#i had dropped my guard entirely because she never gave me the impression that she's someone I'd have to guard myself against.

[rustedleopard]

Okay, I'm awake enough now that I can properly elaborate on what I meant by this.

Martlet doesn't have the highest opinion of humans. It's not something you'd really notice during a typical Pacifist/Neutral Route because she treats Clover like they're an adorable child, but play a No Mercy Run and during her fight she's belting out insults directed specifically at Clover's humanity. Play a high LOVE Neutral Run and when she gets impaled by Flowey at the end, she dies assuming that Clover is the one who killed her and states "I should've known..." before disintegrating into dust. Even though Clover has given up and agreed to go with her to Snowdin, she reprimands herself for not knowing better. OF COURSE a human would take advantage of her kindness and attack her when she dropped her guard, she should've known better than to trust them. Despite how she acts throughout most of her time with Clover, her conversation with Chujin (+ everything she was taught throughout her life about how humans are the enemy) did get to her, enough that she commits treason by breaking into the Royal Laboratory and stealing an experimental serum/medication specifically so she could use it to defeat a human.

There's also how Martlet agrees to accompany Clover through the Underground. I do think she was being honest with wanting to get Clover home in time for "a dinner," but she also states that she's risking her job/livelihood by choosing to accompany them. That's a lot to risk for someone you just met, especially since she doesn't really need to accompany them. Clover was capable enough to get through the Ruins and Snowdin by themself, why would they need her to tag along for the rest of their journey (especially when all humans end up at Asgore's eventually)? Well, I headcanon that in addition to trying to ensure Clover's safety throughout the Underground, she's also using this opportunity to monitor them, drive away other monsters (she states in the game that monsters don't fight other monsters/you can't get encounters when traveling with her), and gauge whether or not she should use her serum and defeat them. She only stops accompanying Clover through the Underground when she's unable to (because she's locked up in the Wild East) or when their next destination is an abandoned part of the Underground where she doesn't have to worry about any other monsters being attacked.

Martlet is also aware of Clover's violent tendencies and can even tell how violent they've been; a skill that's shared only with Ceroba. Just look at how her judgements varies based on their LOVE. In every judgement that isn't Pacifist or aborted No Mercy/No Mercy, she apologizes for her lack of honesty which I feel adds weight to my headcanon that she was using her time with Clover to monitor them and gauge whether or not she should kill them.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think she's some secret genius mastermind nor do I think that her deception was done with malicious intent. She just wasn't entirely forthcoming about her thoughts on/plans for Clover. Her "ditzy bluebird Royal Guard" deal is still her, but beneath all that is a very intelligent and socially aware person.

(Minor edit: I said it in the tags but I'll elaborate here so it doesn't get lost in reblogs. I want to rephrase my first post a bit: I wouldn't call what Martlet did "actively deceiving" but rather "not being entirely forthcoming." Actively deceiving implies that she was intentionally lying; in the game, she just wasn't telling the whole truth. I also made that first post very late at night/early in the morning, so that explains the sloppy word choice.)

I love Martlet. One of my favorite Martlet traits is how she spends most of her time actively deceiving Clover

[wundergeek]

New FFXIV fic: Research: the Most Fun a Catboy Can Have Without Taking off His Clothes

Length: 2 chapters, 8.5K words total Alisaie (trans) / G'raha (trans) / Warrior of Light (non-binary) (Eventual) very smutty smut As always: (1) I don't care what the devs say, Alisaie is absolutely not 16. By 5.3, she'd be about 23. (2) In a world where no one is explicitly gay or trans, that means anyone can be.

- - -

Alisaie shifted and looked down at her hands. "I had several classes with Raha at the Studium, but we were never anything other than friends there. At that point, he still thought his precious Allagans could do no wrong, and he spent all his time with a nose in a book while I was always skipping classes. Then, when we met again in the First, he'd been the Exarch too long, and he was so paranoid and secretive. Not to mention the way he was always manipulating everyone around him."

