#also sorry if any part of this sounds short or ignorant when covering the topic. i was trying to keep concise to the inquiries and not delve

[distortedkilling]

I'm sorry if this is a too deep question out of nowhere, but on your HCs, how do you think the curses (and mahito especially) perceive gender? Mahito uses masculine pronouns in canon, but do you think he identifies with a specific gender? Is agender? Is interested in studying the importance we humans give to it, or thinks it's too stupid and unecessary? Does he comprehend certain prejudices that humans have due to gender ideas? I was also going to include asking about sexuality too, but I think this is already a pretty big ask </3 have a good day S2

Feel free to ask anything you like! I love deep questions.

With curses in general I think the context matters - as in, the type of curse they are. Say a curse exists that was born from the suffering women have endured, I feel like that curse would be more attached to the associated gender because its existence and nature surrounds that gender specifically. Whether that curse has the sentience or care to identify as said gender is another thing to consider. How a curse presents itself could be directly related to that gender its nature is associated with, or it could be a more ambiguous thing that covets aspects of the specific gender despite being something more akin to agender.

I think it comes down to the nature of the curse (why the curse was born to begin with) + the level of sentience of the curse (if it possesses the awareness to care about gender). I think a curse lacking sentience/awareness that identifies as a gender is likely echoing its nature without consideration - like a ghost looping in the place it died. Curses seem to echo "gibberish" about what made them or is related to their birth.

By default I lean towards the 'no' zone of curses perceiving gender to the degree humans do. While gender can be important to the type of curse it is, gender doesn't actually serve a purpose beyond that to them. It's entirely a human construct in terms of identification. Gender serves a reproductive purpose, sure, but how many curses are out there making babies? I ask that because curses, as we know them, lean more into negative and destructive habits than positive and creation based ones.

The context of a curse is what can give them a gender association, but a curse possessing sentience to some degree is what can define their perception on gender - if they even have one.

With Mahito I think he understands humans value gender perception. I don't think he personally cares deeply on the matter himself in terms of identification, but he likes the way the male form feels more-so than the female form. From the angle I write him from, I feel like he's agender but likes to be masculine presenting in body to a degree.

(Side note: I have a running theory way off to the side on the fact he was more masc leaning because human hatred, fear and betrayal in history has been more knowingly caused by men and patriarchies. That's not me saying women haven't done shit things in history, mind you, since Mahito isn't really bound to any one gender doing one. But predominantly in history, regardless of country even, we see male leaders of nations or clans being the ones to decide the fates of others. Betraying their people, enslavement, forcing their people into war, murdering for their own gain or enjoyment, etc. and the greater documentation we have of it regarding men over women.

It made me think that maybe Mahito's development into a masc leaning build was influenced by that. But he also keeps his features feminine leaning because plenty of women in history have also done wrong. Both in the past and present day - whatever the span of energy was that built up enough to make him. Or remake him (again and again).

It's a very tentative thing I'm considering because obviously it Doesn't Sound Great on paper. But Mahito is a little bit of a scholar of sorts, between human psychology, philosophy and (in my opinion) having some manner of interest in history - I can see him kind of playing with this angle because it could feel right to him to embody aspects of what birthed him. Presenting as a feminine man also is its own topic that inspires stupid amounts of hatred in people. Seeing as Mahito likes to make people upset, uncomfortable, etc. I can also see him forming his body based on that.

And while I know a person's art style is liable to change here and there and what not - I find it fun to think that Mahito is just shapeshifting himself a little here and there. Thins his muscles, gets a little leaner now and then, sometimes gets more bulky. Adjusts depending on his wants or if he thinks it's necessary to.

Anyways, these thoughts in here are just tentative ones I'm musing on because I'm trying to factor in the things that birthed him and how they've played a role in humanity. So take this section in parenthesis with a grain of salt for now.)

Back to your inquiry, I think he'd be interested to learn how humans perceive it and what the fuss is all about. The subject of gender in the modern era sparks a lot of negativity between those who are going unheard and those who are obtuse on the matter. I think Mahito understands gender in the form of human reproduction and doesn't inherently think more on it beyond that. If someone corrected him on how their identify he'd take a second to consider their physical form and if it was based on that or based on their mental perception of themselves. Either way, I don't really feel like he'd have a care in going along with how someone identifies as, since gender to him isn't a huge deal. On top of that, his interest in psychology and philosophy surrounding the subject is probably the saving grace here that would have him be interested in going along with it. Because without that, he really wouldn't care and would call someone whatever came to mind. This isn't to say he's a nice curse, btw. Mahito will likely make rude jokes at the expense of someone. Gender, orientation, whatever regarding all that isn't really off limits if he wants to be mean in some way.

I think Mahito has a good understanding on the prejudices that exist. While he has no real attachment to gender as a curse and just decides based on his whim of what he likes at the time, he understands the value humans have with it and the negativity that generates because of the subject. Hell, he was probably born from a decent chunk of the hatred ignorant people have on the subject and the hatred (and fear) people on the other side of the debate (nonbinary, trans, etc) also experience. Mahito sees this issues humans face and thinks they are silly things to squabble about. But hey, they are generating negativity and kind of proving his own ideology so he isn't about to complain either.

Also feel free to ask about sexuality! I'm pausing this answer without that part because I'm not wholly sure what about it you'd like me to address. If you mean how curses or Mahito perceive sexuality? Or if he associates with that-- like similar questions here just flipped for that subject or something else. So rather than presuming I'll let you feel free to ask if you'd like so I can give the inquiry the attention it deserves.

If I didn't answer something enough, feel free to specify and I'll clarify my thoughts further. I don't mind at all.

Mind anyone who gets this far, this is just my own opinion of how I write Mahito. It's fine if you disagree with any part of it. ^^

Thank you very much for asking! It was lovely to answer.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| into you | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k+

summary: as the uni campus’ social butterfly, it’s a given you have a lot of friends, invited to almost all gatherings and all adore you. for the latter, jaehyun does too. he’s so into you and likes how you’re his happy place. or; jaehyun— an unsocial, often misunderstood person, finds his behaviour different with you and perhaps wants to keep you for himself, not anyone else.

genre: fluff + elite!au

a/n: i’m back after a while since i’ve been so so busy! this is not proofread again and i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes down there :> this is not canon with “letting go” scenario in case there’s any similarities with the characters. hehe anyway i hope you all enjoy reading! ♡ ~j.

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seated at the front row in the amphitheatre-shaped lecture hall, jaehyun frustratingly put his hood back on to hide himself from those who were staring from all around. they were definitely whispering about him, hands by their lips to conceal their voices in case he heard them. he hated this much attention, all because he chose stay of out school and classes— and claimed that it didn’t interest him.

so did coming today.

but the point was his attendance for this class was on the line and his busybody parents were sick of receiving phone calls or mails that kept filling their boxes, all for the same reason; that their son could be expelled despite handing assignments.

he rolled his eyes at the heat creeping up his ears as the whispers grew louder. he slammed the thin granite table, causing everyone to flinch at the sound and his presence. “can i have some quiet?! i can hear you guys talking crap about me!” he turned around at the pairs of eyes, soon frozen like meerkats.

they ticked him off. he couldn’t stand being in the same room with people who repeatedly questioned his existence of being here. he knew that rumours were going around, that the ‘jeong jaehyun’ in high school got into an private elite university— it could be anywhere but never expected it‘d be this campus. it was written in the judgment of their faces.

“chill man,” a guy his age swung his lollipop with legs on the desk. “some are curious why you decided to show up today since first semester’s a week away from ending, while some even wonder why you got into such prestigious and elite university.”

jaehyun’s eyed him slowly from legs to head. “who are you supposed to be?” he snorted at the stranger.

“just a guy who wants to break the distraught you’re trying to start.” he kicked his legs off the desk and stood up on his suede shoes, showing off his pearly whites.

he looked at everyone whose eyes averted from the two of them. “our town’s a small neighbourhood, so everybody knows everybody. we know exactly who you are, jeong jaehyun.”

“excuse me?” he swirled his tongue that it was evident he was pissed. “careful what you accuse me of. you and i both know it’s not going to end well-”

“they’re near they’re near!” a voice echoed the hall, cutting jaehyun’s attempt to intimidate the young man any further.

and with that signal alone, jaehyun could see and observe ladies fixing their hair and make-up, while the guys gave fistbumps to those near them. he rolled his eyes at him returning the favour to them as the guy unbuttoned his collar. “what’s wrong with you?” jaehyun was utterly weirded out. “with everyone?”

the crimson-haired guy only gave a flirty grin with raised brows. “this happens everytime.“

the door swung open with the professor rushing in. the students swifted heads, it wasn’t the first time he ever was late. he was young and good-looking, and it was hard to believe he still a bachelor. he gestured someone at the door, then the held-in giggles and mumbles were soon replaced with whispers of awe, as you walked in carefully with a tower of binder folders halfly covering your view.

clearly the guys around him have been secretly admiring; some had the confidence of taking selfies even if you were far, while others took a picture with their eyes so you were marked in their memories. ladies flocked towards the flustered professor like little chicks and surrounded him.

and that’s when the comments started coming in.

“park seojoon is so hot.” “hey remember to use ‘professor’.” “i guess genes runs in the family.” “his sister is ethereal too.” “i see her weekly and y/n’s a goddess.” “y/n! are you coming to the party tonight?”

jaehyun knew who you were through social media and common friends. and he included himself part of the people who admire you. he also remembered because he bumped into you during orientation. he wouldn’t usually care about passerby’s and strangers and although that was a brief moment and short eye contact, something about you was hard to not forget. you had people and friends under a charming spell he couldn’t describe, and that was in a good way.

you tucked a strand behind your ear and became shy afterwards as they whistled and cheered towards your gesture, making you heat up a thousand degrees higher. you should be used to this but every time it happens, you were just as flustered as your brother.

jaehyun’s legs got up on its own and was surprised at himself for making his way to help you. he picked up the fallen binder files and scattered papers while the whiskers by your eyes creased up in shyness.

he hitched a breath realising that the clumsy you was adorable too.

“thank you.” a smile then appearing at the corners of your lips caused jaehyun to freeze for a while. yuta wouldn’t miss anyone’s reaction. he slid his chair close to jaehyun’s as the he came back, nudging his chair for him to give into your beauty.

“i know a person with heart eyes when i see one. now you understand why we’re whipped for y/n. isn’t she a babe- agh.” he held the back of his head from the smack.

“don’t call me that, nakamoto.” you hissed sharply with how confident and careless he could get, especially with people you weren’t familiar with. you looked at the guy in a black sweater and let out an embarrassed sigh. “i’m sorry about my annoying best friend. yuta tends to be chatty when he feels lonely.” you winked at him.

it was jaehyun’s turn to flash short chuckle, its faint sounds perked not only your ears, but yuta’s as well. “not a problem. i know a lonely person when i see one.” jaehyun emphasised through his gaze.

“i’m not lonely! i have y/n and my men!” he whined and turned towards you. “see what you did y/n?”

“it’s good to finally see you, jeong jaehyun.” you ignored yuta and brought out a hand for a greeting.

you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, jaehyun’s ears quickly turned from pink to red. he gulped loudly and took your hand in his, eyebrows lifting at how you knew his name.

lost for words and you both locked eyes where he forgot to let your hands go. “we take the same course together? i know your name because you’re the only one missing from the class-” you said, shaking his hands to subtly let him know it had been a minute since your hands felt his vainey flesh.

“okay young lad that’s enough time holding my sister.” seojoon separated your hands and jaehyun snapped out of his admiration, inhaling quite stressfully with how stupid he looked. “get to your class y/n.”

“alright, i’ll see you at tea hour.” you waved at the boys.

“as long as you’re treating i’ll go.” yuta hummed in a monotonous voice, fixing his laces that went untied.

“i’m not talking to you dimwit.” you flicked his forehead, leading to your satisfaction of the nut-like sound from it. “jaehyun, because you missed yesterday’s class, prof assigned me to assist you, along with the other topics you’ve yet to cover. i’ll be expecting you at the café near campus.”

before you stepped out of the hall, yuta pulled your sweater, yanking you back. “are you going to taeyong’s party tonight? you never miss an event!”

you puckered your lips, pinching his cheeks that a cute gummy smile came out from it. “you know my rules. as long as you’re driving me home, i’ll go. see you later.”

jaehyun nodded yet was still in a daze. he realised what you said when yuta pushed him. “gross. don’t act as if we’re already close.”

“hm? was i really? i think it’s normal when you’re making a move on my best friend.” he brought out his laptop and typed his password.

i wasn’t. “whatever.”

and to say that jaehyun didn’t feel butterflies flying uncontrollably in his stomach would be an understatement. they made the intestine churn in ways he couldn’t imagine, and he himself wanted to deny that what he was feeling was just from the influence of others. but wouldn’t that mean his feelings were temporary? because if it were, he should perceive you an ordinary person.

yet here he was outside, still admiring you before he entered the café. he found it was amusing of how oblivious you were of his presence— you were too immersed into this assigned task by professor, but others found it funnier when jaehyun looked stupidly in-love and cowardly the lad looked, despite having the overall aura of a stuck-up.

as the sun’s rays brightened the city and the wind’s breeze made the trees leaves dance, only then had you raise your head to see jaehyun waving at you. ten minutes early, not bad for an actual first impression. “hey,” he greeted, making you smile with his low but gentle voice. “am i late?”

you took your bag from across and asked him to sit down. “no no. you’re just in time, it’s really nice to have an early bird around.”

his dimples deepened at the compliment. “how about the project? is it too late? you think i can still catch up?” jaehyun cleared his throat.

“that depends on your dedication. based on the record professor gets, you’ve been doing your tasks and homework quite diligently. he’s just worried about your habit of not attending his lectures might lead to procrastination when second semester starts.” you gave him a slice of cheesecake to eat. “he’s still teaching us another subject.”

“it’s quite the contrary.” he dove in for the dessert. “i don’t have the will to procrastinate at all.”

“then good.” you twisted the pen in your fingers. “let’s get started?”

for that span of two hours, how he wished it could be more. who knew you would have a lot of things in common with him? that time alone was not enough to talk about vinyl and jazz singers and pretty much everything that were overlooked by people. he brought up his favourite spots in the city and how they became a safe haven to escape the reality.

to cut the explaining short, his shell slowly started to open, bits and new things were showing. if you were surprised he was a good person, jaehyun himself couldn’t believe he was able to converse with people normally. being the awkward and shy type, doing this almost seemed impossible.

was it your magic that caused him to do so?

you learnt that jaehyun was rather special and by special it meant he had gifts that you believed were way beyond human limits. he never studied in a library, rewatched lectures or written his notes. and the professor mentioned how jaehyun received good grades in most of the things he submitted.

to be very honest, you were a little jealous. from how he was sitting in front of you, he didn’t seem to be interested but was definitely listening. and you sort of gave up in continuing anyway. “i don’t understand why i’m told i need to guide you when you’ve already caught up with everything.” you let out a soft chuckle that seemed more of a question.

“i was waiting for you to stop..” jaehyun said quite blatantly and stretched his arms and you were hurt because if he didn’t want to, he could’ve said so. heck, even more so, he shouldn’t have come here and wasted time-

“..because it looked like you were forced to do this by prof.” his smile then faded seeing you mirror the same. “are you alright? you’re a little pale..”

your eyes widened. “oh uh, sorry, i assumed-” you sputtered and probably died inside with what he said. you cursed in your mind. dammit y/n.

jaehyun raised his brows, making you more flustered and panicky. you sighed and waved your ‘its-nothing’ hand. “assumed that i’m brusque and a stuck-up?”

he pierced his eyes at you and you weren’t going to lie, he scared you a bit. but that fear immediately disappeared when a gentle giggle and adorable dimples replaced it. “i get that a lot, but don’t worry. i’m different from what people think. they think i’m not friendly, a-and a loner too.”

“you’re not.” he heard you counter him, slightly slamming the fork down. “if you were, you wouldn’t be here with me. or even bothered to come.”

his heart became warm through your words, that act of kindness torn down his walls of inferiority and his perception towards people changed. “thanks.” he checked the time on his watch and twisted his wrist to show to you. “don’t you have a party to attend to?”

“lee taeyong’s?” you stood up to leave the café. “i feel like skipping it for tonight. i’m not in the mood for parties somehow.”

“because i’m a better company for you?” jaehyun teased and boy was he proud with his remark, you didn’t even deny it. “you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. it’s better to have time for yourself sometimes.”

“you’re saying from experience?” you asked, putting pressure on your words about his claim of being alone.

“it’s more of an advice for you.” he winked.

you thought he was quite observant even though he barely socialised with others. he noticed the light in your eyes sparkling, in which he felt his chest squeeze. you twirled in your toes as you hugged your laptop. “say.. are you up for a movie marathon?”

—

including now, it’d be the fourth time you both have rewind the specific scene just for that certain song jaehyun kept singing nonstop. and although you loved his voice, having the song on replay would be a little too much and the purpose of the marathon might go in vain. it seemed jaehyun was way into it, so interrupting him would be mean of you so you sang along.

“the nostalgia still hits me ‘til this day.” jaehyun tossed a bag of chips from your kitchen island to you.

jaehyun kept saying it may sound stupid and corny coming from him, but as a child he liked the whole high school musical series; and he pretty much became one when breaking free started to play.

because you both couldn’t decide where to watch the beloved movies by everyone, the marathon ended up being at your apartment. it was subtle, yet quite obvious to you he didn’t want it to be held in his place. you thanked your psychology course for giving lessons to notice even the little things in behaviour.

“how many times do i have to keep telling you it’s okay to like it? not like anyone would tease you for it.” you giggled as you opened the bag and popped a couple of chips into your mouth.

“yeah sure, but i know you would.” he squinted his eyes for you to admit that that was your plan eventually.

“have i?” you singsonged, sipping on the large cola cup.

he pointed at the hairbrush you held and suddenly you bursted out in laughter since jaehyun was obviously— maybe a little— offended with how you mimicked him singing earlier. “okay you caught me.”

jaehyun felt his entire body heating up. still in denial about actually being into you, he took a challenge upon himself and scooted next to you. his arms slightly brushed and touched against yours. “you in for hsm 2?”

“well we are having a marathon, might as well go for camp rock later.” you shrugged and eyed him with a confirming gaze.

“uh-huh.. but i’m still a fan of the trilogy.” jaehyun stole the chips in your hands.

“now aren’t you cheeky.” you gasped at his playful behaviour, and you didn’t dislike it. perhaps you prefer this naught over yuta’s as it didn’t get into your nerves or have the urge to hit him because of the hyperness.

he sat deeper into the beanbag. “i’m comfortable in here. your house feels too homey.”

“so is it my fault that you’re in your comfort zone?” you stated, taking the bag of chips back into your arms.

“yes.” he protested with frequent waves of his palms. “you’re too kind and i might come here to visit often.”

“suit yourself.”

since he arrived here it had him wondering, why did he decide to show up today at campus when there was actually a pure human being like you? he just needed a person— just one— to knock onto his heart. yet with many people in his life trying to do the same thing, none held the correct key. and somehow,

it had to be you.

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you’ve lost count of the number of times jaehyun has been hanging at your crib since then. it became a normal routine but never have you been to his place. it was always yours and you didn’t mind that. though he did promise, you respected his decision.

you found out he could be little dorky and corny but that was the unique trait about him. like friends at kindergarten, you both were still at a get-to-know-each-other stage. so that day, he created a schedule where he would hang out with you on wednesdays and fridays, claiming that he didn’t want to be seen by others, e.g. mr. nobody with ms. golden girl.

however, since then, people close to you have been looking at you rather differently. it wasn’t because they sometimes see jaehyun following you around, they sensed a different aura from you. you could feel their piercing stares from all directions, as if you were the centerpiece of a watch. there was something a little different than usual.

and you tried to ignore this ominous feeling for now.

yuta shook his legs vigorously, in which was an unsightly act to see for someone on the soccer team. you could see him from afar with his hands by his lips, biting it as he waited for your arrival at the university’s sports ground. jaehyun jogged towards you with his bag slung diagonally across his torso. he poked your neck and as a person with severe tickle spots, that caught you off guard into a fight-me position to the doer.

“chill, it’s just me.” jaehyun had both of his hands up, whiskers appearing just by the sides of his nose.

“jaehyun!” you relaxed your limbs. “got a better way of greeting? i don’t like being surprised.” you pulled the hem of his sleeve, missing how he pursed his lips in glee when you both instantly became close, like it was overnight.

he let you grab him as you both walked towards where yuta was standing by the bleachers. “i’m sorry?” he giggled loud enough only for you to hear. “i thought i’d get a priceless reaction from you.”

you rolled your eyes that it almost hurt doing so. “be glad i have enough patience for you.”

“and i didn’t have enough patience last night!” yuta joined the conversation seeing you and jaehyun before him. “where have you been? you said you were coming to my place yesterda- why is he here?” he looked at him then at you. “with you? again?”

“ever thought that i want to have my own ‘me’ time for once?” you took off your cardigan and placed it on the bleachers. you could feel jaehyun chuckling softly when you made reference to his remark.

and boy was he proud. “you’re emphasising on that quite often nowadays.” he helped you carry your bag as you to settled down.

“that’s because i never realised how true it actually is until i say it out loud, since being in everyone’s eyes does pressure me.” you balled your fists to nudge him lightly on the arm, and for him to dramatically receive the attack did put yuta in an awkward position.

“uh hello? i’m still here!” in front of you and jaehyun, yuta snapped his fingers several times to divert attention. “what’s going on with you two? how are you both suddenly so close when you’ve just met for the first time two weeks ago?”

jaehyun swifted his head towards you, and the telepathic exchange of words between you and him had yuta clicking his tongue in disbelief. “you were right, he will react.” jaehyun’s voice prolonged while munching on a corn dog.

“told you so.” you flicked your hair and turned to yuta as you continued talking. “bestie, we’ve been seeing each other since then.”

what the hell? the way yuta’s face turn sour at your smile towards jaehyun, he could almost faint right then and there since he swore he saw mr. dimples smile subtly at you too. “and with just that i’ve been replaced-”

“no i would never replace my best friend.” you held his palms hoping he would calm down from his high emotions, but he immediately pulled his hand away from you, much to your dismay. “hey, i’m here to make amends-”

“yeah?” he clicked on a pen and wrote something on a tissue, soon grabbing your bag from the seat and fished out your wallet. “then you’re treating me my meals for a month. i have another order right now.”

now it was your turn whose face became sour. “a month?! i can’t do that- hey!”

yuta tossed your credit card up in the air and upon seeing his eyes darken— though that was all in your head—you gave in and sighed heavily. you stomped your way to the caféteria while yuta comfortably put one leg on the benches with a satisfied grin. “man she’s easy to tease.”

“is that so? then i know now who she gets it from.” jaehyun said through his chews on his food, making yuta’s ears perk up at the response.

the atmosphere lingering between the two of them invited dark clouds. both could sense the change in their moods, and they both weren’t liking it.

yuta spun and played the ball on his hands then forearms, later let out a scoff when jaehyun raised his brows. he didn’t like the vibe jaehyun was giving and so did the latter. “i do it for fun. it’s natural between us.” yuta said.

“hm? she told me she doesn’t like it when you do.” he saw you on your tiptoes as you struggled to tell the order to the person at the high-levelled counter. but another scoff came out from yuta. “you got a proble-?”

“yeah kinda.”

“i don’t think so. i can tell it really bothers you when y/n hangs out with me.” jaehyun sat up straight at yuta’s comment about him.

“i should be. because i’m her best friend and who knows what type of person you are.” he did a few tricks with his legs. “but if you really want to know then your attitude is what i have problems with.”

“i remember telling you it wouldn’t be good for you when accuse me wrongly.”

he let out a monotonous and rather mocking laugh, taking jaehyun aback but he anticipated this kind of response from him. “and what? you’ll go berserk like you did years ago? as a high school freshman? beating the innocent up or whoever comes your way?”

“look i don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s not what you or everyone else thinks.” jaehyun aggressively crumpled the hotdog wrapper in his palms.

“c’mon you don’t have to hold it all in,” yuta set his ball aside and rested his hands on his waist. jaehyun was getting uncomfortable the more he listened to him. “unleash that side-”

jaehyun rolled his tongue, nodding his head to test him. “alright, i guess i don’t have to when i have feelings for y/n. thanks for the advice.”

what the..? yuta stared at him when there wasn’t a change in his expression. jerk- “now you’re talking. you wanna fight? let’s do that-”

“tsk yuta! the bill’s too expensive!” you whined and gently put down the tray.

while yuta clicked his tongue at your sudden entry and with how quickly you came back, for a moment jaehyun wanted to hug you for being his saviour. he was so close to lose his temper towards your best friend. the relief seen in his tensed shoulders, but you interpreted it otherwise. “are you okay?” you asked while you sat down beside him.

he hummed, folding his arms and looking at the distance, clearly avoiding eye contact with yuta. “mhm, i just realised the deadline is coming up in three days.” he excused.

you managed to utter out a giggle as you finally ate, finding out how jaehyun’s ears always turned red when given attention to. “you’re stressed about it?”

“aren’t you?” jaehyun drank the remains of his soda.

“not really since i finished mine. but, if you’re worried about your progress, i can help you.” you swirled the fork in the air like a wand. jaehyun smiled to himself when yuta took his ball to throw a fit.

“i’m not worried about the project. but there’s an annoying bug i’m trying to hit so help me.” jaehyun’s dimples appeared deeply again and as the darkening ombré sunset shoned his side profile, there you witnessed how pure he actually was— and you missed out on yuta’s frown towards jaehyun.

you gulped and almost choked on your own saliva, eyes still locked in jaehyun’s. his hair caught in the wind, making it look fluffy and his entire demeanour softer than you usually see him. you hitched a breath since jaehyun seemed like he had no plans to avert his gaze too. both of you were definely mesmerised and hypnotised, and for jaehyun it was just like that time. he remembered the colour palette of your makeup while you recalled the perfume he wore.

in the recent marathons with him you’ve never been this close, physically speaking. so this close-up really debunked the impression you heard from people, especially from yuta.

however, as you were oblivious with the pressure behind jaehyun’s words and even smiled back at him, yuta flicked your temple. he was indeed a worry wart and sometimes he would like to flick you just this once for being too much of a social butterfly. he knew it was in your nature to be kind and always on the look out for others. he’s fine when you were with anyone except with this guy you befriended. not him.

he dodged your flying limbs in attempts to hit him. “oi, you’re not going to ask how i am? if i’m worried?”

the pain from the flick remained on your temple. “no? you look fine to me-” you stared at your phone. the message reminding you of the singles elite party a month from today at 8pm. “a party?”

“yeah if you attended the previous party you’d know that there’ll be another one after taeyong’s.” yuta took off his shoes in change for his casual.

“hm. i’m don’t feel like going.” you jumped off the bleachers to dust off your pants. “probably gonna be boring.”

“i’m the one who’s holding it this time!” yuta put you under a headlock in his arms. “you’re ditching your best friend?!”

you giggled and ticked his sides and followed it with a playful hug. “just kidding. i heard from momo! i’ll be there.” you brushed your hair up into a messy bun while spotting jaehyun starting to feel out of place. “oh! do you wanna come to the party, jae?”

yuta mentally facepalmed and it was given he didn’t like what you did. but your eyes were quick to see his reaction and you slapped his chest. he glared at you while his hands caressed it. why did you have to invite him? it was the whole purpose why he decided to hold a party; maybe you’d finally appreciate his hardwork, or perhaps, notice him as someone more and as not a best friend who only worries and teases you.

jaehyun nodded in response, no words needed. a smile crept your lips as if you were given chocolates on valentine’s. “cool.” you pulled him on the wrist after hearing the coach calling yuta, followed with a loud whistle. “ah yuta, we‘ll get going! see you.”

“mm yeah..” yuta hummed, seeing you both vanish in the distance. “see you..”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your sulking self laid sideways by jaehyun’s lap, head rested on a pillow. it’s been too long since yuta avoided you, purposely ditched your hangouts, seenzoned your messages and ignored your calls. as if these weren’t obvious enough for you to know something was up. there definitely was but you couldn’t put a finger to it. so you forced jaehyun to let you stay at his place, being it your apartment was currently invaded by your brother’s friends from abroad.

but honestly it was also because you discovered jaehyun’s unit was blocks away from yours. fate was gladly on your side.

“y/n, you know i can’t work properly when you’re like this.” jaehyun sighed while he adjusted his sitting posture and lifting his laptop.

you slightly and lazily your body turned upright, seeing his dimples beginning to show themselves. “let me be.” you complained.

jaehyun put down his laptop. “i can’t. you’re in my way of cramming hours. plus, how long have you been coming here? it’s getting too frequent..” he paused when your eyes were no longer on him— rather they were on your phone, staring at the last conversation from yuta.

he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was reason why yuta acting the way he was to you. and for all honesty he would keep this matter to himself. “did i do something wrong?” you asked.

“of course not. he’s probably in his emo phase. guys have them a lot more than you think.” jaehyun typed on the keyboard for the remaining parts of the essay. “but he’ll get out of it eventually.”

“fine i’ll trust on that.” you sat up and scooted over to see his progress. you submitted your assignment hours ago. looking at jaehyun, it seemed he was struggling at some parts. were you unconsciously pressuring him? the beads of sweat began to roll down his temples and that made you giggle if it was the case. uh-huh. he was really feeling that way.

he gulped so loudly that it came out as a weird noise. he hoped you didn’t hear that. but the way you pursed your lips to hold the laughter in only had him discontinuing his report. “d-don’t do that.”

“do what?” you snicker.

jaehyun rolled his eyes and poked your forehead. “you’re too distracting.”

oh how the tables have turned. that comment flipped your head upside down, your heart in a frenzy and stomach churning. it wasn’t “so”, but “too”— that only meant he wasn’t concentrating on his work for a while.

even so, you waited for him to finish despite questionable feelings you’ve been feeling. his coffee cup already did seconds and thirds. and suddenly you remembered the happy hour the local café was promoting and there was a few minutes left until it ends for the day. you had to bring him there.

but you decided that because you wanted to be out of that suffocating air jaehyun caused.

—

the more you walked faster, the more jaehyun’s wrist reddened and hurt. but he let you be as he liked how you were comfortable with someone like him. your hair flowed with the wind, the remains of your shampoo left a sweet scent. was it lavender? and the wind blew stronger, making the scent clearer to the nose. his heart skipped beats, because it was indeed lavender. he swore in his head. scrap aside the frequent marathons and meet-ups. lavender’s all the more reason why fell for you quickly than ever.

and when the local café closed early for the day, you almost lost sight of the pedestrian signs. jaehyun pulled you in as the light emitted red. though you had your emotions get the best of you, you realised how childish you were for something so minor. you laughed in awkwardness, he did too. “i didn’t want anyone to see this side-”

warmth. that was all you thought of right there. you were in his embrace.

“..of me.” you soon mumbled in his chest, realising later of the action he just did. “jaehyun-”

“it’s okay. i don’t too.” his hand gently caressed the back of your head, treating it with care as if he held a newborn baby. “so can i keep you?”

that warmth became hotter, almost boiling that you weren’t able to breathe properly. “i’m sorry.” he said, that must’ve surprised you.” jaehyun chuckled.

surprised? of course you were. how was it natural for him to do skinship? and that smoothly? you both weren’t at that stage yet, let alone have a relationship with mutual feelings. even yuta couldn’t hug you because of how conscious you felt.

but then again, you looked up. you saw his ears. it was red, the usual reaction whenever you were with him. was it normal though? you were never aware of it up until now.

because it was so clear now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow? i have to help my mom with some things.” you lied as you scratched your neck.

jaehyun nodded and pulled away. “alright, go on ahead.”

you poked his dimples because he has been staring at you like he had questions to ask. “what is it?”

maybe he didn’t notice or maybe he did, but he was leaning closer, his head tilting to the side and eyes staring into your soul. you knew what he was about to do, you feel like letting him do so but at the same time you weren’t sure of your feelings.  

just a little more and you could’ve locked lips but..

your phone vibrated.

in panic you looked at your device and eyes widened that brought jaehyun aback.

“ah yuta!” you brought your phone so close to your face, not believing your best friend’s announcement on social media, in which he then followed up with a text message.

the light in your eyes was something jaehyun liked seeing, but didn’t so as well.

“oh! he said the concept for the elites’ party is live wardrobe. all singles will go through a ballot draw. it’s for the clothes to wear for the night..” you locked your phone. “tsk i wanted to wear my favourite dress.”

“i think you’ll look great in whatever gown is chosen for you.” jaehyun pat your head while you were immersed in your phone. “now go. it’s getting late.”

