you mumble, curling into him, admittedly not in your right mind, “but do you mind staying here until I fall asleep? Sup… surprisingly enough, you are ridiculously warm and comfortable and warm.”

He tenses up a little, but slowly wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve got nothing better to do.” His voice is gentle, soft.

“I owe you cupcakes.” You nod off.

--

You could tell you boosted his confidence if only a little bit. He stood taller the next night; admittedly, you feel a sense of pride at his pride. At least, it makes up for the verbal abuse from his brothers when they find you asleep together.

As you walk down the street that next night with Donnie shadowing you, you consider the pros and cons of revealing more about what you know; although there were certainly more items for pro, the chaos theory was sort of a big deal, and, knowing the reputation of this franchise and its post-apocalyptic bullshit, the last thing you need is to tempt fate. Still, something about this felt wrong, like not telling someone to get out of the way of a moving car. ‘Wish I were Cassandra,’ you think bitterly. ‘At least I wouldn’t feel bad.’

You stop in front of the offending building. ‘Finally.’ You look around for your chaperone and, after not seeing him— ‘Fucking ninjas, man.’—sigh and give in. “Good night,” you said to the open air.

You look back at the door, startled to see someone looking back at you. ‘You are fucking with me right now.’ You wave awkwardly as the man holds the door open for you. You step inside the building, making a beeline for the elevator. ‘A doorman? Really?’ The lobby was entirely too hotelish for your liking, the warm lighting bouncing off the smooth tile cleanly. ‘How much is this place, anyways? It’s fucking New York.’ You press one of the buttons. ‘If I’m the one paying rent, I am royally fucked.’

Somehow, via some sort of divine intervention, you find the apartment. You take the key out of your pocket— ‘Note to self: scavenge up enough money for a keychain.’—and stepped inside.

The apartment made you do a double take. It is so… familiar. Nicer than usual, more polished, yet somehow exactly how you’ would have used the space. The floors are hardwood, the walls painted a relatively neutral color that is easy on the eyes. As soon as you enter, you see the kitchen to your left; small, but considering it is only you, it would be perfect. To your left, down a short hall, is a bathroom—bright white surfaces with black countertops. And in the only other room in the apartment, in front of you, is a bed, a couch, some chairs, a table, a chest of drawers, a closet, a television, and a coffee table with a phone and an envelope on it.

You walk over to a large window overlooking the street, shutting it and sitting down on the couch. You pick up the letter first, carefully breaking its seal and pulling out a note and a card. Your heart leaps as you see your name in white lettering. ‘Well, having a credit card doesn’t sound too bad.’ You place it back onto the table as you start reading.

“Dear Y/N L/N:

We understand that the transition between your previous life and this one may be difficult, and we at The TIS are more than happy to provide for you and your needs during this transition period. Your questions are likely numerous. That is the purpose of this document, to address any concerns you may have.

Finances/Personal Belongings: The most noted concern of those just beginning in our program is to do with housing. We understand that it is incredibly important to the mental health of our members to have relatively stable housing, especially considering the strange, new environment they have been thrown into. Your residence is paid for by the TIS. All necessary emergency services (repair costs of any sort, medical bills, phone bills, etc.) and any utilities that may be included in said residence are also covered by this plan. In addition, your TIS assigned debit card will receive a daily balance of $300 (balance will change with inflation), which can be used at your discretion. Your residence has been pre-furnished to what our experts believe to be your taste, and your refrigerator and cupboards are filled with a variety of raw food items. Silverware, crockery and cookware has also been included. You have also been provided with various detergents and whatever hygiene products you used before your transition. These things will be replenished biweekly unless, for whatever reason, you start using different food/hygiene products. In this event, your inventory will be adjusted accordingly.

You are currently in position of one (1) weeks’ worth of clothing, including any undergarments applicable, which includes 7 pairs of pants and 7 shirts taken from your wardrobe, along with any clothing you are currently wearing.

Cell Phone: Your TIS assigned cell phone is, practically speaking, identical to your previous device. Any streaming services you were previously subscribed to, along with any you may decide to subscribe to, are covered by the TIS. Your login information is included with your banking/personal information, all of which is included in this envelope. If you wish to upgrade your phone as the years go by, or if you wish to purchase a second device, these log ins will still be available to you, although you will be required to purchase any additional software/electronics through our website: www.TISShop.org/FU. A charging cord and block are located by your bed. We recommend purchasing a case for your device.

Please note that all websites/services/apps previously available to you are also available via TIS approved electronic devices.

Employment: Employment has not been taken the TIS. We do not offer employment, although minors have been provided with a permit in the event that you chose to enter the workforce. If you choose to enter the workforce, aid will continue to be provided.

Enrollment: All minors are required by the TIS to enroll in their local school. Any documents required are provided in this envelope. If you are currently attending a college/university, or are thinking of enrolling/reenrolling, any credits you have accumulated will be transferred to whatever college/university you choose to attend. If you are currently a minor considering attending college, your funds will be provided by the TIS if applicable.

Identification: Any websites/services/products that are age restricted will be available to you, regardless of age.

Death: We at the TIS assure you that unnatural death, in your current situation, is not a matter that you need concern yourself with. While it is certainly possible to die, it is extremely unlikely, and we have the policy in place in the event of your death.

