#bats flying over me on open air? no problem you go guys

[otterandterrier]

what if I spent money on a falafel wrap to cope with the horrors of having bats in my wall

[msgexymunson]

Sammy's Mom

Description: Eddie Munson finds it difficult to get over his fantasies about you, his best friend's mom. He tries so hard to keep it in check. The only problem? Sammy's mom has got it going on.

A/N: kind of a little nod to the song "Stacey's Mom" (which is 20 years old now BTW, so if you remember it it's time to take aspirin for your back pain), I've written too much older Eddie in my time so trying to balance it out, as I've given him far too much rizz! And his friend is called Sammy as I've watched a lot of Supernatural recently. Please comment and reblog if you enjoy this my sweethearts.

Warnings: where do I start lmao, NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll slap you with a wet fish, age gap, Eddie's 21, reader is early 40s, MILF reader, reader referred to as 'Mrs F' a few times no first name given, perv Eddie, voyeurism, male masturbation, very slight foot fetish (nothing actually happens), oral both male and female receiving, p in v unprotected sex, slight anal play, cum eating.

10.5k words

Masterlist 

"UNCLE EDDIE!!" 

Johnny's little six year old voice rings out like a bell in the front yard. You look out the window and see him running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards a young man getting out of a beat up van. 

"Hey Squirt!" Crouching to his knees, he accepts your kids embrace, then stands with him, swinging him around in the air as Johnny shrieks uncontrollably, unbridled joy brimming from his chest. The next minute he's got Johnny on his shoulders, walking around the house to the back yard. 

You smile at their antics, warmed at the gesture. Eddie has always been good with your youngest son when he comes to visit Sammy, your oldest. It was nice, him having another man around to look up to, even if he really needs to remember to watch his language. 

Voices sound from the back yard; Eddie had found Sammy and as usual, they were loud and laughing. Not that you minded at all, any laughter those kids could get was music to your ears. 

You grab your sunglasses and perch them on top of your head, searching around for your gardening tools. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and you wanted to be near the kids at least. Grasping your pruners and gardening gloves in one hand and a cooler in the other, you make your way to the rear of the house. 

Pushing the back door open with a hip, you see Sammy is already in the pool. Johnny is still talking a mile a minute at Eddie, as he sits on the edge of a lawn chair. 

Well, he's certainly grown up. 

Eddie's shirtless, sitting there in his long black swimming trunks. There's a new tattoo on his ribs but you can't make it out from this distance. He's looking toned; his jaw is sharper, with shoulders broader than you remember. He's become a man. 

When the hell did that happen? 

Shaking your head out of your temporary revelry, you walk over to the pair of them. The snippets of conversation you overhear as you approach widen the smile on your face. 

"So, you think of any new monsters for me big guy?" 

Johnny beams at Eddie with pride. "Yeah! So right, it's like, a big bat thing right? With metal bits all over, and- and- then it's got these huuuuge teeth, and- and- when he opens its mouth the teeth fly out, right, and turn into bats!!" 

He starts excitedly flapping his arms around and screeching as Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.

"Bats huh? That's sick. Pretty metal, squirt. Have to add that to the campaign." 

Johnny beams at the praise, staring down at his hand, trying to work out his fingers, then flashes the devil horn hand at him triumphantly. 

"Johnny honey, do you want to play in the pool? Give Uncle Eddie a chance to breathe?" 

"Yeah! Can I do cannonballs? Can I can I can I?" 

His enthusiasm always brings a smile to your face. "Sure thing honey, just don't go in the deep end, 'K?" 

"Kay!" He flashes a thousand watt smile at you and runs off, calling to his brother. 

Your gaze returns to Eddie, who you are sure was just checking you out. His eyes flick to yours almost guiltily. 

"Brought some beers out for you both. Here." Passing him the cooler, your hands brush briefly, the slight touch running a shiver down your spine despite the heat. 

"Thanks Mrs F." 

Eddie licks his lips and you trace the movement with your eyes.

"Mom! What are you wearing?" 

Sammy has exited the pool, dripping water everywhere. You look down at your outfit. You were wearing a two piece, slightly skimpier than your usual swimwear, and a pair of jean hotpants. 

"Sammy love, it's hot. I'm in my backyard. What am I supposed to do? Dress like a nun?" 

Eddie snorts a laugh next to you. 

"But you're all… exposed mom." 

"Sammy, shut up. Your mom can wear what she wants." 

"Yeah? You're only saying that because you-"

But you're destined to never hear the end of that sentence as Eddie pushes him into the pool. Water splashes everywhere, and Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. The gesture has you staring yet again, looking at the skin on his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobs. A mad idea enters your head; what if you just darted your tongue out and licked over it? Decorated that delicate skin with kisses? Nipped at the sides of his throat with your teeth?

Eddie makes eye contact with you then, and you quickly look away. He was sure you were eyeing him up, almost certain of it. Hell, he's been staring at you for years, mapping your curves with his eyes, knowing he'll never get a chance to feel them under his hands, but the look you just gave him made his stomach twist.

Before your thoughts can go any further you tear yourself away and over to the rose bushes. You deadhead the rose bush as if your life depends on it, furiously snipping and cutting, as if you're trying to trim back the impure thoughts you're having. 

After a while, the bushes are looking a lot neater. Stepping back, you remove your gardening gloves and swipe the sweat beads on your brow with the back of your hand. 

"Mrs F, you wanna beer?" 

You turn to see Eddie laying on a sun lounger, waving a cold one. As you walk towards him he stands up to hand it to you. 

"That a new tattoo Eddie?" You ask, pointing to his abdomen. He looks taken aback by your question but responds nonetheless. 

"Yeah, you like it?" 

Your hand drifts towards him almost instinctively, only realising when his muscles tense under your soft touch. It's a scorpion, surrounded in a wreath of flames. Tracing it with your fingers, you circle it slowly. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest. A slow moan escapes Eddie's lips which pulls you out of wherever the hell you were heading. The heat must have gotten to your head. Pulling back your fingers, you respond.

"Yeah, I like it. Metal." 

Looking up around him through your lashes, your eyes meet his. He looks flushed, cheeks heating at your stare. 

"You OK Eddie?" 

"Y-yeah, fine. I'm gonna have a dip in the pool." 

He shuffles awkwardly off, nearly bent double. All his strange stance does is draw attention to the tent in his swimming trunks that has appeared. It's really rather large; to your amazement, you can't seem to take your eyes off it. Eddie dives into the pool, swimming over to your son. 

Did I just do that? 

You shake your head, banishing thoughts of Eddie's package, and head off to the kitchen to clean some dishes. 

As Eddie rushes into the pool, he's wishing the cool water would shrink the raging hard on he just got. 

Fuck, you look so good today. That skimpy bikini top barely covering the curves of your tits; them damn near spilling out of the top. Those tiny shorts, framing your hips and ass perfectly. Then you had to go and touch him. That had him nearly busting in his pants. He can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. A crazy thought he shouldn't be entertaining. 

He dips his head under the water trying to cool the blood that had rushed to his cheeks. 

You had to be at least 40. Sammy's Dad had been out of the picture for a while, he knew that much. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a little lonely; maybe that's why you had been flirting with him. Or it was entirely Eddie's imagination and he just needs to jerk off and get it out of his system. 

As he gets out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, he thinks he sees you looking at him through the kitchen window, but he can't be sure. 

"Dude, why have you got a boner?" Sammy points at him from the water, forcing Eddie to cup his erection, trying to hide it from prying eyes. 

"I can't help it!" He whisper shouts, cheeks flushing anew, "your mom's hot!" 

"Eddie! Don't say that, that's gross!" Sammy slings back, pulling a disgusted face.

"Hey it's not, she's a total fox, what can I do, it's like, biological, she's a babe!" 

Little did he know you can hear every word, pressing your lips together firmly to suppress a laugh as you dry up a cup in the kitchen. 

"She's like, really old, and she's my mom for God's sake!" 

"Hey, rude, she's not that old. You think she's into younger guys?" You can hear the smile in his voice, he's clearly just trying to wind Sammy up now, but your thighs clench together at the thought. The cup in your hands is dry as a bone right now. 

"Eddie shut the f-" 

"What's a boner?" The little voice is clear and loud, cutting through the argument. 

A loud laugh shoots from your chest uncontrollably. You try to mask it with your hand but there's nothing you can do, it's out there now. 

Eddie's head whips around to face the house, flicking water droplets in its wake. 

"Oh shit." It's low, but loud enough to hear. 

Making your way back outside, you call out to Johnny to save either of them answering the awkward question.

"Come on kid, you want a snack?" 

"Yeah mommy! Shit!" Eddie's mouth drops open. 

"What did I say about copying Eddie" you ask sternly. 

He parrots back in a sing-song voice, "don't copy Eddie, Eddie is dirty." 

"That's right. Come on, inside." He runs past you in the way only a child can, feet flat on the floor slapping on the concrete.

Eddie steps a little closer to you.

"I'm so sorry Mrs F it won't-" 

"Hey, it's OK," you reply, stepping to meet him. You drop your voice lower, hand up as if you're telling a secret. On autopilot, Eddie leans towards you to hear your whisper, close enough to smell your shampoo. 

"Sometimes mommy's dirty too." 

Turning on your heel, you walk back into the house without a glance, leaving Eddie with his jaw on the floor.

Where the hell did that come from?

You try to steady your breathing as you go inside. That was reckless of you, he's half your age. You admonish yourself, telling your brain that you need to stop flirting with the poor boy. 

Eddie's frozen on the spot. It's clear you overheard their little conversation, and then you come out with something like that? It's definitely not his imagination at this point. For a crazy moment he thinks he might actually have a shot at you. 

Stop it. She's Sammy's mother for Christ's sake. Pull yourself together Munson. 

"Imma take a quick shower if that's alright and get, er, changed. You wanna work on the campaign some more?" Eddie says it over his shoulder to Sammy, not daring to turn. He's never been so hard in all his life. 

"Sure, just stay out of my mom's room." 

Eddie laughs nervously, "who do you think I am?" As he walks to the house. 

"Eddie fuckin' Munson." Sammy mutters under his breath. 

As he stumbles into the house with his bundle of clothes over his crotch, he catches another glimpse of you, on your hands and knees searching in a cupboard. 

"Honey, I don't think we've got any animal crackers left." You say over your shoulder to a pouting Johnny. 

You're barely contained in your jean hot pants, the denim tight against your perfect ass. 

"Fuckin' hell" Eddie mutters under his breath, tearing his eyes away to make his way upstairs. 

He practically runs up the stairs, tripping slightly on the last step. Flinging his body into the bathroom, he shuts and locks the door. 

Five seconds later he's in the shower with his hand wrapped around his slippery cock, tugging on it as if it were his last day on earth. 

Fuck, why does she have to be so fine? 

He's whimpering and stifling breathy moans as he cums hard in less than five minutes. Shame snags its sneaky claws into his heart then, as he hangs his head under the shower head. He needs to get it together before the thought of you ruins him completely. 

********************

Knocking on your eldest son's door, he calls out for you to enter. Both him and Eddie are sitting on the bed, a pile of books and notes between them. You do your best to ignore the smoky weed smell as you address him.

"Sammy, I'm heading out, you still OK to take care of Johnny?" 

"Woah, Mrs F you look h-" Sammy elbows him in the ribs before he can finish the sentence, "-very nice." Eddie finishes lamely. 

A smile spreads over your face at his words. Your date tonight was nothing special, not really, but the need growing between your legs needed to be sorted out somehow. So, you'd dressed to impress; a red figure hugging dress, ending just at the knee, with matching slingbacks. Your hair was down, hanging past your shoulders in soft curls. 

"Mom, I'm going to Tiffany's, to stay over, remember?" Sammy responds, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at you.

"That was tonight?" Well, fuck. "Your grandma's coming to pick Johnny up at 9, can't you stay until then? 

"I can watch him." 

You both turn to look at Eddie. He looks just as surprised as you two at his words.

"I can watch him, no problem. I ain't got anywhere to be tonight."

Eddie doesn't know why he offered. Well, in part he did. He might get to see you again in that dress later. 

"Thanks Eddie, you're a lifesaver. I can pay-" 

"Oh no, don't worry about it." He flashes a grin which does something to your insides, melting them just a little.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Johnny's downstairs watching TV, he's had dinner, just need to wait for my mom to pick him up. You sure it's OK?" 

"Of course, it's no problem." 

"OK, well make yourself at home." You give him a winning smile of your own which makes his face flush red. 

"Oh, and Sammy?" 

"Yeah mom?" 

"Use protection." 

"Mom!" 

You laugh and shut the door, heading off to your date. 

********************

The date was a total bust, not that you'd expected anything less. Greg from accounting was nice, sure; kind of handsome, in a middle aged balding kind of way. A reliable sort of guy. Then, when the dinner was over and he kissed you, you knew there was no way it was going to go any further. So, you'd refused his invitation to go to a bar, made your excuses and got a cab home. 

Standing outside your house, you look at the time. 9:30. Rock and roll. You huff into the humid night air at how old you must seem right now, and open your front door. 

"Eddie!" 

Sprawled on the sofa, manspreading, sits Eddie. A beer rests on the coffee table, and the TV is blaring out some horror film. 

He scrambles to his feet looking like he's about to be told off. 

"Mrs F, sorry, erm, your mom's not here yet, she called saying she was running late-" 

As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. You open it, and see your mom standing there, pushing past you in a cloud of perfume. 

"Hey love, so sorry I'm late!" She looks at you, then Eddie. "Is this your date?" 

Blushing a furious red, you shake your head. 

"Oh, no this is Sammy's friend, he was watching Johnny for a bit." 

"Oh, the young man I spoke to on the phone. Shame, he's very handsome." She winks at you. 

"Mom!" 

Eddie looks like he's about to die from blood loss; his face is so drained it's ghostly white. 

"I-I'll go get squirt," he stumbles out awkwardly. 

"Mom, please behave." You whisper when he's left the room.

"I'm behaving! I thought you were on a date, what happened?" 

"He wasn't my type." 

"Well, you should find someone who is. How long has it been?" 

You run your hand through your hair, feeling a little more confrontational than usual due to the alcohol in your veins. 

"Mom, just drop it. I'm fine!" 

"OK, OK! That babysitter is a fine looking young man-" 

"Mom!" 

"Mommy!" You turn just in time for Johnny to grab your legs in a hard hug, squishy cheek pushing against your thigh. 

"We went on an adventure! I'm a Knight, I saved the lady! There was gobbins and stuff!" His little eyes shine, staring at Eddie in pure adoration. 

"Really? Well done! Sounds amazing love. Go on, go with nanna. I love you." 

"OK! Love you mom! Bye Uncle Eddie!" He runs over to him and grabs his legs fiercely. Eddie ruffles his hair in response.

"Night squirt. Or should I say Sir Johnny the Just?" 

"Yeah! Imma hero!" He beams and runs off to grasp your mother's hand, regaling her of his adventures. 

"I'll see you later mom," you say, passing her Johnny's overnight bag by the door. 

As the door shuts, the only sounds are coming from the gristly movie on the TV until Eddie switches it off. Silence. 

"Mrs F, I only opened the beer after I put him to bed, I swear-" 

"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. Thanks for staying longer, I appreciate it." 

"Oh, it's fine. My trailers empty anyway, and you have cable." He smiles sheepishly at you. 

"I told you, make yourself at home. Finish your beer." 

Shoes are kicked off to join the jumble at the front door, and you rub some life back into your aching heels. Eddie's staring at your feet and he can't figure out why. He's never had a thing for feet, but yours? Yours he'd happily have running over his body, in his mouth, on his cock. He's almost ashamed at how just the slightest bit of your flesh on show has him practically drooling. 

You're oblivious to Eddie's perverse thoughts however. Tonight was not what you wanted, and it makes you huff aloud at the thought. 

"You alright Mrs F?" Eddie asks, concern in his voice as he sits back down on the couch, trying his hardest not to stare at your cleavage. 

"Yeah I'm-" why are you lying? "no, actually I'm not. Not the night I was expecting." When you flash a weak smile at Eddie, it's not returned. He looks worried almost. 

"Wanna talk about it?" 

It's sweet of him to ask, and you're about to brush it off but he just looks so invested in your welfare that it takes you aback briefly. 

"Sure. Hang on a minute." You pad barefoot to the kitchen and grab a beer, returning to the living room to sit on the couch beside him. 

Eddie is trying to tell himself he's just being nice. It's not just an excuse to stay. It's difficult to believe his own thoughts however when your dress is riding up your thigh like that.

The very air between you both seems thick and laced with unanswered questions, tension real and palpable. 

"So, Sir Johnny the Just?" You ask, to try and clear the closing space. 

"Yeah," Eddie grins, face lighting up at the mention of your boy, "I gave him the name. Made a little one shot for him, you know, fought some goblins, saved a damsel in distress. He's got a knack for D&D." 

Your eyes glisten at that.

"Thanks, he really looks up to you. It's nice, him having some guys around." 

"Can I ask, what happened to… Mr F?" He knows he's crossing a line here, but he's so curious, and Sammy never talks about it. 

"He left me. I was pregnant with Johnny, and he met some blonde twig, had an affair." 

"Oh, I'm so fuckin' sorry." 

You shrug. It's trauma, yes, but it's passed. A wound that has long since closed over the years, scarring but healing. You sip your beer and ask a line crossing question of your own.

"So, no girlfriend then? Since you're free on a Saturday night?" 

You're not sure where that came from, but it's been asked now. A bubble of nerves pops when you ask it, showering you in drops of second guesses. 

"N-no, well I mean, yeah I've had like, girlfriends in the past but no, I'm single. As a pringle." 

What was that about? Smooth Munson. 

You just laugh as he visibly cringes at his own words. 

"Pringles aren't single, they fit together. They come in a tube." You add, mock helpfully. 

You both chuckle then, diffusing some of the awkwardness between you. He knocks your knee with his. You reciprocate, and look up into those soulful puppy dog eyes of his. 

Eddie's arm lays on the back of the couch behind you, and he's painfully aware of that fact. He wants to drop it to your shoulder, to run circles on your exposed skin and give you that smile, the smile he's given to a dozen girls. But you aren't a girl. You're a woman. The thought is making him more nervous than a virgin on prom night. 

Coughing the thought away, he asks you about tonight. 

"So, what happened on your date? I thought you'd be out later." 

"So did I." You slug some more beer back to calm yourself, and continue, "he was a nice guy. Opened doors, paid for dinner. Then he kissed me." 

Eddie attempted to ignore the burning jealousy in his gut. 

"Oh yeah? Sounds awful.' 

Laughing, you reach and stroke his side for a minute. Your hand lingers, feeling down to his hip. Eddie's heart is pounding in his throat. To his amazement, you leave it there, absentmindedly running fingers over his t-shirt. 

'Yeah, torture," you quip, "it was the kiss." 

Suddenly, you're moving your hand, much to Eddie's dismay, and turning to face him on the couch. He does the same, noticing that his arm is now so close to your head he can feel a slight tickle from your hair. 

"Can I be honest with you?" 

"Sure," Eddie tries to say coolly, to act like his entire insides aren't on fire because of the eye contact you're giving him. 

"It's, er, been a while. A very long while." Your eyes dip down, unsure why the hell you're telling Eddie this, but something about him is making you want to be open when usually you're a closed book. 

Eddie swallows thickly. He knows exactly what you're getting at. On instinct his thumb is rubbing the back of your head, over the soft curls. You don't seem to mind, better yet, your shoulders drop some tension, letting go just a little. 

Still looking down, you say "I can usually tell what someone's going to be like, in bed, from a kiss. Never been wrong yet," you laugh a little, "and he felt, well, dull, and kinda selfish." 

Grabbing your beer for something to distract you from the ache in your core, you drink some more, nearly finishing it. 

As you place it back down on the coffee table, you glance at Eddie's lap. He's fumbling with his rings, spinning one with his thumb as he shifts in his seat. There's an unmissable bulge in the front of his jeans; they're so tight you can see the outline of it. Of him. 

Glancing up at his face when you feel brave enough, it's beetroot red, but his eyes look dark, hungry almost. 

"Well, th-that's a cool superpower to have," he laughs out nervously. 

"I suppose it is" You smile. 

Eddie's trying so hard to control himself. The devil on his shoulder is pulling at his hair and yelling in his ear to make a move. 

This isn't right though, it's Sammy's mom for fucks sake. 

That's when you put your hand on his knee, touching that bare patch of skin where his jeans are frayed. Your touch is delicate, almost hesitant, and it destroys any resolve Eddie had. His hand is shaking slightly as he puts his fingers over yours. 

The touch is warming and electric, fanning the flames of the blazing fire in your stomach. As your eyes meet, Eddie's confidence grows. He can see that you want this, but someone needs to make the first move, and he would kick himself if he missed out because he didn't have the balls to make it.

"You know sweetheart," he begins, as you take a sharp breath at the nickname, he's never called you anything other than Mrs F before that, "you can't just say you have a superpower like that and not show me." 

There's nerves in his voice, but also a cheeky smile playing on his lips. To his amazement you blush, mouth curving into a smile of your own. 

"Listen, Eddie, you're a very sweet boy-" 

"-man," He interjects, "I'm 21." 

Chuckling, you reply, "OK, a very sweet young man, but I don't think that's a good idea." 

It's true, you don't. It's a very bad idea, but it's one you can't get out of your head, your eyes drawn to the curve of his jaw, his stubble, those plush lips of his. Wetting your lips impulsively, you nibble at the bottom one which sends Eddie's head into a dizzying whirlwind. 

"I just wanna know if I'm good in the sack, think it's only fair if you can tell me, it's just a kiss." 

Luck being pushed as far as it can go and then a little further, he daringly places a hand on your cheek. 

He is right, it's only a kiss. 

You say it in your head as if you're trying to convince yourself of the lie. By the time you realise how weak of an argument it is, you're already leaning forward, eyes unmistakably drawn to his lips. 

Eddie leans in, breath fanning your face. 

"Don't you want to… satisfy your curiosity?" 

It's bold, he knows, but you're the one who leans in further.

Eddie doesn't think twice, not when your eyes are hooded like that and your lips are forming a sultry pout. He presses his lips to yours softly at first, feeling the plush of them melt against his, his hand winding into your hair. 

You don't stop him, or pull back. His lips on yours are disarming, taking away your bite. The kiss is gentle, and you dissolve into it, moving your lips against his with a passion you can't remember ever feeling. 

Eddie's trying really hard not to just stick his tongue down your throat and feel you up, but he needs to prove something. He might not ever get a chance ever again, so he takes it slow. Opening his mouth, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging. Not only do you let him, you return his tongue with a lick of your own, running it over his lip in turn. Tongues stroke into each other's mouths sensually; you feel as if you have something to prove. Like he's the one who will be judging you and not the other way around.

He tastes intoxicating; you can't put your finger on why, it's beer, and cigarettes, and something else that's drawing you in. It's just pure Eddie. His smell too, leather, smoke and Old Spice;  it's filling you up from the inside out, making your head spin. 

Eddie's obsessed. Your touch, your scent, your taste. He could kiss you forever; he could kiss you until he dies, suffocated by your mouth, your passion. This feels like some sort of fever dream and he never wants to wake up.

Your fingers are touching cotton fabric before you even understand that you've got a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in further. He responds by dropping his hand to your neck, thumb rubbing intoxicating patterns on your pulse point. 

When you're feeling on the brink of being entirely consumed by his kiss, he's the one to pull away. It's a little sneaky, he knows that, but he wants the upper hand and thinks he won't get it ever again. Eddie can't believe his luck when he sees your eyes still closed, lips chasing his touch, with a ball of his shirt in your hands. 

As your eyes flutter open, you look up at him. A self satisfied smirk is smeared across his face and you can't help but think he's won this round of whatever the hell you're playing. Playing with fire it feels like. 

A moment too late and you remember your hand bunched into his clothes. You unhand him and slap his knee, fingers unwilling to pull away. 

"So, what's the verdict sweetheart?" Eddie asks. His fingers are still massaging at your neck, rubbing back and forth, sending tingles down your spine. 

"What?" You ask, mind well and truly blank. 

"Guessing that's good." He laughs, taking his hand away to take a sip of his beer. "Remember your superpower, Wonder Woman?" 

"Oh, yeah. It was… good." You shrug, picking up the last of your beer and downing it. 

"Good? Good?! Come on, you gotta give me more than that!" He huffs dramatically, slamming his beer bottle on the table. 

Laughing aloud, you turn and face him again. He really is beautiful. His hair framing his face, that triumphant smile on his lips, laughter lines creasing in his day old stubble. You can almost believe he's older than he is, but knowing what you know about his family, he's been through a lot. 

"OK, it was the best kiss I've had in a while. A very long time." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet for a moment; a loaded kind of quiet. It hangs heavily in the air like a thunderstorm. 

"Well, how about you?" You ask. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You know what I mean!" You laugh, nudging him with your foot.

"It was… good." He says, mimicking your words. Then he takes in your face, drinking in your beauty with his eyes, until he can't hold back anymore, "alright, it was mind blowing, you're really fuckin' hot." 

"Yeah, for my age" You scoff at his response, disbelieving him even after that kiss. You hear it alot, ever since you passed 35. 'You look good for your age', the backhanded compliment that feels like a knife in the chest. 

"That's bullshit!" Eddie responds loudly, shaking you out of your head and into the here and now, "you're fucking hot, period. Nothing to do with age sweetheart." 

If his words are lies, the bulge in his pants sure isn't. You feel drunk, and not from the alcohol. Eddie's kiss had you feeling reckless. Naughty. Young. 

"I overheard your little conversation earlier," you admit, scooching closer to him on the couch. Faces an inch apart, Eddie's torn between pouncing or running. So are you. 

"Yeah, you weren't supposed to hear that. Kinda glad you did." 

That makes you braver. All thought has gone, and the pounding need in between your legs has you losing all inhibitions as you lean towards his neck.

"Do you want me, Eddie?" You purr into his ear, nipping at the lobe with your teeth. 

"Uh, like, yeah. Yes, o-of course" He replies shakily, hand restless against your thigh. 

"You're trembling Eddie" it's your turn to smirk, lips dragging against his throat, "you've been with a woman before, right?" You know he has, but you can't help teasing him a little. 

Yes, a dozen, but none like you. 

"Y-yeah, I'm not a virgin, if th-that's what you're asking." 

Get it the fuck together Munson. 

"Then why are you nervous?" 

"Girls don't make me nervous. You make me nervous" He laughs, with absolute honesty in his words. 

With a flick of your eyes to his lips, you cradle his jaw. Eddie can't wait a second longer, he's about to burst. He takes a breath, grabs you by the hip, and presses a hard kiss to your mouth. 

The first one was a test, an examination. This one is pure desire, neediness etched into the marrow of his bones. Yet you're the one to deepen the kiss, mouth opening up to him, your tongue running over his with fervour. Lust is rolling off the pair of you, filling the room with its sultry fog.

Impatience gets the best of him, he needs you closer, so he yanks you into his lap, hands grabbing hard to your hips. Gasping into his mouth at the sudden dominance, you let him lead. His kiss is burning you, hot and heavy. Your hips start grinding into his lap of their own accord, each movement inching your dress higher and higher. 

Eddie rolls it up and over your ass so your red lace panties are on display, dress bunching at your waist. His hands are all over you, feeling at your thighs, your hips, your ass, kneading at the dough of your flesh desperately. 

Each grope, each bruising squeeze of his fingertips has you panting in his mouth, your hands winding into his loose locks, tugging. 

The kisses are becoming sloppier, allegedly immovable lipstick starting to smear on Eddie's face. You're biting at his bottom lip, grinding hard against his clothed dick; Eddie feels like he's died and gone to heaven. 

He tugs at your dress urgently, coaxing you to wriggle it up your frame and fling it away. 

The sight of you in your matching bra and panty set is enough to stop him in his tracks. It's gorgeous satin and lace, one of many you have. Even Eddie can see this is expensive. He runs his hands up and down your sides, drinking it in as if it were his last day on Earth. 

You allow him the few moments he takes to worship you with his eyes. If anything you're enjoying it as much as he is, his hungry stare fuelling your ego. 

"See something you like?" You tease, fingernails dragging across his neck. 

"Fuck yeah" comes his breathy response, pulling down a cup of your bra roughly, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking. 

Throwing your head back, you let out an unadulterated moan. You grab the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. He gets the message, wrestling it off of his toned frame and throwing it away as if he's exasperated with clothes. Relishing in this new uncharted territory, your hands run all over his skin, tracing tattoos and freckles, fingernails leaving evidence of your desire. 

"Sorry, I just need to-" instead of telling you, he shows you, standing up with you grasped firmly at the hips. You think for a moment that he's going to take you upstairs, but he's pressing you down gently to the floor, lips and tongue tasting your neck, playfully licking over your collarbone. 

Eddie needs to know what your pussy tastes like; he's been dreaming of this for as long as he can remember. The thought of you unravelling because of him has him twitching in his pants. 

So, he makes his way down your torso, mapping your skin with his tongue. You're just so reactive; each time he laps and sucks at you a breathy gasp comes spilling from perfect painted lips.  

It's driving you crazy, his mouth is setting each patch of skin aflame, burning with passion. You're surprised by his movements as his mouth trails lower and lower. It looks like he's taking every enjoyment in tasting you, and the way he wiggles to get between your spread legs makes you realise he's going to go down on you. That is what's so surprising; you've never had a man who did that without some serious coaxing, let alone one who seemed to really want to. 

Now you're not self conscious by any means; you've grown to be very comfortable with your body, the feeling just comes with age. You can't help but be a little worried however, when Eddie reaches the stretch marks on your tummy. Little lightning strikes, lighter than the rest of your skin. You're not embarrassed, those little marks on your stomach and thighs are signs of your two beautiful boys. What's troubling you is the fact that Eddie can't have possibly seen any before, at least like this. What if they disgust him? 

It seems you needn't have worried. Eddie's in awe, running his fingers over the soft skin of the scars. He plants a kiss over the top and watches your muscles tense up. 

It's not that he likes them, or dislikes them for that matter; it's the fact that they are real. You're real, and in front of him in your underwear, and they ground him to the fact that this is actually happening. 

Reaching the hem of your panties he's torn between taking them off or not; you're just so damn pretty in them. He settles for running his tongue along the seam making you moan. You, Sammy's mom, moaning underneath him. He'd pinch himself if he didn't think it would spoil the mood. 

"You can take them off if you want baby." 

"Can I just, move them to the side? You're so fuckin' pretty like this." 

"Sure" you nod at him. He does so and nearly dies at the sight. Seems everything about you is thought of, down to your manicured nails, waxed legs, and bikini wax. The little patch of hair left is driving Eddie fucking crazy. 

He wastes no more time and runs his tongue through your folds, lapping at you like a man possessed. You taste exquisite, a flavour Eddie will remember for the rest of his life. It has him groaning into you, the vibration tingling over your clit making you writhe under him.

He's trying to map what you like, what makes you whimper, what makes you buck into his mouth. You can tell he's trying, really trying, but you know what you need. 

"Eddie, oh fuck, use, use the flat of your tongue," as he changes his tongue shape and rhythm, you wind your fingers into his hair and tug him right where you need him, "Oh God fuck, right there!" 

Yes fucking ma'am. 

Eddie's birthdays, Christmases, Easters, fuck it, all the holidays, have come at once. You are using him for your pleasure, riding his face. His dick is so swollen it's almost painful; he's rutting into the carpet like a teenager, the seam on his jeans not nearly providing enough friction.  

The pleasure is coursing through your veins, throbbing inside your stomach and thighs as you take what you need, fingers pulling hard at his hair. 

The moan that rips from your chest when Eddie pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt is pornographic, long and loud. He curls them upward, stroking incessantly at your g spot and spots appear in your vision. The last coherent thought you have is, fuck he really knows what he's doing. 

"Eddie!" 

You come with a strangled scream of his name, then it's all just white light and searing ecstasy as you ride out your orgasm. Your pulse and the feel of Eddie's hair taut in your fingers are the only things keeping you on planet Earth. 

Eddie just about holds it together, fingers working you through your release. You screamed his name. He almost came in his pants right then and there. The sound of you screaming his name is now a new core memory. He's sure he will replay it in his head many times with his fist on his cock.

Your back finally touching the carpet again, you tear Eddie's head away from your pussy and coax him none too gently upward. He hovers over your mouth, a little worried about kissing you when his face is covered with your release, but that worry turns into shock when you push his head forcefully towards yours and slip your tongue in his mouth. 

You can't help but moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. The moan sounds low in your throat, buzzing into Eddie's mouth so low he feels it in his dick. Seems you weren't lying when you said mommy is dirty too. 

Suddenly Eddie's world turns sideways as you flip him onto his back, pushing his thighs apart with your knee. His scent, the feel of his skin, it's intoxicating. Before you realise what you're doing, you're sucking a love bite into the side of his neck, hard. 

Mine. 

Trailing lips and manicured nails down his torso, you pause at the fly of his jeans. You look up at him through your lashes. 

"This OK Eddie?" 