“i’ll expect the same for you.” you replied.

he laughed and that didn’t want to make you leave just yet. “nah don’t. i’m just ordinary in a suit.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

funny how he was so damn wrong.

fate let him draw red, and confidently chose a suit once it was his turn to change. it was as if he knew this attire would go well with him. a suede texture with a black outline on its collar accentuated his brushed up light brown hair, while his black under-shirt contrasted with his porcelain skin. gladly it wasn’t halloween, or else you would’ve mistaken him for a vampire.

he had you feeling all sorts of things, and you didn’t know why when you were nothing more than friends.

an hour ago he was in his usual casual wear. now he was surrounded with ladies who already seemed like they were friends with him for decades. you could see jaehyun was uncomfortable but he kept his cool with folded arms as he leaned against a column. the comments from them irritated you, because at one point they were badmouthing him— and the second he showed up they flooded him with compliments of his good looks and how they named him the “model elite”.

you swirled the wine glass in your hand, the other arm hugged your waist. you rolled your eyes at the falseness these people have towards him. “can’t believe it.” your fingers curled as irritation began to cover your sight. “look at them trying to make a move on him. erlgh too close. they weren’t like that before.”

sicheng rolled his tongue, hands in pockets and walked to be in front of you. “really? you weren’t like that before too.” he pointed out.

“i agree. recently you’re stuck like glue whenever you’re with him.” yuta gestured.

“am so not?” you gasped while your eyes trailed to jaehyun, who was still had patience for the ladies surrounding him. “i just like how he’s a good friend.”

“doubt it.” sicheng poked your cheek. “you wouldn’t feel like this when you have feeli-”

not this again. “i’m grabbing a drink.” yuta suddenly cut the conversation.

“get me one too!” the younger one yelled and after he was satisfied with the gesture, he winced as you pinched his sides from the remark he said earlier. “ow! y/n! it’s true though! i know what i’m seeing!”

truthfully, nothing about sicheng’s words or actions bothered you. but if there was anything that did, it was your own heart. as of tonight, you began to question your feelings towards jaehyun. when did it start? how was it possible to like someone so quickly? “i’m telling you i don’t.” your eyes trailed to him, not realising the rush of heat creeping your cheeks.

jaehyun was approached by yuta, who was giving him a glass of beer. the ladies fled after stealing pictures of the guy and he took the drink in his hands. then they headed towards the garden of the mansion. wonder what he’s here for?

“nice party you have here. concept’s cool.” jaehyun started to break the lingering silence because he knew how awkward this was going to be with your best friend.

“yeah, never knew you’d end up in red. it’s y/n’s favourite colour.” yuta’s voice lowered. there was an impact jaehyun could describe but assuming that would be too rude of him.

“really? i didn’t know.” he hummed. aren’t you a little too happy, jaehyun told himself. he shook it off, for he doesn’t expect him and you to go any further than this.

“now you do. so can you back up for a while? take a week off or something from y/n.” yuta raised his brows.

this was the same feeling from before. he knew this feeling because he felt the exact same way. he wanted to be selfish for once. not like he hated yuta, it was just.. he always had to appear whenever he didn’t want him to. then he would mess his mood. he interrupted his joy of admiring you. jaehyun licked his lips to dampen them. “i’m sorry, who are you to tell me what to do?”

yuta grinned and leaned against the column as he mirrored jaehyun. “don’t you get it?” he asked, his tone rising. “i love y/n. you entering the picture just ruins everything.”

my hunch’s correct. he does love y/n. “if you love her you wouldn’t ignore her.”

“it’s because you’re with her! and she does the same to me! it’s like she’s found someone else-”

“you’re being dramatic.” jaehyun pushed himself off the column and turned to him. “y/n’s sad and moping around because you treated her like she’s all alone. you have no idea how much she waited for you to contact her.”

“what do you know, smartass? you’re just another guy trying to fit in when you know you couldn’t. no matter how much you tried, everyone’s afraid of you. and now you’re telling me you have feelings for y/n? please.” his lips jutted with sounds of disbelief while his body posture challenged jaehyun. “y/n’s kind to everyone she meets. it’s who she is. but to think you have hope to be with someone like her? if you ask me, all i see is a greatest mismatch.”

jaehyun usually didn’t give a damn of the comments about him. he couldn’t care less of any of those. in fact he’d hear them through one ear and out they went. but when he said anything, it irked him.

you see, that was the thing— right now, he actually listened.

he turned a blind eye on yuta’s words and let it off for the night. he was given a drink and maybe the alcohol didn’t work its way on him than it did to guy. in the end, yuta was probably spilling tea even if he didn’t intend to.

“what i feel for y/n has nothing to do with you. just like people can’t control the tides,” jaehyun lightly knocked onto yuta’s chest. “i can’t control mine.”

the footsteps echoed in yuta’s ears, he could hear them despite the noisy hall. “rghhh!” he grabbed hold of his glass and threw it towards jaehyun.

sounds of shattering glass met the ground, as well as catching everyone’s attention. then there was silence. jaehyun began to lose his patience as he turned around. his smirk challenged him. ouch. this was the fight yuta was looking for, seeing jaehyun’s heavy breaths only made him stand on his toes.

jaehyun punched him in the jaw though he knew it wasn’t worth his time. but he wanted to give him a taste of stepping beyond boundaries. yuta punched him back too. he made sure the star of the night was the other— shone the brightest and reveal his true nature. he didn’t count the number of hits he received, as long as jaehyun stayed that way.

“i told you it wouldn’t be good if you provoked me!” jaehyun growled. “you’re asking for show? i’ll give you one!”

“huh..” yuta wiped his bleeding lip. “you sure about that, beast?”

jaehyun held himself for the next punch, feeling all of the pairs of eyes on him. yours included. that was what he feared. “aw. what impression does she have on you now?” yuta’s cooing words caused jaehyun’s eyes to soften.

all bleeding and bruised, jaehyun’s injuries have matched with his suit. he clenched his fists as he frustratingly left the hall.

in your peripheral, your eyes trailed his direction and your legs followed him by heart, without realising yuta calling out your name several times. everything went blank, not thinking things straight because while everyone watched, no one understood. you glared at yuta before heading outside, a more disappointed sigh was the only response he got from you.

yuta was then nudged by sicheng. the latter could see the change in his expression. “what did i tell you?”

“you don’t have to tell me.” yuta dusted his pants.

“i’m still gonna.” sicheng rolled his eyes and poked the lad’s temple. “that’s what you call ‘stupidity’. if only you confessed to her before maybe things would be different between you guys.”

“i don’t want things to be different dude.”

“i’m gonna state the obvious, you probably already know this but.. you lost this battle.”

“crap..” yuta’s voice changed from a nervous chuckle to a soft sob. “i liked her first.”

you spotted jaehyun sitting atop a metal barrier just in front of the carpark— head down to mend his injuries and scratches. he sniffed from the cool night breeze before hopping off. “you’ll hurt your feet.” he pointed at the heels you had dangling in your hands.

his gaze softened when you pointed at his face, especially the black eye. “touché.” he chuckled, later feeling your cold hands against his throbbing flesh. “it’s no big deal-”

“i’m sorry about yuta’s behaviour.” you sighed. “don’t let it get into you. he’s an airhead when he’s drunk-”

“you sure? he seemed pretty sober when he said- ah.” he pursed his lips to speak any further. “nevermind.”

now that gotten you curious. “what did he say? spill it!” you whined, causing jaehyun mouth to curve a little in amusement.

jaehyun prolonged the silence and grabbed your shoes, leading you towards his car. once he unlocked it and opened the door, he bursted out in a loud, healthy laugh. “he said he was head over heels for you.”

you pushed him to the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling your eyes at the pun. “that was so lame!” you sat on the other side. “but i know that already if you thought i didn’t. i subtly turned him down ages ago. guess he didn’t take the message.”

“clearly.”

as you tended to his wounds, one question still had your curiosity at its peak. jaehyun was quiet through-out, so it was hard to bring the topic up for a while. until your eyes and his met.

“what did you tell him before he threw the glass at you?” you dabbed the cotton onto the beaten area. “it must’ve pissed him.”

he dropped his car keys and let out a nervous hum. “uh..” he didn’t know what else to say. right when he was finally about to tell you, you suddenly giggled.

“unless you told him you like me and that made him angry, but i doubt that happened.” your lips shrank to a circle, cursing at yourself for assuming too much. girl the guts you have was incomparable—

jaehyun’s large hand held yours while you continued to apply medication. the warmth, the heat and the building tension of skinship made you weak. “you’re right.”

your smile and breaths changed in an instant when he fixed himself on the seat. he smirked a little, finding how cute you were. it drove him crazy.

“i like you, for the longest time, since the orientation. i’m so into you that i couldn’t help myself be selfish and have you to myself— i- i don’t know what i’m saying.” he sighed, pushing himself away in embarrassment with arms above his face.

“t-thanks.” you fiddled with your fingers.

“i’m not asking for an answer. i just wanted to let you know.” he said. “gosh this is a bad timing for confession.”

“then is it a bad timing if i said i’m into you too?” you looked away and out in the distance. you could see his reaction on the window’s reflection. he was shocked, but an uncontrollable smile was forcing itself on the surface. it was written in the dimples.

“no,” his husky voice called you to look back. “you’re just about right.”

[no-droids]

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here.  This is like.  You remember that one game, Mercy?  The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous.  Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares?  It’s child’s play.  It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person.  You never have been.  It’s just not part of your nature.  If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else.  You just… do you.  You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good.  And if it’s bad, it’s good.  Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit?  Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open.  “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron.  What are we doing?  Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up. 

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl.  You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench.  “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today?  Thursday?  Friday?  Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day.  Thursday, then. …Thursday?”  You shake your head.  “Ugh, see?  Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.”  He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers.  It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now.  Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that.  Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it.  “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation.  To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small.  Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here.  “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap.  You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are.  “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.   “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron.  First and last word, that’s all it takes.  And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?”  He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel.  “ Easy credits.  Just begging for it.  Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust.  As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly.  Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him.  “You just turned my money into a sex object.  It was vile.  I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging.  You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it.  “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now.  Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?”  You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them.  Withdrawal stage, ha.   “Of course it’s all that bad.  It’s horrible.  It’s the fucking worst.  And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this?  Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to.  “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you.  “I did not.  When the fuck did I cheat?  I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more.  He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire.  “Okay, first of all?  Rude.  I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright?  I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him.  And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good.  He smells… unbelievably fucking good.  Always.  Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on.  It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit.  No such luck so far.  

“Whatever.  The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.  “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want.  In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming.  “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is.  “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?”  He goes on, completely ignoring you.  “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen?  You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm?  No snorgasms?  Hmmm?  No happy naps?  No captain midnights?  No mattress fracking?  Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked.  “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again.  You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one.  “Anyways.  Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!”  You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting.  And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills.  Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems.  “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!”  You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation.  “There it is!  You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself!  Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both.  Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum?  This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused.  He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath.  “Sorry.  But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal.  And descriptive.  “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right.  Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh?  I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.  

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me.  Not right now.  Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh.  Something occurs to you, something… sinister.  Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long.  It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before.  You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan.  You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away.  A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?”  You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?”  Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more.  “Now many times did you cum in your sleep?  Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?”  He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time.  “It was involuntary.”

You shrug.  “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious.  “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?”  You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with.  Instead, your voice is soft, questioning.  Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait.  You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape.  The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,”  he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought.  Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this.  The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous.  “It’s your room, too.  Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there.  You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?”  You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number.  You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them.  “Red-Six.  Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder.  “Or, wait… Neah.  No—it was… Nalal.  Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter.  “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest.  “It was starting to get obnoxious.  Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is.  “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should.  Lower than it should.  You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls?  Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel.  “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head.  “Sometimes a sabbatical is good.  I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment.  “I’m sorry?  And… you’re welcome.  I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long.  The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable.  At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together.  I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block.  He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus.   You have to control yourself.  You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless.  It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this.  Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever.  One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option.  “This isn’t a good idea.  It’s… not healthy.  I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him.  “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing.  It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit.  “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection.  “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp.  “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—”  You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?”  Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky.  Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding.  Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast?  This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself?  “Finish it.  Sooner, rather than later.  Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident.  Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive.  Fuck.  Dameron, and you, in bed.  It could be mean.  It could be rough.  A fight for dominance more than anything.  He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now.  Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning.  Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?”  Are the first recognizable words that can be heard.  “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips.  “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance.  It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working.  Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before.  Of course.  Stupid.  Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air.  You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed?  A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet.  You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think.  Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences.  You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off.  This is different.  This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable.  A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…”  Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you.  There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him.  Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal.  You don’t like it.  You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead.  The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong.  “I mean, y’know.  Theoretically speaking, and all.  If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before.  Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something.  This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you.  Shit.  You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.  

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin.  You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done.  What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation.  You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it.  Stop it.  Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation.  How dare he?  How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses?  You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him.  Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier.  “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet.  No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright?  Don’t talk to me.  You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight.  And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it.  It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has.  Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least.  You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it.  You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving.  It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds.  A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons.  Mainly, the nerve of him.  The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,”  You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space.  You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare.  “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea.  “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge.  “You’re… plotting.  Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship.  “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it.  Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty.  Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it.  “Something that you like, that gets you going.  Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further.  “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should.  It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not.  This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable.  The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?”  You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same.  “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart.  “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks.  Default to normal, default to normal.  “Your fucking attitude.  Your demeanor.  The way you talk down to me.  You don’t listen.  You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen.  You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?”  He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second.  This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here.  He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on.  “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back.  “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it.  There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity.  Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed.  “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily.  “Have since the moment we met.  And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it.  You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?”  You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak.  “Pop the top on this bitch.  Put me out of my fucking misery, right now.  You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait.  And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up.  You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way.  He deserved that.  You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake.  Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you.  Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders.  It’s not sexual.  It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating.  He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline.  His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter.  They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.  

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret.  “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need.  Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words.  To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit.  You feel like you’re literally burning up with it.  You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire.  “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone.  “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember.  Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it.  How long’s it been?  Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless.  Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?”  You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes.  Oh fuck, be cool, be cool.  “You think this is gonna work?  Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek.  The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs.  How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard.  “Tonight, I’ll shave it off.  Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second.  Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow.  “Beard or no beard, makes no difference.  Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere.  You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone.  “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious.  Maker, how long until your shift is over?  You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league.  “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?���  Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder.  “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself.  Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going.  “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next.  “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me.  But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist.  Resist .  You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios.  Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting.  “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you.  Go nice and slow.  I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away.  I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it.  How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker.  This is a trick.  It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it.  You can’t fucking fall for it.  It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all.  He’s lying to get your guard down.  He laughed at your flirting.  He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him.  You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback.  You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say.  Your room.  It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now.  Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register.  “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see.  I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to.  Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out.  And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm.   Your bed,” he eventually decides.  “I want you comfortable.  You shower at night.  Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep.  That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point.  And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while.  However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening.  Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through.  Maker, it’s fucking painful.  You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?”  You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time.  Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body.  “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in.  Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before.  Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other.  Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies.  Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy.  It hurts to lose a first name.  But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design.  He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it.  Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now.  It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two.  You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea.  Nothing about it comes out right.  The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself.  Oh Maker, can you imagine?  How fucking proud of himself he’d be?  You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it.  Where’d it go?  Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it.  Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false… 

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear.  You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you.  Like… teakwood, maybe?  Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind.  What the fuck does teakwood even smell like?  “Maybe it’s just what I need.  You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low.  It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls?  Just a little bit?  That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad.  That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…”  You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now.  “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it.  “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato.  It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low.  “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.  At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs.  “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage.  “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this.  Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be.  You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want.  And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move.  Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body.  You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder.  “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you.  He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side.  “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—”  Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down.   But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second.  As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise.  The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use.  Fuck , it’s been so long .  You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now.  It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks.  “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs.  “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion.  The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone.  Fuck, he almost made you cum.  He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide.  You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again.  You have to close your eyes.  You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more.  “Shhhit.  I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it.  Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless.  “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck.  Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back.  They start… moving slightly.  Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize.  He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm.  Dameron might cum in his pants like this.  Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum.  You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight.  You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving.  “One… one more.  If you want.  You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you.  “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.”  You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether.  His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb.  The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure.  Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger.  He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time.  He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat.  Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief.  Genuine, not embellished.  He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go.  You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this.  You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again.  It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?”  Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that.  He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly.  “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you.  Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet.  Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much.  You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes.  It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it?  You could.  You could cum right now.  What’s two weeks of pay?  You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence.  Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear.  “Be nice.  I’m being nice.”

You should bite him.  Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now.  Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again.  Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying.  You need air.  Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this.  If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all.  Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore.  “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit.  Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half.  He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that.  Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good.  Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good.  Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in.  Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?”  He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them.  “How clearly do you remember the rules?  What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt.  No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer.  “Tell me.  No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind.  But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore.  There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement.  The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it.  “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends.  Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—”  The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out.  “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine.  “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does.  The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it.  You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout.  You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it.  You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves.  The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space.  He doesn’t even acknowledge it.  “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest.  “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens.  Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you?  Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck.  “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order.  “Right now.  Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it.  “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally.  The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm.  You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it.  Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day.  First names hurt.  You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence.  Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks.  A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

[hslotharrie]

To My Best Friend

summary: reader faces quarantine at Harry’s and, turns out, it was exactly what they needed to come clean. also, Anne is the superior Mum.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: completely fluff. with marriage + mentions of family? not edited... when do I ever edit

based off of this ask<3

When you wake, the sun is shining through a slightly opened window in the far left corner of your bedroom. You can hear birds chirping amongst themselves from outside, cars driving far in the distance, it's quiet at Harry's home. Peaceful.

It's been a little more than four months since you and Harry decided to bubble at the beginning of quarantine. What you expected to be a few weeks turned into a lot more, but there were no complaints. Harry has the space, is the type to crave company, and you're his best friend.

Best friend.

You roll in the soft sheets, hugging the covers for a few minutes until you inevitably force yourself to get up for the day. You're not sure what sort of expensive luxury bed set this is, but god, they are comfy. You make a mental note to ask him later.

You zone out again on the soft sounds of the birds and the pleasant cool breeze flowing in through the window. You pull your phone from the bedside table to check the time, 10:56– and the weather, sunny and 78. You consider getting in the pool later.

Harry's phone rings somewhere outside of your room, followed by some muffled mumbling from the man himself signalling that he's awake too. You wonder if he's ate yet; he's a sucker for your omelettes and you're craving one about now.

You climb out of bed,  going to the bathroom to tame your hair and brush your teeth, before heading to the kitchen to put together ingredients for the omelettes.

It's about 10 minutes before Harry appears in the kitchen, provoked by the smell. He places a hand on your lower back as a silent 'good morning!' while he stands to your side to admire your cooking. You try your best to ignore the warm feeling that his touch brings; the feeling that makes you wish for more than just a touch.

It makes you nervous, how quickly his presence has you feeling butterflies or how fast he can make you smile when you're in the darkest of moods. You've been sitting on the feelings for years, they were always there, hiding in the back of your head. The feelings that made you wish you'd shared that drink with him just for the second-hand contact to his lips.

Those are the thoughts that make you nervous. You try not to think about them when he's standing right next to you watching your every move with a wandering hand on the small of your back.

He's dressed in a colourful flannel and some shorts, you notice, much different than your fresh out of bed joggers and t-shirt. You make a mental note to change later, and you consider stealing one of his flannels (there's the thoughts again,) just to have his smell on you.

He pulls away from you to begin setting up the eating area, bringing out cups and silverware and then returning with a plate when he senses the omelette is nearly done. He stands to your left with the plate held in both hands like an excited toddler and when you flip the breakfast meal onto his plate he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead in thanks. The thoughts come rushing back; I like when you kiss me, Harry.

"D'you have any plans for today?" he quizzes, before taking a drink of his orange juice.

"Was thinking about going in the pool later," you tell him, "it seemed nice out, an' I love your pool."

"I rather like my pool too," he chuckles "I'll join you, yeah? Could go for a swim later."

When you finish eating, Harry takes the plates to wash despite your protests. You cooked, he argues, so he cleans. You glance at the time, almost 12, and decide that the time it will take to change and freshen up will be enough for your stomach to settle and therefore a swim will be safe.

Returning upstairs, you first search for a bikini and then your sunglasses, changing and adding a pair of shorts. You brush your hair, throughly this time, and tie it up to avoid contact with the chlorinated water.

Before you go back downstairs, you take a minute to look at yourself in the mirror— doing your best not to allow the thoughts to come forward. (You don't think about how your body will look to Harry, and you definitely don't allow yourself to think about what he might think about the bikini you chose. Absolutely not.)

When you return downstairs to the kitchen, the dishes are washed and on the drying rack. Grabbing two cups and straws, you fill each about half with ice and then filtered water; and carry them both out to the poolside where Harry sits contently in the sun.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry's eyes travel along your body through his sunglasses when you appear from inside of the house, wishing he could touch you. His brain flicks back to the phone call he had this morning with his Mum, how she encouraged him to make a move because she knows you're meant to be. His stomach flips thinking about it.

"Do you remember when we went to that party and you pushed that guy into the pool because he was flirting with me?" you smile, sitting down beside him and handing him one of the cold waters.

"Mm, we had to leave because he was gonna' beat me up," Harry chuckles, "I was drunk. Probably lucky he ended up in the pool."

"You were being protective! It was cute!" you defend,  rubbing his back lazily in comfort. He looks at you in a funny way, smile faltering a little before he returns his eyes back to the pool.

"M'gonna test the waters so the princess doesn't freeze," He proposes, rising from his seat when you give him a playful smack.

You rise as well, shimmying off your loose shorts and moving to sit at the side of the pool. Watching harry submerge himself first, you let your legs dangle off of the edge and into the water. It's cold, but a pleasant, enjoyable cold in the hot sun.

You sit contently for a few minutes, enjoying the water on your legs and watching harry swim back and forth. You lean back and turn your attention somewhere else, trying to avoid being caught staring.  Suddenly, though, a hand brushes up the side of one of your submerged legs, informing you of Harry's presence.

"Y'coming in?" he asks, standing now. He's tall, so your faces are about level now.

"Are you in a hurry?" He's close enough now that he's dripping cold water on your skin.

"Maybe,"

Suddenly, he's gripping your waist to lift you and pull you into the water. You squeal, grabbing his shoulders as leverage as he practically drops you into the water that feels ice cold against your warm sunny skin. He laughs loud and happy when you splash water in his direction as payback.

Soon, both of your energies mellow out. Harry's on his phone, while you're floating around in a doughnut shaped floatie. Harry snaps a photo, but you don't notice.

When it's time to get out, Harry offers to go grab the towels while you float around for a few more minutes. He's driving you crazy in the best way. Your skin still tingles where he had touched your sides to lift you into the water, and your palms burn with the memory of his bare shoulders.

When he returns, it's like his energy has changed. The sight of a shirt over his chest makes you frown momentarily, and he's light on his feet rather than the happy strides he took on his way into his home. You see him tuck his phone into his pocket as if he's been talking to someone again, and when his eyes meet yours the wide smile is hiding something else.

When you slip out of the doughnut and climb up the pool ladder, he mumbles a soft "c'mere" and wraps the towel around your shoulders. His eyes watch you for a little longer than they should've.

"Mum called again," He murmurs.

"I's she doing well? Is that who called this morning?" you question, keeping your attention on his eyes.

"Yeah, woke you up I suppose,"

"Not at all!" You defend.

He goes quiet, picking at his fingernails (a nervous habit you notice he's developed since beginning to paint his nails) and looking off to the side to avoid holding eye contact with you. This makes you nervous, he's never this way around you.

"Harry,"

"I'm sorry, 'shouldn't be such a big deal," he says, letting out an awkward laugh.

A soft smile appears on your face, taking his hands into yours to part them. Gently, you move towards him, pressing yourself wordlessly into his body and allowing his hands to wrap around your towel-covered body. It brings him comfort, and you ignore your own heart beating at the contact.

"Better?"

"A little." He admits. He loves holding you, and sure, it helps his nerves, but he's going to tell you.

His Mum's been on him since he told her you'd be staying with him, telling him “now or never, Harry!”, and he's beginning to realize it really is now or never. He doesn't know how long quarantine will keep up or how much longer you will decide to stay, and he misses you even when you're just running something as simple as a grocery trip.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows a friendship as strong as yours could work through anything, Still, there's always the possibility that things could go bad. “Get out of your head!'”Anne would say.

This type of topic between the two of you is quite common, given Harry's music and your tendency to be quite open. However, this type of topic concerning the two of you is uncharted territory.

He thinks about the story you'd brought up earlier. When you'd both went to a party together and some guy, very obviously drunker than the both of you, tried to flirt his way into your pants before Harry had pushed him into the pool himself.

The truth is, he knew you would hold your ground if you weren't interested. Actually, Harry knows from first-hand experience that you don't need protection, you can be very vocal when you need to be, and he's even seen you deck someone at the bar a few years back for touching one of your friends. You were the protector.

That's why, upon seeing Harry at such a nervous loss of words, you had hugged him. It was your own way of protecting him.

"I wasn't trying t'protect you when I pushed that guy into the pool." He states, quiet and unsure.

You only hum in reply, allowing him to finish his sentence but letting him know you heard what he said.

" 'was jealous."

What?

"What?" you pull away from him only slightly, “why?"

"I didn't want stupid—" he pauses for the name "Josh, or whatever, t'be the one to take y'home."

You give him a confused look, now that you can see his face. Not putting two and two together.

"Josh is great! I love Josh—"

"More than me?" he murmurs, and it clicks.

Oh.

"Of course not... Harry," you hesitate, watching his eyes move between your own and his jaw clench.

Is this happening?

"I wanted," his shaky hand finds your arm, sliding down to take hold of your own, equally shaky left hand to toy with your fingers.

"I wanted t'take you home. Crawl into bed with you. Whatever else." he finishes. His stomach is in butterflies by now and he feels the tight, anxiety feeling in his lungs.

It catches him completely off guard when your lips are on his.

When you try to pull away, scared you've overstepped, his mouth only follows your own and his hand rises to your jaw to hold you steady. He feels a weight lifted from his shoulders, holding you, kissing you, like this. This is what he's needed.

When you finally do pull away, it's to go inside. Harry erupts in happy laughter when you make a beeline up the stairs. Nothing happens though, it's too soon and Harry agrees, but that doesn't stop you from curling into Harry's sheets, cuddling and kissing each other while watching one of your favourite films.

Catching up on missed time.

***

The wedding reception.

How did we end up here?

"Honestly," Harry speaks loudly to the crowd of your family and friends within the dinner hall "I have two people to thank for sealing the deal."

You smile wildly, knowing exactly which story he's about to bring up. Your eyes travel through the table groups you and Harry had spent so much time planning out. When your eyes catch with Mitch's he gives you a wink.

"Anne, my beautiful Mother, thank you for not letting me coward out of finally telling my girl how I felt," he pauses, you place a hand on his knee

"And Josh—"

You can't hold back the laugh, especially when the entire room turns to face the poor, completely unsuspecting victim. Josh, face red and confused smile on his lips.

"Years ago, when I pushed you into that pool at your birthday party because— you would've killed me if I didn't run! Because you were talking to her and I got jealous!" the room is erupting in laughter.

The room is full of the most important people in your's and Harry's lives. Still though, your happy eyes are glued to Harry, working the small crowd of people as per usual and telling a story about the time of and before quarantine; of when you'd basically moved in with him and never left.

Later, when you're wrapped in warm blankets and Harry's arms, you're reflecting on your day. The guests, who you'd talked to, what you'd heard.

"Wow. I'm married." he dumbfounds.

Wow is right.

"We're married." you restate for him, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

"Wow. I'm married to my best friend.”

Giggles boil over in the dark room. Harry is astonished suddenly, pupils blown, wide grin on his face. He presses quick kisses to the side of your face and you snuggle into his side more.

"I think we win, H."

[legends-live-in-memories]

Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.  

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.  

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”  

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.  

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

[razorblade180-heated]

Too much

[It’s a smut]

It was a normal day at Beacon. Same old classes. Same old delicious lunches. Same old Blake. Well, not entirely. The girl had a problem, a snag if you will. She was currently on her bed in her school uniform, sulking more than she usually does. She patiently waited for the door to open. As she did, The words of Weiss Schnee replayed through her brain…

xxxxx

“YOU ARE DATING J-” The heiress’s mouth was covered quickly by Blake, who looked panicked.

“Ssssshhhh! What part of secret did you not understand!?” Blake said through her teeth, “we don’t want attention.”

Weiss swatted the hand away and whispered, “Sorry, but you should know better than to reveal truths out of the blue like that by now. This is crazier than the last one to be frank.”

Blake wasn’t too thrilled in Weiss’s choice of words in regards to White Fang secret, but now wasn’t the time to bicker. Blake needed her help. “Weiss, I’d like…advice. Also a bit of help.”

“Okay? On what exactly?” The concern in her voice was palpable.

Blake’s face grew a little red. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “Any...any ideas to get a guy to sleep with you?”

Now it was Weiss’s turn to blush. “Just who do you-” she lowered her voice in consideration, “just who do you think I am!? Why are you coming to me for this!?”

“Yang gets too involved in people’s business and Ruby is...she’s Ruby! I love the girl but this is not the topic she can handle.”

Weiss looked Blake up and down. Why the girl needed help was beyond Weiss’s comprehension. It was shocking Blake wasn’t beating admires back with a stick! “How long have you been dating Jaune?” She asked.

“About...five months now? That sounds right.”

Weiss could not believe her ears. Five months, how has no one noticed!? How didn’t she notice? Then again, she did find it a bit out of character of Jaune when he stopped all of romantic efforts. Looks like this was the reason why. It might’ve been her ego talking but it stung a little to know a guy moved to the next letter in her team’s name. Would Yang have been next if Blake, hold on. A thought just occurred.

“Did you ask him out, or did he ask you?” Weiss was very curious about this

Blake blinked. That was an unexpected question. “Me, why”

“No reason.” Well that actually made Weiss feel a bit better. Not that she cared or anything! “Why do you need help with...that? I would think he’d be all over you. Can’t you, ya know? Drop hints?” A terrible expression hit Weiss. “Please tell me that dunce is ignoring basic signs?” She groaned. It would only make sense.

Blake must’ve agreed because she laughed a little. “Hehe, No Weiss, he isn’t.” Blake rubbed her head in embarrassment, “He’s well aware I’m down for sex. With all the neck kisses and body touches, the message is clear.” Blake saw Weiss’s face scrunch up. “What?” She said defensively.

“It’s unpleasant thinking about Jaune in anything less than his armor. You know that hoodie apparently has a rabbit on it, right?”

“Grow up, and that hoodie is fine. You walk around pretending to be taller than 4’11”

“I just like these shoes, and I’m five feet even when they’re off!” She proclaimed, “What is the matter then? Does he not find you physically- actually, don’t answer that.” Weiss didn’t need to know any physical reactions from Jaune. “Just tell me what typically happens as safely as possible.”

Blake took a deep sigh before speaking. “It’s usually the same song and dance. We go on dates, have a good time, find a place to get cozy, I start making moves, he starts building a little momentum, but then he stops.” Even with the bow on, Blake’s ears were clearly drooping. “He just apologies and says he can’t!”

Weiss raised a brow, “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” Blake nodded, “that’s the long and short of it.”

The problem sounded simple, and normal. Like… too normal. Weiss knew besides herself, Blake was the smartest on their team. Although not sociable, Blake could read a room better than Yang or Ruby. “Blake…” Weiss said, befuddled, “How is Jaune on these dates? Attitude wise, like is he nervous?”

“No, not really. We just talk and have fun. In the beginning we were both a little awkward but now we talk and act like we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Now Weiss was a little jealous at Jaune this time! Five months was all it took to get Blake chatting like an old friend!? The amount of groundwork Weiss and the terror sisters had to put in for Blake to even go out into town casually with them was at least two months' work! Now she’s over here trying to sleep with the guy, a thing nobody saw coming.

“I gotta say, this whole thing feels a little wild. To think five months of secrecy lead to this conversation? If he’s as calm you say then I can’t think of many reasons to panic. I mean I get someone having a little anxiety when giving up your first time, but I hear that’s mainly on the girl’s part. You’re all calm though.” Weiss said. She wasn’t expecting Blake’s eyes to shift away slightly, as if the girl was hiding something. “You are calm, right?”

“Huh? Yeah I’m totally calm” Blake clucked her tongue, “because...it’s not my first time.” Her body swayed back and forth out, trying to finish her sentence. “I’ve been in a couple relationships before this. Some good, some abysmal.”

Yet another surprise to add to the list. “Wait, you’re not a virgin?” Weiss couldn’t believe this. Who knew Blake surpassed her in many social and mature experiences. The way she usually was, Weiss couldn’t imagine Blake being that way. The girl once spent an entire weekend reading in the dorm room. This new information though made Weiss come to realize that she previously assumed. She just had to ask one more question. “Does Jaune know that?”

“Of course.” Blake said, feeling a little insulted. “I wouldn’t lie to him or not be open enough to talk about my past.