We at the TIS are aware of your awareness of the place you are now in. We wish to stress the importance consuming any media associated with the world in which you find yourself. If you gain nothing from this letter, please remember that we at the TIS are here for you, if only indirectly.

We wish you luck.”

The letter ends there. You check the envelope to see the other documents listed.

You stand up, picking up your new phone and laying down on the bed. You are left reeling from the little information you have been given. ‘So I was brought here. Well,’ you sigh, closing your eyes, ‘I guess I already knew that, but…’

You start scrolling through your device. Everything is still there, except for your contacts. You try to call what numbers you had memorized; they are apparently invalid.

You curl into a fetal position, clutching onto your jacket. “Well,” you mumble to yourself almost bitterly, “at least I know I won’t starve to death.” You decide against even turning the lights off as you hug yourself tightly. “This,” you decide, “is going to majorly suck.”

You nod off, already dreaming of smoke.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[frauleinjustice]

Present for J: suntan one-shot!!

Supriiiise~! I wanted to write up a short lil suntan one-shot for my good friend @magicalmasa for her birthday!! 🍰​​ I really wanted to post it yesterday, but I sadly became so much busier until nighttime, so I apologize for that: but I still hope this can be a lil surprise for you to see~!

Summary: Sunny and Kel spend the weekend night together, with Kel spending the night over at Sunny’s house! They have lots of fun, spending time together... and they’re boyfriends, so Sunny also loves to just... relax and be happy with the boy that he loves...

So basically, just some mindless suntan fluff! This is my first time ever writing Sunny and Kel, and an OMORI one-shot in general, so I hope it’s good, and that you especially will love it, J!! ☆ ilu homie!! And to anyone else who may read this, thank you!! Hope you enjoy as well!

Sunny liked weekends. Not just in general, but especially because he could stay up late with Kel. The other was going to spend the night at Sunny’s house. Since Mari was still away at college with Hero, it admittedly got a bit lonelier in the house... so whenever his boyfriend could spend time with him, it made Sunny truly happy.

They even made a blanket fort, bringing up snacks and drinks from the kitchen as they planned to watch some movies, play video games together, read some comics... jokingly telling themselves that sleep was the last thing they will actually be doing.

“Aww, I was so close! You really are too good at this game, Sunny.” They were currently playing a fighting game together, Sunny winning yet again as Kel dramatically sighs in defeat.

“...Get good, Kel.” Despite the stone-faced look on Sunny’s face as he says that, there’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he looks towards him.

“Excuse you? Where’d you learnt that from, huh?” He laughs, wrapping one arm around Sunny while his other hand playfully gives Sunny’s head a noogie. “If we ever play a basketball game together, we’ll see who’s the one that really needs to get good, hah!”

“Hehe....” A quiet giggle leaves Sunny from the noogie and Kel’s remark, playfully patting at his arm. Sunny wasn’t the most expressive, so it might be hard to tell if he’s being serious or not when trying to be playful or sarcastic. But of course; Kel knows Sunny more than well enough to tell. Sunny sometimes worried if he was far too quiet for Kel’s liking... but Kel always made sure to reassure him that he loves Sunny the way that he is. He doesn’t need to change anything about himself to make Kel love him more.

“Alright! Ready to make fun of some comically bad movies?” After letting go of Sunny, he holds up several DVD’s with a widening smile on his face. “I’ve got several.”

“Mmhm.” Sunny points to one of them, looking like some kind of action movie. The movie was so badly written that Kel was nearly spitting out his soda with laughter, and even Sunny almost choking when he couldn’t hold in his laughter as he was eating a slice of pizza. The sarcastic comments they’d make about the ridiculous parts of the movie, plus them sometimes mocking the characters if they said something stupid... made for one hilarious movie nights full of laughter and Sunny’s mom having to come into the room a few times to tell them to be quieter, them apologizing each time. Though she was happy to see her son having so much fun with Kel: it wasn’t often he had such a wide smile on his face and clearly looking like he was having a lot of fun.

As they continued to chat the night away afterwards while the TV was now mostly background noise for whatever channel was playing at the moment... sleepiness eventually did start to catch up with the boy as it reached 2am, them getting comfy under the blankets in their forts. “Sleepyyy... guess we failed the ‘Staying Up All Night’ objective, huh?” He chuckles, Sunny nodding in response. “But I don’t mind that. Cause...well...” Feeling his face starting to heat up, he wraps an arm around Sunny’s waist to pull him close. “I-It means we can fall asleep together...cuddled up and stuff. H-Hehe...”

“Kel...” Sunny’s own cheeks turned a light pink as he found himself huddled up closer against Kel. In the couple of months that they’ve started dating by now, they have cuddled a few times before, yet Sunny still felt his heart leap as if it were the first time they were doing so all over again. Kel felt so warm... he loves being in his arms. As he stares up at his much taller boyfriend, there’s a light smile on his face as he teases: “...Cute.”

“Ah-h-hey, come on! It’s already embarrassing saying this kind of mushy stuff. Don’t tease me!” He bashfully laughs, feeling his cheeks heat up even more. Kel really didn’t think, before he started crushing on and dating Sunny: that’d he find himself saying such intimate and romantic things. He jokes to himself that 12 year-old him would gag at the thought of saying such ‘sappy, cheesy’ stuff. But he didn’t mind that... he happily wants to get more used to it. He’s fully of love for Sunny... and wants to express that in every way, shape, and form that he can.  