"Erm… oh God yes?" 

You giggle girlishly, flicking the button of his jeans undone and unzipping the fly gently. Relishing in the moment, you guide him to lift his hips and pull his jeans and boxers down slowly, unwrapping him like a gift.  

And what a fucking gift. 

As you pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his hardened cock springs out, coming to rest on his abdomen. It's big, the biggest you think you've seen in real life. Blushing a pretty pink at the tip, a pearl of pre cum sits on the slit at the top. 

Eddie takes your stillness as judgement, he can't help but fill in the silence. 

"Sorry, it's er, it's not like, impressive or anything- oh fuck" 

His apologies are interrupted when you take the tip in your mouth, sucking up the pre cum that glistens there. You roll the tip around your mouth, amazed at the fact he tastes so good. 

Breaking away with a pop, you reply, looking at him as you fist his length slowly with one hand. 

"Eddie, you're really, really big." 

"Really?" He doesn't look convinced, leaning up on his elbows to look at you. 

"Really. You're huge Eddie." 

"Yeah?" An edge of disbelief coats his voice, but he's smiling. 

"Biggest I've seen." 

Eddie's smile is damn near splitting his face in half. 

"So, could I get that in writing or- Jesus fuckin' Christ!" 

You take him in your mouth again, fitting as much as you can, fisting the rest in your hand. The groans and whimpers coming from Eddie's mouth are downright obscene. The wetter you get him, the louder he gets, so you dribble purposely all over your fist, letting it drip down to his balls. 

Eddie's eyes keep trying to roll back but he won't let them, he refuses. He needs to see this, to see you. The slick sounds your hand and mouth are creating are making him fizz from the inside out, each movement is making him want to blow his load in that perfect practised mouth. 

Sammy's mom is sucking my fucking dick dry. 

He's trying to get his head around this impossible situation but it's so outlandish he wants to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. He settles on moaning, hand resting on the back of your head, stroking encouraging circles. 

"Fuck, you're- you're too good at this, holy shit!" 

Relinquishing his length with a sodden wet noise, you fist his length, running your thumb over his tip and lapping at his balls. Taking one in your mouth and playfully sucking, he nearly busts right then and there. 

"OK sweetheart, I-I can't hold back if you, fuck, if you d-do that-" 

You finally unhand him with a cheeky smile and straddle him, your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his throbbing length. 

"You OK there champ?" You ask, a mischievous grin plastered all over your face as you drag your perfect nails down his chest. 

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I-" Eddie grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "Please give me a minute, please." 

Eddie's eyes are big, wide and wet. Almost like a lost puppy. You're torn between wanting to hold him close, look after him, and fucking him hard until he cries. 

Suddenly he looks concerned, eyes growing impossibly wider. 

"I don't have, a-a condom or anything-" 

You chuckle lowly, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing softly at his knuckles. 

"Eddie, baby, I had my tubes tied years ago. It's OK. If it's OK with you?" 

Holy shit. Sammy's mom wants to ride me raw. Jesus Christ. 

His head is spinning; he realises he's nodding so hard he may have whiplash. You smirk at his response, the rigorous nodding and wide eyed look is just doing something to your insides; twisting them up, making you hungry. 

Maybe that's why you do what you do. You wink at him, and swing your leg over, pushing your underwear to the side once again. Though this time, you're straddling him backwards, round ass on display as you tease the head of his cock with your soaking wet lips. 

As you sink down onto him, you hear the guttural moan that strikes out from his soul almost, travelling swiftly to your core. He's big, you weren't lying. You feel each vein, each ridge, as you seat yourself fully onto his cock. 

This boy has no idea what he's packing. 

Jesus Christ, the spots this impressive length can reach are unreal. You bounce on him slowly, revelling in the stretch. He's throbbing underneath you, inside you. The sensation makes you moan wantonly, feeling sexier than you've felt in years. 

Eddie's mesmerised by your ass, watching it bounce on his dick, drooling at the shake of it when it plunges back down. His eyes are drawn to your tight hole, half hidden by the pricey underwear that still adorns you. Just a tiny slip of lace hugged in your ass cheeks. 

He's already pushed his luck; he's well aware of that fact. The arousal pumping through him has him throwing caution to the wind however, so he sucks his thumb, getting it nice and wet, and pushes it against your asshole.

It surprises you, sure, but you're moaning louder at his bold move. 

Eddie's reeling, dizzy at your reaction. He was expecting at least for you to just slap his hand away, but if anything you speed up and make even more noise. Fuck, if you could get more perfect, you just did. He pushes his digit in, feeling you clench around it, riding him for all he's worth. 

"Oh fuck, Eddie!" 

It's too much for you to take, being filled in both holes, riding him hard and fast until your vision is blurring and spots are in your eyes. Your release startles you, a fuzzy feeling filling you up from the inside out and exploding from your cunt in a gush. 

Reality seeps in as you come down from your high; pain in your knees searing up your leg. 

"Sweetheart, I need to get on top, please." 

It's a relief you're not prepared to admit to as you climb off, legs twitching and knackered. 

Near collapsing on the floor, Eddie's on you, falling in his excitement. He's forgotten his jeans are still woven around his ankles. He kicks them off and slides between your spread legs. 

"Can I take your panties off now sweetheart?" 

What he's not saying, is he really doesn't want to miss what might be the only time he gets to see you naked. You oblige, lifting up your hips so he can wrestle the sodden garment off you. 

As if you can hear his prayers, you unhook your bra too, flinging it toward the couch. Eddie's nearly having a heart attack; it's hammering hard in his chest, the only thing stopping it from bursting out is his ribcage. The sight of you, nude, beneath him? It's unravelling him in a way he didn't know was possible. 

So he loses it for a moment, burying his head in the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Your nipples stand to attention at his ministrations, yet your core hums at the lack of attention. 

"Eddie, please, I need you inside me." 

Fuck this is unreal. She's so beautiful and she's begging for me. Feels like a dream. 

But it's not a dream. He's pressing his quivering length against you again and your pussy is swallowing him up as if it's hungry for him. 

You let him in, his hard member spearing you, humping into you hard and rough. You groan against him, fingernails finding leverage in his broad shoulders. 

His arms hook under your sweaty knees, pulling them hard against your torso, angling himself to fuck into you mercilessly. 

"Fuck, you feel- so fuckin' good" He stammers out, slamming his hips into you. 

You're beyond words, screaming his name like it's the only word you know. 

"You gonna come again? Please, fuck, please come, I need it, I need it baby please" His babbling words fire out at you, driving you ceaselessly to another orgasm. 

Fingers wind between your heaving forms, running urgent circles over your clit. They slip and slide against your sodden nub, desperately seeking to get you to that precipice. You moan, and moan, and finally clench and scream his name, voice hard, burning in your throat.

Eddie can't take it, not the way your cunt is grabbing onto him so tightly, constricting his dick as if it's afraid he'll leave. He stutters his hips and grunts his own release deep into you. 

For a minute he doesn't stop, He refuses to stop. He doesn't want it to be over. So, he fucks his cum into you until it's impossible to continue and finally comes up for air. 

You envelop his lips into a suffocating kiss, swollen lips and tongue and spit. Messy and passionate, he returns it, glad that you still want to kiss him at the end of all things. 

Though, you don't want it to be over. His touch, his feel, his taste, you could soak it up, roll around in it forever, wrap yourself in his arms and stay. A mad thought. A maddening thought. 

Eddie slips from inside you making you frown at the loss. His smile is soaked in mischief however, as he starts to kiss down your front again, burying his head in the deep valley of your breasts, tongue lathering over the supple flesh and moving downwards. 

He's never, ever, felt the need to taste himself on another. As a matter of fact, if you had told him yesterday he would feel the desperate urge to press his tongue into a pussy that is dripping with his own cum he would have laughed in your face. But, this is your pussy. Your tight wet cunt, and he needs to taste it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. For a second he stares up at you with big soulful eyes. 

"I wanna taste what we made." 

His words are shooting into the pulse spilling from your core.

"Really?" Your words drip in perplexity, amazed that any man would want that, but the thought lingers, making you realise that you want that. 

No further time wasted, he dives into your dripping core, tongue dragging through your aching lips. For a moment it's too much, until it drops into pleasure; pleasure that you sink into, melting under his touch. 

Eddie laps furiously at your clit, both of your releases dripping from his chin. He sinks thick fingers inside, squelching into your soft heat. 

Wordlessly, he takes his fingers out and reaches them up to your face. His eyes are trained on you, flat of his tongue rubbing against your swollen nub. 

Hesitantly, you take in the sight of his sticky fingers, before you take them into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks. The taste is indescribable; it's salty, sweet, tangy, each separate flavour hitting your tongue differently, fuelling your desires.

You're making Eddie's dreams come true with that gesture. Your trust in him, your filthiness, the way your tongue works against his fingers, it's all shooting to his heart, and his cock. He's impossibly hard again, groaning into your cunt. 

Another release is speeding toward you. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it, free falling into ecstasy. You grip around his wrist, fingers digging bruises into the tendons as your orgasm rushes out of you in a string of curse words. 

He moves back up your body and you envelop his slicked lips in a firm kiss. To your surprise, you can feel his hard member digging into your thigh. It's been a long time since you've been with anyone who couldn't go more than one round before rolling over and falling asleep. The joys of youth. 

"You OK Eddie?" You ask between breath-taking kisses. 

"OK? I'm fucking amazing sweetheart. Feel like I just won the lottery or something" He huffs a laugh, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. 

"You, erm-" you begin, feeling almost embarrassed, "-you wanna go again?" 

"Oh hell yeah." 

His tip is already begging at your entrance but you place a firm hand to his chest, stilling his movements. 

"Eddie, upstairs? My back is killing me." You admit it, the hard floor giving you aches and pains. 

"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Come on" practically leaping up, he holds out his hand to you and you grasp it in yours. You giggle at his eagerness, the sight of him stark naked leaping up the stairs three at a time stoking your amusement. 

This might be inappropriate, it might be a bit wrong, but damn, this is fun. Having someone desire you so much, who wants to fuck you over and over? Morals can kick in tomorrow. Tonight, you have a gorgeous young man aching to give you more. 

********************

"Hey, you still here?" 

You look up, distracted from your musings of last night. God, that boy had some stamina. 

"Huh?" 

"Wow, that date must have been good! You going to spill? Come on, tell me about it!" 

Blushing, you sip the glass of wine in front of you. Karen Wheeler had popped round unannounced with a bottle and you were sitting around your kitchen table whilst she grilled you about why you were smiling so much. She would lose her shit if she knew who you were smiling about. 

"I mean, I can't really talk about it." You mumble around your glass. 

"Oh God, why? Oh, he's married, I bet he's married! You naughty thing!" Her words are admonishing, but her cheeks are glowing. She's loving every minute of this. 

Why not? At least that would explain it away. 

"Yeah, he's married." 

"Oh my you're terrible!" She cackles, laughing. "How was he?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about Karen." 

"Oh, come on you're practically glowing! I know that look" She says, nodding sagely. 

"OK, look" You say, taking a gulp of wine for composure and a deep breath before it rushes out of your mouth in a torrid whisper. 

"It was fucking incredible, like toe curling incredible, you know? And he just kept going, I mean, honestly? The best I've ever had." 

Karen coughs and nods pointedly behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him. 

Eddie. Fuck. 

He's standing there nonchalantly, leaning on the doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin. 

"Sorry for the interruption, just grabbing a couple beers." 

He bounces into the kitchen and fetches two beers from the fridge. 

"Me and Sammy are just working on the campaign. I'll er, leave you ladies to it." 

He practically skips out the room, leaving you red faced. 

"That Eddie?" You nod, face red as a beetroot. 

"He's grown up, hasn't he?" 

You steer away from this line of questioning, mortified that he heard what you said. 

"Only on the outside. You want a top up?" She agrees with a grin as you fill her glass up and she regales you with all the poolside gossip. When the bottle is done, she leaves with a wink, saying she'll keep your secret. If she only knew what that was. 

Eddie's on cloud nine right now, bouncing up the stairs three at a time. 

The best she's ever had. The best she's ever had. 

It's in his mind, playing in a loop. His mantra, a quote that will live deep in his chest from now until forever after. 

The best she's ever had. 

He flings the door open and flounces into Sammy's room, banging a beer down on the bedside table. 

"A beverage for you, good fellow!" 

"Aha! Fine work m'lord!" Sammy twists the cap off, tossing it in the bin. Eddie does the same, twisting to face the waste paper basket, and takes a long swig. 

"Eddie you dirty fuck." 

He freezes, ice pouring down his spine. Spinning on his heel, he turns to face Sammy.

"What are you on about?" He asks, a fake smile masking the fear that had bottomed out in his stomach. 

"I see the panties you've got in your back pocket, red ones. They're poking out! Dude, did you get lucky last night?" Sammy smirks, swigging his own beer.

He couldn't help himself. He swiped them when he was leaving. They were still wet, soaked with a mixture of his spit and your release. He'd sniffed them and got himself off twice this morning. 

Chill out. Sammy's grinning. He's got no clue who they belong to. 

Eddie relaxes and grins smugly back, laying on the floor, his back against the bed. 

"Oh, you have no idea." 

********************

Humming to yourself, you sort through the dirty clothes in the laundry room, separating darks and lights. 

Your thoughts drift yet again to that messy haired rocker. His large hands, his tight torso, his dick. Fuck, his dick. 

Shaking your head, you do what you can to rid your brain of your salacious thoughts, loading the washer a little more forcefully than you necessarily needed to. 

You hear the unmistakable click of the door behind you. Not bothering to turn, you huff as you shut the washer lid with a bang. 

"I swear to God Sammy if you need a shirt for tonight I've already-" 

"Hey sweetheart." 

Flipping to face the door, there he is. Arms folded across his slender chest, smug smirk spread stickly across his features, he stares at you. 

"Eddie, you need to leave." 

Your tone is stern, but your bottom lip disappears into your mouth, being nibbled at by your teeth. 

"You sure? Thought you might wanna see me. You know, since I'm the best you ever had." 

"Eddie shut the fuck up!" You hiss between your teeth, eyes flashing to the door. 

"Sweetheart, Sammy's fallen asleep. He had a long night. You know what that's like." 

"Eddie, that was a one time thing. God, it's not like this can go anywhere, so why are you here?" 

Tapping your foot impatiently, he closes the gap between you, cornering you between the wall and the washing machine. 

You want to be angry; to push him away and leave, but the pounding of your pulse between your legs betrays you. 

As if he knows, he slots his leg between yours, denim clad thigh hovering near your throbbing heat, pushing your sundress up in the process. 

"I know. Fuck, I'm well aware. I just wanna- help you out. Like, an arrangement" He smiles, knuckles reaching up to stroke your cheek. 

"Eddie-" 

Before you manage to form words, he's on his knees in front of you, large palms running over your bare thighs. 

"Please." 

That's all he says, wet doe eyes wide, gleaming up at you as if you were some sort of goddess and he was kneeling at your altar. 

Eddie's begging to the old Gods and the new; fuck it, to anyone who might be listening. He wants you, with everything he has. Each fibre is burning for you. He thought it might go away after last night, but it was simply a taste. A drop of water doesn't quench an undying thirst. 

This little sundress is doing nothing to sate his hunger for you. The flimsy material clings in all the right places, forcing his eyes to trail over your curves like a man starved. 

Without a thought in your head, you wind your fingers into Eddie's hair, relishing the feel of his hot breath on your naked thighs. Guiding his head forward, you shudder as his lips trace across your flesh. 

Eddie lifts your dress up, reaching desperately to pull your panties off and away before you change your mind. Slick sticking to them, he pulls them down, watching as they gradually peel from your core. 

He sits on his heels, eyes flitting from your eyes to your cunt. 

"Sweetheart, please. I just wanna- I wanna help you with your needs. Fuck, with my needs." 

Nodding emphatically, you tug at his hair, drawing him in. 

Eddie counts his blessings and dives straight at your pussy, lapping between the folds just like you taught him. 

"Oh God" you moan aloud, then bite at your hand to stop your noises. Flicking one leg over his shoulder, you force his head as close as you can, nearly riding his face. 

If anything, Eddie is a quick learner, at least when it comes to you. 

His tongue is electric, hitting all of the right spots. He feels your cunt on his tongue, leaving hot and heavy licks. Running his hand up your thigh again, he presses his thumb against your clenching hole, wiggling into your slick drenched pussy. 

"Eddie, yes!" You whisper, fingers pulling at his curls incessantly. Eyes rolling back, you rut your hips into him, on the brink of falling apart.

White hot light sears your eyelids as you  come with a stifled cry, cunt undulating around his thick digit. 

"Fuckfuckfuck!" 

Yanking his head away from you by the roots of his hair, you cannot fail to hear the unmistakable moan that spills from his lips. 

Eddie's staring up at you dumbfounded, as if you created the universe just for him. 

Panting, you stare back down at him, his lips parted and shining with your orgasm. 

"Eddie, holy hell." 

He stands, wiping the slick from his face with the back of his hand, though it does nothing to remove the grin. 

Against every better judgement, you grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, lips nearly touching. 

"You- you can't tell anyone about this, OK? Not a soul, understood?" 

If it were possible, his grin grows even wider, palm resting at your waist. 

"I can be discreet." He whispers as he presses his lips to yours. Winding fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, tongue moving expertly between his parted lips to taste him, and you. 

Eddie pulls away reluctantly. 

"I better go." 

As he moves to the door, hand hovering over the handle, you call out to him. 

"Eddie, wait." 

Turning his head, he looks at you. 

"Sammy's seeing Tiff again tonight, and er, Johnny's still at his grandma's." 

"Good to know." He winks and leaves. What you don't know is that he does a mini victory dance once the door is shut, fists pumping in the air with sheer joy. 

He doesn't know how long this is going to last, but he'll take every single second he can get with you whilst you let him. 

Taglist (just some likely candidates ;) )

@cursedyuta @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla @emsgoodthinkin @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eiightysixbaby @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @usedtobecooler @roanniom

[happy74827]

Lucas Lee x reader fluff✨️ I'm sad there isn't a lot of fanfics of this himbo..

Tough Guy

[Lucas Lee x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Lucas Lee confronts you and a friend on set, things take a turn for the worst.

WC: 1894

Category: Fluff, Protective!Lucas

Honestly, I’m sad there’s not a lot of fanfics with any of the exes. Gideon seems to be the most popular out of the bunch, but even then he’s still low and the other 6 deserve a lot more hype.

But, anyway, this anon was so real for requesting Lucas because I absolutely adore him (the series did him SO RIGHT). So, hopefully, I did him right here too :)

『••✎••』

“Hey, Bucko!”

You turned around at the sound of that voice. It was loud and obnoxious, as usual, but you could never help but grin when you heard it.

That was, after all, the voice of Lucas Lee.

Lucas Lee was your current colleague on set. He was in the big leagues, an A-lister, a celebrity. The two of you had only just met a few weeks ago, and since then, you had both taken quite a shine to one another.

It wasn't surprising to you. You have always had a way with people, especially famous ones. Maybe it was your personality. Or maybe you were just so used to them by now that nothing fazed you anymore. You were currently on set for a new movie, and you had already worked on two other movies and one TV series with big names before this.

But Lucas Lee? Oh, he was different.

Maybe it was because you were the same age. Maybe it was the fact that he had such an easygoing personality.

Maybe it was how hot he was.

Yeah, he was totally hot. You didn't like to admit that. It was embarrassing and cliché and unprofessional and-

No, who were you kidding? You totally thought Lucas Lee was hot.

It was hard not to, really. The way he smiled, the way he talked, the way his eyes seemed to be laughing even when his mouth was. Not to mention, the boy was tall and buff as hell. You had no idea what kind of workouts he did, but they were definitely paying off.

You were so engrossed in your thoughts you didn’t realize how he stormed over to you and your friend until he was standing right in front of you, hands on his hips.

"Um, hi," you said, smiling shyly at him.

He didn’t bat an eye towards you. Instead, he looked down at your friend. "Is there… a problem here?" he asked.

It was then you noticed his posture, how he was practically towering over your friend, who was now shrinking back, trying to look small.

You frowned.

What was going on?

"Well, I-" your friend started, but he was immediately cut off.

"Listen, dude, I'm a professional, you know," Lucas said, a dangerous tone to his voice. "I've been doing this for years, and I don't appreciate a little no-name rookie trying to hammer down on my girl like that."

"Wait, what?" you said.

"Your... girl?" your friend said.

You and your friend glanced at each other before looking back up at Lucas, confused.

Lucas, though, didn't seem to notice the looks on your faces or how you had spoken.

“You don't think I know your type? Harassment. That's what it is. Harassment pure and simple. And it's not gonna fly, you hear me? You've been warned."

You looked at him, your eyes wide, and your mouth open, too, but nothing came out. You had no idea what the hell was going on.

And then, you watched as your friend took a step forward. "Wait a second, dude. I wasn't harassing her," he said. "She's my friend, I was just helping rehearse some of her lines—”

Lucas interrupted him. "You were touching her arm."

"I was just—"

"And she was looking down."

"Yeah, but—"

"She was obviously uncomfortable!"

“Actually, I wasn’t…” You tried to say something, but no one heard you.

"Dude, she wasn't looking down. She was looking at the script!"

"So, what? Are you calling her a liar?"

Lucas was glaring at your friend. His expression was fierce, and his muscles were tense, his fists balled up tightly. He looked like he was ready to punch someone. It was a scary sight, to say the least.

You could feel the tension in the air, and your stomach twisted in knots. This wasn’t good.

Your friend, though, didn't back down. He stood up straighter, looking Lucas in the eyes.

"I'm not calling anyone a liar," he said calmly. "I'm just saying that maybe you should check your facts before you accuse someone."

Lucas growled.

"Listen, punk," he said, jabbing a finger into the other man's chest. "I have a reputation to uphold, you know. People rely on me. I've got fans. I can't afford to let people like you ruin things for me. So, why don't you just take a hike, alright?"

"What are you gonna do if I don't?" your friend challenged, and your stomach sank.

Shit.

"Guys, come on. Let's just—"

"What did you just say to me?"

You knew Lucas had a temper; you’ve seen it once before on set—valid reasons, of course. You understood where it came from, and you understood his passion for what he did. But still, his temper was scary, and it didn’t help to notice he was even angrier than usual now.

"Lucas, listen," you started, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He didn't mean it like—"

You gasped as Lucas shoved your friend hard.

"Lucas!"

The shove made your friend fall back, landing on his butt. It was quite ironic, really, considering his height. He wasn’t small by any means, and yet Lucas had just made him look like a small child.

Still, it was a sight you were not happy to see.

"What are you doing?!” You practically screamed at him. “Are you insane?!"

"Stay out of this," he said, not taking his eyes off of your friend. "This is about honor. Respect.”

“Respect… I— What?!” You sputtered, completely baffled.

Your friend had gotten to his feet, looking absolutely pissed. He took a step forward, glaring daggers at Lucas.

"You're gonna pay for that, you bastard!" he spat, and Lucas smirked.

"Yeah, I'd like to see you try."

“Alright, enough! That's it!"

You stepped in between the two men, blocking them from each other's view. Your arms were spread wide, and your eyes were darting between the two.

"Both of you are being idiots!" you yelled. "Lucas, why are you acting like a caveman? And you, I can't believe you're stooping to his level!"

"I'm the idiot? What about him?" your friend pointed an accusatory finger at Lucas. "He's the one who started this whole thing."

"Oh, sure, blame me, why don't ya," Lucas sneered.

"Both of you, shut up!"

They both turned their attention to you.

"Look," you said, sighing. "I'm sorry, but this is completely ridiculous. Lucas, why did you even go after him? What was that about?"

"Yeah, why'd you do that?" your friend echoed, a smug look on his face.

Lucas huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's none of your business."

"Yes, it is," you argued. "You attacked my friend, Lucas."

"I wasn't attacking anyone. I was just defending your honor."

"Honor?"

Your friend scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Right. That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard."

Lucas glowered at him. "Watch it, buddy. I'll deck you again."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"GUYS!"

Both men stopped, turning to look at you.

You glared at the both of them.

"You," you pointed at Lucas. "Need to learn how to keep your cool. This was totally uncalled for. And you," you pointed at your friend. "You need to learn how to walk away from an argument. You're not a little kid. Don't let him bait you like that. Okay?"

You waited for them to answer, but neither of them spoke. They just kept looking at you.

Finally, Lucas was the first to speak.

"Okay," he mumbled, his voice low.

"Yeah, whatever," your friend replied.

You let out a sigh and placed a hand on your hip.

"Good," you said. "Now, Lucas, can you explain to us why you went after my friend?"

You saw his hesitation. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, and his hands were balled up in tight fists.

"Well..."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Well?"

He looked at the ground, kicking his foot against the floor. The skateboarder in him was showing, you noted.

“I was over there, drinking my coffee, and I heard what you were talking about, and I thought you looked uncomfortable, and I... I guess I just lost my cool, alright?"

Your friend looked at him, confused.

"Wait, you were eavesdropping on us?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping!"

"That sounds like eavesdropping to me."

"You little-"

"Lucas, stop," you snapped, and the blond stopped, glaring daggers at your friend.

Your friend just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, dude," he said, shaking his head.

"Lucas, look," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it soothingly. He seemed to relax under your touch, and you felt a surge of pride.

"I appreciate you standing up for me," you continued. "But you can't do stuff like this. Okay? It's not right. You could get in trouble or, worse, fired."

He scoffed at that but nodded. "Yeah, right," he said.

"I'm serious," you said. "If something like this happened, you could be kicked off the project. And then what would we do? Who'd play the lead role with me?”

He didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, his blue eyes boring into yours. There was something unreadable in them, and it made you nervous.

"Lucas?"

He sighed and looked away. "I know, I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Promise me you won't do anything like this again."

"I promise."

You smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Good."

"What about me?" your friend piped up. "Am I free to go now?"

"Yeah, whatever," Lucas waved him off.

Your friend glared at him.

"Whatever," he mocked and turned on his heel, leaving the two of you alone.

Lucas watched him go before turning his attention back to you. His blue eyes were bright, and his lips were curled in a small smile.

"I'm totally hotter than him anyway. No competition," he said, his voice low and husky. It made you chuckle.

“Well, that's debatable," you replied, giving him a sly wink.

"Maybe a black eye would fix that," his tone gave it away that it was a joke, but his body language said otherwise. He was tense, and his knuckles were white.

"Lucas," you warned.

He held up his hands in defense.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," he said. "Don't worry. I'll leave the guy alone."

"Good."

"In my defense, it really did look like he was bothering you. I wasn't totally crazy."

You laughed. "No, you were. Totally crazy. You know, they say you're the cool, collected, bad boy of the big screen, but I don't know. You're more like the hotheaded, passionate, and protective bad boy of the big screen. Or even the small screen. Whatever the case, you're not exactly what the media paints you to be."

Lucas shrugged.

"It's the same old, same old," he said. "People always seem to be so fascinated with me. I can't blame em', really. I'm a pretty interesting guy."

"Oh, yes, definitely. The most interesting man in the world."

"See? You know it."

The two of you laughed, and the tension that had been hanging in the air was now gone.

You were glad. It had been an awkward moment, for sure, and you would have to make sure your friend didn’t sue Lucas since that could get the production on halt or even canceled. But it was over now, and all was well.

For now, at least.

[soulmate-game]

Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.

“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.

“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”

“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”

The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.

“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.

“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”

Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”

“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.

“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”

Batman. Froze.

Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.

Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.

He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.

“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.

Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.

To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.

“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.

“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”

Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”

Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”

“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.

“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”

“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”

“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”

“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.

“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”

“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.

The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.

“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”

“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.

“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”

“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“

When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.

“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.

“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”

“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”

“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.

Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.

“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”

The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.

“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.

Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”

“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.

When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.

“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

I Don’t Like A Gold Rush || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college's football team. Rumor has it, there's simply nothing he can't do. The same cannot be said about you, but you've never had an issue with that. You're happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you've taken an interest in him — and you're sure you shouldn't. There's no way this can end well for you... right?

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 17.3k

Genre: College AU, strangers to lovers, slice of life, mostly fluff

Warnings & Tags: discussed insecurities, alcohol consumption, reader almost has a panic attack at some point, shy jungkook, jungkook is bad at Feelings, Reader is bad at feelings too, mutual pining kinda, Jungkook has long hair, sfw, New Year’s Day themed.

A/N: I don’t know how I would name my stories without Taylor Swift. Anyway, this is more or less centered around the New Year (it was supposed to be more and then... it didn’t happen), and I hope you’ll enjoy it! Happy New Year everyone!

The first time you hear Jungkook’s name, it’s in the sentence “Man, is there anything Jungkook can’t do?”. You look up at your friend Jin from the book you’re studying. You have no idea who Jungkook is, but that doesn’t mean anything. Jin is always complaining about how you don’t know anyone on the campus, which you think is quite unfair.

…but then you really don’t know that many people on the campus.

“What’s going on?” you ask him, because he sounds extremely annoyed, and he shows you his phone. On it, there is a score for a basketball game. You think.

Your college is famous for its basketball team… Right?

“Uh-uh,” you still say with a nod, trying to make it look like you have any idea what you’re talking about.

“This kid is crushing it at school, the girls love him, and now this!” Jin complains, a little too loud, and shushing noises come from a spot behind you. You turn around to give the group an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t have bet against him.”

Ah, there you know what to say.

“You really need to stop making bets. You never win them.”

Jin glares at you.

“And you are a terrible friend. You’re supposed to comfort me!”

“I’ll comfort you when you stop making the worst choices imaginable,” you mutter, going back to your work. Jungkook’s name, his supposed excellence, and that basketball match — if it even is basketball — leave your mind as fast as they entered it, without leaving a trace behind.

“So the school’s won another basketball game, huh?”

You look up at Namjoon who’s just arriving to the table, holding his tray in his hands. You know he can’t possibly be talking to you about that, so you’re not surprised when Jin appears behind him. That doesn’t stop you from throwing Namjoon a disgusted look.

“Really, Joon? Sports?”

Namjoon shoots you an amused glance from behind his glasses. It’s notorious in your friends’ group that you despise conversations around that subject. You hate anything that involves objects flying around and anything that’s played in a team, and, apparently, those are the only sports that people care about. They could discuss athletics, or swimming, which you wouldn’t enjoy but you wouldn’t hate, but that never happens.

“You were right, Jin. That Jungkook guy really is impressive.”

You tune them out. You don’t care about basketball.

“You’re talking about yesterday’s game?” Yoongi asks, coming out of thin air, and you sigh. You had been hoping you would have at least one person to talk to during lunch.

“Jungkook’s friends with Hoseok,” Jin says, leaning forward conspiratorially, which does get your attention. If that’s true, then that Jungkook guy can’t be a completely terrible person. Hoseok is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met.

That being said, he might have very low standards for his friends. You know him enough to appreciate him, not to judge his tastes.

“So I’m going to become friends with him,” Jin announces triumphantly, only to be rewarded by a chorus of groans and protests.

“But why, Jin?” you ask. “Please don’t talk about popularity. This isn’t high school anymore.”

“And that stuff was already stupid back then,” Namjoon adds, and you nod. You can always count on Namjoon to support you.

“And I hate people,” Yoongi says.

“And Yoongi hates people!” Namjoon immediately picks up. “Do you really want to make him go through that?”

You grin at the question. Yoongi’s misanthropy always comes in handy. Jin, however, is not amused, but he just shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s used to the three of you teaming up against him by now. Usually, it’s on academical subjects, but he isn’t phased by it anymore regardless of that. Not that there’s much that can phase Jin anyway.

“First of all, I said I was going to be his friend, not you lowly peasants, and second, he seems like a nice guy! Do I need another reason to want to make friends?”

You tilt your head.

“He’s protesting too much,” you say.

“I agree,” Namjoon nods. “That’s suspicious.”

“Very suspicious.”

“Come on,” Jin rolls his eyes, “do you really think that little of me?”

“And now he’s trying to guilt-trip us. Joon, can’t you analyze that conversation and figure out what it all means?”

“You know that’s not how literary analysis works, right?” Jin asks you, but you ignore him.

“Actually, it is,” Namjoon says, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’d say you were right with your comment,” he adds, looking at you. “I’d say… this is about parties.”

“You’re not going to actually believe—”

“Thanks, Joon,” you say, and the two of you high-five without looking at each other. Yoongi lets out an appreciate whistle.

Even if Namjoon and you aren’t being serious about this, parties actually make sense. Jin… isn’t quite a social butterfly but, unlike the three of you, he does enjoy people’s company to some degree. You know first hand that he’s been to a few this year — you had accompanied him for moral support — but they were pretty tame, and you’re aware that he at least wants to try some more intense stuff. The problem was that those were harder to be invited to. Hoseok could probably do something about it, but he tends to avoid parties on campus.

“Okay, then you should go for it,” you nod.

Yoongi and Namjoon, sitting on either side of you, approve. Jin looks a little surprised at your reaction.

“That changed your mind?”