Weiss sighed in disbelief at her faunus friend. Perhaps her assessment of Blake reading a room well was a little off. As much as Jaune had been annoying to Weiss, she felt bad for his clearly anxious soul. “Blake, I expect this kind of cluelessness from our leader.”

Blake looked rough left and to the right as if anyone else was there to explain. “Uhhh what?” She said, actually a little stumped.

Weiss put her hands together like she was dealing with an interviewer with zero experience. “Let’s put it this way. You have asked me why your boyfriend, who is most definitely a virgin, shys away from sleeping with you? A beautiful girl who’s already had experience. Ya don’t think he’s you know, incredibly nervous of not meeting pre-established expectations? You know you’re boyfriend, Jaune Arc, the same Jaune Arc that worries about everything else in his life going well?”

Blake just...sat quietly for a moment. Her brain wasn’t even having a gears turning moment. She was upset with herself that those gears weren’t spinning from the beginning. There was nothing to figure out at all! She had simply glanced over that possibility! Her hands held her head as she let out a long groan. “Uuuuugggg What is wrong with me? Of course he fucking is. I’ve been so caught up thinking I was doing something physically wrong, or I was wrong.”

A part of that sounded like baggage. Baggage Weiss wasn’t about to unpack. “Well, question solved. Unfortunately, he’s right to worry. I can’t imagine anybody giving a good first performance. Has he even seen you fully naked?”

“We’ve sent pictures, and did a bit of touching. That second one though was always in...un-private areas, so clothes stayed on.

“Did you just tell me you two are doing things in public?” Weiss criticized. At this point, the girl known as Blake Belladonna might as well be a stranger. Weiss didn’t know this person! Her Blake was not this forward. When did they have time for any of this!? Was she not actually reading in the dorm room!!? “Also, I may not have ever slept with a woman, but I’m sure seeing their assets over a screen is less stressful than in my face.

Blake uncovered her face. “Explain Yang walking out the shower naked then?”

“That’s not stress you see, that’s envy. Next time she does it I’m turning the droplets on her into ice, and stop changing the subject!”

Blake threw her arms up, “Having a secret relationship means not having access to our dorms. That actually brings us to the favor I mentioned…”

“No, I will not give you money for a hotel.” Weiss deadpanned.

Blake’s jaw fell open. “Why not!? It doesn’t have to be a suite.”

Weiss rubbed the bridge of her knows as she thinks about her bank account. “No one carries enough cash to pay for a hotel room. Theoretically I could swipe my credit card, but then the bill is now in my purchase history. I do not need to explain in any capacity why I’m staying in a hotel. A person is bound to assume what I’m doing is exactly what you want to do. Nah uh, can’t do it.” Blake put her head down. Weiss couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her. She’s clearly been putting in the effort to sleep with Jaune, for some reason. Well he was...no no, that’s a rabbit hole that could stay closed. “How long do you need with him?” Weiss asked, committed to solving this problem for the sake of already being included.

Blake’s head popped up quickly . “Two, no, three hours. Give or take an extra half hour.”

Weiss blushes, “wh..why so long?”

“Just in case…” Blake mumbled, “Anything could happen.”

“For three hours? What are you, an animal in heat?” It didn’t even take a second for Weiss to realize how fucked up that question was. She placed her hand over Blake’s mouth as her friend's eyes were getting hostile. “Sorry! That was unrelated to anything, honest!”

Blake was kind enough to believe Weiss at her word, but still petty enough to lick the girl’s hand, making her shriek.

“Eeeiiik!!! Blake!”

“Three hours please.”

Weiss sighed, “Fine. Getting Ruby and Yang to stay out of there that long is doable. They always wanna drag me around to do things that will give me ‘culture’ as they put it. How are you gonna handle Jaune?”

“I….good question.”

Yep, definitely doesn’t read the room well. “Blake, just be easy with him. Reassuring words, all that stuff. It’s his first after all.”

Blake was surprised by the advice. “Wow, that’s really sweet of you to care about him like that.”

Weiss crosses her arms and turns away. “I’m doing this for you, not him. And for me. Jaune moping is way worse than when he’s confident. Hmph!”

xxxxx

“Come on Jaune! What’s taking so long?” Blake thought, fidgeting on her bed. A click of the door lock made her jump to her feet as it opened slowly. Jaune’s head peaked into the room, confused.

“Umm hello?”He looked to the right and saw Blake. “Oh, hey. I got your text and Weiss told me to swing by the moment I could. Everything okay?” Jaune walked in completely and shut the door. Something about this felt uncharacteristically serious. Even for Blake.

She took Jaune’s hand and guided him towards her bed to sit. “Okay, how to start this?” She sighed.

“I hope it starts with you telling me this isn’t a break up?” He said, worrying that he was in trouble. “That would be nice.”

Blake rubbed his back and smiled. “Relax, this isn’t that kind of talk. It’s actually...kinda the opposite.”

“The opposite? Like...marriage?” Jaune’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting that kind of conversation. “Don’t you think we’re too young for all that?”

Blake’s face turned red. The fact that’s where his mind went was actually pretty sweet. “Sex Jaune. I see how you got there, but I was referring to sex.” Blake mumbled. “Can we talk about it? We keep building up to it, but then you stop.”

His face got red. “I...it’s just…ummm” he couldn’t find the words. If Yang was here then he was sure a cat having his tongue pun would’ve been said. Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed about wimping out. Speaking only got worse when Blake took it upon herself to straddle his lap. Gods, she was too beautiful. Her eyes left him defenseless. The way her hands slowly ran up his chest and over his shoulders as the smell of lavender wafted over him. “Bl-Blake?”

“I like you.” She suddenly confessed, “I like you for who you are. The things you can do, can’t do, and never have done; I’m okay with all of it. If you’re thinking I’m ranking you to any previous experience, you’re wrong. The only experience I think about with you, is us. Our experiences.” Her right hand pulls his collar away from his neck. The urge to bite her lip is overwhelming as an urge in her core starts to burn. “Let me experience you.” She whispers. Blake leans in and begins kissing his neck. Honestly, she wanted to take things slower for his sake, but all but yearned for Jaune to touch her. So much so that it was a bit dizzying.

Jaune’s body flinched as Blake’s lips grazed his neck, nipping and licking it. “Blake…” Jaune moaned. His mind was still playing catch up, but his body was right on pace. His hands traveled up the feline’s toned legs and squeezed the round ass that rested on his lap, earning him a moan. Blake moved from his neck and captured his lips. Her hands went to his jawline to keep his face close. As if he thought about escaping.

Blake openly moaned as she felt his fingers kneed her ass like dough. She caught him by surprise when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, luring his into her own. Slowly, Blake locked her body back and forth to stir him up. The low groan he let out was a good sign she had done her job. Still, they have gotten this far before. Blake was determined to get further.

Her lips finally freed Jaune. The boy was flushed completely, catching his breath in rhythm with hers. Blake took the opportunity to remove only her blazer, then brought Jaune’s left hand away from her ass and onto her breast. Her fingers overlapped his and pressed down, making him squeeze it gently. “Touch me…” the lust in her voice flowed like a river. The way she felt Jaune’s hand quiver told her that he was still pretty anxious.

Jaune found it within himself to bring both of his hands to the top button of her shirt. A small smile on Blake’s face appeared as she closed her eyes and puffed her chest out a bit more as a sign to go ahead. “Take your time.” She said. Being patient wasn’t Blake’s strongest quality, but with Weiss’s advice in mind, she did her best to contain herself. It was funny. Jaune being nervous was actually making her heart beat faster.

Cool air hit her chest as her shirt was undone, revealing a purple lace bra. Firm hands went around her back. “I can handle the bra if you’re having tr-” a little pop noise was made as her bra strap was undone faster than her shirt. “Trouble…” she finished.

Jaune let out a sheepish chuckle. “Hehe, seven sisters, remember. I’m no stranger to how bras work. They left them everywhere.

“Jaune, you’re like a bag of tricks.” Blake smiled, “I just never know what comes next with you. That being said, I have a good idea that I'll be leading from here.” Blake let her bra fall, making Jaune gasp under his breath. Blake found his reaction to her D sized chest. His face got redder by the second as Blake brought his hands to them.

Jaune refused to speak. He’d hate to ruin the mood right now. He couldn’t believe how soft Blake felt. The way his fingers pressed against her as he massaged each boob. His pointer fingers grazed over her pale, pink nipples made the girl settle more into his lap.

“Mmmm~” Blake moaned, biting her lip from the touch. Jaune took it as a sign to keep going. A wise choice. Blake once again started to buck her hips against what had to be Jaune’s rock hard erection. Even with clothes on, it’s heat reached Blake’s equally hot core. Blake’s hands got busy. She scooted back a bit for them to have enough room to unbuckle Jaune’s pants. Her fingers traced along his lower stomach before dipping below the waistband and wrapping the throbbing erection. Blake leaned forward to capture his tongue yet again as he groaned from the feeling of her nimble fingers stroking his down.

Blake managed to pull his length up and out of his pants completely. She scooted forward again and rubbed his exposed cock against her wet panties. Her clit ground against the shaft. Blake mewled lustfully from Jaune squeezing her breast harder than before. Blake felt her tongue get drawn in and sucked on lightly. Someone was getting excited. The hot precum that ran down her hands only made it easier for Blake to pump faster.

Jaune couldn’t contain his groans and grunts. His hands gripped Blake’s ass again to hold her close. His kiss with her was broken by her going to kiss and bite his neck. “Blake…”

“Sshhh” Blake whispered, “cum for me.” If it wasn’t for her underwear, Jaune’s cock would be sliding up and down her soaked folds right now. The tip pressed against her clit and sent a shiver through Blake’s body that made her grind harder against it. She could tell Jaune was at the end of his rope. His hands gripped her even tighter as Jaune’s throbbing length finally let out a thick white seed that painted Blake’s moist thighs and panties. Blake smiled seductively as she slowed down the roll of her hips, letting him ride out his pleasure and wring out whatever remained inside.

“Blake!” Jaune hissed from the pleasure. Her hands pressed against his rising chest, making him lean back until his forearms had to support his body. Blake dismounted him to stand up for a moment then raised the sides of her soiled skirt, giving Jaune a clear view of the mess he made on the girl.

“Someone’s healthy.” Blake teased, “I wasn’t expecting so much.” Blake’s face became a deep red. Imagining the thought of this load inside her made her weak in all the right ways.

The sight of his and Blake’s arousal slowly trailing down her well toned legs was enough to leave anyone speechless. It didn’t help that her black panties were damp enough to outline the entrance to what Jaune would know to be a very intense experience. And as bad as he wanted it, Jaune couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his performance. “Not to kill the mood or sound ungrateful, but cumming alone is a bit… ehhh” was the best way he could describe himself.

Blake playfully rolled her eyes. Boys will be boys. “Well it’s not like we’re finished yet. Besides I literally told you cum. Rest assured I’ll get my moment a bliss before the end of this. Just have a bit of confidence. We’re still foreplaying.”

“I’m not an expert on this but is foreplay always this intense? I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard.” He admitted.

“It varies. Honestly...” Blake looked down at Jaune’s semi-flaccid dick. She slowly walked closer to the bed. Her hand tugged on Jaune’s slacks, prompting him to scoot down a bit more until Blake felt he was close enough. The young woman pulled a bit harder to pull his pants down and of the way of getting ruined. All why never taking her eyes off of him or is cum covered length. “....I like watching how good I make you feel.” She purred, getting excited again.

Jaune has no response to such a confession. Nor could he say anything as she bent over to grab his dick. Just her touching it was enough to make him grow. To get points even further across, Blake’s golden eyes looked right into his eyes as she made him tremble from placing her tongue at the base and lick up; agonizingly slow and deliberate too.

Blake took her time swirling around Jaune to collect the remnants of his load before taking him into her mouth for real. Jaune’s body tensed immediately and hand instinctively went to her head to brace himself as she bobbed up and down. His fingers wrapped around strains of hair, tugging them. Blake purred again with him down her throat and began watching him squirm.

“Blake!” He gasped. The girl only sped. Each time she went lower and lower while her tongue stroked the underside of his shaft. Before Jaune knew it, he was fully erect again and felt like he could cum again if she continued. “Blake! T-Timeout!” He yelled.

Blake gladly stopped. She had proved her point, gotten him hard again, and was pleasantly surprised to learn Jaune wasn’t that bitter in the slightest. Maybe it was his natural scent or something but Blake could see herself getting a bit too into sucking him off. That taste lingered on her and made her body burn up. “Need a break?”

“Not really.” He fibbed, knowing full well a girl who just went down him could probably tell just how into that experience he was. “I just… If I’m coming twice, I’d rather you get some action too.”

“Oh, okay.” Blake’s heart fluttered a bit. He really wanted her to feel good with him. “Then, let’s skip to the fun part.” Blake removed her panties that really should’ve removed earlier, along with the skirt.

Jaune marveled at his beautiful girlfriend who stood before him. Yeah they had sent pictures and sure she’s been topless for several minutes now, but it felt different once everything came off. Her long, beautiful legs went on each side of him, letting him have a full view of a wanting velvet core that hovered above his cock. A thin line of Blake’s arousal made both of teens blush as it dripped onto him. Jaune took his right thumb and pressed against her entrance, rubbing it slowly and watching how it coated his thumb.

“Mmmm~” Blake let out a breath that shook with excitement. Her chest began to rise and fall more distinctly and her back arched ever so slightly as she closed her eyes. “Please don’t fucking team me too long.” She moaned, nudging her hips to gain more friction.

Jaune was mesmerized by the way she acted. He sunk his thumb into her just to watch her crane her neck up and moan again. If he wasn’t excited before, he was now. “You’re so fucking wet…” pushing further in to feel her walls tighten. He kept a slow rhythm when pulling out, just to push right back in.

Blake bit her lip. Her hands ran up his shirt to expose his chest. She had to remember to thank

Pyrrha for putting Jaune through such rigorous training. He was well on his way to being the huntsman he so dearly dreamed of. It was funny but the more Blake thought it about, the more she realized what made her so drawn to him. Even when Jaune lacked experience, he set his sights high. Sure they could be a little too high at times, but you know what? There was something great about that. “I thought I told you not to tease me? I want you to give it to me.” Blake purred. She mustered the resolve to pry Jaune’s hand from her body and took hold of something much bigger and lively. “Ready for a ride? Just relax and let me lead okay?”

Jaune nodded. He watched Blake lower herself without a second thought. His hips instinctively bucked up as he felt the indescribable pleasure of wet, heated walls pulled him in tightly, refusing to let go. Jaune closed his eyes and gripped her waist.

“Feeling good?” Blake shuddered. The feeling of Jaune rubbing her insides so deep made her want to move immediately. Blake put her hands against Jaune’s chest and began rocking her hips. The grip Jaune had on her tightened. A low groan strained from his throat. Blake leaned forward until her breast pressed against him. “It gets better.” Her knees started feeling weak as raised her hips, having Jaune’s dick slid out until the tip remained. Blake then dropped her hips down, slamming his cock back inside of her. Again and again she did that, picking up the speed each time until the sound of her ass smacking against his lap filled the room and rocked the bed. Blake’s body was on autopilot. The feeling of her womb being invaded and walls being grazed, shocked Blake each time Jaune’s dick spearheaded inside of her wanting pussy. “Oh fuck yes…” Blake gasped, licking and biting Jaune’s neck.

The boy was going through it right now. Never had Jaune felt this kind of heat. No amount of foreplay could prepare anybody for this. Each slight movement felt like a jolt of lightning. His mind and body were conflicted. On one hand, Jaune wanted to hold out as long as possible. Yet his hips had other plans. Jaune couldn’t stop himself from timing his movements with Blake’s, thrusting deep into her for even greater pleasure

Blake had no problem with this whatsoever. “Ahhh~ just like that!” Blake encouraged, “You’re so deep...mmmm” the heat between them only grew. Their bodies worked up a sweat and Blake found herself panting more than moaning. Letting Jaune cum once was a good idea. Not only for him to last longer for this moment, but even Blake wasn’t confident her experience would give her an edge against his stamina. High sex drive or not, Blake knew herself well. Satisfying her needs wasn’t as trying as Jaune might think. Especially when she’s topping.

Blake sat up and leaned back a bit. She braced her hands behind her back and began rocking back and forth with Jaune completely inside of her.

Jaune couldn’t take his eyes off of Blake’s body as it grinded on him. The woman’s eyes were shut tight as she focused on the pleasure, while her boobs bounced from each rock. “You’re so beautiful.” He said without thinking. The compliment was heard though, since Blake immediately started going even faster. Jaune let out another groan. He wanted her so bad. Sitting still just wasn’t his style.

Blake’s concentration was broken when she felt strong arms around her lower back. She opened her eyes to see the blonde knight sit up as well. “Jaune?” She said confused. Instead of answering her. Jaune gave her a chaste but strong kiss before his mouth went suck on one of her tits. “Jaune!” She moaned, gripped his hair. Blake arched her back as she felt him lick and suck it, while groping the other one. The assault on her body only intensified when his remaining free hand fell to her ass to squeeze it while she continued to fuck herself on his dick until her mind felt foggy. “This is...too much!” Her hand clung to him. “And you were worried!?” She asked knowing he couldn’t speak right now.

Jaune might’ve been happy by the question if he wasn’t too busy fighting off his fast approaching orgasm. It was crazy Blake was the one saying he was doing too much. Her scent, the way her body pressed against his, the sounds that escaped her beautiful lips, and the way she moved her hips. As if she was trying to milk everything out of him all at once. Every part of her wax too much yet Jaune could only want more, surrendering to the embrace of her soaked walls. Jaune gasped for air. “Blake, I….I can’t...”

Words were beyond him. All he could do was buck in between Blake’s legs.

A seductive smile grew on her face as she went faster. “That’s right, fuck me just like this….and cum. Blake leaned into his, “Hard…”

A slave to her voice, Jaune obeyed Blake’s words without fail. He could only manage several more intoxicating moments before the urge to cum was too strong to deny. Jaune held her close and kept her there; shooting ropes white inside her.

Blake felt Jaune bite down on her shoulder as he filled her deep. All the rough touches and spasms was more than enough to push her over the edge. “Shit…” she said with a shrill voice. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body and Blake buried her face in the crook of neck. Blake tried resisting but her nails dug into his back as her orgasm finally hit. Every muscle in her body tensed up. Her toes curled and she could feel Jaune throbbing inside her as her body tried taking everything the boy had to give.

Neither could speak. They could only cling to each other for what felt like forever before the waves of pleasures finally subsided. Blake was the first to loosen her grip. The girl's limbs released tension and she had zero desire to move an inch. It was only when Jaune went to tilt her head up by her chin that the two looked at each other with a mix of gratification and exhaustion. Blake positioned his hand for her head to rest in, purring at the feel of his touch.

Jaune let out at chuckle. He fell backwards onto the bed with Blake following him down. The girl laid on top of him and continued purring.

“Yeah I don’t see what you were worried about.” She said, teasingly.

“Hey, when Blake Belladonna says she wants to have her way with you, panic sets in. So, good time?”

Blake flicked his forward. “You have me laying on top of you naked and purring.”

“Yeah, fair point. Phew, well that’s good. I like making you happy.”

Blake blushed as she felt his arms hold her gently. “Hmm well looks like you’ve given me a new experience after all.”

“What, cuddling after sex?”

“Mmmhmmm.” Blake hummed, “No time to cuddle when you’re you know, working in a cult. Luxuries like that don’t exist.”

Jaune smirked, “Gee, I never would’ve guessed.” Blake pinched him for that sarcastic remark. Not that it actually did anything. “Well I’m happy to be your first post sex cuddle experience. Though it’s a little risky isn’t it?”

“We have like three hours before anyone shows up. It’s fine.”

“Not exactly the issue I had in mind but good to know.”

Blake’s eyelids felt heavy. That was until the feeling of Jaune’s hands on her butt shocked her away. The feeling of him swelling inside her again made her shudder. Stamina was dangerous. “Please, fifteen minutes. We have like three hours.” She groaned. “Then I’ll have you screaming all over again.”

“Fine by me, but this time I’m getting you off at least twice. Two to one just isn’t fair. I want you just as pleased as me.”

Looking back on things, Blake mentally retracted her statement about boys and their pride. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. “I’ll hold you to that.” Blake closed her eyes and got some rest.

xxxx

“We’re back!” Yang shouted as she walked in with her two teammates. She looked over to see Blake chillin on her bed reading in her sleeping clothes. “Gee if it wasn't for your clothes then I would’ve believed you actually sat there and read the entire time. I’m surprised you haven’t finished all of your books.”

“I’m a slow reader.” Blake blatantly lied. “I did finish a couple of times, books I mean.” Her eyes looked up from the pages to see Weiss staring at her in voiceless disbelief. She wiggled her eyebrows, making Weiss turn red.

The heiress turned around and walked out the room.

“Weiss, where are you going?” Ruby asked.

The Schnee sighed and kept walking. “A place that makes sense.”

Ruby didn’t know what that meant she looked at Yang who shrugged, then to Blake who masterfully controlled her laughter. “Huh, I guess Blake reading slowly through her for a loop?”

It was impossible for Blake not to place her book over her face and smile behind it. “Never change Ruby.” She muttered, “Never change.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part II. (Harry Styles)

thank you so much for all the love you have showed to the first part of valerie! im so happy you are just as excited about the story as i am so i hope i won’t let you down.

if you are enjoying the story please make sure to give it a like and reblog so it can reach even more people and of course as always im more than happy to read your thoughts and comments on the part!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Working on a major report you have to finish by the end of the week, you are completely focused on your computer’s screen when your phone buzzes on the desk next to the keyboard. You grab it and answer the call without even checking the screen.

“Y/N,” you say into the phone.

“What’s your size?”

Harry’s voice pushes you out of focus as you grimace unintentionally.

“Since when do you have my number? And what the Hell are you talking about?”

“Since I asked for it from your sister,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “And I’m asking you what size shirts you wear.”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m trying to dress up as you for Halloween.” Your eyes widen at his comment, but soon enough he continues. “Because I found cute matching shirts for godparents and a goddaughter and I wanna buy it, but I don’t know your size.”

“Oh,” you say, finally understanding the situation. “What kind of shirts?”

“It’s Fairy Godparents themed, thought it would be funny to wear it at maybe Christmas or something. But only if you are up for it.”

“Yeah, sounds fine,” you nod and give him a little guide to what sizes you usually wear, letting him decide which information he needs for the shirt he wants to buy.

“Have you thought about what you are buying for Val for Christmas?” he asks once you put the topic of your size aside.

“Harry, it’s the middle of October. I don’t even think about Christmas presents until the 15th of December,” you let out a tired sigh.

No matter how bad you want to start shopping in time every year, you have failed every time so far, no exception.

“This proves that I’m the better godparent,” he huffs on the other end of the line.

“It’s not a competition, Harry,” you roll your eyes.

“But if it was, I would be winning. Anyway, I might go a little overboard with the present, so if I end up ordering something big, are you interested in teaming up? I don’t like to give the biggest present on my own, makes it feel like I’m bragging.”

“But you kind of are bragging.”

“That’s besides the point. So, do you want to share or not?”

“I guess we could,” you shrug your shoulders leaning back in your seat. Your legs feel numb as you finally straighten them under the desk, you haven’t even realized how long you’ve been sitting there, eyes glued to the screen.

“Perfect. Is that all?” you ask, not because you are impatient to leave the conversation, it’s been kind of pleasant, you just have a lot to do.

“So you’re really going on that blind date on Friday?”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden change in the topic and how boldly he just asked you about your private life. This was the last thing you expected from him.

“Why does that have anything to do with you?”

“Was just asking,” he says and you can see him shrugging his shoulders. “It’s an odd thing.”

“For you. I’m fine with it.”

“Are you though?”

“Why does that matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” he simply answers. “At least there will be something to make a joke out of next time we meet,” he snorts and you roll your eyes at his comment. Now that sounded more like Harry.

“Unless you won’t have any information about it.”

“You seem to forget Steven gossips like a little girl and I can also have my ways with Rosa too. I’ll have the details before you even get home after the date.”

“You are so full of yourself, Styles,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Yeah, and it seems like you were also full of me one time.”

“Go to Hell,” you spat, mocking his British accent that just makes him laugh. “If you are done making a joke out of me I’d like to get back to work.”

“Whatever, Love. We both know you just want to get away from this conversation so I don’t roast you even more.”

“Bye, Harry!” you sing before ending the line without even waiting for an answer. Harry Styles once again proved how talented he is in getting on your nerves.

 ***

 Marcus turns out to be a great company and you are finally sending your kudos to your sister for setting you up with a hot guy who is also smart enough to keep up the conversation and not bore you out of your pants.

He took you to a fancy restaurant that’s in the building of a hotel, a place you normally never go to, because it’s pretty much out of your budget, but Marcus was persistent on going there and paying for dinner. After the starter awkwardness you soon cool down and maybe that wine he ordered has helped you relax too. Marcus tells you about himself and then you do the same, just covering the usual fields of your life.

“I have to admit, when Rosa said she wants to set me up with her little sister I was hesitant at first,” he chuckles softly when your dishes finally arrive.

“You’re not alone with that.”

“Does she set you up often?”

You shake your head. “No, there was just one other time, but the guy was horrible, I have no idea why Rosa thought we would be a match.”

“I hope I’ve been better than him,” Marcus chuckles.

“Absolutely.”

You hear your phone buzzing in your purse and at first you just ignore it, but when it goes off two more times you sigh and reach for your purse.

“Sorry, I forgot to mute it completely,” you excuse yourself as you grab your phone and your plan was just to mute it, but then you see that you got three texts from Harry and your curiosity doesn’t let you slide over it so you quickly check them.

“Well done with your outfit.”

“Gives a great view of your legs.”

“Is it also this tight on your ass?”

You run over the messages two more times, staring at your phone in complete confusion. What is he talking about? How does he know what you are wearing?

“Is everything alright?” Marcus asks and you snap your eyes back at him.

“I, uhh—Yes, everything is fine, it’s just that…”

As your gaze runs over the place your anger immediately boils inside you when you spot that familiar grin at the bar. Harry is sitting right there with a scotch in his hand that he raises when you spot him. There’s another guy with him who you don’t know, but it seems like he is more focused on you than his friend.

“For fuck’s sake…” you breathe out clenching your jaw. “Excuse me for a second,” you tell Marcus who just curiously eyes you as you slide out of your seat and head over to the bar. As you march over to the grinning Harry you are literally fuming, ready to kill him right then and there.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap at him trying to keep your voice down. You wouldn’t want to make a scene for sure.

“Having a drink, what does it seem like?” he asks innocently, but his face tells you otherwise.

“How did you know I would be here?”

“Why do you think I went into such depths as finding out where your blind date would be? Can’t I be here by accident?”

“Nothing about you is an accident except the fact that I ever found you charming enough to sleep with you,” you growl back and earn a laugh from his friend. Harry wasn’t expecting such a harsh response for sure, you can tell it surprised him, but he doesn’t let it push him out of his cocky act.

“Was it Rosa and Steven?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest.

“What if both?” he asks smugly and God! You just want to smack him across the face.

“Why are you here, Harry?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe I just want those details first handed. It’s funnier to witness it all.”

“You know what? I don’t think that’s the truth. The reason why you are here is because you are afraid someone might treat me right and that I might have an experience that would just make you appear like an even bigger asshole than what you already are.”

Harry chuckles looking away from you, but you can tell you just wounded his confidence big time, so you decide to take it further.

“I made a mistake with hooking up with you, but I’m smarter now and I don’t start with little boys like you. I know my worth and what I deserve so I’d really appreciate it if you could move on and let me be. I know it’s hard to forget about me, but you’ll have to try.”

You mentally highfive yourself, because this time you actually made him shut his mouth, he has no retort as he opens his mouth but then closes it back. Flashing him one last bitter smile you turn around and walk back to your date and make sure Harry has a nice view of your ass. He can have one nice thing after getting so burned.

 Your little scene with Harry doesn’t ruin your date, especially because not long after you made his jaw drop to the floor he decided it’s best if he just leaves quietly. By the time you finished eating he was nowhere to be seen.

However you keep thinking about why he even chose to come there. It was way over that healthy line of picking on someone and being an annoying stalker. It’s one thing wanting to know the awkward details about your date, but showing up was definitely just too much.

Part of you was expecting him to call you the next day, maybe apologize, but more like to make a joke out of the whole thing but you don’t hear a word from him and it makes it easier for you to forget about it pretty fast.

A week later you are having dinner over at Rosa’s, just the three of you plus baby Valerie who you keep in your arms the whole night, not able to get enough of her cuteness.

“I knew you two would hit it off,” Rosa sighs with a proud smile and Steven just rolls his eyes at his wife.

“It was alright, yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle. You just told them about your date with Marcus and you can tell Rosa feels like she just hit the jackpot. After that disastrous try you had last time Marcus was surely a change for the better.

Valerie looks up at you with her huge eyes as you flash a grimace at her, earning a short giggle before her attention diverts somewhere else. She is grabbing onto your finger, not letting go of it as if she is trying to hold herself in place by her grip.

“Funny thing, Harry showed up at the restaurant too.”

Rosa almost chokes on her water and Steven starts to cough very suspiciously. Glancing up at them you can tell they are both to blame Harry had any information about where Marcus was taking you.

“Really? That’s… odd,” Rosa clears her throat.

“Is it though? You don’t have to pretend like you had nothing to do with it.”

“I’m sorry, but he just makes you talk so easily, he always gets what he wants,” Rosa sighs, clearly feeling guilty about it. “But I didn’t think he would actually show up. I thought he was just curious.”

“Did he cause a lot of trouble?” Steven asks, worried his friend gave you a hard time. He is not wrong, but it’s not your intention to throw dirt on Harry.

“It was just awkward. I don’t see why he came there,” you admit, shaking your head as you adjust baby Valerie in your arms so she is sitting now on your lap, looking around the table curiously.

You catch a look Rosa and Steve shares and you immediately know something is up.

“What? Do you know something I don’t?”

“No, we definitely don’t,” Rosa shakes her head, fingers running up and down the glass in her hands. “I just… there could be one reason I think he went there for.”

“What is that?”

“You don’t want me to say it out loud, it’s silly, let’s just forget about it,” she tries to end the discussion, but there’s no way you let it slip.

“Rosa!”

“I was just thinking, that… considering the past you two have, he might have been… jealous?”

“That’s literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you scoff as you turn to Valerie. “Did your momma lose her mind, Princess?”

Valerie just looks at you curiously before smacking her little hands on the edge of the table, completely ignoring the conversation.

“I told you, you wouldn’t like this idea, but this is what I thought about.”

“Then stop thinking about it. There’s absolutely no way this is what it was about. Besides, our past is irrelevant. He was literally the biggest jerk to me when he had a chance with me. Why would have he blown that just to be up in my business now all jealous?”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t have any plot holes, but it could be a reason,” Rosa adds while Steven just hums next to her, not really taking part in the conversation.

Soon enough Steven takes Valerie up to put her to sleep while you and Rosa stay downstairs. You have moved on from Harry, but your mind keeps wandering back to him so you find yourself bringing him up again.

“What do you think about Harry? Aside from everything I’ve told you.”

You’ve always been curious how other people see him, since you had a very strong opinion on the guy that was tainted by everything that happened between the two of you.

Rosa takes her time thinking of her answer and you wait for her patiently. Leaning onto the table she rests her arms on it turning to face you.

“From what I’ve seen from him, he is a very loyal, caring and loving person. He and Steven have been friends for so long and Steven always told me how he could count on him no matter what and he has been proving the same to me. Have I told you he was the reason I got to wear the dress I dreamed of on my wedding?”

“What?” you ask surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Basically, I had that dress and a cheaper one held in the store until the day before the wedding. I knew we couldn’t afford the expensive one, but I guess I was hoping until the last minute for a miracle to happen and it seems like Harry was that. Steven asked him to pick the cheaper dress up because he was caught up with work that day. He told him specifically to bring the cheaper one and leave the other there. But when he arrived with the dress in the morning when I was getting ready, he had the expensive one. He said the lady asked which one he needed and when he said the cheaper one, the lady seemed sad and told him how much I loved the other one but I even told her I couldn’t afford it. Harry didn’t hesitate to pay for the difference the dress had over the cheaper one. I started crying the moment I saw that he had the one I loved and I was also panicking that I won’t be able to pay back to him.”

You listen to her in awe. It surely is a side of Harry you haven’t had the luck to see in the act, though you felt like you had a glimpse of it before the night of the wedding took a heated and then a quite sad turn later on. The Harry you got to know in the very beginning was the same Rosa was just talking about.

“Harry told me he won’t take my money, no matter how hard I tried to make a deal with him, he made his mind up and didn’t let me change it. I knew then that everything Steven told me about him is true. And I know he can be a cocky fucker sometimes,” she chuckles making you smile as well, “but he has a heart of gold for sure. And this is why I agreed when Steven told me he wants him to be the godfather. I want Val to learn from him, to look up to him, because I really think he can have an amazing impact on her.