A soft yawn leaves Sunny as he snuggles up against Kel some more, burying his face in his chest. He could hear Kel’s heartbeat... the sound being so soothing to him. He could listen to it all night if he could... “...You’re warm, Kel.” He softly mumbles, in a near whisper. “I like it... it makes sleeping feel even better.” And here he had thought before that nothing could beat the coziness of Mari’s former bed... but in Kel’s arms, he feels like he could drift off right away. “And your heartbeats....sound nice..”

“Sunny...” While it admittedly does fluster Kel to also be told such intimate things in turn, it made his heart warm. He initially never thought he’d be told such things before... and that someone could fall for him so deeply like this. He could still remember the day where he finally gathered the courage to confess to Sunny, and how unusually nervous he felt the whole time before doing so; and how happy their friends felt for him and Sunny when they told everyone they started dating. He could look back on it now and laugh it off, now thinking himself silly for fearing the worst if Sunny rejected him. He mostly had Mari to thank, since she of course knows her little brother more than anyone, and reassured Kel that her brother felt the same way: that he made Sunny light up in a way no one else could. And funnily enough, in turn: Hero reassuring Sunny that Kel surely likes him back, since he also knows his own little brother better than anyone else: and that Kel always looks especially happy whenever he’s with Sunny. “....I’m glad.” He mutters just as softly, smiling warmly. His other hand goes to gently comb through the boy’s soft black hair. “I wanna... be like a nice blanket for you to cuddle, you know? Kind of like how you feel like a soft pillow! Haha....” He gives Sunny a soft squeeze, humming as he softly nuzzles him more.

“...I’m happy, too.” He truly did want to feel just as nice for Kel to hold, too. He wishes he could go to sleep in Kel’s arms every night...Feeling his eyes start to droop, Sunny speaks up after a few moments. “...Kel.”  

“Yeah, Sunny...?”

“......” He could feel his heart starting to race. Even if he’s of course said it before, he was still so shy about doing so....it stil felt so foreign to him. But whenever he said it, it made him feel fuzzy inside: he was excited to eventually grow used to saying it. “....I love you.” Sleepy eyes dart up at the boy, his ears turning red.

“H-Heheh...” No matter how used to it Kel would eventually get... it still made his heart burst whenever Sunny tells him he loves him; and of course, he always wants to say it right back, too. Gently kissing the top of his head, he beams a brighter smile at him. “I... love you, too, Sunny! You’re the best boyfriend ever. Now let’s get some sleep...  I wanna continue to have lots more fun with you tomorrow. G’niiiight....”

“Mm: sounds fun. Goodni...” And just like that, Kel was already out like a light, hearing him softly snore with a goofy, content look on his face. “Falling asleep in seconds as always. Kel...” He quietly laughs under his breath, loving the dorky little traits about Kel like that. Honestly, everything about Kel, he adored. He found him to be the best boyfriend ever, too. He leans up real quick for a moment... so he can press a soft, light peck to Kel’s lips. With his arms wrapped tightly around Kel, he rests his head against Kel’s chest once more as he finishes: “...Goodnight, Kel.” Before he eventually drifts off, too. He was looking forward to the morning, to continue having more fun with him.

[jocia92]

(Google translated)

Dan Stevens, who grew up in Wales and south-east England, spent his summer holidays at the National Youth Theater at the age of 15, and he was drawn to the stage while studying English in Cambridge. Since his big breakthrough as Matthew Crawley in the hit series “Downton Abbey”, he has also repeatedly appeared in films such as “Inside Wikileaks - The Fifth Force”, “At Night in the Museum: The Secret Tomb” or “Beauty and the Beast” . Most recently, Stevens played the Russian Schnösel singer Lemtov in the Oscar-nominated comedy “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” from Netflix. At the beginning of June, the German film “Ich bin dein Mensch” by Maria Schrader celebrated at the Summer Berlinale Premiere, which starts on 1.7. comes to German cinemas regularly. Stevens plays the role of a love robot in it. Unlike on the screen, however, the 38-year-old prefers to speak English in the zoom-conducted interview. He chose a brick wall with a lion motif as the digital background. No allusion to the song “Lion of Love” from “Eurovision Song Contest”, but a photo of the famous Ishtar Gate in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum, where “I am your human” was filmed last summer.

Mr. Stevens, in your new film “I am your human” you play a humanoid robot that is entirely geared towards fulfilling the romantic needs of a skeptical scientist. You yourself recently described the film as “delightfully German”. How did you mean that?

I wanted to say that here pretty big questions - such as what actually makes a person or how much perfection love can take - are negotiated in a very light-footed, elegant and sometimes humorous way. In my experience that is a very German quality. At least I have often seen with many of my German colleagues and friends that they are very good at not discussing difficult issues exclusively deadly serious and melancholy.

Where does your personal connection to Germany and the German language come from?

My parents had friends who lived in Bielefeld and we used to visit them in North Rhine-Westphalia during the school holidays. Traveled from England by car! That’s how I learned a little German as a child, and later I learned it as a subject at school. I even did a short internship there through our friends in Bielefeld. I really love the language. Funnily enough, I was later able to use my knowledge of German professionally, because my first film was “Hilde”, in which I was next to Heike Makatsch played the British actor and director David Cameron, who was married to Hildegard Knef. After that, I always hoped that there might be another chance to speak German in front of the camera, because playing in a foreign language is an exciting challenge. When the chance arose to shoot “I am your person”, I could hardly believe my luck.