“You said you wanted ‘the full college experience’,” Namjoon explains with a shrug. “If you think that’s part of it, we wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

“We will judge you for it, though,” Yoongi warns without batting an eyelid, pokerface perfect, and you laugh. You won’t be mean about it, of course. You just might tease him a little.

“Thank you,” Jin says. “I’ll do it, then.”

Good. If you’re lucky, it will be out of his system next time you all have lunch together.

Lady luck had never been on your side, for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t like you got the worst of things either, but usually, things that could go wrong, did go wrong. Because of that, you tried your best to remove those things from your path. Sometimes, though, you just didn’t manage to identify them.

And that’s why, when you hear Jin’s voice and look up from your food, being the first at the table as always, you see he’s accompanied by two people.

One of them has fluffy, dark brown hair, falling on either side of his face and in his eyes. He’s talking and laughing, and there’s something that you can’t help but identify as mischievous in his smile. The other is slightly taller, with jet black hair held up in a bun. He’s quiet, mouth opening for silent laughs when his friend jokes. Between them, there’s Jin, and you think that they look good together. All handsome, all holding themselves with confidence.

You had realized before that Jin felt out of place in your group, from an outside point of view at least, but it’s never been as striking as it is now, as he’s walking with people he clearly belongs with.

It makes you really thankful that he’s your friend.

“Hey,” Jin says, smiling widely, “these are—”

“You’re untying your hair before eating?” you say, looking at the guy with the bun who just sat opposite from you and took off his hair tie with a sigh. He looks up at you with wide round eyes, like you just caught him red-handed — doing what, you’re not quite sure.

That is the first thing you ever say to Jeon Jungkook.

“Um. Yes?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get hair in your food?”

You know people find you too blunt sometimes, think you come off as aggressive, but you almost never intend for that to happen. In that case, you just think the logic here is a bit surprising.

“That’s… a good point, actually.”

“(Y/N),” Jin sighs, “let me introduce you to Jungkook” (he points to the man who’s now tying his hair back up) “and Taehyung.” (he points to the other guy, who’s flashing you a smile.)

“Oh,” you say, looking back at Jungkook. “You play basketball.”

He lets out an awkward laugh and avoids your eyes. Instead, he grabs his fork and focuses on it, twirling it in his hand.

“Yeah, I do— I do that.”

Huh. It takes you a second to piece things together, and you think Namjoon will be of great help once he’ll be there, but for now, one conclusion comes to you.

Jungkook is shy.

“I play basketball too,” Taehyung says, leaning over the table, grinning at you, and you can tell that it’s his way of swooping in to save Jungkook. You can appreciate that.

“She hates basketball,” Jin warns.

“That’s a strong word,” you say, but only half-heartedly, because, well, you definitely don’t like it.

“I think it works.”

“You think what works?”

Jin’s face falls while you grin. If Taehyung is Jungkook’s savior, Namjoon is yours. Your friend sends you a questioning look as he sits next to you, facing Taehyung. He gives polite nods to the two basketball players, like they sit with you at lunch every week, but you notice that he doesn’t quite meet their eyes. Namjoon is not particularly shy, nor a misanthrope like Yoongi, he just isn’t too comfortable around people he’s just met.

You and Jin, well, you’re perhaps a little too comfortable. Not everyone likes it.

“He says I hate basketball.”

“But that would imply you care about basketball.”

“Exactly.”

“And you don’t.”

“I know.”

“Which means you don’t hate basketball. As always, you’re wrong, Jin.”

Jin looks extremely, extremely done with you, but when you and Namjoon high-five, Jungkook laughs quietly and Taehyung nods in appreciation — for the gesture, not the debate.

That is the moment when Yoongi drops his tray on the table and sends a weird glance towards Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What did I miss?” he asks. His tone is a bit dry, and you see Jin’s shoulders straightening. He knows Yoongi is going to be the most difficult one to win over. Not that you’ve been won over yet, but you’re not that difficult. Usually, people don’t like you, not the other way around. You don’t blame them. You’re not sure you’d like yourself very much if you were in their place.

“Oh,” Jungkook says spontaneously, “we had a class together last year! You’re majoring in engineering, right?”

Yoongi looks at him. His eyes are shining with suspicion, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. Knowing him, he’s definitely wondering why Jungkook would even remember him.

“Right,” he finally confirms, slowly.

There’s a moment of silence, which Namjoon breaks.

“I’m a literature major, by the way.”

“That’s really cool,” Jungkook comments honestly, with the same spontaneity he displayed earlier.

“And I’m in mathematics,” you say.

“Wow. I thought you people existed only in legends,” Taehyung says while Jungkook avoids your eyes. You decide that, yeah, you like Kim Taehyung.

“Don’t say that, I like maths,” Jungkook protests, voice soft, much to your surprise — and, judging by his reaction, Taehyung’s.

You were right, you decide. Jungkook is not a completely terrible person.

You didn’t expect it to become a routine, for Jungkook and Taehyung to eat with you guys, but it does, and as time goes on, other people join your little table. You’re not sure you like that. It’s clear that those people are orbiting around Jungkook, which, good for them, but you don’t see why you need to be there for that.

You do see that Jungkook is not completely comfortable with all of it. He’s good at handling people, good at making jokes and at laughing at the right times, you notice, but there is a stiffness in his shoulders more often than not, and it looks like he’s well-trained at it rather than enjoying it. It kind of reminds you of Jin, except Jin is not as quiet the rest of the time. Taehyung obviously does his best not to let his friend deal with things alone, which is sweet, but he can’t do everything for him.

You barely exchange a word with Jungkook during that time period. You’re usually trying to be forgotten when the table is buzzing with noise, finding refuge in Namjoon and Yoongi’s company. You thought Yoongi would be an ally in reclaiming what’s always been your spot, but it quickly becomes obvious that he has a crush on Taehyung’s friend Jimin, so he never complains about the recent invasion of the table by strangers.

You hear a lot of basketball vocabulary. More than you care for, to be honest. That’s one of the few moments when Jungkook’s face lights up and he gets truly excited, with an almost childish happiness. His demeanor changes, from shy to confident, and the transformation never ceases to amaze you. As soon as the conversation ends, his shoulders fall, he smiles awkwardly, and focuses back on his food or his phone.

You’ve met his eyes a few times in those moments, because he often looks around him like he’s afraid someone’s noticed. He averts his very quickly, though, so you’ve never said anything about it.

So, really, there’s not much that changes. You still only speak to your three friends — you think Taehyung is a good person, and you don’t think he hates you, but you don’t have anything to say to each other —, and sure, you have a little less space when you eat and more noise around you, but aside from that, it’s pretty much the same. You think that’s a relief. You’re not too fond of change.

Usually, you’re pretty decent at spotting it coming. You did miss it when Jin said he was going to become Jungkook’s friend, but other than that you’re able to do your best to avoid it. You don’t see anything coming the day Taehyung calls out your name, though. You look up at him from the book Namjoon is showing you, surprised. He has an arm slung over Jungkook’s shoulders, and Jungkook isn’t looking at you, of course.

“Do you think you could explain a maths-thing to Jungkook?”

You blink at him.

“What’s the ‘maths-thing’?”

“Does it matter?”

You raise an eyebrow, and Jungkook groans. You get the feeling that he didn’t really want Taehyung to ask you about it. He sends an annoyed glance to his friend, who is still smiling brightly at you, while pushing a lock of hair out of his face. His hair is tied, but this one traitorous lock always escapes.

“I’m struggling a little with probabilities,” he admits, glancing at you for half a second. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine once I can get my head back into it, I’ve just been training a lot recently and—”

“I can help you, if you want,” you say. “I’m not the most fond of probabilities, but it should be okay.”

“Great!” Taehyung says, patting his friend’s shoulder before Jungkook can answer. “You should do that then.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jungkook asks, actually looking at you this time. You meet his eyes, notice that he looks worried about it. You can’t figure out why.

“I really don’t,” you shrug.

He smiles at you, a small, hesitant smile, but a smile nonetheless. Probably the first one he directs at you. It’s a nice sight, you decide, and you smile back.

Jin’s sentence “is there anything Jungkook can’t do” takes all its sense on the day you meet Jungkook at the library to study. You don’t know what you expected. You never thought Jungkook was dumb or anything, but since Taehyung asked you to help, you thought he would have some difficulties, at least. However, as it turns out, he either understands immediately when you explain something to him, or he’s already understood it. He asks for some clarifications here and there, but all in all, you feel kind of useless.

“You don’t need me at all,” you say after a little while, and Jungkook looks up from the book with the worried wide-eyed look you’ve gotten used to.

“No, no, you’re doing a great job,” he protests. “You’re really helping me out here.”

“No I’m not. It’s obvious that you could do that all on your own.”

He deflates a little at that, looks away from you.

“You help,” he mumbles. “I have a hard time focusing when I’m alone.”

Oh.

That makes a lot of sense to you, actually. You’re good at focusing all of your energy on one thing, perhaps even too good, to the point where you easily get obsessed and become unable to take care of anything else, but even you need the right conditions for that.

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

Jungkook gives you an anxious look.

“So you don’t mind helping me out?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that catches you, but you can’t tell what it is exactly. Maybe it’s the hope, or maybe it’s the fear. You don’t understand what he’d be afraid of. Worst case scenario, you would say no. That wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“We can work together,” you offer. “You can ask me if you need help for anything and I’ll just work on some other stuff.”

He seems relieved, and again, you just don’t understand it. It’s not like you’re his only option. There are plenty of people out there who could help him. Plenty of people who would jump at the opportunity of helping him. You know that, because he’s always surrounded by those people, and everybody in school seems to know him. Even when you walked into the library with him earlier, before you got to the table you’re sitting at now, a few students greeted him. You don’t see why he would attach any importance to you, specifically, helping him. You barely know each other.

“Thanks,” he says, and he gives you a small smile. For some reason, that makes you drop the subject. Instead of asking about it — which, knowing yourself, you probably would have — you shrug it off and reply with a nod.

The silence that follows feels comfortable, to you at least. You’ve never minded silence. Jin hates it, though. You get to work, watching absent-mindedly as Jungkook goes through the lesson he was working on. He does ask you a couple of questions, but it’s probably to make you feel like you’re doing something rather than because he actually needs it. You still answer them, and watch him grin, satisfied with himself, when he turns out to be right every single time.

“Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this week-end?” he asks out of the blue after about an hour.

You look up, surprised. The two of you haven’t exchanged much, and certainly have not talked about anything other than— well, other than maths. His eyes are on his notebook, as usual, and you don’t get any insight as to why he asked the question.

“I don’t know. Is Jin coming?”

“Uh, I guess? Taehyung’s probably talked to him about it.”

“Then I’m probably going.”

Jungkook mulls over your answer for a few seconds, twirling his pencil between his fingers, and you feel like you have to clarify, which is not an urge you have often. Usually, you let people decipher for themselves what you meant. That works very well with Namjoon, sometimes with Yoongi, not so great with the rest of the world. Including Jin, though Jin compensates with his impressive ability to interpret everything you say in his favor.

“We always go to parties with Jin. For moral support.”

For all that you tease him, you genuinely care for him. You know he wants you to go with him, so you do. It’s as simple as that.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, but he still smiles at what you say, and it’s— it’s interesting. There’s something about his behavior that makes you curious, like you are when you’re trying to solve a complicated equation.

“That’s nice,” he comments.

“So… you’ll be there?” you ask. It’s taken you a long time to come up with that simple question. It often takes you a long time to find things to say to keep a conversation going. You’re pretty bad at it.

“It’s at my fraternity,” Jungkook informs you, glancing at you briefly, and you smile. This is exactly the type of party Jin wanted to go to. He’s probably happy about it. “The entire basketball team should be there.”

Great. People.

“That’s nice,” you say, because you have no idea what to add at this point. Jungkook simply nods, and the conversation dies an awkward death.

It’s another half an hour until Jungkook looks at his watch and starts putting his stuff back in his bag.

“I have to go to practice,” he tells you, clearly in a hurry. “Can we— Would you mind if—”

“We can do this again. If that’s what you meant.”

He gives you a bright smile, and that actually surprises you. He looks relieved that you finished his sentence for him.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely.

And just like that, he’s gone, practically running out of the library. For someone who talks as little as he does, he sure leaves a void when he goes away, you think, looking at the empty chair.

But you quickly shrug it off. You’re used to being alone. You like being alone.

Jungkook isn’t going to change that.

You realize very quickly that, while accompanying Jin to parties was never something you particularly enjoyed, going to this one was downright a mistake.

You have this unspoken rule, with your friends, that you shouldn’t stick together the entire time. You’re supposed to wander off, find something to do for yourself, maybe talk to some people. Get that college experience. You’ve never had a problem to do that, even if you ended up quietly sipping soda in a corner more often than not.

Here, though, you simply cannot shake off the fact that you don’t belong here, that this is not your scene. The people here are loud, energetic, garish. They make you feel like a black and white picture, like a silent movie. You want to run away, but you can’t. You don’t want to leave Jin, Namjoon or Yoongi behind, even if you doubt they’re having the same kind of problems you do. You’re pretty sure you saw Yoongi talking with Jimin, and last time you saw Namjoon, you think a cheerleader was holding him by the hand and leading him out of the room. You don’t know what Jin’s doing, but you’re trusting that he’s okay.

You walk around aimlessly, find Jungkook and Taehyung playing beer-pong with some people. Maybe you should be happy to see people you know, but you’re not. If anything, it only drives the point home even more to see them so comfortable: you don’t belong here. Your chest tightens, and you turn around. You need a little peace and quiet. You need to get away.

“(Y/N)!”

You jump at the sound of your name. No one’s said it since you’ve entered the house. No one knows you here.

Except Jungkook, who’s right behind you.

He’s more confident than usual, and you guess, based on his slightly hazy eyes, that it has a lot to do with alcohol.

“Are you having fun? How long have you been here? It’s nice to see you!”

He’s speaking fast, excitedly, and as he does, he runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s let down. It looks good on him, you decide, even as you reply to him with a tense smile.

“Hey, you should join us, we’re—”

“Do you have a closet somewhere?”

Jungkook blinks.

“A closet?”

“Yeah.”

There are probably very few things that are less weird than asking a guy if he has a closet you can get into because you’re on the verge of having a panic attack and you can’t stay outside surrounded by people a second longer.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, though. He just leads you through the house and opens the door to a closet for you. You get inside without giving it much more thought, and he looks at you, puzzled. He’s actually looking at you, which you decide confirms that he is drunk.

“Do you— Are you waiting for someone?”

“No,” you say. “I just need a little break.”

He thinks about your answer for a while, probably longer than needed, and nods.

And then, he gets into the closet with you and closes the door.

Inside, it’s dark, with only a ray of light coming in. You can’t see his face, which doesn’t help you understand why he just did that. The space is cramped, and you can smell alcohol coming from his breath, can feel the heat radiating from his body, but it doesn’t bother you that much. It’s still better in here than outside.

“Why did you do that?”

“I thought I would keep you company. Like you’re here to keep company to Jin, you know?”

He’s drunk, definitely, and yet you feel genuinely touched by his words. You shouldn’t, because you doubt they hold that much meaning, but you can’t help it. You don’t need company, but that’s besides the point. His intentions are what matters.

“Thank you,” you say.

“It’s not a problem. You’re helping me with my maths.”

Your first reaction is to laugh at that, because it feels completely unprompted, but then the logic of the reasoning kind of appears to you.

“I mean it!” Jungkook protests. “You haven’t talked about how I’m good at everything or how I’m the one who should help you.”

You frown.

“You shouldn’t help me. You’re good at maths, but I’m better than you.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh, and just like his earlier smile, it takes you completely by surprise. It’s not one of those quiet laughs that he usually has. It’s light and pleasant, and you briefly wonder what his face looks like when he laughs like that. You kind of want to see it.

“You’re a scary person,” he tells you when he’s stopped laughing. “You always say those things directly. It’s like you don’t even care.”

You’ve heard that before. Well, you haven’t been called scary until now, but people have said that you were intimidating. You, personally, believe you’re the least threatening person to have ever walked this Earth. You couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to.

Jungkook makes some sense here, though. Your filter is very limited, and there are a lot of things you say that feel acceptable to you, and that other people… don’t think are acceptable. You don’t mean to do it. It just happens.

“I think you’re good at a lot of things, though,” you say slowly.

Jungkook lets out a long sigh and then you hear him sliding down to the ground. You hesitate for about half a second before joining him down there. You fold your legs, holding your knees against your chest while you wait for him to say something.

“People are always saying that,” he finally mumbles. “But what if I’m not that good? What if I fail one day?”

It’s strange. You understand what he’s saying, understand the feeling of pressure, but you don’t understand the emotions that should come with it. In your case, you know that no one holds you to a higher standard than you do. It can be unhealthy, the way you can torture yourself if you don’t meet the standards you’ve set for yourself, but at least you’re the only one you have to answer to. Obviously, it’s not Jungkook’s case.

“Then you’ll try again,” you say, because that’s what you do when you fail. “Or, if you think it’s not that important, you won’t.”

“But what will they say?” he insists. “What if we lose the next game? Or the one after that? What if I fail a class? I can’t get anything done these days.”

“You’ll be fine,” you say soothingly, half-wondering how you ended up here, comforting the college’s golden boy in a closet after fighting off a panic attack. “It’s not like you’re the only one in your team. People will understand.”

You think they will. You hope they will. They should.

“You would understand.”

It’s true, but then, you really do not care for basketball, and it’s not like you have that sort of expectations for Jungkook. You wouldn’t think much of it, if he failed at something tomorrow. If it was the maths test you’ve helped him with, you would be surprised, but that’s because you saw him studying and it was obvious he had understood everything, not because you think he can inherently succeed at everything he does.

Which you guess might be the heart of the problem here.

You reach out to put your hand on his shoulder. It’s not that easy in the dark, and you wonder for a second if you’ve grabbed something else, until you feel hair tickling your skin. Yup, you were right.

“You have the right not to be good at something every once in a while,” you say softly. “No one can be on top of their game all of the time.”

You hear what sounds like a choked sob.

“I like that they’re counting on me, you know? I like that I’m helping them out by playing. I just— I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

He said when, not if, and that breaks your heart.

Without thinking about it, you slide your hand down his arm and grab his hand. You squeeze it in yours, gently, and then you inch closer to put your head on his shoulder. You remember reading that physical touch was good for people who were in emotional pain. You hope it helps him.

“You locked yourself in here with me because you thought I needed company,” you whisper. “There’s so much more to you than just being good at sports or having good grades. And if people don’t see that, it’s their loss. Because you’re a great person.”

He hums, but the sound is quiet, and it’s then that you realize how tense he is.

Shit. You must have crossed a boundary. You start to remove your hand, but he closes his fingers around yours, keeping you in place. He’s still tense, you can feel it everywhere his body touches yours. But he doesn’t let go.

“You mean that,” he says. There are so many emotions in his voice that you can’t identify them all. Relief, happiness, amusement… You don’t know where to start.

“I usually mean what I say.”

“I’ve noticed,” he says, and you can hear the smile that’s dancing on his lips.

He’s still not letting go of your hand, but you don’t mind. Staying here, with Jungkook, in this small closet is as good a way of spending your evening as anything else you could do out there.

So you stay.

“Where did you all vanish Saturday?” Jin asks, and Namjoon, Yoongi and yourself immediately find your food a lot more interesting. You exchange panicked glances that mean ‘did none of you stay around? This was poorly coordinated’ before finally daring to look up.

“I talked to Jimin,” Yoongi says, face as inexpressive as always.

“I played some beer-pong with Taehyung,” Namjoon says.

That leaves only you.

“I talked to Jungkook,” you tell Jin. That is technically true. It omits the part where the two of you were together in a closet, but if you said that, there would be a lot of questions you don’t really want to answer to. Somehow, you think you would be more embarrassed to tell them that there was nothing going on there than if you told them you hooked up with him. You’re not sure why.

“Jungkook disappeared for a long time,” Jin says, narrowing his eyes at you.

You do your best to keep a straight face while you poke at your salad. You don’t want anyone here to have the wrong idea, and you finally manage to put your finger on what you’re afraid of. Humiliation. You’d feel humiliated at having to tell them that nothing happened and that there is nothing Jungkook could possibly see in you. They would be nice to you, of course they would, but you don’t want to see the look in their eyes.

“Did he? Maybe that was after I left. I didn’t stay that long.”

That’s a lie.

“Really?” Jin asks, clearly skeptical. “I think I saw you there pretty late.”

Maybe when you went down to get some snacks and drinks to bring back to the closet. Damn Jungkook and his stomach.

“Well, that depends what you mean by ‘late’ and ‘long’,” you say.

That’s you calling Namjoon for help, and he recognizes your SOS for what it is. From the way Jin’s face falls, so does he.

“She’s right,” Namjoon comments, so nonchalant you would almost believe he’s doing it naturally. “What is ‘late’, really? Isn’t it always—”

“Please stop,” Jin groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just because you’re a literature major doesn’t mean you’re the only one who understands words.”

“Actually it does,” you say with a nod. “That’s exactly what it means.”

You start lifting your hand for a high-five, relieved Jin’s attention is off you, but he sends the two of you a dark glare.

“You two are unbearable. Don’t do that.”

“We have to,” you protest. You would hate to miss a chance to high-five Namjoon.

“No you don’t, you—”

“Actually they do,” Yoongi says, and your jaw drops. Yoongi never intervenes, and you had always thought that if he did, it wouldn’t be in your favor. “That’s exactly how gravity works.”

Jin looks like his soul has left his body. He only comes back to himself after you, Yoongi and Namjoon have all exchanged high-fives.

“I hate you,” he says, sounding terribly tired. “I hate every single one of you.”

“Sorry Jin,” you smile warmly.

“No you’re not. You’re the worst.”

Except he sounds fond, affectionate, and you laugh before going back to your salad. You miss the quick glances your three friends exchange after that. They’ve all noticed you eluding and changing the subject. They don’t want to rush you, know you would hate it and that it’s better to drop it.

But they’ve noticed.

Working with Jungkook on Wednesday afternoons easily becomes a habit, so easily you don’t even notice it until it’s something you look forward to during the week. It adds to the time you already spend eating with him and Taehyung. Jungkook is, slowly, starting to become a part of your life. It’s a thought you refuse to dwell on, because it sounds so strange.

The Wednesdays afternoons are something special, though. You and Jungkook don’t really talk at lunch, even if he’s clearly more relaxed around you now, which you suspect is the reason why you’re ‘Taehyung-approved’. On Wednesdays, you— Well, you don’t talk much, either, but it’s different. It’s a time that only belongs to the two of you. You like that.

You slowly find out things about him, his family, his life. It’s never the main subject of conversation, but it makes you feel like you’re solving a puzzle.

“My father wanted me to focus on my classes and forget about basketball,” he comments once. “But I could do both.”

It makes you laugh, because he says it with obvious satisfaction, but it also makes you wonder if there’s more to it. Jungkook doesn’t add anything, though, and you don’t want to probe into his life, so you don’t ask. After that, small pieces of the puzzle keep falling into place.

“My high school coach told me I could train more if I didn’t work so hard for school.” But he could do both.

“My friends said I never hung out with them anymore and that I shouldn’t work so hard.” So he did both.

It’s always the same story. People telling him things, giving him opinions on what the should and shouldn’t do, and him stretching himself thinner and thinner. It’s almost a miracle he’s still doing as well as he is, honestly.

But his tone changes when he talks about his former relationships. He’s usually light and genuine, sharing with you just because. It’s clear that, as much as the stories make you frown, he doesn’t have an issue with them, and you guess that’s all that matters. The first time he says something about an ex-girlfriend of his, though, he’s guarded, almost careful. He sounds like he doesn’t want to tell you.

“My ex said I worked too much.”

He doesn’t add anything. Whatever it was she wanted, he couldn’t do it and work. Didn’t manage to do both. After that, he doesn’t look at you for the rest of the day, like he did when you first met.

You never get a name for the girlfriend. He talks about relationships again, but you don’t even know if he’s always talking about the same one. You doubt it, though, and it only makes things worse.

“My ex wanted me to attend fewer practices.”

“My ex said I didn’t care enough to make time for her.”

“My ex dumped me after I lost a game.”

That last one hurts you, because you remember him crying in the closet because of that exact fear. You want to take his hand again, but you can’t dare to.

“She’s stupid for that,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks surprised first, because you never comment on what he’s telling you, then a smile slowly forms on his lips.

“If the only reason she was with you was because you won a lot of games, you’re better off without her,” you add.

“That’s what Taehyung said.”

“Taehyung’s right.”

Jungkook goes quiet for a little while after that, to the point that you look up, worried that you might have offended him. When you do, he’s looking at you, something you can’t identify shining in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

He blinks like he’d just woken up for a dream, then nods. He doesn’t tell you that he hadn’t believed what Taehyung said — until you said it and he looked at you and thought that yeah, maybe he was better off without her indeed.

You’re surprised to run into Jungkook late one night, as you’re walking back to your dorm. It shouldn’t shock you — you do go to the same college — but you’re so used to only ever seeing him in the library or the cafeteria that meeting him outside is almost confusing. At least he seems taken aback as well, if the way his already round eyes widen is anything to go by.

Then, his surprised face morphs into a smile, and a wave of warmth hits you without a warning. You don’t get any time to think about it before he waves at you. His shyness is not completely gone, and you see him waver, hesitate, even as he’s walking up to you. You’re quick to close the gap between you, meeting him in the middle. Just in case.

“Hey,” he says, voice a little raspy. He has what you identify as a sports bag, slung over his shoulder, and you wonder what he was doing out so late. You were working at the library until it closed, which is far from being rare for you, but that obviously wasn’t his case.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling back. “Were you— training?”

Amusement flashes in his eyes at the careful way you chose your words, afraid to get it wrong. As he grew more comfortable around you, he also started making fun of you for not knowing the first thing about basketball. Strangely, you don’t mind that much.

“I was at the gym,” he says. “Practice was earlier today.”

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Should you ask what he was doing at the gym? The answer would only leave you with more questions, you’re sure.

You’re still debating it when Jungkook clears his throat. He reaches for his ponytail and undoes it, shaking his head so the hair fall back into place. The sight is— interesting. Pretty. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinated by it.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” he asks, slight concern in his voice. “It’s late.”

“Is it on your way back?” you question, frowning. You would hate to be a bother.

“No, but—”

“I’m fine, then. I do that several times a week, I’ve never had a problem.”

That was, apparently, not the thing to say. Jungkook only looks more worried now.

“Several times a week? That’s really not careful.”

“I don’t see a problem, there’s no one around.”

“That’s exactly my p—” He stops and shakes his head, but gives a look you’ve seen before. A lot. It’s a look that says ‘I can’t believe someone as smart as you can also be so stupid’, in those exact terms. “Expected value,” he then says, and your eyes widen a little. Maths! Great. You can do maths. “Let’s say there’s a 99% chance nothing happens. Your gain is still minimal.”

Well, you get to study late and enjoy a walk home alone at night, but you’re willing to humor him.

“But in the one per-cent where something bad happens…”

He doesn’t have to finish his sentence. You know exactly where this is going, and you let out a sigh. He’s not wrong. On that aspect, at least.

“Fine.”

He grins widely.

“I just beat you at maths.”

“You didn’t beat me, I—”

“I just beat you at maths!”

You roll your eyes, choose to let him have that. It’s not going to change anything to your behavior after tonight, because the day has not come where you’ll let probabilities rule your life, but, after all, you don’t mind sharing your night walk with him.

Jungkook starts showing up to walk you home whenever he can. It’s not every time, which you’re kind of thankful for — you like his company, but you like being alone just as much, and you need a healthy dose of that every week —, but it does happen regularly. You find him sitting in front of the library, freezing cold, and you take pity on him, buying him a coffee from the vending machine inside, seconds before they lock the building.

That’s how you find out he likes his coffee tasting as little like coffee as possible.

Sometimes, he joins you later, and you hear him jogging to catch up with you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that that defeats the purpose of everything he’s doing, because it’s absolutely terrifying.

As the days turn into weeks, the air becomes colder, and you start seeing Christmas decorations appearing over the campus. You don’t know who is in charge of doing that, but they must be excited about it, because tinsel and few strings of fairy lights start appearing around the campus at the end of November. Jungkook is delighted by it, and you enjoy watching his reactions. You’re not big on Christmas, personally. You enjoy the tradition, the gift-giving, spending time with your family — you’re visiting them briefly this year — but you mostly see Christmas as an excuse for all of that. Jungkook loves it, though, and you decide that his excitement makes you like the season a little more.

“Hey, we should make a stop,” he tells you one night.

You look at him like he’s crazy. It’s the middle of December and it’s already half past nine. You’re cold, it’s dark outside, and you want to go home.

“A stop?” you repeat.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, and he has that wide, childish grin that you’ve seen only a handful of times. You haven’t learned how to resist it yet. “C’mon!”

You sigh. But you follow.

As it turns out, he takes you just a little way off your usual trajectory. Behind a building you’ve never really paid attention to, Jungkook leads you to a small basketball court. You eye the place suspiciously. It’s empty, well lit, but you never know. A ball might come out of nowhere to hit you in the face, as they had a tendency to do when you were in high school and playing for a team that had picked you last.

By the time you turn around to tell Jungkook that, okay, you’ve seen it, let’s go home now, he’s taken off his coat and pulled a basketball out of his bag. You don’t even want to ask. His grin is even wider than earlier.

“C’mon,” he says.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me show you, okay?”

You want to say no but— It can’t hurt, right? And Jungkook loves basketball, and you’re his— friend or something, so you should try to take some interest in it.

You take off your coat and let him lead you onto the court. There, you watch him as he dribbles in what you guess is an effective way (you can’t know for sure, you’re barely able to catch the ball after it’s bounced once so your standards are incredibly low), and then demonstrates his ability to score a handful of times. It’s not that you’re not impressed — again, you can’t do anything with this unpredictable, devilish round thing — but you also can’t say this is a quality you think much of.

You liked it a lot better when he convinced you to let him walk you home by talking about the expected value.

“You want to try?” he offers, holding the ball out for you.

You would rather die.

But you take the ball from his hand and eye the basket like it’s personally offended you. That makes Jungkook laugh.

“You can get closer than that,” he says.

You hold back a groan, aim and, of course, fail. It’s almost a relief. You can cross that off your list, again, just like you did as a kid first, then as a teenager. You’re bad at sports, always have been and, considering the effort you’re putting into it those days, always will be. That’s something you can count on.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook’s caught the ball and is running back towards you.

“Okay, let me show you.”

Is he going to— No, he’s just demonstrating it. You’re kind of disappointed not to get your typical ‘guy teaching girl anything sports related’ moment, disappointed that he doesn’t come to stand behind you to show you like they do in movies, but you can’t unpack that right now. You do watch with some degree of interest as he shows you how to position yourself.

“So you really aim for the line above the basket, not the basket, okay?”

“If you think that just because I aim for something I hit it…”

He chuckles, then gives the ball back to you, and you sigh. This. This is why you hate sports. It’s not the one-off failure, that would be fine on its own. It’s the constant humiliation whenever you even try it. You’re going to fail this attempt, and the next one, and the one after that. You’re a lost cause. You’re fine with it, too, but you don’t particularly want to go through that again.

You do your best, though. Not because you think it will change something, but because you kind of want to prove that this isn’t all you. That, even if you’re trying your hardest, there’s just something that refuses to let you score or do it right.

“Wait!” Jungkook walks over to you, puts his hand on your back, and you freeze. “You need to straighten yourself a little,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades, and you nod. His hand is warm and large, you can feel it even over your sweatshirt. “There.”

He removes the hand, and you’re left a little off balance without him by your side. You shake your head quickly, shoot, and, without any surprise, miss.

Jungkook is on the ball just as fast as before, but you’re as quick as him to grab your coat and put it back on. You’re already feeling warm all over, though.

“You don’t want to try again?” he asks, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Of course, you take pity on him.

“Maybe next time,” you say.

He gives you a bright smile, so genuinely happy, and you know that you won’t be able to deny him next time either.

Jin is the reason you’re here, and that is the version you will stick with. No, you didn’t want to go see a basketball game, even if Jungkook is playing. No, you didn’t feel the slightest bit curious about it. No, you would not be there if Jin hadn’t asked. It’s Jin’s fault if you’re here on a Friday night instead of being, well, at your place, likely doing something equally as unproductive.

You don’t even understand what is going on in the field. There’s a lot of running and throwing the ball, that’s for sure, but then, you’ve just learned that scoring from different places in the field and at different moments will not earn the players the same amount of points.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your friends look at you with such consternation as when they had to explain it to you.

In that situation, you can’t say that you get much from looking at the field. You definitely follow Jungkook with your eyes, cheer and clap when he scores, and let out cries of disappointment with the rest of the crowd when he doesn’t, but truly, the only way you have any idea what’s going on is by looking at the score board. And the truth is, that score is a little too close for comfort.

You hate that it has that much of an impact on you, but it stresses you out. Your leg bounces on the floor, an habit of yours Jin hates, but he’s too focused to notice, which is only more stressful. Jin always notices, and if it doesn’t, it must mean that the situation is dire.