“Listen,” she sighs leaning back in her seat and you watch her curiously. “I know that the two of you hate each other with passion, but… you can’t do it forever.”

You let out a long sigh looking down at your lap. It’s one of those sisterly talks when she’ll share her wisdom with you and you’ll just know she’s right. Rosa is always right. Well, mostly.

“I wasn’t there, I don’t know how he acted or what he told you exactly, but he is family now and one of you will have to take the first step. You’re wasting energy on the constant fighting, but I really believe you could work together as a team. I know it’s not just on you, I’ll try to have a talk with him as well. No matter what I think about why he showed up at your date, it was still an ass move. I’m just asking you to… be patient with him and maybe only say out loud half the insults you address to him in your head. That would be a nice start,” she chuckles and reaching over her hand squeezes yours as you nod quietly.

It almost hurts you how right she is. It doesn’t matter how pissed you are at Harry for everything he did and said in the past, you can’t keep on playing his ridiculous game forever. It consumes too much energy and time when you could just be neutral and coexist with each other happily in Valerie’s life. She doesn’t deserve to grow up seeing her godparents hate each other with a passion, that’s just not right. This time you gotta suck it up and move on from what happened, but everyone knows it can only happen if he cooperates as well. You can only hope he’ll take Rosa’s advice and show a nicer side of his face to you.

***

The room was exactly like battlefield, makeup and hair products laid on every possible surface as all the bridesmaids were getting ready, two hairstylists working on the girls while a third one was perfecting Rosa’s loose curls. Grabbing your dress you looked around for a possible corner where you could change since you were finished with hair and makeup, but you saw no free spot, so you had to be creative.

“I’ll go get changed in one of the other rooms,” you told Rosa before you walked out, down the hallway looking for an open and empty room you could use as a changing room for just two minutes.

Luckily you found one just two doors down the room Rosa and the girls were getting ready and taking a look around you made sure no one saw you sneak in there. It seemed once it was used as a smaller conference room, but now it was filled with boxes and extra chairs, looking more like a storage room. It was just fine for a quick change.

You quickly got rid of your plain shirt and jeans along with your bra since the dress had one sewed into it. You stood there, already in your dress as you were trying to get the zipper up, but it seemed like it got stuck.

“Great,” you grumbled, still jumping around hoping to find an angle where it slides right up, but it was stubbornly staying in the same spot. You were just about to gather your stuff and go back to the bride’s room and have someone zip you up when the door flew open and a tall, curly haired guy appeared with a suit on a hanger on his arm and a pair of shiny shoes in his other hand.

You jumped at the stranger’s arrival and he seemed just as surprised to see someone here as you were.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

His British accent was thick through his words and it immediately made you think that he must be Harry, Steven’s best friend. You’ve heard about him before but never actually got the chance to meet him. Now standing in front of him with your back almost fully exposed you can’t help but feel a little shy. He surely has an intimidatingly handsome face and physique that shows even though his loose hoodie.

“I just snuck in here to get changed, I was just about to leave,” you explained yourself, holding your previous clothes to your chest along with the front of the dress so it didn’t fall.

“Your dress is… unzipped,” he pointed it out with a soft chuckle and you looked over your shoulder as if you had to check it for yourself, but you knew it well it was in fact unzipped.

“Oh, yeah. The zipper got stuck, I’ll just… have one of the girls help me.”

“Come here, let me help you,” he offered and you hesitantly, but turned around to show him your back.

His hold fingers made you jump a little when he reached for the zipper.

“Sorry,” he chuckled and you just shook your head letting him know it was alright.

It took him a few tries to get the zipper going, but it finally gave in and slid all the way up. Once it reached the top Harry ran his fingers over it gently as if he sealed it, the touch of his fingertips sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, turning around. “I’m… Y/N by the way,” you told him, holding out a hand that he took and shook with a charming smile on his soft looking, pink lips.

“Harry. You’re Rosa’s sister, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Steven’s best friend.”

“I am,” he chuckled. “You look a lot like Rosa, if I might say.”

“We get it a lot. It’s the eyes, I think,” you told him. You and Rosa more or less have the same eyes and maybe share a similar jawline too that makes it pretty obvious that you two are sisters.

“Two sets of pretty eyes,” he smiled and your eyebrows rose at the compliment, feeling the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks.

“I… better get going, so you can change too,” you told him turning away and rushing to the door before he could realize how nervous he just made you.

“See you around, Pretty Eyes!” he called out after you.

 He called you Pretty Eyes quite often that evening. Whenever you met at the bar, when he sat next to you through dinner, when the two of you talked outside, a little farther away from the people having a smoke. But the last time he called you that was when the two of you were heading to his room, he was all over you, kissing you anywhere he could, hands gripping your waist greedily as you were trying to open the door with the card he handed you in the elevator. That was the last time he called you that. You haven’t heard this nickname from him since then.

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F is for Friends - part 4

Look, I know it's 4 am, but hear me out: I finally finished this part. Ignore typos because at this point, that's just who I am as a person honestly.

Hope you like it!

Read the other parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3

__________________

“You haven’t seen him in how long?” Maddy asks you from the kitchen. You and your roommate were both home on a weekend for the first time in what seemed like forever, taking the opportunity to invite Fran and Lindsey over for a girls day. Nolan always seemed to be the topic of conversation whenever you entered the room, and you had a feeling that he was even when you weren’t there. The girls were overcome with affection for the rosy cheeked, long haired boy next door who was slowly becoming your friend.

Just your friend.

“Not since he came to my classroom last week,” you tell them. “I dropped him off and then got ready for my date with Keelan that night.”

Fran scoffs at the sound of your boyfriend's name, Lindsey rolling her eyes. “Oh, god,” Maddy groans.

“What?” you whine, dreading where this conversation was going.

“I’m trying to block that night from my memory. Especially considering you didn’t remember that I was home that night,” she says, handing Fran and Lindsey the water they had asked for.

“We weren’t that bad,” you tell her, the heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment anyway. You two had went back to your place after the date, not hesitating to polish off the two open bottles of wine that were in your fridge, also not hesitating to have sex as would most couples who want to do that sort of thing.

“Yes, you were. Hearing you and Keelan fuck is like listening to a poorly written PG-13 makeout session audio clip from Riverdale,” she lets out, Fran spitting her water as Lindsey starts choking on hers.

Your mouth hangs open as you try to comprehend what she just said. “Ok, one, rude. Two, why is that the comparison you make? And three, why were you listening?”

Maddy scoffs, “As if the walls weren’t so thin that Nolan and Kevin could hear you playing music in the first place. Anyway, whatever it was you were doing in there I’m pretty sure it would end up in Riverdale.”

“I need you to stop watching Riverdale,” you say, straightfaced to your roommate, “and stop comparing it to my sex life!”

“Oh! I have an idea!” Fran squeals, changing the subject.

“Oh, no,” you groan, knowing that whatever she was about to suggest was going to end poorly for at least one of you.

She rolls her eyes, getting up and going over to your window. Your car was parked right next to Kevin's, an indication that the boys were home. “What if we went out tonight and asked Kevin and Nolan to come?”

You can’t help but glare at her, knowing what her tactics were: if you and Nolan went out and got drunk together, her mind believed that you would reveal whatever feelings she thought you had for each other. Everything would come out in a drunken confession that you would have to deal with in the morning. “We’re not going out tonight.”

Fran drags you from the chair you were comfortably sitting in, Lindsey and Maddy following as the four of your run out your door. You were facing Nolan and Kevin’s, Fran knocking wildly on the wood before pushing you to the front of the group.

Nolan hears someone at the door, interrupting the workout he was doing solely to keep himself busy. He could hear voices on the other side of the door, indicating that he probably should grab a shirt to put on, reaching for the nearest towel he could find instead. “Hey,” he says, seeing you, Maddy, Fran and Lindsey all standing at his door, your mouths hanging open. He could feel his cheeks turning more pink at the thought of all of you seeing him without a shirt, even though he knew you had before.

You, on the other hand, were trying to figure out what to say, coming up short at the sight of Nolan’s abs, sweat making his body shine and leaving you to admire it longer than you needed to be. “I,” you start, forgetting why you were standing in front of your shirtless neighbor in the first place, “have no idea why we’re here.”

“We’re going out tonight,” Fran starts, pushing you out of the way, “and were wondering if you and Kevin and any of the guys wanted to join us.”

Nolan wasn’t focusing on what Fran was saying, he was too busy trying not to read too much into your flustered reaction, paying more attention to how your eyes traced his body. “Yeah, sure,” he shrugs, not taking his eyes off you. He sees your expression change, a nervous look on your face as you shook your head at him. “Uh, actually, we, um,” he tries to retract.

“Perfect!” Lindsey practically screams, Nolan visibly shaken by her outburst. “Y/N will text you the details!”

Before you or him could protest, the four of you are running back to your place, you looking over your shoulder at Nolan, an apologetic look on his face.

Why didn’t you want him to go out with you guys tonight? That was the first time he had seen you since he went to your classroom. He didn’t know if you were avoiding him or if you were just busy, but either way, he wanted to see you tonight.

“Ok, girl, if you don’t want Nolan, can I have him?” Fran drools once the four of you are back in your apartment. “God, he is so hot.”

“I, uh, I don’t care,” you tell her. What or who Nolan did was not your problem. “If he wants to and you want to, then go for it, what’s stopping you?”

She looks at you, a smirk covering her face. “You.”

You scowl at her, not unaware of the shocked looks on Maddy and Lindsey’s faces. “Oh, really?”

“You clearly like him. You’ve liked him since the day he knocked on your door.”

“I’m in love with Keelan. I have been in love with Keelan for a couple of years now, if you remember. Just because you hate him for whatever stupid reason, doesn’t mean that I do,” you tell her, walking away to your room. You didn’t have to deal with this. She wasn’t one of your students where you had to settle whatever conflict was coming up between you.

“Your boyfriend is a jerk, come on,” she says, following you.

You whip around to face her, catching her off guard as she takes a step back when she sees the anger in your face. “How has he really been a jerk to you? Because, from what I remember, he was the only one on the guy's team who stood by you guys when the athletic director wouldn’t help fund your trip to that regatta in England while they were fully funding the boy's trips to Boston and the IRAs and a trip to California for a training session with someone from Team USA. He’s the one who tutored you for the entirety of our junior year for free so you wouldn’t fail your class and wouldn’t lose your scholarship or your place on the team, and did the same for Lindsey. He’s the one who literally gave us the key to his family's beach house down the shore the last three summers in a row because he wanted to make sure that we took a break and didn’t get burned out. But you’re right, Fran, he is a jerk.”

“Come on, Y/N-” she starts.

“No. Stop,” you tell her. “I’m sick of you guys being absolute bitches about Keelan when he has never done anything to warrant this besides be on the crew team. If you want to go out with Nolan, and he wants to go out with you, then be my guest. I’m happy with my jerk.”

She stands there, stunned by your outburst, Lindsey and Maddy trying to comprehend what just happened themselves when you slam your bedroom door, locking yourself in your room until it was time to leave.

Your phone buzzes as you throw yourself onto your bed, thinking it would be one of the girls asking you to come out of your room.

Nolan: Do you really want us to come with you guys tonight?

Y/N: I really don’t care. Fran seems to have something planned and wants you guys there.

Nolan: Fran does?

Y/N: Yep.

Nolan shouldn’t be reading too much into this, staring at his phone hoping to see those three bubbles popping up to show that you were going to explain more. What could Francesca have planned? What did that mean?

He gets the details about where you guys were planning on going, forwarding the information about going to Howl to some of his teammates. What could Fran have planned?

You lay on your bed, your phone buzzing with texts from Nolan and Keelan coming in. Anything you felt for Nolan was meaningless. He was your neighbor. He was your friend. Keelan was the guy you were dating. Keelan was the guy you loved.

You start going through your closet, not really wanting to go but knowing that you were going to end up dragged out anyway, flipping through all your teaching clothes as if you thought there was anything in there that was appropriate for a bar and not for school.

You hear a knock on your door, Fran poking her head into your room earning a scoff from you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m still mad at you,” you respond, not looking at her.

“That’s fair,” she says, plopping herself on your bed next to the pile of clothes that you were forming from your closet. “Does this mean you’re still coming with us?”

“Yeah, you’re paying for drinks.”

“That’s fair, too.” The two of you let silence come between you, you rummaging through your clothes to try to find something to wear while she fiddles with the hem of one of your shirts. “What if you did the black ripped jeans with this shirt?” Fran says, holding up something that you were sure was Maddy’s, probably stolen from her on a night when you were going out without her and buried amongst the rest of your clothes.

“Are you guys going home to change or what are you wearing?” you ask her, both of you pretending like you weren’t mad at her.

“Can I borrow something of yours?”

“Yep.”

She shuffles through your clothes some more, Maddy and Lindsey clamoring around in the kitchen to make something for the four of you to eat before you started drinking, not doing anything to try to be quiet. “You know I love you. I just want you to be with a guy that deserves you.”

You take in a deep breath, finally turning to Fran sitting on your bed. “How do you know that isn’t Keelan? I’ve been happy with him for how many years now?”

“You’ve been together since we were juniors which was, what, five years ago now? Four? Have you two even talked about anything like getting married or starting a family together?”

You think about it, knowing that you’ve seen proposals, you’ve definitely looked at rings, but it was never serious. You’ve watched movies with Keelan where the characters get engaged or get married, try to have a family, all of that, but you never did talk about it. You never thought of a future with him, you only thought of the present.

You shake your head, Fran giving you that sympathetic look that you didn’t want. “If you’ve been together for this long, and he’s not thinking about forever with you, then what’s he thinking of? You can love Keelan, but if he can’t promise to love you back forever, then you’re just wasting time.”

“You think so?” She shakes her head, but you wish she didn’t. “You’re not just saying this because you don’t like him?” you ask.

“I don’t like him because I’m saying this. He’s a good person, but I don’t like seeing you with him when I’m not sure he wants to be with you forever.” Before you can answer, you hear Maddy and Lindsey dropping something from your kitchen, knowing that whatever it was you were going to have to clean up yourself if you ever wanted it clean. “If you want your kitchen safe, I think we need to go out there,” Fran laughs, pulling you up from your bed. “We’ll change after we eat.”

The four of you eat and pre-game, thankful that Lindsey and Fran actually managed to clean up the mess well enough that you didn’t have to worry about it during your night out, Maddy no help even though she was the one who made it.

The boys said they would meet you at the bar, getting to Howl and texting Keelan to let him know where you were. Fran’s words had freaked you out. You knew you didn’t have to text Keelan where you were going, but there was something about the whole ‘if you’ve been together this long, shouldn’t you be talking about forever’ that made you feel like you had to. You and Keelan were happy, but did that mean that you have to be talking about marriage and kids and all that stuff? Was there something wrong with your relationship if you weren’t at this point?

“You look like you’re having a lot of fun,” Nolan’s voice snaps you out of what would turn into you spiraling. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, signaling to the bartender to get you another drink. “Nothing.”

“Good thing you don’t teach drama because you’re an awful actor,” he laughs, earning a glare from you. “Oh, come on, that was good.”

“Good thing you aren’t a comedian because you aren’t funny,” you fire back, a smile on your face as he laughs with you.

“Come on. What’s wrong? You can tell me anything,” he says, probably a little too flirty. But that’s something a friend would do. A friend would listen to you when you were having problems or when you were feeling down.

You sigh, taking a sip of the new drink in front of you. “Fran said something about Keelan and I that bothered me.” He raises his eyebrows, urging you to tell him more. “Apparently they think I’m wasting my time being with him,” you tell him, looking off to the crowd at the bar, just spacing out with your attention on nothing in particular.

He swallows hard, thankful that you didn’t notice his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down at your words. If you were wasting your time, then that would mean you would break up with Keelan, wouldn’t it? He was thinking too far into this, wasn’t he? “Do you,” he hesitates, clearing his throat to try to cover up his nerves, “do you think you’re wasting your time?”

You shrug, turning your attention back to him. His cheeks were more red than normal, his blushing causing heat to rush to your own cheeks. At least if you broke up with Keelan, you could try with Nolan, right?

No. Because you weren’t breaking up with Keelan. But, “I didn’t. But now, I don’t know.” You set into a rant about what Fran said to you in your room, adding in the fact that Lindsey and Maddy told you they also felt that way, but Lindsey still didn’t like him based on the fact that he was on the crew team and she had decided to hold that petty grudge even though that was a few years ago at this point. “I love him. But we have been together for a while, so why haven’t we even talked about it?”

“Do you see yourself marrying him?”

You stop and think about it. Before you can answer his question, Lindsey and Maddy whisk you away to dance, leaving Nolan at the bar with your drink. He sits and watches you, pretending not to hear the girl who had approached him and tried to have a conversation with him. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but he couldn’t help but focus all his attention on you. He studied you as you moved, the fluid motions in sync with the rhythm of the music, the laughter that escaped your lips when you hear Maddy and Lindsey sing, probably off key, the smile on your face as you joined in with them.

Nolan takes your drink back with him to the table, his teammates sitting there, unsurprisingly not getting up from the corner they had occupied. He doesn’t listen to them as they talk, Kevin and Travis being obnoxious as always. He found you again at the bar, leaning against it and talking to Maddy, Lindsey and Fran nowhere in sight.

“Nolan,” Travis calls to him, finally getting his friend’s attention. “Why are you over here if she’s over there?” he asks, pointing to you.

“Why would I go over there?” he deadpans, not wanting to be reminded that he was falling for you, hard and fast when he shouldn’t be.

“You’re in love with her and you want to be with her?” he states as if it were obvious, Nolan glaring at him while his teammates nodding. Nolan wasn’t that discrete when it came to his feelings about you to any of the guys, apparently. With you, he was sure you had no idea, but with them, they could read him like a book, something he hated at this moment.

Before he could answer, Keelan appears, as if by magic, his arms wrapped around you from behind. Nolan could see you tense up for a moment, not knowing who it was. You look down at your waist, a smile on your face as you come to realize it was your boyfriend, Nolan wanting nothing more than for him to be the one surprising you and holding you like that.

“Is that the boyfriend?” Oskar asks, right as you squeal in delight that he had come to see you, kissing him, your one hand on his shoulder, the other at the back of his neck, fingers intertwined with the curls there.

“Yep,” Nolan lets out, burying his face in his hands.

“He’s pretty hot,” Travis lets out, Kevin smacking him in the chest.

“Then you date him,” Kevin chirps, Nolan not wanting to say anything else to them.

“Karly might have something to say about that.”

Nolan tunes out the boys, their banter something he wanted nothing to do with, probably about him fawning over you while you were there, Keelan’s hands on you as the two of you danced, your foreheads touching and not taking your eyes off each other. If you were worried about the future, it didn’t show, enjoying the moment that was happening in front of you.

“Hey, come dance with me,” Fran snaps Nolan away from you, her hand extended to Nolan.

“Sure, why not,” Nolan mumbles, trying to be excited about dancing with your best friend, ignoring the guys hollers as they watched their friend get up with a girl, actually saying yes to someone who approached him.

The two of them start talking, falling into a weirdly easy conversation. People started gathering on the dance floor, pushing the two of them together, Nolan’s hand finding Fran’s back, pulling her closer to him. For the first time since he met you, he wasn’t thinking about you. He didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol, but Fran was right there, single, beautiful, funny. You had mentioned that going out with the guys was Fran’s idea, so did that mean Fran wanted Nolan for her? Should he be focusing his attention on someone who didn’t have a seemingly serious boyfriend? Probably.

You and Keelan get interrupted by Maddy and Lindsey, finally prying Keelan’s body off you. “Have you seen Fran?” Lindsey yells over the music.

“Not for a while, no,” you tell her, Keelan’s arms wrapping around you, both of you still moving with the music.

Maddy cranes her neck, trying to see over the crowd. You see her eyes go wide, grabbing Lindsey’s arm to show her what she was seeing. You follow their gaze, finding Fran and Nolan dancing together, her arms draped on his shoulders, him holding her as close as Keelan had been holding you. Fran kept her word about moving in on Nolan. “Good for her,” you swallow hard, Maddy and Lindsey turning back to you, shocked. “What?” you ask as if nothing were wrong.

Keelan had felt your entire body tense up when you saw Nolan and Fran. It was probably nothing, though. You were just happy for your friend, your body having an involuntary reaction to seeing her with someone you knew instead of a complete stranger like she normally was. He didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t want to think anything of it.

________________________

“You’re still at school? It’s four already,” Keelan’s voice fills your classroom from your phone speaker, the building empty except for the teachers still roaming around.

You sigh, putting down your pen, pushing aside your lesson plan book. “Yeah. It’s parent-teacher conferences tonight, so I’m just staying until those are over. There’s no point in me driving all the way home just to have to drive all the way back.”

“What are you doing for dinner?”

“Ya know,” you start, getting up from your desk to stretch your legs as if you weren’t on your feet all day, “Hadn’t thought about that. I’ll probably just throw together whatever is in the fridge when I get home.”

“Babe, that’s going to be almost nine, you can’t wait that long,” Keelan says, concern in his voice.

You shrug even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “It’s fine, I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“What time is the first conference?” he asks, extraneous noise coming from his end. It sounded like he was getting into his car, starting it up and driving off to whatever it was he had to do, even though you were sure he still had to be at work for another hour.

“Uh, 6, why?”

“Just wondering.” The two of you stay on the phone for a little while longer, talking about anything you felt like until he had to go for whatever reason.

You get back to filling out your plan book, looking through your one from last year and the hundreds of lesson plans you had on your computer, using the time for prep that you were supposed to get during the day, even if you were always called to cover another class or just had other things to do in general.

Someone knocks on your door, praying that you were right to call, “it’s open.”

“Delivery,” Keelan pokes his head in, holding up a bag of what you presumed was food based on the smell. “Still have some time to eat with me?”

“Keel!” you squeal, jumping up from your desk chair to greet him. You pull him into your room, grabbing some paper towels to clean off one of the lab benches quickly so you could eat, not a hundred percent trusting your students to clean up all the chemicals they could potentially spill on the table tops. “What’s this for”?

He starts unpacking the food, handing you a container with your favorite dish from Sabrina’s. “You didn’t sound like you were too sure you had food you could eat, and knowing you and Maddy, you’re probably on the end of food from your last shopping trip. Plus,” he says, leaning closer to you, “this way, I get to have dinner with my girl.” His lips connect to yours, quick and sweet so the two of you could get to eating.

For the first time, you were focused on just Keelan, Nolan not lingering in your thoughts. Keelan was the guy for you, you were sure of it. You were almost sure of it, at least, Fran’s words still swimming around in your mind. “Hey,” you start, finishing the bite of food you took, “Have you ever thought about our future?”

Keelan freezes, confused and probably caught off guard by the question. “Our future?” he repeats, “What do you mean?”

“Like, us. Are you going to be my boyfriend forever, or is anything going to happen?” you start, not sure how to put it otherwise.

He shrugs, focusing on his food. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Your shoulders drop, wishing that his answer wasn’t the same as yours. “You’ve never thought about us getting married or having kids. Nothing?”

“I never thought of my life without you, but never explicitly thought of marriage, I guess?” You nod, not wanting to look at him in the moment. You had parents coming in less than twenty minutes at this point, wishing that you hadn’t asked him this question now. “Hey,” he says, reaching out and touching your hand. “When I think of the future, I think of you and I being happy together. We don’t need to be married to be that. Do we?”

“I don’t know. It wouldn’t hurt.”

“You want to get married?”

You open and close your mouth like a fish, realizing that Lindsey and Maddy pulling you away from Nolan at Howl was the right thing to do, because you still had no answer a few days later. Before you could tell him you didn’t know anything, Javier comes into your room, Anderson not far behind.

“Have you taught Electrochem yet?” Anderson’s voice booms for no reason, Javier somehow looking both annoyed and panicked at the same time.

“Yeah, last month. Have you taught Electrochem yet?”

“No,” Anderson says. “I thought we were doing it after gas laws.”

“We have never done it after gas laws,” you tell him, getting up from the lab table. “We do it with types of reactions because of half reactions and redox.”

Anderson starts going off about how all three of you are supposed to be on the same page, Javier and Keelan awkwardly just there in your room while you shuffle through your box of papers.

“Anderson, aren’t you the one who put the Galvanic Cell on the midterm? Is this why every single kid of yours got it wrong last year, because you teach it too late?” you say, handing him a packet while his face turns red, “Just take this, Javier and I made it a few years ago and it works.”

“We need to be on the same page from now on,” he tells you before storming out.

“How is it our fault that he doesn’t listen when we say this is what we’re teaching next?” Javier asks, sitting down next to Keelan, putting his face in his hands.

“At least we know why his students do shitty on that page of the midterm.”

“Anderson really is a jerk,” Keelan pipes in. “Didn’t he blame you for grading his students wrong on the midterm last year?” he asks. You had filled Keelan in on how you guys split up the grading since you all gave the same midterm; you had the first four pages, Javier the next four, and Anderson the next three. Anderson’s kids always did awful on the first eight pages, somehow redeeming themselves when he put the grades in.

You nod, the principal coming over the loudspeaker to alert the teachers that the parents were there. “I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” you tell Keelan, cleaning up in a hurry.

He says yes, kissing you goodbye and running out the door to go home, probably, Javier lingering behind for a moment. “You two ok?”

“How could you possibly think something was wrong,” you say, slightly sarcastic.

“I can read you like a book.”

“Yeah, well, I guess there should be a book club,” you groan. “Nolan says the same thing.”

“Tell me fast,” he says, both of you standing outside your doors to greet parents and try to direct them around the school in the event that they were lost, something that was very easy to do if you weren’t in the building every day.

“Fran said something about how Keel and I haven’t talked about our future together and we just talked about it,” you say, praying that the parents passing you by weren’t that focused on your conversation and instead were looking at the numbers on the doors.

“And what does that future look like?”

“The same as the present.”

“You could always go for Nolan,” he jokes, throwing his hands up in defense. “I’m kidding.” He leaves, one of his student’s parents showing up at his door.

You were waiting for Darren’s mom, Mrs. Alexander a few minutes late. “Ms. Y/L/N!” you hear someone yelling, a woman who looked just like Darren trying to sprint down the halls. “I’m sorry I’m late! I got lost!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckle, the contrast between Darren’s shyness and his mother’s lack thereof somehow not surprising. “Come on in.”

The two of you sit at one of the lab benches, pulling out your notebook and pen. “Darren has made some great improvements this semester, this month especially,” you start, handing her a print out of his grades. “Grade-wise, he’s one of my top students. He’s smart, he knows what’s going on, I have no worry about how he’s going to do on the upcoming midterm.”

“That’s so good to hear,” she says, her finger running along the sheet that displayed A after A on it.

“And he’s talking with Sydney when we do labs, especially since we had some of the Flyers come in the class and work with them. Something Nolan Patrick did really stuck with him.”

She smiles, taking in a deep breath, “That would make this the only class he talks in.”

“Well, progress is progress. One class is better than none, talking with one classmate is better than no one.” She looks down at the paper, trying to force herself to be happy. “Mrs. Alexander. Darren is a great kid. He’s not the most talkative, but he’s getting there. I don’t want to force him to talk if it’s not something he’s comfortable with, but anything you want me to do, you know I’ll do it.”

“He likes to draw,” she says, starting to shuffle through her bag. “He loves talking about his drawings, too.”

“So do you think if I had him draw more in class, work that into my lessons for him, that he would be more open to talking?”

“He might. It’s worth a try if you can,” she say, slipping a piece of paper across the desk. It was a self portrait of him, your classroom in the background. Nolan was sitting next to him, doing the experiment from the other week. “He came home that day, went to his room, drew this, and then told me in detail about class. I’ve never seen him so excited about this before.”

You stare at the detail of the drawing in awe, from the dimples on Darren, the bubbles in the Erlenmeyer while it was heating, right down to Nolan’s rosy cheeks. “This is incredible.”

“He wanted me to have you give it to Nolan, if you could.”

The principal comes over the speakers again to have parents move to the next class they were going to, you now waiting for one of your CP student’s parents to arrive. “I will. Thank you, Mrs. Alexander”

Both of you get up from the table, walking over to the door. “No, thank you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

The rest of the parent-teacher conferences go by in a blur, you not focusing on anything other than the memory of Nolan and Darren working together. You did secretly love parent-teacher conferences, as late as they were, because it helped you get to know the student’s family background just a little bit more. A teacher is only good if they know their students, a student will only trust their teacher if they know them. You lived by that statement.

By the end of the night, you were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to change into a pair of sweats and curl up in bed until you passed out for the night. You were about to call Nolan to ask him if you could stop by for a minute to give him the picture Darren drew of him when Lindsey’s name popped up instead. “Hey, Linds, I’m driving home from school,” you preface as you start your car, “What’s up?”

“Mind if I stop by and hang out for a bit?” she asks, you hearing Fran yell something you couldn’t make out in the background.

“Sure. Maddy’s home, too, tonight, I think. So if I pass out, you’ll still have her unless she also passes out.”

You didn’t think anything of it, pulling up to your apartment as Lindsey did, too, Fran stepping out of the car and before you could.

“Hey,” you call to her, watching Fran run over to Nolan and Kevin’s door, a dress and heels on, her hair and makeup done perfectly. “Where’s she going?”

"Uh," Lindsey stammers, not sure what to tell you. "A date."

Before you can question it, Nolan opens the door, kissing Fran, taking her hand and leading her over to his car. You stood there, frozen, surprised that Fran had gone further than she did at Howl the other night, watching as Nolan and Fran drive away to go out on a date.

[secretshinigami]

making the most of it

Author: @realtruesuccessor For: @yagami-raito-kun Pairings/Characters: Near | Nate River/Yagami Light, background Linda/Matsuda, Near | Nate River, Yagami Light, Linda (Death Note), Matsuda Touta, Watari Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, just typical superhero/action movie stuff Prompt: Near is a superhero, Light is a supervillain, they get set up on a blind double date and have to roll with it to protect their secret identities Author’s notes: This was super fun to write! Thank you for the amazing prompt! I hope this is what you were looking for, and that you enjoy it!

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Nate River had never given much thought to the idea of romance. He had experienced fleeting crushes in the past, but never any serious feelings, and he had never even been kissed at the ripe old age of eighteen. There were much more pressing issues in his life besides the lack of social milestones, so Nate wasn’t too concerned about his deficits in romantic experience. 

  Unfortunately, his roommate Linda did not have the same opinion. 

  “You’re going to die alone if you keep this up.”

  Nate looked up from the small toy robot that had been occupying his attention before Linda opened her mouth. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  Linda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen you go on a date,” she said, as if that clarified anything. 

  “So?”

  “So, you’ll end up alone and unhappy unless you find yourself a nice man.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow, and he lifted his hand to curl a finger around a strand of wavy white hair. “You’re making an awful lot of bold assumptions.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  Nate paused, took a moment to consider the brief crushes he had in the past, and then admitted a small concession. “Not about my preference for men, but about my impending lonely fate? That remains to be seen.”

  Linda approached Nate’s spot on the floor, where he was surrounded by tiny action figures. She sat down next to him, and picked up a small gray object from the circle of toys around him. “I’m worried about you, Nate,” she explained. “You’re always holed up in your room, messing around with these toys, but I think you should get out more and I have the perfect idea to help with that.”

  Eyeing the object in her hand, Nate uncurled his finger from his hair. He reached over and plucked the tiny gray circle from her grasp, then stuffed the item into his pocket. “Your concern is noted,” he said, perhaps a bit too sharp. “Unfortunately for you, I disagree.”

  “Can you hear me out, at least?” 

  “You’ve given me no compelling reason to do that, so the answer is no. Please leave me alone.”

  Silence rang throughout the apartment, echoing with the sting of Linda’s hurt feelings. Nate didn’t feel sorry in the least; in fact, he felt entirely justified. After all, Linda had barged into his room and insulted his lifestyle. He was in the right to be short and snappy with her.

Nate watched impassively as Linda’s face fell. His roommate’s usually bright smile turned into a sullen frown, and her blue eyes became downcast. If Nate had been a different sort of person, he might have been moved by this display, but as it was, Linda’s wounded emotions did nothing to stir his heart or change his mind. 

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” Linda muttered, her voice small and hurt.

  “I have no idea why you’re suddenly so invested in my romantic life, but whatever your reasons, you brought this on yourself by disparaging my hobbies.”

  “Okay, okay, I guess you’re right. I should have gone about this in a different way.”

  “Yes, you should have, but there’s no changing the past and no use lingering on this topic anymore. Weren’t you leaving?”

  With a heavy sigh, Linda got up and left Nate to his own devices.

  ~

  The city was dark at night, lit only by the occasional street lamp.

  “Where is the tracker now, Watari?”

  Near made his way through the gloomy city streets, dodging the warm circles of light cast by the lampposts. He stuck to dark, shadowy corners like glue, crouching behind parked cars and navigating narrow alleyways. 