"He had to," I felt obliged to point out. "The stakes were too high."

"They were," Alisaie acknowledged, then took a deep breath. "But this new Raha..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head, obviously unsure how to finish the sentence.

"He's like a fusion," I offered. "With the best qualities of both of the previous versions."

"Yes!" Alisaie's eyes flashed with relief as she looked up to meet my gaze. "He's... he's experienced. Confident. Not so desperately, irritatingly eager to prove himself, because he's already done it! And being able to set down the Exarch's mantle has made him so much more open and... trusting. He believes in everyone, and trusts people to do what they're good at." She sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face. "Hells, I don't think I'm doing a good job of explaining it."

"Believe me, I get it," I said, putting my hand over one of hers. "The new G'raha is walking competence porn."

Completely caught off guard, Alisaie burst out into loud peals of cackling laughter. Finally, she was able to wrestle back some control and gave me a conspiratorial grin as she wiped her eyes. "So what would you think of maybe making our V into a triangle?"

I grinned. "It would make my life a lot easier, honestly. It's been a bit awkward trying to juggle separate one-on-one time with everything that's been going on." I paused and leaned forward as I lowered my voice. "And assuming he's on board with it, I'd love to see that pretty cock of yours in his mouth while I fuck him."

Alisaie actually blushed. "So how should I... you know. Talk to him?"

"Wow," I drawled, grinning teasingly. "Look at you not marching up to him and flat out demanding to get your mouth on his junk. You must have it really bad."

"Shut up, you," she growled, turning an even brighter shade of red.

I widened my eyes innocently. "I thought you were looking for advice?"

There was a loud thunk as Alisaie banged her forehead on the table. "I hate you. I hate you so much."

"Too bad. Guess I'll just keep him to myself then."

Alisaie lifted her head and glared at me in a way that promised I would absolutely pay for this later. "Fine. Please. Give me some advice."

I smirked. "Offer to help him do research."

It was a struggle not to laugh at the dismay on her face. "I hate research."

"So do I. And yet, my advice stands."

Alisaie scowled at me suspiciously.

"You'll get to impress him with how many books you can carry," I teased.

"You're holding out on me," Alisaie hissed, poking me hard in the shoulder. "What aren't you telling me?"

I leaned forward and held her gaze as I dropped my voice to a whisper. "He always gets horny when he's really onto some hot bit of research, and he claims that getting fucked helps him put the pieces together faster."

Alisaie's face lit up like a Starlight Tree. "Really," she breathed.

"Oh yeah," I whispered back. "It sounds wild, but several times now I've fucked him over his desk, and then he's filled an entire blackboard with notes. Clearly something about it works for him. So I help fetch and carry the books he needs, which saves him time, and I bring something to work on when he doesn't need me. After a few hours, he starts babbling about something it would take three Doctorates to follow, and that's usually about when he starts begging me to fuck him."

Alisaie's was practically salivating by the time I finished. "How do I get myself invited to one of these sessions?" she asked, enthralled.

Read the whole thing on AO3

[notnctu]

jaehyun: the charming

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, nicknames, dirty talking, possessiveness, rough sex, praise kink, oral (giving and receiving), spitting, choking, unprotected (wrap up yall!!) ☆ WC: 4.1k ☆ SYNOPSIS: A harmless game of Truth Or Dare with your housemates reveals Jaehyun’s true desires and has him eyeing you the entire night.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: this is the only part for jaehyun ! sorry for the long wait,, i started this during my writing hiatus and did not have much motivation to finish it since its been really difficult to write smut lately :/ regardless, i hope you can leave me some feedback if you liked it <3 doyoung’s part will be the next in the series once i get to it !

“If you could kiss anyone in this room right now, who would it be?” Johnny beckons his drink to Jaehyun, who blinks at him with knitted eyebrows and a quizzical expression.

It’s one of those rare nights where all your housemates are home and Doyoung is actually out of his room to participate in everyone’s foolishness. All six of you sit comfortably in the living room as the fifth round of Truth or Dare commences. 