Did you know the director Maria Schrader who gave you this chance?

Funnily enough, when the script for the film landed on my table, I had just watched the Netflix series “Unorthodox”, which she directed. I had also watched a few episodes of “Deutschland 89”. In general, I knew that she was a great German actress, not least because friends who knew their way around the German theater scene often raved about her. Working with her was a joy now. Her understanding of actors is quite instinctive and brilliant. I have seldom seen someone who can help an actor who is having difficulties with a scene with such simple means.

The fact that you had already seen “Unorthodox” shows, of course, how quickly “I am your person” must have been implemented in the past year …

Oh yes, that was really quick. In March I was still in New York and was about to premiere a new play on Broadway. But then the pandemic came, everything was canceled and I flew back to my family in Los Angeles. A few weeks later, Maria and I met each other via Zoom - and shortly afterwards I was sitting outside in a café in the Berlin June sun for the first time in months to discuss the upcoming shoot with her. That was pretty surreal because I hadn’t actually left the house since March.

Is it correct that you oriented yourself to Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart to portray the romantically programmed robot Tom?

In any case, these were role models that Maria and I spoke about. When you think of the game between the two of them, you always see an enormous clarity and directness. Cary Grant, for example, was always quite funny, especially in his romantic roles, but also flawless in an almost artificial way from today’s perspective. I found that very suitable for a robot. Apart from the fact that the ideas that Tom and his algorithm have of romance and love are certainly also shaped by the classic romantic comedies from Hollywood. Oh, the woman is sad, so I’ll bring her flowers! Such automatisms from the stories from back then were very appropriate for Tom now.

Keyword role models: Who shaped you in your career as an actor?

There were of course many. Jimmy Stewart was certainly something of a role model. My mom and I watched a lot of his films when I was little and I was always impressed by the kind of sweet tragedy that went into all of his roles. But maybe Robin Williams’ work influenced me even more. I always found the incredible variety of his films remarkable. He could make his audience laugh hysterically like no other, but also move them to tears in other roles. I always wanted to emulate this range.

In fact, the range of your roles is enormous and ranges from the Disney blockbuster “Beauty and the Beast” to a comic adaptation in series format such as “Legion” to bulky independent films such as “Her Smell” or the horror thriller “The Rental “, Which we just released on DVD. Is there a method behind this diversity?

Not in principle. I like variety, but I’m not just looking for roles that are as different as possible from one another. Rather, there are always similar factors that I use to select my projects. Sometimes there is a certain director that I really want to work with. Or the role itself is irresistible because it presents me with acting challenges. And sometimes a script is just fantastically written and I am interested in the topics it is about. With “I am your person” it was definitely the latter, especially since the timing was just right. In 2020 there were so many societal questions that ultimately touched the core of human existence. Such a script, which deals with something very similar in a light-footed way, was just fitting.

A few years ago you said in a questionnaire from the British Guardians that your greatest weakness was not being able to make up your mind. So every time you are offered a role, do you ponder whether you should accept?

No, no, when a script appeals to me, it actually does it very quickly. It’s such a gut feeling. If I’m unsure and skeptical, that’s a good indicator that this is not the right thing for me. That with the difficulty in making decisions related rather to something else. For example, it takes me forever to order in a restaurant because I can never decide what on the menu appeals to me the most.

You became famous with the role of Matthew Crawley in the series "Downton Abbey”. Did you immediately suspect at the time that something big was going on?

At first we were all pretty clueless. There are really many British history series, and we were one of them. When the first season aired in the US and was a huge success there, it was pretty unexpected. I never expected the impact the series would have on my career.

Barely ten years later, are you still being asked about the role?

Oh yes, regularly. Probably nothing will change about that either. I got out after three seasons!

In the meantime, however, the flamboyant Russian singer Alexander Lemtov from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should also be a character with whom you will be immediately associated, right?

Right, it has been mentioned more and more recently when people recognize me on the street. This charming, silly film obviously had a nerve with the audience last year in the middle of the corona pandemic. Especially since the real Eurovision Song Contest had been canceled.

The film was the number one topic of conversation on the Internet for a while - and Lemtov GIFs and memes were everywhere. Did you follow that?

It was really hard to avoid it. I wasn’t looking specifically for what people were posting. But of course my friends passed a lot on to me, and there were already some very funny Lemtov things. But he’s also a figure made for GIFs.

Another question every British actor under 40 has to put up with these days: Would you like to become the next James Bond?

Oh, of course, everyone gets to hear this question again and again who meets certain criteria. But it is completely hypothetical. Although a few years ago I read in an audio book by Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale”.

You mentioned earlier that you and your family have lived in the United States for a long time. How big is your homesickness?

I actually feel very comfortable in Los Angeles. But every now and then I miss the sidewalk culture of European cities. People on foot, street cafes, things like that. Last year the longing for it was particularly great, although it was of course clear to me that there was a state of emergency in Europe too. In any case, I found myself reading books that were set in Europe and made me homesick. Which is why the unexpected trip to Berlin was really a boon.

You are also an avid cricketer. That’s certainly difficult in Los Angeles, isn’t it?

