#and without going into too much detail the big bad of the series was a magic creature who could see through every mirror

[extreme-technicality]

“Sure hope the magical entity that can see through every mirror in existence is enjoying the show” I say as I do some dumb shit at my reflection

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (05/10)

Ocean's Whisper

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: non-communication, misunderstandings and bad times happen at Crown's, which will make or break your situation with with a certain rich boy.

words: 11.7k

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hello! I hope everyone is well 🤗 i had a lot of fun writing this chapter, the writing was easy and i'm very happy with the result. I really loved this chapter and I hope you love it too.

and also, please comment, let me know your comments, and reblog for the story to be more recognized, please 🙏🏻thank you so much for reading and enjoy it!

warnings: language, angst, Floris.

After that kiss in the ocean, you haven't stopped thinking about Aemond Targaryen for a single moment.

The feeling and the more than detailed memories are still fresh in your mind. The way he held you, the way he looked at you and the way he kissed you, remembering every movement of his lips and his big hands on your waist, marking your skin underwater.

Even at work, in every move and every thing you do right there, you do it thinking of him and only him.

And before you go to sleep, you go back to the same thing, remembering the way you both were clinging to each other, in a slow, passionate kiss as you stare at the ceiling of your room with your headphones listening to music.

You can't help it, it's more than clear.

And the urgency along with the excitement of telling Alysanne everything from the beginning until now, grows more and more with each passing moment.

But it's been four days since that night and you haven't heard anything from him.

After the fireworks were over, both pulled apart from one and the other to return to the beach. And neither of you mentioned anything about what happened, you just went back to sitting by the fire to dry off, watching the ocean, the sky and nothing else.

Even though the two of you didn't talk much afterwards, it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, but you could feel how he was thinking about it just like you were.

And because you can't try to tell what he was probably feeling from his expression, you still didn't feel any kind of regret. Because you didn't feel regret at any point.

But now that the two of you haven't spoken again, you're slowly doubting that it was a good idea.

You even thought of texting him, just to know if he is okay, but if you had told Alysanne, you could already hear her scolding or advice as she likes to call it, telling you that if he hasn't talked to you, it's because he doesn't want to and you won't be the first one to look for him.

Honestly you are one of those girls who have the thought that girls can also take the first step without leaving it all to the men, but... sometimes.

And now is not one of those 'sometimes'.

Because you've done the math and... you mean... Aemond Targaryen and you? The richest guy in all of Crown's with you? A poor one?

Maybe it's your fault for getting your hopes up for a simple kiss, maybe at the time he didn't regret it but now that days have passed, he must already think about it and that's why he hasn't contacted you... because it was a mistake.

Who rich guy would want to be with you? And of all guys, precisely him?

It's basically a forbidden law among guys and girls your age that a rich guy and a poor girl can't be friends, but now a couple? It's even more scandalous and impossible.

Maybe what happened between him and you was due to the emotion of the moment. And although his relationship with Floris is neither reciprocal nor true, the reality is clear and you don't compete with her for all that she can offer Aemond.

Now you know that the relationships among Crown's are rarely not convenient but that's how they have to be. And you have nothing to offer or share with Aemond.

However... you have the small hope.

The hope that he will seek you out and tell you to meet him at the pier. The hope that he doesn't think it was a mistake. And the hope that there are no regrets.

But the days continue to pass, there is no signal from him and you keep your same routine as always, disappointed and foolishly watching your phone waiting for a text from him. But nothing.

And the kiss won't leave your mind.

"Hurry up, Blackwood. Table three and four."

Mr. Frey says to you from the cash register, watching you with a serious, annoyed look on his face, wishing you were some kind of super human so you could do everything he ask's at the same time.

You avoid rolling your eyes and giving him an ungraceful look, as you're annoyed enough to have to put up with it, but quickly grab your pad and pen to head over to the new customers.

One thing you like about your job is that it keeps your mind busy most of the day. Sometimes the hours go by fast and sometimes not so fast. But you prefer this to overthinking most of the time.

So the minutes tick by, you find yourself taking orders, when suddenly, voices and giggles that you know very well enter the restaurant and catch your attention.

You part your lips and look towards the doors, where you see Floris and Cassandra Baratheon with Cerelle and Tyshara Lannister. But that's not the worst part, the worst part is that Aemond enters behind Floris with an expressionless but almost bored look on his face.

'Great.'

You think instantly, feeling the bitterness but also the nerves completely invade you as well as the memories intensify more at that moment as you bite your inner cheek and only pray it's not your turn to ask them for the order.

But it's not in your favor, as Alysanne is busy writing down orders and immediately Mr. Frey's menacing gaze lands on you.

"Blackwood!"

'Fuck.'

You feel yourself become small in your place and nerves invade your whole body, feeling your hands and legs begin to tremble.

'Oh God'.

You think completely terrified, then steel yourself with a bit of courage, take a deep breath and head towards them with the best look possible and already mentalizing yourself not to stare at him too much.

And pretend that you don't care at all about what happened between the two of them just like he does.

The four girls let out a too outrageous laugh that intimidates you as you start to approach, seeing their impeccable and expensive outfits, besides those accessories that scream all in them money.

But Aemond stands out more.

And it bothers you how damn good he looks with those sunglasses now on his forehead and his typical silver chain peeking out between the collar of his black t-shirt.

You start praying again and finally reach his table.

"Welcome to the Lord of the Crossing, what can I get you?"

You feel his gaze instantly on you but you remain firmly in watching your pad and occasionally them, but you don't watch him.

"I'll have a burger without fries and an iced tea," Cassandra speaks and you quickly write it down, "I don't want to eat any seafood today," she tells her friends.

"For me it would be shrimp broth," Cerelle then says.

Then the others go on telling you and you continue to write it down, though you don't miss Aemond's gaze on you and also her's... Floris.

You watch her back for a second and see how she watches you attentively, with a small amused smile on her lips. But you look away when they continue to tell you what they want to eat.

"Are you going to order a burger too?" asks Cassandra to Floris.

"Ew, no," he says with a disgusted face, "Do you know how many calories that has?"

"And what are you going to order? Salmon toast?"

"Are you crazy? I'm not eating any of that, so gross."

She tells her still disgusted and you don't understand her attitude or her behavior at all. But she clearly has no manners and saying such a thing, where the whole restaurant can hear her, is disrespectful.

"I'll have a sushi, with seaweed and no tampico, please," she says and you write it down.

But you don't miss the way she said it either, so polite and sweet, which is rare. But you ignore her and then turn slightly to Aemond, who is the only one left to order, but you don't look directly at him, you just wait for him to order.

"Just a soda, please."

'May the sound of his voice not affect you.'

You instantly say to yourself as you write it down and are about to ask if that will be all, when Floris' delicate and tender voice speaks first.

"Aren't you going to eat anything, babe? Are you feeling well?" she says worriedly, placing her hand on his arm.

"I'm fine," he replies in a completely different tone of voice than hers.

You press your lips and watch them all with your best look.

"That would be all?"

They all confirm yes and you walk away from there as if they have a contagious disease, really hoping they won't stay long.

You give the new orders to the cooks and clear the unoccupied tables for the next customers. You try not to look in their direction, just keeping busy with your work.

Then Alysanne appears and you point your gaze towards her table, where the Baratheon's and Lannister's are, to which she makes an annoyed face that makes you chuckle under your breath, and then you both continue working.

Then you finish delivering some orders when you see out of the corner of your eye how Aemond get's up and heads for the bathroom, so you quickly turn your back on him and put more distance between you and him.

When you are called to deliver the ready orders.

You place almost everything on a tray and head towards the table, more confident because Aemond is not with them, although you know he may appear at any moment, so you try to be as quick as possible.

You give their dishes first to the Lannister's, then to Cassandra and finally to Floris, and then tell them that you will bring them their drinks right away.

And just when you come back with the drinks, Aemond also goes to the table almost at the same time as you, so once again, you try to be quick and repeat the same process, first to the Lannister's, then to the Baratheon's and finally to him.

But just as you place his soda in front of him, Floris speaks. Or rather shouts.

"Hey you," she says, annoyed, towards you, "What the hell is this?"

'Uh oh.'

The voice in your head tells you and you watch as she shows you her sushi rolls.

"I told you I wanted sushi without seaweed and look what you brought me."

You frown and despite your nerves, which are on edge, you defend yourself with the nicest tone possible even though you would also like to talk to her the same way she is talking to you.

"Excuse me, but you specifically asked for it with seaweed," you say, remembering.

"Are you deaf? Or are your ears dirty or something? I'm telling you that I asked for it without seaweed."

"Floris," Aemond says next to her, looking at her seriously.

"What?" she says defensively, "It's not my fault she doesn't know how to do her job well."

"I can bring you where I write down the orders to show you where it says you ordered the sushi with seaweed," you suggest.

But the nerves and humiliation is great as everyone at the table is watching you, especially him and some customers from other tables around.

"Well, clearly you wrote wrong so take this away, will you? And bring me my order just like I asked you to," she says looking at you completely annoyed and folding her arms.

"Is there a problem here?"

'Oh, oh, again.'

Mr. Frey appears and you feel like you're going to die. Just as you can already anticipate all the stress and exhaustion you'll have to go through to make up for this.

But you're absolutely sure she ordered that seaweed sushi. You must have figured something like this would happen, though.

"Yes, your incompetent waitress here doesn't know how to write down the orders as we asked."

"But you ordered the sushi with seaweed," you explain, clearly offended by her words.

"Y/N," Mr. Frey's serious, restrained voice and his hand on your shoulder makes you tense up, "Go and bring her her food just as she asked. Now."

Resigned, you are left only to obey and completely embarrassed, you make your way towards her, stepping past Aemond to take the plate.

And once you have it in your hands, just as you take the first step, you clearly see how Floris slyly sticks her foot in you and as if this couldn't get any worse, you fall and the food lands on Cassandra and Cerelle's clothes.

"Oh my God!"

"Oh you idiot, look what you've done!" cries Cerelle in horror, jumping to her feet.

"Can't you do anything right!?"

Worried, embarrassed and nervous you quickly stand up, apologizing, but Mr. Frey immediately comes to your side with restrained fury.

"I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose," you try to defend yourself, "She stuck her foot in me!" you point at Floris.

"Stop embarrassing me and get the hell out of here, Y/N."

You look at him completely shocked, not expecting to hear those words, starting to feel the urge to cry.

"Yes, get out, that I didn't do anything to you," Floris corroborates, "That's how you treat customers here? Without serving them properly and accusing them with lies?"

"Will you stop?" you hear Aemond's voice also with restrained fury.

With your lips trembling, feeling all eyes on you, you hold back the urge to cry and quickly walk away from there, where on the way Alysanne stops you, annoyed and worried, but you tell her not to worry and head for your things, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

Once you leave the restaurant, the area and Crown's to finally enter Black Waves, you finally allow yourself to cry in freedom.

And when you get home, your uncle and aunt are there and are confused to see you come home so early, so you tell them about what happened.

Crying again from the rage, with all the anger and humiliation coursing through your veins as you tell them that none of what happened was your fault.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," your aunt embraces you in a warm hug as you let it all out, clinging to her, "Nothing that happened was your fault, sweetheart. Nothing."

And your Uncle Ben is looking upset and thoughtful, unable to believe everything he just heard.

"That fucking ungrateful Frey," he says annoyed, "All of them, rotting in money and having no values, treating the people who do everything for them like that," he points at you, "If I didn't have a job to lose, I'd smash the son of a bitch's face in this instant."

"Ben," your aunt gently reprimands him, still hugging you.

"Look how he's dropped our girl!"

He says incredulously, pointing his hand at you.

"Humiliating her in front of all those people and not giving her the benefit of the doubt to give the reason to all those fucking arrogant rich people who make your life impossible for not being like them."

You sniffle and turn away from your aunt, wiping away your tears and trying to calm yourself.

"It's okay," you say in a broken voice.

"No, it's not okay. Nothing they do in there is okay," your uncle insists.

"I'll just... look for another job," you say, "After all, I couldn't stand to be working at that place anymore. Maybe... this that happened was a good thing so I could find something else."

"No, honey. Having to go through that humiliation was not good," your aunt tells you in a soft tone, "That was very wrong of them and you didn't deserve that."

"Yes but already happened," you say without emotion, "It doesn't matter anymore."

Just then, the door opens and the three of you see Alysanne entering the house, worried.

"What are you doing here?" you ask her instantly confused.

"Did Mr. Frey do something to you too?" her mom asks her.

"No, I quit," she says simply, setting her backpack down.

"What? Why?" you ask her in surprise.

"Why?" she repeats incredulously, as if it wasn't obvious, "You still ask?"

"You didn't have to do that, Anne."

"Of course I did. It was only a matter of time," she says as she approaches you.

"But the money—

"Fuck the money. We'll find another job," she interrupts you then hugs you, "I'm so sorry."

You let out a long breath and hug her back.

"What did Mr. Frey tell you?"

"He was obviously upset," she tells you as she pulls away, "I told him what he did was wrong. That there are cameras and he can see what really happened. But he basically didn't give a shit to give the stupid of Floris the reason to make himself look good to his father."

Uncle Ben let's out a snort.

"Typical."

"Then I told him I was quitting and he kind of got worried, then he tried to convince me to convince you to come back so we could both keep working because we are the only ones who have endured him for so long, but I sent him to go fuck himself as well as him to you, demanded our final payment, he gave it to me with his murderous look on his face and I left."

A silence settles in the living room, then your aunt lets out a small breath.

"Well, at least you won't be working for that horrible man anymore."

"And don't worry," your uncle says, "Both will find another job."

Afterwards, you both go to your room and you take a nap, finally resting properly after so long with no more on your mind that the next day you have to go to the restaurant to work.

Despite what happened, you sleep peacefully and then wake up in the night, where you see Alysanne asleep next to you with her headphones on.

You let out a yawn and stretch, thinking you can go back to sleep, but you turn on your phone screen to check the time, when suddenly, you see Aemond's message notification, taking you by surprise.

You frown and read them from the notification, not wanting to go into the chat directly: "I'm so sorry about what happened.'

'Are you okay?'

'Can we meet?'

A bitter feeling runs through your body and you shake your head.

Of course he would eventually decide to text you out of pity, not really because he wanted to or because it was in his plans. And now you're the one who has no interest in hearing from him.

So you delete his notification messages, pretend he didn't send you anything and lock your screen, settling back to sleep.

"Fucking old man."

"If I'd been there I'd have broken his few remaining teeth."

"Besides, it's not like the food is good. That shrimp soup they make, it tastes like shit."

"And how do you know that?" asks Daniel to Chase confused.

"Cregan once came to his port with a bowl of those when I was working."

"We can cancel him on social media, you know? It's not a bad idea after all."

"Getting cancelled by a bunch of poor Black Waves people isn't a bad idea? Do you think we'll even have relevance against all of Crown's who also have more rich friends and connections all over the country and who knows how far beyond that?"

A brief silence settles in.

"Well, when you put it like that... yeah, it sounds bad. Very bad actually."

"Then I propose we set fire to his restaurant."

"Or we fill it all up with live octopus and crabs."

"Really?"

You look at your friends with an amused smile, and all three of them gesture innocently.

"What?"

"We want to defend your honor."

Sam says to you, draping one of his arms around your shoulders as you all walk together along the shore of the beach.

"You see, if you mess with a poor person, we poor people will attack you back. And Mr. Frey has been deserving it ever since the two of you started working for him."

"You're going to burn down his restaurant?" Alysanne inquires.

"What does it matter?" he shrugs, "That he doesn't have the money to make another one?"

You continue to listen to your friends' jokes, planning a plan worse and worse than the last on how to make Mr. Frey pay, all for the purpose of making you laugh.

For which you couldn't feel more grateful to them as you all spend an afternoon at Sunset's Pier.

Although they did get very upset when Alysanne told them everything that had happened, but the harsh reality is that a bunch of poor people can't do anything to a rich man from Crown's. So all that's left to do is settle for imaginary plans.

"Anyway, let's go surfing?" proposes Daniel.

"Yeah!"

"Hell yeah!"

You and Alysanne exchange a glance.

"Hum... we'll catch up with you later," she says, standing next to you.

"Why? Where are you going?" asks Chase in confusion.

"To find a job," you reply.

The search to find a new job has started exactly two days ago, so the only chance you both have and the best chance is here at the pier, but still nothing, though you're not giving up yet.

"Okay, good luck."

"Come back soon!" exclaims Daniel, trotting out to sea with his surfboard.

"And make sure it's not another dick boss!" exclaims Sam as well, following Daniel.

You watch the three of them with a small smile and walk away from the beach in the direction of the establishments, hoping to get lucky this day.

"Are you going to the party tonight?" asks Alysanne.

"Another one?"

"It's been almost two weeks since the last party here," she tells you incredulously and you let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, you're right."

"So?"

"Where?"

"Crown's, with Cregan."

"Oh no, no, absolutely not," you say quickly, shaking your head.

"Oh Y/N, come on!"

"Are you crazy? How do you think I'm going to stand at Crown's after what happened?" you stare at her incredulously, "Surely everyone already knows, as if it wasn't humiliating enough already."

"They'll all be drinking, having a good time and I highly doubt they'll be talking about or remembering at that point the poor girl who threw food on Cerelle and Cassandra."

"And the poor girl who supposedly took Floris' order wrong," you remind him annoyed.

"Come on!" she squeals, insistent, "You need it. We need to have some fun."

"They will all be there, what if they see me and again something bad happens?"

'Not to mention Aemond will probably be there too.'

Your mind reminds you and it's one more reason not to go after you've been ignoring his messages.

"Please, they're all always on the yachts. They never get off there and they won't see us."

"But they might," you suggest.

"They won't," she tells you with an absurd tone, "They think they're the queens of the city and that's their exclusive area, they won't," she repeats confidently.

"No, I really don't in the mood to go."

"Please, Y/N," she tells you desperately, "If you go with us, I'll wash all your clothes for a week," she proposes.

This inevitably gets your attention and you watch her really interested.

"All of it?"

"All of it," she affirms.

"Two weeks," you change the deal.

"One week," she repeats back to you with a frown.

"Two full weeks or no deal."

"Ugh, don't be like that," she reproaches you.

"Do you want me to go or not?"

"Two and a half weeks," she proposes.

You shake your head, with an amused smile and folding your arms.

"Two full weeks and I won't change my mind."

She rolls her eyes and you hold out your hand.

"Fine," she reluctantly shakes it.

"Fine," you smile victoriously.

That same day, instead of looking for a job, the two of you buy bikini sets for the night with Mr. Frey's final payment.

Alysanne wanted to buy more but you were responsible enough to stop her and yourself as well, since you can't spend all the money until you secure a new job.

Then you go surfing for a while with the boys, hours pass, you go home and in the evening, Cregan comes by both of you in his car, with the guys already in it.

And again, you find yourself walking into Crown's, where you start to reflect and think that this is probably a bad idea.

But everyone is so excited and deep down inside you, after the horrible days you've had, you also want to have fun, de-stress and not worry for a while.

And the funny comments from the guys, that they are spreading the excitement to you and that it feels like any other party, helps.

When you arrive at the party, they have not yet arrived, so you are instantly relieved, although the nervousness is still present. For despite Alysanne's words, your mind keeps going back to what happened at the restaurant, all fresh in your memory.

Fortunately, though, Sam, Chase, Daniel and Cregan decide to spend the party in a more secluded part of the beach, to protect you in case anything happens.

You appreciate that and soon enough the party begins.

It's quiet at first, just everyone talking and laughing with everyone, drinking, dancing, Sam and Daniel trying to distract you and keep your spirits up, telling bad jokes, while Chase talks to Cregan about surfing and the waves he hopes to catch tomorrow.

And of course, Cregan throws in jokes about the party and lets everyone know of more dramas that have been going on lately at Crown's with the rich families and how they came to his and his family's ears.

And of course, they all make jokes and throw curses towards Mr. Frey, not leaving him alone, while Alysanne and you laugh.

Also, Sam does a perfect imitation of the rich girls at Crown's, especially Floris and Cassandra Baratheon, who cry if they don't get what they want and always ask for things in a bad way, so shallow and arrogant.

"Don't you know who my father is?" threatens Sam pretending to be Floris Baratheon with indignation and superiority, placing a hand on his hip and watching everyone with a raised eyebrow.

You and Alysanne laugh, as do the guys, who continue to corroborate Sam's imitation for all they know of everyone's rich attitudes and phrases.

"Hey," your cousin gives you a slight elbow and points at you with her gaze, "I told you."

You follow her gaze and there they are, the Baratheon's and the Lannister's, who just as your cousin had told you, with bottles of wine and champagne, amid laughter and expensive outfits board their luxurious yachts.

Although this catches your attention, without being able to help it, you look for a specific person with silver hair, but there is not a single Targaryen accompanying them.

"We'll be fine," Alysanne tells you, beginning to truly relax.

You let out a long breath and take a long swig from your beer bottle, also definitely starting to relax.

There's no way they can recognize you from the great distance, though you still have to be alert because if one of them decides to come down, which you doubt very much, but it could still happen.

And even though your friends are still partying, you can't help but think of him... Aemond.

Where is he? Why isn't he here? Why didn't he come with Floris? Is he thinking about you too?'

You know you're the one who decided not to answer his messages and you know that's the right decision to make after what happened. But still... that fucking kiss keeps replaying in your mind.

But you also know it's not right. Him and you... together? Deciding to get involved like that?

It's a very bad and dangerous idea in which you could get yourself in serious trouble, and him too, after all. You with all of Crown's and him with his family and the Baratheon's.

So, although it hurts you, this is good, so that no one is harmed in any way. It's best not to see him anymore.

"Hey, smile."

Alysanne's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you watch as she wants to take a selfie of everyone together, so pretty soon the guys pile up behind you, with Daniel's arm around you hugging you and on Alysanne's account, all smiling, then striking a better pose, then making a funny face.

"I got my eye closed."

" In which one?"

"On the second one."

Then you hear the huge laugh Chase lets out toward Sam.

"You look like the baby from Toy Story three."

The guys do their antics by dancing, playing games of who finishes drinking the bottle the fastest, telling stories, and following the pretty girls around with their eyes. Which makes it all the more enjoyable, except for the last part.

“Hey man,” Daniel says to Cregan, ”When are you going to take us to meet your yacht?”

Cregan looks at him amused.

“My yacht?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was waiting until we were confident enough to be able to tell you.”

“The more subtle one,” Alysanne says.

"We have reasons," Daniel defends himself.

"Yeah because the time you were going to take us on your parents' yacht, the damn yacht was suddenly invisible," Sam backs him up.

"Okay, first of all, that wasn't my fault," Cregan clarifies, "I didn't know my parents were gone on it for the weekend because they didn't tell me either."

"I was totally devastated."

"You stole my illusion, man."

"Okay, you want me to invite you guys?" asks Cregan genuinely curious and unconcerned.

“Dude,” Sam looks at him incredulously, “You've been listening to us talk for months about yachts, champagne bottles and partying,” he lists off with his fingers, ”And you ask us if we want you to invite us?”

“It's not like you've been more direct,” he justifies himself.

“If we've been talking about yachts, champagne bottles and partying,” Daniel repeats now, also listing, “What do we really mean when we have a rich guy in our group of friends?” he asks him, expectantly, crossing his arms.

Cregan is about to speak, hesitant, but Sam speaks first.

“Exactly,” he points to him with his index finger, ‘That our friend Cregan, who has a yacht and bottles of champagne, because no one else of us does,’ he says obviously, ”invited us to have a party, just us.”

“You know how convenient you sound, don't you?” you ask them, taking another sip from your bottle.

“No, it's okay,” Cregan says instantly, “All my life I've known people to be conventional. But you guys aren't.”

“So we'll go to your yacht?” asks Daniel excitedly.

“Yeah, sure,” he says nonchalantly, ”Anytime. Just let me know.”

“It's not like it's that cool, really,” Chase says, unconcerned.

“What did you say?” Cregan gives him the expectant look.

“I've seen it. And I think the Targaryen yacht is bigger.”

Your heart flips slightly at hearing the last name.

“It's bigger than all of those,” Cregan points out those now on the dock.

“Not so cool, still.”

“Oh, okay, all right. Then let's have the party on your yacht,” he tells him condescendingly, “Oh right, you don't have one.”

Everyone starts laughing, you included, as Chase shows him the middle finger.

“I was just kidding.”

“Yeah, me too baby.”

“Hey, come here.”

Sam's approaching voice makes you watch him and he takes you by the hand, wanting to dance with you, so soon everyone starts making fun, while you laugh and Sam tries to lead you to the beat of the music.

And you have a good time, laughing, having fun and drinking, trying to do Sam's impossible but funny dance steps, starting to feel the alcohol starting to take its effect on you.

And everything seems fine until a high-pitched, familiar laugh interrupts you and cuts the mood.

“Well, well, look who we have here.”

'You've got to be kidding me.'

You think, feeling your stomach turn, turning your body to see Floris straight ahead, standing there, accompanied by Cerelle and Tyshara, all with malevolent smiles on their faces, especially Floris. 

And you wonder; in what moment did she come down here? And in what moment did she recognize you?

Alysanne rises from the sand as Floris faces them both with a sharp gaze, sweeping over each one, especially you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks with disdain, “Pretending to be one of us? Really?” 

You feel Alysanne tense beside you, clearly ready to answer, or rather attack. But you hold her arm, trying to keep things from getting out of hand. But the venom in Floris' words grows.

“How funny to see you like this, when in reality you are poor people from Black Waves,” she says with disgust, “Though now I see how you manage to mix among us, bringing with you more people from your dumpster,” she says with disdain, watching with a serious look between Cregan and the guys.

Cregan lets out a long breath, really not wanting to deal with this now, but it seems he has no choice. So he speaks, his voice serious and firm, not caring at all about defending you.

“They are here because I invited them, Floris. And I don't care what you think, nor do the others. Just like I don't care if you don't like the idea, because then you can get the hell out,” he clarifies, “You're not the owner of the beach and you're not the owner of Crown's.”

“You're also no one to be disrespecting us,” Chase tells him, stepping in as well.

Floris looks at him with a raised eyebrow and an offended face.

“And who are you to talk to me like that, you poor shit? Do you even know who I am or who my father is?”

Sam lets out a chuckle, unable to help it, with an obvious look at you, but suddenly Alysanne jumps up, fury in her eyes.

“How dare you!?” she yells at him, with full intent in her posture, ”You think you can come in here and insult my friends!? You think I can't really break your face after what you did!?”

The tension mounts and you quickly stop her, along with Cregan, as Sam, Daniel and Chase step in.

“Look at her, always so wild, all you from Black Waves, wanting to beat people up,” Floris says, wanting to leave them as the bad guys.

“Y/N didn't do anything to you at the restaurant! It was you who accused her of bringing you the wrong order and who made her fall on purpose, humiliating her in front of everyone and you think you don't deserve to be taught a lesson!?”

“You better get the fuck out of your shitty side of town, will you!?”

Floris yells at her too.

“All of you and especially you!” she points at you, “How dare you come here after what happened? You should be ashamed of yourself, wanting to pretend you belong here.”

Cregan walks over to her.

“That was enough. Stop it and leave,” he tells her in his firm but not aggressive voice.

Floris ignores him completely, her eyes glued on Alysanne and you, as if they were an insect she can crush effortlessly.

“You're pathetic. You should get the hell out and not come back before you humiliate yourselves any further. You don't belong at Crown's and you know it. All you are is some ridiculous fucking poor people with miserable lives.”

Floris' words hit you with a force you had not expected. You feel the rage burn inside you, but also the pain of humiliation. You can't escape that feeling of inferiority, of being less and being seen as little, instead of what you are, a human being.

And now you react, turning to her, with restrained fury.

“What did you just say?”

“Hey, no, no,” Sam stops you.

“You think I'm going to let myself be humiliated by you again?”

Floris lets out a laugh.

“I'm humiliating you?” she points out, ”But you're humiliating yourself, coming here.”

“We're not pretending to be like you, Floris. Do you think I would like to be a fucking spoiled brat like you who likes to humiliate others to feel good about herself?” you tell her, furious, ”We would never do that. But you're a liar and cruel, and you know it.”

Floris raises an eyebrow, indifferent. 

“Oh, please. No one's listening to you, you poor thing.”

Cregan again interjects, turning to her.

“That's enough. We're not going to let you bother us anymore.”

Floris barely pays any attention to him. In her mind, these guys, nor you along with Alysanne, have any value. And she finds it an insult that you're here, at Crown's.

“How lovely. You defending all these,” she points at them with disgust, ”But really, Cregan? That's how you choose to spend your time, with Black Waves trash instead of us?”

“I already told you what you think doesn't matter to me.”

Again the tension begins to build, along with the expectation that everything will explode at any moment.

The guys hold Alysanne and you, but more so Alysanne, while Cregan tries to get Floris and all of them to leave and calm everything down, but in vain.

Floris keeps talking, Alysanne's blood boils and suddenly, your cousin throws a cup of beer at all of them, soaking them and insulting them, so everything effectively explodes.

Basically the guys try to stop all of them at the same time, trying to calm the matter down, drawing the attention of the other people on the beach, while Alysanne desperately tries to have Floris' head, deciding not to let her insults and humiliations pass once again.

“That's enough!”

“Calm down, girls!

“Hey, no!”

“Stop it, Floris!”

“Alysanne!”

“Girls!”

They're all in a circle, sticking with each other, trying to avoid hitting each other at all costs.

“Hey, dude! Could you calm down your crazy girlfriend here!?”

“Hey! Floris!”

Your breath catches.

And your heart starts pounding at the sound of that voice.

And just as you look to the other side, where they are, Aemond appears, running towards Floris, his face serious and his eyes fixed on her, with his brother Aegon behind him, fascinated and excited by all the drama and fighting, like many others at the party. 

“Hey!” Aemond holds her firmly, pulling her away from Alysanne, “What the hell is wrong with you?” he inquires serious and tired.

“Let go of me!”

“Doing this again? Have you gone crazy?”

Floris doesn't say anything to him, she just arranges her hair and gives you a murderous look, as well as Alysanne and then, you watch Aemond with your parted lips and he watches you too.

For a moment, everything else seems to fade away, where your mind remembers the kiss, his hands marking your skin, his breath hitching against you, the fireworks and his face close to you. 

But the memory and sensations are only for a second, as both you and he focus on stopping this. Which, you finally succeed.

The last thing you see is Floris being led by her friends towards the yacht, with Aemond and Aegon following, watching him going after her, his posture tense.

When Cregan lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“It's unbelievable. Her and all those fucking arrogant, thinking they own everything.”

It's obvious that neither he, Alysanne, the boys or you are in the mood to stay.

“Let's go,” Chase says, having no choice.

Alysanne nods, still furious. 

“It's not worth it.”

You press your lips together, still feeling the helplessness coursing through your body.