You share the large couch with Jaemin and Haechan, sandwiching you in between them happily. Doyoung, Jaehyun and Johnny are seated in their own respective chairs that circle the tiny coffee table in the center. 

And if your housemates could be any more distracting, Jaehyun sits laid-back without a shirt on and grey sweatpants that fit loosely on his legs, manspreading as if he has all the space in the world. His soft hair falls messily around his face from constantly running his hands through it and his abs flex without him needing to do much.

It’s hard not to stare, but no one in the room calls you out for doing so. They’ve all stared at you plenty enough times on other occasions, so it would be hard for any of them to give you a counterargument. Jaehyun simply looks good enough to devour, and he can say the same for you as he steals sly glances your way.

Every subtle connection of smoldering eye contact sends a thrill down your core, and the smirk paired with his dotted dimple has you swooning for him over and over. Jaehyun knows every way to drive you wild without needing to say or touch you.

It’s unbelievable how that man has only allowed you to see his intimacy once with the way he whistles whenever you walk down the stairs in a cute outfit or how often he compliments your butt just for the pure satisfaction of you having one. Despite having the highest body count in the entire house, he has great self control and never comes off as being too needy. 

And every time he is needy, he already has another girl in his room to satisfy him. So, this never gave you another opportunity to sleep with him as much as you wanted to. If you weren’t so bashful, you might’ve had enough courage to just walk into his room and ask. 

Nonetheless, here you both are: sitting across from each other during a slowly escalating game of Truth or Dare and eyeing each other every chance you can get.

“Shouldn’t you ask y/n that question?” Jaehyun mumbles, finding Johnny’s question rather ridiculous since the ratio in the room is 1 girl to 5 guys and finds no curiosity to know how bad of a kisser the rest of his housemates are. “I think you’d rather know her answer than mine.”

You clear your throat when every attention is drawn toward you, expecting you to give a truthful response when it isn’t even your turn. “What if I didn’t pick truth?”

“You want a dare?” Jaemin rests a hand on your bare thigh and turns delightfully toward you with a dark mischievous gleam in his eye.

Gulping, you try your best to diffuse the situation. “It’s not my turn.” 

“I’ll give my turn to you.” Jaehyun smiles and proceeds to gesture toward you to speak.

Bewildered, you’re looking to Doyoung to protest about such unfair grounds of switching the rules. However, he doesn’t say a word, shrugging it off like it’s not a big deal. “You’re all unbelievable.” You scoff sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’s just a friendly game. Everyone wants you to go.” Haechan clicks his tongue out of impatience, the anticipation practically suffocating the whole house.

“Ask me when it’s my turn.” You stand your ground and send Jaehyun a quick glare. 

The tension drops instantly from the stiff atmosphere. Haechan’s groan erupts beside you as he sits back against the couch with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, buttercup. I’ll answer Johnny’s ridiculous question, but know that I have a good one for you.” Jaehyun leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together loosely. “I’d kiss y/n.” 

Your breath hitches, but no one else is actually surprised by his answer. “Yeah, I’d kiss y/n too if this was my selection pool.” Doyoung remarks with a roll in his eyes.

“I mean,” Jaehyun sits back coolly in his chair, hands stretched behind his head and every muscle flexed in view. Every movement has your mouth watering at his impressive body on display. “Even if we were playing with other people, I’d still choose y/n.” A dimple smile causes your heart to beat rapidly.

Johnny scoffs, “if we circled up all your flings, you’d still choose y/n?” 

Jaehyun ponders the hypothetical for a second, but his eyes land back on yours and every hesitation disappears. “Yeah. She has the softest lips.” He says, very matter of fact.

Your fingers unconsciously graze against your lips briefly, before you clear your throat and shake away the power of his arousing words. “Okay, okay. Let’s move on?” 

“Okay, y/n. Truth or Dare?” Jaehyun picks this open opportunity to bring the attention back to you. Your housemates wait patiently for your choice, with eyebrows raised in the thick tension that this simple game has built up.