  A voice crackled over the communication device in Near’s ear. “One block away, Near,” Watari said. “The location is pinging from that abandoned grocery store on the corner.”

  As Near approached the store, he tugged his dark cowl down over his hair and eyes, shielding them from view. The streets were mostly empty, but he didn’t want to risk being identified, even by the vagrants who frequented this part of the city in the dead of night. After all, his white hair and gray eyes were rather distinctive. If Near ever let his guard down, it wouldn’t take a genius to eventually trace the actions of the vigilante Near back to the identity of one Nate River.

  “Alright, I’m standing in front of the store now.”

  “Yes, thank you. The tracker you placed on that nasty fellow is still pinging from inside that building.”

  “Hmm, I really do hope this doesn’t end in physical violence. You know how much I hate fighting.”

  “I’m aware of that, and I also know that you’ve had a very long night already, but at least Lidner will be pleased to hear that you were finally able to put some of her training to good use.”

  Near made a face. His mouth twisted into a displeased frown. “That’s not funny.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny, I’m being completely serious. She’ll love to hear that you fought off a villain with a stick.”

  “First of all, this isn’t exactly a stick. It’s a bō,” Near corrected. “Second of all, perhaps you’re correct. She seems to puff up with pride whenever I acknowledge her skills.”

  “Yes, people tend to do that when you pay them a compliment.”

  Ignoring Watari’s snark, Near began the task of sneaking into the dark building. He crept forward, towards the front of the store, keeping low to the ground. There wasn’t any light coming from the windows or the door, but Near had learned from experience that one could never be too careful when dealing with villains. The building seemed lifeless and empty from the outside, but there could be traps set inside - or even the villain himself, tracker and all. So, Near was sure to be stealthy as he peeked into the store from a low, dirty window.

  The interior of the old shop seemed to be exactly what Near had expected. Mostly empty, save for a few shelves, and thick layers of dust covering every visible surface. Clearly, the store hadn’t been active in many years. It was the perfect place for squatters to take refuge - or for mysterious villains to set up a hideout. 

  “Best entrance route?” Near asked, eyeing the door in the corner of the shop, which appeared to lead somewhere deeper into the building. If Near had to guess, he would say that the door probably led to some sort of old office or employee break room. The door was dark and heavy-looking, with a shiny silver knob that could have easily been rigged with a villainous trap. 

  “You mean, besides walking right through the front door?” Watari teased.

  “Watari, please, this is serious.”

  “Alright, alright, I understand, I’m searching for an aerial view now.”

  As Near waited for Watari’s next message, he took another look around the interior of the store. None of the dust seemed to be disturbed; the floor and the shelves all appeared to be completely untouched by human feet or hands, at least for the past few months. 

  Still, Near considered, the room could be monitored with hidden cameras and microphones. Best that I don’t use the main entrance unless there’s no other option.

  “According to the aerial view, there’s a skylight towards the back of the building,” Watari announced. 

  Near frowned, and reached up to rub a strand of his own white hair between two fingers. “I don’t see a skylight from my current location, so the skylight must lead into the back room of the store. I can skip the main shop area entirely.”

  “Well, that works out nicely.”

  About fifteen minutes later, Near found himself on top of the roof, breathing heavily from exertion. “I’m never doing that again,” he managed in between gulps of air. 

  “Never say never, Near.”

  After catching his breath, Near approached the skylight and peered through it. The bright moon illuminated the room beneath the glass, casting everything in a soft white glow. Through the skylight, Near could see the back room of the shop, which appeared mostly empty, save for a wooden desk. 

  “I’m entering the building now,” Near said, reaching to unlatch the skylight.

  “Wait, Near!” Watari cried out, at the exact same time an unfamiliar voice whispered: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Near whipped around, bringing up his bō staff in a fluid motion.

  A masked man stood before Near, with his gloved hands raised in mock surrender. 

  “Who are you?” Near asked, his tone dark and serious. 

  The man smirked, then nodded to one of his hands. A familiar, small gray object rested between the fingers of his red leather-covered hand. 

  The tracker.

  “Shit,” Near muttered under his breath.

  “Looking for this?” The man asked, sounding carefree and quite pleased with himself. His voice was slightly deeper than Near had imagined, but it suited him just the same.

  On impulse, Near jabbed at the mysterious villain with his staff.

  As though he moved through the shadows, the man expertly evaded Near’s attack. He dodged, twisted, and kicked out. His dark boot landed in the center of Near’s chest, pushing the hero back. 

  Near stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. His ankle hit something behind him, probably a ledge of some kind, and suddenly, he was falling. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the world warped around him. 

  Like something out of a movie, Near found himself falling in slow motion - legs bending, glass cracking from somewhere behind him, his body descending further and further into darkness. 

  Before Near could even process what was happening, the villain turned away. His silhouette was illuminated by the bright backdrop of the moon. He glanced over his shoulder as Near fell through the skylight. His brown eyes sparkled with the dual flickers of triumph and pride.

  The villain’s smug grin was the last thing Near saw before darkness enveloped him completely. 

  ~

  “I can’t believe you finally roped me into this nonsense,” Nate River said. 

  Linda and Nate sat on a bench together, as the sky darkened and the air became thin and cold. She wore a coat and a light scarf over her dress, while he was dressed in only a collared button-up shirt and comfortable pants. The bright yellow bulbs from the nearby carnival casted the two roommates in a soft glow. Despite the warm light, Nate shivered, and Linda looked around frantically; her foot was tapping incessantly against the hard concrete of the sidewalk. 

  “Yes, well, this nonsense is going to do wonders for your social life, if those silly boys ever show up,” Linda said, glancing down at her phone with a frown. 

  Nate rolled his eyes. “First of all, my social life is perfectly satisfying as it is, thank you very much. Second of all, I’m sure they’ll be here any minute now.”

  “I guess you’re right about that second thing,” Linda conceded, pointing towards a pair of young Japanese men who were quickly approaching their bench. “And we’ve already been over the first thing.”

  The two men arrived at their bench, and Nate got a good look at both of them for the first time. One of the men, whom Linda greeted as ‘Matsuda’, had dark hair and big brown eyes that suited his handsome face and gentle expression. The other man was introduced as Light Yagami, a close friend of Matsuda’s and a fellow Japanese exchange student. Light’s hair was significantly lighter than Matsuda’s, and although his eyes were a similar shade of brown, his gaze spoke of a sharp intelligence that far exceeded his bumbling friend.

  Nate knew those eyes.

  That attractive pair of brown eyes had smirked at him, only a few nights ago, on a moon-drenched rooftop.

  “Light Yagami, was it?” Nate clarified, his eyes traveling over every inch of Light’s pretty face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  After a beat, Light smiled at Nate. His smile was polite, but had an air of deceptive falseness about it. There was something lurking underneath the surface of that mask - some dark and dangerous secret that only Nate could truly see. 

  “It’s a pleasure to see you too, Nate,” Light said. His voice was familiar to Nate, just as deep and attractive as Nate remembered.

  Unlike Matsuda, Light spoke English with a near-perfect American accent. 

  As Linda pulled Matsuda towards the carnival, Nate fell into step beside Light. The pair of them walked in silence for a bit, each of them calmly observing their surroundings. Nate noticed that the lights from the carnival complimented Light’s warm brown hair very well; his pretty locks seemed almost golden under the electric buzz of the soft outdoor string lights. Not even Linda’s incessant babbling could distract Nate from his careful observation of Light Yagami’s lustrous hair.

  Suddenly, Light tore his gaze away from a crowd of people near the food vendors. As the group he had been watching moved on, Light turned his head to face Nate and looked at him - truly looked at him - for the first time. 

  “Are you cold, Nate?” Light asked, glancing down at Nate’s chest. 

  Nate could see that Light’s preppy jacket protected him from the slight chill of the night air. After all, Light wasn’t shivering at all, whereas Nate couldn’t help but tremble at the brush of a breeze against his pale skin. He really, really couldn’t help it - he had always been sensitive to temperature changes, ever since he was a young child. It wasn’t a particularly debilitating condition, but it could sometimes be annoying. 

  Such as, right now.

  Nate’s brain was suddenly filled with images of Light offering him his jacket, like a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie from the 1980s. 

  “No,” Nate said, like a liar. “I’m not cold.”

  “If you insist. In that case, perhaps you’re simply eager for this double date to be over with, so you can go home?”

  Nate raised an eyebrow, suddenly very thankful that Linda and Matsuda had moved out of earshot. “That’s awfully observant of you.”

  Light shook his head, and a small smile crept onto his face. “No, I’m just projecting a bit, I think.”

  “Ah, I see. So, you don’t want to be here either.”

  “That’s correct. Matsuda wanted me to come along though, and I had no good reason to say no. If I had alternate plans, trust me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place.”

  “You couldn’t have said that you were studying, or something like that?”

  Once again, Light shook his head. He glared at a flimsy-looking carnival ride. “Matsuda is my roommate, and one of my oldest friends from back home in Japan. We also share many classes together, and he knows my schedule almost as well as he knows his own. He knows I don’t have any exams or major assignments coming up anytime soon.”

  “Hmm, I see, that must be difficult.”

  Light nodded. 

  A moment of awkward silence stretched between them, before Light broke the silence with a question.

  “And what about you, Nate? Why are you really here, if you’re not actually interested in dating?”

  “Similarly to yourself, I was compelled by my roommate to attend this little meeting. She made it clear that Mr. Matsuda wanted to go on a date with her, but he insisted on a double date, and so she needed me to step in and serve that role.”

  “That makes sense,” Light said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Matsuda has always been anxious about romance and relationships with women, so he thought more company might take the edge off of his nervousness.”

  Nate glanced over at Linda and Matsuda, who were standing a few booths away, at one of the carnival games. Through the crowd of happy fairgoers, Nate could clearly see the wide smile on Linda’s face. Matsuda said something to her, and she threw her head back and laughed with abandon. Nate recalled Linda’s pleading face from earlier, when she had practically begged Nate to go on the date with her, and her appearance now was certainly a stark contrast to that face.

  Unable to stop the small smile from creeping onto his face, Nate turned away from Light. “Well, they seem to be having fun, so I suppose this night isn’t a complete waste of time.”

  Light nodded, eyeing one of the nearby game booths. “Perhaps we can have some fun as well?” He asked, gesturing to the booth.

  “You can’t be serious. I thought you didn’t want to be here.”

  “True, I’d love to just go home right now, but I can’t without letting my roommate down, so I might as well make the most of this night, right?”

  “I suppose you have a point.”

  With that, Nate and Light approached the game booth.

  Ten minutes later, Nate was holding a giant fluffy white bunny - a stuffed animal that Light had won at the silly dart game. 

  Nate frowned, staring down at the offending rabbit. “You’re better than me at darts,” he grumbled.

  Light chuckled. “No, I think I just got lucky,” he said, looking at Nate with a curious expression on his face. “Regardless, I hope you like it. Are you going to give it a name?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” Nate said. He stared at Light’s face, observing the other man with a careful attention to detail. “His name is Kira.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Oh? You figured that out rather quickly, didn’t you?” 

  Nate nodded, then glanced away. Light’s expression and words told him everything that he needed to know.

  “And? What are you going to do with Kira, now that you have him?” Light asked, his voice laced with double meaning.

  Scoffing, Nate hugged the bunny closer to his chest, and continued to avoid Light’s gaze. “I’ll turn him over to the proper authorities, of course.”

  It was Light’s turn to scoff. “You won’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Kira is helping society, and also, you’re wildly attracted to me.”

  Nate almost dropped the stuffed rabbit. He turned towards Light, and a soft pink blush spread across his cheeks. His eyes went wide.

  “Kira kills people,” Nate managed, cursing himself.

  “Only rotten people,” Light corrected. “This world is rotten, but Kira is making it better, so good people can live happy and peaceful lives.”

  Nate shook his head. “Murdering a few corrupt politicians and businessmen isn’t going to magically make the system just or right. All it does is make Kira a murderer.”

  “Hmm, well, if Kira is simply a murderer and a villain in your eyes, what about that vigilante? Near, wasn’t it?”

  “Near doesn’t kill people.”

  “Yet, the police are still hunting him with the same energy that they use to hunt Kira. Isn’t that interesting? I imagine they’d be grateful to receive any hint of Near’s true identity, no matter the source of the information.”

  Well, that was a threat.

  At that exact moment, Linda rushed up to them, holding a plate full of funnel cake. “Come on, guys, Matsu bought me this cake and I can’t eat it all on my own! Share it with me!” 

  Nate looked from the cake, to Light, and then back to the cake. After a moment of hesitation, he reached up and grabbed a small piece of fried dough from the plate. He held the piece up towards Light’s lips. 

  “Here,” Nate prompted. “Have you ever tried funnel cake before?”

  Light’s eyes widened, and he stared at Nate in disbelief. “No, I haven’t,” he admitted, shocked and quiet. 

  Nate held the cake up a little closer to Light’s face, and Light leaned forward slightly, meeting him halfway. When Light took the cake into his mouth, his lips brushed lightly over Nate’s fingers. The lips were warm, and felt almost electric against Nate’s skin. Nate resisted the urge to shiver. Something deep and primal was stirring inside of him, something that he couldn’t really place, but certainly didn’t feel familiar. 

  Something that made him want to be closer to Light Yagami, despite the knowledge of his date’s true identity. 

  From that point onwards, the date proceeded normally for the most part. Nate and Light attempted to act naturally around Linda and Matsuda, saving all double-life talk for later. After all, neither of them wanted to duke it out in front of their roommates, or the dozens of other citizens strolling around nearby. So, they made more polite conversation as Linda and Matsuda dragged them around to different booths and rides.

  Finally, the night seemed to be reaching an end. Linda and Matsuda had snuck off somewhere, presumably to say goodbye to each other properly before parting ways. Nate and Light were left alone, near an empty patch of grass. 

  An awkward silence hung between them, not for the first time that night. Nate wasn’t exactly sure what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He couldn’t exactly leave the carnival and go turn Light over to the police - for one, he didn’t have any physical or concrete evidence that Light was the villain known as Kira, and perhaps even more concerning, Light had vaguely threatened to out him to the cops if he was ever caught. All of which put Nate in a very uncertain position: he knew the identity of the villain Kira, but wasn’t in any position to do anything about it.

  Light cleared his throat, which drew Nate’s attention. When Nate glanced over, he saw that Light was staring at him with another odd expression on his face, a look that Nate couldn’t really identify. 

  “What?” Nate asked, shifting uncomfortably, and clutching the stuffed bunny tighter against his chest.

  “I--”

  Whatever Light had begun to say was cut off with a sharp BANG! 

  Nate nearly jumped out of his own skin. His upper body grew very tense, very quickly, and he shuffled closer to Light. 

  On what must have been some kind of protective instinct, Light reached out and put his arm around Nate’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” Light said, suddenly calm and soothing. “It’s just the fireworks.”

  “Fireworks? Linda didn’t say there would be fireworks.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know? I take it you’re not a fan of loud, sudden noises, huh?”

  Nate shook his head. “I’m not a fan of them in the best of times, and these happen to be the worst of times, so you can only imagine how I feel in this moment.”

  Light winced, and pulled his arm away. Nate found, quite strangely, that he missed the subtle warmth and pressure of Light’s hand on his body, even though it had only been there for a short while.

  “I want to apologize,” Light said softly, barely audible over the continued explosions from the fireworks. 

  “For what?” Nate asked, genuinely confused.

  “For your tumble through the skylight. I know you seem to be fine now, but I’m sure falling through a window and landing on a hard floor hurts like hell at first.”

  Nate blinked. “Yes, it does. And no, I don’t accept your apology, because I don’t believe you’re actually sorry for what you’ve done, or for what you continue to do.”

  Light didn’t respond to that, only gazing at Nate in an impressed silence.

  Suddenly, Linda and Matsuda reappeared, both of them pink-cheeked and out of breath. Before Nate and Light could say much more to each other, they’re both pulled away by their respective roommates, pulled apart, and brought home.

  ~

  At home, in the quiet and darkness of his room, Nate felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. 

  A sudden buzz lit up his phone, and he glanced down without thinking - only to see a text from an unknown number splashed across his screen. He read the message silently, and then smiled softly to himself. 

  Nate knew that he would eventually be the one to bring Light Yagami to justice, regardless of the cost to himself. But he still had to gather evidence to prove his case, and in the meantime, well...why not have some fun and make the most of it?

[armysantiny]

Callous - CYJ

Pairing: Yeonjun x female reader || TXT

Genre: angst

Includes: college au, exes to strangers, break up, fashion major Yeonjun, performing arts major reader, regret, naps, Xiaojun (WayV) mention, Wooyoung (Ateez) mention, Changbin (Stray Kids) mention, Wooyoung x Changbin reference, swearing, venting, alcohol mention, trip to London

Word count: 2.56k

Warning: anxiety attack, anxiety, breakup, venting, swearing, alcohol mention lmk if I need to add any more!

Rating: 12

Networks: @kwritersworld​, @kdiarynet​, @kpopscape​, @ultkpopnetwork​, @kpopficsnetwork​, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub​, @k-dinernet​, @lovesick-net​, @whipped-kpop-creators​, @prism-nw​, @hybenet​, @k-library​, @moacabinet​

Tagging: @intokook​, @cherry-hyejin​, @sinchoi​ || Fic Taglist

Prompts: “you know damn well we meant something” || “Don’t leave me here.”

An: Prompts are from the @ficscafe​ dialogue prompt event!

They say time heals all wounds, but for Yeonjun, it seemed as though he was the bitter exception. Months after he had split off from his relationship with y/n, the wound in his heart was as fresh as ever. And who could he blame? He started the argument, he brought up her past trauma, he blamed her for things she had no control over. No wonder she wanted out so badly. But if time didn’t heal the wound in his heart, it definitely gave him perspective. A perspective into his own reckless behaviour. However, the end of term-break was nearing, and he’d be forced to face y/n - and the aftermath - again. 

Sighing as he watched the time tick forward inch by inch, Yeonjun tried focusing on eating breakfast, ignoring the reminder in his head that he’d be in the same class as his ex-girlfriend again. Perhaps Professor Chae would have mercy and not put their seating places beside each other. His phone going off as he finished the last of his cereal, Yeonjun picked it up, rolling his eyes as his best friend’s message.

Wooyoung: Hey, do you think I’ll get any confessions this term?

Yeonjun: Dude, you get a new confession like, every other week, why are you even asking?

Wooyoung: Oh yeah~ you’re right!

Yeonjun: Don't you have a boyfriend though? Where’s Changbin? Say hi to him for me

Wooyoung: He doesn’t have class until 10:30 :( 

Wooyoung: Hey! You have his number too! Say hi yourself!

Yeonjun: Ehh, can’t be asked. See you later.

Wooyoung: Uh huh love you too - bye!

Bag slung over his shoulder, outfit complete, a water bottle in his bag and he was ready; now all he had to do was to brave actually going out of his apartment and to his first class of the day. But his thoughts were being less than kind to him, and Yeonjun could feel his heart start to palpitate. Patting his chest repeatedly as he tried to steady his own breathing, the 21-year-old took to heading back inside to his living room, where he sat down and tried dealing with the oncoming wave of anxiety and panic.

Yeonjun hadn’t heard the knock at his door, nor had he heard when the passcode had been entered, a concerned Wooyoung walking through the door. “Yeonjun…? Junie? Choi Yeonjun where are-,” Stopping in his tracks when he walked in on his best friend crouched behind one end of the sofa, out of sight. “Yeonjun-ah, it’s me…”

“Oh - Wooyoung, I- how, how did you get in?” The fellow 21-year-old asked, finally aware enough to realise that Wooyoung was in his apartment, kneeling down beside him. Looking over, the vulnerability was raw, and entirely out on display. And Wooyoung’s gentle smile provided a sense of warmth and familiarity, no matter how small that feeling was.

“You still haven’t changed it since you told me. Anyway- that’s not too important; let’s get you feeling better hmm? I’m not the emotional support friend for nothing you know~.” Wooyoung hummed, taking Yeonjun’s hand into his own. Starting with a short breathing exercise, the dance major got Yeonjun to relax, asking him to describe the items in his room; starting with five things he could see, going down consecutively until they had gone through each of his senses. And it had started to work; Yeonjun’s heart didn’t feel like it was beating out of his chest, everything had become clearer - the crushing in his chest going away. Taking a few more stable breaths, Yeonjun’s body relaxed as he slowly stood up, Wooyoung standing up soon afterwards.

“That...that was rough. Thanks Woo.”

“No problem Jun, it’s what I’m here for.”

Arriving in class but five minutes late, Yeonjun tried concentrating on the presentation in front of him, making notes every so often as his professor explained the lesson. Everything felt normal, perhaps even too normal. But normal was better than nothing, and it seemed like the fashion major wouldn’t be facing y/n at school for the time being. Busy with his notes as he adjusted his glasses, the universe must have counted him lucky as he didn’t see who entered the lecture hall to talk to the professor. When he finally looked up from his notebook, his eyes widened before he immediately went back to staring at his notes, in hopes that y/n didn’t notice him on her way out. 

But she did notice him. She did notice him sitting in his seat as she left. When did he change professors? Remaining by the door as she closed it behind her, the performing arts major blinked back memories before she made her way back to class; class was more important than an old relationship gone sour. Walking back into the hallspace that was the location of her class, tried refocusing as she joined her group of friends as they watched some of the improv performances after speaking to her own professor.

“Well? What did Mr Kim say? Are we going to be working with the fashion majors for the end of year performance?” Dejun asked, leaning over to whisper while they watched their classmates. 

“Oh? Yeah, yeah, Mr Kim said Mr Song will be ‘lending’ his students to us,” Y/n replied, air quotes as she spoke, “ I don’t know about you Xiaojun, but doesn’t ‘lending’ sound kinda off?” She asked, an amused grin on her face as she went over the wording one more time. Taking a moment to realise what about it was so amusing, he snickered when the correlation finally clicked. The pair exhaled rapidly to try and drown the laughter, they covered their mouths with their hands once their professor glared in their direction.

“Well; looks like we got caught~ but yeah - are they products to him or something?”

“We may never know Xiaojun, we may never know~.”

As class finished up, y/n grabbed her bag and headed out, waving to Dejun and her friends as she made her way into the hallway. Earbuds plugged in, she kept her hands in her pocket as she aimlessly wandered through campus, humming along to the song playing as she found herself walking towards the courtyard. Without any other classes until that afternoon, there was plenty of time to sneak in a nap while she listened to her true crime podcast. Finding a bench off in the corner, the second-year student let her mind rest as she placed her coat along the bench and laid her head on her bag.

As luck would have it, Yeonjun’s timetable had more or less the same timings as y/n’s, and he had also been looking for a quiet place to rest. Class had gone well after seeing y/n, and the book he had been reading was just getting to the good part. Finding a bench that wasn’t too far away from y/n - he didn’t intentionally sit close by, but life is never predictable - he took a seat, opening the book and continuing with the tale in his hands. His reactions muted as to not draw much outward attention to himself, the bout of uncontrollable snickers ended up waking and getting the attention of the only other student in the courtyard. Looking up from his book when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, the nervous palpitations of his heart started again when he recognised who he was sharing the courtyard space with.

“Hey-! Can, can I talk to you? Please…” Y/n was seconds from heading out of the courtyard when she heard Yeonjun’s voice, turning around for a brief moment before sighing. After the way he treated their break up, she was certain that there would be no way she’d want to see him again by choice. Rolling her eyes, she turned back towards the direction of the hallway, only to be stopped by a hand holding onto her wrist; holding onto her as though she was an uncertain dream. One that would fade away if not given the chance to confront it.

“Choi Yeonjun, I thought I made it clear that I don’t want you to speak to me again. Is it that hard to stick to?” 

“I know y/n - and I’m sorry - but I’ve been beating myself up over this and I need to apologise. Apologise to you properly.” He was desperate, desperate to set things right and try to regain some level of contact with y/n. Yeonjun would be a dirty liar if he tried telling himself that even after all he had put his ex girlfriend through, he didn’t want to try becoming closer, at least platonically. But the feeling wasn’t mutual. Y/n wanted nothing to do with her ex; he’d hurt her too much, and despite the memories they shared, she could see nothing but the man who used the insecurities she trusted him with against her. He was a chapter in her past she wanted to separate herself from, to never look at again.Y/n said nothing as she pried his hand off of her wrist, a hard glare in her eyes as she left Yeonjun alone in the courtyard. Staring at his hands as though they were red with blood, his thoughts spiralled, exactly one being voiced out through a whisper, only for Yeonjun’s ears but meant for y/n.

“Don’t leave me here, don’t leave me clasping at straws y/n…”

“Wait, wait, wait - Yeonjun was in the courtyard?” Xiaojun’s voice called out from y/n’s phone late that afternoon, well after all classes were long over. They had been talking for the last ten minutes, and the topic of what had happened had just been brought up. From his side of the call, Xiaojun saved his assignment - of which he was already ahead in - and leaned back in his chair. He had been there for y/n when the breakup happened, spent days comforting his long-term close friend, and had some choice opinions of his own when it came to the fellow 99-liner. 

“Yeah! I think he was reading a book or something, but I didn’t see it. Anyway - my point; this bastard actually wanted to talk to me. He grabbed my fucking wrist and everything; something about wanting to ‘apologise’.” Y/n answered, her phone on speaker as she set about making herself a hot chocolate. She’d get to her research assignment after telling her best friend what had happened. First order of business? Getting herself a drink.

“Wow…” Dejun started, the disbelief loud, “after the crap he put you through, it took him this long to want to apologise?” He asked, putting his own phone on speaker as he stood out of his chair to get a water bottle. The conversation stayed like that for the next half an hour; both talking about one topic after another, all seeming to revolve around y/n’s painful break up. It had been less than a week after y/n’s birthday when Yeonjun had decided that he wanted to end their two-year relationship, a fake cold exterior as he left her alone in the silence of her own apartment that night. Y/n never went to sleep afterwards, burying herself in work as she let the tears fall down her face freely, only praying that the end of the year could come any faster. Each day had dragged on at a snail’s pace though, each hour feeling three times as long as she tried avoiding the cause of her pain. It was those six weeks before her second year in university that she found her mercy, going on a three-week trip to London with Xiaojun and a couple others in their friendship circle. Tears were shed, alcohol was consumed and heart-to-hearts were had. By the time y/n had returned to Seoul, she was on track to healing the wound in her heart.

 At the end of their mini venting session, the question that was really hanging in the air was whether y/n should even bother hearing Yeonjun out. But it seemed as though fate was eavesdropping on the pair’s conversation, because a knock at the door after y/n had hung up on her phone call immediately grabbed her attention. There was no way Xiaojun could have been at the door, otherwise the university student would have heard it across the call. Walking up to the door with a minute sense of apprehension, y/n looked through the peephole and audibly groaned. Massaging her temples out of frustration, she opened the door, arms folded as she stared him dead in the eye.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have your own mess of an apartment to get to?” She questioned, watching her ex walk in with a raised brow.

“I told you, I needed to talk to you. Please y/n, just one last time, hear me out. I beg of you.” 

And despite her resentment, that’s what she did.

There was no level of regret or guilt that could describe just how apologetic Yeonjun was feeling as he spoke, each syllable a thorn on his tongue. He had avoided the glare in y/n’s expression as he tried explaining his point of view, but it was clear that it really was Yeonjun who had brought it upon himself. His actions, his callous behaviour led to where they were now; sat in y/n’s apartment while he desperately tried to repair a burned down bridge with nothing more than pretty words.

 Having forced herself to sit through Yeonjun’s failed attempts at winning some semblance of friendship, y/n stood up, not in any mood to hear his voice any more. “You know what the real issue is with you?”

“What, what  is it..?”

“You’re pathetically entitled.” Y/n started, looking everywhere but the man sitting on her sofa in front of her. “Two years, Yeonjun. Two fucking years and you decide to break up with me in front of my family while we were on video - humiliate me - and give me no reason. You erased me from your life even though you knew damn well we meant something.  And suddenly now you decide that ‘Oh, I need y/n back’?” 

“Y/n-ah, I’m - I’m sorry, I was a coward, I- I wanted an easy way out…” A ‘tch’ coming from y/n at his poor attempt at an excuse, she said nothing as she went to the apartment door and opened it.

“Get out. If I see you come to my door again Choi I will call the police.” His head hung low, Yeonjun complied; putting his shoes back on and walking out in shame. Flinching when he heard the slam of the door behind him, the broken man made the journey home by foot, too ashamed to feel the need to take the bus. 

From inside her apartment, y/n reached for her phone. She needed to spend the night somewhere else.

Y/n: Mind if I stay the night?

Dejun: No problem, you’ve already got some of your own stuff here.

Y/n: Thanks Jun

As she left her apartment, there was one question on her mind. One that put into question exactly how she had dealt with the situation;

She wasn’t being too callous with Yeonjun, was she?

[hoplessdreamer9796]

BTS 8th Member - All Grown Up; Part 1

The BTS members realise their Y/N is all grown up. Set in 2016 Y/N age is 20 internationally and 22 Korean age. She isn’t a billionaire yet but is still very wealthy.

Read “Your Friends” to read character info on all of your friends mentioned.

Haeje, meaning release, is the name of a club (made up), in this au the club makes everyone sign non-disclosure agreements before entering and also takes your phone away. Which is why it’s going to be the regular club for Y/N in this au.

A-Lounge is also a made up club but won’t be mentioned as a regular.

Y/N - Your Name N/N - Nick Name

(English conversation is written in bold) It was a lazy day for the guys. 6 of them were sat in the kitchen eating a late breakfast at around 11, both Yoongi and Y/N were still asleep. “Yah Jiminah, do you want to play join me and Jungkookie today? We’re gunna have a gaming marathon.” Taehyung asked swallowing his mouth full of rice. “I can for a while but not tonight. I’m hanging out with Eunhee tonight.” He replied a smug smile taking over his face. All of his friends simultaneously rolled their eyes. “I thought she wanted to stop seeing you.” Namjoon said. Jimin laughed, “I guess I’m just irresistible, she said she wanted to meet up and that she missed me.” Jin’s head whipped over to Jimin, “Yah! Don’t get involved with her again. That girl’s crazy.” Jimin pouted and replied defensively, “I’m not! I told her that I don’t want a relationship. She agreed.” Taehyung threw a grape at Jimin which he dodged, “So you’re just going to cancel on us for a girl? You used to have priorities!” Taehyung dramatically proclaimed. Jimin rolled his eyes at him, “No I’m ditching you guys for sex, have fun playing video games all night though, sounds fun.” Jimin said teasing so this time Jungkook threw a grape at him that hit him in the eye. To which Jimin clutched his eye, screamed and dropped to the floor making everyone laugh.

About ten minutes later Yoongi trudged into the kitchen. His face was puffy from sleep. He got a cup of coffee before sitting at the table. He chugs his entire cup of coffee then drinks some water. He banged his head on the table. All of his members chuckled at him to which he looked up and scowled at them. “Hyung how much did you sleep last night?” Hoseok asked half amused and half concerned. “11 hours.” Yoongi replied straight faced. Jin looked at him like he’s stupid, “11 hours! And you have the nerve to look tired. Wah!” Yoongi glared at him. “Hey! I am tired okay. And why are you shouting at me? Y/N went to sleep hours before I did and she’s still asleep.” Jin scowled at him. “Leave my princess out of this, she had meetings all day.” Jin said to Yoongi, pointing his chopsticks threateningly at him. Yoongi grumbles about clear favouritism and stuffs a big spoon of rice in his mouth.

10 minutes later Jungkook and Jin were bickering about who’s the dumbest when Y/N stumbled into the kitchen, clad in pyjama shorts and a tank top, and tugging a hoodie over her head. Still half asleep she bumps into the counter as she turns the kettle on, Jin having filled it up beforehand for her. She gets her mug down before placing a green tea bag in it then leans back onto the countertop. All while her eyes are still closed. She blindly fills the cup with water and sits down at the table next in between Namjoon and Jungkook. “One day you’re gunna burn yourself like that.” Hoseok said smiling at her fondly.

Y/N looked up at him finally properly opening her eyes. They were watery from sleep, her blue eyes looked sparking, her cheeks were puffy, and her lips were swollen which caused her naturally pouty lips to pout even more. “Aww!” Jimin, who was sitting next to Hoseok, cooed. His heart melted and he reached over the table to pinch her cheeks, she dodged his hands and looked at him weirdly before filling her plate with fruit. He pouted at her, “Yah! Accept my love!” Jimin whined. “I don’t want it.” Y/N mumbled voice still heavy with sleep. Jimin gasped and clutched his heart. “How could you do this to me? You used to love my affection. The money has changed you.” Y/N just looked at him and rubbed her eyes before laying her head on Namjoon’s shoulder and saying, “I never loved your affection.” Closing her eyes and ignoring Jimin’s gasp of betrayal that made a small smile tug at her lips. Jimin smiled seeing her smile.