There are quite a few cricket clubs here. The only problem is that the few people who do the sport here are so good at it that I have problems keeping up. That’s why I always lose sight of the matter here a little. Even as a pure TV viewer, it is not easy to stay on the ball, because of course there is no cricket broadcast here at prime time. But as soon as I’m home in England in the summer, I really want to play again!

[ailelie]

bakugou becomes a teacher

Okay. So I read a fic in which Bakugou Katsuki of all people decides to become a civilian after graduation. It mostly makes sense in context. And, well, my brain wouldn't leave the idea alone.

Let's say that is what happens.

One day while interning Bakugou saves a class from a villain, but gets stuck in a precarious situation with the class and teacher until other heroes can get them out. His explosions might get him free, but would put everyone else in danger. So he has to sit tight.

And, you know what, let's make it Todoroki Fuyumi's class. They have to work together to keep the kids from freaking out. And she compliments him on being good with kids. And they start talking. She asks him why he wants to be a hero and then says something like never caring much for the rankings, that they seemed a very narrow way of determining worth. Bakugou defends them and she shrugs. "I never needed a number to tell me I was making the world a better place."

(Fuyumi might be trying to hold her family together and may be willing to forgive her father, but she has to blame something and in this AU she blames the rankings themselves).

After they're rescued, she invites Bakugou to visit her classroom in a safer setting. To his surprise, he accepts.

For the first time, Bakugou has an adult (outside of family) in his life who doesn't care about heroes that much and who has a very negative opinion of the rankings. For the first time in his life he is praised for something beyond his ability to explode.

It isn't enough to turn him from his lifelong path, but he does start to question why he wants to be a hero and just what being the best really means.

Then he's in the park one day and there's this kid getting bullied for having a weak quirk and he's thrown back to his past a bit, but he also thinks about what Fuyumi would do and intervenes. Someone on the sidelines, someone who was watching it all go down and doing nothing, compliments him afterward and tells him he's good with kids.

And Bakugou thinks to himself, 'yeah. I am.'

He still gets a thrill from a good fight and taking down villains, but he finds himself lingering afterward to make sure the civilians are all right and checking in with the kids.

His classmates are confused by the changes in him. He's still explosive, but when he's kneeling down in front of kid and showing off tiny sparks along his palm, he's kind.

He's visiting Fuyumi's class again. And she is teaching her kids about heroes and how anyone can be one, even if they don't go pro. "You're a hero when you make the world a better place," she tells her kids.

And it hits home. Bakugou starts thinking about how he makes the world better.

Internship time comes around again and this time he seeks out rescue heroes. He says it is so that he can be the best in all types of heroism, but he knows it is something deeper than that.

(He does eventually figure out Fuyumi and Shouto are related. Shouto is more bothered than he is).

He still spends time in Fuyumi's classroom. He asks her why she became a teacher.

He isn't ready to face what he's considering. But part of him feels more comfortable in her classroom than in the hero office where he's interning.

He can't face what he's considering. Bakugou Katsuki becoming anything less than the #1 hero is unimaginable. Isn't it? After all he's said and done, can he really do anything else?

Fuyumi listens and says he can.

So. Very long story short, after high school, Bakugou accepts an offer from an agency in Tokyo, but spends his spare time taking classes to become a teacher. He keeps it a secret from everyone. He isn't sure yet, but he wants the ability to choose.

And, after a year, he quits the agency and disappears into Tokyo. He's afraid of what his friends will say and so he cuts off contact. Some are easy to stop talking to. Some (Kirishima) hurt. He only keeps up contact with Fuyumi and makes her promise not to mention anything to Shouto.

He becomes a middle school teacher.

Years pass.

It has been 10 years since graduation. He's 28. Still single. Still teaching. His kids are little shits year after year, but he loves them. He doesn't tolerate bullying and teaches kids that being a hero means making the world a better place.

Then one of his kids ends up on the radar of villains. His quirk turns whatever he touches with all five fingers invisible and noiseless. He uses it mostly for mischief, much to every teacher's despair, but he isn't a bad kid. Still. The villains are after him and this means he gets assigned a bodyguard.

Bakugou freaks out a little when he learns a hero is going to be in his school, but calms himself because what are the odds that it will be someone he knows? There are lot of heroes. Not all them are from 1-A.

But then the hero arrives and it is Red Riot.

It's been about 9 years since Bakugou dropped from the hero scene. It has been about 9 years since he's seen his former best friend.

"Ba--" Kirishima cannot draw a full breath. "Bakugou?"

"You know my sensei?" the kid asks.

Kirishima doesn't hear him. He's still gaping.

Bakugou is gripping the back of his chair tightly enough he's afraid he'll break it. "Take your seats," he manages to say, forcing his gaze away from Kirishima's.

Just his luck. Of all the heroes in Japan.

(It could have been worse, he guesses. It could have been Deku).

At least Kirishima has to stay with the kid. Except, another hero assumes body guarding after school ends and Kirishima doesn't go home.

"You teach?"

"Obviously."

"What happened? You--"

"Look. No one here knows about who I used to be and I'd like to keep it that way. So just, don't, okay?"

(His language is cleaner now than it used to be. Still a bit harsh, but he's been in a classroom too long for it to be the same as when he was a kid).

He expects, rather, hopes Kirishima will leave it at that, but apparently Kirishima hasn't changed that much in the past 9 years. He still intrudes.