With shifty eyes and a dry throat, you mutter. “Dare.” 

There is a notable sparkle in Jaehyun’s dark lustful orbs. “I dare you to kiss the person that you think is the hottest in this room.” 

“Well, it would be difficult to kiss myself.” Rolling your eyes, the edge in your tone is enough to make the rest of them snicker. 

“I’m done after this round. It’s always the weirdest twists whenever we play games like this together.” Doyoung crosses his arms, throwing a small fit at the request. 

Johnny smirks, “because you know y/n wouldn’t kiss you?” 

Doyoung’s mouth opens to protest, but he falls short of a defensive response. He takes his defeat and slumps back against the chair, pouty and grumpy. “Just get it over with and kiss Jaehyun.” 

With a turn of events, you get up from your spot on the couch. Jaehyun follows your every move, your stare never leaving his own. Like a lost puppy, you lead him into thinking the kiss would be for him. However, you lean forward and hold Doyoung’s chin gently, planting a soft kiss on the equally shocked boy. 

“I think Doyoung is the hottest because he treats me with the most chivalry.” The sweetness that taints your mocking words has Doyoung turning red and Jaehyun turning into stone. The charming smile that lights up your darkest parts is gone, and Jaehyun blinks back at you with a tight jaw. 

Jaemin and Haechan read the room too well, excusing themselves before the tension reaches its peak. Doyoung gulps, glancing between you and Jaehyun, and awkwardly makes his way back to his room. Johnny chuckles at the abrupt end of the night, patting Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly before also heading up to bed. 

Every next move is crucial. With your weight barred on your left leg, you cross your arms with as much attitude as you can to push Jaehyun’s buttons further. “Jaehyun, if you really wanted a kiss, you could just ask me without wasting a turn.”

“Where’s the fun in that, buttercup? You clearly like testing your limits.” His voice drops at the end of his sentence. Jaehyun stands up, approaching you slowly. “But if you want my attention, you could just ask me without trying to make me jealous.”

His boldness catches you off guard, leaving you a bit speechless to formulate a proper explanation. Your hesitation gets caught in your throat when Jaehyun lightly places his hand on your waist. “It’s late, we should probably get to bed.” His raspy baritone cadence rumbles your chest.

Fingers graze his arm softly, but he pulls away before you can get a hold of him. “Are you actually going to sleep?”

Jaehyun walks to the bottom of the staircase, motioning you to walk first. “No, I’ll be up thinking about you.” A smirk finishes his sensual taunt and you cautiously head up the stairs. 

He follows directly after you and a whistle escapes his lips. “Have I given you your daily ass compliment yet?”

“Got one this morning.” With each step, Jaehyun is quick to match. 

“Well, you look amazing everyday.” He meets you at the top of the steps and when you’re ready to part back into your room, he stops you. “Where’s my kiss goodnight, baby?” 

You can’t possibly count the numerous times you’ve rolled your eyes being around him. “In my room, if you dare wish to enter.” Though your statement was clearly sarcastic, Jaehyun raises an questionable eyebrow. 

“I’ll only come if you let me in.” His innocent eyes do not match his sinister tone and his hidden innuendos. 

“I guess I always go into your room, it would be nice to have a change.” Taking his hand, you lead him down the hallway. The doors of your other housemates are oddly closed, but you figured they wanted some privacy. His warm hand feels rough against your palm and your heart drums as you two inch closer to your bedroom.

Jaehyun gently closes your door and examines your room as if he’s never been inside. “Don’t be a stranger.” You say, dropping his hand and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“Do you leave your underwear drawer open for all your friends to see?” He snickers, his pinky holding your special red lace panties up in the air. Your eyes go wide as you quickly yank the material out of his possession and shove the cabinet closed.

“I wouldn’t have figured you were the nosey type.” You grumble, but he takes this close proximity to pull you into his bare chest. His firm hand gives your ass a soft squeeze.