You watch again where Aemond is going, when suddenly, he turns his head without stopping walking and looks at you, giving you one last look. But you turn around, following your friends, leaving the party along with the lights and music behind.

And as you leave, the sound of the waves seems to envelop you, but the weight of what happened crushes you, reminding you once again that you will never belong in this world.

You know it might be a bad idea to come but... you couldn't help it.

After everything that has happened, more bad things than good, you needed it. Walking onto Crown's beaches, you always feel that change in the air and it feels like a different place. Which is understandable because of the clear difference between Crown's and Black Waves.

But... it's not exactly that. You feel space and time differently, like it's running slower.

And you feel like you're on a distant island because of all the feet of the ravines that surround this section, enveloping you, making the view even better and feeling the tranquility in a better way.

And looking out at the deep ocean, sitting at the end of the pier, rocking your feet gently in the salt water, you wish you could have a place just like it in Black Waves, so you wouldn't have to come here and risk more.

Although you know that if you change places, it won't feel like it's like being in this place.

There is a calmness and a unique essence here, something that only this place seems to have and that is irreplaceable, just as nothing else compares to it. And you know and feel that every time you come here.

So you just have to resign yourself, close your eyes, take a deep breath and try to forget everything that bothers you, repeating in your mind that what happened, already happened.

You can't change it and you can't be hurting yourself by overthinking it all the time.

You fill your lungs with the salty air that envelops you, let the ocean breeze caress you and let the waves crashing against the shore be the only thing that reaches your ears.

You try to think of all the good things that will come next, a stable job, money and the finish line getting shorter and shorter to finally be able to go to college and fight for your dreams, which is the most important thing for you.

So you let all that fill you up and let the place do its job, which is to fill you with peace and tranquility.

When then, the creaking of wood near you catches your attention, interrupting and completely disappearing the whole moment, to quickly turn your head, alert and scared, fearing that it is one of the guards or a member of the Targaryen family.

But strangely you didn't think it might be Aemond. For you see him in surprise, entering the pier, just as surprised to see you here, neither of you expecting that.

And you both somehow just stand there, paralyzed, not knowing what to say or what to do.

It's as if both of you at the same time have memories flooding into your minds, of absolutely everything, the kiss, the restaurant, the party and the looks.

But you're still paralyzed, having no idea how to react.

When you are the first to look away, you press your lips together and swallow hard, nervously, feeling somehow vulnerable and having no idea what to do, as you continue to feel his burning gaze on you.

Then you stand up, shake your feet and put on your sandals, not intending to stay here any longer.

And Aemond seeing that, takes a cautious step towards you, watching you attentively and almost too... hopeful.

"I didn't see you when I was coming."

He tells you in a soft voice, not wanting to scare you or push you away, as you keep your gaze down and hug yourself as you feel a strong breeze with icy wind wrap around you, bristling your skin.

"I didn't hear you coming either," you tell him, somehow staying even.

He watches you silently, looking like he wants to tell you something else, but he thinks his words very carefully before he speaks. You, though, feel the slight tension in the air as the two of you stand here, in each other's presence, not knowing what to do.

'Great, weird.'

You think with some irony and disappointment, taking this as a sign to leave, since it's for the best and because he, like you, needs his peace and quiet.

"But don't worry, I'll leave so you can be alone."

You say to then start walking, passing by one side of him but making sure to keep a huge distance, fully intending to leave, when that exactly makes Aemond react and quickly act.

"Wait," he gently but firmly stops you by the arm.

You feel a strong and unexpected electricity run through your body at the contact, tensing you up and Aemond releases you almost immediately upon sensing this, your body rigid and seeing the surprise in your gaze, really not wanting to pull you away.

And he pulls away from you a little, bringing a hand to the back of his neck, nervous and a little uncomfortable, having no idea how to behave nor finding the right words to speak.

"I-I..." he begins, "I texted you. Multiple times."

You let out a long breath, beginning to feel the nervousness completely envelop you. You have no idea what to say or how to evade the conversation, as he clearly waits for an explanation.

"Um... yeah, I know. I-I'm... sorry, I was busy."

He frowns and watches you more closely.

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Yeah, very sure," you try to sound convincing, acting nonchalant.

"Really?" he gently inquires you, having none of it.

And that starts to bother you, so you straighten your back completely and raise your gaze to him, almost looking tired, crossing your arms.

"What's your point?"

"That you didn't really want to talk to me," he answers you honestly, watching you intently and with a soft gaze.

"Look I-I... I don't know, I just... I thought it wouldn't be a good idea."

He frowns again.

"Why not?"

You shake your head, not wanting to have this conversation, because you know it won't get you anywhere.

"Forget it. I should go."

You try to walk, away from him, but he again stops you.

"Wait... please," he tells you insistently, "I just..." he lets out a long sigh, "I just wanted to apologize to you for what happened with Floris. She—

"It's okay," you interrupt him, shaking your head, downplaying it and not seeing the point about talking about it, "It... it doesn't matter anymore, Aemond. And I really should go."

Again you try to leave, to walk away, but he again stops you.

"You have somewhere else to be?"

"And what's that for?"

"I want to talk to you," he tells you bluntly, not wanting you to leave.

And you feel the bitterness run through your whole body, watching him in the same way.

"Now do you want to talk?" you inquire, unable to help yourself.

You had been holding it back too long, especially since he texted you, that it needed to be said and you see the slight surprise appear on his face, clearly not expecting to hear that from you.

And you look at him seriously, daring him to tell you something about it, but he remains silent, having no idea what to say.

And the bitterness inside you intensifies, feeling that really all you're doing is wasting your time. And you don't want to do this anymore.

"Look, it's clear that neither of us expected to see each other tonight..." you say firmly and clearly in your tone of voice, "And the best thing, for both of us, is for me to leave."

Again you try to leave, but eventually Aemond loses it too.

"You're upset with me, is that it?"

He asks you, stepping in front of you, his brow furrowed and his expression slightly confused. It's as if, finally, he's starting to lose patience too.

"Cause I didn't look for you after we kissed?"

You feel your heart start to beat too fast and you watch him with your parted lips for a moment, not expecting him to be so direct in finally speaking the things that have been going on between the two of you.

"I—

"Because to be fair, you didn't look for me either," he reproaches you, not feeling like the one completely to blame for the whole situation.

"I'm not the one with a girlfriend, Aemond," you remind him, firm with your words.

He lets out a long breath, tearing his gaze away from yours, looking around as if that might help him continue the conversation and show him what he has to say, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"Well, yes, I... that's part of why I didn't contact you," he confesses to you, "It wasn't right if I did, nor for her in spite of everything and nor for you."

You press your lips together and lower your gaze for a moment, feeling the icy, salty air caress your face and blow your hair as well.

"Yeah, it wasn't..." you shake your head, "It wasn't a good idea if you did. Certainly what happened was a mistake because of your commitments and responsibilities and..." you nod, "It was for the best."

"A mistake?" he repeats looking at you confused and bewildered.

"I'm just telling you what I see," you explain, serious.

"Do you think that I think that kiss was a mistake?" he asks you incredulously.

"You don't?" you inquire back, "I mean...you and me? A rich guy and a poor girl doing this? Having this... whatever it is?"

You point between him and you with your finger, watching him in confusion, as he watches and listens to you intently, wanting to understand you.

"I could confide things about my life to you and I wanted you to finally express yourself to someone. I didn't see it as such a big deal because of our differences but... this?" you inquire, "Getting involved in this way when you have a girlfriend, risking your relationship and your position with all the people at Crown's? Do you even understand the trouble that will be made if people find out?"

Aemond understands very well everything you are telling him and what you are referring to specifically.

He also thought about it every night since that kiss happened, remembering your closeness, your touch and the sensation. Then reality hit him like a bucket of cold water and snapped him out of his fantasy.

The fantasy that this... it can be. Even he doesn't know how but maybe, just maybe, it can be.

And being here, with you, having you so close, with that kiss replaying in his mind over and over again, he doesn't think straight.

He doesn't think about the consequences, about what could go wrong, about how dangerous it is and he wants to feel it all again, to be close to you, to breathe and feel that sense of freedom he feels only when he's with you.

He knows he shouldn't, he knows what's at stake, that he has all eyes on him but still... he can't help himself. And he only wants to do it because it feels right.

"And you were thinking all this when we kissed?" he asks you in a low, soft tone.

You let out a long breath and lick your lips.

Obviously no, you didn't think about it because you didn't even think or imagine at any point that you would end up making out with Aemond Targaryen himself.

But now that it's happened, it's also a reality check and it only makes you see more at why it shouldn't have happened and why it can't go on.

"No."

"Do you regret it?"

He asks you suddenly and you swallow hard as you watch him nervously, again taking you by surprise by asking that question. But you decide to be honest.

"No."

Then he again comes closer, placing himself in front of you, looking somewhat desperate, as if the idea of you walking away is unbearable to him and he will do everything he can to make you stay, that answer being all he needs to hear.

"I know we're both different," he tells you, his voice now low, as if he's confessing something, "You and I... we don't belong on the same side and that's why I shouldn't... we shouldn't."

He doesn't let go of you and although you could easily pull away, you stay in place, watching and listening to him intently, feeling the tension inevitably grow between the two of you.

"But I... I haven't stopped thinking about you," he tells you and watches you with an overwhelming intensity that captivates and paralyzes you at the same time, "Ever since that kiss... I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

Your heart pounds in your chest and you say nothing, surprised, disoriented and longing, unconsciously, for that more.

"And another reason of why I didn't contact you was because... what I feel when I'm with you, it's... dangerous."

He confesses to you, his gaze becoming darker, more intense and more honest, as his hand comes up to touch your arm gently, moving closer towards you.

"Because I don't measure the consequences, I don't think straight, and being with you makes me want more, so much more than I should."

His honesty hits you hard, and for a moment, the air between you both seems to grow thicker, more charged with an electricity that is impossible to ignore.

You feel your breath hitch, and though you try to keep your composure, his words disarm you.

"I know it's not a good idea, I know this can bring us a lot of trouble and I know we shouldn't but I've spent my whole life letting my father and almost everyone around me make decisions for me that now... I want to make this decision," he tells you sure of his words.

"Aemond—

"I-I've never done this before," he interrupts you, wanting to make it all clear, "I don't even know what I'm saying exactly. But I want to do it because it feels right and because I feel like it's the right thing to do... for me."

He pauses, but doesn't look away from yours. You can see the internal battle in his eyes, the struggle to maintain control as emotions consume him inside.

And you, you're speechless, not expecting that he was going to tell you any of this.

"And I want you," he makes clear, voice firm but soft.

Those four words float in the air, suspended between the two of you, as you watch him with parted lips, the weight of his statement crashing over you like a wave and you feel the world around you seem to fade away.

You look him straight in the eye, searching for some sign that what he is saying is not a lie, with the slight hope in your gaze.

But there is no doubt in his gaze, only sincerity and you see him as you have seen him before in this place; vulnerable, honest and completely exposed.

Then you feel your own emotions swirl inside you, overwhelming, contradictory, but undeniable. And before you can stop or think, you take a step toward him, closing the distance between the two of you.

"Are you sure?" you ask him in a shaky whisper, because, suddenly, it all seems too much, the words, the emotions, the moment, everything.

He doesn't answer you right away, he shortens the distance between the two of you and his hand goes up to your cheek, caressing your skin with a softness that surprises you and you too raise your hand to caress his skin.

His fingers trace a line from your cheek to your jaw and the warmth of his touch envelops you completely.

His nose touches yours and you are both only inches away from each other, letting the closeness and the feeling envelop you completely along with the magic of the ocean and the shore.

"More than sure. I want you," he repeats, his voice low and soft, honest.

Then he leans his face closer to you, tilts his head and his lips meet yours.

It's as if you've been waiting for it for weeks, replaying the moment and reliving the sensation, which you reciprocate immediately, leaning closer to him if possible.

It's not rushed, nor is it gentle. It's intense, full of what you've both been waiting for.

And definitely the world around you fades away, because there is nothing but the contact between the two of you, the warmth of his lips on yours and the press of his body against yours.

Your arms curl around his neck and you feel him wrap his arms tighter around your waist, clinging to you.

The kiss becomes deeper, more demanding, and you find yourself losing yourself and letting yourself be completely carried away in it.

Everything looks and feels out of control but, at the same time, it feels absolutely right.

And you smile in the middle of the kiss, not wanting to let go of the moment, as you feel his long, pale fingers mark your skin, as you run your hands down his neck and through his hair, gently stirring it.

When you both run out of air and separate a few centimeters, catching your breath, with his forehead touching yours. Then a small smile also appears on his lips and he brushes his nose against yours.

"I have something to show you."

This catches your attention and you watch him through your eyelashes, still smiling softly and putting no distance between his body and yours, still hugging him.

"Hm?" you say slightly confused.

"You'll like it," he says to again leave a kiss on your lips, sounding like a promise.

Curiosity overcomes you and it is he who takes distance again between the two of you, to then entwine his hand with yours and begin to lead you, off the pier.

All the way off the beach you ask him what it's about, but he won't tell you anything about it, just that it's a surprise, which frustrates and confuses you but excites you more.

When you both leave through a main entrance to the beach with a booth and security guard and not jumping over a wall, as you are used to, and then he directs you to a black Jeep.

And you watch in surprise as he pulls some keys out of his front pocket.

"This is your car?" you ask in surprise, unable to help yourself.

"Yes," he observes you with a small smile, "I went to take care of some business at my father's work and on my way back, I didn't want to go home yet nor did I want them to know I was around so I decided to stop here and go to the pier," he explains to you.

You pay attention to him, but your attention is more on the beautiful Jeep he has. And he watches you almost tenderly, watching as you stare fascinated at his car, opening the door for you.

"Get in."

"But where are you taking me?" you ask amused.

"You'll see."

He doesn't give you any details and you enjoy the little ride in his car, so clean, so modern and having that very expensive smell, clearly.

The ride is not long and soon enough, he parks at Crown's pier, a pier that only he has access to and all the people who live on this side, obviously.

A pier where the rich pay to have their yachts or boats cleaned, maintained and cared for. And he clearly has no problem getting in, and then directing you towards a row of huge, expensive and elegant yachts tied up to the dock.

You've never been this close to one before and you have to remember to close your mouth at certain times and remove your fascinated idiot face when Aemond directs you and watches you.

When he stops in front of a huge three-story yacht with terraces, very luxurious and screaming money and power to the owners.

"This is my family's yacht," Aemond says to you, as you stare at the yacht with big bright eyes.

"And we're going up?" you ask him excited, thrilled and surprised.

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah, come on."

You follow him and watch as he strides confidently toward the gangway connecting the dock to the yacht, where you can't help but notice the familiarity with which he moves in this space, as if it were as commonplace to him as walking through his house.

However, for you, this place is a completely different world.

You contemplate the immensity of the yacht in front of you as you walk. And Aemond watches you over his shoulder, noticing your reactions again.

His lips curve into a small smile, and he holds out his hand, inviting you to come up.

You don't hesitate to take his hand, your eyes still watching the yacht, feeling your heart beat faster and faster with excitement with every step you take, because you've never been on something so luxurious before.

And once you set foot on the main deck, everything stretches out to you, with the air seeming to feel different, lighter.

And you stare in amazement at the deck furnished with huge white leather sofas that look very comfortable, as well as glass tables, expensive decorations and exotic plants in designer pots.

Aemond walks around the deck, showing you every corner as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He also shows you a huge dining table and an outdoor bar.

And you follow in his footsteps, feeling like you're in a dream.

"This yacht is mostly used by Aegon to bring his friends, girls, have his parties or when he wants to be alone. Daeron and Helaena also come when they don't want to be at home, sometimes I come with them or I also come when I don't want anyone to bother me," he explains to you as he gives you the tour.

"This isn't the yacht that was at the pier when you caught me, is it?"

"No, that one was smaller and my mom's."

You look at him in surprise.

"How many yachts does your family have, then?"

"Only three," he tells you amused, "My mom's, this one and another one about the same size as this one."

And he says it so simply, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to have three luxurious yachts and as if it's so easy to buy them, which... yes, it is easy, because his family has plenty of money.

"The other one is used more by my dad and when my mom wants to go on little trips, celebrations or things like that, it's on that yacht that we all get together but never on this one."

'I wish I had a lot of money too.'

Your mind tells you, making all your poverty clearer to you.

You listen to everything he tells you, but you're also too focused on absorbing every detail, from the sleek, minimalist design to the breathtaking views of the nighttime ocean stretching out in front of you.

Everything here looks like something out of a glossy magazine, and at times, you find it hard to believe you're really here.

"Come."

He says to you, as he slides the glass doors that take you inside the yacht and you follow him, stepping inside with him behind you.

'God.'

You think, gazing in wonder at all the interior that is most... extravagant.

White walls, white floor, black and gold details decorate the whole place. First is the large living room with white sofas, black furniture, soft carpets and windows big enough to give you an amazing view of the outside.

You can only imagine how beautiful you would see both from the deck side and from in here the whole ocean if the yacht was in motion.

Everything here is spacious, with those expensive decorations, air conditioning and a huge TV that takes up almost an entire wall.

And on the other end, there is a huge kitchen with black cabinets, refrigerator, stove, oven, dishwasher, island and basically equipped with absolutely everything, with nothing missing.

"Wow," you murmur, walking around the kitchen, observing everything.

Aemond doesn't stop watching you, because there's something about your expression, the way you watch everything in wonder and how your smile widens with each new discovery, that makes him smile too.

But you just can't help it. All of it breathtaking, every corner screams richness and exclusivity.

Then he briefly shows you the bathroom and takes you to the second floor, where you climb the stairs all too excitedly, peering in every direction.

"This is so cool," you say with a smile, watching the second floor hallway.

He shows you room after room, which is four in all, where each has its own luxurious bathroom, king-size beds, television and ocean views that look like something out of a dream.

Your mind tries to process all this, but it's as if every time you look around, something new surprises you.

Then he shows you the second-floor terrace, where there are also sofas, glass tables, an open bar, loungers and a hot tub.

"No way," you murmur in amazement.

You approach the edge of the hot tub, touching the water with your fingertips and feel the warmth of the water against your skin.

If Daniel were in this place, he would have passed out. And when you tell him, he definitely won't believe you. Or he'll believe you but he'll be very envious.

"I've always wanted to get on one of these yachts. But for some strange reason, I never thought they'd have hot tubs. I mean, I should have guessed," you tell him with a little smile, "It's great."

Every step you take inside this place makes you feel smaller and, at the same time, more excited. You enter a world to which you have never belonged, but which now opens up to you in the most unexpected way.

And deep down, you feel a strange mix of emotions, excitement to be here, but also a slight regret as you remember that this is not your world, that this is Aemond's life, not yours.

But Aemond doesn't notice any of this. He just keeps watching you, drawing his attention to the way you are amazed by everything.

There is something in your innocent amazement that moves him, something that makes him smile every time your eyes light up at the discovery of something new.

He knows that all this is new to you, and he likes to see you enjoying yourself, exploring this world that, for him, is so familiar but for you is completely unknown.

Then he takes you to the top floor, where there is also a small terrace that allows you to have an incredible view of the whole yacht and the ocean. And also where is the cabin to navigate the yacht.

"And do you know how to navigate this?" you ask him as you watch and walk through everything, looking at the details of the control panel and the helm, curious.

"Of course," he tells you slightly offended, "What's the point of owning a yacht and not knowing how to sail it?"

You can't help but let out a small laugh at the way he says it, almost as if it's a duty for someone like him.

"This is like a house, it already has everything you need and you could basically live here with no problem and without needing to sail."

"Yeah," he says thoughtfully, in agreement, "But the point is to sail it and show it off."

You let out a small laugh.

"Typical of those who live at Crown's."

He watches you with a small smile on his lips, realizing that for you, being here, getting to know his yacht, is enough. But not for him.

"Do you want to go sailing?"

"Now?" you look at him surprised, "In the middle of the night?"

"No, not now."

He answers you in a soft tone, moving closer to you, raising his hand to cup your cheek, watching you attentively and tenderly.

"But someday. Soon," he tells you then.

And you watch him in complete anticipation, leaning into his touch.

"Really?"

"Yes," he tells you softly, "We will."

You smile, excited, thrilled, excited, surprised, incredulous, all of it.

"I'd love to."

The idea of being here, of coming back and sailing the ocean together, seems almost unreal. It's something you never thought you could experience, much less with him. But the illusion settles deep within you.

Your smile widens even more, your eyes shining with excitement as you lean slightly into his touch, wanting to feel more of that warmth he brings you.

He watches you silently for a few moments and leans closer to you, kissing you softly.

His hand on your waist burns your skin and you cling to him completely, enjoying the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body, the way he makes you feel and the way he makes you forget everything and focus only on him.

And in the middle of the kiss, he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, his breath mixing with yours.

"We can spend the night here... if you want."

You watch him, somewhere between confusion and surprise.

"Here? Really?"

The idea is exciting, but forbidden, yet more exciting.

And he nods, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he watches you intently and gently, where you watching him back, you notice now that you are this close with him, his real eye and his prostatic eye, being able to see the difference.

But you don't care. He is still beautiful. Intrigue comes over you, though.

"Yes, yes we can. There won't be any problems. No one from my family comes here," he assures you, his tone calm.

"Are you sure? And Aegon?"

Aemond flashes a half-smile, cocking his head slightly to one side.

"I doubt he'll show up. He hasn't in a while.... Besides, if he come, he probably wouldn't even notice we were here."

Your thoughts race at full speed, the thought of staying there, in such a luxurious and private place, just you and Aemond alone, causes you a mixture of nerves and excitement.

You look around once more, feeling the cool evening breeze and the calm sound of the ocean in the distance. Everything seems magical. And you don't want to miss an opportunity like this.

"Okay."

Aemond leans into you again and kisses you more intensely this time. You cling to him, your hands exploring his neck and hair as the kiss grows deeper, more desperate, as if neither of you want it to end.

After a few minutes, when you both need to breathe, Aemond pulls away slightly, his lips barely brushing yours as he murmurs to you in a voice that is barely a whisper.

"Come. I'll show you where I usually sleep."

Without letting go of your hand, Aemond leads you back inside the yacht, down the stairs. The atmosphere inside is warm and welcoming, with dim lights illuminating the way.

You pass through several doors until you finally arrive at the last one, the room he showed you before and which is the largest of them all.

And as you both enter, tension, anticipation and excitement envelop both him and you. Where Aemond wraps his arms around your waist when your back is turned to him and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Do you like it?" he whispers, his voice deep and calm.

You don't respond right away, as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses on your shoulder, then moves down to your neck.

You close your eyes and tilt your head to the side, giving him more accessibility, feeling the shivers run through your entire body and your breathing heavier.

"Yes," you reply on a shaky sigh.

His large hands caress your waist without ceasing to mark and kiss your skin, only for you to begin to lose patience and turn towards him in his arms, kissing him deeply.

And you feel how the ocean whisper mixes with yours.

general taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

[buckys-wintersoldier]

His forever and ever

// Chapter One //

// Pairing //

-> (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary //

-> Moving on, living with your best friend and working in a part isn’t as easy as you thought but it’s not bad either. Some flirts here and there — you can be whoever you want, right?

// Wordcount //

-> 4.067 Words

// Warnings // Teen

-> angst, kind of stalking, comfort, best friend Steve, flirty John, mention of violence, jealousy,

// Authors Note //

-> The biggest thank you to the amazing @bucks-babe for proofreading and coming up with more details.

// Events //

-> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | B1 | Cold as ice | @fandom-free-bingo

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

// Series Masterlist //

<- Prologue

It’s been a few weeks since you left the mansion, the day you left you went to your friend, Steve Rogers. You both know one another since you’re kids, you grew up together. He is like your older brother, he always takes care of you.

He is handsome too, short blond hair, mostly styled and he has a highly defined muscular body, but the best of him are his oversized hoodies. Or more like his fitting hoodies but for you they are way too big and you love wearing them, especially since you broke up with Bucky.

Steve’s hoodies give you some comfort, feeling like a big hug and sometimes you also sleep with them. It doesn’t feel so cold since Bucky isn’t there to cuddle you and Steve is working and cuddling with you on the couch — then his hoodies are the best solution.

Your best friend never judges you for the movies you watch, the ice cream and chocolate you eat or laughs about the amount of tissues you need during these movies or just when you feel like everything's coming up and you need to cry.

He would and has never judged you for that, mostly he is offering you more ice cream or chocolate or he pulls you close against him, caressing your back and telling you that it will be better in a bit, that everything is going to be fine at some point. And that a pretty girl like you will find someone who deserves your love, someone who will treat you like you deserve.

Sometimes you ask yourself why your best friend needs to be gay, it would be so much easier to marry him, you know him so well and even though you’re not even the slightest bit over Bucky the thought of marrying your gay best friend is a bit funny.

Bucky is on your mind whenever you’re not fully distracted, when you close your eyes you see him in front of you and when you go out and see a man with long brown hair you always feel like it’s him. He is following you everywhere and you try as best as you can to move on but your heart still aches.

Little do you know Bucky feels the exact same but he doesn’t show it like you do. The man you used to know is deep down under a surface of hate and power. He doesn’t want anyone — not even his friends — to call him Bucky any longer, he is James Barnes and people have to look up to him.

The main time of the day he is working, mostly from the early morning into the night, but when he walks back into his room, the man he tries to be the whole day breaks down, his heart shattered and he didn’t know that it’s even possible that he can break that much.

James Barnes is nothing but a broken man, missing the only woman he loves, he is nothing without you, he can’t even laugh without you being around to give him a reason to laugh. The light in his dark turned off, leaving a hole where he is still falling, he feels like there is no ground underneath him.

“James?” One of his men asks and he looks up, rolling his eyes annoyed. Bucky has dark shadows under his eyes, he doesn't get much sleep and he mostly cries himself to sleep — thinking he is pathetic, crying as a mobster but he can’t help when he thinks about you and especially not when he thinks about you moving on, maybe having another man who makes you happy.

“What? Can't you all just fuck off and do as you're told?” He asks, his voice dark but slightly shaking. Since the day you left the mansion to move on without him he isn't himself anymore. Or maybe he is but he is the darkest and coldest side of himself he can be, trying to forget everything, trying to move on but who would he be? Would he move on without you by his side?

How could he dare to love himself when he pushed the only person who means everything for him away like she doesn't mean anything for him. He looks at the man in front of you, his blue eyes a storm of emotion but only for the ones who have seen the real man behind that cold surface, who have seen the lovely and sweet man.

“You wanted us to keep you updated,” the other man says, slightly shifting from one foot to the other. James doesn't care, he already knows, of course he told his men to keep him updated about you but as much as he tries to focus on his other work he just can. So he spends most of the day following every step you do, finding out about the place you live now, the place you work or where you spent your nights with.

“And do you have news or do you want to waste my time by standing around instead of doing your work?” James asks, rolling his eyes once again, sighing deeply. He leans forward, placing his forearms on the desk he is sitting at, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular tattooed arms. “Dickhead.”

The man who is still standing in the door of James' office looks at his boss with a slight shock in his widened eyes. He plays with his fingers, trying to calm his nervousness before he clears his throat, looking away from James. “S—She is going to the bar today, probably working but we heard that Steve is going there with her.”

Steve? James knows about your best friend, your gay best friend. He nods, scratching his beard. “Steve, huh? Describe him.”

The man nods, trying to remember the man he means. He inhales deeply, still nervous around the mobster and James' anger doesn't make it better at all. “Light brown hair, uhm tall and muscles, he had a girl close to him.”

“Oke, fuck off now.” The man turns immediately around, making his way as fast as possible out of James' office. The brown-haired mobster leans back in his chair, inhaling deeply while he tries to blink the tears away. It’s not your best friend youre going out with so who the fuck is that guy?

What does that Steve guy that he doesn’t have? Bucky could have given you the town, the whole world, but also the flowers you love so much, so what do you see in Steve? James brings his hand to his hair, sliding his fingers through his soft brown hair and when he closes his eyes for a moment it feels like it's your soft, smaller hand that combs his hair back. Your scent still lingering everywhere he goes and he is sure that it's just in his mind because not even your shirt you forgot is smelling like you anymore.

Sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is crashing on top of him, showing him over and over again that he messed up and that he should have been a better boyfriend for you. Maybe you would still live with him, maybe you would love him the way you used to and just maybe you would have your own little family now.

So just as he does so often he plans to look after you, making sure you're fine even though he never talked to you. James often went out to the place you were, looking for you and looking at you from a distance, he didn't want you to know that he is following you everywhere like a lost puppy — like the lost and broken puppy he is without your warmth and love. James gets up from his chair, making his way through his office to get ready for the evening to finally get you back, to get back the woman he loves more than anything else.

“Stevie, can we go now?” You ask, laughing when your best friend still struggles with his outfit. He walks out of his room, holding up two different shirts, and looks at you with a questioning gaze. With a playful roll of your eyes you look at the shirts he is holding in his hands until you point at the light blue one with the silver star on his shoulder. He nods with a soft smile, turning around and changes his shirt before he stands for the next problem of the evening.

“How do I want to style my hair? Do you think there are some hot guys, then I should look good too, maybe I can take one home later,” he giggles, standing in front of his mirror, fingers running to his short blond hair while he tries to style them a bit.

You chuckle, getting off the couch and walking into his room, standing behind him and he immediately gets on his knees so you can help him with his hair. A groan leaves your lip when you realize how easy he is going on his knees for you. “You always look handsome, Stevie. But how about we comb them back? Maybe they are going on their knees for you just as fast as you did for me right now.”

Steve laughs, letting his head fall back against your leg and smiles at you. His ocean blue eyes glowing slightly and for a moment you see Bucky kneeling in front of you. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and letting your mind run wild, imagine Bucky there with you, the way he looked at you with such adoration and love in his eyes. Whenever he looked at you his smile grew and his eyes lit up in the most beautiful blue, you always compared it with the ocean, especially during the sunset when the sun was kissing the ocean.

“Princess, hey, look at me,” Steve says, lifting his hand to bring it to your cheek, he wipes away the tears you didn't even know were covering your cheeks. You open your eyes, looking at your best friend, who smiles sadly at you.

He would love to take that pain away from you, to help you forget Bucky but he also knows that you're just not ready to do that. Your heart belongs to the mobster and it will probably forever.

“How about we let my hair be a bit messy?” Steve suggests and gets up before you can say anything. You nod, taking a step backwards and letting him get up. He holds his arms out for you to let him hug you and you smirk a bit when you let him pull you close against his chest. You can feel his defined muscles and his heart beating in a steady pace against his ribcage.

After the needed hug you make your way to the bar you're working at. Steve and you were often there to get you distracted after the break-up with Bucky. And you really appreciate it because just a week after going there the first time the boss of the bar asked you to work there as bartender and you immediately agreed.