The remaining seconds are slowly ticking down. Jungkook’s team is ahead by only one point, which means that if the other team scores, they will win. You think. You’re not entirely sure, but for your defense, you’ve just heard about it. Jungkook seems to be everywhere on the field. Taehyung is his shadow, perhaps not as noticeable or as spectacular in his actions, but certainly effective.

Again, you have no knowledge of basketball whatsoever.

Jin grabs your thigh, and only then do you realize that something’s happened. The action was so quick, so smooth, that you missed it entirely — but maybe you were also kind of thinking of something else.

Someone from the other team — you don’t even know your school’s team’s players, you’re not going to learn the other ones — just made a break for it. Based on what you can tell, Taehyung blocked his path, pushing him straight into Jungkook’s arms. In a movement you cannot begin to comprehend, Jungkook takes the ball from him, without ever stopping his run.

After that, he’s unstoppable.

He crosses the field, looking almost like he’s dancing in the way he avoids his opponents, and, of course, scores.

The time falls to zero. The crowd stands up like one man, screaming and shouting, and you yourself find yourself jumping up to hug Jin. He hugs you back, but the two of you quickly separate, patting each other’s backs awkwardly.

Jin starts talking with Namjoon and Yoongi, but you tune them out — it’s not like you understand what they’re saying anyway — to look at the field. The players have lifted Jungkook on their shoulders and he’s laughing, holding on to them so he doesn’t fall, and you grin.

“Come on,” Jin says, “let’s go congratulate him!”

That sounds like a terrible idea, you think. You won’t be the only ones, as the crowd has already invaded the field, and you doubt you’ll be able to get very close.

You still follow him. You alternate between clinging to his arm and to his shoulders so you don’t lose him, and trust him to elbow his way through the crowd. You hear him apologizing profusely in front of you, but he does not stop. Slowly, you make it down. Once you’re off the stairs, people are not as compactly gathered, and you can just walk between them. Jin grins at you, and you give him a thumbs up. Yeah, he did good here. You can give him that.

“Hey, Jungkook!” he calls out.

Jungkook was talking with some girls, but he looks up at the sound of his name, excuses himself, and jogs towards the two of you.

And it is then, in the few seconds it takes him to get to you, that it hits you. Like a ton of bricks.

You had known that Jungkook was objectively attractive, of course. There was no ignoring that. But Jin was objectively attractive, too, and that had never changed anything between the two of you. With Jungkook, right now, it does. His skin is glistening with sweat, and he wipes his chin with his shirt, and oh no, you can see his well-defined biceps and the line of his abs, and some hair is escaping from his ponytail, and he’s grinning with a happy, proud smile, and his eyes are shining and—

Jungkook is hot. That’s your realization. You had been aware of it, technically, but it’s like it only clicks for you at that exact moment.

“You came,” he tells you with a bright smile, and you can feel your entire face heating up. You pray that it’s not visible.

“Yeah,” you squeak out. “Great, um, great game?”

It sounds like an interrogation because you have no idea if it was one. It looked difficult, but maybe that was because they played terribly today. You don’t know that.

Jungkook’s smile widens a little, and you know that he has you all figured out. He knows you don’t understand the first thing about this whole thing.

“Thanks,” he still says.

His chest is still heaving quickly, and it draws your attention to his— his everything. The way he’s leaning towards you as he’s trying to catch his breath doesn’t help either. You wait for Jin to say something, to save you, but when you look around, you realize the traitor has abandoned you completely.

Okay, he hasn’t technically abandoned you, he’s just gone to congratulate Taehyung, but it’s the same difference.

You hear someone else calling Jungkook’s name before you’ve figured out what to say. He looks around, then gives you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I—”

“No problem, you should— I have to go anyway.”

This is not like you. You’re an awkward person, and you struggle in social situations, but you don’t usually trip over your words like that. You kind of hate it.

“Okay, so, um, I’ll see you…?”

“Wednesday, yeah. Or— before. At lunch. If you’re there.”

This is terrible.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you one last smile, and then he’s off, and you’re standing alone in the middle of a crowd. Your chest is heavy and it feels painful.

You hate this.

It’s only after that that you start realizing how big of a part Jungkook now plays in your life. He walks you home at night sometimes. You eat with him once or twice a week. You study together for an entire afternoon on Wednesdays. He’s just— everywhere. And it’s not that it’s a bad thing, because the feeling you get when you see him is a pleasant one, but it is disconcerting. It’s something that you have no control over whatsoever and that’s not— that’s not good for you.

You realize how much attention you were already paying to him, too, which is even more annoying. The signs were there. You should have understood this sooner. If you had, maybe you could have prevented it.

Because that’s the thing. You know the situation is ridiculous. You believe Jungkook sees you as a friend, and you’re happy with that, but there is no way he thinks of you as anything else. That is not an idea you should even begin to entertain. You can handle rejection, you’re used to it in so many aspects, though it’s rarely romantic, but you cannot take getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed.

The thing is, you can’t help it at this point, can’t force your feelings back in. There is so much to like about him. The way he plays with his hair, the quiet laughs when he’s in public, the loud ones when he’s walking you home, the sparkle in his eyes when he asks you a question in maths and it turns out he already had it right, the look on his face when he talks about basketball,… There’s so much.

You briefly consider avoiding him, but that’s not really an option. You like being his friend. You see your feelings as annoying, pesky little things that have no business being there in the first place. You don’t even hate the rush that goes through you when you see him, the way just looking at him brings a smile to your lips that you simply can’t hold back.

But you really, really hate the wishful thinking. The hope.

The feelings are fine, as long as you don’t think too hard about it. As long as he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Because that would break your heart.

And it’s only a matter of time before that happens.

You really considered declining when Jin asked you to come to this New Year’s party. Your last experience had effectively convinced you that those new parties he was getting invited to were not for you. That was fine, to each their own, but that did mean you didn’t really want to go. He clearly didn’t need you there anyway. You didn’t even know why he asked.

But he did, and he insisted, and he gave you his best puppy eyes, and that’s the thing about Jin: he’s very, very good at giving puppy eyes.

So that’s why you’re there, wearing a red dress that’s way too flashy for you, leaning against a wall and staring into the void. You feel empty and, though you’re not alone, lonely. You’re surrounded by strangers, and there are people everywhere in the house, but you don’t know them, and you can’t just start a conversation with them. It’s not something you do, it’s not even something you want.

You haven’t felt the urge to lock yourself inside a closet yet, though, so you guess that’s an improvement compared to last time.

Looking around, you can see Jimin, perched on the counter, listening to Yoongi talk with a smile on his face. Jin is somewhere else in the room and, though you can’t see him, you sometimes hear him, so you know he has his flirting voice on. Namjoon is nowhere to be seen, but that’s probably a good sign. He always get lucky at those parties. You don’t know how he does it. It’s impressive, honestly. Hoseok showed up earlier, and everyone greeted him like he was a star — which is kind of accurate, actually, at the campus’ scale.

You know, of course, that Jungkook and Taehyung, as inseparable as ever, are by the pool table. You also hate that you know it, because now your mind is constantly wondering if it’s weird that you haven’t been there yet, or if it would be weird to show up. Neither, probably, because exactly no one cares except for you, but you’re the master of torturing yourself with useless considerations.

God, you hate having a crush. It’s just so— unpractical. You also hate that you didn’t see that one coming, and that you didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. Usually, you’re pretty good at nipping those kinds of feelings in the bud. Now, you can only wait it out.

With a sigh, you push yourself away from the wall to wander aimlessly around the house. You promised Jin you’d stay until midnight, and you intend to keep that promise. It’s not like there’s anything for you to do, but still, that way you can look like you’re doing something and look a little less weird. Or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

Passing in front of the room with the pool table, you realize that Jungkook is gone. Taehyung is still there, playing with Hoseok, both looking pretty wasted, but Jungkook has vanished. That’s not good. You don’t want him to spring up on you out of nowhere like he did last time. You won’t know how to react if that happens, probably fumble for words, and it will be very unpleasant and very embarrassing for everyone.

You consider finding another closet, then decides against it. There’s just fifteen minutes left until midnight, anyway. That’s not too long. You can just wait it out.

You slowly make your way through the house. No sign of Jungkook anywhere. Maybe he left. Maybe he’s already back to the pool table and you missed him completely. Maybe he’s locked himself in a room with a girl and—

Oh you hate this. You hate feeling jealous. You hate that you have no control over it, you hate that it makes you sad, you hate that you have no right to feel like that. Jungkook isn’t yours. He’s probably even considered you for anything. You should consider yourself lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place.

You do your best to push everything out of your mind. Alcohol has never looked more tempting, but you don’t want the hangover with the morning, so you ignore the inviting bottles of beer and walk out.

It’s freezing — of course it’s freezing, it’s December you idiot, is there anything you can do right tonight — and you shiver, but you stay there. The cold is both numbing and soothing, and while you’re mentally complaining about it, you’re not thinking about anything else, so that’s good.

The door opens and closes behind you, and you guess someone is coming out to smoke. You move over to give them some space, but just as you do that, a jacket falls over your shoulders. You jump at first, and then the warmth makes you sigh in relief.

“You shouldn’t go out without a coat,” Jungkook says, because of course it’s him.

“I feel that you’ve been scolding me a lot recently,” you chuckle, glancing up at him.

He pouts, buries his hands in his pockets. He’s obviously cold as well, but at least his shirt covers his arms.

It also hugs his muscles real nice, but that’s besides the point.

“That’s because you make very poor decisions,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “You have to realize that.”

“You’re right. I could have taken my coat outside.”

“You know that walking back all alone in the middle of the night is way worse,” he protests, and then you laugh, because that’s exactly what you wanted, and he goes quiet for a second. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles, looking away from you again.

“I’m not,” you say, and you take a step in his direction so you can bump your shoulder against his. “You shouldn’t worry that much, but I think it’s nice that you do. I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“That worked really well,” he says, and he sounds surprised about it. You wonder if it’s because he usually doesn’t get angry for stuff, but you can’t tell for sure. “Hey, you—”

People start shouting numbers inside, and you turn around to look at them.

“It’s midnight,” you say.

“Five!”

You look up at Jungkook. He’s significantly taller than you. Not as much as Namjoon, but still.

“Four!”

Jungkook looks back at you, smiles, and it takes your breath away. His hair looks very good like that, you think absent-mindedly, with the way it falls on either side of his face.

“Three!”

It’s too late to go back inside now. It would definitely be a weird thing to do. Which means you’re here, alone, with Jungkook.

“Two!”

Your eyes flicker to his lips. You wonder what it would be like to kiss them. You haven’t let yourself even consider it before, but right now your brain isn’t functioning all that well. Probably because of how loud your heart is beating in your chest.

“One!”

You look back up and his eyes are wide and focused on you. There’s that same tension in his shoulders as when you first met him, except, back then, he couldn’t look at you, and now it seems that he can’t look away.

“Happy new year!”

You decide you shouldn’t think about your next move. You get on your tiptoes to plant a kiss at the corner of his lips, right at the border between friends and something else, but he leans forward right at that moment, and his hands cup your face, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s like an explosion. You don’t know what you should focus on. How warm he is, how soft and large his hands are, how his lips move against yours, how he tastes, or simply the fact that he’s kissing you, Jungkook is kissing you!

The door slams open, and the two of you move away in a jump.

“Happy new year Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, obviously drunk, soon joined by several other members of the basketball team. If he’s seen what happened, he doesn’t say anything, and you doubt Taehyung would have that kind of control over himself.

Soon, Jungkook is surrounded and they start to drag him back inside. He gives you a brief, apologetic look, then follows them, laughing. You remain there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You take a hesitant step towards the door, only to see a girl planting kisses on his cheeks while he blushes. What gets to you, though, is the arm he’s wrapped around her, the way he’s tracing circles on the naked skin of her shoulder. It makes the gesture look… intimate. Personal.

You let out a brief, bitter laugh, that there is fortunately no one to hear. You feel confused, but mostly, you feel stupid.

Fuck that.

It doesn’t take long for you to drop the jacket onto a chair and find your coat. You wish a happy new year to Namjoon, when you pass by him on your way out, and he looks a little surprised, like he hasn’t heard the shouting. You don’t want to know what he could have been up to.

You’ve kept your end of the bargain, you think as you leave. Jin won’t be able to complain to you. You feel some petty sort of satisfaction when you step outside and find yourself alone alone, finally. You like this. You like being alone. You’ve never asked for anything else.

You give one last look to the party, then vanish into the night. You’re better off on your own anyway.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming,” you say, nonchalantly, as everyone around the table is talking animatedly about a party for the next week-end.

You had hoped it would go unnoticed in the middle of the conversation, but, unfortunately, that doesn’t go as planned. Taehyung turns horrified eyes towards you, Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi all look surprised, and Jungkook… You don’t know how to read him. There’s that surprise, as well, but then he looks down before you can tell anything else. Not that that changes much. He’s barely looked at you today.

You haven’t talked to him since New Year’s Eve. You had other things on your mind, and then he didn’t show up at the library last Wednesday.

“What do you mean, you won’t be coming?” Jin asks. “You always come to parties.”

You shrug. You don’t miss the alarmed looks your friends are exchanging, and you’re sure Namjoon can see through you. Because it’s not like you to do something like that, whatever reason you may give.

“I don’t like them. They’re too loud, and I can’t say that I really enjoy standing alone for half the night.”

“You could stay with us,” Namjoon offers.

“And watch you pick up a girl every time? No thank you,” you reply with a disgusted shiver.

“You could stay with me,” Yoongi says.

You give him a look, and he grimaces, backing down immediately. Okay. He can see why you wouldn’t want that either. Plus he’s pretty sure that Jimin and him are about to get it on after weeks of flirting, so it’s probably not a great idea.

“What about me?” Jin asks. He doesn’t sound as energetic as usual, his voice almost quiet, and you realize that he probably feels bad because of what you said. He knows you come to those parties because of him, so knowing you don’t have fun at all when you’re attending — you understand that he might feel responsible.

“I think I would bore you very quickly,” you chuckle. “You’re not going to get the fun you want with me. But it’s fine, really. I tried it, and now I know it’s not for me. I can just—”

“No,” Taehyung says.

You blink.

“No?”

“I’m taking this personally,” he tells you, looking you dead in the eye. “You’re coming to this party and I’m going to make you enjoy yourself.”

You’ve never seen him so serious, and you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.

“Taehyung,” you say softly when you’re done. “I appreciate that, I do, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, then winces and closes it. You’re not sure what happened there, but he gives Jungkook an offended look.

“I’m sorry,” you add. “I’m sure your parties can be great, but—”

“I get it,” he sighs. “But you owe me.”

You’re not sure why, but fine.

“And you can’t say anything bad about those parties, to anyone. Ever.” In that moment, he looks almost threatening, and you blink, confused. He can’t possibly take it that seriously, can he?

Then he yelps and rubs his leg. He gives Jungkook another annoyed look, but Jungkook doesn’t even look up from his food.

“Leave her alone,” he just mumbles.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t add anything. He does give you a long, pointed glance, though, before muttering under his breath something that sounds a lot like “I won’t let that slander stand,” and you think that’s hilarious too.

When you risk a glance at Jungkook, his arms are folded over his chest, and he looks deep in thought. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes focused on his meal, though he’s not touching it. It’s stupid, but the image of a child that has just been scolded flashes in your mind.

“Jungkook? Is everything alright?”

He jumps at your question, looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes meet, but it’s extremely brief, and your chest tightens. This sucks. You thought the two of you had gotten past that now, and you hate that you lost what you had. It’s not like it’s your fault. He kissed you, and then he bailed on you first chance he got. Why would he do that, why would he risk it, if he was going to react like that afterwards?

“I’m fine,” he says with a tense smile, and you doubt it’s true, but you don’t know what you should ask him to confront him about it. You don’t want to talk about the kiss ever again. You certainly don’t want to do it in front of your friends.

So you jump on the first chance you get to leave the table. You don’t ask yourself if it’s a weird thing to do. It probably is, but fuck it, you’re weird, and everyone else can deal with it. You refuse to subject yourself to something unpleasant longer than absolutely necessary.

Except the looks you get are mostly concerned ones, from Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook does look up as you walk away, eyes following you almost longingly, and then he lets out a long sigh that catches Taehyung’s attention. He doesn’t say anything, but he narrows his eyes at him.

God. He really has to get everything done here, doesn’t he?

At first, you think that this is it. Your— your whatever it was that you had with Jungkook is over. You’ll see him around every now and then, and maybe he’ll give you a polite nod, though it doesn’t look like he would even do that right now, but there won’t be anything else. You’ll go back to being basically strangers, and it will be fine, because really, nothing happened there, right? You had a crush on him, he kissed you once, and then nothing. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

Sure, it makes you a little sad. Sure, you catch yourself looking at him while he’s surrounded by girls who are all so much better for him than you ever were, and it hurts a little. Sure, walking back home alone at night is a little more unpleasant than it used to be, but that’s the thing. It’s only a little. You would almost pat yourself on the back for it. Congrats, (Y/N). You made it out before you got too attached. You probably avoided a world of hurt.

Because you know. You know that if you had gotten in too deep, it would have hurt like hell to not have Jeon Jungkook. And sure, it hurts right now.

But only a little.

You’re good. You’re safe. You know that Namjoon and Yoongi would nod if you told them about it. They understand, in a way a lot of other people don’t. You don’t think that Jin would, for example. He would tell you to take the risk, not understanding that people like Jungkook used to pick you last for their teams when you were in high school, not understanding that as far as you’re concerned, you’ve handled more than enough rejection throughout your life. But Namjoon and Yoongi… They’re definitely more successful than you in matters of the heart, but they would still understand. Not that you’re going to tell them about it, because it’s a stupid story, because there never was anything there, and because you’d feel really dumb talking about how you thought, how you hoped that— You’re not going to tell them anything. At least everything’s okay now.

And then, Jungkook appears at your usual table at the library on a Wednesday afternoon. He drops his bag on the floor and takes a seat next to you. You’re surprised to see him when you look up, too focused on your studies to notice him approaching. He has big, wide doe eyes, and he watches your reaction carefully.

“You’re— This seat isn’t taken?”

You shake your head. No. People rarely come here, and you don’t really study with people. Well, didn’t, you suppose.

“Do you mind if I sit here?“

“The seat’s free. You can take it if you want.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to react. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You never considered that Jungkook would— That he would—

“I, um, I like studying with you. It helps me focus,” he says, eyes flickering away from you. “So, if you don’t mind I’ll— Can I come back here on Wednesdays?”

You want to tell him that you can’t stop him, that he can do whatever the hell he want, but even though it’s on the tip of your tongue, you don’t.

“Of course you can,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks up long enough to flash you a smile, and you know. This isn’t over, and you’re not going to be fine. You’re probably going to feel crushed, sooner than later, and you could have stopped it all right now.

You think about Yoongi and how not like him it is to be doing what he is with Jimin. How he’s taking a risk. How it could oh so easily not have paid off.

It’s going to, of course. You just need to look at Jimin’s eyes when he’s talking to Yoongi to know that. But Jungkook doesn’t look at you like that. Jungkook doesn’t look at you at all.

And yet here you are. Taking that exact same risk.

God. You can be so stupid some times.

Jungkook glances at you quickly while you’re deep in thought, tapping your pencil against your cheek, and a small smile forms on his lips. He’s quick to glance away, because he would hate it if you caught him, of course, but the smile doesn’t fade.

He couldn’t have forced it to do so if he tried.

“You have to come to the next game.”

“Taehyung, hey, nice to see you to, I’m doing fine, I—”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I know you hate basketball and everything that breathes, but—”

“I don’t hate you.”

“—this is really important and— Wait, really? Thank you. I feel that means a lot coming from you.”

“Is that how you see me? I don’t hate everyone, Taehyung.”

“Can you give me a list of people you don’t hate?”

“Well, you, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon…”

“Jungkook?”

“…Sure. Jungkook. Why do you want me to come to the next game?”

“Because we might lose.”

“And I’m supposed to change that how?”

“You owe me, remember?”

“I— Because of the parties? Seriously? I need to sit through hours of you guys running after a ball because I don’t like parties?”

“I would really appreciate it if you could avoid describing basketball as ‘guys running after a ball’.”

“I would really appreciate not having to go watch the game.”

“Don’t you want to support your friends on the team?”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be there. Just— stop that thing you’re doing with your eyebrows. Why are you even doing that?”

“You’re so slow. How are you so slow? I thought you were supposed to be smart!”

“Taehyung…”

“Just be there!”

“I will.”

“You better!”

“Or what, what will you— Taehyung! You can’t just run off like— Well. I guess he could.”

You hadn’t thought sitting through a basketball game could become a more painful experience to you than it already was. As it turns out, you were wrong. It was so much worse when the people you wanted to win were losing. Despite yourself, you found yourself getting invested, standing up and shouting encouragements along with Jin and Namjoon, and protesting loudly when things didn’t go your way.

You were not cut out for this. Not because you still didn’t understand half the rules — you could have by now if you had made the effort of memorizing them — but because of the stress. God, how did your friends handle that regularly? How did the players handle it? You kept looking at Jungkook. You could tell how unhappy he was with the situation, could see the disappointment settling in. He also seemed to get more nervous as time went by, which didn’t help his performance, and his words kept echoing in your mind.

”I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

You’re half way through the game and things are not looking good when Taehyung waves you over. You run to the railway, straining to hear him, and when you finally understand what he’s saying, you regret making any effort at all.

“You can’t possibly be serious!”

But he is.

“You owe me, (Y/N)!”

“I’m already— What’s it even going to do?”

“Trust me on that one, okay?”

You glare at him, but he’s looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes, and there’s nothing you can do against that. You sigh deeply. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest just thinking about what he’s asking you to do. Maybe it’s not such a big deal for him, that sort of stuff, but for you— For you it’s downright insane to even consider.

“Kim Taehyung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, “if this goes bad, I’ll kill you and plant your head on a stick outside of my door to warn my enemies not to underestimate me.”

He has the audacity to shrug at that.

“It won’t go bad.”

You look up. Take a deep breath. And call Jungkook’s name.

The gym is insanely loud, and it takes both you and Taehyung’s efforts, as well as a lot of waving, for Jungkook to notice you. When he does, though, he runs towards you, worry obvious on his face. He’s looking directly at you for once, and the intensity of his stare almost makes you shiver.

“Is everything alright?” he asks when he gets there, eyes scanning you quickly to make sure that you’re okay.

“It’s fine, I just—”

“What are you doing here? You hate basketball. Did something happen?”

You shake your head. You don’t know how you’re supposed to do this, especially when he’s looking so puzzled and when he’s questioning your sanity for showing up at one of his games. You glance over at Taehyung who gives you a decided nod.

Ah. Fuck it.

Leaning over about as far as you can go, you cup Jungkook’s face, and as his expression turns to one of surprise, you kiss him. If people around notice or have a reaction, you can’t tell, because Jungkook pushes himself against you and buries his hand in your hair as he holds you. There’s not much space left for thinking in your mind, instead entirely consumed by thoughts of him. He’s completely sober this time, and you don’t taste alcohol on his tongue. He’s also not going as slow, almost desperately kissing you back, one strong hand supporting you so you don’t fall over, and you just melt.

It takes everything in you to push yourself away. When you do, you’re breathless, and he’s staring at you with eyes even wider than usual. You’re pretty sure Taehyung would want you to give an encouraging speech right now, but you don’t want to do that right now.

“I really don’t care if you’re winning or losing games,” you say instead. “If you’re sad, I’ll be sad with you, but it’s never going to change anything in how I see you. But I’ll be here encouraging you.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight.

“Promise?” he asks, almost childishly.

You’re not sure which part he’s referring to, but they’re all true, so you nod.

“I promise.”

He smiles, and then both him and Taehyung are running back across the field and getting yelled at by their coach, but even from where you’re standing, you can see their smiles.

You guess that means you’re not going to murder Taehyung.

“This is actually insane. How is Jungkook even doing that?” Yoongi asks in disbelief after Jungkook scored extremely impressively yet again, and you fidget in your seat. You’re very happy to see that, though you don’t how you feel about the smug looks Taehyung is sending you, but you don’t want—

“It’s the power of love,” Jin says, nodding like he just gave an essential truth to the meaning of life.

—this. You, very specifically, don’t want this.

“Jin,” you sigh, “there’s no such thing as—”

“Actually,” Namjoon interrupts you, “I think he’s right. The power of love is a thing, and I think this is a perfect demonstration of it.”

You gape at him, in shock. He betrayed you?

“Did you just—”

“Namjoon’s right,” Yoongi nods. “This is how the power of love works. You take love, and you turn it into strength.”

And then, him, Jin and Namjoon high five, and you gasp. Traitors. All of them.

But after that, Jimin says off-handedly “Maybe you should come and kiss me before my next competition” and Yoongi’s brain visibly stops functioning, so you consider yourself avenged.

After the match, you wait for Jungkook outside of the locker room. Jin insisted you should go celebrate on the field, but you had declined. It felt like the situation required something a little more private, so now you’re here, leaning against the wall, looking at your phone so you’ll seem busy, even if there’s nothing on there to occupy yourself.

You’re not the only one there, and that doesn’t help soothing your nerves. There are a lot of girls, all pretty and smiling. It makes you feel like a groupie, and you don’t like it. You’re relieved for a second when the door opens and the team comes out, but it doesn’t last long, because the girls are soon surrounding them. You remain where you were standing, watching the whole thing happen. It takes a few moments before you notice Jungkook’s bun standing out of the group, and it makes you smile.

You catch Taehyung’s eye first, and, after you’ve sent him a glare that you hope was threatening, he pushes Jungkook out of the group. At first, he seems confused, before he finally finds you. You wave at him hesitantly. He blinks a few times, his eyes wide, then walks towards you.

“Hey,” he says when he joins you. He’s towering over you. Usually, you don’t like that, and you’ve complained about having to look up at Namjoon more than once, but you don’t necessarily mind right now.

“Hey,” you reply.

Silence stretches between the two of you as you try to think of something to say. You should have prepared a speech, you know that, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have been able to say it either.

“Taehyung told me he told you to kiss me,” Jungkook blurts out after a while, looking away from you, and you give him a surprised glance. “So, you don’t have to—”

“No, I wanted to kiss you,” you interrupt him, a puzzled frown forming on your face.

Jungkook’s head whips back towards you, and you just stare at him in confusion.

“Do you really think I would have kissed you just because Taehyung asked me to?”

“Well you— you came to the game because he asked you to, right?”

“That’s not the same—”

“Jungkook!” someone from the team calls. “We’re going to grab a bite to celebrate, do you wanna come?”

Jungkook sighs, then gives you a sharp look.

“You wanted to kiss me,” he repeats.

You nod.

“Why?”

You bite your lower lip, and you’re not oblivious to the way his eyes fall to your mouth when you do.

“And I’m the blunt one,” you mumble.

“Sorry, I–”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just— I wanted to kiss you because I like you. Obviously.”

Jungkook swallows, and you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looks over his shoulder at his friends.

“You can go without me!”

There are some protests, but he ignores them to give you his entire attention. It’s… not an unpleasant feeling.

“You disappeared after I kissed you the last time,” he says.

“You left,” you protest immediately. “You kissed me, and then the second your friends arrived, you acted like nothing happened and you left.”

“I didn’t want to— I just— They’re really annoying about that stuff, you know? I thought it would probably be better if I talked to you after— ‘m sorry. I didn’t— didn’t realize it—”

You look at Jungkook, watch him fumbling for words, and it hits you like a ton of bricks, how much you do like him. Those words really don’t do it justice, and maybe you’re not quite ready to talk about love just yet, but you like him so much, so much it makes your heart swell, so much you don’t think what what he’s trying to tell you would change anything to it, and yet what he’s trying to say is exactly what prompts your realization. He didn’t want to hurt you. Wanted this to be private, for just the two of you, wanted to see how you felt about it. And maybe he went the wrong way about it, but it means everything that he was trying.

“Walk me home?” you ask.

Jungkook finally stops his rambling.

“Are you sure?”

Of course, he has to ask that now, after weeks of trying to convince him to let you walk on your own. Still, you smile and nod, and when you start walking side by side, you grab his hand. He freezes temporarily before grinning and squeezing your hand, pulling it into his pocket so you won’t be too cold, because the air of January is chilling.

“Congratulations for the game,” you say after a long, comfortable silence. You had almost forgotten about it.

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I had some help.”

And then, he winks at you, and your heart misses a beat. That’s when you understand something you hadn’t even considered before: if Jungkook stops being shy around you, you’re done for. You’ll be the one constantly flustered.

“So,” you say, slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, “why did you kiss me?”

“Um. Same as you?” Jungkook’s confidence disappears, and he returns to his awkward self, and you see that, as much as you like it, you want him to be comfortable around you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask innocently.

He gives you a horrified look that soon turns to an offended one when he notices you grinning widely.

“You’re so mean,” he says, but he’s smiling too, “you’re the meanest person I know.”

You’re laughing at that point, as you stop in front of your dorm.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I kissed you because I like you.”

It’s funny. You knew that was what he was going to say, knew it was coming, and yet it gets to you all the same.

“With you, I don’t feel like I have to be the school’s star, you know? I can just be— Jungkook. You don’t expect me to be anything else.”

He’s right. You like Jungkook. With his insecurities and his flaws. You don’t want him to perform for you, and you don’t care what he’s doing right and wrong. Just studying maths in the library with him makes you happy.

He eyes your dorm and takes a deep breath.

“I should go,” he says.

You hum.

“Yes, it would be a really bad idea if you came up tonight.”

But you’re not letting go of his hand, and he’s close to you now, close enough that you can feel his breath catching in his throat. It makes you smile.

“You’re so mean,” he repeats.

This time, instead of laughing, you kiss him, and it’s completely different from the two previous times. There is no uncertainty in this kiss, no surprise, no pressure, no fear. It’s perfect. Jungkook’s hand comes to cup your cheek, his lips soft against your own. His long fingers gently stroke your jaw as he keeps the kiss chaste and sweet. It only makes you yearn for more and when he moves away, you can see in his eyes that he wants more as well.

You just don’t think he wants it now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” you ask.

“I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says solemnly, and it rings like a promise, which makes you smile.

When you move away, though, he doesn’t let go of you, and a pouty expression appears on his face before he releases you.

“I— Yeah. You should go.”

“You can come up if you want to, you know?”

He hesitates, rolls his lips together.

“I want to savor this,” he admits to you in a near whisper.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Yes. Good night.”

“Good night.”

You feel light and giddy as you walk through the door. It’s a nice and strange feeling, like you could just start floating any second.

You already can’t wait for the next day.

People are definitely weirded out by your relationship with Jungkook. Or, rather, by Jungkook’s relationship with you. You’re pretty sure most of the people who give you weird looks when you sit next to him and he wraps his arm around you, or when you walk hand in hand, wouldn’t pay attention to you if you went to class naked. But they all know who Jungkook is, and you guess it is weird to see you in conjunction with him.

They could ignore it and consider you mere part of the scenery when he ate with you, you suppose, but it is harder to do now. You’re not too fond of being the center of attention, to be honest. You don’t know how Jungkook does it.

What takes you by surprise the most is people being nice to you. That confuses you to no end, because you know for a fact they don’t care about you, not really, and you cannot fathom what they think they’re going to get out of this. You’re pretty sure there are a girl or two who are doing that to get closer to Jungkook, and some, you think, have decided to be nice to you because they think that if Jungkook likes you, you can’t be a total lost cause.

You don’t like that feeling. Not at all. You don’t like it when you’re going to class, you don’t like it during lunch, and you definitely, definitely do not like it when people rush towards you the second you get to a party.

Yeah, you’re giving Taehyung what he wanted, in the end. He said that both you and Jungkook owed him, because without him you wouldn’t be together, and you eventually gave in.

You thought it would be fine, now that you have someone to spend time with, but you understand with horror that your status has changed now. You’re not invisible anymore. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriendTM. Because of that, you spend much longer in the entrance making small talk than you would have wished to, and you’re stopped a couple of times while you’re desperately looking for your boyfriend to save you from this hell on earth.

You’re not surprised at all to find him playing beer pong with Taehyung and other guys from the team. He hasn’t gotten time to get drunk yet, so he’s quite impressive, but then again, they all are. That’s why they usually end up wasted.

The second he sees you, though, he abandons the game completely, and the smile on his face threatens to make your heart explode in your chest. Some of the guys turn around to look at you, give you a wave or a smile. Taehyung shouts a greeting.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips. He doesn’t like PDA all that much, but he never misses a chance to kiss you, and the thought makes you all giddy.

“Hey. Are you, um, having fun there?”

He shrugs.

“It’s not that bad. Wanna play?” He waits for your expression to turn to one of horror as you try to refuse politely before laughing. “Just kidding. Don’t worry about it.”

You let out a relieved breath. You know you and Jungkook are very different people, and you’re doing your best to take an interest in the things he likes. You’ve been learning the rules of basketball, for example, and though you still don’t believe you get the point, you like the way his eyes shine when you say something right about a game.