"What about drinks then?"

"No."

"Tomorrow?" His smile is still blinding like the sun. Bakugou knows himself better than he did at 18 or younger. He knows he'd love to bask in that smile, but he forces a frown and says, "No" again.

"Soon then," Kirishima says, refusing to accept "No" as a final answer.

Bakugou groans and thinks about who Kirishima might tell and says "Fine. But I'm picking where."

He takes Kirishima to a small neighborhood bar not far from his apartment. He feels safer on his own turf. "Look," he says as they walk to the bar, "We're doing this with one condition: you don't tell anybody you've seen me."

"But, Bakugou, people have missed--"

Bakugou stops walking. "Promise me, Kirishima, not a word."

Kirishima turns to stare at him and then his shoulder slump. "Not a word," he echoes.

They get drinks.

It becomes a thing.

Three weeks pass while the heroes scramble to take down the villains after the kid and nearly everyday Kirishima and Bakugou get drinks after school. After the first two weeks, Bakugou reluctantly invites Kirishima to his apartment to continue talking.

Three weeks and one evening Kirishima is called away mid-conversation for a raid. They've found the villains and it is time to attack.

Bakugou waits impatiently back at his apartment and worries. Part of him wishes he could have gone with Kirishima. But that isn't the life he chose.

Kirishima calls him after midnight. It is done. He's safe. The kid will be safe. It is all over.

Bakugou feels...bereft.

Only. The next day (a day with no Kirishima in the back of the room pulling faces, trying to make Bakugou laugh in the middle of his lesson, no Kirishima talking with the kids over lunch, no Kirishima just existing so close in his sphere once more) Kirishima meets him at the gate of the school after classes end.

Instead of going to get drinks, Bakugou leads him directly to his apartment. As soon as they're inside, he hugs him. And Kirishima hugs him back.

"I've missed you," Bakugou admits for the first time since Kirishima walked back into his life. He pulls back just enough to look at his (former?) best friend.

"Same," Kirishima says, his smile soft but no less warming.

And Bakugou wants to kiss him. The thought is terrifying.

Kirishima frowns. "What's wrong?" He skims his thumb up and down Bakugou's side. They're still standing so close together, so entwined.

All it would take is a step back and the moment would end and they'd just be friends again and everything would go back to whatever normal was these days. Instead, Bakugou raises his hand to Kirishima's cheek, sucks in a breath when Kirishima leans into his palm instead of pulling away.

"Bakugou?" Kirishima asks, quiet and uncertain.

"Shut up," he answers, leaning in slowly enough that his intent is unmistakable. He expects Kirishima to pull back at every moment. He expects to wreck everything between them. But he remembers the worry from last night and missing him all day and decides to be selfish and hope.

Kirishima meets him partway.

They end up dating. Mostly secretly. They meet at Bakugou's place for the most part or at the bar. Kirishima stops meeting him at the school gates. Bakugou's colleagues suspect and some tease him for bagging a hero. Fuyumi knows. Kirishima's friends know he is seeing someone, but he refuses to reveal who.

"He's a civilian. He doesn't want involved in hero life and I respect that."

Kirishima yearns to tell them everything, but he promised Bakugou to keep his secrets, so he does. Still, it kills him to keep quiet when Kaminari mentions Bakugou one evening and everything spirals into a "where is he now" game with the most popular answer being an overseas hero or an underground hero. Or deep undercover somewhere.

At some point Kirishima ends up moving in with Bakugou. They're disgustingly domestic. Bakugou cooks with an inspiration he hasn't felt in years. It is different cooking for someone else.

Kirishima brings home case work and discusses some of it with Bakugou who might be long out of the game, but still smart and sharp. Bakugou brings home his grading and works on it while slumped against Kirishima on the couch while the TV plays.

Kirishima updates his personal information making Bakugou his emergency contact. He tells people he's moved, but keeps the location secret.

The emergency contact information becomes relevant a few months later when the villains he'd helped take down before escape prison. He's injured in the fight against them and taken to the hospital.

Bakugou gets the call. And he hesitates before leaving. If he goes to the hospital, he will likely run into other heroes. His secrecy will be out the window. He almost stays at his apartment, rationalizing that Kirishima would understand.

He's literally standing at his genkan, torn between rushing out the door and stepping back into his apartment. His keys bite into his palm, he's gripping them so tightly.

And he remembers kissing Kirishima for the first time before they even got their shoes off. And he wonders when he became such a coward. Heroes make the world a better place and Kirishima's world will be better if he isn't alone.

He steps into his shoes and goes.

The hospital is surprisingly calm. His nerves are haywire and he's expected the world to reflect that, to be just as chaotic. He's allowed into a small waiting room outside of the surgery. Several heroes are waiting there also for news. He recognizes Ashido, but she doesn't look up when he enters. He takes a seat away from the heroes and waits and hopes.

When a doctor enters, everyone is ready for news.

"What's going on?" Ashido is asking as soon as the doctor opens the door. "Is Kirishima all right?"

"I'm afraid I can only release information about his condition to his partner," the doctor apologizes. Bakugou realizes that means him. He stands.

"I'm here. And it's all right. They can hear."

Ashido is staring at him like she's seen a ghost.

"You're the civilian boyfriend?" she hisses once the doctor has delivered his report (surgeries have gone well; they can see him soon).