It's a small bar with a little dance floor, the people who work there with you are really nice and also the customers are always nice. When they aren’t you can tell the bodyguards that you feel uncomfortable and they would immediately throw them out of the bar. Your boss made it clear “You feel uncomfortable? Let the bodyguards know and they will throw them out. Want my people to have fun at work, so never hesitate to say something.”

You’re already working for around half an hour and Steve is sitting in front of you, talking to you. You both always gossip over the boys in the bar, especially the ones Steve likes to look at and the ones who look at him. “Do you see that small guy there? The one with the dark hair.”

Steve nods in a direction and you chuckle when you see the man he is talking about. The other man is definitely that type of guy Steve would date. You smirk, leaning over so you're closer to Steve. “Catch him, tiger.”

Your best friend turns around, laughing about that nickname. You don't know when you called him that the first time but you describe his way to get a boy is always like a tiger is looking for his food, quiet and careful before he jumps on top of it.

When the smaller man walks closer to the two of you, your grin widens. You notice that man, you have seen him a few times here already and he was often looking at Steve then. You know his name and you also know his favorite drink, so you tap Steve's shoulder to get his attention, leaning closer once again.

“Stevie, he is coming here. I know his name and his favorite drink, do you want to impress him?” You ask, laughing when Steve’s eyes widen in excitement before he nods slightly. “His name is Anthony Stark but he prefers to be called Tony, and his drink is whiskey, so do you want to order two whiskeys for the two of you?”

You already prepare the drinks when Steve nods and turns lightly to the side to find Tony standing just a bit away from him. Your best friend gets off the chair, holding his hand out for Tony to take it and the smaller man does, smirking at the blond-haired man.

“Hi, handsome, how about a drink? Maybe a whiskey?” Steve asks, catching the smaller man off guard until he hears you giggle and looks at you, shaking his head. Tony then nods, letting go of Steve's hand and walking closer to the bar you're standing at, he takes a seat, waiting for Steve to do the same.

“Here you are, boys,” you say, smirking when both of them are already deep in their own talks, only nodding their heads as a thank you for the drink. You continue to work, making drinks and snacks for every one who asks for something.

When you have a short break, you stare at the people dancing in the middle of the bar, laughing and then you see Steve and Tony jumping and dancing around, waving at you. You wave back, laughing softly about their cuteness. You don’t notice the man who is sitting close to where you’re standing at the bar, his eyes roaming over your face and he can't help but need to smirk when he sees your eyes light up and your lips curl into such a beautiful smile.

“They look happy, have seen you know them? Such a cute couple,” the man says and you yelp in surprise, turning your head and feeling your cheeks heat up. He smirks at you, changing his seat to be closer to you and you giggle softly, when he places his arms on the surface of the table, his smirk grows when you prepare a drink for him.

“With or without lemon?” You ask, already letting a bit of lemon fall down into the glass filled with whiskey. Before he can answer he sees you adding the sour fruit and nodding, tilting his head to the side when you place the glass in front of him. “For free, because I'm in a good mood after seeing my best friend being so happy like that.”

The man chuckles, he then takes a sip of the drink and growls satisfied about the taste. “It's perfect, I'm John by the way, and who is the pretty girl I have the honor to talk to?” John asks and you giggle lightly, you had a lot of flirts since you have been working in the bar but he is definitely one of your favorites.

“I'm Y/N,” you tell him, looking straight into his blue eyes. Sometimes you wonder if you have a kind of weakness for men with blue eyes. But whoever stands in front of you can have the most beautiful eyes but they are nothing compared to Bucky’s, especially not to his ones when he was laughing.

It annoys you that he is always in your mind, stopping you from being happy completely but on the other side you're scared that when you would stop thinking about him that often you could forget about him. He hurt you, he broke promises and broke a part of you with that but no matter what he did you love him more than you ever thought you could love someone.

“Such a beautiful name. Are you alright, you're not looking as happy as you best friend and his date,” the blond haired man asks and you try to smile it away, the pain that is glistening in your eyes. “Do you know, I'm a stranger but I'm a cool stranger and sometimes it's easier to tell someone you don't know about your problems instead of someone you do know very well.”

He takes another sip of his whiskey, his eyes still piercing in yours and you sigh softly, shaking your head. Maybe he is right, maybe you should tell him about Bucky, about your break-up. But when you do you better not call Bucky by his name, people like to react really weird when they know that you were together with a mobster. You make yourself a drink too, just lemonade with some ice before you place your hands on the counter in front of you, nodding your head.

“You could be right. I mean I don't know but who cares right?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to make it easier for you to talk about Bucky. John nods, waiting patiently for you to continue talking.

You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him longer than just these five minutes. His patient and his soft smirk across his face causes you to relax, you weren't able to do that in a while but you're glad you can relax around another man than Steve — or Bucky — especially right now. And a part of you is glad that he isn't just one who wants to flirt with you but is really interested in you and your feelings.

“My bo- my ex-boyfriend and I broke up a few weeks ago. He used to be so sweet and caring but at some point it felt like his work was the most important thing in his life. He promised to go out but he never kept that promise, he made it up to me— yeah, with really good sex. But it's not all when you never get the affection and love you crave and when your boyfriend thinks you're self-evident and willing to forgive him everything no matter how bad he hurts you,” you tell John, his smirks fades away and his eyes narrow slightly. He places his hands underneath his chin, nodding when you finished talking, giving himself a moment to process what you just said.

After a moment he clears his throat, he interlocks his fingers and places his chin on top of them once again, then he smirks softly at you. “He didn't know what he had when he treated you like that. Heartbreaks always hurt but I'm sure you will find someone who will bring back your smile, who will love you and where you’re the priority in his life,” John says and makes you blush.

Even though you blush and appreciate his words, whenever you hear those words you think about Bucky. The way he used to touch you, his lips so soft and warm against your skin, he knows you better than you do and the way he just looked at you. He always found the best solution to comfort you even though it was just a hug or kisses, he always had a solution for every feeling that wasn't happiness. You felt like you were the most adorable woman, even the day you moved out he looked at you like that, you can still see his teary, red eyes when you told him that you need to move on when you close your eyes.

When you open your mouth to say something you see someone walking toward the bar. You swallow thickly, recognizing the man who makes his way toward you. Only now you notice the way the people close around the bar whisper something to one another and stare into two directions, the one is toward you where the broad man is walking toward the bar you're standing behind and the direction is to the lounge in a corner of the bar.

John turns a bit around to look at the man who causes your eyes to widen. Your body starts to tremble and you don't even have to look to the lounge to know who is sitting there. You inhale deeply, maybe they just want a drink and nothing more, he doesn't know that you're working in the bar, right? But he always told you he will find you and he can find everyone and anything if he wants.

“H—Hi, do you want to have a drink? Maybe with some snacks?” You ask nicely, hands shaking when you want to turn around to grab two glasses. He didn't even pay attention to you, Thor — Bucky's Bodyguard — looks down at John who narrows his eyebrows, looking confused between you and the broad man in front of him.

“You should leave now,” Thor growls, nodding his head toward the door but John doesn't move. You feel really uncomfortable right now but you’re frozen to the ground, not able to walk a step or ask some of the bodyguards of the bar. And you're not even sure if they would throw the mobster and his man out of the bar.

“I don't think you can tell me what to do, and I’m having a good talk with this beautiful girl here, so please leave us alone,” John says, calmly when he turns back toward you. His eyes widen when he sees the terror in your eyes, and your body trembles while you stare at Thor. “Are you oke?”

You move your head slightly to look at John, nodding your head before you shake it and swallow thickly once again. Thor's hand snaps forward, grasping John's chin and turning his face with force back toward you before he forces John to tilt his head back, grabbing tight around his jaw while Thor leans closer. There are only inches away between both men's faces. “I told you to leave and I won't say that again. My boss doesn't like it when someone who isn’t him flirts with his girl.”

“You can tell Bucky that I'm not his girl anymore. I broke up so leave John alone,” you say, feeling a smooth tingling in your lower belly that Bucky still says that you belong to him. But at the same time you are kind of mad that he wants to decide who you’re dating, especially when he just walks into the bar and doesn’t even let you talk to John.

John wiggles out of Thor's grip, getting off the chair and walking a few steps backwards. The broad man looks at him, grinning lightly but before he can react John lifts his hand and hits Thor across his face. The bodyguard's eyes widen and he walks a few steps back, looking with shock and confusion in his eyes at the smaller man.

“I’m sorry, John,” you mumble, earning just a soft smile and a shake of his head from the man. You don’t need to apologize for something you didn’t do. Thor just wants to step closer toward John when his phone buzzes. He reads whatever the other person wrote before he furrows, stares at John, then looks at you and smirks.

“He doesn’t like it when you make him jealous, you know that,” he mumbles, turning around and heading back to the lounge. You follow him with your eyes and then you see HIM.

Bucky Barnes, the man who still owns your heart, the one and only man for you. But also the one who hurt you and the one who scares other men away from you, making sure there is no one you can date when it’s not him.

-> Chapter Two

-> Asks, ideas, small Drabble ideas are appreciated! So feel free to reach out in case you have ideas or questions.

// Taglist //

@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @somnorvos @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99

Event Taglist: @amathslutsguidetofandom @buck-buck-buckaroo @mcira @queenashen @iloveshawnieboi @keylimebeag @sapphirebarnes @delicatebarness @vicmc624 @scott-loki-barnes @ordelixx @mostlymarvelgirl @differenttyphoonwerewolf @julvrs @esposadomd @rebeccapineapple @metanoiablxxm

[habken]

Izuku and Katsuki Hospital Comic - Thoughts and Process

I wanted to talk about the process and my thoughts while making this comic! Cause it was A Lot of planning and I feel like talking about how I went about it could maybe be helpful for other people who wanna make comics too ?

Also I just like talking and I've had So Many thoughts about it over the last few months, I just need to get them all out lol

everything is under the cut (it's Very Long) ↓↓↓

Initial Thoughts

I started planning the comic in January, around the time the chapter with the second user's plan to transfer ofa to shigaraki came out. I remember feeling so anxious and sad seeing how devastated Deku was to lose the 'gift' that All Might had passed to him :'((

It made me start thinking about what it would be like to not only go from having all this insane power at your fingertips back to nothing, but also how it would feel to lose the vestiges, which had been his advisers, yapping in his ear and keeping him company for months. How it would feel to go from constantly having people looking over your shoulder back to silence.

Then I thought about what that would mean for his and Bakugou's relationship, which has developed so much over the series. How Bakugou would feel about Deku no longer having ofa, how the two of them would wrestle with old feelings now that Deku would be quirkless again. Bakugou having to face the kid he bullied and Deku going back to a state where the world saw him as "useless" with dreams too big for somebody without a quirk.

I feel like sometimes it's not really taken into account how Deku's past affects him in the present, and that goes for in the actual series as well. Considering he's the main character, it's funny that we never really get too much of a peak inside his mind lol, especially not recently, which is most likely intentional, but I digress.

What I really wanted to do for this comic was circle back to Deku's question to All Might at the start of the series, "can I become a hero without a quirk" because while yes, deku can be a hero, he had to get a quirk to do so. So what happens now that he no longer has it? After all of Bakugou and Deku's development, would Bakugou's opinion on deku pursuing his dreams while quirkless change?

I really didn't want that answer to be no. I didn't want to believe that Deku would have to give up and "be realistic" again, it just didn't feel right for that to be the answer after 400 chapters.

So I wanted to make something that would encapsulate those thoughts! And I felt like the best way to fully get that out was through a scene in the aftermath of the battle, the two of them in the hospital with nothing to do but talk about their feelings.

It was important to me that the doubts they both felt about the future were stomped out, and for there to be reassurance that things between them wouldn't snap back to how it was before UA. That Deku could still reach his dreams even if they did become harder to obtain.

I also felt like narratively it would be a good parallel if Bakugou were to lose something tied to his power too, and with his arm being so bad off in canon, I thought it made sense that there was a chance he could lose it forever.

So it's like they're both coming out of the final battle worse off with huge losses, but no matter what, they're going to fight to achieve their dreams, and they're going to do it side by side :')

At its core, it’s very self indulgent lmao, I didn’t think that we’d get something that sappy and gross in canon (😳) so I wanted to make something for myself :')

Planning

So then I made a first draft!

When I’m making bigger comics, thumbnails are super helpful! They help me see the full picture of what it could look like, and let me change things without putting in too much commitment. So most of the drawings are loose, but occasionally I’ll put in a little extra detail into things that I want to make sure are included in the final work.

There’s three main things I consider when thumbnailing for comics; expression, composition, and dialogue. Each of these things have a huge influence on each other, so keeping them all in mind when roughing out your drawings is important!

How it usually works is I play out the scene in my head like a movie and roughly come up with dialogue, then I draw characters and expressions based on that dialogue and the visions I had. Simultaneously I plan out approximately where those drawings will go/how much space they'll take up and finally, I add in the dialogue and move things around as needed so everything fits nice together.

Having the dialogue there in the draft lets me know around how big the speech bubbles are gonna be which is a massive help when figuring out paneling. It lets me plan around the bubbles and make sure nothing is too squished!

General tips:

Something I learnt from storyboarding is that establishing a setting for your scene at the start is really important! Most of my comics will start with a long shot or include one early on for this reason. It’s good for making sure readers aren’t confused on where everything is taking place!

Having a variety of shots is good for keeping your story engaging! This comic has a lot of closeups, but I tried to add variety where I could and used a lot of different angles to keep things entertaining even if there isn't that much going on

Final thoughts on this draft:

At this stage, the ending was really different from the final version I ended up with. It was a lot more focused on Bakugou's losses too and the vibe was kinda "well we're both nerfed now but that's chill we can still be heroes." I axed most of that cause I thought it was dumb and wasn’t really the conclusion I wanted lol

After the rough draft, I started sketching everything out and adding in panels based on the composition from the og thumbnails. I also changed the dialogue as I went, focusing on making it sound more natural and easy to read.

This is where the nuances in movement and expression became a bit more refined and speech bubbles where better planned out.

At this stage, establishing clarity and imagining how readers are going to move their eye along the page is really important. Comics are generally read left to right, but you can’t just assume people are going to automatically read it in the order you want, which is why panels and speech bubble locations are so important.

Tips:

A general rule is that along with going from left to right, speech bubbles should be in descending order. This can be broken a bit, but it’s important to remember that the rule is there in the first place for clarity's sake. So if you do plan on breaking it, make sure it's not at the sacrifice of legibility. The human eye is lazy and will jump to whatever seems most logical, so planning things out in a confusing manner is going to make your comic hard to read!

This is another thing I picked up from storyboarding, but keeping in mind the 180° rule is good for clarity as well! In the simplest of terms, if you have two characters in a scene, it’s good to keep character A on one side and character B on the other, and not switch those sides willy-nilly, otherwise it can get confusing. This isn't as important in comics as it is in film/television, but I still like keeping it in mind.

Final thoughts:

I hated the original ending but I couldn't exactly figure out how I wanted it to go, and I was too busy at that point to dedicate the time I needed towards it, so it stayed as these four panels for while :’)

During the period I stopped working on it, Deku lost his arms which had me panicking lmao, so much of the comic was devoted to his emotions and body language, specifically in his hands. I just went "am I gonna have to redo everything? Do I give him prosthetics?" and I was fully ready to rework the entire thing but Eri came in clutch for Deku (and me) <3

After Deku started getting hurt, I didn't really like the idea of him being discharged and sitting with a still injured Katsuki, and wanted it to be clear that they were both still in the hospital, so I had to axe poor Deku's "hospital gown" shirt for actual hospital garb </3

At some point during april-ish, I finally added in a new beginning and end, which took the comic from four pages to seven. I felt like the new parts added a lot more levity and humour which were needed, and I think it helped make Izuku and Katsuki feel closer than before.

For these pages, I skipped the thumbnail stage and jumped straight into full page stuff, which felt easier because they were kind of just add-ons.

Something I specifically liked were the first two panels in the last page. Fun fact, but a few days after I sketched those out, horikoshi released that art of to two of them smiling together and I went !! That's the vibe I wanted !! Me and Horikoshi are on the same wavelength! That was a good day lmao.

At this point, though, while new parts added a lot more to the story and brought it closer to the vibe I wanted, they also messed with the tone and overall pacing and it ended up feeling really off. Deku was now doing this weird 180 from being super sad and upset to then immediately joking around and goofing off with no acknowledgement of anything Katsuki was saying, which had been fine enough when it was just 4 panels, but very off-putting once I made the comic longer

...So I decided to add even more panels :')

I went back to my original ideas, and part of what I wanted to get across originally was the doubts about Izuku's future from here on out, and the worry that things would go back to how they were before he got ofa. I realized those initial things which had fueled the comic were no longer really part of it, and I wanted to change that.

When I thought up the idea of visuals surrounding their middle school selves, I felt so smart LMAO. I think it ended up being the thing that brought the entire comic together.

Izuku reverting back to that anxious, unconfident state, spiralling into himself, and mumbling out all his insecurities, including his fears about losing Katsuki's friendship (and yet still somehow more worried about Katsuki's feelings than his own). And in turn, Katsuki remembering and seeing Izuku as that kid again, and his own fears of becoming a bully once more.

It better explored what I wanted to originally get across and delved more into their feelings, so that the jokes and levity at the end felt like they were earned, rather than being a rapid shift in tone.

(The only other thing that changed was the some of the panels in the first page. I changed up the speech bubbles and got rid of a panel so it would be less cramped and easier to read.)

At this point, I was still having trouble figuring out how to tie everything in and segway pages 6-7 into the ending organically, so it sat like this for around a month.

Then chapter 423 released and the battle was over and I realized how little time I actually had to get the comic out. I knew that the next chapter could possibly make my entire comic obsolete, so I hauled ass :D

These were the final plans before I cleaned everything up! I changed around some of the panels to make the story flow better, I figured out how to tie everything in, and I finalized the dialogue!

At this point all the panelling was redone because I wanted more space in between them. Before, it felt really cramped and I think adding in more breathing room made it feel slightly less overwhelming for readers.

The biggest changes from the previous draft:

First, obviously, I finished the middle school stuff and figured out how to get from one part to the next. This was the hardest part of the planning, but I ended up deciding that Deku would spiral, Bakugou would kind of bring him out of that, they'd hug and then Bakugou would reassure him. I also included motifs relating to their childhood to be reminiscent of The Apology, and Katsuki's thoughts going back to them sharing the special All Might cards, them at the lake, etc. As if this was another healing moment for each part of them; their current selves, their MS selves, and their childhood selves too

I then changed some of the panels in the first page. I switched the direction of the diagonal line in the first few panels because I thought it made it more clear which way to start reading and made the comic flow better.

In the fourth page, I added a panel after Deku starts crying, because I felt like it worked better with the dialogue, and brought in more of Katsuki's POV into the story

The sixth page doesn't really look different, but there was a lot of resizing going on panel-wise. The bottom panel doesn't take up as much space and the panels up top are a little bigger

The final big change was the eighth page. I added in an extra panel and changed up a lot of expressions/dialogue so there was more of a natural transition between the heartfelt moments and the two goofing off

I then made some final changes and drawover notes before I started a week of cleanup and colouring!

Cleanup/Colouring Stage

Cleaning up my sketches usually just means duplicating the layer, putting the original layer at 5% opacity and.. cleaning it until it looks nice lol. It's the easiest way for me to work because I hate doing lineart.

This is what my sketch vs final usually looks like. The biggest change was adding in bandages into all the drawings lol.

For speech bubbles, I drew them all by hand, created a flat colour layer underneath in white, duplicated that and filled it in with black and shifted it with the transformation tool to make a drop shadow effect.

It took me two days to colour the whole thing :')

Usually when I colour, I work in a pretty painterly way, but I thought flats/cell shading would be a lot faster for this. I was right but it still took Very Long.

The smartest thing I did was put colour swatches of each colour I was using on a separate layer above everything else so I could easily use the eyedropper and get the right colour without having to reference them from another page. It was a big time saver!

I colour all on a single layer so I don't have progress photos to show, but for each drawing, I roughly added in all the colours in the approximate locations they'd be, and once I did that for every single panel, I went back and cleaned them up one by one.

And that's that! After colouring was done, I added my signature, posted it, and took the nap of the century.

Final, Final Thoughts

I worked... Very Hard to get the comic out before leaks night and even if it was just a few hours, I'm so glad I was able to do it cause when I saw the actual chapter I lost my mindddd

I feel like as the comic progressed, Katsuki's feelings took a backseat and if I was to redo it, I'd probably put a bit more emphasis on that than I did in the final version. I feel like his ~inner turmoil~ didn't fully come through the way I wanted it to. I didn't want it to be an immediate acceptance — I wanted the fact that he was struggling with his past to be evident too — but with the focus being so heavily on Izuku, Katsuki's inner thoughts get a bit lost which is too bad </3 Good thing is Horikoshi had the exact opposite idea as me, so it all worked out :D

I'm really proud of how the comic turned out, and I'm so happy to have gotten such a positive response to it! Thank you for reading if you got this far and thank you for reading my silly self-indulgent hospital comic :)

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is he's deeply in love with his wife who likes to be adventurous in the bedroom. And the bad news from the mechanic? He'd actually rather not mention that to you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal play, anal sex, fluff, mentions of mission details

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Bradley! What did you do?!"

Your shitty little car's center console was loose, propped up by Bradley's booted foot like it was on a hinge. If he moved his foot up, the whole thing went with it. "I didn't do anything," he replied, removing his foot and letting the large piece of your car interior settle back down like he was completely innocent here. 

You reached up from his lap and moved the console with your hands, and you gasped at the result. "You destroyed it!" Then you lifted it up higher and turned back to him with flashing eyes. "I can see the ground through the gigantic hole in my car!"

He winced. If you were upset when your car ended up in the shop last year while he was using it, you'd almost certainly be even more pissed off because of this. "I'll take it to my mechanic on Monday. He fixed it for you last time."

You nodded with some uncertainty, but you wrapped him up in your arms and kissed him. "Yeah... he fixed it last time. I'm just happy you're home. I made Marry Me Rooster and birthday cake for you." Bradley was practically panting at the feel of your fingers pushing back through his hair again. "And we can relax all day tomorrow." 

For the first time in a week, he felt calm and sated. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off a bit, and right now he was exhausted. It was nearly midnight. His birthday was almost over. But if you wanted him to eat dinner and have cake with you at one in the morning, he would. 

"Let's go home," he whispered. With one more kiss, you opened the back door and climbed off of his lap. When Bradley went to follow suit, he hit his head on the door frame and nearly landed on his face. "Fuck," he grunted, rubbing the top of his head. Great. Your car was poised and ready for revenge. He was going to offer to drive just in case there was something truly wrong with the thing, but he was a little afraid. He asked anyway. "You want me to drive?"

You just gave him a look. "I think you've done enough, Roo. And even though I love you, my car does not."

"That's fair." He kissed your forehead and yawned as he walked around to the passenger side. The engine started up for you without any issue, but it took you and him both pulling on the shifter to get it into reverse. And then your car made a horrible loud noise as you backed out of the parking spot. 

Bradley had a very bad feeling about this.

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

It took you twice as long to get home as it should have. Your car sounded like it was begging for mercy every time you so much as tapped the gas pedal. It was a strage, loud whirring sound, and Bradley was looking at you with big, innocent baby cow eyes. 

There was a gap between the center console and the floor of your car, and you wondered how on earth he managed to push on it hard enough to rip it clean off like that. It was almost comical. You husband was huge, and he'd apparently put all of his size into fucking you just right. 

You laughed as you pulled into the driveway next to the Bronco. "So you're not too mad?" he asked quietly as he helped you push the shifter again.

"I'm not mad," you promised. "Your mechanic can fix it next week. We'll just need to share the one car until then."

Bradley leaned in to kiss you and said, "I will take care of it, Sweetheart." 

Once you made it to the front door, his lips were all over your neck as you tried to unlock it. He was being sweet and soft now even though you were sure he could tell you were flustered with need again. Even the rough fabric of his duffel rubbing against your leg was almost too much. "I love you," he murmured against your earlobe as you finally pushed the door open. But you could tell he was tired, and you weren't the only one who was excited to see him. 

Tramp came bounding out onto the porch, whimpering and whining as Bradley knelt and got his face licked. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he told the dog as he carried him inside. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Tramp kept running to his leash and begging, but Bradley said, "I'm not taking you for a walk in the middle of the night. We can go tomorrow."

"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so excited to feed your husband when it was so late. But you made a huge batch of Marry Me Rooster, and of course he insisted he wanted his birthday meal. 

"I'm always hungry for this and for you," he said, pulling you onto his lap at the dining room table. He took a bite of chicken and grunted softly, and you leaned in to kiss along his cheekbone as he chewed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he was going to need to rest tomorrow.

"You want to tell me about your super secret special mission?" you asked him while he ate. He took a few more bites and set his fork down with a sigh before he answered. 

His voice was careful as he said, "I really can't say much, even to you."

Your eyebrows shot up and your hands shook a little as you played with his hair. "Was it successful?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, which took the chill out of your body. "We had to... aid in hostage retrieval."

"Oh my god," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his chest and snuggling against him. You knew better than to ask for any more details than that. If the stakes were that high, no wonder he came back a bit of a needy mess. You could just imagine him on the aircraft carrier after completing his flight, adrenaline thrumming through his body. You rubbed your hand along his side as he finished the rest of the food on his plate.

"Thanks for my birthday dinner."

You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're home. Do you want to save the cake and your present for tomorrow?"

"Please." His voice was soft, and his eyes closed against the feel of your fingers. You led him to the bedroom, taking the time to dig his toothbrush out of his duffle so he could get ready for bed. His new notebook was in there as well, and you flipped through it to see that he'd filled about a third of it up with his writing. But you could save that for later. 

You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it in the hamper as Bradley walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Ready for bed?" you asked, standing there completely naked. He just examined every inch of you, his eyes taking you in. It never really occurred to you to be self conscious around him, and when he brought his hand up to rub his cock through his boxer briefs, your lips parted on a soft sound. 

He slowly raised his left hand which was hanging at his side, and as soon as he pointed at the bed, you were in it. Bradley stepped out of his underwear and left them in the middle of the floor, his hand wrapped around his cock as he climbed right on top of you. "Yeah?" he rasped with a grin. You supposed even through his exhaustion, he still had a little left in the tank for you, and you couldn't help but smile up at him. 

"Yes." You spread your legs wide, and he buried himself inside you, uncaring that he'd filled you up barely two hours ago and left you a mess. He was doing it again, and he was doing it oh so well.  

"Missed you," he whispered, the snap of his hips making you moan. "Missed our bed and your body and your pretty face." You watched as he took his silicone ring off and tossed it aside while he fucked you. Then his lips dipped down to your breasts before they found his wedding band where it rested against the front of your neck on your chain. 

He fucked you until he came, kissing and licking the ring, bucking his cum deeper inside you with his eyes closed. You rolled him onto his back and sat up with him still buried deep. He was all soft smiles and comically boneless limbs beneath you as he stroked your thighs. "Can I have my ring?"

You reached for the clasp of your chain and slid it past your pretty charms. Then you secured your necklace once more before reaching for his left hand. You slipped it on his finger and kissed him there as he caressed your cheek. But his eyes were already closed, and he was sound asleep by the time you went to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

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

When Bradley opened his eyes, his stomach was growling so loudly, he thought that might have been what woke him up. He was so damn comfortable, finally back in his own bedroom. "Baby Girl?" he rasped, wanting to just go back to sleep, but needing you with him. 

Then he noticed the absolutely delicious smell coming from the kitchen and groaned. His stomach was growling so much, it hurt as he climbed out of bed and stretched. He found you a moment later cooking pancakes and bacon while sipping some coffee in his old UVA shirt. Tramp was on the floor begging his little heart out. When you saw Bradley you smiled, and he wrapped himself around you from behind, enveloping you in his arms. He could tell you were still fresh from your shower, and Bradley couldn't get enough.

"Are you hungry?" you whispered as he kissed along your neck. 

"Starving," he replied, stomach growling loudly. "And I missed you in bed."

You rubbed yourself back gently against his naked body as you said, "You can rest and eat all day today. We've got nothing planned. I thought I'd feed you breakfast and let you take a long shower and then a nap."

He sighed next to your ear, feeling completely relaxed. This was all he really needed right now. You and he had worked on every little detail of your marriage until you were on the same page about what was important. The successful completion of Operation Loophole had him feeling pretty good about going back to base tomorrow. But today, the only thing he wanted was you. 

You sat perched on his thigh as you finished your coffee while he ate. "What did I miss here while I was gone?"

"Just Jake almost fucking things up completely," you replied, biting into a piece of toast. "Oh, and I'm trying to get Bob to move in with Maria."

"The fuck?" he asked with a laugh. "As in, Bob would move into your old bedroom?"

"Yep."

"Sweetheart. Your old bedroom? We did some fucking  nasty stuff in there together."

You erupted into laughter. "He doesn't need to know that."

Bradley looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm sure he already does."

"Poor Bob." You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Do you want some birthday cake for dessert?"

"I get dessert after breakfast?" he asked, somehow perking up even more over this perfect homecoming.

"You get whatever you want for your thirty seventh birthday," you replied as you stood and headed for the kitchen, letting Bradley see a peek of your gorgeous ass beneath his shirt. And in that instant, it was the only thing he wanted. He groaned and let his head tip back. 

"Fuck." His heart was beating a little faster as he thought about tasting you there, touching you and fucking you there. You'd let him put his mouth anywhere he wanted last year on his birthday, and during your honeymoon, he'd enjoyed that particular part of your body again. But his cock was twitching, and now he was kind of mad you'd just proverbially offered up anything his horny heart desired. Because he was going to have to ask you for it. 

There was no way you didn't notice he was half hard when you walked back in holding a confetti cake with your other hand behind your back. "Oh. My favorite. Thanks." His voice was bland as you set it down in front of him before pulling a lemon cake from behind your back. 

"I was just messing with you with the confetti cake," you said with a laugh, bouncing back into the kitchen again. This time Bradley landed a little smack on your ass that left you giggling and looking at him over your shoulder in surprise. "I said the confetti cake was a joke, Roo," you told him with a wink.

This time when you came back, you had one single birthday candle and a lighter along with two forks. As you stuck the candle in the lemon cake and lit it, he asked, "Are you going to sing to me?"

"Of course," you whispered, kissing his cheek before settling on his thigh, your hip grazing his cock. Then you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, licking and kissing along his scars as you sang to him like you were Marilyn Monroe and he was JFK. You were giggling and enjoying yourself, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but Bradley hoisted you up to straddle both of his legs as you finished singing.

You gave him a little squeak as you settled against his cock, and he got his mouth on yours right away. He ran his hand up under your shirt to where your Rooster tattoo was and caressed you there, but he was cupping your ass with his other hand. "Roo," you moaned into his mouth as he teased both of your holes. "You're still all keyed up, Daddy?"

"A little," he told you, surprised to find that he was again. He blew out his birthday candle which had burned almost all the way down, while he kept his fingers on you. 