Namjoon patted her hooded head affectionately before speaking, “Do you have any plans today?” Y/N raised her head and nodded, “Yes, meetings ‘til 7. Thankfully no morning meetings.” Jin grabbed her plate of fruit before she could take a bite from it making her look up at him confused. “If you have a full day, you’re going to eat a proper meal.” Jin instructed giving her bowls of rice and stew. Y/N scrunched up her face, “It’s too much for breakfast I’ll just eat more for lunch.” She said reaching for the fruit. Jin frowned at her and moved it further out of her reach and said to her, “We both know you’ll be too distracted by work to eat properly.” Y/N was about to object before Jin squinted his eyes at her, daring her to say he’s wrong. “Honestly N/N-ie what’s the point of you paying for a personal chef if you’re the only one that doesn’t eat her food?” Jin asked. Y/N looked at him shocked. “What? I always eat her food.” She proclaimed in a dramatic voice that had Jin rolling his eyes at her. “I’m just not a fan of stew in the morning.” Y/N muttered pouting before sullenly eating her food.

Jungkook perked up next to her, “Noona do you want to join me and Tae hyung playing video games tonight, we’re having an all-day marathon, we can play Mario cart.” Knowing that that’s his noona’s favourite game. Y/N ruffled his hair. “Sorry Jungkookah, after work I’m going to visit my parents.” Yoongi looked over at her curiously, “Why?” Y/N looked at him, “My Mum said that even though Hanuel and I live in Seoul she sees us less than our brothers who live in England.” She said rolling her eyes but smiling.

Everyone chuckled before Jimin looked at Y/N, “So are all of your brothers going? Are you staying over?” Jimin asked curiously but eyes shining in mischief. Y/N shot him a look of annoyance to which he smirked at. “I don’t know if any of my other brothers are going. Hanuel is staying over. And I’ll probably come back at really late tonight, me and my brother will probably have some drinks so I’ll wait till I can drive but I have meetings all day tomorrow and documents I need to go over, so I don’t want to sleep there.” Y/N replied, imagining pouring water over Jimin. “What is everyone else doing tonight?” Y/N asked changing topics. Jimin chuckled lowly shaking his head before drinking some water. Namjoon looked at him suspiciously for a moment before shaking it off.

Jin looked up and replied, “Well those two are playing games all day, and I think Namjoonah is going to the gallery today, but I think tonight all of us are hanging out at home except for Jiminah and you.” Y/N tilted her head and looked at Jimin. “Where are you going?” Jimin smiled, “I’m hanging out with Eunhee.” He said happily. Y/N smirked at him before holding out her fist, “Get it oppa.” Jimin reached over to return her fist bump but Hoseok reached over to push their hands down and said, “Stop. Don’t encourage him. And don’t say that ever again.” Y/N rolled her eyes and laughed. “Why? She’s hot. What’s the big deal?” Y/N asked. “Thank you! At least someone gets it. We’re not going out it’s just casual.” Jimin exclaimed. Y/N nodded, “Yeah it’s just sex, have fun. Just make sure you take your own condoms I’m pretty sure she’s the type of crazy to put holes in them to tie you down into raising a child. Bitch is psycho.” She could hear Jin clear his throat in disapproval at her words, but she ignored it. Jimin had a look of horror on his face before nodding vehemently in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. Ughhh! Why are the crazy ones always good in bed?” Jimin asked before puffing his cheeks out and resting his head in his hands in misery.

“Could you never say the words sex or condoms again? I want to throw up.” Yoongi said to Y/N with a grimace on his face. Y/N smirked and took a sip of her drink. “I agree my N/N-ie shouldn’t know words like that.” Seokjin said. Jimin let out a loud laugh which caused Y/N to glare at him. Namjoon squinted his eyes at them. What was he missing? Y/N noticed his look and internally panicked. She covered Jungkook’s ears, “We need to stop talking about these things in front of Jungkookie, he’s too pure to be corrupted by the likes of all of you!” She jokingly exclaimed hoping to distract Namjoon. Jungkook grabbed her wrists gently and lowered them pouting at her, “Noona, I’m not a child! I’ve done-I know about this stuff!” Jungkook whined. She just laughed at him and squished his cheeks together. “All right, I’m sorry.” Y/n said. Jimin glared at her, “Yah! This isn’t fair, why does Jungkookah get special treatment?” Jungkook grinned at him and stuck his tongue out. “Because I’m noona’s favourite.” Y/N flicked his forehead, “Yah! I have no favourites.” Y/N said finishing her tea. “Then give me a hug.” Jimin says pouting. Y/N grimaces, “No thanks oppa.” Taehyung laughs and hits Jimin’s shoulder while Jimin huffs.

Y/N’s phone pings with a text. She sighs tiredly, “It’s Sooah I have to get ready we’re leaving soon.” Y/N says grabbing her half empty dishes before standing up. Namjoon grabs her hand stopping her, “Can you drop me off at the art gallery on the way?” He asks. She smiles at him, “Yeah of course oppa, we’re leaving in half an hour.” He smiles at her. “I’ll meet you in the living room in 30 minutes.” Y/N nods at him and then grabs her half empty dishes washes them quickly and goes to leave the kitchen, before rushing back and grabbing the plate of fruit and smiling sheepishly at them before going to her room. Everyone chuckles at her actions. One by one they filter out of the room.

Later Y/N (dressed up in a pair of light blue high waisted loose Levi’s jeans, with a black leather belt and a black polar neck tucked in, hair in a low ponytail with strands framing her face) was finishing putting on her makeup (light foundation, orangy-reddish blush, subtle eyeshadow, mascara and red tinted lip balm) in her bathroom.

She saw Jimin approaching through the mirror and glared at him, “You’re such an arsehole oppa, you totally baited me out!” She pouted and Jimin laughed before wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her, “I’m sorry it’s just so funny how all of the guys are clueless to all of your sexcapades.” She leaned into his arms and put her mascara back in her makeup box. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on Jimin’s shoulder, he looked at her with worry. But then she got a hold of herself and gently stepped out of his arms before leaning against the counter to face him. She sighed in disappointment, “It’s necessary, I mean Yoongi oppa literally almost threw up after I said the word condom.” Jimin laughed half-heartedly, feeling sorry for his dongsaeng, before nodding. “Don’t worry N/N-ie I won’t tell them.” She laughs at him, “I know you won’t. I’m your wingman.” Y/N says smirking at him.

Jimin looks at her with a worried frown, “You know I don’t care about you fucking around that’s your choice, I mean, I’d rather you not do it but it’s your choice. However, that being said please be careful N/N-ie, I still worry about you. So just be safe. You’re still going to the same hotel, right? You’ll watch your drink, right? Keep your location on okay?” Jimin questioned frantically. Y/N just laughed before cupping his face in her hands and then tapped his cheeks. “Owww!” He over exaggeratedly exclaimed and pouted at her. “Yes, yes and okay. Oppa I’ll be fine it’s not like this is my first time going out. Soomi and her boyfriend just broke up and we all wanted to take her to a club for some fun. So, you have fun with Eunhee tonight and I will have fun with Kyungseok.” She said smirking referring to her current friend with benefits and putting her makeup away.

“Okay, okay I’ll chill. Hey, are you guys going to Haeje?” Y/N shook her head, “No we’re going to some other club called A Lounge that Soomi’s ex hated. Apparently he would never let her go because people like them shouldn’t go there or some bullshit like that. Honestly boyfriends are such a pain in the arse, like why bother?” Jimin chuckled, “Because love is a beautiful thing?” Jimin asked sounding not so sure of himself. Y/N looked at him weirdly, “What have you been smoking? That’s somehow more stupid than what you usually say which is hard to accomplish.” Jimin looked offended and went to slap her arm but she ran past him, out of the bathroom, “Too slow!” She exclaimed grabbing the set of keys for Romeo, her black trench coat and her duffel bag, which contained her makeup and skincare, her party outfit and clothes for when she’ll leave the hotel and other necessities, running to the living room. Jimin chuckled running after her.

In the living room Taehyung and Jungkook are setting up there gaming area. A huge pile of snacks and mountains of blankets and pillows surrounding them. Namjoon was sat on the sofa on his phone, purposefully ignoring the mess, when Y/N ran in. “You ready oppa?” She asked. Namjoon nodded smiling. When Jimin ran in, Y/N yelped before throwing her bag and coat on the sofa and running away. She ran behind where Taehyung and Jungkook were standing, sorting out their games and being completely unbothered by the her and Jimin, they circled around them. Y/N hugged Taehyung’s waist, “Oppa save me!” Taehyung looked down at her and chuckled, “What will you do for me if I help you?” He asked, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “What do you want oppa?” She asked apprehensively. “Tell me you love me!” he exclaimed. “I love you.” She replied sarcastically. “No tell me sincerely.” He demanded. Y/N stared at him blankly for a moment before letting go and stepping out from behind him and looking to Jimin, “I surrender.” She said. “Yaaah!” Taehyung whined as Jimin grabbed Y/N before flicking her forehead. She pouted and rubbed her forehead. Taehyung scowled at her. “I can’t believe you’d rather be hit than tell me you love me properly. Really?” Taehyung asked exasperatedly, a disbelieving look on his face. Y/N just nodded, “Yeah.” Taehyung shouted in offense, putting a hand on his heart. Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook laughing at the situation.

Y/N’s phone pings. “Sooah’s losing her shit waiting for us. Let’s go oppa.” Y/N said putting her coat on and grabbing her bag. Namjoon grabs his bag, “Which car are you driving?” He asks Y/N quickly taking her bag from her, she smiles and thanks him putting on a random pair of her trainers from the shoe rack. “Romeo.” She said smiling with a loving tone. Namjoon rolled his eyes at her unhealthy adoration for her car. “Bye noona!” Jungkook shouts from the living room. “See you later Jungkookah!” Y/N replies as her and Namjoon exit the apartment.

Y/N and Namjoon are in the lift. Namjoon couldn’t stop fidgeting. He knew something was going on, he just didn’t know what. “Y/N you’d tell me if something was wrong right?” She knew he had caught onto Jimin’s behaviour and now really wanted to pour that water on Jimin. She smiled at him soothingly. “Of course, I would oppa.” Y/N felt kind of guilty for lying to him, but she didn’t have any other options, they’re so protective it’s suffocating.

As they reach the car park talking about random things, they hear Sooah shout, “Yah! I’ve been waiting down here for 15 minutes!” Y/N laughed at her, “That’s sounds like a you problem love.” You tapped her arm, gently took your bag from Namjoon and walked past her to Romeo. You placed your bag in back seat of your car.

Romeo is your 1970 dodge charger, painted a glossy black he was absolutely beautiful. Out of all your cars he is your favourite, despite your expensive super cars, this one is the one you’ve wanted since you were a child or more accurately ever since you watched Fast and Furious for the first time. As soon as you started making money you bought this car. Unfortunately, you’re only allowed to keep 2 cars at the apartment at a time as each apartment is allotted a certain amount of parking spaces. So, you keep your others at your private parking area at the company and alternate which ones are kept here. Except for Romeo. He always stays with you. If they ask you, you always let your friends and family borrow your cars, just not Romeo. No one drives him except for you.

Namjoon laughed at Sooah as her mouth gaped open and closed repeatedly as you walked past her to get to your baby. She glared playfully at him before walking over to the car. “I can sit in the back Sooahya.” Namjoon offered politely. She grinned at him, “It’s okay oppa, I want to be as far away from her as possible.” Y/N just smirked at her before cockily putting her shades on. Sooah rolled her eyes groaning at her best friends douchiness and got into the car. Y/N and Namjoon both chuckled at her and followed her actions.

Y/N sighed in relief once she got into her car. “Hello love. I missed you.” She said to Romeo gripping the steering wheel tightly, the feeling of the familiar leather wheel soothing her. Sooah moved her head in between yours and Namjoon’s seats, “You do know your precious Romeo can’t talk back right?” She questioned sarcastically. Y/N lowered her shades and glared at Sooah through the rear-view mirror, “Do you want to walk?” Sooah sighed in defeat and moved her head back. Namjoon chuckled at the both of them.

As they drove out of the car park Namjoon talked excitedly about all the new pieces of arriving in the gallery. Y/N hummed along responding when asked something. When they reached the gallery Y/N looked at Namjoon, “Oppa how do you plan on getting home?” Y/N asked Namjoon her head tilted. He paused midway through taking off his seatbelt and looked at her with wide eyes “Taxi?” He answered unsure. She chuckled at him and asked, “Do you want me to ask Sungmin oppa (her driver) to pick you up?” He nodded smiling sheepishly. “I’ll let him know just text me what time he should pick you up.” Namjoon nodded and grabbed his bag and looked at Y/N, “Thank you princess.” He said and kissed her cheek. She smiled at him, “No worries oppa.” He got out of the car, after saying goodbye to both of them and putting on his mask, and Sooah took his seat.

“Okay now he’s gone can we talk about tonight please?” Sooah asked. Y/N nodded grabbing chewing gum from the glove compartment, offering Sooah a piece, who shakes her head in denial, putting a couple of pieces in her mouth. “Great, because I need to talk to you about something.” She says. You raise an eyebrow at her. “Y/N you’re not allowed to leave the club until at least two hours after we get there or until Soomi leaves with someone.” Y/N looked at her offended, “What the hell? I wasn’t gunna leave.” Y/N said looking at Sooah. Sooah just looked at her incredulously. “So, you’re telling me your plan wasn’t to get drunk and leave with Kyungseok?” Y/N just looked at her for a moment then sighed, “Lucky guess.” Sooah looked unimpressed. Y/N looked at her, “Hey! What about Hangyeol? It’s not just me.” Y/n said pouting. Sooah nodded, “Daeho is giving him the same talk I’m giving you.” Sooah said.

Y/N dropped her shoulders sadly before perking up, “So if Soomi gets laid, I can get laid?” Sooah sighed in defeat and said, “Yes.” Y/N smirked deviously. Sooah looked at her in apprehension, “I know that look, I have nightmares about that look.” Y/N chuckled and unlocked her phone before tossing it to Sooah, “Call Hangy-” Y/N was saying before she was interrupted by her phone ringing. The caller id read Lee Hangyeol and Y/N smirked looking at Sooah smugly who rolled her eyes and answered the phone, “What?” Sooah spoke into the phone in an annoyed tone while Y/N laughed lowly at her.

“Y/N!” Sooah winced at Hangyeol’s outraged scream. “Aish!” Sooah muttered lowly before putting the phone on speaker while glaring at it. Y/N answered Hangyeol, “Hey what’s up?” Even though she knew exactly what he was going to say. “What’s up?! What’s up?! I’m pissed that’s what’s up. All I wanted to do tonight was to get smashed and then smash someone but nooooh!” Y/N laughed at his crude language while Sooah made a face of disgust at it. “You’re being an idiot there’s an easy solution, we help Soomi find a guy and then I can leave with Kyungseok and you can do all the smashing you want.” You said. Sooah whipped her head to you, glaring heavily. You pointedly ignored her glare and focused on the road. “Holy fuck, see N/N-ie this is what your genius should be used for.” He said. You laughed at him and partly at Sooah who literally face palmed. “Okay that’s it! You go fix cars! We have meetings to attend! After which I will find a religion and then pray for both of your souls because you’re both horrible people.” Sooah said. Y/N nodded, “I’m okay with it.” Hangyeol also replied, “I’m okay with it too.” Sooah glared, “I hate the both of you and now I’m hanging up.” Hangyeol laughed, “Okay I’ll see you guys at Soomi’s after work. Dinner’s on Daeho!” Y/N and Sooah could hear Daeho shouting in protest in the background, before saying goodbyes and ending the call.

Several Hours Later…

Y/N finishes her meetings at 7 and now her and Sooah were heading to the Ikon dorm to pick up Hanbin. They reach the dorm and Y/N texts Hanbin to come out. A few minutes later he leaves the building and gets into the car. “Did you tell her?” He asks Sooah skipping any greetings. Sooah nods looking up from her phone and says, “Yep.” Y/N faces Hanbin, “You bitch! You knew about this and didn’t give me a heads up.” Hanbin shrugged unapologetically, “Because I knew you’d find a way out of it and honestly it’s way funnier this way.” He laughs. Y/N glares at him through her shades but he doesn’t stop laughing. Y/N pouts petulantly and starts driving to Soomi’s apartment. Sooah puts her phone away and faces Hanbin, “Well it’s not like her and Hangyeol didn’t find a way.” Sooah says with an annoyed tone that makes Y/N roll her eyes behind her shades. Hanbin looks confused, “What?” Sooah jerks her thumb at Y/N, “The two of them are going to find Soomi a guy as quick as possible so they can fuck off.” Saphira briefly looks away from the road to face them and says, “Literally.” With a smug smile on her face.

Hanbin throws his head back against the seat groaning. “I knew you’d do this. Would it kill you to just maybe not think with your downstairs brain for once and have a good time with your friends?” Y/N tilted her head and then answered, “Why would I do that when thinking with my downstairs brain is so much more fun.”  Seeing the unimpressed looks she received in return she sighed in defeat. “Listen guys I’m not gunna force Soomi to get with some guy unless she wants to. And I’m not just gunna ditch early with Kyungseok, Soomi is the main priority. I want us all to have a good time and for her to feel better, so you guys need to chill.” They both relented and the car was silent for a moment before Y/N spoke again smirking, “But you know the best way for her to get over someone is to get under someone else.” “Y/N!” They both shouted Hanbin more amused while Sooah sounded appalled. Y/N just laughed, “Well it’s true.”

Later they arrived at Soomi’s and all had dinner which Daeho paid for grumbling about how even though 3 of his friends (Y/N, Hanbin and Soomi) are rich and famous he still has to pay for dinner. Then they all got ready and headed out at ten.  Y/N wore a spaghetti strapped black dress with small nude wedges as she was already tall. The brands were unknown to her as Hwayoung bought them. Your makeup was a Korean brown smoky eye with a red lip tint and your face was lightly contoured, highlighted and blushed. Your hair was straight and in a mid ponytail with strands framing your face.

Daeho was driving one car as he wouldn’t be drinking tonight, and Y/N was driving her car too as Sungmin would drive her car from the club and drop it off at what the hotel that she normally used for her hook ups. He has a spare key to all of her cars. He’d get her duffel bag that is in the trunk of her car and drop it off in her hotel room. The people that Y/N drove would all get cabs back, Daeho would make sure they did so safely. Kyungseok was meeting her at the club.

As they arrive at the club, they hear a voice shout, “Y/N!” Y/N smirks and turns towards the voice, smiling charmingly, “Oppa.” Kyungseok hugs you briefly before kissing your cheek. Y/N looks at all of her friends smugly, all of whom roll their eyes at her except for Hangyeol who gives her a thumbs up before Chungae slaps the back of his head.  

The 11 of them walk into A Lounge looking around. The club was not nearly as nice as Haeje. But Y/N knew that this was something Soomi felt she needed to do. They got a table and ordered drinks and loosened up.  Although Hanbin and Y/N were still careful as even though this club took your phone away, they didn’t make you sign non-disclosure agreements meaning people could still tell the press what they saw. They probably wouldn’t but she couldn’t risk it.

Y/N told Kyungseok she couldn’t be to touchy due to this. He grudgingly accepted and she inwardly rolled her eyes, he’s lucky he was hot. Y/N smirked at him before placing a hand on his thigh under the table raising it higher and higher until he grabbed her hand in alarm stopping her. He looked down at her, his eyes clouded in lust, but she just smiled teasingly at him and turned back to her friends and taking a sip of her whiskey while keeping her hand planted on his thigh squeezing it teasingly at random times, frustrating him to no end. He didn’t talk to her friends, he didn’t really care about them, he was only here for Y/N.

Hangyeol had managed to find a pretty girl to join him to no one’s surprise. Everyone was laughing and having a good time until Daehyun saw something. He nudged Y/N who was bickering with Hangyeol across the table over who finished their shots quicker. She looked at him in confusion before following his line of sight.

There was Soomi’s ex-boyfriend grinding on some random girl. “What should we do?” Daehyun asked. “Tell her!” Y/N whisper shouted. He looked at her incredulous and glared at her, “Why me?!” He whisper shouted back to her. Y/N glared at him and as they continued to bicker all of their friend’s attention soon drifted to them. Their friends all looked at each other curiously wondering what Y/N and Daehyun were bickering about. Hwayoung shouted at them in order to get their attention, “Hey!” They both snapped their heads over at her impatiently, “What?!” They both shouted simultaneously, Kyungseok looked up from his phone at the situation wondering what he missed. Hwayoung raised her eyebrow at them, “What the hell is wrong with you two?” They both glanced at each other nervously and then to Soomi and then back to each other. Y/N jerked her head towards Soomi gesturing to Daehyun that it was all his before downing her glass of whiskey. Daehyun scowled at her before looking back at their friends. He cleared his throat nervously. He looked at Soomi before glancing behind her pointedly. She looked at him confused before turning around.

Her eyes fell upon a random couple on the dance floor. Just as Soomi was about to turn back around and ask Daehyun why she was supposed to look at them she noticed something that made her breath catch. The male wore a dark blue dress shirt. There was nothing special about it except for the neon yellow embroidered smiley face on the cuff of the shirt. The shirt that she bought for him. The smiley face that Soomi embroidered in hopes that whenever he looked at it, he would smile thinking of her. The smiley face that she thought meant so much to them. The smiley face that was embroidered on the cuff of the hand that now rested on another girl’s waist. The girl that he insisted was just his friend. He looked just as handsome as always and she missed him but fuck she hated him. Is this why he never wanted her to come here? She could feel tears stinging her eyes.

Chungae reached her hand out and placed it on Soomi’s arm, “Soomiah?” She asked concerned. When Soomi turned back to her friends they saw her watery eyes. Hangyeol slammed his drink down and glared at Soomi’s ex-boyfriend. Going to stand up he growled, “I’ll kill the son of a bitch!” Daeho rolled his eyes at him, grabbing his arm he pulled him down, “You’re not killing anybody you idiot!” He said to Hangyeol.

Kyungmin ignored the two idiots now bickering and reached over to pat Soomi’s shoulder gently. “Do you want to leave?” He asked her gently. She nodded and her friends instantly started gathering their things. Y/N went to pay the tab despite Hanbin objecting. As Hanbin tried to reach around Y/N to pay she just slapped his hand and handed her card over sticking her tongue out at Hanbin who glared at her and tugged a strand of her hair. Daehyun was checking under the table to make sure no one left anything behind while Sooah was nagging him, telling him that no one forgot anything and that he was being stupid. Daeho and Hangyeol were now wrestling each other. Hwayoung was grabbing all of Soomi’s things before wordlessly carrying her bag smiling at her, Soomi smiled back in thanks. Chungae broke up both Hangyeol and Daeho by grabbing their ears, both of them shouting in pain. Kyungmin grabbed her coat and put it over her shoulders. She smiled at him and looked at all of her friends, a warm feeling replaced the anxiety, sadness, betrayal and anger at seeing her ex-boyfriend again. With friends like these she’d be fine.

As they were all walking out of the club, Kyungmin suddenly paused making Sooah pause too as his arm was over her shoulder. Y/N cursed at his abrupt pause as she was right behind him, Kyungseok’s arm over her shoulder. She glared at Kyungmin, “What the fuck man?” She asked, voice slightly muffled through her mask. He just smiled at her not offended and looked at Sooah. “We’re not letting this ruin tonight. You wanted to have a good time don’t let him ruin it.” He said to Sooah smiling warmly at her. Sooah bit her lip unsure. Y/N sighed, “I can call Haeje, get a table, I mean it’s only 11.”

Kyungseok looked at her upset, he honestly just wanted the two of them to go back to her hotel room. Y/N ignored him and focused on Soomi, “But only if you want?” She asked gently. Y/N stepped out of Kyungseok’s hold who frowned at the loss of contact. She held both of Soomi’s hands, “We can just as easily scrap this night, order a ton of food and have a movie marathon.” Soomi looked down at their joined hands for a moment before squeezing Y/N���s hands and smiling at her confidently. “No. I want to go. I don’t give a fuck about him. So, you’re gunna book that table at Haeje and we’re going to have a great time. And I’m going to get wasted, find a hot guy and have sex with him. Yep, that’s what I’m going to do” Soomi said. Her friends all cheered at her proclamation. Y/N kissed her cheek. “Yes ma’am.” She said smirking pulling out her phone and stepping away to call one of the people that worked at Haeje to get a table for them.

Kyungseok frowned and followed after her. He was horny and annoyed. All he wanted was to leave and have sex or at least get an ounce of Y/N’s attention. Don’t get him wrong this whole “friends with benefits” thing has been great for him. Y/N is hot and rich and famous. But there are downsides to it.

One of which is that she always puts everyone before him, they could have made plans to meet but as soon as one of her family, friends or her members call, she ditches him without second thought. Another downside is that he can’t tell anyone. She made him sign a non-disclosure agreement, which he did out of fear that he wouldn’t get to see her again if he didn’t. However, an unexpected downside was her lack of emotion towards him. Usually, it was the other way around for him. With every other girl he’d been with he was always the one being emotionally distant, he’d always be the one that blew them off at random times just because he could, with them he felt important. But with Y/N he just felt replaceable.

They call each other when they wanted sex and that was it. But she was busy most of the time so whenever he wanted to meet up most of the time it was a rain check. But when she called, he dropped everything and ran to her. It stung and he always felt rejected whenever she would nonchalantly turn him down. He wanted to say no to her just once, so she’d know what it felt like. He always told himself he would but then wondered if she’d even care or just seek out someone else. Out of fear that she would just replace him he always makes himself available for her.

Every time he sees her name flash on his screen, he can’t help but respond. He’s addicted to her. He knows that she’s bad for him, that she doesn’t care about his feelings and he’ll wake up to an empty bed in a cold hotel room but as long as he can have her for that one night he’ll gladly go through it all.

“Y/N! What the hell?! You said we wouldn’t be out for that long.” Kyungseok said to Y/N after she had gotten off the phone. Y/N looked at him expressionless. “My friend’s upset that’s more important than you getting your rocks off.” She said to him. He looked at her offended and angry, “Yah! That’s not what this is about. This is about how you alw-” He was cut off mid-sentence as she reached up and placed her lips on his. He instantly melted into the kiss, momentarily forgetting his anger and what he was going to say. But when he felt her smirk into the kiss smugly, he got angry again. He was going to pull back, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. The scent of her perfume made his heart flutter, the feel of her lips on his made his mind fuzzy and he knew she had won. He held onto her waist, pulled her closer and kissed her more urgently, intoxicated with her. When he darted his tongue out, she pulled back and smirked at him. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he had to hold back a groan, while his hands held her waist tighter. “Tonight, we can fuck all you want, but right now I couldn’t give less of a crap about the sex.” She said to him glancing at Soomi concernedly.

His eyes softened. He was so screwed. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that she was a horrible person, that she had no feelings, moments like these he could see the love and affection she reserved for those special to her. Seeing her like that made him feel for her all the more. To him that was worse, it meant that even though she could care for him she simply chose not to. He wasn’t important to her. He was just convenient. Whatever his feelings for her were, be it attraction or something more he didn’t know. All he knew was that it was the best and worst feeling in the world. He was addicted to it and would hold onto it as long as possible.

After he gave in, they both walked back to her friends. The four that Y/N drove got a cab while Daehyun drove the four he originally had in his car plus Hangyeols new girl who had to sit on his lap as Kyungseok was bitching. Y/N apologised to Hangyeol who didn’t look like he minded at all at the prospect of having the pretty girl sit on his lap. So, Y/N got her and Kyungseok a cab of their own in order to placate him for a few hours.

And they were off to Haeje.

Back at the BTS dorm 2 hours ago

Jimin stormed into the living room where all of his members were sat. Jungkook and Taehyung were still playing video games. Taehyung groaned in anger when Jungkook won again. Jungkook raised his arms in victory with a gummy worm half hanging out of his mouth. The rest of them were just hanging out. Jimin huffed and sat down on the sofa with his forehead scrunched in irritation and lips frowning. Hoseok raised an eyebrow at him half-heartedly most of his attention directed towards watching Taehyung and Jungkook’s game. “What’s wrong?” Jimin only huffed again and crossed his arms, by now he had the rest of his members attention except for Jungkook and Taehyung who were focused on their game. “Eunhee called said she didn’t want to go out asked if I could come over and we could just ‘talk’.” He said looking at his members. “She’s just playing games.” Namjoon said not looking up from his book. Jimin sighed in disappointment, “Yeah I know but I’m horny and I’m already dressed. Let’s go out guys!” He said enthusiastically. None of his members responded to him and he frowned. “Yaaah! I’m serious!” He said sternly.

Taehyung paid him no attention until Jungkook was about to beat him again. Then he quickly quit the game. “I agree with Jimin, let’s go out guys.” Jungkook punched his arm, “Hyung! You’re just saying that because you were losing.” Taehyung scoffed at him, “It was obvious that I was going to beat you, I just wasn’t in the mood for video games anymore!” Taehyung exclaimed. Jungkook just rolled his eyes. Hoseok looks up from his phone, “I wouldn’t mind a night out.” Yoongi groaned from his seat, “Count me out.” Jimin looked at him, “Come on hyung let’s all go it will be fun, we’ll have a few drinks. It’s on me tonight.” Jungkook looked away from the TV, “If it’s on Jimin hyung I’m in.” Jimin deadpanned at him. “But won’t noona want to come if we’re going drinking?” Jungkook asked. “All the more reason not to tell her. I’m genuinely worried about her liver. Plus, you know if she already made plans with her parents she won’t cancel.” Jin said to Jungkook. Jin then looked at Jimin, “I’m also in.” Jin said. Namjoon nodded wordlessly when everyone looked at him. Then they all looked at Yoongi who was trying to ignore their stares. After few seconds he looked up to see them still looking, He groaned in misery. “Fine!” Yoongi relented. Jimin cheered and then said, “We leave in an hour for Haeje.”

‘Thank fuck Y/N is at that other club.’ Jimin thought to himself.

[fuwahiko]

Ok more fluff coming your way because i throw it all on Hajime mans needs a break. Imagine a Non-Despair au where Izuru is a real person and Hajime's twin, they go to Hope's Peak. Izuru in the Main Course and Hajime in the Reserve Course.

Class 77 plan a get-together outside of school because they wanted to...and Chisa said to get together outside of school. Izuru is...not feeling social so he decides to bring Hajime along. He didn't tell anyone he was bringing his brother, but they'll learn when he shows up.

So fast forward to The Hang Out, and all of class 77 are waiting for Izuru. They're not surprised because Izuru is Izuru and he does not like socializing. They're all chatting and laughing at TeruTeru getting his ass chewed out by Mahiru when Izuru comes in and...he's hanging off of someone with short choppy hair and green eyes? Whomst? Izuru doesn't have friends outside of them who beith this man?

"Izuru what the hell, you forgot to tell them about me?!" "...oh, it seems so. Sorry Haji."

So Izuru introduces his brother because he FORGOT to tell his class about Hajime. Everyone's nice to him, even Nagito because he's got a hope boner for Izuru Kamukura aka Ultimate Hope man.

Fuyuhiko goes up and says "hi" because if Peko can try to socialize, so can he. Hajime smiles and says hi back, and that's that. Fuyuhiko goes back to his antisocial wall, and Hajine goes back to being Izuru's emotional support pillar. Literally.

But they're both flushed. Fuyuhiko's eyebrows are furrowed and Hajime's biting his lips. They steal glances at each other when the other isn't looking. Fuyuhiko and Hajime are both thinking, "Oh no cute boy."

And LET THE MUTUAL PINING, TSUNDERE ACTIONS, AND CLASS 77 SHENANIGANS COMMENCE. With wingwoman Peko, insgigator Natsumi on both sides, and Izuru being the overprotective brother that he is.

yessss pining boys!! without having like... the reasons they had in the game to talk to each other, how does one approach a cute boy (tm)? when both you and the cute boy (tm) are so awkward and have such difficulty getting chatting, what do you do?

imagining Peko as a wingwoman is really cute and kinda amusing too because she’s y’know, sort of awkward too and sometimes struggles to keep conversations going and stuff so I imagine there’d probably be some moments where Peko is trying her best to help Fuyuhiko by starting a conversation with Hajime so she can bring Fuyuhiko into it as well but maybe it’s a sort of unusual topic or she doesn’t really give Hajime much to work with so it kinda flops at first and Fuyuhiko’s concerned that it’s not gonna go anywhere, but then Peko ends up saying something that Hajime finds funny (even though there’s a 95% chance that Peko wasn’t intending to be funny) and that allows for the conversation to open up more and become a lot easier.