But you don’t take part in any of that stuff. Okay, you stop at that field that’s on your way home from the library every now and again, but that doesn’t count. It’s just you and him then, and you feel good and relaxed. You’ve even scored a couple of times now.

“Come on, I want to grab a drink,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, and you follow without protesting.

It’s probably your second mistake of the night: not realizing that getting a drink with and without Jungkook are two very different ordeals. On your way there, you get roped into several conversations. Those are fine. You can’t say you enjoy them, but they’re fine, and it’s not like those people are actually talking to you anyway.

What you genuinely dislike is that, when you’re by the table with the drinks, a girl starts openly flirting with your boyfriend. It’s not subtle, either, with the way she keeps touching his arm and how she laughs at his every word.

For a while, you just stare in disbelief. You know Jungkook is oblivious to that sort of things — probably one more reason why he likes how blunt you are — but you can’t believe her. You wouldn’t necessarily blame the girl for trying, either, if she didn’t know about you. Jungkook’s quite the catch after all, and you understand liking him better than anyone else.

No, it’s the fact that she’s doing it right in front of you, while Jungkook is holding your hand. It feels so— dismissive. So insulting. She’s not exactly saying to your face that she doesn’t take you seriously, but she might as well.

You watch incredulously when she puts her hand on his arm one more time. You don’t know how you’re supposed to handle that, so you just tug on Jungkook’s hand a little awkwardly. You’re pleased by how quickly his attention snaps to you, even while the girl is in the middle of her sentence. It’s a petty sentiment, for sure, but you can’t help it.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “Is it too loud in here?”

“Kind of, but—”

“Let’s find you a quieter place.”

He forgets about the drink he wanted to get, forgets about the girl, who he abandons there unceremoniously, gently pulling you through the room. Next thing you know, he’s carefully closing the doors of the closet he’s found for the two of you behind you.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied with himself. “Better?”

You chuckle at that and, guessing for him in the half-light, you pull him towards you for a kiss. You press your body against his, pushing him against the back of the closet, and a groan forms in his throat. His hands tighten around you, sending shivers through your entire being, and you only lean into him more. You run your fingers over his chest, just to feel him tremble under your touch and he does, hissing with pleasure at the contact.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth. “Was that— was that what you had in mind?”

You shake your head, and he’s close enough to feel it.

“That girl was flirting with you,” you tell him.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

You are.

“So… are you jealous? Because that’s kind of hot.”

You laugh softly. Truth is, you really, really don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, but Jungkook actually sounds happy about the idea.

“You really didn’t notice?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I didn’t. Does that— Did it bother you, that she was doing that?”

“Kind of,” you shrug. “What about you? You’re— cool with that?”

“If it bothers you I don’t like it,” he replies simply, one of his hand leaving your waist to grab yours and squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

That makes you chuckle.

“How didn’t you? She would have made it barely more obvious if she had started undressing herself.”

Jungkook has an awkward laugh, and you can feel his breath on your face. He starts fidgeting, but then you press a kiss right at the corner of his lips, and he calms down, if just a little.

“It’s— You have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

He hesitates a second longer, as though he’s trying to judge your sincerity by looking at you — except, of course, he can barely see a thing in here. You kiss him again, following his jaw, and he finally gives in when you start making your way down his neck.

“When I’m with you, it’s like my vision narrows on you,” he says, voice low. “I know everything and everyone else is still there, but I just think about you. Sorry, it’s really stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say, shaking your head, wondering if he can feel your heart beating stupidly fast in your chest, all because his words make you feel like nothing else ever has before. “But I’m— I’m kind of boring. That can’t be fun.”

“You’re not boring,” he protests. “You listen to people, even when you don’t look like it. You always look like you have a thousand things on your mind but you always make time for your friends, and when you’re studying here, you play with your hair.” He twirls a lock of your hair around one of his fingers before releasing it, as if to demonstrate. “You’re a very, very interesting person to look at.”

The only thing you can do is stay there, frozen in his arms, after he’s said that. You may be blunt, but Jungkook is honest. Devastatingly so. His vulnerability always shatters the walls that you’ve built around yourself, and you still don’t know how to react when that happens.

So you push yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again, except this time it’s slow and gentle and you’re trying to put everything he means to you into it. The tip of your fingers are on his cheeks, your mouth barely moving against his, soft noises filling the closet. Jungkook remains still, letting you in complete control, like he’s afraid he could break you if he moved.

“Thank you,” you whisper when you pull away from him.

“For what?” he asks, breathless.

“For being here with me tonight, and for coming with me at that first party.”

“Of course. Any time.”

He lets himself fall to the floor, taking you down with him and keeping you into his lap once he’s done that. You rest your head against his chest. You hear the noises of the party still going on outside, but Jungkook is your island of peace in the middle of the chaos.

“I think I’m going to stop basketball,” Jungkook blurts out without a warning, and you look at him, surprised.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Really. I just— I don’t want to be doing that anymore.”

You think about it for a few seconds, then nod.

“You probably should stop, in that case.”

“People are… not going to be happy about it.”

“I’m sure Taehyung won’t be mad at you. Well, not for too long.”

He laughs softly, but his hold on you doesn’t relax, and you know that this was hard for him to even consider. You know it’s a terrifying decision to take, too.

“Thank you,” he says. “For being here with me tonight, too.”

“Any time.”

The truth is, you wouldn’t give that moment away for anything in the world, and something tells you Jungkook wouldn’t either. It’s not ideal, it’s not perfect, but you don’t believe there is such a thing, and you’re happy to satisfy yourself with the imperfect.

But any moment you can spend in Jungkook is as close to perfect as can be.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, and you think that he might feels the same way, which almost makes you burst with happiness.

“And I love you,” you whisper back.

Not perfect, perhaps. But close enough.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hi! I saw prompt #196 and damn, I couldn't stop thinking about Andy 🥴

I hope this isn't too out there hahaha.

Work It Out

Warnings: implied noncon, cheating, two faced Andy

You hate everything. It feels like no matter what you do, you can't win. You're starving, you're sore, and exhausted. And the scale hasn't ticked a single number down. You were trying everything those fad diets and fitness guides told you. You just couldn't seem to shed the extra pounds.

Your days at the gym grew no less uncomfortable as you look around and see enviable bodies, younger, older, all of the above. Every body that wasn't yours.

You turn up the belt until you're jogging, almost too fast until you're sure you'll fall on your face. You try to meter your pants and keep from hanging your mouth open, instead puffing through your nose. 

You wipe your forehead and feel a trickle of sweat on your lip as you brace the metal handbars and keep your feet moving. You bat away droplets with your lashes and flick away that on your lip with your tongue. You shakily pull on your shirt to air out the dampness and nearly stumble.

“Did you just look me up and down and bite your lip?" The deep voice startles you and you clasp tightly to the machines as your soles crash down clumsily, "Cause if you did, we’re having sex right now.”

You saw the man every day as you went to the same treadmill. You would guess he's 40, maybe older, and in peak shape for one half his age. He leans an elbow on your machine as you gape at him and stammer at how he arches a brow. Your grip slips and you go hurtling back as you fall to your knees and fly off the back of the machine.

"Oh shit," you hear him as you catch yourself on your hands and gasp for air, muscles shaking, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break your concentration."

You hear a beep and the belt stills before he nears you. He kneels down and touches your shoulder as you lift your head.

"I think… um, I misread the situation, I thought you were looking at me," he chuckles nervously, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you sit back on your heels and rub your hip, "just mortified."

"I really didn't…" he pauses and drops his hand from your shoulder, "wow, I should be embarrassed. These last two weeks I thought… well I thought you were looking at me and, geez, that guy on the lift machine must have thought I was winking at him."

"I don't know--" you touch your chest as you catch your breath, "what?"

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he shrugs and stands up, offering his hand, "get a bit carried away watching you… that sounds weird, I'm sorry."

You take his hand and let him pull you up. You nod and smile awkwardly. "I'm flattered," you say thinly, "but… what would your wife think?"

You let go of his hand and look pointedly at his ring. He gives a tight-lipped smile and sucks his teeth, "separated… I just, uh, feel naked without it."

"Oh, sorry," you cringe, "that sounds, uh, complicated."

"Not really, just had to go to a new gym so I didn't see her with the other man," he scoffs, "that's too much information, huh?"

"You know, you just watched me land on my ass, I wouldn't worry about it," you wave him off, "but uh…" you try not to let your eyes drift but they do. He's fit and fine and you can't imagine any woman cheating on him but that ring was a problem, "look, I do mean it, it's flattering but I'd rather wait until you can take the ring off. It's… not something I wanna step in, you know?"

"Makes sense," his smile fell, "so…" he wiggles the ring off and tucks it into his pocket.

"Um," you look around but no one else seems to notice you or the man.

"Oh uh that was just an awful line," he shakes his head, "we can start with drinks."

You squint at him and bite your lip. His eyes follow and you make yourself stop.

"That's so hot," he says, "you sure you weren't looking at me?"

"You sure you were looking at me?" You counter, "uh, a drink sounds… fine but I might stick to water, as you saw I'm not great on my feet."

"Sure, I gotta finish my cool down but do you know The Frog?"

"Yeah, just down the block," you fill in.

"I'll be there at…" he checks his apple watch, "seven? Can I expect you?"

"Mhmmm," you nod nervously, half disbelieving and half humiliated.

"Andy," he offers his name and his hand. You shake it and give your own. 

He winks and you try to hold a smile. You watch him go back to the weight bench before you retrieve your water bottle and retreat. You could hit the shower before the bsr and at least save a little face.

💪

You walk into the bar before you can lose your nerve. You look around in the dim light, certain this is a cruel trick. That man could not be interested in you. Even if he was halfway a divorce, it was too good to be true. You won't be surprised if you're stood up.

"Hey," you see the wave of the hand and hear the half shout. 

You let out your breath and cross to the tall table in the corner. You smile and climb up on the stool across from Andy. He returns the gesture and looks over as a server approaches.

"Are we finally ready?" She asks sweetly.

"Stella," he orders and nods at you. You order a diet coke and the server smiles at Andy before she walks away. 

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you say. 

"Nope," he says coolly, "you know, one drink couldn't hurt. It might ease the sting a little from earlier too."

"Hmm," you grin sheepishly, "there's not enough gin in the world for that."

"Oh, a gin girl, I'll keep that in mind," he smirks, "so how was the rest of your work out?"

"A work out," you scoff, "I thought exercise was supposed to be relaxing."

"Certain kinds are more effective," he lifts a brow and you roll your eyes at the flirty remark.

"Wow, you're such a cheeseball," you giggle.

"I'll take it," he says, "I usually get meatball, all brawn no brain."

"That's yet to be determined," you jibe and sit back as the server returns with your drinks and you thank her. 

"No pressure," he says dryly, "none at all."

You laugh again. This Is easier than you expect. You've never been the smoothest and he was probably the best looking guy you ever talked to. No guy with his eyes and his jawline saw you past the skinny blondes and stunning insta models.

You lose track of time and finish your drink. You excuse yourself to the bathroom and only then realise how Andy's progressively shifted his stool around so he's right beside you. You need to take a breath. 

You feel lighter when you come out from the bathroom and pass another woman on her way in. You slow as you get to the bar as you find Andy with his phone to his ear. You near quietly, hoping not to disturb his call.

"No, I'm still at the office," he says, "yeah… no I forgot to grab the dry cleaning, Laurie. Tomorrow, okay? Right, bye, hon."

He hangs up and you realise he's lying to the woman on the phone and you. You brush by his seat and grab your purse from the back of the chair where you slung it.  He flinches as you pull out your wallet.

"So Laurie, that your wife?" You pick through your bills, "doesn't sound like you're separated."

"Woah, come on, let me explain," he tries to push your wallet away and you toss a five on the table, the tip would be as much as the drink itself.

"Explain what?" You rolls your eyes and scowl, "I'm so stupid."

You storm away and hear him shuffle before his stool wobbles and his steps follow you out into the night. He catches your arm and pulls you back before you can hail a cab.

"Look, I…" he drops his head, "we may as well be separated okay? She hasn't touched me in over a year, I sleep on the couch in my office… all we do is fight."

"So? Either get counselling or cut ties, but I'm not fucking with a married man--"

"I… I'm waiting until my son goes to college," he says desperately as you shrug him off.

"And in the meantime what? You pick up fat girls at the gym to fill the void--"

"You're the only girl--"

"Besides your wife," you spit, "wow, I feel special."

You turn and try to raise your hand. It's caught in mid air and you're pulled back by the back of your shirt. You look around but you're too far down for the bouncer to see you and there's no one else passing by. 

Andy's thick arm snakes around your neck and his bicep pushes your chin up. He drags you around the corner and forces you toward an SUV. You bring your feet up and hit the side with your soles.

"The fuck?"

"Please, don't act like I'm not doing you a favour, honey," he gropes your ass as you struggle with him.

"Get off," you grunt as his hand slips over your hip and he turns you as he rips the door open. 

"Shhh," he pushes you up into the back seat and you slip down on the floor.

You push yourself up and huff on your stomach. You reach to the other door as he climbs in behind you and the doors click as you grab the handle. He straddles your ass as his hand covers your mouth and he bends over you. 

He presses his cheek to your temple and hushes you again. You see the shadows of pedestrians and their voices as they pass just outside. You murmur into his palm and claw at the door helplessly. Their steps fade into the distance as Andy grinds his crotch against your ass.

"Honey," he growls through his teeth, "I know you were looking at me…"

[brandyllyn]

Frontier Eleven

👾 v 🐈

Co-written by @brandyllyn​ and @blueeyesatnight​

Rated: Mature for language and FUCKING ALIENS MAN.

Part Ten 👾Part Eleven Series Masterlist

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Location: Trying to Escape the Remains of Acheron Colony in the Cold Dread of Space

So there was an alien in the ship.

A big ol’ bitch too.

This was not a Diet Alien, it was not the little shrimp shit Tom got to deal with…

This had problem written all over it.

Benny sees his brother, strapped to the table, and looks at the alien and gets between them.

Frankie has his leveraging rod and Pope is reaching for things near him but Benny is just by band-aids and air.

“That look like that bitch who was trying to mate with Will?” Santi asks as he watches Benny shift Will’s table slightly, pressing a pipe into his hands.

“Trying to what?” Frankie gasps.

“Didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

“Benny says it’s a Queen,” Santi points out, trying to get the thing’s attention, “Ironhead coulda been a prince.”

Benny takes the distraction to get close to the alien, squares up, and swings.

As soon as his fist connects with her exoskeleton he is howling at the crunchy sound it makes.

The alien is unaffected.

“I fucking told you Benny!” Santiago hisses, armed with a can of rations and a wrench.

Benny shakes his hand out, wraps it hastily in some of the bandages left over from Will, and grabs a fire extinguisher, “Come on ugly bitch, get some”

He squeezes the extinguisher at her as she lunges, chasing him and following him away from his brother.

The smoke does seem to temporarily disorient her and Pope pings her with a can of spam.

Frankie takes a step forward and swings for the fences but that exoskeleton really was a bitch and the vibrations of it against the rod rattled his teeth and numbed his hands.

He was nervous.

What were they going to do?

The tail swept out and nearly took him out.

Fuck.

He would’ve taken directions from fucking Tom right about now.

Pope connects to the smaller more vulnerable part of the alien’s tail with his wrench and then pegs her with another can (peas, this time)

The alien bats it off. Like it’s a fly. Like it’s annoying her.

Benny tries to bash her eye in with the extinguisher.

She nearly claws his stomach open.

“Guys I don’t think the smash and grab technique is really doing much for us.” Will snaps, struggling to free himself from the table’s restraints. If he’s going to die, he wants to die on his feet.

“Do you have any better ideas?!” Frankie snarls.

The Queen turns her attention on him and advances, cornering him and he chokes up on his leveraging rod, prepared to swing for her jaw this time.

He’s not hopeful it’ll do much but he’d rather go down swinging.

Then the maintenance bay doors open.

A loud metallic thudding sound echoes.

They all turn their heads to see what the hell is making that sound.

It’s a mech suit… an autonomous mech suit?

“Get your hands off my dad, you bitch!” Ripley’s voice pipes out of the air and suddenly they realize they can just see the top of her head.

“Language young lady!” Frankie shouts.

The Queen advances on Ripley who lets out a war cry and tries to move the Mech Suit forward.

It’s not easy, she has a shit line of sight and it moves very herky-jerky because she can’t wrap her little hands around the controls fully but…

There’s something to be said for raw nerve and willpower which she has in spades. She is just mad and she’s over this and she is slapping at the creature with her metallic arms until the two of them are locked and…

Jesus, Rip has the upper hand.

Ripley has the queen in her mechanized hands. The boys can only look on in wonder.

As though he is amused the AI chirps “Not bad...for a human.”

Benny is hooting, “GET ‘ER RIPPLES!”

She shoves the monster towards the airlock. “Dad! Get the door!”

The AI function comes online “Opening the door may cause you to get sucked out of the ship and die.”

“SHUT UP TIN MAN”

Frankie runs but the queen’s tail knocks him back. No one can get close. The alien is too large and too angry and even though she is kicking ass little Rip is tiny in the mech suit and she won’t be able to hold this thing down forever.

They really need some help.

“DIN! THE DOOR!”

“My creed won’t let me intentionally cause harm to the humans on the ship.”

“CHRIST!”

With a yawn and a stretch Jonesy gives a small kitty frown to the ruckus around him. With a twitch of his tail he jumps onto the workstation near the door lock the one with the manual controls. Turning in one cat circle he lays down on what he deemed to be a very comfortable, and hopefully quiet, spot.

Directly on the airlock button.

A loud whir echoes in the bay and suddenly the men find themselves lifted off their feet in the rush of escaping air.

Will strains against his bandages

Benny grabs onto the leg of Will’s bed.

Frankie reaches out and grabs a doorframe and then holds out his leveraging rod for Santi to grasp

Ripley walks the mech suit towards the airlock and releases the screaming alien into it with what could only be described as a war-face on.

"THAT'S A GOOD PUSSY!" Benny cheers, reaching out and catching a belligerent Jonesy by the tail as he goes skidding by.

"LANGUAGE BEN!" Fish snips. “DIN CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR.”

Everyone is dropped down by the change in pressure and hits the floor, everyone except Ripley who is still in the large Mech suit.

After a tense moment everyone laughs a little.

The AI beeps, “We have a weight des--”

“I KNOW!” Frankie calls out, “Can you do a search for life forms? I want to see five humans and a cat.”

A beeping, “Confirmed. I see five humans and a cat.”

Some nervous laughter.

“So...what’s next?” Benny asks, apologizing and cooing at a very disgruntled Jonesy.

Will reaches down to pat his head, “I dunno...campfire and s’mores?”

“Nah...pizza?”

“Roshambo?”

“Fuck off.”

“Benjamin.” Fish hisses, “Language.”

Ripley hops out of the mech suit, smiling from ear to ear, “Dad...it’s ok.”

Frankie runs a tired hand down his face, “How about I get us into hyper and we all tuck in?”

Inside the cryo room one of the pods is broke apart, it has junk all over it. Frankie shrugs, “Looks like you and me are bunking Ripples.”

She hugs the cat, “What about Jonesy?”

Benny holds out his hands, “I’ll take care of him kiddo.”

It was a process, but a normal one. One by one the pods went down-- first Will, then Pope, then Benny, and Frankie pushed the sequence for him and Ripley last.

As the sedative was starting to hit them they nuzzled against one another, relieved. So relieved.

They had no idea how this all worked out but it had and that was amazing.

Sure they weren’t going to get the grand payday from WeyYu but who cared.

Frankie had the most important thing.

As they settled in to dream in their pods the ship got quiet.

Very quiet.

A red light came on in the cockpit and a low male voice said, “We have a weight discrepancy.”

In the shadows of the cryo chamber, an egg began to wiggle and unfurl.

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@absurdthirst @codenamewife @phoenixhalliwell @radiowallet @amneris21 @boliv_jenta @kirsteng42​ @chickadee-djarin​ @leannawithacapitala​ @magikfanatic​ @hopeamarsu​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @eri16​ @kesskirata​ @prideandpascal​ @mindidjarin​ @ladylothlorien​ @recklessfangirl-blog​ @the-feckless-wonder​ @fictionalbitch​ @aellynera​ @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage​ @thirdtimesthecharm​ @wildmoonflower​ @thelegendary-nico @sixshooter665​ @cyaredindjarin​ @practicalghost​ @mishasminion360​ @fantasticcopeaglepasta​ @221bshrlocked​

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [2] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, angst, age gap, Negan, a bit of gore if you squint

A/N: ok so everything is written i'm just gonna stagger posting a little bit :') 2.7k words

The first thing I woke up to in the morning was a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Great. My heat was starting up again. Growing up, Bee always asked why I never went on suppressants. I always got a bad vibe from them. Then, a few years ago, a large brand got recalled because it was shown to cause cancer in a lot of different patients. Now suppressants were harder to come by, more regulated, and needed a doctor's prescription. A lot of omegas took the hit hard, but out of it came an influx of at-home ways to take care of your heats by yourself. Super helpful for a single girl like me. When my heats started to get really bad around my junior year of high school, Bee took me out on a shopping spree and got me a bunch of toys to try and satisfy myself. It worked for a while, but they got worse as the years passed. By my age, a lot of omegas were already claimed and had an alpha to help them through their heats. I was still relying on the toys Bee had bought me. The box was tucked neatly under my bed, waiting for me. I rolled over with a small groan and sighed. The heat wouldn't be in full swing for another few days or so, so I could still go to the courthouse with my dad. Speaking of, I heard Rick shuffling down the hall and slid out of bed, gathering my bathroom stuff and walking out of my room into the small tiled room to start the day.

~~~

"So you weren't at the garage on the night of the eight?" Negan hummed, leaning against the railing in front of the tv. His eyes were glued to the face of the man sitting on the stand. The poor guy was drenched in a nervous sweat, tight blue shirt sucking at his chubby neck. He swallowed thickly and leaned forward to the microphone.

"That's correct," he croaked.

"Oh, Jeremy," Negan chuckled, shaking his head and looking at his feet. "Don't you know perjury is a criminal offense?"

"I-I'm not lying!"

"Is that so?" The alpha held up the remote to the TV "I have some footage here that directly contradicts your story, man. One last chance." He wiggled the remote teasingly and raised his eyebrows. Jeremy held his ground. "Alrighty then, let's see what we have here." He took a step back and furrowed his brow at the remote and pressed a button. The screen in front of him came to life. I had to lean forward in order to see the video, but in reality it wasn't the security tape I was watching. It was him. I couldn't look away. He had dominated the room for the past hour and a half. His deep voice was never raised, but it still carried a commanding tone that had every person sitting on the stand shaking in their boots. My eyes trailed down his body. His suit clung to him in every perfect way. His hair was slicked back in its iconic style and the way his glasses perched on his face made my insides burn. Part of me regretted seeing him like this so close to my heat, but another part couldn't imagine if I hadn't. Rick leaned over and tapped my elbow.

"We've got him now for sure." He whispered in my ear. A smile formed on my lips as I nodded to him. There was a child-like joy on his face. He really did appreciate my presence. I turned my attention back to the video screen. The footage was fuzzy, but there was a clear figure of a woman standing still hunched over what I presumed was her phone. She was texting away, fingers flying over her screen. Suddenly a large figure, who had the same height and build as Jeremy, slunk out from the shadows. He slowly approached the woman from behind and raised a crowbar high above his head. He swung it down with brutal force. There were small gasps of horror from the jury and the crowd as the crowbar connected solidly with the woman's head. She collapsed in a heap, but Jeremy didn't stop beating her until she was a pile of mush. Negan clicked the TV off.

"Well, shit, Jeremy," He boomed "I do in fact think you are lyin' to me." He tossed the remote down on his table top and gave a grim scoff. "Everyone just saw you turn poor Miss Parker's head into your personal punching bag. You still wanna claim you were no where near there?" All of the color had drained from Jeremy's round face. He swallowed again, tugging at his restricting collar. But soon, his face turned a deep shade of pink and he slammed his beefy palms on the flat surface of the box he was sitting in.

"That bitch deserved it!" He howled, gasping for air. "She had no business-" He stopped when Negan raised his hand silently.

"I really don't care," He sighed, turning around and grinning broadly when he saw the defense team resting their heads in their hands in defeat. "I'll let the jury do the rest, your honor."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Smith." The judge said, voice prickling with annoyance. Negan returned to his bench and pulled out his seat. But before he sat down he gave Rick a small thumbs up. And I could have sworn that he flashed me a little smile as well.

~~~

"You were incredible in there!" I cheered, giving Negan a high five. The contact made my skin tingle, but I passed it off as the consequences of the impact. "You really made that guy tremble like a kid!"

"It's what I do," Negan chuckled deeply. He looked around me and furrowed his brow. "Where's your dad?"

"He's pulling the car around," I said "I just figured I should let you know how good you did before I leave." He was so close. He smelled so good. The same combination of whiskey and campfire that could get me drunk in a few breaths. I was so focused on his intoxicating musk that I didn't notice the group of alphas that were headed our way. Negan did, though. I heard a rumbling from his chest and felt a hand clasp around my shoulder. Confusion clouded my mind and I looked up to him for some answers.

"The next case is starting soon," He said smoothly "Let's go wait for your dad outside." I agreed and he steered me out onto the steps of the courthouse. The short skirt and heels I was wearing weren't exactly comfortable for walking down stairs, so I held onto Negan's forearm as he guided me down to street level. There was a small breeze and I saw his jaw tense as a soft gust of wind swirled up from behind me and into his body. It no doubt carried my scent on it, and an alpha like Negan could probably tell what state I was in.

"So," I sighed, looking to engage him further "What's next?"

"Well," He tilted his head and ran a hand over his bear-covered chin. "Jeremy goes to jail. Your dad and the department get praise. And I get to go to the bar for a celebratory drink." He paused for a moment, looking me up and down quickly. "You want to join me?" I opened my mouth to say something. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I was going to say. I didn't really drink, but I was willing to do absolutely anything that Negan wanted. But it was then that Rick rounded the corner and gave the horn a little honk.

"I would love to," I settled on "But dad has a full day of father-daughter fun times planned, and I don't really want to keep him waiting." I gestured awkwardly to where Rick was sitting in the car, bopping his head gently to incoherent music.

"Totally understand, doll." He grinned.

"Maybe another time, though?"

"For sure."

"See you around, Negan."

"Bye, doll, have fun. And be safe"

~~~

Negan was pleasantly buzzed, as per usual. He got off his motorcycle and hung his helmet on the handlebar before lightly stumbling into the house from the dark garage. The sight he saw he did not expect. There sat his fiancé in the living room, arms crossed over her chest with a pissed expression on her face. And beside her was a woman he knew all too well.

"The hell is goin' on here?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.

"I could ask you the same thing, Negan."

"Lucille, what the fuck is she doing in our house?"

"Oh, so you know her?" Lucille growled. Negan just licked his lips and flicked his gaze between the two women sitting in front of him. "Of course you do. You have been fucking her after all." Negan groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby, please-" He started, but Lucille cut him off.

"Don't you dare," She hissed, jumping to her feet and balling her hands into fists "You don't get to call me that after what you've done, Negan. You slept with another woman. Hell, maybe more than one. You ruined our relationship." Negan took a step forward but Lucille raised her hand and pointed to the kitchen table. "Don't take another step. Your stuff is in that box." Negan looked to see a cardboard box sitting alone in the dark kitchen, his belongings poking out of the top. "I never want to see you in my house again."

"Lucille, can't we just talk about this? You don't understand." He pleased, extending a hand to her. She batted it away.

"There's nothing to talk about." She spat "You cheated on me, Negan! What is there to understand? How can you expect me to forgive you for that?" A moment of silence passed between them. The other woman shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Negan glared at her before turning his eyes back to his now ex-fiancé.

"I have no where to stay." He whispered.

"That's not my problem." Lucille said boldly "Take your shit and leave. Don't come back. We're done."

~~~

I stirred the pot of spaghetti while humming a song I heard on a radio earlier. The father-daughter activities had consisted of driving around town and revisiting old spots we used to go to when I was younger. We got ice cream at the shop down the street and then watched the sun set at the park that we used to picnic at. It was nice. College did really fix our relationship. The TV in the next room hummed quietly and Rick was talking on the phone with someone. I heard him hang up and walk into the kitchen.

"Think there's enough in there for three?" He asks with a sigh, looking over my shoulder.

"Should be, why?" I return, meeting his gaze. He takes a deep breath and scratches his neck.

"Um, well, Negan's fiancé kicked him out of the house. Apparently she found out he was cheating on her. He doesn't have anywhere to stay." He mumbled "He's gonna be sleeping here for a bit." I stopped stirring. The water started to bubble too close to the top, but I blew a gust of air to push it down.

"Why here?" was all I could muster.

"He really helped me with your mom. It's the least I can do."

I just hummed in acknowledgement and returned to my cooking. So Negan was engaged. And he CHEATED on his fiancé? Maybe I didn't know Negan as well as I thought I did...

~~~

"I just can't believe she kicked me out!" Negan seethed, shoveling a spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth. He was still chewing when he continued. "She didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!"

"I hate to say it, but you did cheat on her, buddy," Rick said carefully, not wanting to poke the angry alpha in the wrong way "She's upset."

"I was in a rut." Negan growled.

"For four months?"

I was making a plate for myself, listening to the conversation from across the room. Rick's phone buzzed on the kitchen table and he picked it up.

"Sorry, I have to take this." He sighed, shaking his head and standing to his feet. He left the room and suddenly it was just me and Negan. I took my plate to the opposite head of the table, watching Negan wolf down his dinner.

"This shit is really good, sweetheart," He groaned. Normally, the noise would have sent me over the moon. But there were so many other emotions clouding my mind. "You ever consider changing your major to culinary arts?" I didn't say anything, just twirled my fork in my serving of pasta.

"Why'd you do it?" I said quietly, almost in a whisper. Negan paused instantly.

"What?"

"Why'd you cheat on her?" My eyes never left my plate but I could hear him shifting in his seat, rubbing his face while trying to answer my question.

"I don't know," He said. His voice was soft, sincere. Something I had never heard from him before. My eyes drifted up and met his. They were the same tawny color, but there was something else behind them. Something I couldn't distinguish. "I thought...Something was off in our relationship. I guess I thought that I could fix it by trying something different. I ran into Tanya at a bar a few months ago. She's a beta, just like Lucille. Wanted to be with an alpha. I gave in. Just for a quick fuck, didn't mean anything. I didn't like her. I told her that but...she...she wanted more, I guess. She fucking threatened me. Threatened to ruin my life unless I kept seeing her. I chose to do it. I don't know if that decision was the right one or not but it's the one I made. I texted her last night to tell her it was over. Never fucking thought she would come to my home." I was chewing the inside of my cheek the whole time he was speaking. I didn't know how much of his story was true, but he sounded like he was hurting.

"Why did you break it off?" I whispered.

"That's your damn question?" He scoffed, giving a short smile. He looked in my eyes. I knew the answer. Or at least I thought I did. He opened his mouth, but Rick reentered the room before he could say anything.

"Alright, sorry about that guys," He said, slipping back into his seat. "What did I miss?"

~~~

Negan was set up in the bedroom next door to mine. Our doors faced each other from across the hall. We would have to share a bathroom. Rick didn't seem to have a problem with it, but with my heat starting I wasn't too sure about the whole arrangement. I felt more cramps riddle my body. I was ready to bed, ready to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but something called me across the hall. Curiosity got me and I turned slightly, walking up and leaning on the doorframe. There was Negan, clad in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, unpacking his things.

"Hey," I said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He turned around. He looked older like this, hair unkempt and his glasses on. When he saw me his lips curled in a smile. Any trace of vulnerability I had seen earlier was now gone.

"Hey to you."

"I just want to apologize for earlier," I said "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm also sorry that you have to be subjected to me and my dad for the foreseeable future." He let out a snicker and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, doll. And you're not that bad. I appreciate Rick; he's a good man." He scratched his beard and looked over at the clock next to the bed. "It's late, you should get some rest." He took a deep breath and I nodded. I turned to leave but he called my name softly. "You know I meant what I said last night, you are looking good." I smiled but didn't say anything and crossed the hall, shutting my door and hopping into bed.

[citydreamgrls]

yes, captain

fred weasley x fem!reader

words: 2,675

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on ‘a christmas treat’ it’s been crazy how many of you enjoyed it <333

warnings: smut , 18+ 

“What do you mean he’s sick?” The twins cried out in unison. I had heard voices before I’d reached the common room, but seeing them shocked wasn’t what I had been expecting. In fact it was a rarity to see them surprised at all.

“What’s up?” I asked them both, just as Lee was leaving. George had his head in his hands and Fred’s lip was blatantly chewed up.

“Wood’s sick, he’s off for 2 weeks.” He explained.

“Oh shit, that’s not good. So does that mean you two ar-”

“Co-captains.” They groaned in unison, used to having people follow them but not usually having to be in charge of anyone.