"You want your cake or your present?" you asked softly. 

"Aren't you my present?" 

You smirked. "I got you something else, too."

"I want it."

When you climbed off his lap, Bradley reached for you, but you were already walking toward the bedroom. "Take a shower, Roo. I'll get it ready for you."

So Bradley stood under the stream of water, first cold and then hot. He was afraid to touch himself too much, because he really needed you. And his curiosity was piqued. What did you get for him? And why did you need to get it ready? 

Oh. He had asked you for another calendar. Another sexy pinup calendar featuring you, you and you. "Shit," he grunted, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the conditioner was out before turning off the water. He barely dried himself off before charging back into the bedroom. He was about to call for you when you popped up behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 

"Close them," you commanded. "And no peeking."  

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, going slightly crazy at your touch. You let go of his face, and he kept his eyes closed as you guided him by his shoulders until he was pretty sure he was standing in the bedroom doorway looking out into the hallway. Then you placed something in his hands.

He heard you cackle as you let go of him and said, "Okay, you can open your eyes and unwrap your gift, but don't turn around. 

Bradley had the pretty red and yellow wrapping paper off in a flash, and it fell near his feet as he moaned. He read the cover out loud. "The Bronco and Baby Girl." Oh fuck. He'd never make it through this thing. 

"Okay, now open it to January," you called out from behind him. He did, and it was a photo of you laying on the hood of the Bronco in the red bikini from the honeymoon. "Do you like it?"

"I fucking love it," he promised, his eyes roaming the high quality photograph. You looked like a real model, there was no doubt about that. "It's stunning."

You laughed and said, "Now look at February." He flipped the page and moaned at the sight of you sitting in the driver's seat wearing your skimpy red lingerie. "Now tell me which month you like better."

He flipped back and forth between the two before ultimately saying, "February. And it's a fucking shame it doesn't have thirty one days, honestly."

Your laughter filled the room and made him smile as he looked at March. You were wearing his aviators and little else. "You still like February?"

"Shit. I might like March the best now."

"How about April?" you asked, and Bradley was having a lot of fun with this game. 

"Oh, that's nice," he remarked at the photo of you bent over his tailgate. He was currently having an existential crisis over your ass, and this wasn't helping. 

"Why don't you keep going until you get to your favorite one, and then you can turn around."

"Alright," Bradley said, clearing his throat as he turned to May, which was one of you wearing the little dress you had on when you picked him up last night. You were laying on the backseat, and your tits looked like they were going to come free from the fabric. 

But when he turned to June, you were topless. You were sitting in the back on the tailgate with your hands tucked behind your head wearing nothing but the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. You were facing the side with your upper body turned toward the camera. Your back was arched, your tits were jutting out, and your nipples were hard. The photo also somehow captured the perfect shape of your ass, and it was quite possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 

"June," he announced. "It's June, Baby Girl. It's my favorite one." And when he turned around, you were on the bed posed exactly like you were in the calendar, but you were smirking. Because you knew him. You knew he'd stop on June. You knew he'd fucking short circuit over that particular one. And now it was right in front of him in real life. 

He tossed his calendar carefully onto the dresser as he inched forward, looking at you in those denim shorts at every angle as you bit your lip. "I knew you'd pick June," you whispered, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Then he ran his palm down along your spine until his hand was on your ass. 

"You know me so well," he rasped, climbing onto the bed with you. "Thanks for my calendar." He licked your right nipple before pulling your left one between his lips and sucking gently. You whined his name, and your hands were immediately in his hair. 

"You're welcome," you gasped your hips rolling as he cupped your pussy gently through your shorts. He worked the button open and unzipped them as he kissed his way up to your neck, and you asked him, "Any special requests, birthday boy?"

But you knew. Somehow you fucking knew. You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard and wiggled your ass at him until he pulled your shorts down and helped you out of them. And then that was it. You were bare for him. He ran his hands up your soft thighs and up along your butt. He kissed you all over before he got on his knees and leaned his body over yours until his lips were right next to your ear.

"I do have a request."

He felt you shiver as he bucked involuntarily against your core. "Tell me." 

You turned your head to look at him. His voice was a harsh whisper. "I want your ass, Baby Girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips back against him, nearly sending him through the roof. "What do you want to do?"

He kissed your cheek and tried to take a deep breath. "I want to do anything that you want to do. And if you don't want to do anything, then that's fine, too." He was panting as he kissed along your shoulder and your back, unable to stop himself from pressing against you over and over.

"Do you want to fuck me in the ass, Roo?" you asked so sweetly, he thought he was going to black out. "Because if so, you need to get the lube from the nightstand. And you need to go very slow. And you need to stop if I tell you it hurts."

"Holy fucking hell," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your tits and your belly. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He practically fell off the bed in his excitement. Other than using your toys, you and he had never done this together or separately, but he was ready to go. You didn't even look hesitant as you folded your arms on the pillow and let your head come to rest as you spread your legs a little wider. "It's like your birthday tradition now," you said with a little laugh as he dug around for the lube. 

"Wonder what you'll let me have next year," he asked, kissing your lips before climbing back on the bed with the small tube. He needed to calm down, so he angled himself to get at your pussy with his mouth from behind. Within seconds, he had you gasping for him, and his mustache was soaking wet. He licked you up and down, swirling his tongue around one hole before slowly dragging it to the other. Your hips were held firmly in his hands as you rolled back against him for more pressure, crying out when you let you have it only on his terms. 

"Bradley!" you whined. 

"Shh," he whispered, licking along your pussy with a grin. "On your birthday, you can have whatever you want."

You were going to be tight. Even as he painted you up with your own wetness, and worked the tip of his thumb into your asshole, watching the stretch with fascination as you groaned his name, he could tell. He grunted as he flipped open the lube and coated his cock with it, never taking his lips off you.

"I'm so close," you moaned, pressing yourself back against his mouth as he played with your clit. And when you eventually came for him, he brought his slick hand up and worked his thumb a little deeper this time. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing your lower back and pausing. 

"No. Keep going."

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

It took Bradley a while even though you were relaxed from your orgasm. It didn't hurt, but you needed him to go slow so you could be sure of this new sensation. First his thumb. Then his cock. 

"Oh my god," you whined, your eyes squeezed shut at just how full you were. You could feel the cool drizzle of lube hitting your body before your husband's hands returned to your hips in the gentlest caress. The stretch was almost too much as he moaned and whispered your name behind you over and over again. "Go slow," you reminded him when his thrusts started coming faster, and he took care of everything you needed.

Bradley's words were becoming unintelligible. He said something about his birthday before he told you he loved you. The soft glide from the extra lubrication was aided as you flattened your back out, and then Bradley gasped, "It feels so good. Too fucking good."

When he pushed a little deeper, you grunted, ready to tell him that was far enough. But you didn't need to worry. You could feel him slowly easing back out of you until that foreign feeling of being filled to the brim eased up and then vanished. Bradley yanked your body up so you were standing on your knees in front of him. His sweaty forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he panted and vigorously jerked off, his hand working along his cock between your body and his. 

"Sweetheart," he moaned as he coated up your back and butt with his cum. "Fuck. Fuck!" He felt him run his hand through the sticky mess before he wrapped his big arms around to the front of you.

"Did you like that?"

He took a few deep breaths before his lips and mustache were tickling your ear. "I love everything we do together. I love you."

You felt warm all over from his words and his body, and he held you tight for a long time just like that as he caught his breath. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, slipping off the bed and pulling you carefully with him. You didn't feel sore, exactly. You were just more aware of everything as you moved slowly. 

"No," you promised, shaking your head at him. He helped you pull on his UVA shirt before he carried you back to the kitchen. "I'm just a little tired. You wear me out more than my toys do."

He laughed as he set you down and took the leftover Marry Me Rooster out of the refrigerator. "I feel like your butt is for special occasions?"

Now you were laughing. "Like your birthday?" 

"Yeah. Like my birthday. Now let's eat together and have my cake and take a bath. Then maybe you can replicate the rest of the calendar photo poses for me to see in person?"

"Oh. You really liked that."

"I really liked that."

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

Bradley held you against his chest in the bathtub. It was late now, and the bathroom was lit by one single candle in the darkness as he sang to you. He was relaxed, soothed by the feel of your hand on his thigh, and when you turned and smiled up at him, he kissed you. 

"Don't forget, my parents are coming in a few days."

He'd already forgotten. The special mission and then coming home to you had clouded his brain and made him a little shortsighted, but not in a bad way. He loved your parents. "Right," he said with a nod. "Sounds good."

"And we'll have to leave earlier tomorrow morning so you can follow me to the mechanic."

He'd forgotten about that, too. Fuck. Your car was your favorite possession. Bradley truly did not understand the appeal, but you'd had the stupid thing forever. "Sure," he grunted, already nervous again. You nuzzled his cheek and then stood in front of him, and he leaned in to kiss along your ass while you giggled. 

Today had been perfect. Last night, too. Other than breaking your car, Bradley was just happy to be home. It didn't really matter to him that you'd given him a little birthday celebration and agreed to try something new in bed, being with you was the most important thing. You and he had spent a lot of time apart over the past year and a half, and he was hoping that the successful mission might help shape the trajectory of his career to make things a little easier in that regard. Especially if you did get pregnant on your own, or if a conversation about alternative options took place in the future.

Bradley eventually fell asleep with you draped across his chest. He read to you from his new notebook, but he skipped the pages about his dream where you were pregnant. It felt like too much for tonight. He turned the light off, and your hand found his tattoo like it was a magnet for you. Even though he was exhausted, his mind was swirling as he tried to fall asleep. 

Monday morning was a rush to get out of the house on time, and when you started your little piece of shit car on the driveway, it made such a distressing sound, Bradley almost insisted you get it towed instead. But you backed it out onto the road, and he followed you to his mechanic. 

"I'm scared," you told him when you dropped the keys off at the front desk. "It sounds really sick this time." He had to kiss away the crease along your brow.

"Let's just play it by ear," he told you, taking your hand and leading you back to the Bronco. He patted your ass in your uniform pants as you climbed in, and he buckled your seatbelt. "How are you feeling today anyway?" he asked with a smirk that you kissed off his face. 

"If you're referring to my butt, I'm a little sore," you told him, running your fingers along his scars. "But I'll be interested in the next special occasion." He climbed in with you and gave you sloppy kisses as you laughed. "Roo! We'll be late for work. I have a meeting with Bickel at nine."

"Aww, you can be late. Just tell him we were talking about your ass."

"Bradley," you snorted. "I will not."

He kissed you one more time before climbing off of you and closing the door. The drive to base was short, and you held his hand the whole way. He had to keep turning the radio volume up as you sang along badly, but you just kept getting louder with it. 

"You're a nightmare," he informed you when he parked and killed the engine. "And god, I fucking love you so much." The way you kissed him made him want to put the key back in the ignition and drive you home to bed. Your hand was just about on his cock in his khakis when you pulled away. 

"Gotta run!" He watched you stroll off toward the side entrance, waving at him coyly over your shoulder as he adjusted himself and headed for the locker room. 

Bradley's day was going great. He was happy to see Nat, and he was looking forward to having lunch with you if you could get away from your lab. But when he checked his phone around noon as he walked to the cafeteria, he had a new voicemail from the mechanic. He could see you in line for your burrito bowl as you chatted with Bob. He could practically hear you laughing as he played the message and cringed.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."

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

Oop. I can see the tears flowing already. Fix this, Bradley. Parents are visiting soon. So many things are happening soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

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[genericpuff]

So I watched ChattyMia's Lore Olympus video which was great and everyone should watch it. It seems most people who do series reviews of the Lore Olympus don't like the comic for obvious reasons. Then I was reminded by the end that the comic is expecting a TV series which is in development hell. It made me think that Rachel might be better off not having a Lore Olympus TV show. Most praise for the series died awhile ago as the story became an utter mess. If it did get a TV show, people will see the early red flags like the age gap, the treatment of Minthe, trying to excuse cheating, Hades horrible behavior to workers, nymphs being discriminated with no pushback, etc. If some of them read the comic for spoilers they would later see the other big red flags of the series. Excusing slave labor, Persephone threatening the lower class, Hera getting with Echo a 'trash nypmh' as she once called Minthe, Apollo gets community service, the continued mistreatment of Demeter etc. Which I feel will cause everyone to go 'wtf is this series? 50 Shades of Grey mixed with Keeping Up with the Kardashians?'. Then you have to wonder if some of them will do a deep dive and find the stuff about Rachel's tie to Lolita. It would be especially bad if a bigger content creator talked about it. And we already know Rachel doesn't handle criticism the best (i.e. the struggle street tweet, the Minthe cosplay situation or even the merch). So I could only imagine how much worse it would be for her if Lore Olympus got a TV show and more eyes got drawn to it and her. It would no longer be just confided to the web comics fanbase but the much larger TV one. Unless Rachel seriously considered rewriting the TV script (or rekindling it lol) I don't see how a TV adaptation of her show would be good press for her.

Yess I've seen that video, it's great! She did a great job summarizing a lot of the biggest core issues with LO's story and art without getting too lost in the sauce (though god knows the rabbithole of LO's issues runs INCREDIBLY deep in an equally fascinating and "oh god what the fuck did I just read' kind of way), her video editing was very entertaining and her Persephone cosplay was a great touch 😎

That said, regarding the thought of "most people who do series reviews of LO don't like the comic", there is an amount of bias we have to acknowledge there - there's often a lot more to say in the negative rather than the positive. By extension, people who simply enjoy LO and don't participate much in the online discussion surrounding it or the discourse concerning it are less likely to make 2 hour videos analyzing it. So while the popular opinion of LO has shifted more towards a negative point of view, that doesn't mean that fans of the comic don't exist - it's just that most of those fans are blissfully enjoying the comic and can only sum it up as "it's very pretty and the plot is great", whereas many people who didn't enjoy it are more likely to voice their opinions as to why in far more explicit detail (though on the flipside of that, it also goes to show that there's a lot more to analyze in LO's flaws than its strengths - it's ironic that the fans often don't have much to say beyond "it's cute" or "I relate to Persephone" and anything further than that is relegated to pure headcanon pieced together by assumption and best guesses to make up for Rachel's lack of writing).

All that aside though, regarding the TV adaption, at this point it's less a matter of reception and more a matter of relevancy. The perfect time to release or at least show us proof of the LO TV show was years ago, when the comic was at its peak between 2020-2021. The second best time was at last year's NYCC when Rachel was a headlining guest. The fact they still had nothing to show for it at this year's NYCC, with Rachel nowhere to be seen and instead focusing more on the Freaking Romance adaption with Snailords filling the role as their featured guest (an equally if not even more problematic creator), is astounding, but unsurprising.

To me, LO feels like a real life case of "Tortoise and the Hare". Back at the start of it all, in 2017-2018, it was doing what no other comic on the platform was doing, presenting us a retelling of the Hades and Persephone story - which was very popular on Tumblr at the time - through a modern setting and with art that was incredibly unique for the platform. That, paired with WT's aggressive marketing, propelled it far ahead every other comic on the platform, creating a gap so massive that even the comics in second place on the trending tabs still weren't even close to LO's lead in terms of stats and money.

But then it got complacent. Quality of the comic's writing and art dropped, it was becoming increasingly obvious that LO had become no more than a marketing grift akin to the likes of Harry Potter - easily turned into books, t-shirts, socks, coloring books, figures, etc. - and that gave way to an increase of criticism towards it, criticism that had always somewhat existed even as far back as its days on Tumblr, but was now amplified by the existing ongoing proof that LO was never all it was cracked up to be.

Now, at best they shill $200+ figurine pre-orders, but the show is nowhere to be seen and, with the comic now finished and locked behind Daily Pass, its relevancy is dying out. "Rachel Smythe Presents" still has nothing to show for itself, Rachel's IG and Twitter seem to be purely for merch-pushing by the Inklore team, and Rachel has, at best, two new series that she suddenly announced but, in her words, don't even have anything written or planned for them yet beyond the taglines that were thrown together for her socials.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Greek myth retelling industry is in a renaissance. Hades is still a massively popular game, with its sequel now in early access; Epic: The Musical has been making waves on Spotify and TikTok far exceeding that of LO's in terms of audience reach, and even has more to show for itself in the way of official animations than LO ever has; and now Kaos has recently launched its first season after being in production since 2018 - yes, you read that right, it got commissioned around the exact same time LO became an Originals series which suggests the idea for it was already floating around and being pitched prior to LO - and, frankly, has beaten LO at its own game by achieving everything LO set out to do - weaving a Greek epic-style story in a modern setting, balancing romance with prophecies and world-ending stakes. It took a while, but Kaos made it past the finishing line, while LO has been dragging itself behind it, still making empty promises that a TV show is "still in the works" and "coming soon", with not a single thing to show for itself.

LO may have gotten a head start in being the "sleek, modern, sexy Greek myth retelling" by the virtue of being a weekly webtoon, but slow and steady wins the race - the productions that have taken their time cooking in the oven are now coming out as beautiful and delicious as we, the guests at the table, were told would be, while LO is simply the short-term gratification junk food that bombards us with gimmicks but sits like a rock in our stomachs and leaves us unfulfilled and wishing for a better meal.

Those better meals are here now and they were absolutely worth the wait.

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 1

summary: Hunter briefs the squad on their new mission, though he’s in for a surprise of his own upon meeting the senator they’ll be protecting.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 3.932k

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

chapter 1 ⟹

“That’s it?” Echo was even less impressed than usual. His brow rose as he set a hand on his hip. “That’s the big news?”

Wrecker let out an exasperated groan of his own. “Sarge, we don’t need a break!”

Hunter’s eyebrow quirked up. “Tell that to Tech.” The sergeant gestured with his head to their squad member who was sitting just behind where he stood on the Marauder. “He still can’t walk right. I’m not throwing us into battle when we’re not all one-hundred percent.”

“Actually, I will have you know that the ligaments in my ankle have already gotten forty-two percent stronger.” Tech finally lifted his nose from his datapad and pushed his goggles up with his finger. “As you can see, I—...” Tech stood from the chair, but as soon as he placed too much pressure on his ankle, he winced. With a defeated exhale, he sunk back into the chair. “I am still healing.”

“Exactly.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chestplate. “This is still a mission, even if it’s not our usual pace.”

“As long as I have something to aim for, I’m fine with it.” Crosshair spoke without looking up from his rifle, which he was cleaning with his usual intensity.

“Well, if all goes well, you won’t.” Hunter’s prepared for the heat of Crosshair’s stern stare when it hits him. “It’s a protection job, for a senator.”

Crosshair’s response was even more snide than usual. “Isn’t that what the Coruscant Guard is for?”

“And the Jedi?” Echo added.

“On Coruscant, sure.” Hunter leaned his shoulder against the nearest interior hull and enjoyed the long moment of attentive silence he had from all four members of the squad. It was a rarity those days. “But this mission’s based elsewhere.”

Echo narrowed his eyes and spoke in a cautious tone. “Where?”

Hunter caught the gaze of all his men before answering. “Eirus.”

“Eirus is currently experiencing an intense inner crisis,” Tech somehow had the words ready for the rest of the squad straightaway, as if he knew what name was about to fall from Hunter’s tongue. “Nearly half the planet’s population is composed of fiercely loyal Separatists who have splintered into small factions. Some of these factions have become very violent in an attempt to force their senator to pledge her allegiance to their cause.”

Echo raised his brow and turned his calculated gaze from Tech back to Hunter. “This isn’t exactly an unusual thing to be happening during this war.”

“No, and that’s why most senators are staying on Coruscant longer than they used to.” Hunter’s hand slid down to his hip as he recalled the details of the short briefing. “Because of the crisis on Eirus, the senator is traveling on-world in an attempt to reach a compromise and bring an end to the violence.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Wrecker commented. He let out a hearty chuckle and shoved the shoulder of his nearest brother, who just so happened to be Crosshair. “I like this senator already!”

“She’s not the one who will have to fight if things go sideways, Wrecker,” Crosshair reminded him in his usual cool tone. The corner of his mouth began to rise as he went on. “That’s what we’ll be there for.”

“Right.” Hunter began to relax a bit as he watched the squad warm up more to the mission. “I told you it was a break because it’s a change in pace, but don’t worry boys.” Hunter pushed himself off the hull and nodded as his lips stretched in a satisfied smile. “I have a feeling we’ll still be seeing some action.”

“So, I will get to shoot something?” Crosshair cocked his rifle with a hopeful twinkle in his eye.

“And I’ll get to blow something up?” Wrecker set a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder again as he stepped forward. Crosshair shot him a disapproving look.

“That depends.” Hunter drew his blaster from his holster and flipped it a few times in his grasp, though the latter movement was subconscious. “We’re on a struck stun-only policy.”

“What?” Wrecker gasped with surprise. “Why? What if there’re droids?”

“Seeing as we are soldiers of the Republic, using live rounds on the people of Eirus would only escalate the issue the senator is trying to resolve,” Tech answered. “We would be giving the Separatist population another reason to justify their actions against the Republic.”

“And as far as our intel goes, no Separatist forces have made their way to Eirus,” Hunter added, holstering his blaster.

“Yet.” Echo spoke the word that hung in the air between the five of them.

“We’ll have a better idea of exactly what we’re up against when we get there.” Hunter shifted to face Tech. “For now, we have to head to Coruscant to meet the senator.”

Tech nodded, spinning around in the pilot’s chair to chart a course. The squad began to break off as the sergeant sat in the open co-pilot’s chair beside Tech’s. Crosshair was still adding the final touches on his rifle’s cleanliness in the seat behind Hunter’s, while Wrecker and Echo had disappeared further inside the hold.

After Tech finished inputting the coordinates, he turned to look at the sergeant. “Hunter, you know that we do not have to do this on my accord.” He looked down at his wrapped ankle. “With the bacta infusions I have been doing, my injury should be completely healed in about two rotations’ time.”

“I know, Tech.” Hunter let out a soft exhale and leaned back in his chair. He unsheathed his blade and began to twirl it around in another subconscious exercise. “We’ve just been running a lot of back-to-back missions, and obviously, it’s starting to catch up to us.”

Crosshair snorted, and Hunter’s senses didn’t need to amplify the sound to make it obvious. Hunter didn’t bother giving him a look as he focused on the movements of his knife.

“Plus, we were specifically requested for this mission.”

Tech’s brow shot up at that. “Someone selected us? For a protection job?”

“Not just ‘someone.’” Hunter gave Tech a quick glance to highlight the smirk that had begun to tug at his lips. “The senator herself.”

Tech adjusted his goggles, clearly unsure of what to do in his shock. “The senator? That’s highly unusual. Typically, it would be an individual on the senator’s personal guard who would do the necessary research to—.”

“I think Hunter knows how it works,” Crosshair huffed from his place behind them.

“You’re right though, Tech. It’s unusual.” Hunter caught the hilt of his knife and paused to fully face Tech. “It caught my curiosity. I want to know what she thinks is so special about us.”

Tech blinked at Hunter a few times. “I presume it would be our desirable genetic mutations that are, in case you were not aware, not a secret.”

“Yeah, and what does that usually cause?” Hunter sheathed his blade and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Caution and distrust. Not a personal invitation to what’s most likely the most important diplomatic mission of her political career.”

“You… have a point.” Tech lifted his datapad and began to tap around it. “I will do some more research on the senator.”

“Great.” Hunter stood and patted Tech on the shoulder before he moved out of the cockpit. 

Wrecker was already lounging in the chair by the systems console, while Echo lingered in the corner and fiddled with something on his arm. Hunter caught their attention as he stepped into their space, which made it all the more easier for him to address him.

“You boys should get some rest. We’re a long way out from Coruscant.” He nodded at Echo, who had raised his brow before he had a chance to ask his question. “I’m taking first watch.”

“Again?” Wrecker’s tone was coated in disbelief. His gaze betrayed that same emotion. “Are you actually gonna get some rest this time, Sarge?”

Hunter shrugged and offered a small smile. “Depends on how fast we get there.” He let out a sigh when Wrecker’s concern still didn’t let up. “Don’t worry about me, Wrecker. We’ll all be getting some more rest on this mission.”

That was enough for Wrecker, causing him to nod as he leaned back further in the chair and closed his eyes. His feet had already been kicked up on the console, and he was fortunate Tech hadn’t yet noticed. That wouldn’t last long.

As Hunter turned to re-enter the cockpit, he found Crosshair already standing and shouldering Tech. “We already heard you,” Crosshair assured him.

“I pulled up everything I could find on the senator,” Tech informed the sergeant, handing him the datapad with his free hand. “What I found most fascinating was the motivation behind her appointment.”

Hunter nodded at Tech in approval, and he knew better than to comment on the speed of his research. “Good work.” He looked between the two of them. “Now get some rest.”

Tech spoke to Hunter over his shoulder as Crosshair started to crutch him away. “You are aware that the brain and the body cannot properly operate on limited rest, especially with as little sleep as you have gotten in recent rotations?”

Hunter scoffed fondly to himself and called back to him. “Thanks, Tech.”

The sergeant held the datapad and made himself comfortable in the pilot’s chair. He leaned back and held up the datapad, clicking through Tech’s research. Taking his brother’s advice, Hunter first looked at the senator’s background, specifically the history of your appointment.

His eyes widened as he read the Aurebesh text in front of him. He had to agree with Tech; your ascension from rebellion leader to senator was nothing short of fascinating.

According to the history Tech had pulled up, you had been the one to organize a large group of Eirus’ population against an oppressive local regime, which had slowly taken over the planet’s government. They had covered up the assassination of Eirus’ senator, who was your relative, and withdrawn from the Republic Senate altogether. It wasn’t until your forces managed to topple their regime that you had become the planet’s senator and reestablished a relationship between Eirus and the Senate.

That only made Hunter’s curiosity ache even more. If you once had enough forces to overthrow a regime, then why did you need a Republic squadron as protection? It did, at least, speak somewhat to why their squad had been chosen. Clearly, as a soldier and tactician yourself, you had done the research to find the ideal squad for the job.

Even as his eyes began to burn from the aforementioned lack of rest his brothers had been getting on his case about, he couldn’t stop planning the ways he would pick your brain for the reason why they were the ones you needed so badly.

This kept Hunter busy for the commute. He remained on watch the entire time, only leaving his post when the Marauder was about to drop out of hyperspace. Hunter woke up the squad and instructed them to get ready, and it was no surprise that Tech was already prepared to take the helm. His ankle had healed considerably during his rest, just as he had predicted, and thus he was able to limp himself to the cockpit with a surprising amount of ease.

Hunter stayed in the co-pilot’s seat and gave Tech the information on the senator’s designated docking area. It had been a while since their last visit to Coruscant, but of course, Tech navigated the air traffic with ease. The Marauder soon began its descent onto the platform, and Hunter observed the space with a raise of his brow.

Rather than the typical red markings of the Republic, or even the white and gold accents many senators added for flair, your platform was filled with delicate swirls of green and purple. The color palette reminded him of the few lush planets he and the squad had been to on various missions, emulating the colorful overgrowth of forests and gardens. He let out an impressed huff. It seemed you were truly carving your own path in more ways than just one.

Hunter rose from his chair to collect his belongings. He secured his pack on his back and checked all his weapons before reaching for his helmet. As soon as the Marauder had fully landed, Tech did the same, and he was the last of the squad to get in formation by the hatch. After Hunter did a quick assessment of them all, he slid on his helmet and lowered the stairs.

As he led the way out, Hunter observed their surroundings more closely. They were being approached by the senator and her guards, with the man Hunter had spoken to leading in front and the others blocking the senator from view. The guards wore the same colors of green and purple as the platform, and their weapons were accented with silver.

“Sergeant,” the head guard greeted once he was in earshot. Hunter wondered if the man knew he still could have heard him at any distance. The guard stopped just a few paces away from the squad and bowed his head. “Thank you for arriving so promptly.”

Hunter removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm before repeating the man’s bow. “Captain.” He gestured with his head to his squad. “We’re just as eager to get going.”

The captain smiled. “We figured as much.”

Hunter’s eyebrow rose. “‘We?’”

The captain’s grin spread even more widely as he took a step back and gestured with his arm to the guards behind him. “Allow me to formally introduce you.” The captain announced your full name and title, and the guards standing in front of you parted to allow you to step through.

Hunter was no stranger to seeing and speaking with diplomats and leaders, from planetary royalty to the other senators of the Republic. Those types of positions always emphasized image, and thus Hunter was used to seeing some of the most conventionally attractive people in the galaxy—but this, seeing you, was the first time he ever had to audibly stifle a breath.

For once, the only heartbeat Hunter could sense was his own, the skip and then speed of it as it hammered against his armored chest.

Composure. It was a lesson he and the others all had to learn on Kamino, and it was one he had always excelled in. It was much of the reason why he had earned his rank as sergeant. This, however, was the first time he ever had to forcibly remind himself to find it.

Then he realized the strength of the skip in his heartbeat wasn’t just from his own, but also from yours. That made his mask slip for one second more before he pulled it together.

“Senator.” Hunter resisted the urge to clear his throat as he bowed his head, taking the quick moment of concealment to let the flush burn through his cheeks. It was hard to keep the sensation from persisting when he looked back up and observed that you wore the same colors as your guards.

“You must be Sergeant Hunter.” Your voice added a new layer of unfamiliar yet sweet warmth to Hunter’s chest as your lips spread in a radiant smile. You extended your hand towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

All thoughts and proper protocol dissipated from Hunter’s mind as he saw your outstretched hand in front of him. He took it without his gaze ever breaking from yours and raised it to his lips, gently kissing the soft skin on the back of your hand before offering it back to you. “The pleasure’s all ours, Senator.”

And there it was, another skip in your heartbeat. Hunter fought hard to hide his own smile as yours grew. Your gaze gave him a once-over, an action so quick Hunter would have second guessed it if he hadn’t felt its gentle burn. “I like your armor. It’s different from the other clones.”

“Yeah, well… so are we.” His words reminded him of the squad who still stood behind him, and Hunter stepped aside to make them all more visible. “Let me introduce you to the squad.” He began with Wrecker, who was closest to his side. “This is—.”

“—Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair.” You named each one of them with ease, your face beaming as you gave them all a respectful nod. “I apologize for cutting you off, Sergeant. I just… I love your squad’s work.”

Hunter blinked a few times in surprise at what he was hearing. It was rare enough for such diplomats, politicians, and royals to have even heard of his squad, much less admire what they did on the battlefield. “Well, uh… thank you, Senator.”

“That is certainly a surprising sentiment,” Tech couldn’t keep himself from adding. “Commonly, the adjectives associated with our battle strategies are… less than favorable.”

“Hah!” Wrecker elbowed Tech’s chestplate, making him wince and rub the spot with narrowed eyes. “My favorite was when that prime minister called us ‘destructive.’”

“You’re not being helpful, Wrecker,” Crosshair muttered.