“It was quite obviously on display.” His dark whisper sends a chill down your spine and butterflies to swirl in the pit of your core. The faint smell of his body wash suffocates you all around and his sultry stare has you melting in his hands. It is so difficult to resist him, you want everything that is Jung Jaehyun.

Your words are quite possibly caught in your throat, but the hesitation does not show in your expression. Lightly, your fingertips trace the outline of his biceps and his dark stare follows every drag. Admittedly, Jaehyun will find any excuse to grab your attention. Call him possessive for no good reason, but something inside him bubbles with envy whenever your other housemates even leave a lingering stare.

Although he’s not the type to be vocal about it, his facial expressions speak volumes. May it be his competitive nature, but he can’t let the others have you. You have unknowingly become off-limits to the rest, but frankly, you don’t care all too much. Your prize is already in front of you.

“Are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait all night again?” With every will, you try your best to control the nervous tremble in your bold rhetorical question.

Jaehyun wastes no more time; soft lips crash into your own and you feel like you’re floating. Only he can make you feel this way. Hands in hair, the tug on his fresh locks has him moaning through the kiss. Jaehyun loses himself in you, rubbing his semi-hard cock against your thigh and gripping your ass harshly in his hand.

Every drip of saliva is swapped in the mess of your connected mouths and you’re reminded of how rough this man enjoys to be. Your knees buckle at the thought of him and Jaehyun is quick to hold you up, placing you strategically at the end of your bed. 

Pulling away, he stands in front of you with the largest dick print against his sweatpants, along with a small wet spot. There are no bashful words exchanged as the room is filled with heavy breathing and sultry looks. Jaehyun guides your hand to his waistband, silently waiting for you to free him.

Looking up at your beautiful boy, the neediness of release almost ruins his perfect charming look. Hair is tousled wildly across his eyes and his bottom lip escapes underneath the top row of his pearly teeth. He just looks so fucked out already, you can’t imagine how much he was holding back earlier.

You pull down enough of his pants for his dick to spring up right in front of you, not expecting the lack of underwear. Your small gasp cause him to chuckle, pushing the back of your head forward toward his hard cock. “Surprised?”

“You weren’t wearing underwear the entire night?” You question him as your hands cup his balls. A sharp intake of breath is his only response before he can compose himself. 

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun stutters, “Like you were?” He throws his head back when your warm tongue flicks against his throbbing red tip. Every vein in his arm and neck pops on display as he grabs a hold of your hair.

“You wouldn’t know.” You snicker, running your tongue up and down his shaft. Jaehyun looks back down at your piercing eyes and his dick right above your cheek.

A smirk grows devilishly, “I’m about to find out.” Pushing your shoulder back gently, your back lands comfortably on the mattress. Your heart is racing as Jaehyun gets down on his knees, situating himself in between your open legs.

“May I?” He asks, warm hands on your inner thighs as he patiently waits for your answer.

“Yes.” Jaehyun pulls your shorts down to reveal your favorite comfort cotton panties that have faded from their original color. Naturally, you grow embarrassed and quickly slap your legs closed before Jaehyun can process. 

He blinks at you questionably, quite taken aback by the abrupt motion. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t completely expecting to sleep with anyone tonight. I’m not quite prepared down there.” Your gaze drops and you anxiously fist your sheets in your sweaty hands.

Jaehyun nods, understanding your implications. “I don’t care about those things. You are…” landing a quick peck on your bare knee, he rubs reassuring circles with his thumb. “.... the prettiest baby ever. And if you’d let me, buttercup, I want to make you feel good.” 

He has always been suave with his words, as if he knows the handbook to get butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Slowly, your legs open back up before him and the slightest groan rumbles from his throat.

The wet patch on your panties is hard to ignore and he’s mesmerized, to say the least. He peels down your underwear and uses his thumb to spread your lips. Leaning forward, Jaehyun lightly licks at your erect clit and your twitch in response is enough to feed into his ego. 