"You got a problem with that?" he asks.

"Where did you go?"

Kaminari enters then, out of breath, one arm bandaged and butterfly stiches over his brow. "How's Kiri--Bakugou?"

Bakugou feels short of breath, but he forces a neutral expression. "Yeah?"

They question him. And it is annoying. But he can't leave without seeing Kirishima, so he deals.

"Where have you been?"

"Teaching."

"Why did you leave?"

"Because I wanted to."

"Why did you stop texting?"

"Because--it was for the best."

"Bullshit."

He shrugs. They bicker and the questions start again.

Finally the doctor allows them back to see Kirishima.

Kirishima who is surprised, but pleased to see Bakugou. Who realizes what coming cost, but doesn't comment on that, instead saying, "You know what this means, right? Movie night!" Like they were still back in the UA dorms. Like the past decade were nothing at all.

Bakugou has to accept that his friends never stopped caring about him and slowly he starts to socialize with them. Kirishima runs interference, stopping questions that get too close to demanding to know why Bakugou wasn't blasting his way up the hero rankings.

Bakugou isn't ashamed of his profession, but he's clung to his secrecy for so long that letting go feels too revealing. He hates feeling vulnerable.

Then Kirishima breaks into the top 10 and gets invited to a celebratory banquet. He asks Bakugou to be his plus-one.

Bakugou accepts. They go. He talks with the other significant others about their careers until he gets recognized. By Deku. Because of course Deku, the current #2 and soon to be #1 hero is there.

"Kacchan?!"

"Deku."

And this is the moment he's dreaded the most, but now that it is here, he feels weirdly calm.

"Where have you been?" Deku asks, like everyone asks. "What are you doing here?"

Bakugou shrugs. "Teaching. I teach middle school." He nods toward Kirishima. "I came with him."

Deku gapes and Bakugou smirks. There's something satisfying, he decides, about stumping people so hard.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to make the world a better place."

And the banquet goes on. Bakugou finds his way back to Kirishima and claps when he gets an award for being #10 in the rankings.

"How do you know so many heroes?" one of the other civilian significant others asks him.

"I was one for a while. Decided to teach instead."

That knot of anxiety is gone.

He meets up with Fuyumi a few days later and tells her about the banquet and how he's reconnecting with old friends.

"Thinking about going back?" she asks him.

He shakes his head. "Nah. I like where I am."

And that's the fic.

[raisedinerebor]

I See Fire

Paring: N/a

Song: I see fire - Ed Sheeran

Warnings: I know a lot of us are going through the fires going through Oregon, California and Washington right know and it’s probably the last thing you want to read about right now. So im just letting you all know that this is what this story is about.

An: Speaking of which, this is one long vent of a story. I’m in one of those states currenlty on fire. And i’ve been nothing but an anxitey filled mess for the last week. This is just my way of trying to calm down. I’m considering myself lucky. The fires haven’t quite reached where im at. They’re insanly close though and every so often keep on getting pushed back. But it’s driving me insane. I seriously cannot see the mountain right across where I live. It’s compleatly shrouded in smoke. I’m safe. My family is safe. And i’m thankfull for that. 

I hope all of you stay as safe as you possibly can.

Tags: @fizzyxcustard​

Ash fell from the sky like snow. Blanketing the world around us in a sea of grey. Smoke filtered through trees and hung high in the air. Smothering us with each aching breathe. It’s all we could smell anymore. Smoke. It clung to us like a promise made to be broken. 

The only thing we could see as well. It obscured towering mountains and once green trees. It made the sky cry red. Like some sick joke. As if we already weren’t in a living hell. It filled our lungs with ash and laughed when we choked.

Our days were filled with fear and trepidation. The promise of fire just around the corner. Our livelyhoods hung in a delicate balance. Any moment we could be forced away from our homes with whatever we could carry. With nothing more than memories of past lives.

We could only hope and pray that we wouldn’t end up like everyone else.

That our last memories of home won’t be that of dancing flames swallowing our houses. Of our lives.

.

.

.

My body shook as I jolted awake. My hands trembling as I place them over my pounding heart. I breathe in deeply. Cool mountain air filling my lungs. I almost cried then.  It wasn’t that long ago that I was there. Home. In a world of never ending smoke.

None of the Company knew that. All they knew was I was just some kid that was tagging along. I don’t know what magic brought me but I know I will make it send me back. As long as my family is stil there I will not stop fighting. Each day has been filled with anxiety and worry. I’m scared for them. It’s not fair that i’m safe here. Well. Relativly safe. As much as I can be with the impending doom of Orcs and other beasts that make thier home in this world.

I sit up and draw my blanket tightly over my shoulders. Wiping away a few tears that slipped past as I breathe in deeply once more. The only thing I have been thankful for since coming here. Fresh air. Free from smoke and ash.

“Y/n?” I glance up as Bilbo sits in front of me. I take the cup he offeres to me. It’s some type of tea. Sweet on my tongue with a minty aftertaste.

“Ya?” I take another drink.

“Are you okay, my dear?” He tilts his head to the side. Blonde curls fall softly and catch in the early morning light. I smile. Or at least try to.

“I’m fine Bilbo. Just thinking.” He reaches out with a hankerchief. Softly, as if though he were scared to hurt me, he brushed away tears I hadn’t known had fallen. He shakes his head.