“Oh, stow it, Crosshair,” Wrecker scoffed. “You’re just mad that I got the last of ‘em on that mission.”

“That’s enough.” Hunter resisted the urge to sigh at them as he turned to face you with an apologetic look.

You instead offered him a reassuring nod and a soft laugh. “I think it’s great you have some friendly competition in your squad.” You looked over them with fondness. “It breeds efficiency.”

“That’s right!” Wrecker cheered. He reached over to Crosshair to give his armored shoulder a light push. “I told you I would like her!”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one,” Echo mumbled, his words only loud enough for the squad to hear. 

Hunter tightened his jaw when he felt their gazes on him and heard Crosshair’s snickering. “If you’d like, Senator, we can lead the way in our ship.” He gestured with his free hand back to the Marauder. “Just in case there are any unwanted surprises awaiting your arrival.”

“Hopefully that’s not the case, but I’d appreciate that, Sergeant.” You smiled again and nodded. “Thank you. I look forward to working with you more closely on Eirus.” Your gaze lingered on Hunter before it looked around the squad.

“As do we.” Hunter bowed his head once more. “Tech will set up a secure comm channel for us to use once we’re on board.”

“Perfect.” Your smile was directed at Tech as you nodded at him. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You do not need to extend gratitude towards me for merely fulfilling my purpose, Senator.” Hunter couldn’t help the small eye roll he gave at Tech’s words. So much for Hunter being the one to slip up on propriety.

Hunter slid his helmet back on and began to lead the squad back to the Marauder. His face burned from both his memory of what had just happened and his anticipation of what he would be up against inside the ship. He flexed the hand that had held yours as it also burned at the memory of your touch.

Maybe Hunter was more right before than even he had known at the time. Maybe all those missions really had taken its toll on them, and maybe it was driving him down a delusional spiral. He really did need to get some rest.

As soon as the squad was on the Marauder with the hatch secured in place, Tech spoke up. “That was not the proper protocol for greeting a senator, Hunter.”

“I’m aware, Tech.” He lifted his helmet and gestured with his head to the cockpit. “Get those comms set up and chart our course.”

Tech nodded, though Hunter didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips as he limped to the cockpit. Hunter set his helmet down and ran his hand over his hair as he thought about what to do next. He had a plan before, surely; he had thought of it in hyperspace on the way to Coruscant. It had, of course, vanished for some reason.

“You seem distracted, Sarge,” Wrecker’s voice broke through Hunter’s thoughts as he grinned slyly at him.

“Come on, Wrecker,” Echo said next. His expression turned from serious to amused as his gaze found Hunter’s. “Clearly, he is distracted.”

“I’m thinking about our arrival on Eirus,” Hunter insisted.

“And your reunion with—,” Crosshair started.

“Our plan.” Hunter raised his brow, challenging them to continue. Crosshair raised his brow and fought a smile as he set a toothpick between his lips. “We don’t know what will be waiting for us when we get there.”

“You sound worried, Hunter.” Echo set a hand on his hip as he faced the sergeant. “I thought this mission was going to be a ‘break.’”

“Nah, he’s just getting protective already.” Wrecker set a hand on Echo’s shoulder and chuckled a few times.

Hunter circled his jaw and crossed his arms. “That’s the whole point of this mission. Protecting.” Hunter furrowed his brow at the men around him. “Don’t forget that.”

Echo’s brow rose as he looked over at Wrecker. “You’re right, Wrecker.” He snickered. “‘Protective.’”

Hunter rolled his eyes and turned around to walk into the cockpit. As he went, he heard Crosshair say one more thing to Echo and Wrecker. “He really does need to get some sleep. He’s gotten… cranky.”

Hunter didn’t bother throwing a glare over his shoulder as he approached Tech in the pilot’s chair. He set his hands upon the back of the chair to check on Tech’s progress. “How’s it going in here?”

“Presumably much better than it has for you out there.” Tech didn’t so much as crack a smile as he worked the controls, despite his joke that made Hunter huff with amusement. “The comm channel is fully functioning, and our course is charted. Seeing as Eirus is located in the Outer Rim, we will have another lengthy trip ahead of us.”

Hunter nodded. “Great. I’m going to get some long-awaited rest.”

“Good.” Tech looked up from the controls to give Hunter a pointed glance. “I believe it is the lack of rest that caused such a slip-up in your propriety today.”

Hunter smiled at that, and part of him wanted to believe it. “Right.” He patted Tech’s shoulder and stepped out of the cockpit. Echo brushed past him on his way to claim first watch, and Wrecker and Crosshair couldn’t keep their sly smiles contained as Hunter walked to his bunk.

As he settled in, the full weight of what had happened during your meeting began to sink in. Tech had a point, as it had to be the lack of rest that allowed him to get so carried away. There was no point in even entertaining the thought of giving in to the warmth he had felt before. Potential reciprocation wouldn’t change that.

He knew what Cut had sacrificed for Suu. As the leader of his squad, Hunter couldn’t do the same. He refused to.

And the fact he was even letting such thoughts go so far caused his face to burn with a different kind of embarrassment as he fell asleep to flashes of green and purple in his exhausted mind.

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 3.5k

chapter: 6/?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU WOKE UP FEELING better than the night before. The weight of your past still lingered, but you'd managed to shove it back into the shadows where it belonged. You weren’t going to let it consume you. Not today. Today, you were back in control.

The cuffs were still locked around your wrists, the familiar, metallic weight always present, always suppressing the power that constantly hummed beneath your skin. You never had a choice in the matter—one of the Avengers would have to unlock them for you when the time came. But it didn’t matter right now. You were used to them.

As you made your way to the briefing room, you casually let the cuffs clink together, the sound echoing down the hall. You knew it would annoy the team, which was exactly why you did it. Might as well make an entrance.

Sure enough, as you pushed the door open and stepped inside, the collective sound of groans and sighs greeted you. Tony was seated at the head of the table, eyes glued to his tablet, while Natasha, Clint, Bucky, Sam, and Steve were all scattered around the room, already deep into their discussion.

Without missing a beat, you made your presence known by dropping into an empty chair with a loud clink of your cuffs against the table. “Miss me?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you leaned back, folding your arms behind your head.

Tony didn’t even look up. “You ever enter a room without making a scene?”

“Why would I? Life’s more fun when you’re dramatic,” you quipped, tapping the cuffs together again, just to get on his nerves.

Clint shot you a glare, but it was more playful than serious. “Do you have to do that?”

You smirked. “Oh, was that bothering you? My bad.”

Steve finally stepped forward, arms crossed, looking as serious as ever. “Alright, let’s get started.”

Tony flicked a few holographic displays into the air with a casual wave of his hand. “So, as you know, our lovely friend here” —he gave a quick nod in your direction— “retrieved some decent intel from Hydra. Some of it’s encrypted, but we’ve already cracked most of it.”

You leaned back in your chair, eyes on the holograms. It was good to see the focus back on Hydra and not… well, not on you.

“Turns out,” Tony continued, “Hydra’s been working on something big. Bigger than we thought. They’ve got new tech—stuff we haven’t seen before. Weapons capable of destabilizing entire cities. It’s not just about targeting governments or military sites anymore. They want to cause mass chaos.”

Natasha leaned forward, studying the maps. “Their operations are spread thin, though. They’re pushing too hard, too fast. They can’t hold onto all this territory.”

“Which is where we come in,” Steve added, pointing to a section of the map. “We hit their key locations, cut off their supply lines, and cripple their command structure.”

“Sounds like a blast,” you said, leaning forward to get a better look at the holograms. “So, where do I get to have fun?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “Your definition of fun tends to involve blowing things up.”

“And your point?”

“Nothing,” Tony said with a smirk, swiping at the display to pull up more detailed files. “Just making sure we know what we’re dealing with.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, and for once, you didn’t feel the weight of everyone’s attention pressing down on you. No one treated you any differently—at least, not much. Steve was still all business, Natasha was her usual sharp, observant self, and Clint, well, Clint never gave you a break. That was normal.

But Bucky… there was something in the way he watched you, something that wasn’t hostility. He wasn’t glaring. He wasn’t throwing daggers at you from across the room. Instead, he seemed… curious. Not pitying, not judging. Just trying to figure something out.

You didn’t like it.

So, naturally, you shot him a grin. “What’s the matter, Barnes? Finally come around to my charm?”

Bucky blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for a split second, he looked like he didn’t know how to respond. “No.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” you said, leaning back with a fake sigh. “I thought we were making progress.”

Clint snorted. “You’ve got a weird way of measuring progress.”

“Progress is subjective,” you said, and that earned a few smirks from the team. You could feel the tension easing, and that’s how you liked it. Distractions. Jokes. Keep it light, keep it moving.

Steve pointed at another section of the map. “There’s one more thing. Hydra’s central hub for communications. It’s buried deep underground in a classified location. We’ve intercepted some chatter, and if we can hit that base, we might be able to knock out their entire intel network.”

“That’s our next target,” Natasha added, eyes sharp. “But we need to move quickly. Hydra knows we’re onto them.”

“Great,” you said, rubbing your hands together. “Can’t wait.”

As the meeting went on, you noticed something: no one brought up your past. Not a single mention of the files or your connection to Hydra. You knew they had seen it by now—they had to have. And yet, nothing. Steve didn’t ask. Natasha didn’t probe. Bucky didn’t push.

Maybe they were just giving you space, or maybe they understood that you weren’t ready to talk about it. Whatever the reason, you were grateful. You weren’t ready to deal with questions, and you sure as hell weren’t about to show any cracks.

By the end of the meeting, the team had laid out the next steps, and Tony was already preparing to crack more of the encrypted files. You stood up from your chair, stretching as you glanced around the room.

“Well, looks like I’ve got some time to kill before we go blow up a Hydra base. Anyone up for poker?” you asked, a grin spreading across your face.

Sam shook his head, laughing. “I’m not losing any more money to you.”

“Your loss,” you said with a shrug, heading for the door. “But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

As you left the room, you felt that familiar sense of control settle back into place. You were back to being you. The sarcastic comments, the cocky attitude—it was all armor, but it was armor you knew how to wear well. You weren’t going to let anyone see the cracks. Not now, not ever.

And if they suspected anything? Well, you’d just have to keep them guessing.

The next mission kicked off early the following day, and unlike the usual plan of sending you in solo to do the sneaky, chaotic work, this time the entire team was with you. It was rare for everyone to hit the field at once, but Hydra’s operation was too big, too dangerous to risk any mistakes. You didn’t mind—having the Avengers at your back meant more targets, more action, and of course, more chances to annoy the hell out of them.

The mission had been going smoothly, at least for the first part. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, each of you knowing your role. You were no exception, even if your powers were still suppressed by the cuffs locked around your wrists. But you didn’t let that stop you. Instead, you leaned into your usual brand of annoying commentary, letting your voice fill the comms with quips and sarcastic remarks to keep everyone on their toes.

"Any chance we can make this a little harder?" you muttered, flipping a Hydra soldier over your shoulder with ease. "I’m starting to get bored."

“Don’t jinx it,” Natasha warned, knocking out a guard with a swift elbow to the temple. “We’ve still got the hard part ahead.”

You clinked your cuffs against each other, deliberately irritating Clint, who shot you an exasperated look as he fired off a few arrows. “Are you seriously doing that now?”

You smirked, shrugging. “You know me. Gotta find some way to entertain myself while you all hog the fun.”

The team had split into two groups once inside the facility. You, Clint, Sam, and Steve were tasked with disabling Hydra’s weapon supply, while Tony, Natasha, and Bucky went after the intel. The plan was straightforward, at least for now. But you knew better than anyone that Hydra had a way of turning straightforward into a nightmare at a moment’s notice.

And it did.

As you and the others pushed deeper into the base, Hydra soldiers came at you in waves. It was fine at first—manageable. But soon, the corridors were swarming with them. You fought them off with every ounce of skill you had, but without your powers, it was harder to keep up the momentum.

“Guys,” Sam called from above, using his wings to stay out of reach of the Hydra soldiers, “it’s getting real crowded down here.”

“I’ve noticed!” Steve grunted, knocking out another guard as they just kept coming.

“Could really use a power boost right about now,” you muttered, driving your knee into a soldier’s stomach and slamming him into the floor.

“I’ll handle that,” Tony’s voice cut through the comms. “FRIDAY, release the cuffs.”

With a satisfying click, the cuffs around your wrists fell away, and instantly, you felt the rush of power flood back into you. The shadows around you twitched and stirred like old friends returning from a long vacation.

“Ah, much better,” you said with a grin as you launched into action. The shadows coiled around you like extensions of your body, yanking Hydra soldiers into the darkness before they could react.

“Show-off,” Clint grumbled, firing an arrow that exploded in a burst of smoke.

“Jealous?” you quipped, sweeping another soldier off his feet with a tendril of shadow. “I can teach you how to be cool later.”

“You wish.”

Despite the banter, things were heating up. Hydra wasn’t pulling any punches, and it became clear that they weren’t just trying to slow you down—they were trying to wipe you out. The team fought hard, but there were too many of them.

“Behind you!” Steve shouted suddenly.

You turned just in time to see a Hydra soldier charging at Clint with a weapon raised, ready to strike. Without thinking, you acted.

Throwing yourself in front of Clint, you summoned the shadows to wrap around the soldier’s legs, yanking him to the ground. But just as you moved to strike, a searing pain shot through your leg—a Hydra soldier behind you had gotten off a lucky shot with an energy weapon, the blast catching you in the thigh.

The impact sent you stumbling, your vision going white with pain for a split second. But you held your ground, gritting your teeth as you knocked the soldier away and slumped against the wall, one hand clutching your leg where blood was already soaking through the fabric of your suit.

Clint, who had been busy dealing with another guard, turned just in time to see what had happened. His eyes widened. “What the hell, man?!”

You gave him a strained smile, trying to play it off. “Just… you know. Thought you could use a hand.”

He glanced at the wound in your leg, his expression shifting from confusion to something almost like concern. “You’re hit.”

“Wow, you’re observant,” you muttered, wincing as you tried to stand up straight. The pain was sharp, but manageable. “I’m fine. Really.”

Steve appeared at your side, his shield held up to deflect another round of shots from the Hydra soldiers swarming around you. “We need to fall back. You’re injured.”

“I said I’m fine,” you repeated, trying to push the pain away as you summoned more shadows to keep the guards at bay. “Just a scratch.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “You call that a scratch?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Despite the sarcasm, you could feel the wound slowing you down. Every step was agony, but you weren’t about to let the others see how much it hurt. You’d already saved Clint’s life—no point making a big deal out of the fact that you’d taken a hit for it.

“Alright, let’s finish this,” you grunted, waving the others ahead. “I can still fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere with that leg,” Steve said, clearly not buying your bravado.

“I can keep up, Rogers. Trust me.” You tried to push forward, but the pain flared up again, and you stumbled slightly.

Clint caught your arm, steadying you with a scowl. “Yeah, you’re not fine.”

“I’m still standing, aren’t I?” you shot back, though you knew you weren’t exactly proving your point.

Before either of you could argue further, Tony’s voice cut through the comms again. “Weapons system is down. We need to meet up at the extraction point, now.”

“Copy that,” Steve said, his voice tight. “We’re moving out.”

The team regrouped quickly, and despite your injury, you insisted on pulling your weight as you limped along with the others. Clint kept throwing you glances, like he expected you to collapse at any second, but you ignored him, focusing on getting to the exit before Hydra could regroup.

By the time you reached the quinjet, you were drenched in sweat, the pain in your leg pulsing with every step. You staggered up the ramp, trying not to let it show, but as soon as you were inside, you collapsed onto one of the seats, your breath ragged.

Natasha, who had been helping to cover the retreat, took one look at you and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you muttered, wincing as you pressed a hand to the wound in your leg.

Clint shook his head, sitting down across from you. “They took a hit saving my ass.”

Natasha’s eyes flicked between the two of you, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something—probably some comment about heroics and recklessness—but she held back. Instead, she nodded and turned to help with the takeoff.

Tony was the last to board, hovering just above the ramp. “Alright, everyone in one piece?”

“More or less,” you muttered under your breath.

Tony glanced at you, his face hidden behind the mask of his suit, but you could practically feel his eye-roll. “Nice work out there. Try not to die before we get back, okay?”

“No promises,” you replied, leaning back as the quinjet took off, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain settled in. You’d taken a hit, sure, but you weren’t about to let it slow you down.

And at least Clint was still breathing.

That was a win in your book.

By the time the quinjet neared the Avengers compound, the adrenaline that had been keeping you going finally ran out. The pain in your leg had become a constant throb, and your vision blurred around the edges. You tried to shake it off, to stay focused, but the exhaustion weighed down on you like a lead blanket. Every breath felt heavier, harder to draw in.

“Hey, you good over there?” Clint asked, glancing at you from his seat across the quinjet.

“Yeah, just… tired,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you intended. “No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. You could feel yourself slipping. The room swayed, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stay conscious, but the darkness creeping in from the edges of your vision was relentless. You slumped back in your seat, your head lolling to the side as your body gave in to the exhaustion and pain.

“Uh, guys?” Clint’s voice came again, a little more urgent this time. “I think we’ve got a problem.”

You barely registered his words before everything went black.

When you woke up, everything was a blur of voices and movement. You were vaguely aware of someone speaking—Tony, maybe?—and the familiar sound of the quinjet’s engines humming beneath you. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t open your eyes.

"FRIDAY, check her vitals," Tony’s voice cut through the haze.

"Vitals are dropping," FRIDAY replied. "She's lost a significant amount of blood. She needs immediate medical attention."

There was a pause, and then another voice—Steve, calm but tense. "We need to get her to the medbay. Now."

You felt strong arms lift you off the seat, cradling you carefully but firmly. It wasn’t rough, but the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through your leg, dragging you further out of the fog.

"Barnes, you’ve got her?" Tony asked, and you felt a shift in the air around you.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, his voice steady. "I’ve got her."

Bucky’s metal arm was cool against your skin, and despite the haze, you could feel how careful he was with you. He wasn’t his usual stiff self, the one who acted like you were a problem waiting to happen. This was different.

As the quinjet landed, Bucky carried you down the ramp, the world a blur of lights and voices around you. You weren’t fully aware of it, but you felt the rush of movement as the others cleared a path toward the medbay. You heard Steve barking orders, and then Tony was there, walking alongside Bucky, his voice calm but serious.

"Get Helen Cho on standby," Tony said to FRIDAY. "We need her in the medbay ASAP."

Your vision swam again, and for a moment, you lost track of time. When you came to, you were lying on a medbay bed, the cold metal of the table beneath you strangely comforting. The hum of machines filled the room, and the faint scent of antiseptic told you that you were in safe hands.

When you finally woke up, it took a second to remember where you were. The medbay was quiet, save for the faint beeping of a monitor nearby. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright lights above you, and then turned your head to the side.

Dr. Helen Cho stood nearby, looking through a tablet, her brow furrowed in concentration. You recognized her immediately, even through the post-mission haze. She had a reputation for being the best in her field, but right now, she just looked incredibly focused—and, if you were being honest, annoyingly attractive.

You grinned, the familiar cocky smirk returning as you found your voice. “Well, this is a nice way to wake up. Did you personally request to treat me, or is that just a bonus?”

Helen glanced up from her tablet, her expression changing from professional focus to a sly smile. “You’re awake, then. Good. I thought you might’ve decided to sleep through the whole thing.”

“I figured I’d give you a chance to admire my rugged good looks while I was out,” you said, your tone teasing as you leaned back into the pillow. “But I’m happy to keep you company now that I’m awake.”

She chuckled, setting the tablet down on the counter beside you. “I’ll admit, you’re not the worst patient I’ve had. But maybe save the flirting until after I’m done making sure you’re not going to bleed out.”

You raised an eyebrow, ignoring the dull ache in your leg. “Who says I can’t multitask? I can flirt and recover at the same time. You know, efficient use of my talents.”

Helen shook her head, clearly amused. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you said, flashing her a grin. “Gotta keep things interesting around here. Though I’d be happy to hear your assessment of my… condition. I’m sure you’ve seen worse, but I bet I look really good while injured.”

She leaned over you, mockingly serious for a second. “Oh, no doubt. The blood really brings out your eyes.”

You were about to fire back another comment when the door slid open, and Bucky walked in, clearly not in the mood for banter.

“Alright, lovebirds, that’s enough,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow at the two of you. “This is a medbay, not a date.”

You glanced at him with a smirk. “Jealous, Barnes?”

Bucky crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Please. I’m just here to make sure you don’t annoy the person who’s keeping you alive.”

Helen chuckled softly and stood back up, her expression turning more professional. “She's fine now. The wound was clean, no permanent damage. Just need to stay off her feet for a while.”

Bucky shot you a knowing look. “Hear that? That means no running off. Doctor’s orders.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, trying not to wince at the soreness in your leg. “Fine, fine. I’ll take it easy.”

“Good,” Bucky said, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Because I don’t feel like dragging your unconscious body back to the med bay again anytime soon.”

Helen smiled at you, a teasing glint still in her eyes as she picked up her tablet. “I’ll leave you in Bucky's capable hands, then.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as the exhaustion finally caught up to you. You’d done your part, and for now, that was enough.

Before sleep fully claimed you, you couldn’t resist one last comment.

“Hey, Barnes?”

He stopped, turning back. “Yeah?”

“Tell Helen she can come check on me anytime.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Get some sleep.”

And with that, you drifted off, a satisfied smirk still on your face.

dividers by @dollywons

[anystalker707]

training (trying)

Pairing: Sam Monroe x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: you finally convinced your boyfriend to go to the gym with you. Tags: gym rat reader / drabble / whiny sam (as usual)

based on an interaction between @bimbo-baggins2-0 and @speaknow-sw

MASTER LIST

          “Got it?” You asked, letting the barbell down, and you really wanted to believe that Sam had been paying attention to your explanation, but the look on his face didn’t convince you.

Sam finally huffed and nodded. Your muscles looked terribly good when flexed, and it was easy to allow himself to imagine one of his band shirts tightly spread over your muscles. “Okay,” he said. “What’s this called ag—” He cut himself off with a groan when he grabbed the barbell from your hands—or at least tried to, since it fell to the ground with a muffled thud at the same moment. Silence stretched for a few seconds before he scrunched his face, a string of curses leaving his lips.

You nodded faintly and moved to change the plates for lighter ones. They were tiny compared to the ones you used, and Sam didn’t know which was a greater humiliation—the big difference between the weights you two lifted or how it seemed pathetic to have two little, thin plates on the bar like that. “Biceps curls. Just curls.”

The gym wasn’t all that crowded at that time of the day, aside from some people occupying a couple of equipment and the instructors wandering around. Taking Sam to the gym was an effort already, so you didn’t want to hear any more whining, in case there were too many people, though he still found something else to complain about. Well, the bad music choice wasn’t your fault, and he did have to eat proper food because Monster isn’t a meal, and you can’t grow bigger without eating. He didn’t have gym clothes, but he put on some shorts and a black t-shirt that contrasted highly with his pale skin, showing some of his sides because of the low cut, and it worked.

“All good,” you said, pushing the heavier plate away with your foot.

Sam continued staring at the barbell with his arms crossed over his chest, cheeks tinted red because of the embarrassment and the rush. How was he supposed to remember so many details and exercises? Eventually, he nodded. He positioned his feet with the same hesitance his hands carried when dancing across the barbell to find a proper grip on the rough metal. He finally stood up properly and took a deep breath to start the reps.

“Twelve.” Your eyes ran over his form to analyze the performance. Sam wasn’t the best, with those thin arms struggling to lift the weights that barely reached half of what you could lift, trembling with each movement. It shouldn’t be so adorable. You took a step behind him, touching his elbows lightly. “Hold still and align to your torso.”

His bottom lip was caught tightly between his teeth when Sam looked at you through the mirror, breath hitching as he kept doing the reps the best he could. They reached lower each time, barely going halfway up. You’d have to spend longer at the gym now—an hour babysitting him, an hour training.

“Up to your chest, baby boy! I know you can do it.” A chuckle would’ve escaped your lips if there weren’t the risk of accidentally discouraging him. “C’mon, almost there. Three… Two… One…”

Sam exhaled heavily as he let the barbell fall to the ground, hissing as he stretched his arms.

“If you keep letting it fall that harshly, the owner’s gonna kick your ass,” you warned. He glared, but it didn’t last long—his attention averted to the tingling sensation in his muscles. Sam mumbled something under his breath, about to walk off when you placed a hand on his shoulder to pull him back, pinching the back of his neck lightly. “Two more series. I know you can do it.”

Sam wouldn’t dare complain too much and get on your nerves again, not when you could manhandle him so easily. He was lost in thought as the memory of you carrying him around, lifting him off the couch so that you could sit down with him on your lap. How he would wrap his arms around your neck, legs around your waist, and your hands held his thighs firmly. So hot. He enjoyed it a little too much. Fuck, you could never find it out. Just when you were about to say something, he quickly grabbed the bar from the ground again, starting the reps, feeling a mix of pain and numbness in his biceps.

“Arch your back like you do it for me, baby.” Your breath was hot in his ear, sudden—Sam’s eyes widened, and his arms wavered. “Come on, Sam! Twelve more! The first one didn’t count!”

⋆°｡⋆🎧🎸★ 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 73)

(Honesty, every chapter from here on out is probably going to be gross...)

“We have to get back to the bunker.” N dropped back into the nest suddenly, processors firing on all cylinders as he scooped Tera up in his arms, looking behind him occasionally.

“Woah, hey. We just got here, what's the rush?” Uzi cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, reaching up to hold his shoulder.

“I just ran into…something.” He choked out, stopping his frantic movement to look at her, he could feel his core trying to beat out of his chest.

“Descriptive clues babe.” She deadpanned, looking slightly irritated at his lack of detail.

“A zombie? I don't know how else to describe it! It was a drone, but dead, and not dead?!” He looked like he was grasping for straws fir a way to say it without sounding absolutely insane.

“It had weird, veiny tentacles all over it and a big one burst out like a weird creepy worm!”

Uzi blinked, before slowly laying back down onto the plush colored floor. “Uuuuuuuggh". A long-suffering groan left her mouth as she covered her face with her hands.

“Dammit. Come on, can't we catch a break?!” She complained to no one, grumbling irritability.

Tera was squirming in her father's arms, still wanting to play.

If it was any other time in her life, she would be flying down into the city and taking a look for herself, but now? She was in no condition to do much of anything physical, especially fight.

“I'll grab V and we'll do a sweep tomorrow, it came from in the direction of camp. Maybe theres something there?” He thought aloud, already drafting up a message to V. Uzi looked conflicted, wings fluttering as she took a long look out of the entrance to the nest.

“I don't like the idea of not going with you…”

“You need to stay where it's safe, I'm not going to risk you getting hurt. And… Tera needs her mom, in case something happens.” He added, words sounding thick and heavy. “Not that anything will! Just thinking logically.”

Uzi sucked in a wary breath, he was right and she hated it. She hated this situation, she hated this planet.

“Yeah.” She replied simply, worry creasing every one of her features as she looked back at him.

“It'll be okay, maybe it won't be that bad?”

…

N and V walked side by side, both drones on high alert as they made their way through the thick trees and hanging fog. The brightest lights being the ones attached to them, their headbands and tails glowing brightly.

“How do you keep finding this stuff?” V complained, raising an eyebrow as she walked slightly ahead of him with a sword drawn, she scanned the tree line ahead of them, squinting as she tried to make out any drone-like shapes.

“I wish I didn't…” N's tone was deadly serious. Something that caught V slightly off guard. N had always been the excitable, happy one. But here, with his gaze locked forward and him holding onto his inbuilt rifle. He looked a lot less like N and a lot more like J when she was leading a hunting party.

“Hey, uh, relax. There's nothing on this planet we can't deal with. We're the predators, not some stupid infected drones.” She smirked, making N crack a small smile before it was once again washed away by whatever internal battle he was having.

“Hey, V?”

“Mm?”

“Do you ever want kids?” He asked, and she stopped suddenly in her tracks. N raised an eyebrow as it looked as if she was stealing herself.

“No, It's too dangerous right now to think about.” She said before starting to walk forward again, her footfalls sounding heavier then they did before.

“I said ‘ever’ not ‘now’.” N hummed, being extremely curious about V's odd reaction to a question he'd assumed would be a straight ‘No’.

“N-no. I wouldn't be a good parent.” She replied, refusing to look at him as she did.

“What do you mean? You're great with Tera.”

“Tera's not mine. You two take care of her. Not me.” She sounded irritated, swiping her sword at a branch that had gotten in her way.

“I know you've been coming around more when I'm not home…”

V didn't say anything at that, only pushed her head down more as she walked forward, N sighed.

“I just wanted to thank you. Uzi could use the help, even if she won't admit it.”

There was silence for a few moments, before he heard a deep sigh come from in front of him.

“She's pregnant, it kinda just feels like my job. You know? Even if I still think you two are stupid.” She added, making him laugh nervously.

Snap!

A branch snapping underfoot startled them both, both drones looked around rapidly, tension rising to fever pitch almost instantly. N growled in warning, and despite him never hearing it out of her voice box before, so did V.

A drone came through the trees, hunched over and leaking oil from its mouth, it had been sliced in half at one point, because a large black vein was the only thing keeping it together. It’s arms outstretched towards V as in lumbered toward them.

“Oh that’s so gross.” V spat before slicing the drone in half again. Releasing the thick black appendage from its job of holding its host together, and sending it careening towards her outstretched arm, where it wrapped around and squeezed.

V screamed as tiny black veins snaked quickly up her arm, sending searing pain through all of her sensors and nearly sending her to the ground. She was in so much shock she almost couldn’t move,

N brought a sword down between the tentacle and her, blasting it to bits with an energy cannon until it was nothing but scrap. That didn’t stop the spiderwebbing of pain up her arm though. She watched in horror as her arm twisted up unnaturally and without her input, switching to a rifle aimed directly at N.

“N! Look out!” She cried out, N just barely moving out of the way as a stream of bullets left the tip of the rifle and dug themselves deep in a gnarled tree. Thinking quickly, N brought his sword down on her shoulder, severing it utterly.

The severed arm twitched erratically, switching between different weapons until N blasted it to smithereens as well, leaving nothing but scattered shrapnel and bits of undulating flesh.

“Are you okay!?” N leaned down and immediately pulled her shoulder into him, looking for more veins. V let out a stuttering breath, the burning pain was gone, taken along with her arm.

“Fine. It’ll regenerate. What the hell was that!?” She shouted, letting him fret over her only for another minute before pushing him off and standing. Watching her nanites fill the space with grey goo before solidifying into a new arm.

“That was the thing I saw yesterday! I didn’t know it could do that though!” He exclaimed, looking around just in case there were any more infected drones around. The trees were silent, but that meant very little.

“I think it’s the same thing that was in Dolls room… what happened to my arm happened to Uzi’s leg.” V huffed breathlessly, flexing her new arm before switching it to a flamethrower.