He dives hungrily, eating you out until your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back is arching off of the bed. He flattens his tongue against you, pushing in and out of your dripping hole in a rhythmic motion. His nose is deep in your skin, intoxicated by your arousal, and his eyes are drinking up your uncontrollable reactions.

It’s as if electricity shocks through your lower half. The pleasure that comes with every lick and sweet suckle has you panting for more. His name echoes from your tender lips while Jaehyun inserts two fingers to stretch you out. The initial ache subsides into an indescribable pleasure; it’s the feeling of being full of anything mixing with the sensitivity of tongue against clit that has you practically on the verge of release. 

Jaehyun isn’t going to give it to you that easily. The moment your moans grow bolder, your legs begin to shake, your hand putting a little more pressure on his head, he pulls away and gets up. A desperate sigh crushes your chest as the build up leads to dissatisfaction. Jaehyun wipes his chin with the back of his hand, his two fingers glistening before being shoved into your own mouth. 

“That’s my good girl, give yourself a taste.” His hot words cause you to flood a bit more, the feeling of wetness pooling at your core. However, you two toy each other with no end as he is provoked by the way your tongue sensually swirls around his digits and how your hips keep squirming closer to the edge. “How badly do you want to get fucked?”

His firm hand holds your moving hips into the bed and you’re aching to be filled with his dick. He’s so hard that it slaps against his abdomen, red tip and spewing precum. Nonetheless, his self restraint is quite strong as he notices the defeat in your expression. Enough teasing, your body wants him endlessly. 

“Jaehyun, I want you to give me all that you got.” At the end of your request, he enters you slowly with a breathy moan. The stretch is much more than his two fingers, causing you to squirm and wiggle. Inch by inch, Jaehyun fills you to your brim and pauses for you to adjust to his size. 

“Fuck, it’s been awhile since we’ve slept together. I almost forgot how tight you are.” How could this man possibly smile with so much innocence while saying such foul things? The next action causes you to go a bit dizzy as he spits down at your clit and rubs it lovingly with his thumb. You practically see stars on your mundane ceiling. 

He starts moving his hips, deep long thrusts pulling out to only sharply fill you up again. Jaehyun is relentless as every thrust forward has you moving more and more up the bed. Your legs are pressed against your chest, folding you over to hit your sweet spot. When his tip grazes upon the greatest feeling ever, your grip on the sheets grows tighter and he’s smirking at how your mouth hangs open in pure ecstasy and shock.

“You’re so good at taking my cock.” He pants, moving faster than before. “My baby hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, has she?”

You’re at a loss for words at every drag and push. Regardless of you wanting to speak, no words seem to make its way out. Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you, dark grin and a menacing taunt in his low voice. A chuckle begins his sentence, “I know… it’s hard to talk when you feel so good right, buttercup? I can feel you getting more excited down there.”

Placing your legs around his waist, he leans down over you. His sneaky hand travels up your torso, giving your boobs a light squeeze through your shirt. Then, he wraps his hand around your neck gently and carefully, only applying enough pressure to drive you wild. 

He breaks his rhythm, reverting back to the previous slow pace. Something about the way you feel around him, hot and tight, needy and wet. Jaehyun just loves how your body reacts.

The feeling of soreness occupies your lower half and you’re more than certain it’s going to be rough tomorrow morning. Every thrust is agonizing, yet powerful enough to be felt in your guts. Jaehyun never fails to leave an impression.

Through your moans, you manage to stutter out his name. “Please, harder.” Jaehyun picks you up, hands supporting your butt and pressing your back against your door. Placing your legs down, you’re standing up right facing him with a confused expression at the change of location.

For a brief moment, his lustful glare is warm and friendly. It’s the same look that greets you in the car when he drives you two to campus. It’s the one he often looks at you with across the dinner table, usually accompanied with his robust laughter. Jaehyun looks at you as if he’s only ever seen you.

However, his next words are far from romantic and his hand finds its way to your throat, pinning you up against the cold door. “I want them to hear how good I fuck you.” Them. The rest of your housemates. Knowing that the house is far from soundproof, Jaehyun wants everyone to know how enthusiastic he makes you feel. 