I put my arms around Fred, who was still in his quidditch uniform from practice, and gave him a much needed hug.

“You guys will be great, I’m sure of it.” I promised the twins, letting them clean up before dinner.

-

“So… how does it feel to have a boyfriend who’s the quidditch captain.” Hermione teased me, finding this to be more interesting than her book of all things.

“Fred’s co-captain, remember, and besides they only found out today.”

Harry came and sat in front of us with Ron as his side, who was more bothered by his food than his older brothers.

“I think they’ll be great captains,” Harry said, excited to have the troublemakers taking charge.

“Well of course you’d say that,” Hermione scoffed, opening her book again.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Ron looked up, clearing his throat as though to speak but the girl beside me cut him off before he had the chance.

“Harry’s the team’s seeker, he just has to do his job. That’s easy. It’s the chasers that cause trouble, they’re always squabbling over who goes where and how many goals each of them scores.”

“Yeah, what Hermione said.” Ron rolled his eyes and carried on eating.

“Guess we’ll see tomorrow afternoon eh?” Harry sighed.

“Do you think you guys will be ready for the match against Ravenclaw?” I asked.

“Hard to tell, we’ve got some time… but we’re out of a keeper now Wood’s off sick.” He huffed.

Just on cue both Fred and George turned up, looking as confident as ever as people congratulated them on their temporary promotion. Fred sat down beside me, giving me a kiss quickly before any of the others could complain.

“Ron, we need you to be our keeper.” George told his younger brother without hesitating.

Poor boy almost choked on a mouthful of potato when he realised what the twin had told him. Harry had to slap his back to get him to look alive again, making Hermione giggle from behind her book.

“Me!”

“Yes you, come to practice tomorrow and we’ll see if you’re any good.” Fred added, giving my hand a squeeze under the table.

-

“So I guess this means you’ll be too busy with captain duties,” I teased Fred as he tried to write an essay on the common room sofa.

“Oh yes, too busy for girlfriends. Especially when I have so many.”

I rolled my eyes and mindlessly played with his long hair.

“You don’t have the energy for too many girlfriends, me and George are enough for you.”

“You’re not wrong.”

He closed his potions book with a sigh and threw it to his feet, finally able to relax a little bit and lay with his head in my lap.

“Are you nervous Fred?”

“About what?”

“About being captain silly, you do have a practice tomorrow remember?”

“Oh no it slipped my mind, because I really have so much more going on right now.” He huffed sarcastically.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” I laughed and he nodded sheepishly. “It’ll be fine, I said I’d help Ginny with some homework tomorrow though so I can’t come and watch.”

“That’s actually a bit of a relief, I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of you.” Fred sighed.

“You’re the most confident person I know, not to mention the goofiest. When have you ever been worried about embarrassing yourself?” I pointed out, and he couldn’t help but agree.

-

The next day, after practice, the team filed into the common room kinda quietly. Making both Hermione and I frown at their sudden gloomy nature.

Fred and George were last and stopped at the two of us leaning up at them on the sofa.

“How was it?” I asked, still hopeful.

“Pretty bad,” George grunted before kicking off his boots and flopping into an armchair.

���Two of the chasers got into a fight and targeted each other any time we tried to play, it was useless!” Fred exclaimed as I played with his quidditch robes.

“Told you so.” Hermione hissed, but I just ignored her.

“They’re bound to be a bit unruly, it’s probably because they’re used to Wood.” I tried to reason with them, but neither twin seemed convinced by my theory. “It’ll get better.” I whispered to Fred.

-

It could’ve been possible that I cursed it, because things seemed to spiral from then on. Ron had doubts about being a keeper, Harry was always turning up to practices late and leaving early. The chasers refused to talk to one another, and things just took a turn for the worse when the twins started to argue over how to fix things.

It was 3 days before the match and the team was more divided than ever before. Making Fred feel responsible for the downfall.

“It was two weeks, that was it. And I couldn’t even control things for one day!” He complained aloud as I sat on his bed, hoping he would chill out a bit. I opened my arms, letting him crawl into them as if he was a child.

“I’m helpless y/n.” He huffed.

“No you’re not.” George walked in, saw his brother and immediately went to walk back out. They had been avoiding each other ever since their argument, and it was time for things to go back to normal.

“Oi stop right there.” Both boys froze as I spoke, I moved Fred off me and stood up. Not that it was intimidating to either of them, but it was worth a try. “You two need to forget whatever you were mad about and forgive each other, because nothing’s gonna go right if neither of you can agree.” I stated, their heads hung in the realisation that what I was saying was right.

“If we did things my way we could actually win.” Fred grumbled from his bed.

“I don’t care,” George seemed caught off guard that I wouldn’t immediately take my boyfriend’s side. “If you did win, it wouldn’t feel as good than if you did it together.”

“She’s right.” The boy by the door finally spoke up, holding a hand out to his brother. Fred shook it with an awkward smile. “Sorry Georgie.”

“Now. let’s figure out what to do with this team.” I sighed.

-

After a whole night of negotiating, Fred and George settled on a game plan and went to the last practice with hope in their hearts. Hermione  and y/n watched them fly about from the stands, unable to hear the boys talk, but unable to spot any problems as they played through the upcoming match.

Once it was over Fred came straight over to y/n. He was grinning wider than she’d seen all month.

“Better?” She laughed.

“So much better.”

-

“I like seeing you happy,” The girl told her boyfriend later that night, promising not to keep him up too late. They needed to be awake early of course. Her and Fred were standing at the top of the astronomy tower looking over the grounds as the sun went down.

“Thank you for helping us,” He whispered. He loomed behind her and rested his arms on the balcony in front of her, caging her in.

“Yeah well you owe me, big time.”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll get a reward.” He smirked, making a chill run down her spine.

They’d had sex before, plenty of times, and many after winning games. But something more rested on this game, if he won there would be an even bigger feeling of achievement for the boy. Who was usually quite happy to take sidelines as one of the two beaters in the team. Now, he was a captain and it would look good if he won.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asked y/n.

“I shouldn’t distract you, rest is the only thing you need Fred.”

“It’s not what I want though,” She felt his body press up against her and she wondered whether getting fucked by him up there would be all that bad. However, she decided to wait, knowing it would be even better after they won.

“Fred. I’ll see you in the morning okay?” y/n smiled and slipped out from under his trap, giving his cheek a kiss and running off.

“Oi, that’s not a proper goodnight. Come back here!” He called out with laughter, a chase beginning on the twisting steps back down to the castle.

-

Hermione always claimed she couldn’t care less about quidditch, but as soon as she saw Ron as Gryffindor’s keeper she suddenly became yet another teenage girl screaming his name in support. Y/n laughed, seeing her friend switch up so quickly.

Then again, her voice always went hoarse after cheering on Fred and George so violently it sometimes felt like she’d never talk again. But she would never do it differently. Seeing the twins in their captain’s robes made her heart swell with pride, especially when Fred flew past their stand to give her a wink like he did before every game. It was practically tradition by this point.

“Go Fred!!!!” She screamed as he swung his bat around, sending bludgers flying through the air and towards Ravenclaw’s chasers. One of them almost fell to the ground trying to dodge it, and in turn losing possession of the quaffle to the Gryffindor chasers who had finally learnt to work together. They flew in formation, passing the ball between one another to throw off the other team. Then as one of them went to score, the other two held off opposing beaters so they could score.

To Hermione’s joy; Ron was amazing. He barely let a single goal in, kicking them off and thwacking them away with his broom. After a while he began to show off, but no one minded because he still managed to defend the goal.

Fred and George were working their asses off trying to hit off bludgers, not stopping for a single second to notice what else was going on. Y/n could watch her boyfriend work like that all day, his face laced with determination and joy whenever he hit one off successfully. Even more so whenever they scored another goal. Ravenclaw had never had a chance against them.

The match ended as always, with Harry just about catching the snitch before the other team’s seeker got there. He flew down to find the team hugging one another in joy, the rest of Gryffindor house racing from the stands to join the celebration. It wasn’t long before Fred and George were carried back to the common room, their names being chanted like gods.

Y/n caught a flash of her boyfriend’s red hair disappearing into the crowd as her and Hermione followed the flow of people into the castle.

-

“There you are!” Fred had called, finally finding y/n amongst the people partying later that night. “Thought you’d sacked me off.”

“As if, you’re the winning captain now I’m basically a celebrity by default!” She joked, taking the drink from his hand and sipping it hesitantly.

“Oi, what was that for?” He complained.

“I don’t trust my own drinks round you and George.”

“You’ve learnt then,”

“Yep, the hard way.” He smirked at my words and pulled me aside to talk quietly.

“Speaking of hard things, I’m on an absolute power high and really need you.” He said, never one to beat around the bush, well they’d done it once in a bush.

“Give me 10 minutes,” she told him.

“I’ll be waiting in the secret hallway, near potions?” y/n nodded and Fred disappeared off to wait for her, hoping no one would stop him on his way there.

Y/n went up to her dorm room, quickly knocking back a few shots before fixing her makeup and making her hair look less flat. Hermione saw her sneak through the common room and sent her a wink, making the girl blush as she slipped out into the main castle.

It was a Saturday night, and everyone would be gathered in their common rooms by now if there wasn’t already a party going on, so the castle was quiet as she walked through it. Footsteps sounded from somewhere in front of her. The girl slipped inside the transfiguration class, keeping the door just ajar to see filch walk past. Seconds past before she ran back out and straight to the secret passageway her and Fred had discovered a few months prior.

“Fred?” She called out quietly, not able to see him yet. He came out of the shadows with a smirk on his face and rested on the cold stone wall.

“Hello beautiful.” He said, as she took no time to jump on him. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, immediately enthralled in his kiss and the slight taste of licorice that seemed to constantly linger on his tongue.

“It’s been so- so hard not to just come f-fuck you right away,” She moaned admittedly between breaths, struggling to speak over the sheer lust coursing through her body.

Fred’s hands played across her neck, rough as always from the cold air, and travelled across her body. He didn’t dare waste time taking off clothes, and grabbed her waist to push her away. She gasped at the sudden lack of touch, but obeyed his every move as the boy laid himself down on the cold steps. Y/n knew what to do. Fred pulled out his cock as she took off her panties from beneath her skirt. She straddled his lap, letting him slip inside her.

In that moment, as their heads were involuntarily thrown back, both groaned out with immense pleasure. Y/n knew how cocky Fred would get after a quidditch win, this position being their own kind of celebration. But there was something different about the boy this time.

He was pounding harder, and deeper, and encouraging the girl’s sweet moans every time one slipped from between her beautiful lips. She could feel his grip, tighter than ever, leaving little finger sized bruises on her hips as she rocked back and forth.

The sheer size of his cock inside her made y/n tense up, Fred having no choice but to speed up.

She screamed, suddenly very appreciative of the passageways seclusion, her chest heaving as the girl had to take a second to adjust to the growing desire in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re close aren’t you?” Fred laughed, revelling in how good he was making her feel. Y/n could only nod in response, her lip tight in her teeth. The boy laughed again, but she could never feel nervous around him.

A hand came up to her neck, she felt it first before she saw it. He clenched the sides with his long fingers as y/n gasped out. He watched her moan lightly, almost begging incoherently as he got her closer and closer.

One last push with his hand made the girl scream, her pussy tighter than he’d ever felt it before. The boy struggled to hold back much longer, pushing her off so he could cum.

“Fuck,” Fred groaned.

“Please, promise me one thing.” Y/n asked, making her boyfriend frown.

“What?”

“Never let anyone else be captain again,” She gasped, still worn out from how ruthless he’d been with her.

[mirrorscomic]

MIRRORS: CHAPTER 6

Summary: Patoto and Kinpa are on another mission in Villainverse.  However, things are getting a little dicey for the pair...

Author Notes: heyyy this’ll be the first chapter posted in the new format!  i’m leaving the comic version of the first bit of this chapter up b/c i did work hard on those but i’ve rewritten that part as well.  i hope you enjoy what i have for you, and thank you so much for sticking with me through this project so far!

Time has passed since Patoto’s recovery in the alternate universe.  He and Kinpa are now on a mission on another planet, currently walking along a large rock wall next to some foliage under a pleasant, purple sky.  Things are quiet.

However, it isn’t long before Patoto senses something, almost as if they’re being watched.  He turns his attention to the foliage.  He doesn’t see anything just yet.

Kinpa stops and looks over his shoulder to his bodyguard.  “What is it, Patoto…?”

The larger saiyan suddenly reaches out a hand and fires an energy blast into the foliage.  Before it can hit, a lanky, rough-looking saiyan leaps over it to dodge.  The blast explodes behind him as he lands on the ground on all-fours, glaring directly at Patoto for just a split second before darting forward in an attack.  Patoto catches him, but the force of his approach knocks them both back against the rock wall.

As the attacker snaps his jaws at Patoto’s face, attempting to bite him, he’s flung to the side by a small energy blast fired by Kinpa.  He gets up on his elbows, glaring at the orange-haired saiyan.  He glances at Patoto before lunging forward and leaping over him to try and get to Kinpa, but Patoto quickly grabs him by the tail and yanks him back, causing him to yelp in pain.  Patoto then holds him tightly by the neck and pins him against the wall.

“So, what’s the deal this time?” Patoto asks with a sneer.  “You another hitman or something?”

“How’d you guess?” hisses the trapped saiyan.

“You’re not the first one that’s tried to kill me lately.  Tell me who you are and who sent you.”

The saiyan growls and wriggles in his grip.  “Why should I?”

Patoto tightens his hold in response, choking him.  “Because something tells me you don’t want your windpipe crushed.”

Unable to respond until Patoto loosens his grip, the saiyan bares his teeth, but responds after a moment.  “Fine...it...doesn’t matter, anyway…  My name’s Slane.  I was sent by a guy named Calabris.”

Patoto furrows his brow, the name striking something in his brain.  “Calabris…?  Why does that sound familiar?”

“He said you...took something from him.  He wanted me to...take you out.  So, he...busted me out of prison...to sic me on you.”

“He must have been the one who sent that Namekian, too, then, right?”

“That’s right.”

Patoto finally lets Slane go, dropping him to the ground, where he rubs his neck and pants to catch his breath.  The larger saiyan turns away and walks a few steps, thinking.  “Calabris…  Who is that?  What does he want with me?”

As the other has his back turned, Slane growls lowly.  He suddenly leaps at Patoto, but he’s just as quickly caught between the other’s large hands.  The two lock eyes for a moment…

...and then, in a quick movement, Patoto snaps his neck.  His lifeless body falls to the ground.  Kinpa doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just looking at the dead body on the ground, though he seems unfazed; he’s seen this before.  “What do we do about this?” he asks, clearly concerned.  “We can’t have someone sending hitmen after you all the time.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if he rears his head so we can find him,” Patoto responds with a sigh.  “He’ll turn up eventually once he gets tired of losing, I’m sure.  He sounds like a coward to me; he can’t even face me himself.”

Kinpa watches him warily before they continue on their way.

Later that night, the two set up camp next to their pods, complete with a campfire.  Patoto gets comfortable against the rock wall, allowing him to keep an eye on their surroundings, while Kinpa sleeps as best as he can on the other side of the fire.  Patoto takes a while to fall asleep, but eventually, his eyes slowly close, and he dozes off.

In the middle of the night, a silent figure sneakily floats down from the sky and lands behind Kinpa.  No one notices their presence.

Morning comes soon enough, and Patoto’s eyes flutter open.  He almost immediately notices the absence of his partner, becoming alert and looking around.  “Kinpa?”

“Patoto.”

Patoto narrows his eyes as a strange voice comes over his scouter.  “...  You’re not Kinpa.”

“Good observation.”

“Are you Calabris?  What have you done with Kinpa?”

In another area of the planet, a cloaked saiyan holds the stolen scouter while its owner sits unconsciously on the floor, hands tied.  “Oh, don’t worry about him.  He’s here with me.”

Meanwhile, Patoto stands, hair bristling.  “What the hell kind of beef do you have with me?  Who are you?  How do you even know me?”

Calabris can be heard scoffing over the scouter.  “I had a feeling you wouldn’t remember me.  I was in your class.  We fought on the same team.  But when it was time to get promoted, they chose you over me…  A mistake that I won’t let go unchecked.”

Patoto sneers.  “Tell me where you are.  Now.”

“Don’t get too excited, Patoto.  I’m the one pulling the strings here.  You do what I say, and you’ll see him soon enough.”

Patoto growls, but doesn’t respond.  Calabris continues, “I’ll give you the coordinates to our location.  Come here and meet me, and I’ll hand him over to you without a scratch.  Understood?”

Patoto clenches his fists...but lets out a deep breath.  “...  Fine.”

From his ship, Calabris smirks down at his captive.  “...  Good.”

It doesn’t take very long before Patoto is flying across the planet towards the coordinates Calabris gave him.  He lands in a pretty barren part of the planet, save for a few rocks here and there, and looks around for any sign of movement.

Before long, he spots a saiyan walking out from behind a rock pillar.  He has a unique appearance--white hair, striking blue eyes, and pale skin.  Patoto frowns, turning to face the newcomer.  “Are you Calabris?”

The saiyan shakes his head.  “I’m Turnis.”

“Where’s Calabris?”

Instead of answering further, Turnis swipes his hand up, an energy sword forming from it.  It’s clear he isn’t here to talk as he gets into a battle position.

Patoto scowls.  “Fine.  If that’s how you want to do it.”

He moves into his own battle position, and the two stand there for a moment in silence.  All at once, they charge at each other.

Turnis attempts striking with his sword right off the bat, but Patoto manages to dodge it just as it swings by him and slams into the ground, debris flying up everywhere as the ground cracks.  Patoto then fires energy blasts to try and get some distance between them, but Turnis simply slices through them with his sword.

The white-haired saiyan then goes for a leaping strike, swinging his sword above his head, but Patoto catches it between his hands.  They glare at each other for a few tense moments before Patoto flings the sword to the side and immediately punching him, then kicking him away.

Turnis skids to a stop and retracts his sword, seeming to be changing tactics.  He holds his hands up close to his chest, focusing his energy there.  Suddenly, the energy shoots out from his hands in many missile-like blasts.  Patoto runs quickly in order to dodge them.  While he does this, he swipes his hand around and fires his own energy spears back at Turnis, who leaps up to dodge them.  While up in the air, he charges up what looks to be a high-powered energy blast, and Patoto stops to ready his own in response.  The two fire their attacks, and the struggle begins.

It seems the two are quite evenly matched at first, neither of them giving up ground.  However, with one determined push and a battle cry, Patoto increases his energy output enough to overpower Turnis’ beam and knock him back.  He falls limply to the ground, but he isn’t dead; Patoto made sure not to kill him just yet.

Defeated, Turnis rolls over onto his hands and knees.  He’s out of breath.  Patoto approaches, but stops a few feet away from him.  Turnis doesn’t look up.  “What are you waiting for?  Finish me off like all the others wanted to.”

Patoto furrows his brow.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

“All you elites have ever done was want me dead.  Now you finally have the opportunity.  Why not take it?”

Patoto seems confused, but then sighs impatiently.  “Look, guy, I don’t know what your problem is, but all I want to know is where Kinpa is being held.  If you tell me that, I won’t lay another finger on you.”

That seems to surprise the other, who looks up at him suspiciously.  “You’re not going to kill me?”

“I have more important things to do.  Anyway, why the hell are you working for Calabris?  He was in the same class as me.”

Turnis blinks in confusion.  “What?”

“He’s practically an elite, too.  Did he not tell you?”

There’s a silence as Turnis hesitates.  “...  No.  He didn’t.”

“Tell me where he’s keeping my partner, and I’ll let you go.”

Turnis finally manages to sit up, looking at the ground.  It seems he’s ready to talk.  “...  Calabris has him in his ship due north from here.  He was waiting for me to kill you and bring your body back before dealing with your partner.”

Patoto growls, nodding his head to the side.  “Get out of here.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Turnis rises to his feet.  He then lifts into the air, flying away with only a single glance back at the saiyan who allowed him to keep his life.

Back at Calabris’ ship, Kinpa is still unconscious on the floor of the control room while Calabris paces around impatiently.  Footsteps can be heard soon enough, and Calabris stops with his back turned to the doorway that Patoto is currently standing in.  He smirks a little.  “...  I see you took care of Turnis.”

Patoto doesn’t look like he wants to chat.  “He’s out of the picture.  I’m here for Kinpa.”

Calabris turns to look at his apparent enemy, flicking his singed tail underneath his cloak.  “You say that as if I’m going to make it that easy on you.”

Patoto glares darkly as he steps forward, but he stops when Calabris holds up a hand with an energy blast ready to be fired directly at Kinpa’s head.  “Ah, ah…  Surrender now, or he dies.”

That stops Patoto.  He clenches his fists, but backs off.  “Fine.  Do what you want with me, but let him go.”

This seems to please Calabris.  “Come a little closer.”

Frowning, Patoto takes a few cautious steps forward again.  He doesn’t see Calabris’ hand slip into his cloak and pull out a small device with a button on it, which he presses.  This activates a mechanism involving two metal clasps that shoot out from the floor and clamp around Patoto’s wrists before a high-voltage electric shock is sent through his body, causing him to cry out in pain before he falls to the ground onto his knees.

Calabris lowers his hand with a small laugh and decides to walk around Patoto, watching him.  “They let just about anybody be elites nowadays, don’t they?  You’re so easy.”  He walks back around to Kinpa, raising his hand with another energy blast ready to go.  “Let me just take care of this first before I get to you.”

Patoto yanks at his restraints, but is unable to break them.  “No!  You said you’d let him go!”

“I don’t remember saying anything like that.  I want this to be as painful as possible for you; why would I let him live?  At least he’s unconscious.  He won’t feel a thing.”

Patoto watches as his partner helplessly sits on the ground with the energy blast aimed directly for his temple.  This can’t be it!  He can’t let him do this!  “No…  No!!”

He tugs at his restraints a little harder, anger building up inside his chest...  

“NO!!!”

Suddenly, Patoto explodes in a bright burst of energy and power.  His dark hair turns a brilliant blonde, and his eyes change to blue.  He easily breaks through the restraints now, startling Calabris as he jumps to his feet.

Calabris barely has time to react as Patoto grabs him by the collar of his cloak and swipes him around to where he’s away from Kinpa.  He stares daggers into the frightened saiyan’s odd-colored eyes and holds a hand up.  Without hesitation, he fires a huge energy blast, destroying Calabris in one attack that blasts through the ship’s hull and into the sky.

Time passes after Calabris is taken care of, and eventually Kinpa awakens.  When he opens his eyes, he’s being carried through the sky by Patoto, who looks down at him.  If he looks hard enough, Kinpa can see what seems to be relief in the bodyguard’s eyes.  They both return to their ships, safe with each other.

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 16

part 1 | part 15 | part 17

TW: blood & death. PLEASE heed these warnings

A/N: lmao you guys thought that last chapter was angsty?  

Everything had gone back to normal the next morning; it was like nothing had changed. Y/N didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand she was grateful that they were able to go about their days like they always had, on the other hand she wished that they had achieved something more. If only Y/N could have opened her damn mouth. At which point she had to remind herself that there’s a very large possibility that Sokka liked Suki which sent her head spiraling into a completely different and unwanted direction that she avoided thinking about at all costs. What did it mean for her to like two people that might like each other? Honestly, Y/N had never realized her life was so complicated. In fact, Y/N had almost convinced herself their midnight confessions were a dream until a week later when they were flying on Appa and Sokka leaned close to her. 

“Do you think we’ll camp by a river we can skip rocks at?”

Y/N cocked one eyebrow. Sokka already knew the answer. He didn’t need her to tell him they always camped near water. “I hope so,” she replied.

The wind was howling in their ears enough that Y/N didn’t think anyone would hear but Toph scoffed from her place near the edge of the saddle. “When do you guys go out and skip rocks?”

At the sound of Toph’s voice, Aang and Katara turned to look at them. 

“Uhhh…” Sokka scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Sometimes when we’re not sparring we do fun things!” Y/N said defensively.

“What other fun things do you get up to?” Toph’s voice was innocent, but her face was mischievous. She knew exactly what she was asking. Y/N could hear Aang snicker from Appa’s head. 

Y/N noticed Sokka scooted farther away from her in the saddle, keeping a very appropriate distance between the two of them, his cheeks were a fiery red. She didn’t give Toph the satisfaction of an answer. Mostly because she didn’t even know what to say back. Hahah, Toph, I wish!! Y/N groaned internally at the thought. 

Y/N caught Katara’s eye from the front of the saddle. The girl narrowed her eyes at Y/N. Y/N blinked and looked towards the clouds, when she looked back Katara was still staring at her. She flicked her eyes between Sokka and Y/N in wordless conversation. You two? 

Y/N furrowed her brow, glancing at Sokka and then returning to Katara. Y/N shook her head violently. No way! 

Katara raised a solitary eyebrow and smiled. Her thoughts were clear, I don’t believe it. 

If the embarrassment of a one-sided crush wasn’t enough, now if Katara got a hold of Sokka, Y/N would get to hear him adamantly deny liking her. Y/N slid down in the saddle until her head rested on the edge. Oh endless sleep, take me now! She begged the spirits. None of them ever got back to her. 

“You guys, it’s your turn to go to town to get food.” Y/N turned around from where she was setting up her sleeping bag to look at Katara.

“Who’s ‘you guys’?” She asked.

“You and Sokka.” Aang floated a moonpeach towards Momo who snatched it out of the air and tore into it. 

Y/N groaned and flopped down on her blankets. She looked towards the sky. There was probably a few hours before sunset. “But it’ll be dark by the time we get back,” She pouted. 

“Then I guess we just won’t eat tonight,” Toph snarked. She was laying back on the bare dirt with one leg crossed over the other. Y/N kicked out her leg at Toph’s ankle making her legs fall to the ground. Toph waved a finger and a rock shot up from under Y/N’s sleeping bag, knocking her in the head. 

Y/N sucked in a sharp inhale. “Toph, I don’t care if you’re twelve and blind, I’ll still punch you in the face.”

“Do it.” Toph dared. 

A bag of coins was dropped next to Y/N on the ground before she could get up and threaten Toph properly. Katara stood above her with her hands on her hips. “Maybe the next time you mouth off,” Y/N said as she looked at Katara with a sweet grin.

She grabbed her sword and the money and at the last minute leaned over and flicked Toph on the forehead. She ran away quickly only to be tripped by a stone that wasn’t there a second before hand. 

Y/N sprawled on the ground. She lifted her head just enough to yell, “Aang, it’s not FUNNY!” 

She rolled to her feet and shot a glare back at the others who were trying to contain their laughter and went off to find Sokka who was collecting firewood. She caught him just as he was heading out of the small strip of woods they were near. 

Her eyes immediately bounced down to look at his bare arms and his bulging bicep. Y/N looked away quickly and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Hey, we’re on shopping duty.” She lifted the pouch of coins and jingled it.

“Oh. Okay, here take some.” Sokka unceremoniously dumped half of the logs he was carrying into her arms, ignoring her protests. “We’ll drop that off at camp first and then leave.”

Y/N hummed. “I don’t think I wanna go back. I pissed Toph off and I think she’s got a rock for me to stub my toe on ready and waiting.” Y/N pointed at her already scraped knee. 

Sokka chuckled. “We have to get Appa anyways, come on. I’ll protect you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. Of course, she knew Sokka was just joking. “My hero,” she said sarcastically. 

---

Y/N hefted the basket in her arms and peered over the top to read the list in her hands. “Do we have everything?”

Sokka looked into her basket and then into his. “I think so. Let’s go back, it’s getting dark.” He was right; the sky was red with fading light. If they wanted to make it back to Appa before the sun set completely, they’d have to hurry. 

Y/N knew the moment they left the streets of that town something was bound to go wrong. That niggling intuition of hers, the one that made her ears ring and the hair on her neck to stand up, was at full attention. They’d reached the woods. Trees lined a small trail and up a good sized hill was Appa waiting for them in a cave. 

Y/N heard a stick snap behind her, but when she whipped her head around there was nothing there.

“What’s up?” Sokka turned his head to join her, giving her a confused glance as he swung his head around. 

“Uh, nothing. I think.” Y/N shook her head and faced forward again. She quickened her pace a touch and Sokka easily caught up with her. Y/N kept her ears pricked for the slightest of sounds around them. She worked to drown out the regular noises like the cicada-bats and the occasional badger-frog and listen for the more unusual sounds; the breaking of twigs under feet, swords being pulled from their sheaths, bowstrings being pulled back…

Then she heard it, the unmistakable sound of a heavy boot on packed dirt. Y/N turned to face them and threw her basket to the side. Damn, the dumplings and the fruit, she’d pay Katara back personally if she and Sokka didn’t die. 

“Sokka, we have a slight problem,” Y/N warned. In front of her was a short man. She could see the sword at his waist but his face was hidden by a broad brimmed hat. Only then did she realize she had seen the same man in the market. She recognized the hat from the stand where they got the fish and the stand where they had bought vegetables for Aang. 

Sokka’s back bumped into hers. “We got a slight problem from this direction too, Princess.” 

Y/N didn’t even spare a glance over Sokka’s shoulder. “Two on two wouldn’t have been so bad if you’d remembered to bring your sword,” Y/N chastised quietly. 

Sokka grumbled something intelligible and Y/N drew her sword. “Who are you? What do you want?” She shouted at the man in front of her. Slowly, Sokka began to shift around to her right side. She saw why, the man in front of them was circling the two of them. He only stopped once he reached his companion. 

“I think it’s obvious what we’re here for,” the first one said. 

Y/N sneered. “Not really. You saw us at the market, we spent almost all of our money on food. If you wanted to rob us you should have done it then.”

“They were following us?” Sokka elbowed her in the side.

“Shut up,” Y/N growled. 

“We’re here for the girl who betrayed her nation.”

---

Y/N stopped breathing. They’d found her. They’d caught her. Even with traveling to a new place everyday and the fancy clothes and the cut hair, someone still recognized her. Y/N could feel herself starting to spiral. She knew this would happen, she told them this would happen...

It was taking too long for her to say something, so Sokka stepped in. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The second man chuckled at them. 

“She does.” The first man had drawn his sword and pointed it at Y/N who snapped her jaw shut. “You think with that new haircut that I wouldn’t recognize you? I’d know those pretty eyes of yours anywhere.”

Y/N’s breathing quickened and a shudder rolled through her body. Who was behind the shadow of that hat? Who knew her face so well? But that wasn’t the only thought running through her mind. She was racing to think of a solution to the problem at hand. It was one on two. She had to get Sokka out of there. He wouldn’t do anything but keep her distracted. She was far too invested in his life for him to stick around. 

Y/N shoved Sokka away from her. “Go! Run and get Appa. Get the others!”

Sokka didn’t stop to question her and Y/N was oh so grateful. 

---

She went for the second man who had yet to pull a weapon. She understood why he hadn’t pulled a weapon when she got within ten feet of him and a knife sliced through the slide of her skirt, ripping the material. Lovely, she thought. A knife thrower like Mai.

The knives were thrown so hard they were almost invisible and she used all her concentration to block them and knock them down. When she got close enough, he pulled a dagger to fight her off with but he was fat and much too slow to be fighting sword against dagger. Her blade pushed cleanly through his abdomen. He fell heavily to the ground, a pool of blood pushing out from underneath him. 

Y/N smacked a hand over her mouth and willed herself not to throw up even as bile built up in the back of her throat. 

“Nicely done,” the other man said. 

Y/N gasped and let out a shuddering breath. Why was he just standing there, watching her kill his friend? 

He lifted off his hat and threw it to the side and the breath was knocked out of her all over again. “Kaito.”

---

Kaito flipped the blade over in his hand as he walked closer to her. Y/N walked backwards until she could no more. “You’re sticking to the shorter attacks like I suggested. That’s good.”

“W–why did you let me kill him!” she screamed. It had been easy. Kaito didn’t even try to help.

Kaito shrugged and looked at his dead companion. “I wanted the reward money for myself. He won’t mind.”

Kaito’s first blow nearly knocked her to her knees and she realized stupidly that this was the real deal. This wasn’t a sparring match on the ship a month ago where Kaito went easy on her; this was the two of them fighting for their lives. This was the match he had patiently explained to her, what seemed like a lifetime ago. She had to win. She could not let the others come back to her dead body in the woods. She wouldn’t make Sokka have to see that. Not after what he told her a week ago. She was not going to let his biggest fear come true. 

---

Blow by blow they were evenly matched. Y/N fighting for her life, Kaito for his honor. He talked while they fought, anything to distract her or throw her off so he could get a stab in. “We’ve been following you for a while. Heard about a little Fire Nation girl who blew up a factory. I knew that’d be you.”

“That was The Painted Lady,” Y/N grumbled as she blocked a swift uppercut. Y/N’s energy was fading fast. She felt like she was being drained by the second. She was sweating, her heart was pounding, her vision blurred with adrenaline. 

She side-stepped and allowed his sword to slice the flesh of her left arm so she could stab at his bum leg. Kaito screamed and fell, clutching his knee. Y/N kicked his sword away in a cloud of dust. She held her sword out threateningly, already beginning to back up to make a run for it. “You aren’t going to keep following us.”