“Come on, and don’t let them touch you.”

The closer they got to camp. The warmer the air got, damp with the smell of iron and decay. They stood hip to hip, both wary of being grabbed from something unseen. When the clearing broke and they both stopped in their tracks.

Camp 98.7 was no more. A massive sinkhole had opened up from underneath, pulling in the surrounding buildings, a red mass of flesh surrounding the entire hole, pulsing. Black veins jutted across the ground, digging themselves deep within the planets very crust. The air was putrid, a too-sweet mixture of rot and garbage. Sharp, jagged teeth wrapped around the sinkhole’s circumference, and hundreds of very human eyes stared out in all directions.

The hole gurgled, the ground shaking slightly as the tendrils of black visibly spread across the ground, N and V both stepped back to avoid it touching them.

“Holy fuck.” V murmured, looking down at her very small looking flamethrower in comparison to this portal to hell “What do we do?” She looked at N for answers, something she wasn’t used to doing but felt right in the moment. He looked at her, eyes hollow before shaking his head, replacing his fear with determination.

“We need to see how big this is. We should fly over, see how deep this hole goes.”

V nodded, her wings unleashing as she launched herself up in the air to get a better look. N right behind her.

The sinkhole went down for miles, the inside crackling with yellow energy, the red flesh also went down for miles, teeth lining the inside like it was the mouth to some insanely sized creature. She could see black tendrils slinking around near the ‘bottom’, moving like a nest of coiled snakes.

“This is bad… this is really bad.” N looked at the surroundings, everything the tendrils touched became flesh, several trees that had gotten sunk in now had growths of bone growing out of them, jutting out randomly, the ground itself moved as if it had a heartbeat.

“N this is too big, I can’t even see the bottom of this thing.”

The hole gurgled again, the hundred of eyes suddenly focusing on the drones hovering high above it, N gulped, watching the nest of moving tentacles inside suddenly stop moving.

“We need to move.”

“Wh-“

“We need to move, now!”

N dragged V by the hand just in time when a gigantic mass of tentacles ripped out of the hole in their direction, trying desperately to grab them and drag them down into a gaping hellish maw. N kept heading upwards, pulling V along until they were safely out of reach. The tendrils continued to swipe at them, arching up high into the sky.

Both disassemblers looked down, watching as the flurry of movement slowly calmed down and the pit pulled back in its determined appendages, once again beginning to coil and slide within.

“What the hell do we do, this thing is spreading!? V exclaimed, looking out at the mile of transformed land and how quickly this petulance was spreading over it.

“I don’t know…” N replied, looking in the direction of the bunker not far from here.

Next ->

[whinlatter]

sorry if you've discussed this before, but do you think ginny's quidditch talent came out of nowhere? it's a common criticism I see about her but I feel like that kind of overstates how much of a quidditch "star" she was at the beginning, like she was consistently described as good but not great until partway into hbp and I also think it makes sense she'd keep it a secret from her teasing brothers. but maybe they're right and I'm just biased towards defending ginny

thank you for the question, anon!

the short answer is - no, i think it's (just about) plausibly rendered in the books. i think the series gets away with it because:

the story is told from the perspective of a teenage boy aka peak obliviousness in corporeal form, so we see what harry sees (and harry notices big fat nothing)

there is an entirely adequate narrative explanation for ginny's sporting skills that most readers not operating in bad faith* can put together, as you suggest: ginny comes from a sporty family who are all good at quidditch; she is of middling-to-good seeking ability when she first joins the team in ootp; she then has a good few months flying several times a week where she would necessarily grow in confidence and experience, leaving her perfectly able to blossom in hbp in a high school sport where she is competing against other children. fine and dandy in my book.

also quidditch is a broadly dumb and pointless plot so ginny being good at it is just a fun extra that we don't need to deep too much because - let's be real - quidditch is a waste of page space.

*i say this because, most of the time, these takes come from those who don't like hinny as a pairing. which is entirely their right and prerogative! it personally doesn't float my boat to spend my days doing worst faith readings of the text in order to make the case against canon ships i don't like, but as this is a race to the bottom - we are all adults dissecting children's books written by a nasty spiteful woman rotting in her mouldy castle spouting slurs, after all - who am i to judge.

(i also suspect the 'ginny is good at quidditch out of nowhere' takes have enjoyed such a long shelf-life on eg. reddit because the films are still most people's primary reference for HP takes so complaints about them then get cast back on the books - and, in the films, ginny does in fact rock up in film 6 like she's mbappé, if mbappé had the charisma of an extraordinarily soggy bath mat.)

with that said... could it have done with a bit more foreshadowing? yes, probably. people who don't like hinny as a pairing and prefer another are never going to be convinced - that's fine! but here i am, a paid-up hinny supporter, and even i think ginny's character development is sometimes wanting, to a frustrating and problematic extent. good writing (usually) means showing not telling, and it's weird and lazy of jkr to be so slapdash about revealing this and other character details about ginny and other (often female) characters. i think it's particularly striking that jkr underserves characters (again, usually women) who exist to serve the emotional development of characters (usually men), rather than the mystery plot(s) that drive hp as a series. (wanted! tonks' personality! last seen making fake pig noses and being the only auror mad eye moody mentored as his successor, for no plot reason!)

while i'm not a die-hard adherent to the chekhov's gun principle, i think one of the strengths of many novels du jour - especially the nothing really happens postmodern novel that crowds the bookshop shelves these days - is that their conventions allow authors to add colour to characters without each tiny detail being pregnant with meaning and in service of a driving plot that must be marched forward at all times. that can be really nice! as readers, we like to get a sense of characters as well-rounded living breathing people who go for a wee and take the bins out and stick on an album because it slaps every now and then; in these novels, we're also happier with the idea that things can happen to characters beyond the protagonist that don't directly impact the plot or demand the protagonist knows more than their own very limited vantage point. you have more room to play with character as a result.

jkr, ofc, isn't that kind of author. jkr is in fact an author for whom everything about her characters serves the plot. this, after all, is the brain that brought you 'remus lupin' the werewolf, and named the bad-guy-turned-good-guy in a book using a big black dog as a red herring omen of death 'sirius black'. jkr wants her audience to notice clues and remember little details about characters because they might be significant later on. this is entirely her wont and - lupin and sirius aside - she's often very good at it. the hp books are all standalone mysteries, and, when they land, those mysteries slap. ginny being the culprit in CoS is a genuinely satisfying resolution to the whodunit plot: this was reflected in critical reception at the time and was part of the reason why hp was able to be marketed as a children's book adults would also enjoy thereafter. there are also very satisfying foreshadowing and mystery plots that straddle the entire series and that reward the reader with reasonably good pay-off at the series end. (my favourite is the foreshadow within the foreshadow - e.g. regulus black barrelling back from ootp in DH, but then regulus' plot turning out to ultimately exist to foreshadow snape's own double agent status... delicious).

for my part, it's also what i want out of the fiction i read and the stories i try to write. i want everything to mean something. i want the weather, clothing, setting, body language etc to all do heavy lifting. i want character work to do work. it makes it fun for me to write and (i hope) it can it a bit more fun for the reader.

the problem is that while jkr is good setting up some mysteries, she is bad at others, and the romantic plot is one she falls down (a bit) on. she sets herself up for this: she wants to be a plot-centred mystery writer, so she does have an obligation to do better in how she deploys character details. jkr does to try to write the harry/ginny romance like a mystery, with little hints throughout the series up to the reveal of harry's feelings for ginny in HBP. (even ginny's full name is nominative determinism, finally revealed in DH once the reader has been told her place in the plot - ginevra, so guinnevre, the hero's queen). and while i will never not tire of pointing out to all of reddit that harry/ginny didn't come out of nowhere, and there is some satisfying foreshadowing knocking about here and there, i think it's fair to say that the harry/ginny build-up is not as satisfying as it could have been because jkr is basically lazier about the clues that ginny is the character harry will ultimately fall for, while she is much better at dropping clues for the series' central plot. that ginny ends the series with no real resolution of the primary tensions that motivate her other than her love of harry is probably the most acute example of this. but there's lots about her character where jkr phones it in a bit in fleshing her out or taking it to any logical conclusions or interesting plot directions. a smattering of examples:

ginny is the character who spends the entire series demanding to be included and not underestimated ends the series... with no real major role in the battle other than causing harry panic, while all other central characters receive a satisfying narrative arc that speaks to their central motivators across the series as a whole. (for an interesting discussion of what should have happened with ginny and the horcruxes, see here. i didn't even pay @saintsenara to write this!)

there are lots of shades of colour to ginny's character that are introduced pointlessly. i have previously talked about my beef with arnold the pygmy puff. we know ginny is popular but we know nothing of her friends who are all faceless plotless nobodies. we know ginny supports the all-womens quidditch team in a way that implies a nascent feminist politics after a childhood being excluded from playing a sport she loves by her brothers - yet we know nothing of it. we know ginny loves the one wizarding band that seems to exist because she has a poster of them on her wall and it just.... is something we just get told about her. now, all of these suggest ginny is a good time gal and a right laugh at the pub. and that's nice! i too am fun at the pub! but why does it matter? it wouldn't, in another series. but in a series where Everything Matters, it really stands out.

now..... i don't think all of this is an unsolveable problem for those of us writing fanfiction about ginny or harry and ginny as a couple. i don't think this makes ginny an inherently bad character. i hope the amount of life i have wasted thinking about this character is testament to this (...) and i personally find trying to cook up some fleshed-out characterisation and a satisfying arc for ginny, and for female characters more generally, from the crumbs of the original source material to be a very rewarding way to pass the time and a fuck you to a woman who thinks she can gatekeep womanhood while writing some astonishingly antifeminist fiction. i think harry and ginny are a deeply compelling and eminently plausible couple, and i think i return to writing about them as much as i do because i think they have a ton of potential as narrative mirrors and as characters with a rich well of tension but also devotion between them. as i say a lot, i think one of the things the harry/ginny pairing does refreshingly well compared to other romantic lead couples in YA fiction is show a couple that, at heart, genuinely get on very well, have a laugh together and enjoy each other's company in completely mundane lovely day-to-day ways (laundry and taxes u know). i think that's a striking and refreshing dynamic that i like to spend time fleshing out and playing with and writing about. but i can also see that there is an inconsistency in jkr's character work here, particularly her character work writing female characters, of which ginny is among the most acute examples.

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 3 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 12k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: very excited for this chapter because you guys finally get to see what a big part of fic will deal with. keeping everyone who reads on in my prayers <3 (you'll need it)

i've also added a small playlist for this fic. in case you'd like to dive in the link is above!

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 3 - The Sky

‘‘The sky here’s very strange. I often have the sensation when I look at it that it's a solid thing up there, protecting us from what’s behind.’ ‘But what is behind?’ Her voice was very small. ‘Nothing, I suppose. Just darkness. Absolute night.’’

- Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky

The body is resting against the only intact wall of the cabin, to Joel's left. Propped up next to the fireplace, the scene around it leaving no doubt about the finality of it. Blue hair drenched in red, thick liquid pooling below and running through the crevices of the weathered and beaten wood.

He barely registers Tommy’s footsteps behind him nor that they come to a sudden halt.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath. 

Joel is the one that steps forward, kneeling down next to the fireplace, his hand gently reaching out to touch the pale skin of her hand. “She’s already cold. Must’ve been a few hours,” he whispers, his voice dangerously close to cracking.

“We need to alert the others. What if these guys are already at the gates? Maria has no clue-”

“Tommy-” Joel gently tries to stop the rambling of his brother, but he can't bring himself to take his eyes off her. But the other man is barely listening, his feet shuffling anxiously as he reaches for his rifle.

“Joel, goddamn it, I mean it. Get up. They may be waiting for the moment to attack-”

“There is no attack,” Joel says, again, and his voice feels too calm for what he’s implying. 

He stalls for a moment, the realization coming to him that he’s gotten too good at this. He’s gotten too good at being in the presence of death, likely better than he ever has been in the presence of people.

He carefully leans forward, using his free hand to gently push the fabric of her hoodie out of the way, glancing down at the wound and giving a small nod. He doesn't need to see the way Tommy’s shoulders fall. He feels the air shift as his brother comes to the conclusion Joel has found much faster. They both know why he got there quicker. Takes one to know one.

“Why would she-” Tommy breaks off, turning his gaze away from the thing he doesn't understand. “I don't know,” Joel mutters under his breath. It hasn't hit him yet, the full force of what this means. Of the consequences it will draw. “We need to get her back to Jackson.” But he can’t really focus on that. Not when he has your best friend’s lifeless body next to him without a clue where you are.

“Do you think-” There's a heavy pause. “Did she do this alone?” Tommy asks, placing his rifle next to the door and beginning to look around the cabin for something useful.

Joel immediately knows what he's asking. But he shakes his head. “I don't think she would have- There's no sign anyone else was here.”

His head is spinning, screaming at him to do the one thing he knows. He needs to find you.

And then he doesn't. Because before they can even begin to move the body, he can hear hooves approaching outside. He recognizes the fast gallop of your horse even before you call their names.

“Lane?! Joel?! Tommy?!” Your lungs hurt from calling them. It was easy enough to follow the tracks, spurring your own horse on much more than you dared on any patrol so far. The mare almost seems relieved when you reach the two other horses and you slide off her back in one quick motion.

It's at the same moment that the door flies open, Joel crossing the small veranda in a few strides. You freeze in your tracks. “Where-?” The words die in your throat. Joel carefully makes his way towards you, his steps slow and controlled. Your eyes fly to his hands. They’re bloody. He has almost reached you when you find his eyes again. There is a gentleness in them that confuses you for a split second.

And then it all makes sense. You don't want the blood, you don't want that look in his eyes, you don't want any of it once you realize what it means.

“No.” Your voice comes out all wrong and you don't know if he heard you. If anyone can.

“It's okay. Come here,” Joel mumbles as he reaches you, carefully sneaking his arm around you. He tries to pull you close and he's not sure whether it's for your or his sake. Maybe both.

“No. Joel, where is she?”

He shushes you again, readying himself to catch you if your knees give out, his grip around you tightening ever so slightly.

Joel Miller has come to know you fairly well over the past years. At least he likes to think he does and you've rarely caught him off guard. But today you do.

“Where is she?!” Your knees don't give out. Not even close. They bend just enough for you to slip past the broad man in front of you, taking off with a run towards the door of the cabin.

It takes him a second to register what has happened. Then, he’s storming after you as fast as his legs will allow him.

“Tommy!” he yells out, hoping that if he won't be able to stop you, at least his brother will. But it's he who catches up with you just as you take the first step onto the veranda, roughly pulling you back by your arm, hard enough that it sends both of you tumbling to the floor.

He barely registers the way the wooden step digs into his ribs and knocks the air out of his lungs. Instead, his fingers stay tightly wrapped around your arm. “Fucking let go, Joel! Let me see her!”

He doesn't know what to say. He can't tell you that he simply can't. That it would stay with you forever, even more than this will anyway.

“Come here,” he just repeats weakly, bringing his other arm around to pull you in. One of your knees is bleeding, your jeans ripped open where you hit the floor with full force. Joel makes a mental note to clean the wound later.

Your body is trembling much harder than you thought possible as you let Joel pull you into his arms. It has nothing to do with the cold. You don't even feel like you're able to recognize temperature. An absurd concept, that your body would adjust to any of it, that it would ever stop shaking and trembling. Joel's arms feel like he's all around you, wrapping his body around yours, sheltering you from what is only a few feet away. 

Your lungs that were burning just a minute ago seem to not be a part of you anymore. They in- and exhale in their own rhythm, one that feels too fast and too slow all at once. You hear Joel muttering into your ear, but you can't make out the words. Your cheeks are wet. You don't know why.

The world dissolves around you and you briefly wonder if you’re dying. It's not a shocking idea that gets you up and fighting. You wonder about death the same way you would about whether or not they have soap at the store. The world has almost gone dark when you realize you are not, in fact, dying. But, even as the strength leaves your muscles and you collapse against the body next to you, you are aware that something has.

***

You regain consciousness, just for a moment. There is a steady rise and fall around you and at first you think it's your lungs expanding and deflating. But as you open your eyes enough to catch a glimpse of your surroundings, they move. Up and down. Slow and steady.

You're on horseback, pressed against a broad chest that has to be Joel’s. His arms are pulling you tightly into him, keeping you upright, making sure you won't fall off. You don't think you could bring yourself to care. It probably wouldn't even hurt. In fact, every part of your body should hurt with the way you were running earlier, with how you fell onto the stairs, bone crunching as it took the blow to your side. But oddly enough, it feels like you're floating, like your mind is far away from your body and equally far away from Joel. There is a disconnect, a faulty wire. One that simmers, undetected, till it snaps one random afternoon and sets the whole house on fire.

You still feel like you’re drifting in and out of consciousness when the movement below you slows and you feel yourself being lifted down by strong, steady arms. They are a constant around you, a shield that protects you from what is beyond.

Word about your disappearances has traveled fast but not fast enough for no one to ask any questions. There have rarely been any runaways in Jackson, except for the occasional teenagers who usually show up again the day after- and the couple last year. The bodies Joel had found in the abandoned hotel. Why was he always the one to find them?

People approach, some calling out to the odd group arriving. Tommy leading both horses and shushing those who call out to them while Joel holds you close, staring down anyone who so much as tries to approach him.

“I’ll go and fetch Maria and we can-” Tommy pauses, his gaze wandering from his brother's face to the curled up body below it. He can't bring himself to say it. Not like this, not in front of you. 

Joel gives a curt nod, understanding. “Tell Maria we're at my place. And-” A small sigh escapes his lips. “Make sure she arranges for a group immediately.”

The younger man swallows hard and turns away. Infected will happily devour any meat they're given, no matter if they've hunted it down themselves. He doesnt think he could bear going back and finding a scene like that. His steps speed up.

You only catch glimpses of the people around you, words being whispered, conversations being started and then abruptly breaking off. And you still feel light, so light that you think you could just float away, disappear into the blue until you’d reach the horizon and whatever lies beyond. But you're wrapped in the dark leather coat that keeps sliding off your shoulders, wrapped in Joel’s arms, and so it won't happen. He won't let you float away. 

For all you know, all of the sounds and glimpses could be figments of your imagination, something like a dream or a fleeting memory of a book you’ve read as a child, one that you remember the cover and smell of, remember that it made you feel something, and yet, the story won't come to mind anymore. Above all, this can be, needs to be, something that is unreal. Because otherwise, you dont think you’ll be able to get through it.

You don't move. You let Joel carry you down Rancher Street, you let him nudge your head further into his chest as you realize you must be passing the corner of the graveyard. It seems impossible that you walked by it just a few hours ago, with your mind on the library and which exams to set and dinner this weekend. It all feels like a lifetime ago, a memory that doesn't belong to you but rather someone else.

The morning fog sunk back into the earth hours ago, the rays of the sun forcing it to clear. The sky above you feels close enough to touch, a vibrant and comforting shade of blue spanning from the tops of the wooden houses to the mountains in the distance.

You were just a baby when your father put up a swing in your backyard, strong ropes tied to the branch of an old oak tree. You must have heard the story a million times. Him, getting out his tools while you were watching from your blanket on the grass, not quite able to move your head on your own yet. But he insisted that your large eyes followed him around, contently staying where you were as he worked. 

You didn't understand, when hearing him talk about it, why he'd build a swing for someone too small to play on it. It only set in years later that he'd simply been that excited to bring home a little daughter and build something for her and fill the backyard with children's and adults' laughter alike.

That evening, he put you on his lap, one arm securely wrapped around the tiny form that was your body then, gently moving both of you back and forth. You’d fallen asleep almost instantly.

It became your favorite spot, and the way he talked about it years after you had left the house and the garden behind, it had been his too. You loved kicking your feet or spurring your father on to push you harder, watching as your legs soared towards the blue sky.

It seemed to you, back then, that you were miles above the ground, imagining what it'd be like to let go and drift off into the sky, to go up, up, up until your house would be nothing more than a small square below you, surrounded by green.

Joel carries you into the living room. He doesn't seem to want to leave you alone. And he seems restless.

He gets on his knees in front of you, soft brown eyes taking in your face. You avoid meeting them, curling further into the couch. His lips are moving but you can’t hear what he says.

After a few moments pass, you can tell he’s waiting for a response so you nod, almost in slow motion. He seems satisfied with that, saying something else before getting dinner started. It probably smells good, but you don't think you know good anymore.

You get through two potatoes, a bit of salad and chicken before you push your chair back, hurrying down the hallway as Joel scrambles after you.

You make it to the bathroom just in time, falling to your knees in front of the toilet as your stomach begins emptying itself. A sharp pain shoots through the knee that collided with the stairs of the cabin earlier. At the thought of the cabin, another wave of sickness hits you. It's violent, the way your throat convulses, your body trying to empty itself of whatever is inside.

But there is no purging the things inside of you. The thoughts and the memories and the images- god, the images. Lane, hunched over a table. Lane, holding a knife while you make dinner. Lane, laughing. Lane, placing a gun to her head. Lane, crying.

The steady flow of scenarios provided by your brain is broken by another wave of nausea, even though this time it is just dry heaving, your stomach already empty. Your head is not.

You don't hear the rushed footsteps behind you, but you feel the calloused hands pulling your hair out of the way and rubbing your back.

“There you go, get it all out,” Joel coos quietly. It's not his fault. That he doesn't immediately connect the dots as you start sobbing, choking for air. The sobs, your lungs demanding air, your stomach blocking the way, clearly insistent on getting everything out of your system.

You’re positive that the noises coming out of your mouth do not sound like yourself or, for that matter, sound human at all. They're a mix of gasping and heaving, back and forth, as your fingers clench around the toilet seat so hard you feel like it may break.

Joel is very lost and very determined not to let you notice. He has never seen you in this much pain, not when he washed you in the bathroom upstairs nor when you were seconds away from being ripped apart by an Infected. He cannot know that on the first night spent with Lane you were hunched over a toilet just like this, throwing up the blueberry muffins that had been too much for your starved stomach to handle. He cannot know she held your hair like he holds it now, fingers firmly wrapped around it, occasionally sweeping a loose strand behind your ear.

You're not sure how long you sit there like this, the cold tiles uncomfortably pressing into Joel's already sore knees, when he carefully leans you against the wall as he fetches a few towels, letting the water run until it's warm, to wet one of them and wipe your face.

His eyes fly over your features, concern etched into every part of his face. You weakly try and raise your arm to take the towel from him, unwilling to just sit and watch. But he shakes his head firmly, his gaze determined. “Let me, okay? You just focus on breathing.”

As he reaches for another towel, you feel your empty stomach filling again. With a heavy, uncomfortable guilt, one you wish you could throw right back up. Tears shoot into your eyes again but this time Joel doesn't hesitate.

“What's going on? Tell me what you're thinking,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the side of your face as his other hand uses the towel to dab over your chin, carefully wiping the remainder of the vomit away.

“I wasted your food,” you half-whisper, your voice raw. Joel's face falls, for a moment.

“Nothing is ever wasted on you, you hear me?” he mumbles quietly, moving on to wipe your cheek. “I can always make more.”

He doesn't seem to mind that you cry again at that.

***

It must be past midnight when you wake up the next time. The room is only dimly lit now, and a blanket is tucked around you, your eyes facing the worn-out fabric of the couch Joel set you down on earlier. Earlier feels very far away.

You turn, slowly, glad to find that your stomach seems to decide to give it a rest for now. It still lurches slightly as you squint into the dining room, seeing two figures hunched over the wooden table.

“Joel?” you try to call his name, quietly, but your throat feels dry and the word turns into a cough instead. Your fingers rub your throat, willing it to calm down and relax, as Joel appears in front of you, kneeling down beside the couch and offering you a glass of water. You nod your thanks, using both hands to bring it to your mouth and take a few sips.

“Better?” He hums softly, taking the glass back. You give another nod. If he minds the non-verbal communication, he doesn’t let it show. Instead he turns around, returning with the glass refilled. You gratefully accept it again.

It's only after he's placed it onto the small coffee table that your eyes land on Tommy, leaning against the wooden column separating the two rooms as he watches the scene in front of him. He gives you a swift nod when your eyes meet and something that seems like it was supposed to be a smile but, given the circumstances, fails miserably.

Joel motions for him to come closer. “Come on, it's- have a seat.” Their eyes meet and they seem to communicate silently, no doubt continuing the conversation where they left off.

Tommy sits down. He shuffles his feet, his fingers anxiously tapping the lid of a plastic container that holds some food. Courtesy of Maria, no doubt. Joel takes the spot next to you on the couch and you inch towards him, glad for any kind of support even though you have no clue what is about to happen.

“We- We’re still trying to piece everything together,” Tommy says, his voice quiet and solemn. You tense ever so slightly, listening intently. You're not sure you want to know how or why or any of the other details that will undoubtedly make this more real.

“There was a note in- with her,” he goes on, seemingly choosing his words very carefully. “She said she left you a letter, back at home.” Your eyes automatically fly to Tommy’s sides, half expecting him to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. He seems to notice your train of thought.

“We're still going through her room, just to make sure- we just want to be certain this happened the way she says it did,” he finishes quietly. You can feel two pairs of eyes on you, but you just nod. Of course. Someone could’ve murdered her and staged it as a suicide. Somehow, that idea didn’t cross your mind. Maybe because you don't think anyone could ever truly hate Lane nearly enough to wish her harm or maybe simply because you already seem to feel in your stomach that her life ended on her own terms.

Joel and Tommy exchange a few glances until Joel awkwardly clears his throat and reaches out to take the plastic container from him. “I'll put this in the fridge.”

The younger brother keeps his eyes on you as you listen to Joel rummaging in the kitchen. His hand awkwardly reaches for your shoulder, hovering above it for a moment before patting it lightly. “I'm so sorry, kid.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” you manage to press out, your own gaze fixed on the opposite wall. You don't want to see the look again, the same one Joel had back at the cabin. In fact, you think you may never want anyone to look at you ever again.

You're still staring at the same spot when the two men head towards the front door a few minutes later. Their voices are low and they must be standing half outside, if the cold creeping into the house is anything to go by. You know their words are not meant for your ears but you still stay absolutely still, listening.

“I’ll bring the letter by tomorrow, okay? Let her get it over with,” Tommy mumbles and you think you hear him shuffling his feet again.

“Yeah, yeah, you do that,” Joel responds, equally quiet. There is a moment of silence. They haven't had a moment to talk about all this, for Joel to consider if he of all people should be the one to take care of you. 

Tommy seems to think along the same lines, even though you can't begin to guess the depth of their seemingly simple words.

“Are you okay to-?” 

Joel gives a shaky nod. “Yeah, ‘ts fine. She needs someone and- Ellie’s staying with Dina for a few days, until we've figured things out.”

Tommy doesn't know what to say. He carefully takes in Joel's face, or at least what he can make out of it in the dim light of the porch. He goes for a hug instead, wrapping his arms around his brother for a fleeting moment, a hand rubbing over the older man's back. “Either of you need anything, we're all here.”

His voice has dropped enough for you not to overhear the last part.

Maybe it's because Joel's own hearing is bad, but he doesn't seem to realize you've been listening when he comes back into the room a few moments later. “I'm sure they'll be done tomorrow. But we should all try and get some sleep now.” He takes a step towards you, gently running his hand over the top of your head. “I put some fresh sheets onto the bed upstairs while you were out. I don't want ya sleeping on the couch.”

You're too tired and exhausted to protest. Besides, you know it would be a waste of time. So you let him help you upstairs, let him wait right outside the bathroom door as you brush your teeth and let him tuck you into bed, the soft sheets a stark contrast against your dirty and scratched up skin. Joel looks down at you for a moment, his fingers tapping against his leg.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

It's almost embarrassing how fast you jump onto the offer, nodding as you finally meet his eyes again. He looks concerned and sad and you hate that you're the cause of it. But you also want his company, more than anything.

Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you shortly afterwards. He’s changed into pajamas, made up of a pair of brown plaid pants and a cream-colored, worn shirt. Compared to you, he actually looks put together. You can see his outline beside you, the candle on his nightstand the only source of light left in the room. It gives everything a dim, orange glow, distantly reminding you of a sunset.

You're suddenly aware of how very heavy your head feels, far too heavy to be held up by your neck. There are too many thoughts in there, you think, they don’t have enough room to breathe. Or to make sense. The faulty wires are back. And they keep your synapses from connecting correctly. Nothing makes sense. 

‘We just want to be certain this happened the way she says it did.’

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice comes out small and still, it seems too loud in the quiet around you.

“Anything,” comes the response, equally quiet even though Joel's voice sounds more steady than yours. You ponder your words for a few moments and you feel him shift beside you, propping his head up on one arm to get a better look at your face. “What is it, darlin’?”

“They brought her back to Jackson, right?”

Joel seems to consider his words for a moment, then he nods slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, they did.” Even in the dim light, you can feel his eyes on you, searching your face. You turn your face away from him, staring at the stacked records in the corner instead.

“Why would someone go through all that trouble? Bringing her so far out?” The words coming out of your mouth seem as much a surprise to you as they are to Joel. You can hear him suck in a breath beside you. The mattress dips below his weight as he sits up.

“Can you look at me for a moment?”

You obey, turning your head and resting your cheek against your shoulder. You can see Joel's face above you. He looks like he's about to cry. You must be very tired, you think to yourself. Joel Miller doesn't cry.

Before your eyes and mind can drift away again, he swallows and speaks up again, the southern drawl in his voice more present than ever.

“Honey- No one made her go.”

His words are slow, carefully chosen. He knows he is treading a fine line here.

“She did it herself, darlin’.” A small frown has spread over his face, his eyebrows knitted together. “I told you earlier, downstairs. Don’t you remember?”

You shake your head, painfully aware that the gentleness in his tone is back, the same one he’s had earlier at the cabin. You think you know all the things he’s telling you, but you can’t recall Joel saying it. The picture of him in front of the couch appears before your eyes, but you can’t make out the words coming out of his mouth. Again, you find yourself surprised that you're the one who speaks instead.

“Did anyone check her?” 

He pauses at that, the frown deepening. “What do you mean?” 

You take a small breath, your fingers pulling at a loose thread of the sheets below you. “I mean, did they check if she's really-” You pull a little harder and the thread breaks, the thin piece of fabric remaining in your palm.

You wonder if they have wrapped her up yet. If someone’s put fresh clothes on her. If anyone has checked her pulse.

“What if she's not dead?”

“I need you to listen to me.” His voice is slightly more urgent now. “I saw her. And she's gone. I'm so sorry and I wish she wasn't and I know-” His voice comes dangerously close to breaking but he only gives a tiny shake of his head and presses on.

“I know how difficult this must be but you need to understand this. She's gone. She's not coming back.”