“Something tells me that it’s quite the opposite.” He sits to the side of me and pats my knee. “You can talk to me. The others are sleeping and whatever you say will stay between us. That much I can promise.” He takes a drink of his own tea. “Me an you are quite the outsiders here and I think we should stick together. Don’t you think?”

I clear my throat and take a drink.  “I don’t think you want to hear about my troubles and woes, Mr. Baggins. And the last thing I wish to do is burden others with my troubles.” He shakes his head.

“Quite the opposite. Know. Please, tell me. Maybe I can help.” I jump as a few of the dwarves around us stir. Thorin going as far as to turn and pull his blanket further over his head.  He had the last of the night watch and probably wasn’t too keen on being woken anytime soon.

“My homes burning.” Bilbo looks at me. Eyes blown so wide I caught hint’s of green in his hazel eyes. “Before I came here. To this place. The states around me are on fire. And the one I live in.” I hug myself.

“And i’m one of he lucky ones. We are only on what they call, level one evacuation. We not so close that we can see flames but. Fuck. It’s so close that ash is raining from the sky.” I swallow thickly. “All around us is nothing but smoke and ash. People wondering where they’ll go if and when their homes burn. We’ve already backed up things we will need if we have to leave but.” My eyes burn as I blink away tears. 

“I’m scared Mr. Baggins. I’m so fucking scared that i’ll lose everything I have ever known. I’ve grown up in the same house my entire life. All those memories. All my family. I’m scared for them. Even if it’s not all that close to us yet. It’s all I worry about. All I could smell or taste is smoke and ash. It’s etched itself into every article of clothing and I can’t seem to wash it from my hair.” I wipe away the tears falling. “It’s so terrifying to watch the whole world bath itself in red. And i’m so scared. It’s not fair that i’m here and my family is still there.”

I look up, afraid that he’ll leave me where I am now. Open an vunerable and very much a scared little kid. But, instead, he pulls me in close. 

“We’ll get you back my dear. No matter what it takes. Gandalf has a plan. I know he does. And when it’s all done an over with just know, no matter what, you’ll have a home with me. That’s the only consolation I can give you now my dear. I hope that it will be enough.” I sniffle and nod my head. It’s not. Not really. But i’m not going to tell im that. I won’t be fine until i’m home again. But it does help. Even if its just a bit.

He pulls away all to soon.

“I have to get breakfast going my dear. You just rest a little longer. Okay?” I nod my head as he turns to leave. Only to jump a mile high as I catch Thorin sitting upright and staring right at me. Blue eyes pericing into my very soul. How much of that did he hear?

Shit.

I get up and make a beline to the tree line. The blanket falling from my shoulders and landing in a heap behind me. I walk along the small deer trail Gloin found the other day. It leads to a rather small stream but its enough to help wash away any signs that I had been crying.

The cold water stings as I splash it against my face. Sitting back on my heels I use the edge of my shirt to dry my face off. I grab a few pebbles and toss them into the water. I could hear The Company coming to life. FIli and Kili’s joivel shouts the loudest of them all. I don’t want to go back to camp. Not quite yet at any rate.

I stand up and grab a few smooth-ish looking rocks. They only skip across the water a couple of times. I try a few more times before deciding to give up. I jump back as a rock skips all the way to the other side. Leaving small ripples on its path.

“You have to flick your wrist a little more, Lass.” It’s Thorin. Damn. I kick at the pebbled shore before turning to look back to the other side of the stream and to the mountains towering above us.

“What’s going on? Are we leaving early today?” It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done that. Thorin desprate to cover more ground before the next downpour.

“No. Not today. I’ve decided we need a much needed rest.” He takes a few steps closer to me and places his hand on my shoulder. Fingers brushing away a few strands of hair resting there. “And me an you have much to discuss. Come.” I swallow thickly as he guide me towards an old fallen log. His hand never leaving my shoulder even as we sit. 

I fiddle with the rings on my fingers. Anxiety filling me as silence surrounds us. Thorin takes my hand into his and brushes his thumb along my knuckles. My hands were shaking. He clears his throat and looks up and off into the distance.

“I heard you speaking with Master Baggins.” He looks at me. Blue eyes distant and soft. If I had know any better I would have said he look upset. Sorrowful even. He brings my hand up and presses a chaste kiss to it.  “Lass, if I had known I would have moved us non-stop to Rivendale. Even as much as I do not wish to go there, im sadden to admit they would be able to help you far more than I could. They could get you home more quickly. For if magic is what brought you hear, surley they have the means to get you back the same way.” Once again i’m brought to tears.

“No one should have to watch their world succumb to flames. Much less at such a slow and steady pace.” He bows his head and gips the key around his neck with his free hand. “I have seen what fire can do. I know the feeling of heat licking at your skin and ash in your lungs. And have seen the charred remains it leave behind.”

I don’t think before I move. My arms seem to wrap around him of their own free will. My face burrying into the crook of his neck as sobs shake my body.

“I know of that fear you speak of, Y/n. And I mourn the fact that you have to live through that. I swear to Malhal that we’ll get you back home as quickly as possible. Your nightmares don’t need to be bathed in red.” He pulls back and rests his forhead on mine. One hand on the side of my face and the other rests at my hip. Callosed fingers tracing circles onto exposed skin.

“We will get you home.”