Kaito chuckled darkly. “I’m never going to stop hunting you down. No one will. I’m a soldier and I follow my orders. The penalty for treason is death, and that’s what a traitor like you deserves. You don’t have long anyways,” He smirked.

Y/N saw red. Those words echoed in her head over and over. Traitor. That was her label for choosing the side of the light, the side that believed in harmony and peace. Well then, let it be. 

Kaito slumped face first into the dirt, his head lolling at an unnatural angle. Y/N’s sword was tipped with fresh blood. 

Y/N bent to retrieve his sword from the ground when a stitch tore through her side. It felt like a pulled muscle but that was not a pulled muscle when she looked down; that was a knife in her side. So that’s what Kaito meant by ‘she didn’t have long’. 

---

Y/N let out a hysterical laugh as she pulled the knife out. Blood began to seep out quickly and she vaguely wondered if she should have done that. It didn’t hurt but–woah–that was a lot of blood. The knife slipped from her fingers to the ground. That guy must have had better aim than she thought. 

---

Y/N blinked and Sokka was shaking her shoulders. Where did he come from? His mouth was forming words that Y/N could not hear.

“What?” She asked loudly. That ringing in her ears was loud.

“I was yelling at you not to pull it out!” 

“Oh.”

Sokka grabbed her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look directly at him. “Focus! Are you okay?!” 

Y/N smiled. His eyes were such a pretty blue. Like the deep ocean or the eastern sky when the sun was setting or– “I am now.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sokka peeled her fingers away from her sword and sheathed it. He wrapped her arm around his shoulder and slipped his around her waist. Y/N didn’t know why, she didn’t feel like she needed help walking. 

---

That fuzzy-brained, painless period didn’t last long. 

“Sokka,” Y/N sobbed. She grabbed onto a tree and would have slid down to her knees if Sokka hadn’t been there to catch her. Her other hand clutched her side. “I can’t–I can’t go any further.” She gasped as a sharp pain shot through her side. Every time she breathed it was worse and she was hyperventilating. She squeezed her eyes shut and a few tears leaked out. When she opened her eyes, Sokka was kneeling beside her with a very uncharacteristic serious look on his face. Y/N could have laughed if she wasn’t in so much pain. 

“Just a little farther. We have to get back to Katara.” He shook his head. “Giving up is not an option.”

“Okay, okay.” Y/N scrubbed her face. As she looked to him her chin began to wobble with an impending rush of tears. “I’m scared,” she murmured. It was not something she would normally admit but this was anything but a normal moment. Kaito’s words from the ship echoed in her mind: she had never actually had to face her own death before and now she was. 

“Me too.” Sokka’s face was stoic, but she could hear the shaking of his voice. She held out her hand that wasn’t trying to stop blood from gushing out of her side and Sokka hauled her to her feet. 

---

Y/N was pretty sure in the last one hundred yards it took to get to Appa, Sokka and Y/N tripped over every single root in that part of the forest. It was pitch black, their way only lit by the faint lines of the moon through the tree branches. 

Y/N was relying more and more on Sokka’s strength to get her back to Appa; he was half-carrying her and they were both breathing heavily. 

Appa grunted when they reached him. Y/N didn’t know the context of said grunt. Was he mad that it took them so long? Was he worried because he could smell blood? She was thinking about asking Aang if he could tell what Appa meant by the certain noises he made when Sokka snapped her out of her thoughts. 

“Y/N!” He said sharply. She looked up at him from where she was standing. When did he climb up to the saddle? Y/N started climbing up after him and Sokka reached down to help her. Her arms felt like they weighed a thousand pounds and under any other circumstances her face might have flushed pink if Sokka had grabbed the back of her thigh like he just did to haul her in. She collapsed onto her back, staring at the stars. 

Y/N was pretty sure that Sokka was talking to her but his voice was distorted like she was underwater. Every blink of her eyes lasted longer until she didn’t have the energy to open them anymore. 

Her last thought before fading to black was “Who’s Yue?”

---

Y/N woke up sweating. She automatically began kicking the blankets off, anything to get the heat away from her; she felt like she was suffocating. The motion set off a familiar pain in her left side that left her gasping for air. Finally, after she threw the last fur off, she stubbornly pulled herself to a sitting position. She looked around her. She didn’t remember falling asleep in a tent. Wait, was this Sokka’s tent?!

Y/N pressed a hand against her side, the pressure made it feel better and worse, and crawled to the tent opening. She pulled back one of the flaps just as someone was barreling in.

“Sokka?

“Y/N?”

“I thought I heard you wake up!” he exclaimed, pulling her in for a tight hug. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. Her head was throbbing worse than the first time she drank rice wine. “What happened?”

Sokka ignored the question and his arms tightened around her. “How do you feel?”

“I’m...okay.” Pieces of the night before were beginning to flood back. Kaito and knives. “I am so sorry for scaring you like that.” 

Y/N pulled back from their hug. Their faces were inches apart. She could feel the heat of Sokka’s breath on her cheek. Y/N’s eyes flicker to his lips and then back up to his eyes. Slowly, she backed away from him, but Sokka had other ideas. He grasped her face with both hands pressed his lips against hers. Y/N felt her stomach drop and she squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she was dreaming. 

He pulled back sooner than Y/N would have liked, but left his hands on her cheeks, tracing over her cheekbone lightly with his thumb. There was a dazed expression on his face. 

He immediately jerked his hands away and clasped them in his lap when he noticed her widened eyes. “I’m so sorry. Spirits! I should have asked! I just couldn’t–last night, I couldn’t leave you! I got half way back to Appa and turned around! You almost died and I almost didn’t get to tell you I liked you.” Sokka ran a hand down his face. “Well, I guess I’m telling you now.”

Y/N sat there in stunned silence. Sokka liked her. Sokka liked her. Not anyone else. Y/N was starting to wonder if she was having some type of vivid hallucination from blood loss. She studied Sokka’s face which looked like he wanted to evaporate on the spot. 

“I’ll just go get the others and tell them you’re awake–” Sokka had started to stand up to leave but Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. She wasted no time in wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 

“I like you too, Sokka,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

---

A/N: Did you really think we were going to get out of this with no ‘almost dying’ action?

Taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @astroninaaa​ @aangsupremacy​ @beifongsss​ @crownofcryptids​ @welovediaaxx​ @littlefluu​ @lozzybowe​ @thebluelcdy​ @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey​ @fanficdepot​ @teenbiology​ @13-09-01​ @riespage​ @davnwillcome​ @naanlianid​ @creation-magician​ @lunariasilver​ @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng​ @rockinearthbending-marauders​ @francesciak​ @thia-aep​ @aphrcditeee​ @milk-n-cheese​ @solarsuki​@sendnuwudes @humbleseame​ @my--shitty--art​ @lovingcupcake51002​ @loganrwebb​ @celia-not-cecilia​ @treestarrrrrrrr​ @p--e--a--c--h--e--s​ @velveteencurls​ @izzieserra​ @oddment-nitwit-blubber-tweak @salsasadd​ @nataliahaslosthershit​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @lanie103​ @emogril​ @im-the-galactic-starfish​ @charlotteisabella​ @alienmotel​ @smarshere​ @crxsshatcht @starxtt @sugamonster22​ @natsbelova​ @mellisophilia​ @calumsfringe​ @whatsuphoesandbros​ @samsmultifandomblogs​ @ask-kfc-siblings @i-love-superhero​ @justasukisimp​ @grouchiest-hufflepuff​ @zukostan221 @feverish-dove​ 

[damn-stark]

Time changes

Poe Dameron x stormtrooper!reader

Requested by anon “Can I request a Poe x stormtrooper! Reader? Like, Finn convinces reader to leave the First Order shortly after he did, and Poe is smitten with her when Finn introduces them to each other? -&”

A/N- again if you guys have other Poe requests, send em!!

Warning- small angst, fluff and characters pining against one another.

——

Time is meant to be endless. But as a stormtrooper there is no promise to live another day, hour or minute.

You’re just meant to live without time (unless when it benefits them), you’re just supposed to fight mindlessly, just live like puppets. Only used and aware when they use you.

Nobody wants to live that life. You don’t want to live that life, but you’re...meant to.

Just meant to work and work, fight and—

In a matter of seconds, at the sight of someone familiar you’d thought you would never see again, you lose your train of thought and stop before him completely baffled.

“FN-2189?”

You blink and part your lips to say his number, but at the sight of two strangers next to him you blink again. Only being able to mutter in disbelief after hearing the familiar sound of a droids chirping coming from under a...trash bin? “FN-2187?!”

A smile slowly attempts to tug on your lips, but part of you is still in disbelief that you were seeing your friend.

“It’s uh Finn now actually.” He announces making you express a lighthearted scoff.

“What are you doing back? You’re supposed to be long gone, not back two days later.” You remark in a louder worried tone. “If they see you they’ll kill you.”

“They won’t see me, we—”

“We d-dont have time for this.” The older man that was with FN—with Finn interrupts.

Finn looks over his shoulder to the man and sighs. “Yeah you’re right.” Finn looks back at you and takes a step towards you. “Come with me.”

“Finn.” The girl behind him calls.

“T-talking and w-w-walking.” The man suggests.

Finn nods and grabs your shoulder to turn you around and take you with him as he continues with whatever it was he and his...friends were here for.

“What are you doing here, Finn?” You probe further, “who are they?”

“The girl is my friend Rose and the guy...well he’s Dj. A man who’s going to help us break into the room where the tracker is to stop them from tracking the resistance.”

“Oh,” you mouth, glancing down at the hidden droid. “The droid is yours?”

“A friends. The resistance fighter who I broke out.”

You hum and continue walking with him even if you are still worried about his intentions. “You better not get caught. You got out, I know you wouldn’t want to be back here.”

“I will.” Finn assures you, “but you’re coming with me. I wanted to bring you with me before, but I couldn’t, but now I can. Come with me. You can fight for the right side, have your own name and be free.”

“I—” you pause and sigh. There's nothing you would want more, but to leave, be something more than a puppet for the first order. But you have to wonder, what if they capture you and imprison you again? Get forced to be the same as you are now. Just another nameless soldier.

“What if they take me again?” You finally manage to say, blinking up to look at him.

“I won’t let that happen.” Finn assures you, “nobody will. I promise.” He offers you a small warm smile that you can’t help but mirror and feel assured. “So what do you say? Do you want to get out of here?”

Your smile pulls into a smirk and you nod. “I do.”

Finally. This was going to be your time to finally be free.

——

Okay perhaps leaving and moments after escaping the First Order didn’t go as smoothly as you’d initially thought (too much wishful thinking on your part) but you got out. You were free. No more strings.

Yet you had to wonder.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You ask Finn once you both finally manage to find a peaceful time after the chaos.

“I’m sure,” he assures you with a kind smile, “they took me in didn’t they?”

You suck air through your teeth and feign a cringed look. “Did they though?”

Finn shoots you a pointed glare and fakes his laugh. Just as he’s about to retort a voice interrupts his thoughts. “Hey.”

Both Finn and you turn to notice a man you had seen many times before. Finn’s friend you assume, but can’t be certain of since there was no downtime for introductions when you first arrived. There wasn’t even time to take everyone in, everything was a rush after you left.

But now that you did have the time, you took a good look at the resistance fighter, noticing he was in fact very handsome and even if from the outside he looked intimidating, his eyes told a different story. They were dark and warm. There was something instantaneously captivating about him.

You can’t help but smile as you greet him. “Hello.”

His eyes drift to you and he blinks repeatedly, letting his lips tug into a half smile and uttering the same words he had said before. Only this time his voice sounded softer. “Hi.”

An amused grin grows on your lips and you surpass the need to laugh at his reaction. Something Finn notices too.

“Poe this is one of my oldest and best friends from the order,” Finn pauses for a brief moment to look at you, smiling to himself as an idea comes to his mind. “Y/N.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you tilt your head to meet his gaze. “Really?”

Finn shrugs, “take it or leave it, I’m not choosing anything else.”

You groan, “fine, I’ll take it.”

Finn rolls his eyes and turns back to his friend. “Anyways as I was saying, y/n meet Poe. The resistance fighter that helped me escape. Without him I don’t know where I’d be.”

Poe scoffs and shakes his head. “You got to give yourself some credit. If it wasn’t for your bravery in helping me break out I wouldn’t be alive.”

Finn scoffs too and just shrugs nonchalantly, noticing Poe’s gaze fall on you again and deciding to make an excuse to apparently do something else for a quick moment. Leaving Poe and you alone.

“So,” Poe breaks the silence, “what did you do when you were part of the first order? Were you a pilot? Or a foot soldier just like Finn?”

You shake your head and find yourself unable to break your gaze away from his. “No, I was a mechanic.”

“Ah, you’re in luck then, I need some help, this ship is falling apart by the second. Could you help me?”

You offer a short nod and begin to follow him to where he needs you, ending up below the floor of the ship and instantly seeing a solution for his problem.

“Lucky I got you here, another second and maybe the ship would’ve stopped in the vacuum space.” Poe tells you smugly.

You scoff and shake your head as you hook a last wire in another input. “Don’t say that or I’ll believe your lies.”

Poe chuckles. “Hey, I only compliment people when I see true amazing skill.”

You climb back up to the floor and show him a smirk, “you’re feeding my ego, it’s a dangerous thing.”

Poe shrugs with a faint smirk on his lips, choosing to change the subject shortly thereafter. “You know how to fly?”

You shake your head and sit across from him, letting your legs dangle over the open gap. “I could pull apart any ship and rebuild it without a need for a blueprint, and maybe even with my eyes closed, but I cannot for the life of me fly a ship. I’ve never had the chance.”

Poe quirks a brow at your surprising answer. “Really? I thought you would? I thought you would know how to do everything considering you’re a stormtrooper.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “That’s the stereotype, but no. I can sorta shoot a blaster, might as well have been born with the damn thing,” you explain, “and shooting is the first thing they teach you, but after that you aren’t taught much else. You get dropped into a station and you’re stuck there.” You shrug, “I’d love to learn though, I’ve always liked the concept of flying in space, feeling the adrenaline that comes with flying.”

Poe grins at looks at you with a soft gaze. Having to blink and express a sigh before he replied to you. “Flying is great and fun if you know how it enjoy it and do it properly.”

You smirk and slightly tilt your head. “Well if you know a great pilot that could teach me, please let me know. I’d love to learn.”

Poe smirks and leans his body closer to you. “I might know one or two.”

As if it had been out of instinct you lean in too, having your gaze briefly fall to his lips before you force yourself to look back at his dark eyes and respond. “Is that so?”

He nods and hums, “Mhmm, for starters,” he remarks smugly, letting his eyes fall to your lips for a brief moment. “I can teach you. I’m a great pilot. It wouldn’t cost you anything either.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and bat your eyelashes. “Really? That’s hard to believe. I mean being a great pilot and all, aren’t you busy?”

Poe shrugs and his smug smile spreads wider, “well I’m making an exception. For a pretty face and a new friend.”

You quirk a brow and again look down at his lips as you lean in again. Smirking as you see Poe cockily lick his lips when he leans in too. Leaving only a couple inches left between the both of you.

“well in that case sign me up. Just let me know when.”

“I could now.” He offers.

You stroke your chin and hum as you pretend to be in deep thought. Answering only after you pull away and stand to your feet. “I can’t right now, I’m busy. The ship needs some fixing. But how about in a more private setting? I tend to learn quicker when it’s just a one on one lesson. Crowds,” you roll out slowly, “distract me.”

Poe scoffs at your actions and chooses to stand up as well, taking a step towards you and choosing to quickly add more in the same soft and low voice. “You name the time and day and it’s a date.”

“Well that depends on you,” you shrug, “when are you free?”

“I’m free tomorrow night, how does that sound?”

You walk forward and stop to look over your shoulder to shoot him a sweet smile. “Sounds like a date.”

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

orange and gold

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

Set a few months after Master of the Mountain, but before Seabound or The Island.

Also yeah, I couldn't think of a better title, sue me- I just know that they wear one of the colours at some point, so... 🤦‍♀️😂

Trigger warnings: none I think? Huh-

Also, bingo!! I really need to learn better time management, dear freaking gosh- I hope I'm not too late though? I know it's like half a day late, eek- and I was supposed to post this earlier, but I ended up literally falling asleep while writing it😂

Thank you so much Fabro, for hosting such a cool event!:D Your comments on my fics literally never fail to make my day<3. And I'm so glad that I met so many awesome, really skilled people through this event too - it's been a lot of fun working alongside y'all:D, I wish I'd had more time to interact instead of posting stuff and vanishing lol, but exams be like:////

Prompt: cooking (does baking count as cooking? I realized too late lol-) from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Word Count: 2497

---

Trying to escape from killer dire-bats hadn't been on Cole's to do list today - although the mountains were kind of beautiful.

It was a bit difficult to see them while he was being dragged to his death, but hey, didn't Jay always tell them to be more positive?

That was, until he made the mistake of looking down.

Miles of snowcapped mountains touched the pastel blue sky, but he was more focused on exactly how high he was from the ground.

Great.

Trying to swing back onto the Bounty, he didn't notice a golden-winged blur shoot past the bat, almost dropping their spear in haste.

"Let my friend go, or I'll-"

"Vania?"

She throws the spear at the bird, successfully knocking one of its wings.

Huh. She must've been practicing - throwing with accuracy while flying seemed kinda difficult.

"I'm so sorry!" she replies, grabbing his arm before he fell down too. She winces at the strain on her wings, almost dropping him onto the deck. "I was supposed to come earlier, but there was an issue with one of the mines, and it took forever to-"

"There ain't anything in this world that's managed to kill me yet," he replies jokingly, checking that the autopilot hadn't been damaged. "I doubt an angry bird is going to be the first."

"Didn't you mention that you became a ghost once? Pretty sure that means you were dead-"

"Shh, that's not an important detail," he jokes.

"If you say so," she replies with a grin. "Did I mention that Chompy's been tearing down the palace flower arrangements again?"

"Send my regards to the gardener-"

"Did you just make a pun?"

"Remind me why I decided to visit you again?"

"Because you love me?" she asks stepping onto the ground as the Bounty landed gently.

"I hereby crown you as my platonic soulmate," Cole deadpans, taking her hand. "Vania and Cole-"

"Destined to annoy each other for eternity," she giggles, swinging their hands up and down. "But seriously - thanks. I don't think I realized how much work being a queen was."

"What's it like?"

"I mean - I'm glad that people trust me, and they come to me if they have a problem, but the paperwork is a nightmare. I never get to go outside anymore, I swear."

"Paperwork? Also, you just invited me here for a week. I don't wanna disturb you?"

"Nah, I cleared my schedule, don't worry. And trust me, you don't want to know. Everything requires some sort of official written thing, and it's so boring-"

"Official? But you're the queen?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want to change something unless it benefits the people. Not after..."

Her smile dims, eyes straying to the palace walls.

Oh- oh.

"You're nothing like him," Cole says firmly, squeezing her hand. "I mean, if you need to take a break, or you can make your job a bit easier by cutting out something unnecessary, that's just gonna help you become a better queen. You've definitely got the interests of your people at heart, and that's the most important thing, you know? And well, uh, everything seems to be going great so far - you don't have to beat yourself up over someone else's mistakes."

"Thanks," she replies softly, her smile slowly returning. "Speaking of breaks, what do you think we should do this time?"

"You could show me around the city again?"

"You've already seen everything cool," Vania giggles, skipping ahead of him. "We don't renovate much - unlike you guys-"

"Hey, it's not our fault that our city gets destroyed every few months-"

"More like every few days," she teases, tying back her golden hair. "How about we find some dragons to adopt?"

"Tempting, but where would you keep them?"

"They could sleep in my room-"

She breaks off when she notices him laughing. "What?"

"N- nothing," Cole replies, in between laughs. "Jay and I just made a bet."

"On what?"

"How many dragons you've adopted. I bet at least six, he bet fifteen."

"Well, jokes on both of you - I'm pretty sure my advisor's going to throw a fit if I show up with another one," she starts, giggling. "We've got twenty living in the palace right now."

"Twenty dragons?"

"They're so cute! You just look into their adorable little eyes," Vania pauses for breath, continuing her animated gesturing, "and you can't help but wanna hug them!"

"Oh, Jay's going to be so mad."

"Aww, I'm sorry guys. They're just too adorable!"

"...Wanna hear a funny story?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"I actually used to be terrified of dragons-"

"No way!" Vania exclaims. "Y'all have been on a lot of adventures though, so-"

"Nah, we used to have our own dragons at first. They were pretty cool! I just- I'm a simple guy! Huge animals with wings are scary up close when you're barely a teenager."

"Or when you're really short-"

"We're the same height!" Cole exclaims, facepalming in a bit of a fondly exasperated way.

"I'm two years younger than you-"

---

"Ugh, whose idea was this?"

"Yours," Vania grins, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"You were supposed to help me, not leave me high and dry!" Cole accuses jokingly, staring at all the appliances they'd found in the cupboards.

"'One must always be prepared for new adventures,'" she quotes seamlessly, waving one of- what was his name again? Mulch something? Oh! Clutch! Some explorer he was, leaving them to die in the pyramid - Clutch Powers' books in the air.

"Fine," he sighs, staring at the old recipe book she'd found in one of their back cupboards. "But you've gotta help me? I almost burned down-" "Woah, what? If you finish that sentence with 'kitchen'-" "In my defense, Kai was playing a prank on me-" "In my defense, I wouldn't like to explain how the queen of Shintaro burnt down the palace by teaching one of her friends to cook," she grins, flipping through the pages. "What do you wanna start with?" "Something simple?" "Have you ever tried baking bread before? It's a lot of fun!" "I haven't really had the time, but that sounds kinda interesting."

He skims the recipe, raising his eyebrows. "Wait, why does this take hours? I thought you said it was simple?"

"Trust me, it is," she laughs, adding, "besides, I still wanna hear about all your adventures!" "Uh... okay," Cole replies hesitantly, "but if this fails, I'm so sorry." "Give yourself some credit, you guys literally saved the world! Multiple times!" "Bold of y'all to assume we know how we did it," he laughs, only half-kidding. "Besides. I botched soup once."

"I've botched toast," she mock-sighs, smiling. "Pretty sure that makes us even."

"Lemme get this straight. You've messed up toasting bread, but you can bake it from scratch?"

"Trust me, I don't know either," she giggles, trying to open a brightly coloured packet of... something? Did flour come in packets that small?

"Uh, why are you opening something called 'feast'?" he asks, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Feast," she echoes, trying to stifle her laughter. "Off to a... rocky start, aren't we?"

It took him a second.

"I already regret this," he jokes, facepalming. "But I'd say that your puns are, uh, gold."

"I've un- unleashed-" breaking off, she half-falls off the counter, laughing so hard her face starts to go red, "a monster."

---

"Uh, is it supposed to look like that?" Cole asks, frowning.

The mixture looked less like the dough he'd been expecting - more like one of Jay's inventions gone wrong.

Badly wrong, he thought, eyes widening at the goopy mess of foam that threatened to spill over the jug.

"The yeast?" Vania echoes, poking her head out of one of the cupboards. "Yeah, all good! It always looks a little gross, and you're gonna doubt ever eating bread again, but at least it doesn't taste like it's fermented-"

"It's what?"

"Yeah," she grimaces, exaggerating her disgust a bit. "If aliens ever fell from the sky, they'd think we were crazy for eating bread-"

"Aliens? I think we're a bit crazy!" Cole exclaims, trying not to laugh.

Vania smiles, then sighs, lugging a huge bag of flour onto the counter. "I can never open these bags properly," she starts, eyeing the the bag a bit warily, "and it always makes such a huge mess all over the kitchen. You'd think they'd make it easier for people to use, right? I swear-"

He jokingly puts his hands over his ears. "I can't hear you!" "But you know that I've sworn off swearing-" she replies, breaking off with a laugh. "Pun not intended - that actually made sense in my head. I swear!"

"No," Cole interjects with a grin, shaking his head. "You don't, remember?"

"See, this is why we're friends-"

"Friends? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, be quiet," she shoots back, exaggeratedly dragging a hand down her face. "I mean, sure, just because everyone thinks that we're dating doesn't mean that we-"

Wait. What?

"People think that we're dating?" he asks, clamping a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle his laughter. "I- I- really?"

"I know, right?"

"Even my friends thought so at first," he confesses, dragging a hand down his face. "I mean, as much as I love you-"

"I love you too," Vania replies, completely seriously. "Even if you'll always be more like an annoying-"

"Hey-"

"Sibling to me than anything else," she finishes, grabbing a pair of scissors. Cole watches, a little alarmed, as she stabs them into the flour bag over and over.

"Is it... supposed to be this difficult to just open the bag? Seems kinda stupid-"

"Well, er, they have this piece of paper with glue that you're supposed to pull away from the rest of the bag, but it never works properly and I-"

"Well, we could always make our own flour," Cole interjects, laughing. "I mean, I've got a scythe? Let's go!"

"Uh, but we don't have wheat growing here. I don't think it'd suit the climate very well?"

"Wheat a shame," Cole sighs jokingly, measuring out the flour (which had, finally, escaped the bag).

"Oh my gosh," Vania deadpans, "you did not just-"

"Yep, I did."

"You're horrible," she giggles, "then again, I was the one who started this whole debacle, so I think we'll share the blame."

"Debacle? Where'd you pick that one up from? Sounds kinda cool-"

"Oh, it's from a book someone wrote about you guys," Vania says casually, pouring a cup of water into the bowl.

"Hey, uh-" Cole starts hesitantly, twisting his fingers back and forth, then breaks off. "Why'd you read all that stuff about us, anyways? Adventure books don't really seem like something you read a lot, since we have similar favorite books. I mean..."

"Well, um..." Vania trails off, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh- I guess, well, it sounds kinda stupid, but I'd never really met anyone my age who wasn't a royal or something. I... er, I didn't want to be left out, you know?"

Cole thinks back to a scroll; a quest, a sacrifice. One that his friends never seemed to really notice, unless it was with horror or flinches. Not that he blamed them, but - joking about how he was much more useful to the team when he was freaking dead than he was before he'd stumbled and fell in the temple?

That had been a bit far, even for his best friend. Locks could always be picked or something, he didn't need to be a ghost to provide some sort of value-

Well, that's not completely true, is it? a small voice questions, and he can't keep his hands from shaking a little.

"Jay here thinks you're the least valuable ninja."

Not enough to be a performer. Now, not good enough to even be a ninja, apparently.

Well, he reminds himself firmly, you don't have to be the best - just stand up to those who are cruel and unjust.

Nothing but a scar that glowed warm orange occasionally left of the whole Cursed Realm ordeal, sometimes it was all too easy to forget - or pretend - that it had never even happened in the first place.

Other times, like when he'd dropped a glass of water on the floor and his hands hadn't stopped shaking for hours, or when he woke up screaming, expecting to fall through his bed again, it still felt like he was trapped as a ghost. Literally - and maybe a little figuratively as well.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

"Thanks for trusting me with that," he replies softly. "And I'm sorry. That sounds... horrible, but, honestly, you're a pretty cool person, and I ain't just saying that because we're friends. People can be awful, and they can- they can leave, but you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not for people to accept you. I kinda know what it's like, and it's... just, uh, not great."

"No, thank you," Vania says, rubbing her eyes. "You're pretty cool, too. And I'm glad that we become friends, even if wasn't in the- the, er, greatest circumstances."

"Right back at ya. The fall was pretty terrifying, though," Cole says casually, as if memories of that nightmarish plunge into the depths of earth don't still send shivers down his spine.

"No, definitely! I was so sure we were gonna splat onto the ground or something, thank gosh we didn't."

"Yeah..." Cole trails off, reading the recipe they'd been following. "Oh- do we just leave the bowl somewhere for a few hours now?"

"Oh, yeah," Vania answers. "Other than clean up the kitchen, what else do you wanna do?"

"That's kind of you, but, ah, I don't mind. You can choose something."

"I don't mind either," she replies, covering the bowl with a dishcloth. "Seriously, I don't."

"Same here though."

"Really, I don't mind-" Vania breaks off with a laugh, adding, "Well, actually, there is something."

She doesn't elaborate, thoughtfully gazing out the window.

"Well, what is it? Don't keep me in the dark."

"Ugh, it's kinda stupid-"

"I'm sure that it's not- well, unless you want to try to jump off a flying ship with a homemade parachute to prove a bet to someone-"

"Do I even wanna know?"

"...uh, probably not. We're way too crazy sometimes, our Master has a hard time keeping us in check. Your thing, though?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

Cole blinks for a second, expecting some sort of punchline.

"That's your thing?"

"Well, yeah- I mean, I said it was kinda stupid-"

"No no, that's not what I meant. You're so sweet - that's all."

"Well, not more than you-"

"Nah, you're sweeter-"

"Let's just call it a tie," Vania says with a smile, reaching over to give her friend a hug. "Thank you so much, I swear- well, no, I don't, but you know, anyways-"

"Yeah," Cole replies, laughing softly. "I know."

[kitty0boy]

More Marichat fanfiction because I’m obsessed.

It’s set a bit in the future so Adrien is 18 and Marinette is 17. Chat is grown up and can use multiple cataclysms but Marinette isn’t yet (I think the age will be 18 so yeah). It’s also reverse love square, so Ladybug is in love with Chat and Adrien is in love with Marinette

———————————

Another day, another akuma. Recently, Hawkmoth had toned down on the frequency of Akumas, maybe he supposed that he would only akumatize the more powerful emotions and oh boy, was this one really mad.

His name was Trickster, his power was shapeshifting. Doesn’t seem very destructive at first but he can turn himself into anything his little heart desires. From blood sucking mosquitoes to giants straight out of a fairy tale to a frog? This guy could do it all. The problem was, what couldn’t he do? How would they stop him?

She was running a little late to the action, who knew getting away from class during a life threatening disaster would be so difficult. Spotting her beloved partner, she landed beside him. “What have we got today kitty?”

“Just your average asshole Ladybug.” He muttered obviously angry.

“You know this guy?” She asked, why was he so mad about this one?

“Not purrsonsly, he was harassing women on the street, following them around. That is until he was called out for it and arrested.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be the one to correct his behaviour, would you?” Silence. She looked up at him, oh he looked seriously ticked off.

She quickly changed the subject. “Well let’s take care of this quickly. Any idea where his akuma is?”

“His camera maybe, or his phone.” He clenched his fists. “Mon dieu what a creep.”

“Alright let’s get a closer look then shall we?”

He nodded before he extended his baton towards the now troll running down the street. His giant club dragging along the ground behind him leaving an indent every time it bounced off the pavement. Without warning he whipped around and threw it into the air, catching on Ladybug’s yo-yo and sending her flying backwards. Twisting mid air she grabbed onto a street lamp, saving her face from scraping the road. Then she was off again, swinging from roof to roof towards the, what was he now? A Yeti?

“Lucky Charm!” She called and down dropped a baseball? Seriously?

She looked everywhere but couldn’t find what to use it for. She raced around looking for its purpose but nothing came into view. “Come on, come on.” She panicked.

Cat looked over, noticing her struggling. “How much time do you have left?”

“Two minutes! I need more time.” She was shaking now, she couldn’t afford to detransform now. It was too dangerous.

“Got it, brace yourself little bug!” Raising his arm in the air he called for his “Cataclysm!” And pressed his hand to the ground creating a giant crater under Trickster’s feet. He only sunk about 2 feet before becoming a raven and flying high above them. So much for getting more time. She had no choice but to leave. She tossed her lucky charm to Chat Noir and hoped he got the message, he looked over to her and nodded before using his baton like a baseball bat launching the ball at Trickster. Well at least the Lucky Charm had some use. She ran until her last dot beeped and slipped into an empty alleyway.

“That was a close one Tikki, I can’t wait until I grow up.” Tikki flew into her purse and pulled out a cookie. “Don’t worry Marinette, you’ll grow up soon. In the meantime Chat Noir will cover for you.” Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of him. “Yeah, I wonder how old he is.”

“Marinette you can’t know each other’s-“

“Identities I know” she cut off “I just want to know when I will be old enough.” Tikki scrunched her face in contemplation, “18” she said, decided it was ok.

“Really! That’s so soon, oh I can’t wait!” She exclaimed. A little too loudly apparently. She heard footsteps, she needed to transform but Tikki wasn’t ready yet. “Hide Tikki.” She whispered before pulling out her phone. Using the camera, she peeked around the corner only to see a tiger creeping towards her. She gasped slightly as she moved backwards, trying not to make any noise. That was when she heard a small thump behind her and a hand covered her mouth. Before she could scream she felt him lean towards her ear “It’s me.” He whispered before scooping her up quietly and trying to figure out how to escape. Marinette looked around and spotted a window on the second floor of the building beside them. He caught on and calling for another cataclysm, reduced the glass to ash. He lifted her inside before climbing up himself.