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing or commenting, i promise it will be the highlight of my day <3

[ancientbygone]

simulacra 3 [take me back to eden]

[sundowning] [tpwbyt]

Sleep's mimic forms of the vessels during the time period of TMBTE, because i can't be normal and start a series from the beginning and not the end.

more info + design breakdowns under the cut:

[obligatory "when talking about the vessels, i'm talking about characters" disclaimer]

background info on the whole idea:

Sleep as a being is shapeless in my mind; more of a concept than a creature. it can manifest as sort of an absence of light in any shape to others, usually to appeal to feeling/emotion. the only "rule" for that is that whatever Sleep tries to appear as cannot look more or less innocent/powerful than Sleep actually is, which usually manifests in two things: the size being different from the thing/person it's imitating, scaled according to power, and/or added features, usually in some way threatening or regal.

one of Sleep's more consistent forms it takes throughout interacting with Vessel is mimicking him, partially to create an illusion of the two being more similar than they actually are and partially because Sleep used to exist as Vessel's shadow when they'd just met. the visual itself has changed through time (you can see what it was like during Sundowning in my Higher artwork), and during TMBTE that visual is pretty much the titular song's character with the most minor tweaks (which is why i didn't draw it separately).

all that made me think about the idea of Sleep mimicking the other vessels just to fuck with Vessel further (to be clear, i am a strong believer that Sleep only interacts with Vessel in any way). so now here are the designs of those mimics during the events of TMBTE, utilizing the album's song characters much like the Vessel mimic. because again, i have to start a series from the end, i guess.

"ii"/ii mimic (song character used: AYROK)

the main idea driving the design of "ii" is the real ii's goal to keep Vessel more or less safe by being by his side in worshipping Sleep, which is the reason he'd decided to become the second vessel in the first place. the choice of AYROK as the character to use in this design is obvious. one of the ideas that stem from that is ii's duty/desire to keep his face hidden for Vessel's sake; only his hands are visible & detailed because that's the only part of him Vessel remembers before either of them became vessels of Sleep and the only part ii has really shown after that. another is ii's timidity in telling Vessel to go against Sleep's will because he fears that no matter how bad it may be, it'll be much worse if Vessel doesn't follow it. that part comes through in the pose - shyly holding his hands together as if they're tied.

"iii"/iii mimic (song character used: Aqua Regia)

the song character inspo being Aqua Regia is mostly because of the calmer nature of the song and the dynamic duo it makes with Vore, less so the themes of the lyrics. also its visual design. iii mimic's design themes are iii's adoration/borderline obsession with Vessel (wearing Vessel's jewelry and having elements of his robe in his shirt + his own face/mask slowly melting off) and his enagement with worship as an act/aesthetic rather than something more serious (the overabundance of jewelry and accessories; the extra arms; the body language; the cuffs around his arms and legs being decorative and not actually restricting). also the rings on his fingers make a checkered pattern.

"iv"/iv mimic (song character used: Vore)

the use of Vore for "iv" is obvious too. song wouldn't be the same without his real life self. the design really just aims to combine iv with the Vore character, but there are two big things here. the simplest one is anger issues, which is why he's So Goddamn Spiky and why his jacket looks like scarred skin rather than painted & customized. the anger mostly shows up in the body language: most of the time "iv" just stares unblinkingly with pure palpable ire in the two glowing dots for eyes, and when he does move it's very stiff and snappy and barely controlled. the other thing is that, simply speaking, the real iv got into this whole mess without knowing the full extent of it and now he's in too deep and kinda losing himself. in the design it's expressed through the human features gradually turning into bug-like, such as the hoodie fading into a segmented millipede-like body and the fucked up mantis hands, and the gold of the original iv's mask melting over the face with the horns being part of it. the spikes protrude from him in a way that makes it difficult to distinguish between jacket decorations and actual parts of his body, but the spines are definitely from his body & allow me to live the dream of iv with a mohawk LMAO

anyway have fun with these go nuts i'll make similar sheets & posts for Sundowning and TPWBYT eventually

[dg-outlaw]

Batman insists that whenever Scooby and the gang are in or near Gotham City, he or one of the others is there to look out for them (just in case). But what happens when his only two options are Jason Todd and Stephanie Brown?

A fun, romantic, and ridiculous idea I had that's proving to be quite interesting, tonally. Expect some meta commentary and hijinks.

What I'm hoping to be a 3-part series for JaySteph Weekend 2024 (August 9th - 11th), hosted by @jaystephevents

Enjoy a snippet from my WIP below. ❤️💜

Jason Todd is bad news. Or so that was the general warning she got every time the former dead Robin’s name came up. Yes, he used to be Robin and he used to be dead. He’s neither of those things now, but that’s a story for a different day and not hers to tell.

Continuing to scroll Jason’s file on the Batcave computer, Stephanie Brown wondered what Batman had planned for them. His message to her was cryptic as usual, but he wanted to meet her and Jason at the cave. She assumed she was in trouble if it involved Jason as well, but she couldn’t recall anything she had done wrong or them having crossed paths recently. Maybe it was something else, but she had only ever interacted with Jason a few times, and mostly when they were in their gear as their respective alter-egos, Red Hood and Spoiler. Surely, Batman wasn’t planning on having them work together. Jason was the outsider in their little Gotham vigilante world, and sometimes an antagonist, and she was the wildcard nuisance that refused to go away. Either way she was told more often than not to keep her distance from the Red Hood. Tim, her ex, was not a fan of his and most of the things she’d heard about Jason came from him. Reckless, impulsive, dangerous, not afraid to kill, and uncontrolled anger issues. Those were the descriptions she often heard attributed to Jason, and they were confirmed by the profile on the screen in front of her.

Despite some meditation and a boba tea before she got to the manor, she was still feeling nervous and on edge, and not just because she was worried about being in trouble, but wondering why her and why Jason. She had no idea what he might’ve done, but she was ready to defend herself against whatever complaint or criticism Bruce might have. She knew he could be a real grump sometimes, hell, he was a grump most of the time, but she had been through too much over the years to just sit back and take a scolding from Bruce without a word in response. Despite his and Tim’s protests, she had proven herself as Spoiler, had been Robin for a hot minute (another story for another day… or maybe never), and had recently proven that she could be Batgirl. The only reason she was Spoiler again was because she needed a break and wanted Cass to take the role of Batgirl again while she focused on school. Cass had suggested they do it together, but being Batgirl after Barbara Gordon and Cassandra Cain was a big deal in her book already. Doing it alongside the perfect ninja? That was something completely different. 

“The Wikipedia article is more detailed,” came a smooth deep voice from behind her.

“Cheese and rice!” she cried out as she almost jumped out of Batman’s chair.

She turned, one knee still tucked up by her chest and the other tucked up on the chair, ready to jump, run, or fight, and that’s when she saw him, looking at her and chuckling. “Sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes and tried to act as if Jason hadn’t just scared the bejeezus out of her, but the smirk on his face said he wasn’t buying it. Only Bruce and Cass, and sometimes Tim, were able to sneak up on her without her knowing. It used to be all of them when she first became Spoiler, but her senses and stealth skills had improved, which annoyed Tim because she was now able to sometimes sneak up on him. “It’s fine,” she lied. 

Having only ever seen him with his big red helmet covering his face or from a distance with his domino mask on, he was more good-looking than she’d expected and maybe just as tall, if not taller than Bruce. She also noticed the patch of white hair just above his forehead, mixed among the unruly dark waves of the rest of his hair, was a bit more prominent. The photos in his file were older and from his Robin days, and the more recent ones were grainy surveillance photos, but seeing him up close was different. She found herself studying him, noticing the scar on his neck just below his square jaw, but underneath the dark gaze of his blue-green eyes his soft smile revealed a remnant of the happy young boy she had seen in those old photos. He was definitely handsome and could probably be an underwear model as a side gig if he needed extra money, but he also appeared older than his age.

Ugh, now I’m thinking about him in his underwear. Stop it, Steph.

Thankfully, he wasn’t in his underwear, but was wearing dark jeans and a plain gray t-shirt that fit way too snug on his muscled upper body. His hair was a bit shorter than the last time she had seen him out in the field, but maybe it was a summer haircut. He was young enough to be her peer, someone she could imagine as an upperclassman in one of her Gotham U classes, but also looked weathered by tragedy and anger.

“Wait, there’s a Wikipedia article about you?”

[fairyofsilence]

RISING STAR | 1/7 | THAT’S THE INDUSTRY, BABY SERIES |

Pairing: Producer!Namjoon x Trainee!Reader

Warnings (there's important trigger warnings mentioned, read each one of them carefully and proceed with caution): +18, Yandere, grooming, age gap (reader is 19 while Namjoon is 31), cursing, extreme abuse of power, manipulation, reader has a bad relationship with her mother, self-deprecation, reader has a low self esteem, mentions of unhealthy diets, mentions of toxic beauty standards, both explicit and non explicit sexual scenes; oral sex (m and f reciving), fingering, spanking, protected sex, sex in the work place, loss of virginity, mentions of blood, slight dubcon (she agrees to have sex after he coaxes her into it), mentions of aftercare, mentions of sex, recording of sexual acts without a partner's knowledge, blackmail, forced relationships.

Summary: It's the opportunity of a lifetime, everything you have ever wished for has been presented to you on a silver platter, becoming the next rising star of the critically acclaimed producer Kim Namjoon was a dream come true.

Too bad you are to naive to confuse a nightmare for a blessing.

I don't agree nor condone any of the actions made by any of the characters throughout the story, I also do not belive that any of the members of BTS would act this way or have this type of behaviour, this story it's fiction and it's written with the sole purpose of entertainment.

Word count:  11.3 k

This is the first of seven parts for the That's the industry, baby series, you cand find my main masterlist here. The stories can be read as one shots, the stories just take place in the same universe.

Hello again! It’s been a while, believe me I know, and I also know I’ve been announcing this fic since practically a year now but get this: I’m a depressed college student who loves to procrastinate, but I shit you not tonight I said “fuck it” and finished this enitre fic in eight hours, this is extreamly unedited and I’m posting this at 6 a.m, I’m not even sure I’ll be able to edit this until June but until then please enjoy and let me know what you think! I created this series because I’ve always been shocked at the ammount of disgusting things the entertainment industry has try to hide from the general public, and this series will tackle most of that, withouth more introductions, here’s the first of them, enjoy!

EDITED ON 05/27/2023

You haven’t moved an inch since you’ve put your eyes on the board.

 You’re trembling, you can feel the air starting to leave your lungs, but you don’t seem able to take a breath because you feel like if you so much as blink, the announcement will disappear from the board, and it all just be an illusion.

 But it’s not an illusion, you’re actually looking at the announcement on the board right now, the letters are big, bright, and bold, and there’s no doubt that what you’re looking at now is your name next to the word “Congratulations.”

 “Congratulations Y/N Y/L/N, you won!

You’ve been chosen as Rkive records new rising star.

For more details, check the inbox on your email in which you’ve been send the instructions on what to do next.”

 All sound seemed to quiet down, you couldn’t hear a single thing except a striking white noise ringing on your ears, and although you can feel some of the trainees jumping around trying to congratulate you, you can’t seem to do anything right now, your body is paralyzed, your eyes fill up with tears and you feel as if your heart had gone all the way up to your throat.

 You’ve won, you’re finally going to debut, Kim Namjoon had chosen you.

 It feels surreal, you’ve been waiting for this moment, four years to be exact, and it has finally going to happen, your biggest dream was just a day away from becoming true, a small laugh leaves your mouth at the thought, you’ve made it, you finally made it happen.

 Reality comes back to you in the form of a hug, you realize the person who’s hugging you is Soowon, one of the newest trainees who, after you got her out of trouble with the singing coach, decided to attach herself to you and proclaim the two of you as best friends, she seems more excited than you right now, jumping around while trying to not break the hug, somehow you manage to wrap your arms around her, giving her a weird side hug, but she doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seems even more excited after you returned the hug.

 “You did it! I know you would win” She says after hugging me a little bit tighter “It was only a matter of time before this happened, you’ve been working so hard” You feel a tear rolling down your cheek after her words, you finally turn around to return the energy of the hug and while rubbing your back, she whispers onto your ear “I know you’ll be the biggest star of this company Y/N, I’ve known it since the day we met”

 You allow yourself to feel the praise and hugs from your fellow trainees because you know that once you step a foot inside of your apartment, you know that your biggest obstacle from you reaching your dreams is waiting for you inside, so just for a few more hours, you let yourself be happy, because you know that when she finds out about the news you received today, a light argument is the best thing you can’t expect.

Your mother is already at your apartment by the time you got home, and that was the first weird thing you noticed.

The second was that she made dinner, your mother never makes dinner, she always works until late in the night and you’ve survived on rice and instant ramen because of that, but tonight she seems to gone all out, there’s even meat at the table for god sake, and that’s how you know there’s only two reasons behind this happening; she was either fired or she got a new, better paying job, and you’ll be very surprised if it ends up being the latter.

 She has never been good at maintaining a job, and for someone who’s been poor her whole life, she doesn’t seem to understand that to maintain a job is to be quiet, the workers should never complain to their bosses, at least, that’s what you’ve learned during your time in the company.

 She notices your presence after you stand in the entrance for a while, then again, it’s not hard to do so, your apartment is not big enough for you to go unnoticed anyway, she turns off the stove and walks up to you with a smile, greeting you excitedly.

 “Hi sweetheart, sit down please, I’m just going to bring out some plates, okay?” You don’t say anything, but she doesn’t seem to mind the lack of response, turning away from you to grab two plates from the small kitchen cabinet while you set down your backpack and take a seat on the floor in front of the small table, your palms begin to sweat as you mentally prepare to tell your mother about the news, which you’re sure she won’t take kindly.

“How was your day? You usually come back earlier than this, I told you that this trainee stuff cannot interfere with school” And there she goes, you can even seat down in peace for five minutes before she starts listing all the stupid reasons why you should be a trainee, but today you won’t take any criticism from her, actually, today you’ll prove her just how wrong she’s been.

“It was great, I have good news actually” Your voice loses power for a bit, but you pull through it, your mother sits down and seems curious about the news for once.

“Yeah? What is it? You’re finally leaving that company for good? They’re the reason you got two years behind in school” Your eye twitches at her remark but you ignore her before dropping the bomb.

“No, it’s the opposite actually” Her eyebrows raise at that, and she looks at you expectantly before you say, “I’m signing my contract tomorrow, I’m going to debut soon.”

 The silence that follows after your words seems to last an eternity.

 Your mother puts her utensils down, she licks her lips and lets out a deep sigh after a few seconds, she doesn’t like this at all.

 “I was expecting good news” Her words feel like a dagger piercing right through your heart, but you maintain your posture, you can’t let her, and her hurtful words get to you.

“This is good news mom, don’t you understand? I wasn’t sign to a small company, Bangtan signed me, Kim Namjoon chose me” Your mother makes eye contact, and it makes you falter for a second, she always knows how to bring you down when you’re finally going up.

“Who put those ideas on your head? That Kim Namjoon that you always talk about?” Before you can even talk back she cuts you off before adding “Sweetheart, I thought you were smarter than this, when man want something, they’ll say anything to get you” You hate when she does this, when she makes you feel small, making you think you’re stupid without even listening to what you have to say, you hate her.

“First of all, I’m meeting him for the first time tomorrow, so no mother, he hasn’t been putting any ideas on me, and also, why are you acting so shocked at this? I’ve been training for years, you know that it was bound to happen, I’ve been working so hard for this moment to come and the only thing you can say is something negative, can you just say ‘congratulations’ at least? This is something important to me, can you at least pretend that you’re happy for me?” Your voice breaks by the end and instead of listening to your concerns, your mother decides to do what she does best; get defensive after you call her out.

“Why do you always just assume the worst of me darling? I’m just expressing my concern as your mother, is it wrong to be worried about who my daughter is going to be spending so much time with?” Her tone just manages to push you over the edge every time, you don’t even realize you’re crying until a teardrop land on your lap, you’re quick to wipe your tears before she gets the satisfaction of knowing she can affect you so much, you make eye contact with her before responding.

“Why can you just be happy for me mom?” You’re tired of arguing, but as usual, she doesn’t notice how you feel.

"I'm just worried about you, darling. You know that the career you want is risky. What if they change their minds and leave you without warning? What if you get injured before you even have a chance to perform? And what if they decide you're not good-looking enough after a few years? Have you thought about what you'll do then?" The venomous words spill out of her mouth so effortlessly that you're taken aback. Even your mother seems surprised by what she just said, but she doesn't backtrack or apologize. She only looks at you with a guilty expression, her eyes betraying her harsh tone. You let out a bitter chuckle before responding.

“You know what mom? I don’t think you’re worried” you say, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap before voicing the thoughts that have been on your mind for a long time “I think you’re jealous” The silence in the room was so prominent you could hear a pin drop “I know you were young when you had me and I’m sorry I screwed up your life, but your misery is not my fault, I have to live my own life and make my own path, and being an idol is the path that I chose, so I’ll let things clear for you, you either accept my choices without any type of criticism or I’ll have to leave this place” You stand up and before she can respond, you leave her with this; “although, after signing my contract, I might just leave either way” with that, you make your way to your shared bedroom, not having the courage to say anything after your fight.

Later that night, you noticed your mother quietly slipping into bed, assuming you were already asleep. However, you struggled to find peace, tossing and turning as your thoughts continued to plague you. Every time you tried to close your eyes; you could only see the look on your mother's face after your confrontation. The night stretched on endlessly, and despite your efforts to find rest, sleep eluded you. The weight of guilt lay heavy on your heart, and you knew that the rift between you and your mother had only grown wider. Your once-fragile relationship now seemed completely shattered. However, you were resolute in your decision to pursue your career and follow your dreams. While the thought of losing your mother was painful, the thought of losing this opportunity would have been even worse. With this assurance, you finally managed to drift off into unconsciousness, with the hope that tomorrow you’ll be able to forget about the tough time you went through tonight.

You don’t think you’ve ever been more nervous than you are right now.

 You can feel the cold sweat forming on the crown of your forehead, your body feels like a quivering mass of jelly, the subtle trembles barely perceptible to anyone but you, a physical manifestation of your own nervousness, you’ll be biting your nails too if you could, but ever since receiving the most shocking news of your life you don’t think there’s anything left for you to bite off.

 Today, if everything goes according to plan, you’ll become the newest artist under Rkive’s music records, the most prestigious record label in the entire country, owned by one of the most acclaimed producers of the decade, and your own personal God, Kim Namjoon.

 As you step into Rkive's gleaming headquarters, the air is charged with an indescribable energy. You can practically feel the prestige of the company pulsing through the walls, and the faint sound of music drifting through the halls is enough to send shivers down your spine. You check your phone for the last time just to make sure you got everything down, the instructions they gave you were simple, but your anxiety makes you feel hyperaware of everything, taking a deep breath while closing your eyes you try to calm yourself down, chill the hell out, you say to yourself, you’re going to weird him out, granted, Namjoon might not be weirded out by you but he’ll definitely would think you aren’t ready for this and that’s not the case at all, you've worked so hard for this opportunity, and you won't let your anxiety get in the way now that you're so close to being signed, especially by someone like Namjoon, and given his reputation, being signed by him would be the ultimate validation of your hard work and talent.

 Kim Namjoon isn’t an easy man to impress, because not only has he worked with the biggest stars in the industry, but also, any music related award you can think of; he most likely already has won at least two of those, and if his experience wasn’t intimidating enough, his unwavering commitment to achieving perfection on every aspect of his music is both impressive and intimidating, commanding respect from those around him, and you definitely respect him, in fact, there's no one in the world that you look up more than Namjoon, you want to impress him, make him remember who you are, make him wish he had discover you sooner, you want your idol to want you as desperately as you want him, and you won’t leave this building until you accomplish that.

 As you approach the front desk, the receptionist glances up at you with raised eyebrows, silently urging you to speak. Though her harsh glare could be intimidating, you're determined to stay focused on the reason you’re here. You won't let her nasty glare affect you, not even a little bit.

 You take a deep breath and greet her politely, "Hi." Even though she might be looking down on you, you refuse to be rude. You state your business clearly, "My name is Y/N, and I have a meeting with Mr. Kim Namjoon today in his studio."

At the mention of his name, her glare softens up a bit, but still looks annoyed, with a monotone voice, she says “Wait for just a second please” before reaching for the telephone on the desk, it’s only a matter of seconds after calling when the other line picks up, they exchange a couple of words that you can’t decipher and after she hangs up, she looks back at you with a fake smile before standing up, she speaks with a more cheerful tone this time “Mr. Kim’s assistant is coming down to escort you to his studio, please wait for a moment, you’re welcome to sit down in the lounge as you wait” the receptionist points at the small waiting lounge that’s right in front of the elevators, you whisper her a small thank you before making your way over there, sitting down on the individual sleek black leather couch, impatiently waiting for his assistant to come out of one the elevators.

After sitting there for just a few minutes, you begin to feel very out of place, everything in this building looks, feels, and even smells expensive, and somehow here you are, a nameless trainee with second hand bought clothes, with the smallest, cheapest purse which you keep holding on tightly into your lap, shrinking into yourself more each minute that passes by.

You’ve never had a high self-esteem, but it seems the small bit of confidence you’ve had has disappear after knowing that you’ve won the contest and you will be meeting Kim Namjoon in person, you’re scared, your mind tormenting you with all the “what if?” questions, what if he decides you’re not actually the one?, what if he thinks you’re not good enough?

 What if?, what if?, what if?

 Before you can think about any more ways on how this whole thing could go wrong, the small ding sound of the elevator pulls you away from your thoughts, you’re quick to stand up and soon after that, a short, petite woman steps out of the elevator, her eyes find you quickly after coming out and a small smile appears on her face as she approaches you, clutching a clipboard on her hands.

 “Hi!” Her cheerful tone catches you by surprise, but you smile nevertheless “You’re Y/N right?” you answer her with a small nod, which she ends up mimicking before talking again “I’m Sohee, I’m Namjoon’s assistant, do you have everything we asked you to bring?” you respond with a small ‘yes’ before making a gesture towards your bag, she nods again before signaling the elevator “Follow me please, I’ll take you to his studio so you can talk for a bit before signing” You’re quick to follow her request by stepping into the elevator next to her, she presses the button of the 14th floor and you both wait until the doors close and the elevator starts running, Sohee turns to you and smiles before asking “Nervous?” You let out a small laugh before answering.

“Very, I can’t believe this is happening right now” Your palms begin to sweat, and she laughs as you wipe your hands on your pants, you decide to redirect the conversation towards her “So, how long have you’ve been working for him?” Sohee’s eyes widen up a little bit after your question, she seems genuinely surprised by your interest, but she answers either way.

“Three years next month, my best friend got me this job actually, it’s sort of a long story but to keep things short, she works with Kim Taehyung, he told her about Namjoon needing an assistant and that’s how I landed here” She speaks very fast and you have a hard time catching what she’s saying, but before you can respond, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors begin to open, you’re welcomed by a similar lounge than the one in the reception, only that this lounge had a large plaque that read “Rkive Music Records” in a beautiful gold color, the letters engraved in a pitch-black tone, if you though the lobby looked expensive, Namjoon’s floor was a whole different level.

 “Follow me please, I’ll lead you to his office, he’s already waiting for you” Her words make you shiver, you can’t believe it’s finally happening, the excitement is making your legs shake and you can barely breath as you make your way through the long hallway, passing the small reception desk and several doors of what you can assume are different studios.

 Sohee comes an abrupt stop, causing you to hold your breath until she turns to look at you and with a bright smile, she gestures the door right in front of you, which holds a sleek, platinum plaque with Kim Namjoon’s name engraved on it, you gulp and letting out a deep sigh, she says “This is it, good luck!” She holds up two thumbs and you let a nervous laugh at her antics, she leaves quietly and just like that you’re left on your own, with a shaky hand, you reach to know on the studio’s door, you only have to wait for a couple of seconds, but you’re anxiety is making it seem like time going slower than it actually is, you’re beginning to lose your mind until finally, the door handle turns and you’re face to face with the person you’ve never thought you’ll ever see this close, Kim Namjoon stands right in front of you, with a big smile on his face, his dimples only making him look even more attractive, his dark hair is pulled back and he’s wearing all black, he looks hot and he knows it, that’s what makes him more dangerous, it seems like an eternity before he opens his mouth and says, “Well hello there” His deep voice makes you even more nervous, “You must be Y/N, please, come in” Granted, he chose you as the winner of the contest, he must know your name, it’s logical, but your inner fan cannot believe your idol just said your name so casually, you compose yourself before you answer him with an enthusiastic nod, not forgetting to bow before anything, Namjoon let’s out a chuckle before leaning against the wall to make room for you to walk in, you’re quick to follow, entering his studio while a timid “Thank you” leaves your lips.

 The first thing you notice about his studio is how big it is, you had expected nothing less than this, giving that he’s the owner of this record label, but it still doesn’t make it any less shocking, you almost feel ashamed of the fact that his studio seems to be bigger than your shared apartment with your mom. When you first walk in, there’s a small hallway that leads you to the main part of his studio, but instead of a wall, there’s a huge glass to showcase his biggest accomplishments, his awards are perfectly lined up in multiple shelves and there’s some of his biggest songs displayed with as either platinum or gold records, some of the movies he has produced the soundtrack of are also displayed by a frame with the poster on it, you don’t realize you stopped following him until he reached out to tap you in the shoulder, you turned to look at him and you found him with a teasing smirk on his face, you give him a shy smile in return.

 “Sorry, I was just admiring everything" Your face feels hot, and he lets out a deep chuckle that makes you shiver, his presence alone makes you nervous, and having him smiling and talking to you with that deep voice of his was making you crazy.

"Don't worry, it’s a bit overwhelming isn’t it?” You nod and Namjoon imitates the action “Hobi says that all the time when he comes by” The casual mention of such a huge star makes your eyes go wide and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he smiles widely and you could swear he mouthed the word cute, but you couldn’t tell if you were just imagining things or if it actually happened, so you only smiled and continued to follow him through the hallway.

 And if you thought the hallway was something, you weren’t prepared to see his actual studio, in fact, you couldn’t even process your surroundings because Namjoon put his right hand on your lower back, a weird feeling washed all over you but noticing he was guiding you to a small sofa, you turned to look at him and he only gestured with his other hand for you to take a seat, suddenly, your nerves made you feel silly, of course he was just being nice, you were just paranoid.

 “Please take a seat and get comfortable, it’s going to be a pretty long session” Namjoon chuckles after that and you let out an awkward laugh.

 His studio was so intimidating, you couldn't even sit down in peace without thinking you'll probably break something that cost more than your apartment, sensing your nervousness, Namjoon puts his hand on your shoulders while giving you a reassuring smile.

 "Don’t panic, everything's going well" You give him a small nod, and he turns his back after you finally seem to catch your breath, walking towards what seems to be a mini fridge "Would you like something to drink? I have water, some energy drinks" Namjoon pauses and looks up at you with a teasing smile, his dimples full on display, this man would be the death for you "I have beer as well, if you can handle it" He raises an eyebrow and it makes you giggle, Namjoon seems to love your reaction, but he waits patiently for your answer, you compose yourself and finally give him an answer.

“Water is fine, thank you” Your voice is barely audible, but you don’t stutter so you consider that a win, Namjoon nods and pulls two water bottles from the mini fridge, and makes his way to his chair after closing the door.

“So, let’s start talking business, shall we?” Namjoon says after handing you the bottle and sitting down in a chair, the only thing between you and him being the small coffee table where a leather folder lays over it, as well as two fancy looking pens.

“Okay” You agree, and Namjoon’s aura seems to take a shift, exuding power and knowledge, two things you very much lack off.

“So, I’m assuming that you read the contract when you entered the contest, right?” His gaze is so intense it makes you grip on the edge of your skirt tightly, responding with a nod because you know that your voice will give out if you try to speak right now, Namjoon takes your answer before continuing, “Basically, the contract says that we’re making an EP, you will be making all types of promotions and you will be making a music video for the main track, I have some songs ready and while I personally think the artist should have an input on the songs, we were given only two months to deliver a full EP, so as soon as you sign we’ll begin to work, okay?” Your enthusiastic nod makes him smile “Perfect, do you have any concerns about the contract? You should ask questions before signing, you know?” That makes you genuinely laugh, and Namjoon seems happy he has eased your mood a little.

“The contract is only for an EP, right?” Your tone is a bit steadier and Namjoon nods before explaining.

“Yes, but I’m sure your EP will be a success, which means a more permanent contract” Namjoon can sense you tensing up at the probability, so he surprisingly, reaches out to squeeze your thigh before adding “Someone as talented as you shouldn’t be worried about that, your debut will go better than you expect, I’ll make sure of that” His words feel like a soft blanket, providing comfort to your worries, the current position of his hand makes you nervous, but you pay it no mind as you nod and smile, Namjoon is just being friendly, there’s nothing to be scared about.

“So, what about management? Who is going to be my manager?” Your question makes him smile and you’re shocked to the core when his index finger rises up to point at himself, there’s no fucking way “But Mr. Kim, you’ve never- “Namjoon cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

“There’s a first time for everything, right?” You’re speechless and Namjoon takes your silence as a cue to keep talking, “You know, when I saw your audition, I was starstruck, I even got mad at the management because how in the fuck have they kept you training for so long? Such a talented person deserves to be seen by the whole world” His dragon shaped eyes look directly into yours and you’re left breathless by his praise, hearing those words coming from his mouth seemed unreal “I wanted to be in control of your debut because while this people might have underappreciated your talent, I saw your potential right from the start” His praise makes you feel dizzy and you can’t believe what’s happening right now, you can barely register him reaching out for one of the pens at the table, putting in one of your palms before he asks “What do you think then, would you give me the chance to make you the star you’re meant to be?” You almost feel hypnotized, slowly nodding your head while gripping the expensive pen on your hand, Namjoon’s smile almost seems to shine as he hands you the leather folder containing the contract, you read quickly through the pages before reaching the final one, where your name is beneath a long line, waiting only for your signature, because Namjoon had already signed this.

 With a trembling hand and with a deep sigh, you put the folder on your lap and click on the small button on the pen, you only pause for a second before signing the contract, you’re still in the clouds even after looking at your signature on the strikingly white paper, you lift your head only to see Namjoon looking at you with mischief written all over his face, his eyes seem to hide something you can’t quite decipher, but he soon opens his mind to let you know exactly what his thoughts are.

 “Don’t worry darling, I’ll make sure you become the biggest star this company has ever seen.”

 You knew that becoming an artist was never going to be an easy job, but the amount of times you’ve stayed working late this week alone was ridiculous, turns out, the rumors about Namjoon’s work ethic were true, his perfectionism was driving you insane, the amount of times he had asked you to start a song all over again because he wasn’t a ‘100% sure’ if he like the way you sounded almost made you bang your head against the recording booth wall, but you didn’t, you stayed put, only smiling and responding by putting your thumbs up until he gave you the sign to get ready to start recording again. You sang until your throat became sore, you danced until you stopped feeling your limbs, the fatigue was quickly catching up to you and everything started to pile up fast, you needed to memorize all lyrics and choreographies in less than two months without mentioning all the physical changes the agency was demanding from you, your mother’s words ringing loudly through your ears every time you were reminded to not eat until you were done for the day and even then, your single daily meal would barely make you feel full, you had to control your hunger by eating a small bowl of ice cubes and drinking water.