Hajime and Fuyuhiko end up keeping the conversation going for a few minutes, but they’re both still pretty flustered and they keep getting overwhelmed and distracted (cute boy!! omg!!) so they end up struggling and the conversation dies out again. just then Izuru spots them and comes over again to butt in and latch onto Hajime and Fuyuhiko uses it as an opportunity to head off and escape the awkwardness. Hajime gets irritated with Izuru for scaring Fuyuhiko off but is also honestly a little relieved because he wouldn’t have wanted to make things even more awkward by just letting the silence between them carry on for who knows how long.

the get together ends without them getting the chance to talk any more than that, but even so they both find that they just can’t stop thinking about each other in the days that follow. it’s been several days already but Fuyuhiko still gets distracted in class thinking about how cute Hajime’s big bright smile was and the sound of his laugh, how soft his hair looked, how big his arms were compared to his own. Hajime finds himself sitting on his bed and hugging his pillow to his chest as he thinks about Fuyuhiko’s pretty eyes, his cute freckles, and how surprisingly friendly and sweet he’d been in contrast to his intimidating aura (which Hajime also found very attractive, of course). there’s a lot of covering cheeks with hands, lowering heads to hide soft expressions and a hell of a lot of times where somebody is trying to get Hajime’s or Fuyuhiko’s attention but they might as well be talking to a brick wall because they’re both so distracted by their thoughts that they’re completely lost to the world.

Natsumi notices all of this from both of them and finds it hilarious (and pretty adorable, she has to admit) and even though she does think Hajime is sort of lame she knows her brother is genuinely really into him and... well, he’s not that bad, right? yeah, okay, he’s actually pretty alright... so why not give them both a little shove in the right direction?

problem is, they’re both completely useless.

she makes several attempts at trying to encourage them to do something about all these god damn butterflies and fluffy pink hearts that are practically radiating from them both, but nothing works. she gives up. a few more days pass and... nothing changes. they’re both so god damn annoying. Hajime lets out his 200th dreamy sigh in class (which is a lot less discreet than Hajime thinks it is) and Natsumi almost loses it. she has to do something about this.

the next day she asks Hajime to meet her in a quiet spot just outside of school when classes are over, she tells him she wants to talk about something. Hajime doesn’t really get what the deal is but he figures he’ll just go along with it rather than questioning her and making a fuss.

after school he goes to wait in the spot (Natsumi says she needs to do something else quickly first and tells Hajime to go ahead) but when he gets there... he sees Fuyuhiko is there waiting for him?!

Hajime stops dead in his tracks, freezing up and struggling to even breathe properly, and when Fuyuhiko looks up and realises Hajime is there he tenses up and balls his hands into fists at his sides. they stare at each other for a moment, their cheeks burning up as they process the situation, and then as soon as Fuyuhiko is able to kick his brain into gear again he realises exactly what is going on. he scrunches his face up, still bright red, though Hajime doesn’t notice yet. “god damn it, Natsumi!” his voice is loud, making Hajime jump a little, but it’s also sort of shaky.

“oh uh- I was supposed to meet her here- I-”

Fuyuhiko sighs. “yeah, me too. she did this on purpose. she was trying to get both of us here because she knows that-” he cut himself off, suddenly realising what he was about to say. out loud. to Hajime.

“huh? knows that what?” Hajime couldn’t figure out what Natsumi could possibly want from this that Fuyuhiko would know of. the only reason he could imagine was because she knew about his crush on Fuyuhiko and probably wanted to play some kind of prank, but that couldn’t be it because how would Fuyuhiko know why she’d called him there?

it was then that Hajime noticed that Fuyuhiko was turning away and avoiding eye contact. wait... is he blushing? what would cause him to blush in a situation like this? hang on a second...

slowly Hajime started to piece the situation together... but he must be imagining things, right? there has to be some other explanation. but he couldn’t help but cling onto that little thought, that maybe Fuyuhiko was also interested, even if it was silly to ever think that that could be the case. he wanted to test his theory out without giving himself away, and in the moment the best he could manage was some awkward joke. of course.

“hey... isn’t this kinda like when two characters in a romance anime meet up outside of school to confess or something?”

Fuyuhiko has a small coughing fit. he recovers after a moment and adjusts his tie, finally looking back at Hajime again. “huh?!”

Hajime panics and nervously searches for somewhere else to look so he doesn’t have to meet Fuyuhiko’s intense eyes. “n-nothing! I was just joking around! I uh- I thought it’d uh-” he feels like his cheeks are about to catch fire. he wants to run away but his legs won’t move an inch.

Fuyuhiko lets out a breathy laugh. “you’re so weird.”

Hajime looks up again and is surprised to see Fuyuhiko’s expression is much softer than expected, and though he keeps glancing up at Hajime he’s also struggling and looking around awkwardly as well. suddenly Hajime catches a look in Fuyuhiko’s eyes and they find themselves staring at each other for a moment. Hajime sees that he really wasn’t imagining it; Fuyuhiko’s face is very red right now. he realises that Fuyuhiko has noticed that his face is also red. he must have done. there’s no way he could possibly miss it. oh god.

there’s a long pause.

Fuyuhiko swallows and takes a moment to clear his throat.

“well anyway, since we’re here, do you want to... hang out sometime?”

Hajime’s eyes widen in surprise. he isn’t even able to process the question before Fuyuhiko continues speaking.

“I just mean because you’re my sister’s classmate n’ all I figure we should try to get along and-”

“y-yeah, sure. uh, I’d like that actually.” Hajime doesn’t realise he’s cut Fuyuhiko off until he’s already spoken.

there’s another pause, and then maybe a couple more minutes of them arranging a time and place to meet up in a few days while trying not to lose it and just turn to a big pile of mush out of embarrassment, and then they awkwardly part ways.

as Hajime turns to leave he thinks he hears something rustling in a bush nearby but figures it must be his imagination so he just ignores it and continues on his way.

Natsumi heads back home, a couple of small leaves stuck in her hair, giggling to herself. today would go down as one of the greatest successes of the ultimate little sister.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 8 - Parisian Nightmares

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Summary: With Neil MIA you have some time to think about everything that happened. But you are not allowed peace at all..

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: The longest chapter yet, so sorry for that. It’s a little bit of a filler slower one so hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

Supposedly the idea of having lunch with TP would have scared you more if it was not for the way he guided you through the experience. He ordered food from the dining hall and made sure you had your coffee before starting any serious topics. Your tired and confused self really appreciated the efforts.

“So what do you want to talk about?” you asked after finally feeling more like a functioning human being.

“I thought we could discuss the things to come…” he briefly searched for the right words “Parts of it is what Neil already knows, but some details are not meant for him” he looked at you with a serious gaze “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course” you nodded, feeling both intrigued and nervous.

Ever since the topic of The Algorithm has been first breached, you hoped to learn more. Probably Neil’s presence would have helped at the moment, but if that was not possible then you just had to face the truth calmly. If not now, then when?

“Can I ask something first?”

“Go ahead”

“My recruitment… it wasn’t just because I was recommended by my professor, was it?” you felt like you already knew the answer but had to ask anyway.

“No” TP smiled “I knew from a good source that we had to recruit you”

You stared at him, desperately trying to comprehend what he meant. Suddenly you understood Neil and his despise of half-truths.

“Can I ask who’s that source?”

TP just smiled apologetically, and you groaned.

“Right. Did Neil know?”

“No, I only told him that you have to be enlisted” at your questioning stare, he added “It’s safer that way” he shrugged as though it explained everything.

It did not, but you began to understand that it was not meant to make sense. A sentence said during one of your early lectures rung out in your head: Don’t try to understand it. Feel it. Maybe that was the whole point.

“So that’s how you know that I’ll be needed during the plan? From the source?”

“Kind of” he grinned again “It’s a very reliable source, I must add” he looked at you pointedly and laughed at your confused face “I swear this will get clearer with time”

The reassuring smile made you feel somewhat better. Taking a sip of the coffee, you considered what was being said.

“When does it all begin?”

“With action in Kiev Opera in a month, more or less. But in reality, it already began years ago”

You frowned, feeling your head go blank. TP was smiling, clearly enjoying your utter confusion.

“It’s okay, you’ll catch up eventually”

“Thanks, that’s encouraging” you lightly smacked him in the shoulder.

“I’ll give you more information leading up to Kiev and then after” he explained after a short silence “But you can’t know the whole progression of events. I’m the only one who is cursed with that”

The sudden change in the tone made you stare at him curiously. But his face was like a mask.

“For now though, you don’t need to worry about it” he smiled again “I’m sending you out on a quiet mission to Paris with one of our agents”

That was surprising. But you could do with a distraction.

“Okay… what’s the deal?” you leaned onto the table and flashed him a brilliant smile.

“You have to research one shady guy in Paris. It’s just observation so no need for engagement. The only trick is that you have to pose as a newlywed couple” he looked at you expectantly.

Oh…

“How long will this take?” you tried to focus on the details, not to think too much about the implications of the cover.

“Three weeks” he smiled at your glare “What? It’s gonna be nice! Three weeks in Paris and all you have to do is observe our target, Pierre or whatshisname, and cosy up with Jasper” the overly enthusiastic tone made you laugh.

“You made it sound almost fun” you admitted after calming down a little.

“Well, it’s always a break from spending time with Neil” TP looked at you with an amused expression “I’m sure you could use some of that” he winked.

You shot daggers in his direction, all the while feeling your face grow warm. Admittingly, time without Neil could be useful. You just were not sure it would do much at this point. You were beyond saving.

“When do I begin?”

“You’ll have a mission briefing tomorrow, and that’s also when you’ll meet Jasper” you nodded “And now I think you should rest a little” he eyed you carefully.

“You’re probably right” you both got up “Thanks for the lunch and the chat… It helped” you smiled lightly.

“My pleasure” he ignored your outstretched hand and gave you a quick hug.

After a small hesitation, you returned the gesture. It felt familiar, and you had no clue why. 

“If you ever need anything, you know where to find me” TP smiled at you warmly.

“I’ll remember that” you grinned back and moved to open the door.

“Oh and don’t worry about Neil” you stopped in your tracks and turned to stare at him “I know that he can be extremely annoying, but he really cares about you”

You were speechless and could only nod in response. The Protagonist laughed at your expression before shooing you out of the room with a gesture. You gladly did just that.

*** One thing was for certain, life without Neil could be boring. You found out that much from the moment you came back to your room. After making sure the main casualty of the mission – your dress – was in the washing, you spent most of that afternoon staring at the ceiling. You were mostly thinking about how much your life has changed in the last weeks. And trying to avoid thinking about him because that could never end well. But of course, the universe had other plans.

Just as you were dealing with the fact that the dress was utterly ruined, your phone buzzed. It was late, and the number was used solely for personal reasons, so the sound made you frown. You looked at the screen to find a text message from an unknown number:

“How’s the dress?”

There was no signature, but you knew.

“How did you get my number?” you replied and quickly saved his contact details.

It didn’t take him longer than a minute to respond.

“Used the charm you’re so quick to ignore”

Ah, Anna’s help then.

“Why?”

“Couldn’t imagine not bothering you for too long”

You covered your face with your hands for a few seconds before typing back.

“The dress is ruined, so thanks for nothing”

The speed with which he responded took you aback. Surely he’d have better things to do...? It did not seem so.

“It’s hardly my fault, is it? That wasn’t my idea” you could almost imagine the self-satisfied grin.

“Point taken” you hit the sent button and then took a deep breath.

It’s not too early for double texting, is it?

“Where are you?” you typed another message before throwing the phone on the other side of the bed.

When it buzzed again, you regretted the decision. Pretending that you would be able to resist reading the message immediately was pointless. You reached for the phone and read his answer:

“On the way to Boston airport”

Great. At least now you knew that he is not around, and you can have time to think. But with those texts, it might be harder to do. Before you could overthink the response, another one came through.

“Be honest, how bored are you without me?” you wondered how someone could be so annoying via text message.

“I’ve been assigned a little mission in Paris, actually. With Jasper. So not that bored, thank you very much”

This time it took him longer to respond. Approximately 6 minutes. Not that you were counting.

“You’ll be bored soon enough if you’ll be stuck somewhere with Jasper. What’s the cover?”

You did not like the assumption, but who were you to argue.

“Newlyweds enjoying honeymoon” you typed back and closed your eyes.

Somehow his response to that information mattered a lot.

“I guarantee you’ll wish it was me soon enough” Fucking hell.

“That’s a bit narcissistic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a little. But once you meet him, you’ll know I’m right”

“Well then I won’t hesitate to report back after the meeting” you replied and made sure to prepare yourself for the mission brief.

After you were done with planning the outfit and packing your folder, you glanced at the phone.

“Please do. I need to know what dear Jasper is up to these days”

“If you’re so curious about him, maybe ask Anna for his number ;) Sure she’d never deny you anything”

You weren’t sure where that came from, but sure enough, you were not going to take it back.

“Wow… Is that jealousy I’m sensing?”

“You wish” you glanced at the clock and realised how late it was.

“Goodnight, Neil” you sent him another text and went to the bathroom.

When you were back there was a message waiting for you.

“Sweet dreams, darling”

You groaned. In the end, it seemed like you will not be able to get a break from Neil. What a shame.

*** From the moment you stepped into the conference hall in the morning, you knew that Neil was right. Jasper was not one of the most entertaining people you have ever met. When you were introduced to each other he barely glanced up from the folder to look at you and half-heartedly shook your outstretched hand. You took a long look at him and his short brown hair and hazel eyes. He did look decent, to be fair. But he was not Neil. And you hated that your brain made that comparison straightaway.

“So what’s the task, boss?” the first time you heard his voice was when he addressed the Protagonist.

“You have to observe the target, Pierre Armand, who’s an inverted weapons dealer. You’re supposed to watch his every move and send daily updates but don’t engage. That will be the job for another team” TP looked at you both intently “Your cover is a newlywed couple going by the surname Morgan and who have just moved into their lovely suite next door to Armand” you’d swear he winked at you.

You glared back while your newly assigned partner studied the folder attentively. You wondered if he ever did anything else.

“When do we leave?” you decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Your plane is tomorrow afternoon” you nodded “Any other questions?” when neither of you spoke, he added “So I’ll leave you two to get acquittanced”

You stared at TP panicked, but he only flashed you one cheeky smile and left the room. That did explain why he and Neil got along so well. Grudgingly you turned towards Jasper, who was still pre-occupied with the damn folder. You cleared your throat, and he glanced up.

“So… have you been working here for a while?” you were shit at small talk.

“For three years now” he eyed you up sceptically “You’re the new recruit from London, aren’t you?” you could almost hear the condescension.

“Yes” it was not looking promising “Neil recruited me, and we’ve just been on a mission together in New York” you added.

It was a mistake. At the mention of Neil, Jasper’s eyes flared up, and he looked at you sharply.

“I heard that mission was a major fuck up” the vicious smirk took you aback “And poor Neil got shot”

You could only stare in confusion at the man in front of you. Boring and clearly having issues with Neil. Just bloody perfect.

“Anyway, I got to prepare” he got up “But mind you, Paris won’t be at all like an operation with that idiot” he glared at you.

“And what’s an operation with him like?” you were genuinely curious at this point.

“Overly dramatic” he made a grand gesture with his hands before slamming the doors in the wake of his exit.

He did have a point there. You sighed, grabbed your documents, and exited the hall. On the way to your room, you decided to give in to the temptation and typed a message to Neil.

“With grief, I have to admit you were right about Jasper”

You were not expecting a response instantly, so the buzz when you were pouring coffee into the cup made you jump up. Neil could make your life harder, even remotely.

“Told you. How is he doing?” you read the reply and grinned at the casual tone.

“He’s grumpy and hates you for some reason. Can’t wait to be stuck with him for three weeks” you sighed and accepted the grim fate.

“Sounds like him then. You never know, you might bond over your shared hatred for me”

You nearly choked on your coffee then. A fellow agent passing by on the corridor stared at you. This could only get worse.

“Think my hatred towards you has nothing compared to his. Any ideas why he’s like that?”

“Nothing concrete, but I’ve got a few vague theories. I’ll tell you when I’m back”

“Hope so. What time is it there?” closing the door to your room, you could finally behave like an idiot.

“Past 11 pm. Excited for your outing with Jasper?”

Asia then… You tried to think about any possible places he could be but came up with too many options.

“Not at all. Fully expecting my days will be spent wandering around Paris alone or watching French HGTV”

You decided to look through the folder to distract yourself from the increasing stress. This time you were supposed to be Amelia Morgan, wife to Nicholas Morgan. Amelia’s occupation was being an accountant, which sounded extremely boring, but at least you would get to experience the city. Your study was then interrupted by another text.

“You can always message me if you’re bored”

Tempting.

“Careful because I might”

“You better” To that, you did not know what to say,. so you just got lost in the preparations for the mission. This one was not looking good but there was no other choice. So you just focused on learning about your target. At least this time, there was no one to distract you.

Until another text came, a solid hour later.

“One clue about Jasper: Anna”

Oh not her again.

“Don’t tell me he’s hopelessly in love with her”

“Perhaps… And well, she has eyes for someone else so” and then “Not to be smug naturally”

You grinned at the screen.

“You do sound smug”

You had to admit that if Neil’s theory was true, it was rather heart-breaking for both Anna and Jasper. Not that you felt sorry for either of them.

“He might decide to take revenge upon me by breaking your heart”

You stared at the text and the many implications he could have meant it by it. And it was too much to figure out right now. Instead, you just typed back:

“Good luck to him” and then, with heart thumping wildly “Would you care if he did?”

You tried to ignore the phone when the answer came. But after an agonising minute spent reading the same two words over and over, you gave in.

“Maybe” 

Right… You just had to add that question to the long list for when he’s back. You closed the folder with a flourish. All mental coherence was gone.

*** It turned out that Neil was not right about everything. If Jasper ever intended to claim and then break your heart, he was utterly shit at it. Since the day you moved into your cosy Parisian flat, he barely spoke a word to you. Most of the time, he was buried nose deep in the mission briefs or books related to strategies and secrets of arms dealing. If you had tasks to complete, he would often sideline you before doing the job himself while ignoring any help you offered. To put it straightforwardly, he pissed you off.

And yet, his eagerness to be entirely self-dependent meant that you had time to discover Paris and relax while still completing the mission in any way you could. You also had more than enough time to text Neil, who always responded to your messages promptly. You sometimes wondered if he ever slept or did anything but talk to you. Not that you did mind, of course.

Your patience towards Jasper, his silence and superiority complex snapped for the first time after a week and a half. You have both been sitting in the living room of your condo, just after finishing quiet dinner. You were bored, extremely so. You have reached for the television remote with the intent to put on some background noise to ease the tension. But the moment you have switched the tv on, Jasper spoke:

“Don’t turn this shit on, it’s distracting” he has not even lifted his head from the folder he was studying.

You glared at him sharply and decided that you have had enough.

“Distracting from what? It’s not like you’ve not read this at least five times today already”

That made him look up. And he was not happy.

“I’m working. You should try that sometimes” he eyed you pointedly.

“I would if you ever gave me a chance to do anything” you shrugged, already not liking the conversation.

“I gave you a few opportunities, but you were just lazy” he placed his documents aside and went back to glaring at you “All you do is knock around Paris and stay on your phone for hours” a vicious smile appeared on his face “You’re texting Neil, aren’t you?”

You were taken aback by the whole situation and unable to deny the truth. “Even if I am, that’s none of your business” you were desperately hoping he would shut up.

But it was too late, and Jasper has clearly been triggered.

“That’s quite pathetic. You should know he never actually cares about all those girls he flirts with” he seemed to judge you “And I don’t see why you could be different” the smug smile was cruel.

Now you knew why it was better when he stayed quiet. You scrambled for any words of defence, but he managed to hit the mark. Swallowing hard, you schooled your face and replied in the most neutral tone you could muster at the moment.

“I think you’re just pissed Anna prefers Neil over you”

That worked. You watched with satisfaction as his eyes widened, and you silently thanked Neil for the information.

“Anna has nothing to do with this” it was his turn to stumble over the words “You’re just unwilling to face the truth” this time his harsh words lacked the sureness.

You were winning.

“So are you” you shrugged “I’ve had enough of this. You can go back to your precious mission briefs” you got up and left the room without a further glance.

You had to admit that his words did upset you. Even when you almost certainly knew he was wrong your brain had its own doubts. Because what if he was right? That would hurt, more than you could acknowledge.

But before you could begin the overthinking, the phone you threw onto the bed buzzed. He always knew when to message.

“How’s married life with Jasper going?”

And naturally, he always asked the right questions too. You did hate him for that.

“Now I know why it’s better he reads his documents instead of talking” you replied and debated what to do next.

“What did he do?” Neil quickly texted back even though you were pretty sure it was early morning hours for him.

You did not want to get into a serious conversation over the texts.

“He got a bit riled up and said some bullshit that wasn’t fun to listen to” that seemed like an easy way out for now.

“Do you want me to send a team to eliminate him? It would look like an accident”

You laughed at the tempting proposition.

“I’ll think about it”

“Are you alright?” you stared at the new message.

You were not exactly alright.

“I will be”

Why did lying feel so bad?

You switched off the lights in the room and lied on the bed. Just a week and a half to go. You’ve got this… right?

*** The last week in Paris passed in relative peace. Mostly because you and Jasper stopped speaking to each other entirely. Occasionally you would notice his cruel smirk appear when he caught you texting, and you did your best to ignore it. However, it did hurt, and you had to admit that one argument has managed to uproot all the confidence you have had.

Peace ended abruptly on the penultimate day when it became clear that you were being followed. Jasper caught on to the fact after he noticed someone shadow you on your walk through the city. You hid in one of the cafes as soon as he has signalled the fact to you. You knew he was right the moment a random man peered into the darkened premises and then went on to loiter nearby.

“Right, what do we do?” you looked around, trying to stay calm.

It seemed like no one else was onto you. Jasper already looked pissed off, and you wondered if it meant that more pleasant things would be said.

“I suspect they’ve got doubts about the authenticity of our story” he was intensely scanning the horizon, looking for any threats “He’s still there, waiting for us to blow the cover or prove him wrong” he turned to you with the most unhappy face you have ever seen.

“What is it?”

You were not sure you wanted to know the answer.

“We made it this far. I’m not letting them fuck it up” he leaned towards you and closed the gap.

You were frozen in horror before your brain caught up with the fact that Jasper was kissing you. Then you closed your eyes and tried to reciprocate with the minimum effort needed for it to look believable. It was pretty horrible, to put it simply. He was kissing you sloppily with a tempo that you could not match. You felt his hand clumsily entangle in your hair only to make you flinch when he ripped out a few hairs. After a solid 30 seconds long snog, you decided that had enough. You leaned back, ignoring the overwhelming urge to wipe your lips with the napkin. He stared at you briefly with that same disgusted face before discretely looking for your trail. The man was gone. You could only hope it worked as you exited the café, holding hands.

On the way back to the apartment, you refused to look at him, somehow hoping that would get rid of the awful way you felt. Naturally, being a spy did involve doing things like that but for some reason, it was not easy. You hated the fact that your brain kept on rewinding memories from New York and, in the process, making you feel worse. Once you made it back, you locked yourself in the room, leaving Jasper to fill in the report. You were tempted to message Neil just for the sake of knowing his thoughts on what happened.

“Today was my lucky day, and I got to experience PDA with Jasper. Send help”

That would do nicely, right?

“Must say I didn’t expect that”

As you were desperately looking for something to text back, your phone did something you did not expect it to do. It rang. You stared in shock as Neil’s number flashed as the caller ID. With a shaking hand, you picked up the phone and pressed the green button.

“Neil?” your voice sounded incredibly awkward.

Great start.

“What happened?” hearing his voice after those three weeks felt surreal.

Was it your imagination, or did he sound slightly tense?

“Um… we were being followed outside, so we entered a café. The tail was observing us and…” you took a deep breath, suddenly extremely nervous “And Jasper decided to kiss me to authenticate the cover”

Neil was silent, and that did not help with the irrational anxiety, so you rambled on, losing control of what you were saying.

“Well, it was more of a snog judging by how it lasted for thirty seconds, but I think they bought…”

“Okay, stop” he interrupted you abruptly “I’m not sure I want to know the details”

“Why not?” somehow out of the mixture of anxiety and insecurity, annoyance emerged “Are you jealous?”

You regretted the question as soon as it left your mouth. And did not want to know the answer. Luckily he did not respond. Instead, he did what Neil does best:

“Who’s a better kisser?”

You could not believe the nerve of this man.

“You can’t be for real” you muttered and heard him chuckle on the other side.

“It’s a legitimate question” you could picture the shrug and a cheeky smile.

It seemed like the initial awkwardness was gone. At least for him.

“I…” you huffed, unable to express the mess of emotions you felt.

“Oh, I know it’s you, but I’m asking about me and dear Jasper”

If he were in front of you, you would have punched him. But instead could only let out a frustrated groan and attempt to answer the question. There was only one way to do it.

“You” you mumbled, making sure your voice was barely coherent.

But of course, he heard you.

“I’m flattered” he had the smug tone nailed to the t.

“Fantastic” you sighed “Why did you call me?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice”

“Right”

“And to get you to answer the question”

“Of course” you sighed again “Now I should finish before Jasper barges in” That was partially an excuse, partially a real concern as you glanced nervously at the thin doors separating the rooms.

“Sure, don’t want you upsetting your husband. However, I’d love to see his face when he hears that I kiss better than him” Neil mused, and you gave yourself the liberty to just listen to his voice.

“Well, I’m not telling him that so feel free to do so when you meet up”

Your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps in the hall. Surely Jasper would not eavesdrop on you…?

“I’ve got to go, bye Neil” you hoped your tone sounded at least half as urgent as you felt.

“Goodbye, love. Don’t let that idiot get to you”

“I’ll try”

You hung up just as the doors to the bedroom opened. Sure enough, Jasper was stood there, with a scowl on his face.

“What were you doing?”

“Just being pathetic, I guess” you shrugged and walked past him without a glance.

[koolkat9]

In the Deep (Ch. 5)

How Does He Know You Love Him?

In a matter of days, I was right as rain again. Although it was nice for Ludwig to come to visit me in bed, I was excited to get out of that room and back near the sea. Also, knowing I wouldn’t have to worry about Ludwig drying up was another benefit of our regular spot. I still couldn’t shake the sounds of his gasps from my mind. Unfortunately, there was more than that to worry about. Ever since that night with Ludwig in the tub, ignoring my feelings for him had become difficult and there was no more hiding of the fact that I had fallen in love.

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked Francis carefully over breakfast. Francis was the last person I wanted to be talking to about this, but it wasn’t like I knew anyone else around. Though, the sight of him almost choking on his water made it a bit more bearable.

“What has brought this on?” 

“Fine…” I gulped not wanting to say what I was about to. “You were right,” I whispered.

“Quoi? I didn’t hear you.”

I groaned, burying my face into my hands. “You were right. I think I love Ludwig.”

“Ah! C’est bon,” Francis exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat. Maybe I should have just suffered in silence. Now the frog could brag and tease me to his heart's content, knowing he was right and possibly.

“Yeah, Yeah. Now about your love life. Do you have a partner?”

Francis’ smile faltered slightly, his eyes becoming somewhat sad. “Oh..oui. Two to be exact. We’re all engaged actually. Hopefully, they’ll keep their damn promise and sit down with me to plan the wedding once they get home from their fishing trip.”

“You miss them?” I asked without really thinking. It wasn’t like I cared for Francis, it was only a natural question. Seeing him sad definitely didn’t make me feel bad. Not at all.

“Yes. Very much. But that’s what it's like when you’re in love.”

I tried to push back a smile, but I still felt the corners of my mouth twitch. Who knew he could be so...sentimental...dare I say sweet. But this talk about missing people was bringing up some unpleasant feelings of my own so I figured it was best to move on. “I guess. So...How exactly did you guys end up together?”

“Oh, it's such a romantic story!” 

So the first of the two he met was his childhood friend Antonio. They apparently had shared their first kiss, but didn’t actually start dating until after their schooling. Shortly after that, they moved in together as Francis had inherited the inn from his parents and Antonio had started a fishing business. While out on one of his fishing excursions, Antonio came across their other partner, Gilbert, who was shipwrecked. But there seemed to be more to it. When Francis talked about this part of the story, he seemed hesitant, almost like he had to think about what he had to say. It felt off to me, but I didn’t say anything. I just needed to see that he wasn’t just all talk when it came to love. Francis went on, explaining how Antonio and Gilbert got close during that trip and they fell in love. Antonio brought Gilbert home to introduce him to Francis and the three became instant friends. Soon enough Francis also started to fall for Gilbert and he eventually confided in Antonio about it. Antonio who had also started with feelings proposed they try and court Gilbert together. 

“One thing led to another,” Francis sighed dreamily, “and we started dating and got engaged about a year and a half later.”

“That’s...quite the story.”

“Yes. They come home in about two weeks.” Francis suddenly sprung up. “Oh Arthur, you’ll be able to meet them. We could even have a double date with you and Ludwig.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ludwig and I aren’t even dating so don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Ah, right,” Francis said, taking a seat once more. “Well if you want my advice-”

“I don’t.” I did. And he knew it.

“Just be honest with him Arthur. I’m pretty sure he likes you too.”

My cheeks went warm at the comment. It's not like I hadn’t considered Ludwig returning my feelings, but it couldn’t be that easy. Could it? Francis must have picked up on my hesitation as he went on to add, “All you can do is try.”

---

The salty sea air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath. ‘All you can do is try,’ echoed through my mind as I cautiously made my way across the rocky path. Ludwig turned towards me, practically glowing in the sunlight, stopping me in my tracks. I probably stared for a bit too long. 

“Guten Abend,” he greeted with a small smile.

“Ah...y-yes good evening,” I stuttered out. 

“Are you going to sit?” Ludwig asked after a moment. 

Mentally kicking myself for being so awkward, I sat down next to him, but I was unable to meet his gaze.

“Everything okay?”

“Just peachy.”

“Okay…” He didn’t seem to believe me, but at the same time, he didn’t ask further. “So...any questions for today?”

Thank goodness, something normal. I had welcomed the distraction until I realized I had nothing to ask except for one topic. That topic was part of what had me so on edge in the first place. Then again, asking about mating rituals of his kind would be educational, normal, and possibly give me the confidence I needed. 

“Y-Yes...we’ve covered almost everything b-but...there is one more thing...we talked about it a little bit a few nights ago-”

“Just spit it out Arthur,” Ludwig interjected sharply.

“Mating Rituals. Does your kind have any mating rituals?”

His cheeks flushed and shoulders stiffened. “M-Mating rituals?” he sputtered.

“Yes...You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. I just…”

“It's okay.” His voice was too high-pitched for me to believe that, but I let him continue. “Well...There’s..um...Sorry...I’m not the most experienced with this stuff.”

“Don’t worry. Just do what you can.”

With a breath, Ludwig went on. “Well...I better start at the beginning. Usually the more...I guess...masc-...wait no...dominant ones of our species will start building nests with all kinds of plants and coral they can find. Some go for comfort, some make it more decorative, or a mix in between. It's all to attract a mate. It used to be used as...y-you know…” His gaze shifted awkwardly down to his lap, his blush creeping down his neck. “To have babies. But it's not like that anymore. At least not solely...for childbearing I mean but-”

“I get the picture,” I coughed awkwardly. Not that the idea of having sexual relations with Ludwig never crossed my mind (if anything it crossed my mind a little too much), but to talk so openly about it gave me anything but confidence. “Anything else?” 

“There is a calling in our language. It is a certain pattern of chirps and clicks that also attract potential mates. Once we find someone, we further engage in conversation and go from there.”

“Do you mind showing me?” I asked, “the call I mean.”

“Oh...uh...s-sure.” Ludwig looked a bit unsure, but proceeded anyway. He sounded almost like a dolphin, but it was still distinct enough. I found my cheeks heating up, my mind thinking what it would be like if he was calling to me like that. I shook my head, patting my cheeks to get rid of their colour. I didn’t need him getting suspicious. 

“What about you?” Ludwig questioned.

“What?”

“What kind of rituals does your kind have?”

I was surprised that he was asking now too. He never asked for prior questions. For a moment I allowed myself to hope, to think that this meant he liked me too. And I answered: “Hmm...there are a few though not everyone uses the same ones. But basic ones? There is the ritual of giving gifts like flowers, chocolates, jewelry…”

“Like my bracelet?” Ludwig’s eyes met mine. I felt like I just backed myself into a corner and more words got trapped in my throat. My gaze fell to the water. 

“I...um...ah...tech...I…well…”

“Arthur?” His hand found my shoulder, constricting my throat further. This was my chance, I had narrowed a confession down to one word.

“N-No,” I said instead. “Gifts can be for a variety of reasons. This one was out of guilt and...friendship.” At least it wasn’t a complete lie. 

“Oh…” His face fell, looking almost disappointed. “Anything else?”

“Well, then we go on a date which means we go to a restaurant or some other venue and get to know each other. Then there is the first kiss.”

“First kiss?” Ludwig asked with a quirked brow.

“Uh...Yes...Like, when you press your lips together and…”

“I think you need to show me.”