“Follow.” He instructed before creeping towards the back of the office building. They found an elevator and before he could press the button she grabbed his shoulder, which made him turn around. She pulled him down to whisper in his ear. “Wouldn’t an elevator be too loud kitty?” He paused thinking, “What do you propose?” She looked over his other shoulder and saw a staircase. “We take the stairs.”

“That might take too long, we have to get you out of here fast.”

“You have superpowers Chat, it shouldn’t take that long if you carry me.” His cat ear twitched and without warning he wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her off the ground making a beeline for the stairs. The stairs were those kind of box-y spiral staircases so standing between the gap, he extended his baton causing them to shoot upwards, as if they were in an elevator. She had to tuck her head into his shoulder to avoid smacking it on the bottom of each flight. Reaching the top he put his baton away and wrapped both his arms around her, one behind her back, which caused her to blush, and one under her thighs.

And they were off, though he didn’t get very far before a pigeon started to follow them. She spotted it but wasn’t sure if it was him. “Take a left!” She yelled over the wind and he did, so did the bird. When it turned, a flash of light blinded her but he was still a pigeon. The light came from his foot, which could only mean, she gasped “Chat, he’s wearing a ring! That’s where the akuma is!”

“As helpful as that is purrincess, I can’t do anything until I make sure you’re safe. We’ve gotta get him off my tail.” He huffed in frustration, or from exhaustion. One of the two

She looked around before an idea came to her.

“Cat the sewer system! We need to get down. That way he can’t sniff us out!”

“Got it, hold on tight!”

He quickly pulled something out of his pocket. A blue slice of cheese and popping it into his mouth. He repositioned her so he was carrying her bridal style. “Power up!” He yelled. She felt his hand leave her legs before he twisted around and jumped off the roof, they were going to splat on the road! “Cataclysm!” He growled before extending his hand backwards towards the ground. It made contact with the pavement and it crumbled beneath his hand, they fell straight through the street and she heard him grunt as his back collided with the water. She held her breath. This was gross, something pressed to her lips and she grabbed it inhaling. He started kicking his feet swimming with the current. She had to keep her eyes closed. Luckily it had rained the day before so the water wasn’t just garbage. It was just as disgusting as you’d think it is, but if she had to choose between death and garbage water, this was her best bet. He took a leap before they left the water. Laying side by side. She propped herself up on her elbow and took the baton out of her mouth. Cringing at the stench, she peeled her shirt away from her body, jeez this sucked.

“Sorry Marinette, I was hoping we’d land on the floor.” He panted, she reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s ok, I’d take sewer water with you over death any day.

Was he blushing, or were his cheeks tinged from the cold water? Catching his breath he stood and held a hand out to her. She took it and stood. He smiled at her and she smiled back. “Claws in” he whispered “Woah woah woah!” She covered her eyes quickly and turned around. He chuckled behind her “Relax m’lady, I just took off my power up.” M’lady? Isn’t that what he called Ladybug? She felt her face grow hot under her hands. “I thought Ladybug was your lady?” She said before she could stop herself. He stammered “O-oh right my bad. I guess the cat got My tongue.” She chuckled slightly before turning around to smile at him, he smiled back and she felt little akumas flutter around her stomach. He eyes drifted from his to his lips. Was he wearing chapstick? What did it taste like? Ugh snap out of it Marinette, there’s an akuma! “Thank you kitty, I’ll be safe down here.”

“I’m not convinced. You’re still out in the open, even if you’re down here. It might be risky to leave you here.” He raised a claw to his chin, trying to decide if he wanted her to stay there.

“Purrhaps if a certain superhero was distracting him, he would leave me alone.” She grinned at her clever wording. She wasn’t usually the type to make puns, but she had to admit, they were kinda fun.

He giggled a little at her pun ‘adorable’ she thought. “You’re right, just please stay safe ok, find a place to hide.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumb brushed over her collar bone and made her blush. “O-ok I will.” She stammered a little breathless. Seriously? She thought she got over the stammering a long time ago. Suddenly, a gloves hand brushed across her forehead before she felt something soft press against it. He pulled back and gave his signature salute before sprinting away from her. Her hand came up to touch the spot where his lips were seconds ago, her face burned and she knew it was as red as her super suit.

“Marinette focus! We’ve got an akuma to capture!” Tikki squeaked. Marinette jumped a little, she completely forgot Tikki was there.

She smacked both sides of her face with her hands “Right! Tikki spots on!” She ran towards an opening, and leapt out, following the trail of footprints no doubt left by the akuma.

She saw Chat Noir pinned to a wall under a bent street lamp, he couldn’t reach it with his hand. The giant shrunk down and changed into an elephant and using its trunk, it made to grab Chat’s miraculous. He almost grabbed it, until her yo-yo wrapped around the trunk and launched him into the building across the street. She ran over to Chat and using all of her strength she pulled the street lamp off of him.

“Thanks bug, the akuma is in his ring.” ‘Bug’ she thought

“Ok then, let’s hope it works this time. Lucky Charm!” And down fell another baseball, the same as before.

“Maybe it was the location last time?” He reasoned.

But she still couldn’t see anything. Was her power broken? “I’ll figure it out, can you provide a distraction?” She asked, “Gladly.” He smiled reassuringly before sprinting towards Trickster.

‘Look at your wrist.’ She had no idea where the thought came from, was that Tikki? She looked down and saw a little bracelet with a loop on it, almost like the loops on a bra. She stared at it curiously “Look out!” She heard before her partner tackled her to the ground. “I don’t know what is interesting about your arm, but please figure it out soon.” He stood and using his baton as a shield, he repelled what looked like water balloons. They were launched back at the akuma who dodged each one, they exploded when they broke.

Chat’s baton flashed red with black spots, it was working! She looked around, the bracelet flashed, and so did her yo-yo and then she saw it. Her yo-yo had a little hook carved into it. She slipped the hook into the loop on the bracelet and the yo-yo spun out into a proper shield. “That’s new.” She exclaimed. Suddenly the vision of Chat using his baton like a baseball bat popped into her head. The solution hit her, “Chat I know what to do!” She yelled leaping out from behind him. The akuma transformed into a giant again and Chat looked at her, “Batter up kitty!” She yelled before pitching the ball to him. He got the idea and hit the ball back to her. She repositioned and angled the shield towards the akuma’s hand. It made contact with the shield and the giant tried to hit it away, but not before it cracked the ring and the akuma fluttered away.

She captured it “bye bye little butterfly!” Throwing the baseball into the air she yelled “Miraculous Ladybug!” And the streets looked good as new.

“Pound it!” The duo said with a fist bump.

The police arrived just in time and arrested the man. “Oh come on I didn’t even do anything wrong! It’s not a crime to take pictures!” He pleaded, “It is to take pictures of people without their consent!” Chat retorted before the door closed and the cruiser sped off.

A small beep came from her earrings, “I’ve gotta go Chat Noir, I’m proud of you though.” She smiled before hooking her yo-yo onto a chimney. “What for?” He asked. “For standing up for those women, being cat-called and followed is terrifying, those women wouldn’t get justice if you hadn’t stepped in. I’m sure they appreciated it very much. Bug out!” She yelled before taking off.

She landed close to where Chat left her and detransformed. “You figured it out! Oh I knew you would.” Tikki came up to hug her cheek. “Figured what out?”

“Your yo-yo can change functions! You figured out how to turn it into a shield today. Chat can do the same thing with his baton.” She explained. Maybe they should experiment on patrol tomorrow then, versatility of their weapons would really help with defeating Hawkmoth. Tikki squeaked suddenly and flew into her purse.

Marinette stood confused before she heard a thud beside her and was encircled by a pair of very strong arms. “There you are, you’re ok.” Chat pulled back and smiled at her.

“Of course I am, I’m a good hider.” She said and put her hands on her hips. He chuckled slightly and crossed his arms.

“What were you doing so close anyways?” He asked, “I uh was getting footage for the Ladyblog.” She lied, he furrowed his brows and stood up straight, “That’s really dangerous Marinette, especially with how strong Hawkmoth is now. You can’t be running around chasing after super villains anymore.”

She looked to the ground, even though it was a lie, hearing him disappointed in her still didn’t feel good.

He sighed before lifting her chin. “I just don’t want you to get hurt Mari, today was a close call. If I hadn’t found you who knows what would have happened. Just promise you won’t chase after Akumas anymore.”

“I promise, I’m sorry.” She said

“It’s ok, besides, if it’s footage you want, I’ve got a camera on my suit.” He said calmly. “Wait really? Where?” She was curious now, did her suit have a camera too? He reached up and flicked the bell on his neck. He lifted his chin as she stood on her toes to get a closer look, sure enough, there was a little camera peeking out from the slit in his bell.

“Woah that’s so cool! And helpful. You should tell Alya, that might make her back off.” Maybe Ladybug should tell Alya too, footage from not one but two superheroes! Besides, maybe they could analyze that footage and see where the akumas come from. “So now that that’s sorted, would like a lift back to school? Lunch just ended didn’t it?” Oh shoot she forgot! “Yeah a ride would be great! I’ve got a-“ she paused in confusion, why did his face turn crimson? Oh mon dieu, she really needed to work on her wording. Her face also grew hot with embarrassment and she looked away from him.

He cleared his throat, “Ok then let’s go.” He turned around and kneeled so she could climb onto his back, that was probably a good idea.

She wrapped her arms around his neck again and he stood holding her thighs for support. In one leap they were on the roof tops running towards her school.

Alya was waiting at the front for her and gasped when she saw the best friend on the back of one of Paris’ superheroes.

“Delivery for a Ms. Cesaire?” He joked, “That would be me.” She teased back Marinette slid off his back and was immediately tackled in a bear hug by Alya, “Where were you girl! We were worried sick!”

“I went to get footage for you, it was clearly a bad idea.” She said for consistency. “Oh Mari, you don’t have to do that for me, if I want footage, I’ll go get it myself.”

“Well in my opinion,” Chat cut in “Marinette’s technique is much more subtle than yours. I guess it just didn’t work out today.” Marinette puffed up her chest and gave a triumphant “Hmph” and the three of them burst into laughter.

“Well I’d better get going.” He said,

“Let me guess,” she put on her best Chat impression “Damsels in distress, ladies in waiting, you’ve got a lot more saving to do,” she mimicked “I can thank you, later?” He laughed at that, “I’m surprised you remember that, look out Ms. Blogger, you got competition for Chat Noir’s #1 fan.”

“A battle that was lost long ago kitten, between you and me, her sketchbook is filled with outfits inspired by your,” she raised a hand dramatically to her forehead “beauty.” She finished, “ALYA!” Marinette squeaked.

He laughed “Well I am honoured purrincess.” He bowed before turning around and grabbing his baton to leave. Something burned inside her and without thinking she walked towards him. “Chat wait!” She nearly yelled, as he turned around she tripped and grabbed his bell trying to pull herself upright.

She meant to kiss him on the cheek, she swears! But he’d turned his face towards her and her lips crashed into his. He was caught off guard but quickly kissed her back, reaching up to caress her cheek with his hand.

Realizing what was happening she pulled back and felt her face go hot again. “Uh I, thank you for saving me.” She mumbled and rubbed her forearm. She looked up at his face, which was tinged a pretty shade of pink. He reached up and ruffled her hair, “Anytime Marinette.” There was something about the way he said her name that caused little butterflies to flutter in her stomach and chest again. He gave her a wink before leaping off.

“Ok girl spill!” Marinette jumped and turned to see Alya holding her phone. “Alya did you take a picture!” She squeaked. “I won’t post it, this is just for me. Ooh maybe I’ll send it to Chat too.”

Her face burned as Alya led her back to class.

—————————————

Thanks for reading!

[winterrose527]

person a is afraid of flying, person b offers to hold their hand. for robbcella?

Oh my gosh sorry for the delay on writing this. It was so fun and obviously turned out far longer than expected as always.

***

Okay. It’ll be fine. It’ll totally, one hundred percent, be fine. There is nothing to be concerned about. You’re just going to put your things above the seat, in the overhead – ooh nope you’re not. Too heavy, too high –

“Do you need help with that?” a voice cut into her sad little slow motion panic attack.

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” she said, the way she always did when men offered the taxis they’d just hailed for themselves to her, “I’ve-I’ve got it.”

She went to lift her carry-on, but someone must have filled it with rocks because when she tried to lift it over her head it ended up hitting her in the face.

“You uh… sure about that?” the man asked. “Please.”

“Okay, thank you,” she agreed.

The suitcase was out of her hands in a moment and settled safely in the overhead bin.

When it was no longer in front of his face she saw that it was… quite a face. Piercing blue eyes framed by thick, long lashes. A strong nose, square jaw, perfect pouty lips.

She realized after a moment that she’d been staring at him, and her embarrassment was only slightly mitigated by the fact that he’d been staring at her too.

“Can you guys move?” an exasperated traveler asked behind them.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed.

The man gestured to the row of seats, “I’m the window, unless you’d prefer it.”

She shook her head, “No, no, aisle is better for me.”

He looked at her as though he’d heard the nerves in her voice but he nodded and went and sat in the window seat, putting his backpack underneath the seat in front of him but pulling out one of those books by an author that was always sold in airports and train stations. She settled in next to him, taking her bottle of water, headphones and cell phone, and her own weathered paperback out of her bag before pushing it under the seat in front of her.

She buckled immediately, taking a sip of water and then checked her phone. She had a text from Shireen.

Everything will be fine, I’ll see you soon!

She smiled and typed back: I think that’s supposed to be my line, you’re really failing at this whole bridezilla thing. See you soon, xo.

Myrcella put her phone on airplane mode and tried to open her book to distract herself. Instead she read the same sentence of the same paragraph six times without retaining any of it so she closed the book, drumming her fingers on it lightly.

She saw the man glancing at her and realized she was probably being annoying.

“Sorry,” she said, sitting on her hands so that she’d stop.

“That’s okay,” he shook his head, “I like that song.”

She smirked and nodded, taking another sip of water and then looking around. It looked like everyone had settled in and unfortunately it didn’t seem like there was anything wrong with the engine so they’d likely be taking off soon.

This was proven true when the captain started making his announcements and she heard the propellers start going.

She thought about the exercises her mother’s life guru Luwin had tried to teach her. Imagining herself as the pilot.

But I don’t know how to fly a plane!

She stopped that and just focused on her breathing and trying to think logically. Realistically, they were going to be fine. She understood that.

But while she could mind over matter practically anything else, this was the one exception.

“Afraid of flying?” someone broke into her thoughts.

It wasn’t the guy who’d sat next to her, but a kindly looking older woman across the aisle.

“A little,” she agreed.

“Do you want a diazepam?” the woman asked, holding up a little bottle and shaking it slightly.

She heard the guy sitting next to her cough, though it sounded more like he was disguising a laugh.

“No, thank you though, ma’am,” she said and then turned away.

“You know um, realistically the chances of our plane going down are-,” he started.

“Well my grandmother died in a plane crash, so,” she interrupted him.

She leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes, as she felt them starting to move down the runway. She gripped the armrests.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry,” he said, “Really?”

“No,” she grimaced, her breath coming less easily now, “That’s just what I always say to people when they pull out statistics. Apparently it’s my way of offsetting my own discomfort.”

“Or maybe it’s just your way of telling people to mind their own business,” he suggested.

She opened her eyes and found that he was looking at her in concern.

“I won’t pass out or throw up or anything,” she promised him.

He nodded, “That’s good, why don’t you drink some water?”

“You don’t have to help,” she told him, “You can just um… read that book and ignore the hyperventilating woman beside you. I’ll be okay when we’re in the air.”

He looked at her again and then turned to the book and then back to her, “The only problem with that is that I really don’t want to read this book.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “Then why did you buy it?”

“I always buy one when I’m getting on a flight for more than an hour so I can pretend to read it and ignore the person sitting next to me,” he noted.

She nodded and then pointed out, “You shouldn’t have told me, now you can’t use that trick on me.”

He scratched his cheek, smirking down at the book, “Yeah well maybe I don’t want to.” She realized absently that he was hitting on her but that was sort of overshadowed by the fact that the plane was speeding up, “Look um, we’re about to take off here. Do you want to close your eyes or um… I could talk you through it or… I don’t know, I could at least hold your hand? Mine’s clean, I promise and um… well I had to help my sister in the delivery room so it’s really used to being squeezed.”

She looked at him, and her voice was small when she asked, “You did?”

He nodded, resting his hand on the arm rest, his palm facing upwards and open, and he glanced at it and then back at her, “Come on, I’ll tell you all about it.”

The plane was really speeding now so she slipped her hand into his. Which was large and warm without being clammy. She should have wiped her own on her pants, she realized but he didn’t seem to mind as he interlaced their fingers. She felt the wheels start to lift and her knuckles went white she was squeezing his hand so hard.

“Okay so my sister, Sansa is married to one of my best friends, Jon. They wanted children right away,” he shook his head, “Which we were all pretty surprised about. Anyway, Sansa is about eight months pregnant and they find out that Jon’s mentor – honestly more of a father figure than anything else – who lives up on Bear Island – is sick. Like really sick. He’s telling Jon not to go, that he’ll be fine, and Jon doesn’t want to leave Sansa, but Sansa being Sansa convinces him that he has to because you know, it’s his Dad basically, right?”

“Right,” she nodded, because it seemed like he wanted to make sure she was still with him.

“So anyway,” he went on, “I’m at the office in a meeting late one night and I get a call from Sansa, telling me that she thinks her water broke. I’ve got like, twenty junior employees looking at me as I have a full blown meltdown -,” she hadn’t realized that she’d giggled until he stopped and grinned at her, “It wasn’t pretty. But I’m running out of there like a bat out of hell and calling Jon on my way to go get her. At this point, Mormont’s really bad, but he and Jon have said the things they needed to say and made their peace with it, but of course there is a huge storm.”

“Every good story needs a huge storm,” she noted.

He grinned at her, “I agree. And this one was a doozy. So it became pretty clear that Jon was not going to make it home, and of course he is freaking out because it’s only been a little over eight months and you know um, you don’t know him but this is not the sort of guy that like… handles not being able to be there for Sansa well? Like if he could have given birth he a hundred percent would have and I know that’s easy to say since like… he can’t but he seriously would have. The man loses his mind when she’s got a slight fever. So you can imagine that he was just… anyway. I go get Sansa and take her to the hospital. And it’s early so you know there’s um, a lot of attention on her and everything. But she’s just… calm. I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s just calm. She’s listening to the doctors and she’s telling Jon that everything’s going to be fine and then for a minute it’s just us in the delivery room,” he shook his head and it almost seemed like his eyes were smarting and she squeezed his hand. He looked down at it for a second and then squeezed it back and went on, “And she looked at me and she said, Robby, it’s time to call in my big favor. And I realized then how scared she really was and after that it sort of um… became easy? I guess, to be calm. Because she needed me to be so… anyway, she squeezed the shit out of my hand for five hours and then my nephew was born.”

“Happy and heathy?” she wondered.

He smiled, “Happy and healthy and howling… do you want to hear the weird bit?”

“Has anyone ever said no to that question?” she wondered.

His eyes smiled though he didn’t and he said, “We called Jon to give him the good news, and after the appropriate celebrating, he gave us the bad news. Mormont had died minutes – we later found out a minute – before the baby was born,” she felt a shiver run down her spine and he squeezed her hand, “I know. So, when it came time to name him, Joer was the only option, really.”

“Wow,” she agreed, “That is quite a story.”

He smiled at her and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, “How are you doing?”

She looked around and realized that they were in the air securely. The fasten seatbelt sign was even turned off.

“Oh I’m sorry!” she went to pull her hand back.

“Don’t be, you’re far gentler than Sansa,” he told her and she bit her lip to hide her smile, “And I’ll let go if you promise to grab it if you need to.”

Now that they weren’t barreling down the runway, she was able to notice just how blue his eyes were.

“Promise,” she said.

He didn’t let her hand go right away, and she didn’t let go of his so quickly either. Their fingers relaxed against one another’s, and she dragged her hand ever so slightly against his. He shivered and she looked at him.

“You alright?” she wondered.

“Fine,” he nodded, looking down at their hands briefly, “And I’m Robb, by the way.”

“Myrcella,” she introduced herself, “Thank you, I know I said you didn’t need to help, but you really did.”

“My pleasure,” he told her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to pretend to read that book?” she asked, “I won’t be offended.”

He looked at her and then at the book and then placed it in the pocket in front of him.

“So what brings you to Dragonstone, Myrcella?” he asked.

“Wedding, my cousin’s,” she told him. “How about you?”

“Engagement party,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “Sansa and Jon and baby Joer will be there, too.”

“That’s exciting,” she smiled, “I can’t wait to be an Aunt. Not sure how good of a mother I’d be, but I feel like I could really excel at the whole Auntie thing.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked her, “Are you going to be the fun aunt –“

“Obviously,” she interrupted.

He chuckled, and nodded, “Obviously.”

And so it went. They talked about the different things they wanted to do with their respective (mostly hypothetical) nieces and nephews. How long they’d each lived in the Riverlands (since university, for him, two years, for her). She told him about the beach he had to get to while on Dragonstone, where he could eat the best lobster roll of his whole life.

When it came time for their descent, neither of them said a thing about it, but his hand took hold of hers and they kept talking.

“Look, um, Myrcella,” he started, “Don’t feel any pressure or anything, I mean, this could just be the most enjoyable flight of my life and leave it at that but I’d regret not asking so… is there any chance I could take you out when we both get back?”

She’d been hoping he’d ask, but she shook her head, “No… but I’d love to take you out as a thank you for getting me through it.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and laughed, “That was meaner than the dead grandmother thing.”

She grinned, “I’m sorry,” and then pulled out her phone and handed it to him.

He put in his number and now that she could take her phone off of airplane mode she texted him so that he had hers. It was unlike her, usually she’d play harder to get.

Then again, usually she was less interested in being caught.

***

She was still thinking about him as she straightened the hem of Shireen’s gown.

When she stood up, all thoughts escaped her apart from one.

“You are the most beautiful bride this world has ever seen,” she told her.

“By a very wide margin,” Gendry agreed at her side. “And the most mischievous. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

Shireen giggled, “We wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You told her,” Gendry reminded her.

“Well duh, she’s my maid of honor,” Shireen said, looking at her with tears in her eyes and holding out her hand, “And the closest thing to a sister I’ll ever have.”

“Don’t,” Myrcella pleaded, squeezing her hand, “Your make up is perfect.”

Shireen laughed, though in truth she cared little for her make up. She really was the worst bridezilla ever. Low maintenance was the only way to describe her.

She hadn’t wanted the hoopla that went with planning a big wedding, so instead had invited everyone for an engagement party which in a few minutes they’d all learn was actually the wedding.

Shireen looked up at Gendry, “You’ll give me away, right?”

Gendry glanced at her before nodding at Shireen, “Of course I will.”

Neither of them said what they wanted to. That her Dad should have been there. Even if it was a surprise wedding, even if he didn’t know, he should have been at her engagement party.

“Perfect,” Shireen said, looking in the mirror and fixing her veil, “Alright, I’m ready. Myrcella you can head out as soon as you start hearing the music, and then we’ll follow. Ooh and remind me afterwards that I wanted to introduce you to Theon’s best man.”

Myrcella laughed and kissed her cousin on the cheek, “Why don’t you focus on getting yourself married and then you can work on me getting married.”

Besides, what are the chances that his best man will be a better one than Robb?

Shireen agreed and Myrcella grabbed the bouquet of wildflowers that she never would think to use for her own wedding but which were beautiful and perfect for the laidback, seaside wedding this was.

The music started, a single violinist playing an instrumental version of the old school hip hop song that Shireen had declared was her and Theon’s song, as it was playing on the radio in the car right after their first big fight.

Someone else had told the guests a few minutes earlier that they were actually here for a wedding, so they were standing on either side of an aisle, though it was clear there was no rhyme or reason to it, no bride’s side or groom’s side, exactly as it should be.

She walked down the short aisle and smiled at Theon as she settled across from him. Out of curiosity she glanced behind him at his best man, who was grinning at her from ear to ear.

Because of course it was him.

She’d almost asked, the name of the person whose engagement party it was, but there’d been so many other things to talk about and it had slipped her mind.

Only Shireen walking down the aisle could have torn her gaze from Robb’s blue eyes and she fought tears as she saw the way Theon’s heart seemed to stop when he saw her.

Their vows were simple, and sweet, and funny, and fifteen minutes later, Shireen Greyjoy walked back down the aisle on the arm of her husband.

Robb should have offered her his arm, but instead he held out his hand which she took readily, their fingers interlacing as though well practiced in it.

“I thought you were here for an engagement party,” she teased.

He chuckled, “If I wasn’t so happy to see you, I’d be pissed that clearly you made the cut for knowing it was actually a wedding and I didn’t.”

She smiled, “If it helps, Shireen is dying to set us up.”

“Yeah, Theon assured me that there was no way the chick I met on the plane was hotter than you,” he grinned. Then his eyes wandered over her, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you,” she looked up into his blue eyes, made brighter by his navy blue suit, “So do you.”

And it was clear then, as clearer than anything ever had been though it made little sense at all, that one day this would be a part of the family lore, just like him holding his sister’s hand in the delivery room. Over the years they’d perfect it, this story, that they’d have to tell over and over again that night, interlacing parts of it as seamlessly as their fingers.

When he pulled her out onto the dance floor and into his arms, it seemed like he knew it too.

“So I know I said I wanted to take you out when we were back home,” he noted, “But I’ve heard there’s a pretty good lobster roll around here… It’s not the most glamorous first date or anything but…”

She laughed, “Well then this can be our first date. A lobster roll feels like a perfect second one. When do you fly back?”

“Sunday night, the seven o’clock flight,” he told her.

She smiled, “Me too. So that can be our third date.”

“Our third date on an airplane, hmm,” he mused in a voice that sent a shiver down her spine.

She wondered if he was thinking what she was. All those expectations that came with a third date.

Though in truth given that they were at a wedding where the alcohol was flowing freely and he was looking at her like that while he was looking like that, she doubted she’d be following the three date rule.

Even still, the mile-high club lingered in the air between them.

“Well,” she looked up at him, “You’ll have to find some way to distract me. I’m terribly afraid of flying, you know.”

He grinned, and pulled her closer to him, his lips against her ear, “Oh it’d be my pleasure to help.”

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 15 (finally) ((oops)) !!!!!

First  • Previous  • Here  • Next

Oh my god you guys. I’m really sorry for saying yesterday and then not making the update (But on a better note I passed that final!!!!!!) and because of how hellish this week promises to be i’m not gonna make any other attempts at promising updates. I will say that my school isn’t normally near this hectic, so things should calm down come Sunday. Hopefully.

Enjoy!!

Red Hood was the first to speak, lowering his head in a wince. “Damn, kid. Sorry.”

“We had no idea.” Red Robin said quietly. “I hope you can believe us about this, at least. If the Justice League — or even just us- had known about this at any point for the last four years, we would not have let you face it alone.”

Gravely, Batman spoke. “What measures are you taking to find Hawkmoth?”

Adrien and Chloé both looked to her and she suppressed a sigh. As the Guardian, she supposed she actually did understand the most about this. 

“One of the powers granted by the Miraculous is a mask of anonymity. How do you think five teenagers have managed to keep their identities all this time? The magic around the jewels keeps us from being recognized in our superhero forms, and that includes the leaps of logic needed to puzzle out who the person behind the mask is. It’s why I felt safe enough to come ask for help from the supposed best detectives in the superhero world. It would take me detransforming right in front of you to reveal me.”

“That’s all well and good,” Robin said. “But what measures have you taken to find Hawkmoth? You don’t necessarily need to find his identity to track him down.”

Marinette tried not to scowl at his patronizing tone. “Due to how his powers work, we’ve been unable to do anything other than figure out a general area that he operates in. If you’ve found the blog, we’ve been using the maps generated during each Akuma attack to figure out his general range. But we think he may have either multiple places, or that he might be transforming out of his lair and sending Akumas out like that to mess with our data. And we aren’t exactly able to track the butterflies when they can fly through solid objects.”

“And you’re teens, with busy lives and no actual support system for superheroing, so it’s insanely difficult to devote much of your actual time to being proactive against him, other than the patrols your videos mention,” Red Robin summarized. Marinette nodded, Chloé and Adrien echoing the motion.

Batman just sighed. “I’m unsure of how wise it would be to actually send one of us to Paris to help you, if Hawkmoth targets those with dark emotions. But we will dig into this, and I promise we will do anything we can to assist you in your fight.”

“Oracle and I can start working on something,” Red Robin suggested, and the other three nodded. 

“If you need to contact us-“ Marinette pulled out her yo-yo, and opened it up to the screen. “This is how you can contact me. I’ll be notified of any messages or calls even outside the suit.” She offered them the yo-yo, extremely secure in the knowledge that now matter how they try to bug it, it would never work.

Red Robin took it, and after fiddling with it for a moment, looked back at her. “Isn’t this also your weapon? How does that work?”

He sounded distressed by it, and his expression only dropped further when Adrien laughed and said, “Magic.”

“Do you mind if we stay a bit?” Chloé asked, “If you want to accompany us, I wouldn’t mind, but I was kind of interested in seeing Gotham.”

Marinette caught Robin smirking, and wondered why, before Batman opened his mouth.

“I—”

“—Can run some kids around Gotham for a little bit,” Red Hood cut him off. “C’mon, Bats, let ‘em live a little while they’re visiting. I won’t let them get lost.”

Batman sighed. “Robin, you go with them.”

“Tt.” The other teen moved forward again, up to Batman’s side. “If you insist.”

Marinette wasn’t enthused, but she held her jabs in. 

“Awesome,” Chloé breathed, and as she took a look at her, Marinette recognized some of the way she used to stare at Ladybug. Chloé was trying her best not to actually fangirl over getting to spend time with some of the Gotham vigilantes.

It brought back vivid memories of Chloé running around in her Ladybug suit, pretending to save the day. 

And then Chloé gave her a dirty look that said she knew exactly what she was thinking, and leapt straight off the tower.

“Abeille!” Marinette scolded, running over to the ledge. Chloé was hanging below, laughing. 

“You’re too uptight, Ladybug, live a little.” A hand rested on her shoulder and she turned to see Red Hood. “Hey, Bee-girl. Race you to that blue roof.” 

“Me first!” Adrien yelled, bounding past them, propelling himself with his staff out into the open air. Red Hood shot his grappling gun and swung after, and Marinette sighed.

“I work with children,” she grumbled, only to be met with laughter from Red Robin. She turned back to them. “Thank you, Batman, for what you’re doing for us. It means- a lot.”

He nodded at her, and then to Robin, before he and Red Robin flung themselves from the side of the roof, both heading in the opposite direction from her partners.

“You and me, then,” Marinette said to Robin. With a thought, she smirked. “Bet you we can make it to that rooftop before they do.”

“Tt, Red Hood has probably already gotten distracted by another passing fancy.” Why did the way he said that sound familiar? “But I believe you are correct.” And he rushed off.

She matched him, swing for swing. And silently, they stole through the sky, listening to Chat Noir baiting Red Hood about something, Abeille snarking over his comeback, their teammates laughter covering the sound of them thoroughly catching up and then, without warning, surpassing them.

“Hey!” Abeille called, and suddenly it was an actual race. 

Marinette gave Robin one look and he, by some miracle, seemed to understand. They split around a building, and Marinette was on her own. 

Each swing brought her higher, each view of Gotham new and beautiful and confusing, until she heard it. 

On the streets below her, a raised voice.

“Chat,” she called as loudly as she dared, knowing that he would hear her. And then she dropped down.

“Please, please, just let me go-“ the woman cried, clutching a bag to her chest.

“Where are you gonna go, huh, Cynthia?” The man asked, looming over her. “A fucking homeless shelter? You gonna sleep on the streets? You know none of your friends are gonna put up with your goddamn bullshit the way I do—”

“Anything’s better than going back with you!” Cynthia shouted, looking terrified. Marinette couldn’t stop herself from stepping in. 

“Madame?” She moves out of the shadows and into the narrow beam of lamplight that covered the street. “What is the problem?”

Cynthia raised her wild eyes to Marinette and dashed towards her, cowering behind. “Please, please, don’t make me go back with him, I can’t. I can’t.”

“Listen, Red,” the man spoke to her. “This ain’t your business. Let me take my girlfriend home, she’s got meds that keep her from doing shit like this-“

“I don’t,” she spat. “Don’t fucking lie, I don’t have meds, you just-“

“Sir,” Marinette said calmly, her pulse like a jackhammer on the inside of her ribs. “If this really is a simple disagreement, perhaps some time apart will help you both collect yourselves. I’m sure—‘

“You ain’t sure of nothin’, bitch,” the man sneered. “That’s my girl. You’ll hand her over to me or you’ll face the goddamn consequences.”

Marinette’s hesitation was her downfall. There was no way she was going to let the man take Cynthia, but she was torn between getting the woman away quickly or trying to talk down the boyfriend. And in the second where she waited, the man chuckled. 

“Please, no,” Cynthia whispered. Marinette turned her head to assure her. The woman looked stricken, eyes wide over Marinette’s shoulder.

The gun she didn’t see him pull went off.

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