 You were in the verge of a breakdown when one night after your first month of working together, Namjoon had finally told you that you did great and that you could come out to join him while he worked, you were so caught up with singing your heart out that you didn’t realized that Namjoon had ordered dinner for the two of you, you thanked him by giving him a small bow and a tired smile, he only gestured her to sit down and to eat, and you did exactly that, pulling your chair closer to him before sitting down, to which you could see from the corner of your eye that he smirk at your actions.

 “I didn’t ask for what you liked but I supposed that you can’t go wrong with McDonald’s” Namjoon said while putting his earphones down to his neck and grabbing his own dinner, you made a hand gesture to let him know that it’s fine, McDonald’s right now seems like heaven to your starved stomach.

“It’s okay, you shouldn't worry about me, I would’ve eaten something at home” You dig into some fries and Namjoon sends you a look you can’t quite comprehend.

“Nonsense, how can I not worry about you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed about the stupid diets the company is forcing you to do” You freeze at his words and Namjoon lets out a deep sigh before adding “You should’ve told me before; I would’ve done something earlier” His concern makes you feel guilty, so you try to make excuses to make him (and yourself) feel better.

“They’re just making sure I look good before the filming starts, I have to look my best before debuting, you know that” You can’t even look at him while you’re talking, you don’t know if it’s your shitty diet or Namjoon’s words that make you lose your appetite, but he wasn’t content with your answer, pulling his chair even closer to you, forcing you to finally look at him in the eye for the first time tonight.

“It’s bullshit, you already look perfect to me” His words make your heart jump “And besides, if you don’t eat well, you won’t have enough energy for the live performances, so you better start eating good after today, you got that?” You haven’t even noticed than Namjoon’s hand has made it’s way to one of your thighs, whilst your knees were faintly brushing against his, his sudden closeness catches you off guard, but you make no effort to separate yourself from him.

 During this past month, you have started to catch up on some patterns, patterns that make you feel somewhat uneasy, because while you know it might just be your imagination, you can’t help but to realize how isolated you’ve become after you started to work on your EP, you haven’t spoken to any of your fellow trainee friends because, according to Namjoon, they might be jealous of your upcoming debut so you must focus on yourself right now, which is a fancier way of telling you to not speak to them, besides that, the only interactions you get outside of the building is with your mother, which, after your fight, your relationship with her now consisted on greeting each other at night and leaving the apartment before either one of you woke up, and while you talked with Sohee every now and then, the only constant human interaction you had for the past month has been with Namjoon, and while your silly crush on him remains very much alive, you can’t help but to feel like something isn’t right, his lingering touches make you jump every time it happens, and some of the things he says makes you feel uncomfortable, but you’ve blame it all on your nerves, the deadlines are approaching too fast and Namjoon is only trying to make things easier for you, it makes you feel ungrateful to doubt on him like this but you can’t help it, he’s a man with too much power and you think it’s only natural for someone in your position to feel like this.

 You brush off your inner dilemma when Namjoon asks you if you want to listen to your last recording, passing you a pair of headphones and waiting until you’ve put them before playing it, you’re soon welcomed by the perfect instrumental before hearing your voice through the headphones, no matter how many times you’ve done this by now, listening to your own voice feels just as exciting as the first time, the unfinished song quickly comes to an end, you and Namjoon continue to talk about minor details until you pause the conversation to drink some water, your focus on the large screen on Namjoon’s mixing table makes you unaware of the intense stare he has set on you.

 “Do you have a boyfriend?” Namjoon’s unexpected question takes you by surprise, and stare at the screen in shock before you can answer him.

“What?” You let an awkward laugh out as you look in his direction, his expression being unable to read. Your brain still can't comprehend a reasoning behind his question or why he would be interested in such meaningless matters, but he was your boss now, and you didn’t want to make him mad at you just because you felt a little uncomfortable by his question, so you responded “I don’t have a boyfriend, I never had one actually” You’re anxious and that makes you share more information than what he has asked for, however, he seems to take this information as if it was exactly what he needed to know, he leans back in his chair and gives you a teasing smile after your confession.

“Now that I can’t believe it” You're about to protest in your defense but he finishes what he wanted to say before you get a single word out of your mouth “A beautiful girl like you has never had a boyfriend? That just can’t be true” His smile grows bigger as you get more flustered by his compliments, his hand reaches out towards your hair and tucks the loose strand that covered one side of your face, caressing your cheek with his long fingers as you lean into his touch, welcoming his soft touch after longing for it for what felt like an eternity "I'm convinced now that boys your age simply cannot see a real women even if it’s right in front of them” Namjoon seems to thrive on the effect he has caused in you after you let out a shy giggle at his words, how does he always know what’s the right thing to say?, you feel so giddy inside you feel like you might burst with how happy you felt after hearing those words come out of his lips, did Namjoon really see you as a woman? You simply cannot believe it, a man like him would never set his sight on such a meaningless, young, and stupid girl like you, no, a man like him needed a mature and sophisticated woman who matched his good looks and graceful nature.

“You don’t mean that” Your lack of confidence makes you take distance from him by standing up and trying to walk away from him, but Namjoon seemed to have different plans.

 You gasped loudly as he spined you around before picking you up so easily and placing you over his mixing table, it was a little uncomfortable giving that you were sitting over so many buttons, but right now that didn't bother you in the slightest, especially now that his mouth has quickly found it’s way on yours, the two of you sharing a such a messy kiss that will make you feel ashamed if you were on your right mind, he bites your bottom lip and you let out a small whimper at his actions, Namjoon separates from you only after your lips are red and swollen,  you’re too far gone to notice him parting your legs open with his large hands, looking at you dead in the eyes as he slowly sinks down on his knees and you could help but to stare at him in shock.

 Kim Namjoon, the man who’s technically your boss and the man you have fantasized about for years, is getting down on his knees to pleasure you.

 "Namjoon, what are you.." He raises a single finger motioning you to be quiet and you quickly follow his command, he keeps looking at you as his hands make their way to your ass, gripping it tightly as you let out a soundless gasp.

"Don't you want it baby? I see the way you look at me" His deep voice lures you, his experience showing through on how easily he got you longing for more, his eyes leave yours as he starts kissing up from your knee to your inner thigh, giving you  goosebumps all over "Your pretty eyes light up whenever you see me, it drives me crazy, I can’t hold myself back any longer" He's the one that’s driving you crazy, touching you in ways no one ever has, making you feel desired, willing to give you all the pleasure you can take "Let me do this beautiful, let me taste that pretty pussy of yours" His crude words make you moan as his mouth gets closer to your cunt, you can't this anymore, you need him, as his hands start to grip your underwear, you softly grip his hair and make him look up at you, the sight of him is sinful, messy hair, his dragon eyes filled with lust and his beautiful lips are swollen after the kiss you shared, you need him so bad, you cradled his face in your hands as you speak.

"I just-I've never" You're so desperate for him you can't even form a proper sentence, he chuckles darkly and starts to pull at your underwear, the action making you even more anxious, and without thinking straight, you spit out the truth behind your nervousness "I'm a virgin" His antics stop and his eyes gleam with mischief, although he stopped his movements, his hands didn't move from their position.

"Do you want me to stop then? I would understand if you wanted to, but…" He takes a deep breath while he buries his face onto your inner thigh, you run your fingers through his hair before he speaks again "I really want to eat you out" Namjoon's word send a wave of shivers down your spine and while you’re scared shitless, you don't really feel like it's the right decision to deny a men like him the opportunity to pleasure a little nobody like yourself.

"I want that too" You whisper loud enough for him to hear and the dimples that appeared after you said that made you think that it was completely worth it to ignore your fears.

“I’ll be taking this off then” Namjoon’s deep voice gives you goosebumps as he pulls down your underwear, slowly dragging them down your legs until they hit your ankles, taking them off completely after that.

 You’re shaking and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

 His hands continue to brush up and down your hips, before making its way to the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly, opening your legs just a tiny bit more before starting to kiss on your inner thighs, your hands instantly reaching out to his hair, gripping it tightly at the roots, Namjoon lets out a deep groan that makes you shiver, his touch becomes rougher after your antics, bruising the inside of your thighs as his tongue lapped on your clit, you couldn’t recognize the sound that came out of your mouth, you’re moans becoming louder as his lips latch onto your clit, you can feel his fingers starting to tease your entrance, collecting your slick before pushing a single finger inside, he continues to make out with your cunt before easing a second finger inside you, and your brain stops working as soon as he easily finds your sensitive spot, pushing his fingers in and out quickly, making your eyes closing harshly and your thighs trap him as you let out a scream before coming on his tongue, your legs shaking as he greedily laps your orgasm, he doesn’t stop until you whimper in pain and pull at his hair trying to separate his mouth from you, Namjoon looks sinful with his lips glistening with your slick, you can’t help but moan as you look at him, his hands make their way to your neck and he harshly pulls you into a kiss, it’s so messy and you’re loving it, your small hands caress his back and after a while Namjoon ends the kiss while brushing your hair with his fingers, looking into your eyes before smiling.

 “You’re such a good girl baby, cumming into my tongue like that” His words make you blush, you’re face gets warmer and he laughs at your reaction “Don’t be shy now baby, not after you screamed my name like that” You hide your face into his chest from the embarrassment, and Namjoon continues to laugh as he embraces you in a tight hug.

This only last for a couple of minutes before he turns his head towards you, his mouth being dangerously close to your ear before whispering; “You know, good girls also return the favor” His words make you gulp and you know that it’s only fair what he’s asking for, hell, if it was any other man, he probably would’ve expected you to get on your knees without giving anything in return, and besides, you’re truly wondering how does Kim Namjoon taste like.

“I’ve never done it before” The deep groan that leaves his lips makes you tremble; he gives you a small kiss before smiling down at you.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll be guiding you ok?” You nod before standing up while holding hands with him, Namjoon takes a step back before sitting down on his chair and the look on his face makes your legs feel like jelly, with a low, deep voice, he commands “Get on your knees for me baby.”

Taking a step forward so your body fits inside his open legs, you slowly sink down onto your knees, Namjoon lazily motions at his crotch before saying “Go on then, pull my cock out.”

 Your nerves make your hands shake as you reach for his belt, unbuckling him with minimal effort was well as unbuttoning his pants with ease, Namjoon seems desperate with the way he’s helping you by dragging his pants mid down his thighs, his hard cock hitting his lower stomach, making your mouth water at the sinful sight, Namjoon smiles at your reaction “Take it with your hands baby, c’mon” your small hand reaches out to touch him and Namjoon lets out a hiss before adding; “Suck on my tip baby”.

 Gradually, with Namjoon’s help you soon started to set a slow peace, making him lose his mind at the sight.

 Your pretty young self on your knees, mouth full of his cock, gagging all over him making him go feral, he doesn't know why he's losing his mind this bad, truthfully, this isn't the best blowjob he's ever had, but it's the fact that it's your first time doing this, making him the only men who's ever gotten to see you like this makes his hips buckle into your mouth making you gag even louder, and he can't help but to let out a deep groan while gripping your hair even tighter. He must completely ruin you now, he needs to mark you so that every man knows who’s doing this to you, that you did everything you could to please him and him only, that you belong to him, forever.

 Your lazy blowjob only last for a couple more minutes before Namjoon decides he’s had enough, with a single pull of your hair, he forces you to separate your mouth from his cock, a trail of saliva connecting you to his tip, Namjoon has never seen something so hot in his life.

 You look up to him expectantly, and you can only let a small yelp after his strong arms push you up until your standing onto your shaky legs.

 He roughly bends you over his mixing table, his equipment making you feel slightly uncomfortable giving the position he had chosen but you stay put, not wanting to disappoint him, he coos at you for being so obedient and quietly apologizes is he has hurt you, you appreciate his concern and decide to wiggle your hips at him in anticipation, Namjoon laughs and spanks your ass, making you squeal and jump at the unexpected action, you feel him leaving his position behind you, you try to look for him without leaving the position he has put you in and you find him looking through one of his drawers, he's probably looking for a condom, you thought, and your suspicions turn to be correct, the platinum package shining under his studio lights, you can feel the anticipation running through your veins, you're about to have sex for the first time with none other than Kim Namjoon, you were one lucky bitch.

 While you feel excited, you're also anxious, what if he's not satisfied with what you have to offer? How can you compete with the types of women that have been like this with him? What if you're not enough for him?

 You're panicking and Namjoon only notices after taking a condom out of the box, he walks up at you and quickly wraps his arms around your waist and begins to shush you after your breathing starts to rapidly increase.

 "Relax baby, I'm not doing anything you don't want me to" He whispers into your hair and then gives you several pecks, his actions relaxing you only briefly before you start panicking again.

"I just… What if you don't like me afterwards?" You whisper pitifully while a single tear rolls down your cheek, Namjoon holds you even tighter after that.

"Oh baby, I feel like it's the opposite" His arms lift you enough so that he can kiss your cheek, helping you clear your negative headspace for a bit "I don't think having you just once it's going to be enough for me" You turn your head to look at him just to find him already staring at you, with one look you could tell that he means what he said, and that it's what makes you give in, you nod your head a couple of times and bend over the mixing table again, taking a deep breath and clutching at the border of his keyboard, you gain the courage to ask for what you want.

"Take me Namjoon, I want to be yours" You try to sound as sensual as you can but you don't think it worked giving how much your voice was trembling, but Namjoon savored each word that you just said, silly girl, of course you'll do anything to please him, and now that he knows he's going to be the first man to claim you, he's sure now that he won't let any other man taint you the same way he's going to.

 Coating his fingers with the remains of your previous orgasm, he starts by stretching you by inserting a single finger inside, your walls almost instantly gripping his finger tight  as you let out a loud moan, look at yourself, being such a good whore for him, he's going to reward you for being so good for him but right now the only thing on his mind is fucking you, so he quickly sets up his peace and starts to finger you, adding another finger inside and having his palm rub directly onto your clit, knowing that with your inexperience, this would probably be enough for you to cum once more.

 You couldn't even try to hold in your screams, everything felt like it was too much but also felt like it wasn't enough, you couldn't understand if you needed him to stop or to go even faster, his long fingers pumping into you and reaching all the right places, making you moan and close your eyes in pleasure, at this point you didn't even know your own name, the only thing you knew is that when he plugged a third finger inside of you, you were not going to last any longer.

 "Oh god! Namjoon, please-I, please" You couldn't even form a sentence, you wanted to tell him how desperate you were to cum, yet words came out of your mouth like a bunch of gibberish, you reach out to grip his arm and Namjoon was thrilled watching you struggle, the effect he has on you it's almost comical to him.

"It's alright baby, I know what you're trying to say," His other hand reaches out to roughly grab onto your breast and you're right there, needing that extra push to finally let go, and his next words are the push that make you climax "Cum on my fingers like the good girl I know you are".

 You felt like your soul left your body, if the first orgasm felt good, this one was heavenly, waves of pleasure rolling through your body in ways you couldn't describe, Namjoon stops his ministration but doesn't pull his fingers out, relishing how your release is coating his fingers as you're panting for air, he delivers a series of kisses into the back of your neck and lets you take several breaths before letting go of your body for a brief moment, you're about to ask him why he's pulling away but then you hear the sound of his pants drop into the floor, he rubs your lower back as he reaches for the condom, you look over your shoulder to find him ripping the package open and when noticing you having your eyes on him, he smirks as he rolls up the condom onto his length, you gulp as you're reminded that everything about Namjoon is huge, he doesn't take his eyes off of you as he finally positions himself behind you and rubs your hips as a form of reassurance, you smile at him and try to lift your hips a bit more, slightly rubbing your cunt against his cock, Namjoon hisses and spanks your ass after that, you let out whimper and his hands grip onto your hips.

 "Dirty girl, I'm trying to be nice to you and here you are, rubbing yourself all over me” His hand rubs your ass as he drags his cock up and down your opening, teasing you as he barely pushes in before backing out, repeating the action until he finally pushes in, filling you to the hilt, you whimper at the unfamiliar feeling and Namjoon shushes you at the sound “Sorry baby, does it hurt too much?” His voice flatters and you think he’s also having a tough time by containing himself like this, his struggle making you feel better.

“Doesn’t hurt, just feels weird” You weren’t lying, while Namjoon was on the bigger side, you were also wet enough and stretched for him, you only needed a couple of minutes before saying “You can move now.”

 It only took him a moment before grabbing your hips tightly and started to rapidly thrust into you, his actions making you grip the table for dear life as his movements quickly became all too much, with each snap of his hips, your body sunk into too a much deeper pleasure, your breast starting to bounce at the same time his hips slammed into your ass, you couldn’t control the screams that left your mouth with all the pleasure you were experiencing now.

 “Namjoon, fuck-baby” You don’t even understand what you’re saying, especially as Namjoon’s hands leave your hips as one of them reaches out for your throat and the other one reaches out for your clit, his fingers making fast circular motions that make you grip on his wrist, you have no force left to stop him from overstimulating you, you’re forced to take everything he gives you.

“It’s alright my love, cum for me, cum on my cock like the dirty slut you are” His degrading words only make you wetter, your legs shake and your body spams uncontrollably as you cum, your tight walls making it impossible to Namjoon to hold his own orgasm in, he comes hard clutches you tightly into his arms, slowly thrusting into you until his cock turns soft, only then he pulls out from you.

He looks down only to be greeted by the sight of your wet cunt, both of your thighs covered in a deep crimson shade, Namjoon chuckles darkly at this, he takes out the condom and discards it into the trash can before taking you in his arms, bringing you to lay down on his large dark sofa with him, you’re too far gone to notice his sinister smile as he looks into the top right corner of his studio, where the faint sight of a red blinking dot can be seen only for those who look for it, and Namjoon knew exactly where to look.

 He was after all, the person that set it right there.

The first time you stepped into the Bangtan building, you expected to be stared at, nobody knew who you were and being a stranger to them you couldn’t expect them to not be curious about you, plus, the stares started decreasing after they found out who you were and why you were there all of the sudden, but right now, the back of your head was burning with the amount of people looking shamelessly at you, and it wasn’t just the fact they were all staring, it was the fact that their looks were full of hatred, they were looking down at you and you don’t have a single clue of why would they do that, you’ve never been mean to any of the staff, you start to overthink in the middle of the hallway before you realize the reason why they could be staring, shit, do they know what happened last night between you and Namjoon? No, you quickly say to yourself, that’s impossible, no one else was in the floor when you and Namjoon got out of the studio until late hours of the night, he took you to his house, where you repeated what you did in his studio all over again in the late night, and in the early morning as well, but there still isn’t an explanation on why everyone had suddenly turned on you like this.

 For the last month, walking into Namjoon’s studio always felt like you were coming into the place you belonged, a safe space where you could be free and be yourself around him, but today, it felt like you were walking into your death sentence, you didn’t want to believe everyone found out because of last night, that couldn’t be true, right? Maybe Namjoon told Sohee that you were together now, and she probably spread the word around the label, right? Namjoon would never betray your trust like this, right?

 Wrong.

 You don’t find Namjoon in his studio, instead, you find a laptop on top of his mixing table, the screen is turned off but the sound it’s making and the turn on button being lit up tells you that it’s on, you take a seat in your usual chair but the sticky note over the screen makes you want to snoop in a little bit.

 “Here you go Hyung, and don’t worry about anything, it looks and sounds amazing ;)” What could it be? Namjoon didn’t say anything about working on anything else besides your EP, and he also said he wasn’t compromised with any projects right now, so you doubted this was about work, what could this be?, the curiosity got the best of you, so you move your fingers around the touchpad until the screen lit up.

 You didn’t want to look into his stuff without permission, but you were so curious about what this could be. The screen showed a video player with no thumb nail on it, so you pressed play and waited for the video to show.

 How badly you wish you didn’t do it.

The first thing you hear is a moan, your moan, it’s loud and it’s filthy, your eyes fill with tears as you realize what’s going on.

 It’s a video from last night, and not only does the video show everything that happened last night, but your face is also very visible, the quality doesn’t let it up to speculation.

 Namjoon recorded you having sex with him, and he made sure your face was visible on the entire video.

 You’re too horrified watching the video play to notice the presence of that man behind you, you only notice after him getting close enough to catch his shadow onto the screen.

 “Namjoon, what is this?” You could barely speak, air seemed to abandon your lungs after what you just watched, the most vulnerable and intimate moment in your life, captured on video like it meant nothing. You turn around to face him while Namjoon keeps a neutral expression despite your distress, the man you’ve come to know, and love was nowhere to be found, in his place was this mean and coldhearted man who doesn’t seem to realize how much he’s hurting you.

“What do you mean darling?” You don’t even realize you’re standing up and he’s in front of you now, his tone being so condescending that it makes you feel disgusted, he traps you into his arms and forced you to look at him in the eyes by harshly gripping your chin up, his mocking smirk breaking your heart when you realize that he doesn’t want to comfort you like he has done so many times before, right now, Namjoon is making fun of you “Don’t you like it? Because personally I loved it, it really captured how well you took me last night, how you were a good little slut just for me” A heart wrenching sob left your mouth and Namjoon tsk at you while shaking his head, his evil smirk doesn’t leave his face for a second “What’s the matter baby? You don’t like me calling you a slut? You didn’t seem to mind that nickname last night” He has the audacity to laugh at you and instinctively you begin to weakly try to break free from his hold, tears streaming down your face.

“How could you do this to me?! Fuck you!” Each time you try to get out of Namjoon’s tight hold and run as far as you could from him, his grip only became tighter, so tight that it started to hurt, you let out a pained whimper, but Namjoon didn’t seem to care at all, gripping your chin even harsher this time.

“And where do you think you’re going baby, huh?” You can’t stand his fucking tone anymore, you need to get out of here, now.

“You won’t get away with this, I’m going to tell everyone what you did!” You try to stay firm, but every time Namjoon laughs you seem to get smaller and smaller, his mocking tone making you feel dumb.

“Yeah baby? What exactly are you going to say?” He spins you so that you’re facing his laptop and keeps a tight grip on your waist with one hand as he presses play once more with his other hand, the lewd sounds from last night echoing his studio, making a new set of tears appear into your eyes, you closed your eyes while shaking your head, Namjoon grips you by the hair while forcing you to watch the awful video, you whimper as you are forced to relive what you thought was an intimate moment and  you’re horrified realizing it’s anything but that. “You look pretty willing to me, in fact, if we go back to it you can even hear you begging for me” Another sob leaves your lips and Namjoon kisses your cheek after hearing your distress “Aw, don’t cry sweetheart, it’s not like you think, this wasn’t meant to hurt you” He tries to wipe your tears off but you swat his hand before it comes close to your face “Why are you so mad at this? I thought you would like it” You're in a daze right now, and his words only make you feel more confused. How could he think that you will like this? He invaded your privacy and betrayed your trust by unknowingly filming you in the most intimate moment of your life, Namjoon seems to sense your confusion and lets out a small cooing noise.

“Oh baby, you really don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, don’t you? I had to make sure you didn’t chicken out on me, I can’t let you go that easy, not after waiting too long to have you” His words only confuse you even more and you’re left with more questions than with answers.

“How could you possibly met me before this?” Your voice was barely audible at this point, but you know he heard you just fine, your throat closing up even more when he laughs while not breaking eye contact, before all this mess, Namjoon’s presence was already intimidating, but right now is downright terrifying, you can feel your legs giving out when he comes closer to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, more tears rolling down your cheeks as he begins to speak again.

“Oh darling, you’ve always been so eager, so gullible” The confusion your feeling must be visible to him because he lets a small tsk whilst grabbing a small strand of your bangs to push it behind your ear, his playful tone doesn’t leave his voice.

“It was a mere casualty really, Hoseok asked me to come to the main Bangtan building after one of his rehearsals, but on my way to his practice room, I saw a group of trainees in the smallest dancing studio in the building, dancing to the same part of a song over and over again, most of them messing up every time, except for one” Your entire body freezes and you feel like you might collapse at any moment, this can’t be happening, this isn’t the way things should be going now “I knew from the moment I saw you were going to be a star, and when I started to find out more about you, let me just say I was delighted with what I learned” You need to run, you have to get out of here, but before you can even make a run for it, Namjoon holds you tightly into his arms before he says “I don’t think that’s a good idea baby, you don’t this video to end up in the wrong hands, do you?” Your eyes widen up in fear at the mere though and Namjoon has the audacity to laugh at this “My career will remain intact after this, it might even become good publicity for me, but yours? Oh darling, this will be your downfall, a trainee fucking her producer to assure her success, that’s just low” You violently shake your head at his words.

“That’s not true! That’s not what happened, and you know that!” You’re yelling but no matter how loud you yell, it doesn’t seem like he can hear you, he only brushes you off with an uninterested look.

“I know that darling, but other people don’t, I know you’re a hard working girl who’s fought to be in this position, but they won’t see it that way, if their looking at you like scum now just thinking that we might be dating, imagine how they’ll treat you when they found out you let me fuck you so easily” You can’t control the heartbreaking sob that comes out of your mouth, and Namjoon coos at your pathetic attempt to make him feel guilty, pushing your head into his chest as he embraces you in a hug “Oh but don’t cry baby, I won’t let that happen to you, your my little superstar aren’t you? As long as you stay with me, I’ll make all your dreams come true” His loving and caring tone doesn’t give you butterflies in your stomach anymore, it only makes you feel like you want to puke, and although his actions say otherwise, you’re left with the only option you have left: you believe him, what else can you do after all? No matter what you do, every choice will make you lose, but one will make you lose everything you’ve worked hard for, while the other will make you lose your dignity, and frankly, you don’t know which one is worst.

 Namjoon continues to hug you, his hold feels like poison now, who you once considered the man of your dreams has become your biggest nightmare in the blink of an eye and there’s nothing you can do to get away from him now, he kisses you harshly, your tears coming in the way but he seems to be great at ignoring them, and as he deepens out the kiss, there’s only one thought that bitterly crosses through your mind.

 You should’ve listened to your mother when you had the chance.

[sharonisthebettercarter]

hugh campbell is literally the tallest member of the boys in the show and it's one a my favorite details<3

they rarely show it off and tend to use camera angles and posture (hughie boi i see you constantly slouching--LOOK AT HIM~<3<3<3 just casually *unintentionally* making butcher appear is *actual size*--) to play up or downplay/switch up height differences, but i kinda love that hughie went from being the second shortest member (comics) of the boys to the literal tallest<3 (butcher was generally in the middle with homie just casually being a head taller than him--, frenchie and mm being the taller guys on the team, love sausage of course being the biggest guy when there~<3<3<3 he still is btw--)

love love LOVE him so fucking much<3<3<3 literally the *only* REAL bear in this damn series (HE STRAIGHT UP BEAR HUGS BILLY IN THE COMIC AHHHHHHHHHHH~<3<3<3!!! we better see moar of him i swears--). mm is a close one, but he's more of a good big papa wolf~<3 butcher's a scraggly dumpster kitten or fuckin' heifer--

i *also* love love LOVE the single inch height increment hughie and billy got goin' on with homie, it's just the cutest most fun thing~<3 it goes--

5'11" (homie<3)

6'0" (billy bean<3<3)

6'1" (not so wee hughie<3<3<3)

6'2" (LOVE SAUSAGE~<3<3<3<3!!)

i see you sandwiched right inbetween those bois there, 'ey billy~<3? ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

throw in mm between billy and homie, it's hard to find a solid height on that bitch<3 (and they *def* keep trying to downplay his height and bulk cause holy FUCK, THAT MAN--) but i'm gonna say he's probably around 5'11.5", closer to 6'0" maybe??

lol for the roughest layout i guess, they tend to bill urban a bit taller than he is (you can tell cause they'll bill quaid at the same numbers but he's definitely taller than urban, also i SWEAR everytime this man is in a photo that's not a solo glamor shot he's tryin' out some jank ass angles always always always leaning *in* to the camera to make himself look *bigger* leik honey you are so fuckin' cute-- and they *def* keep trying to make billy look *way* bigger than he actually is, BILLYYYYYYYYYYY--) but boi, i see you too<3<3<3

i guess maybe a little closer, it might go something like...

5'11" (homie)

5'11.75" (mm)

6'0.5" (billy bean)

6'1.5" (hughie)

in which there's .75 increments, and then a full 1 inch leap from billy to hughie. either way, they're def very close and not a single one is 'small' per se (except compared to love sausage--tho i do bet starr is one of those fuckers to downplay his height so other men get insecure LMAO--), but i just love the sequencing<3<3<3

what i *also* love~?

(bad posture homie lol) homie's reaction to hughie posturing at his full height was fucking amazing. IT WAS OH MY GAWD--i can't. he had his little surprised moment and then made a *pleased* "ooh~<3" and then smirked like THIS--

leik hughie... MAH BOI--i know he *tried* so fucking hard but leik. homelander is just so unthreatened by him that he's fucking *amused* and engaged with hughie *trying* to be brave. *he relaxed further*-- he just... he just doesn't give a shit. and it's horrible. but also *beautiful* because at this point, you can tell he's just so bored out of his mind that he even *welcomes* the challenge in some ways. he is LOVING that people feel so attacked by him without him doing much--LEIK.

there are a couple other unhinged and unsettling *positive* reactions he has to people similarly enough, (his descent into madness in real time--not gonna get into it now lest this post become *all* about homie--) but man oh man~<3

little bit less posture difference here, will say it's silly fandom obsesses over/exaggerates single inch height differences (particularly between homie and billy while ignoring/reversing hughie and billy, leik C'MON--let hughie be his height~<3! also we should be obsessing over the perfect~<3 *sequencing*, DUH--) but it's honestly pretty amazing how much of a nonfactor the height is in general.

for homie, it's pretty obvious he doesn't give a shit as he's particularly relaxed and unbothered by people being taller than him (especially hughie--literally amused by people posturing LEIK--by the gods his reaction to hughie challenging him--I CAN'T IT WAS FUCKING--GOOSEBUMPS~<3<3<3), but it just goes to show. motherfucker is just playing with his food--

BONUS~<3

lmao blurry ass pic of baby urban getting *dwarfed* by dwayne "i'm 5'11" and wear lifts" 'the rock' johnson. (also that mofo got so much bigger leik gotdamn i am actually curious how much more he'd *DWARF* urban cause ya look at him now and just. he ate a truck--ya look at the rock next to a guy leik SHAQ and HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT the differences are staggering leik one inch is nothin' baby--) SWEET BABY JEEZUZ--

bonus bonus~<3

another detail i *love*?

the shorter two (and frenchie~<3<3<3!) have the bigger/longer noses and... *likely* the biggest cocks--

;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))