I swore I almost broke my neck when I turned back to him.“What?”

“Show me.” There was this intense fire in his eyes as he bore into me. My heartbeat quickened and my breath became short. That sly bugger. 

“I-I guess it can’t be helped,” I squeaked. I cautiously leaned forward, eyes closed, too scared to look. Ludwig ended up meeting me halfway just as I was about to give into my nerves. My eyes snapped open as his lips softly pressed against mine. They were cold, wet, but made me feel warm inside and out. It was like I was on fire, just like that moment from a few nights ago. As the kiss continued, I let my eyes slip closed and pulled him closer by his neck. Oh God, it was better than I could ever imagine. 

Unfortunately, we had to pull away, both of us gasping for breath. I didn’t move far, however, letting our breaths mingle. “I thought you didn’t know what a kiss was,” I joked, pressing my forehead against Ludwig’s.

“Maybe that was a lie,” he laughed sheepishly.

“So...are you going to make me a nest?”

“Shut up,” He hissed before going in for another kiss. 

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this chapter took so long. I had bad writer’s block for it, then I got caught up in ship events here on Tumblr and then university started which is taking up a lot of my time. That being said, updates won’t be as consistent as they once were, but don’t worry, I would never discontinue this story.

Previous Chapter

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[jeonjk0504]

why didn’t you say anything about the racism bts have faced these past days :(

Hey anon!

I actually haven‘t been online here because of the racism debate. I was on twitter and was supporting it there on two accounts nonstop! if you want to follow me, my @ is also jeonjk0504 :)

You are completely right though, i should have spoken up on my platform here sooner, to educate my followers on this really important matter!

If i make mistakes or should word things differently, please let me know, as you can tell i‘m not native.

The short version:

Credits to @ squishykosmos (twt)!

What happened?

3 days ago, the german radio host Matthias Mattuschik from the station Bayern3 spew racist remarks about BTS because of their MTV Unplugged cover of coldplay. He is a fanboy of coldplay and only wanted to introduce their song ‚Fix you‘ but somehow it was necessary to explain to his listeners why it was an utter insult that BTS had an MTV unplugged concert (he called it paradox, because it‘s a boyband) where they were allowed to cover his favorite song. Coldplay allowed the cover by the way and even commented on it positively.

Here are two links from his original rant, translated in english:

https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365211269133971458?s=21 (Part 1)

https://twitter.com/atinystrawbery/status/1365052883771785219?s=21 (Part 2)

As a german i know that to other people our language sounds quite agressive in general, but this is a whole different level. This isn‘t said in a jokingly way, it‘s pure hatred.

He called BTS a virus against which hopefully there will be a vaccine soon, that their cover of coldplay is blasphemy and that they are little pisser who should get a 20-year vacation in North Korea. Considering the rising violence against Asians all over the world because of Covid, his speech is extremely harmful and normalizes hate against Asians apart from the fact that it was racism in it’s purest form. Why the wish for a South Korean Group to have vacation in the North Korean dictatorship is inhumane and racist, i hopefully don‘t have to explain further. He even said, he can‘t be xenophobic, because he drives a korean brand car (which turned out to be japanese). The new ‚i can‘t be racist, i have a black friend‘.

This also hasn‘t been the first time, in 2018 he made an antisemetic comparison between smoker and jews for which he got a little attention, but no consequences.

Furthermore ARMY dug up a picture on his instagram from 2020 with the caption ‚ Is more evidence needed?!?,‘

A short note:

What makes this even more infuriating is that the radio station is regulated by public-law and german citizens are OBLIGATED to pay for it. We literally are forced to pay money to a radio station that broadcasts openly racist slurs! And no, it‘s not allowed. They have policies that explicitly say they are not allowed to discriminate, they have to support diversity and have to be politically and economically independant.

Do they give a fuck? Apparently not really.

Did Bayern3 answer the hashtags and the pressure?

They did, first came a short nonpology where they said that the show, which Matthias Matuschik is broadcasting, is known for his direct and honest opinions and that he could have worded it better. They are sorry if anyone felt insulted, which is excusing the feeling of the fans, but not the act in itself.

After Army answered with the hashtag ‚Racism is not an opinion‘ and various media coverage surfaced, they posted a second ‚apology‘, where they -again- said that they are distancing themselves from what was said and Matthias has always been an avid supporter of refugees so he is very far away from being a racist. (Supporting refugees doesn’t excuse you from saying racist things though.) Matthias stated that he is shocked from the reactions, that he is ‚sorry if people felt what he said was racist‘ and that his family is getting death threats. (which is in no way acceptable of course.) They would review what was said so it doesn‘t happen again.

Here you can read the statements in german and translated in english:

First statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365087239756259330?s=21

Second statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365305564050382849?s=21

This would have probably been the beginning of a conversation, if Matthias wouldn‘t have went to facebook after his second apology to like a supporting post that basically stated that the topic is way overhyped and in the 80s you were allowed to say your opinion without people getting butthurt (this is a short form.) He completely revised his remorse literally the same day after the updated apology and supported a statement that was gaslighting the people who critized him. You can read the facebook post here:

https://twitter.com/traveltomyrm/status/1365321397342461957?s=21

Since then: Nothing. My mom told me yesterday they‘re playing dynamite a lot, i told her to switch the channel.

News Coverage

Thankfully, we got a lot of support from I-ARMY and K-ARMY, otherwise we wouldn‘t have been able to trend the hashtags day and night and kept them in the top categories in germany and worldwide. We also got a lot of support from international media who called out the racism and put them into context in really amazing articles. (Also K-Media and J-Media but i only have screenshots, no links) Here are a few of them:

https://rollingstoneindia.com/xenophobic-german-presenters-comments-about-bts-are-just-the-tip-of-the-racist-iceberg/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/bryanrolli/2021/02/26/bts-were-once-again-the-subject-of-racist-on-air-remarks-and-received-a-pathetic-non-apology/

We even got celebrities like halsey, max, lauv, steve aoki, JJ Ryan, DJ Swivel, Liam McEwan, Zara Larsson, MTV UK, Columbia Records and some more bring attention to the issue and show their support for BTS in the face of racism.

This support was probably the reason why we even got a second ‚apology‘, because guess what? German media ain‘t having it. Since the beginning of our protest, i think i saw 2 articles in total which actually called it racism, various newspapers and online magazines were downplaying it by talking about ‚insults‘ and concentrating on Matthias calling BTS pisser instead of quoting the actual racist remarks he made. We got no TV news whatsoever. So naturally, german locals looking at this protest think that Fans are going on a rampage because their favorite boygroup got insulted.

It has been maddening. The radio station and host have been trying to sit this whole thing out for days, in hope we lose energy over the weekend and it‘s draining to not be heard or taken seriously. For me it‘s still a priviledged perspective, because i don‘t have to bear consequences when this thing is over, one way or another. But for Asians in our country, also some of my friends, this horror in times of covid will continue. The lack of serious German Media coverage has been frustrating and embarrasing to say the least, but also shown again, that the topic gets overshadowed by prejudices against KPop, the fanbase and Asians as part of satirical fun (which it isn‘t).

Why is that?

This is my personal take and not a deep analysis, just my personal observations: Germany might be progressive in a lot of aspects, but they still have deeply ingrained every day racism against asians and they have a huge problem realizing and admitting to that. We don‘t have a lot of asian representation and there is a huge alieniation from asians for a lot of german 50+ (also less, but those are the ones in power mostly). Racism against Asians is not seen enough and people don‘t empathize, partly because they‘re white privileged people who don‘t have to live with certain stigma, partly because they simply don‘t care to educate themselves about minorities in their own country. This ignorance is widespread, if it doesn‘t happen in front of your doorstep, it‘s probably nonexistant. It‘s also not only reserved for Asians, january 2021 we had a talkshow where 5 white german people talked happily about what minorities such as Romani people think as insulting or racist. They did get a lot of backleash because obviously they talk about matters, without letting minorities be part of the discussion, but real consequences? Nope.

I doubt that this protest will get Matthias Matuschik fired (which it should if you are openly racist on a public platform), because the pressure is too low and the radio station has shown with their first statement that they thought it‘s rather funny than problematic. But i don’t know what‘s going to happen. Apart from being an ARMY, i am an adult who condemns racism in any way or form. Why german media chooses to overlook the essence of the debate and makes it a hystercial fanbase issue is beyond me.

If you want to have a look yourself, you can follow German Fanbase accounts, such as @ BTS_UPDATES_GER for updates in german and english.

And at last, here is a thread on how german media reproduces Anti Asian Racism : https://twitter.com/storiesbythuy/status/1366073706817196046?s=21

German Armys are trying to come up with a plan to gain more attention for the topic at the moment, so we‘ll see how things turn out! Please support us if possible!

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 31

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 4/?

A/N: Soo sorry about the long wait! This was a very long and kind of tricky chapter to write so it took me longer than I would have wanted. But in a way this is (ironically) a good day to post this chapter as it's the Mother's day in many parts of the world today. (Happy Mother’s day Esperanza Valdez ;___;)

Before we head into this chapter, I want to give you guys a warning that it (specifically, the flashback in the beginning of the chapter) talks about what happened to Leo's mother, so in case you find that too hard to read, feel free to skip it. (If you have read HoO, I think you can somewhat guess what to expect)

Thanks for all the amazing support you guys have given me so far! ♥ It's what keeps me going! Now, enjoy, and remember that I'd really like to hear what you think because there's a lot going on in this chapter!

Words: 5550 (yeah, long one)

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: minor character death (talked about), be aware!

previous chapter / AO3

*flashback*

There was fire. So much fire.

Leo had been tinkering with his toy tools and drawing some simple blueprints in the living room when he had remembered that he had left his hammer into his room. He went to look for it and it took him a couple of minutes to locate it from under the unfinished toys and papers he had thrown around. Unfortunately, that couple of minutes had been enough for all hell to break loose in the living room.

He started smelling smoke and ran back downstairs to see where it came from. The wooden floor and several pieces of furniture in the living room were on fire, which seemed to have started from the papers he had left near the fireplace. Leo’s mind went completely blank like a machine that had just been shut down. The only thing that he was capable of thinking was: what do I do?

His mother had put a fire in the fireplace before she had left to run some errands because it had been a cold day. She had warned Leo several times to be careful with it, even putting a bucket of water and a smothering blanket nearby in case of emergency. But it was already too late to use them; the fire had already spread too far in the room. Because of his state of panic, it took Leo a while to manage to make decisions, but finally, his brain told him: get your phone so you can call mom, and run.

What his 8-year-old brain didn’t understand: he should have just left the building right then and asked a neighbor or someone to call the fire department instead. But Leo could only think how the very thing his mother had been worried about just happened and how she’d probably never forgive him for – no matter how accidentally – burning their home. He had vague memories of leaving his cell phone that he had gotten a few months earlier on his birthday into his room, so he ran upstairs as quickly as he could with his short, wobbly legs. However, the phone wasn’t on his desk like he had anticipated, and it took him a while to remember he had thrown it under the bed after getting frustrated with his homework; the words on the textbook they were supposed to read had not made any sense to him.

Once he finally found the cell phone and went back downstairs to leave the building, the fire had already spread so much that he could barely see anything from the smoke. Coughing, he tried to cover his mouth with his shirt so he could protect himself from the smoke and dash to the door, but he soon realized it was not possible. His road was blocked, and the only way for him to get out would be through the upstairs windows.

Leo didn’t have the time to figure out how to open the windows so he ended up breaking his bedroom window with a real hammer that he happened to find nearby. Shaking, breathing heavily and trying to avoid the glass shards, he looked down. The fall would be quite big, at least 5-6 meters, but he was no stranger to broken bones. The fights with other school kids had taught him a thing or two about that. He would still be more likely to survive the fall than trying to go out from downstairs; at least there were no stones or other hard objects under the window. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn’t even notice that his hands were bleeding; they had hit the broken glass when he had peeked out.

Finally, he managed to gain enough courage to climb up the windowsill and lift one of his legs over the edge. In the process he scraped himself some more in the glass and tore his pants a bit as well, but who cared? It was a very minor thing compared to his mother’s face if she’d find him dead in the house. For a moment Leo thought about all the blueprints and devices in development in the basement of the house, how hours and hours of his mother’s work would go to waste if the entire house burned down – but that was a thing to worry about for later. It was already too late to do anything but to try to escape.

With a huge lump in his throat as he imagined how his mother would hate him when she’d find out about the fire, Leo finally lifted his other leg over the edge as well, sitting on the windowsill with his legs hanging in the air. The distance between him and the ground seemed even bigger than it had earlier, but he had to do this. Slowly, he inched himself forward, hesitating a bit more, but the sound of the fire breaking something downstairs startled him and finally, he dropped down.

After that his memories started getting hazy. He fainted when hitting the ground and when he first woke up he noticed the pain in his left ankle and some blood coming from his forehead. He was laying on the grass, not unharmed but at least alive, and suddenly he got aware that he had to get farther from the house because the fire could easily spread to the surrounding grounds. He could only hope that a neighbor or a passerby had already called the fire department because he himself would not be able to do that, not with his dizzy head and the pain everywhere in his body. Before he passed out again, his last thought was: when would his mother be back?

The next time he was conscious, he remembered trying to drag himself forward with his hands. He could not stand up, and not even crawl, so that was the only thing he could do. Inch by inch, he got a bit farther from his falling spot, and by that time he also started hearing some distant sirens and human yells somewhere, but his mind could not comprehend what all of it meant.

After that, the next thing he remembered was being lifted from the ground by a first responder. The man tried to tell him soothing words, probably something like ‘poor child, it will be alright’, but Leo didn’t care. He wished the fogginess of his brain would just fade so he could speak and walk on his own feet and find out what happened to his mother – if she returned yet – but afterwards, he wished he would have never found out.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, not really sure what was happening around him, until finally he woke up in the hospital. One of his legs and arms had been plastered and a bandage had been wrapped around his head. Already he wished he could have just ripped them off and run away but he knew that wasn’t possible. A couple of minutes later, a nurse finally arrived at his bedside.

“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, testing his forehead to see if he had a fever. “You scared us there, young one.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about! Where’s my mom?! Hasn’t anyone told her I am here?” Leo demanded in a hoarse voice.

The nurse ignored his question. “Now, what is your name?”

“Leo Valdez,” he answered grumpily, glaring at the nurse.

“Good. How old are you?” the woman asked then.

“8 years. But how does that have anything to do with anything? I want my mom here!”

“Calm down, Mr. Valdez. We are just doing some routine tests. You hit your head pretty badly. Now, do you remember your home address?”

Leo, despite still feeling quite dizzy, got really angry about the question. “Yes, I do, but it doesn’t matter! There’s probably nothing left of it anymore! Because it burned down!” The tears finally demanded to get out of his system as he added with a tiny voice: “And I don’t know where my mom is.”

The nurse looked very hesitant for a moment. “I, um… You know, I think we are gonna complete this test a bit later. There are some people who have been wanting to see you.” She looked towards the door restlessly.

“Is it mom?” Leo asked instantly.

The nurse just shook her head. “You’ll see soon.”

She let the visitors in and left the room, closing the door behind her. Leo found himself staring at a firefighter, who he vaguely recognized as the same one who had carried him to safety after his fall. With him entered a police officer whom Leo had not seen before. Why would a police officer want to meet him, he wondered. Maybe they’d sentence him to prison for burning the house down?

“It was an accident!” Leo blurted before the men had time to say anything, trying to look brave even though he had just cried.

“We know, we know,” the firefighter tried to calm him down. “That’s not why we are here. We wanted to see how you were doing, and, um…” he looked helplessly at his companion.

“We have some bad news,” the police officer went straight to the topic.

“Is it about the house?” Leo asked.

“No, it’s about your mother… she’s gone.”

It took Leo a moment to register what the police officer had said.

“What?” he yelled.

“I’m sorry, but she is dead.”

Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was already so panicked that denial was his only coping mechanism left. “Again, what?”

“It is true, young man,” the police officer stated matter-of-factly.

“But she can’t be! She wasn’t even home…!” Leo squeaked, trying to make sense of the situation in his blurry, shocked mind.

The firefighter spoke this time. “I’m so sorry, son… but he’s not lying. We found her in your house. The neighbor who called us had seen her go in before we arrived, and… when we got there… it was already too late.”

“But… but…” Leo had a very hard time getting any words out at that moment. “Why… why would she go in…? And… why didn’t anyone stop her?”

Again the visitors hesitated before answering. “This is just what we heard from a couple of witnesses, but… it seems like she had gone in to… look for you…”

Leo wished the sweet unconsciousness had returned to him in that moment, but that didn’t happen. Instead, it felt like something tried to pull his heart out of his chest. His mind was going through about a hundred different things at the same time: grief, anger, denial… and perhaps above everything else, guilt. It was his fault. It was his fault that the house had burned, and it was his fault that his mother had gone into the burning house. If he had been there to warn her… if she had known… But no, he had had to jump from upstairs to the backyard from where he had been harder to find. And then he had, only half conscious, dragged himself to a nearby trench where the humidity had protected him, being even harder to spot unless you happened to walk right next to it.

That meant that his mother had gone into the house thinking he was there… and she had died thinking he had died. All because he hadn’t listened to her, because he had left some papers on which he had been drawing too near the fireplace.

‘My fault. All my fault’, was all Leo could hear in his head on repeat. He noticed that the firefighter was trying to say something, but he could not register what. Leo didn’t ask him to repeat what he had said. Instead, he stuttered with a weak voice:

“You didn’t answer my other question. Why… didn’t anyone… stop her?”

The police officer sighed sadly. “From what we know, your neighbors had tried to tell her to not go in, that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to listen. The… smoke had already suffocated her by the time we arrived.”

Leo clenched his small fists, unable to focus his gaze anywhere. Everything around him was just a meaningless blur. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to him anymore. With his mother, Leo hadn’t just lost the most important person in his life, the only person who had ever really cared about him and understood him. He had lost his home, his safety, everything that he had loved. More to himself than to the men in the room, he sobbed:

“What's going to happen to me?”

And then everything went blank.

*end flashback*

…

When Leo woke up, he noticed he was breathing very sharply. He had to tell himself to slow it down a bit, trying to focus on the breathing instead of the dream he had just seen. Once he had calmed down a bit, he realized his face was soaked from the tears. The good feeling from the day before was gone, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he hated that holiday so much. His mother had died on Christmas day, 11 years ago.

The worst part about the nightmare he had just seen? It had actually happened. Sure, the details might have changed in Leo’s mind a bit because he had been so young when his mother had died, but most of it was true. The fire, the jumping, the people in the hospital, all true. When he had still been a kid, he had dared to hope that maybe someday the memories would start fading and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, 11 years later, he knew better. Thanks to the therapy and Jo, Emmie and the friends’ help, he did have moments when he managed to feel happy, focus on the future and forget the pain for a time being, but when it came back, it was always as intense. And it was especially bad on Christmas days, the anniversary of those horrific events.

‘Pull yourself together’, Leo told himself. ‘This is not what your mother would have wanted for you.’

‘No’, another, the evil voice in his head said. ‘But then again, if it weren’t for you, she would still be here.’

He groaned at himself and decided that it would be better to get himself up and moving rather than lay there listening to the voices. Sitting up, he combed his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it, with little success. After that, he wiped the tears from his face, trying to pretend it had never happened. Registering the voices coming from the living room, he figured some of his family members were already awake even though it was still rather early. They, especially Georgina, were lucky that they didn’t know what was going through in his head that day; it would have ruined everyone’s Christmas.

Trying to pull himself together and put on a happy face, he got up and washed his face in the bathroom quickly before joining the family. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, Georgina ran to him and hugged him.

“Merry Christmas, hermano!”

Leo patted her hair absentmindedly, thinking that Georgina was now only a year older than he had been when… no, he had to stop thinking about it. If not for anyone else’s sake, then Georgina’s. She deserved to have a happy day.

“Merry Christmas to you too, hermanita. Well, did Santa visit? Did he receive my memo on your behavior towards me this year?”

Georgina pulled away from him and folded his arms. “I’m not a little baby anymore; I know Santa doesn’t actually exist. But we did get presents! Even you, although I was kind of surprised about that.”

Leo clutched his shirt. “Ouch, Georgie! I thought you were on my side!”

The siblings continued bickering playfully as they waited for the others. They had a tradition in their house that everyone needed to be there for the present opening. Soon Josephine appeared with a tray full of coffee cups, gingerbread cookies and certain small pies she used to bake every Christmas.

“Where are the others?” Georgina asked impatiently as she started stuffing the cookies into her mouth and drummed her legs against the sofa. “I want to open the presents already!”

“Calm down, Georgie,” Jo scolded her. “Emmie is checking the cats and dogs because they also need care on Christmas day, and Calypso may still be sleeping.”

“Ugh, I told her I wanna start opening the presents early!” Georgina protested. “I’ll go wake her up if she isn’t here in 10 minutes!”

“You’ll wake who up?” Calypso showed up from the stairway. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, Leo forgot for a moment why he had been so upset earlier. Somehow her presence just had that weird effect on him. She was wearing a green holiday sweater knitted by Annabeth over her pajamas – pink with some small flower prints – and her hair was flying freely, slightly wavy because of the braids that Georgie had insisted on making the previous evening. Somehow even that casual look made her look adorable in his eyes and his throat felt dry for entirely different reasons than a few minutes earlier. Leo almost missed Calypso’s next words due to his distraction. “Sorry that you had to wait, Georgina. I was finishing up one last present because I wasn’t entirely happy with it.”

“No worries!” Georgina exclaimed. Apparently the last minute gift preparing was a good enough reason to be late in her books, because Leo knew that if he had been late for the gift opening, the little girl wouldn’t have forgiven that easily.

Calypso put her pile of neatly packed presents under the tree to wait and turned to the others.

“So, merry Christmas, everyone! If I am allowed to be honest with you, I don’t really know a lot about Christmas traditions… My family never celebrated it… But I want to learn!”

“We’ll teach you,” Georgina told her immediately. “It’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!”

Leo wished he himself could have been as enthusiastic about the holiday as Georgina was, but tried to keep the happy face on anyway.

“Cal, try some of those pies before Georgie has eaten them all.” He pointed to the tray Jo had brought. Calypso glanced at him suspiciously for a moment. “Don’t give me that look; I swear I didn’t make them. It’s all Jo and Emmie.”

“Fine,” Calypso agreed and took a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed once her mouth was empty.

“Told you. Now do you trust me?” Leo asked her teasingly.

“Hmmm. That’s still to be determined,” Calypso replied, but Leo could see her smile into her piece of pie.

As everyone waited for Emmie to return inside, they kept up a light banter as they ate their Christmas breakfast in the living room. Even Leo did his best to participate in it, and soon he did feel a bit better, although if someone had looked at him more closely, they would have noticed the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, Emmie arrived together with Festus and Georgina instantly pulled her towards the Christmas tree so they could start the gift sharing. A grin spread across Leo’s face as well when he watched the little girl run back and forth as she delivered the packages to their rightful owners. This was now, he tried to remind himself. What happened in the past… was in the past and his mother would probably have wanted him to enjoy these moments.

Not that he’d ever know that for sure, the nasty voice in Leo’s head said again, and the grin almost disappeared from his face.

To no one’s surprise, Georgina got the most presents because even some family friends and neighbors had sent her something (that’s what happened when she got everyone wrapped around her finger, Leo thought), but everyone else got their fair share of self made gifts as well. Leo noticed that Calypso had three packages; one from him, one from Georgina who had insisted on making her own present, and one from Jo and Emmie. He found himself wishing she’d like what he had made; he had spent quite a lot of time on it.

Before anyone could start ripping their wrapping papers off the presents, Festus was given some treats so he wouldn’t interrupt the gift opening too much. Georgina got the privilege of getting to open hers first. She chuckled at Leo’s jokes in the photo album, which Leo took as a success, and squealed excitedly at the tiny dragon toy he had carved from wood and painted. Calypso had sewed her a detailed gryphon plushie, because Leo had told her that Georgina had recently gotten interested in the mythical creatures, a topic Calypso knew a lot about. The little girl hugged the plushie enthusiastically while Calypso promised her to tell her more about the Greek mythology later when they’d have more time. Emmie gave Georgie a tiny beginning of a plant that she’d get to raise on her own, and Jo, the practical person that she was, gave her a pocket knife for tinkering with a warning that she’d only get to use it under her supervision.

Leo and Calypso allowed Jo and Emmie to open their presents next. It was mostly practical stuff, like woolly socks, self made chocolate, and new tools (which broke the ‘homemade’ rule but Leo knew Jo needed them), but Leo had also tinkered frames for a photo of the Waystation family and asked Calypso to decorate it with her paints. The final result looked pretty good in his opinion.

Next was Calypso’s turn. Georgina had attempted to crochet a potholder for her because Leo had guiltily admitted that he may have accidentally ruined one of Calypso’s potholders while cooking something. However, since she was still a beginner in the handicrafts, the potholder had some room for improvement, but Leo could see from Calypso’s happy face that she appreciated the gesture. Leo had also told his mothers that Calypso really loved her flowers, so they gave her a white orchid in a pot that Jo had once crafted. Finally, she opened the gift Leo had made for her. He was biting his lip and tapping his fingers nervously even though he tried to act nonchalant as he watched Calypso’s reaction. Before she removed the paper, she knocked on the surface of the gift, trying to guess what was in it.

“Is this a tool box? So you could borrow mine when you lose yours?” She teased.

“Well, at least that would be useful, don’t you think? But hold your horses; it’s probably not what you think it is,” Leo hinted. Calypso gave him a quizzical look and Leo took that as a sign that she really had no idea what the gift was.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she noted and started carefully removing the paper. Unlike Georgina, she made sure that the paper would still be usable on some later occasion. Calypso wasn’t entirely wrong with her guess; the gift was indeed a box of sorts. But it wasn’t for tools. Instead, it was a jewelry box; wooden, self made, painted rose pink, which happened to be Calypso’s favorite color. When she opened it, she noticed a small mirror on the lid with some text on it. The box also played one of those few songs that they both happened to like. Calypso traced her finger on the smooth surface of the box for a moment before she noticed that there was still something more in the box: a silvery bracelet with a letter C hanging from it. She took it into her hands and admired it for a moment before reading aloud the text that had been written on the mirror:

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one.”

“Um, yeah…” Leo was unsure how he should respond. Suddenly he got worried he had been too straightforward with that message, and Calypso wouldn’t appreciate it. “It was a quote, um, that I happened to stumble upon somewhere recently… But I thought it was quite fitting?”

Calypso looked at him straight into the eyes and for a moment Leo managed to forget that there were others in the room. It was as if she was trying to message him wordlessly that she understood the meaning of the quote.

“Yes, I think it works,” she replied slowly. “For both of us.”

Leo felt his ears getting heated and attempted to comb his hair over them with his fingers to not make it so painfully obvious. Given what day it was, he understood that it was ironic he was using that quote when he himself was struggling to let go from his past.

“True,” he had to admit, looking at the others nervously from the corner of his eye. “It’s… it’s something that we both should try to remember. Something we have in common, right?”

Calypso seemed to accept his explanation. “Right. Um, this box is really beautiful. You’ve seen a lot of trouble with it. The music and all… It’s really nice. Did you even make this bracelet?”

Even though Leo should have prepared himself for that question, he felt embarrassed to reveal the bracelet’s origins, afraid it might sound too sentimental. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat to get more time to consider his answer.

“The… the chain was from an old bracelet my mom had… My biological mom, I mean. I didn’t get to keep a lot of her belongings but this had survived… and my dear aunt didn’t want to keep it so I’ve been carrying it around as a charm of some sort. But the thing is, I don’t really need it so it was Jo’s suggestion that I could give it to someone who’d use it. She helped me make this,” he showed the C, “because I don’t really…”

“Want to forge anything,” Calypso finished for him. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. If you don’t like it, you can give it to someone else; I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind…”

Calypso gave him an encouraging smile. “Oh, no! This bracelet meant a lot to you so it means a lot to me. It’s a really nice gesture, Leo.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied, kind of flustered by her reaction.

Calypso fiddled with the gift for a moment before turning her attention back to Leo.

“Would you like to put this on my wrist? I’d like to see how it fits.”

“Oh… alright!” Leo agreed, wishing he could say something that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. But then again, he reminded himself, wasn’t that what most people thought of him? And since when had he cared?

Calypso handed the bracelet to him and Leo took a very light hold of her wrist, as if afraid that he’d burn her skin with his hot fingers. He was so focused on his task that he even forgot that it was technically against the ‘rules’ they had set, but Calypso had initiated it so who was he to deny her request? He put the chain around her wrist with fumbling fingers and closed the lock. After that he allowed his hand to stay around hers a moment longer. He swiped the surface of the chain with his finger, also touching the back of her hand by accident (or maybe on purpose). Calypso looked up from their hands to him with a surprisingly soft expression that he hadn’t seen since that day when they had promised each other to try harder to be ‘just friends’. His brain sent sparks through his spine and he felt very warm all of a sudden.

“I… um… it seems to fit, doesn’t it?” he finally stuttered, looking down at the bracelet, Calypso’s gaze still lingering in his mind. He let her wrist go and already his hand felt much colder, as if it was missing something.

“Oh, yeah,” Calypso nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain of the bracelet. “It’s small enough that it won’t fall but it’s not too small.”

“Good,” Leo said, a smile returning to his face. “Guess you’re just as tiny as my mom was.” He finally managed to bring out his more playful side.

“Have you looked into the mirror lately, Mister Super-Sized McShizzle? You’re not exactly a giant yourself,” Calypso teased back.

Georgina giggled at her response. “You tell him, Calie!”

“This Georgina here, though,” Leo grinned at her, “she must really have some giant blood in her. She uses my overalls in the garage sometimes!”

“I do not,” Georgina denied quickly. “They’re stinky.”

“Yeah? And you smell like flowers and rainbows,” Leo retorted and started tickling the little girl.

For a moment Leo was able to forget that he hated Christmas as he played with Georgina, but then someone reminded him that he still had to open his own presents. He looked at the pile he had gotten and thought briefly that he had gotten more of them than what he had expected. Georgina had drawn him a picture of him with Festus and sewed him a simple pencil case for his blueprint pencils. Jason and Piper had gotten him a book about weird mechanics facts. Percy had sent him a new orange t-shirt so Leo could return him the one that he had once borrowed after a workout (which, according to Percy, was ‘way too big for him anyway’). Leo’s moms had made him an awesome tool case where even the bigger tools would fit and baked some of his favorite goodies. Finally, it was the turn for Calypso’s present, though.

“What do you think it is?” Calypso asked, glancing at him curiously.

“My first guess would have been a pack of olives because you know how much I love those things… But this doesn’t feel like them. It’s mostly soft but there are some hard parts too. Maybe a bit like a backpack?"

“That wasn’t a half bad guess,” Calypso responded. “But I won’t tell you the correct answer; you can figure it out on your own.” She invited Leo to open the present.

“Okie, Sunshine, will do.”

He ripped the paper (which was Leo’s favorite shade of red) off notably less gracefully than Calypso had done with her presents, but his mouth opened involuntarily when he saw what was inside. It was a toolbelt, not looking like one of those belts that broke in his use after the first couple of days (Leo had a habit to load them too full sometimes), but sturdy, well made. Leo wondered where she had obtained the leather she had used in it, and hoped that it hadn’t cost her too much money. The belt had four different sized pockets for the tools and it seemed like one of them had something in it, but before Leo checked what was inside, he turned to Calypso:

“How did you know I needed one of these?”

“Probably because you’ve been carrying wrenches and stuff in your jean pockets and I’ve also seen your room and that’s enough for me to be able to tell you need a place for your tools,” Calypso smirked. Leo barely heard her answer. He didn’t want to admit aloud that one of the reasons why he was suddenly feeling so sentimental about a tool belt was because it reminded him a lot of the one his mom had made for him when he was a kid. “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble…” He noted more quietly than usual.

“It was not trouble at all,” Calypso reassured him. “I have sewed more difficult things. The leather was actually from one of my old bags that my dad got for me – which I hated – so I didn’t even have to buy a lot of the materials. Besides, you yourself made this,” she knocked the wooden cover of the jewelry box, “and I bet it was a lot more difficult.”

“Nah, it wasn’t…” Leo tried to protest and he noticed the others in the room had a hard time keeping their faces straight as they listened to the flatmates competing whose present had taken more time. “The music was probably the most complicated part.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, deciding to leave the debate there. “Hey, I forgot to mention that there is something small in one of the pockets. You could check it out now.”

“Alright, I will,” Leo told her. He reached out to the said pocket and found a small box from it. His smile instantly disappeared from his face when he realized what it was. Everyone went quiet for a while as they were waiting for his reaction.

“Why would you give me matches, especially today of all days?” He lifted his gaze from the box, his eyes sparkling angrily. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the box away and jumped up from his seat. Calypso’s sad face was the last thing he saw before storming out of the room.