“But--” As you begin to protest, he drives his hips up and nestles into you. His free hand grips your waist steadily as he barely pulls out, fucking you deeper until you feel him at the pit of your stomach. There is no ability to hold back your pleasure, moans just naturally fill the room and bounce off every wall.

“Cum for me, I know you’re close.” Jaehyun has no intentions to stop, the feeling of both releases being at the tip of your tongues. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me.”

The small bubble inside of you is ready to burst. Jaehyun sucks on his fingers to coat them with saliva and reaches down to stroke at your clit. Like a switch, your internal light bulb explodes and every spark of electricity fuels your every vein. 

Your orgasm electrifies you, causing every limb to shake uncontrollably and sporadically. Jaehyun keeps thrusting up, helping you ride out the intensity of your high. 

“There you go, baby.” A small kiss on your shoulder, he pulls out and the emptiness is felt immediately. Getting on your knees, you take his cock in your mouth to help him finish. He rests his fists on the door, hovering over you as his abs flex beautifully under the fluorescent light. Hollowing out your cheeks, your throat invites him deeper and this causes him to mindlessly thrust into your mouth. 

Jaehyun sounds breathy above you, whining about how close he is to cumming. Silence in the room has been replaced with his heavy pants and soft groans, the sound of suckling and slick saliva droning out anything else.

“Fuck, y/n.” He says, as he holds your cheek in his palm and maintains eye contact with you through his brown locks. The view of his dick being swallowed up in your mouth is more than enough to drive him to his edge, strings of cum coating the back of your throat from his release. The saltiness immediately hits your palette.

Jaehyun tosses his head back until the satisfaction dissipates. Slowly pulling himself out, he moves quickly to find you a tissue. For a moment, neither one of you speak as he silently dresses himself and you wipe the remaining spit off of your lips.

He helps you up from the floor, lightly dusting off your bare knees for you. And he says something to break the slightly awkward atmosphere, “are you kicking me out like you do with the rest of your hookups?” Jaehyun laughs, wide smile and dimples deep in his soft cheeks. The glow in his skin radiates in the dimness, he’s a sight that’s too difficult to look away from.

“Did you want to stay?” Tossing on a pair of fresh underwear and pajama shorts, you have a vague memory of Jaehyun holding you after your first fuck together. 

Though Jaehyun is your friend before anything else, he responds like every other hookup unsure about the next steps. He shrugs, turning around and tapping his back for you to hop on. “I’ll take you to the bathroom to wash up.” 

Jumping on his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, he carries you down the hall to the shared bathroom. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, knowing how embarrassed you are going to be the next morning when facing the rest of your housemates.

“I know you’re just going to come into my room anyways, right?” He sets you down and the door to the bathroom swings open to reveal an equally surprised Haechan. 

“Shit, you two scared me.” The dramatic boy rests a hand on his chest to calm his startled heart. “You might want to air out the bathroom before doing anything in there.” Jaehyun and Haechan share a laugh as you groan, irritated by the putrid fumes that cursed the poorly ventilated bathroom.

“You’re so gross.” You say, punching Haechan jokingly on the arm.

“Says you.” Haechan pauses to poke at Jaehyun’s bare chest, “and you. We are never playing Truth or Dare ever again.” 

“Don’t hate the players, hate the game bro.” Jaehyun snickers.

Haechan pays no more attention to the two of you, back turned and hurrying into his dark room. “I do hate the game now!” He yells in a whisper, shutting his door to end the conversation. You sigh out of relief that Haechan didn’t press for more details or jokes.

Housemates, you never know what adventures you’d run into with them. Nonetheless, you don’t mind and getting to see a shirtless Jaehyun parade around the house is always a treat.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

[writer-akihiko]

Could I get the dorm leader’s reactions to a fem!S/O who punched a student because he was being creepy towards her?

Dorm Leaders + MC Punching Someone

Credits to my precious wife The Miss; I have never punched someone and my wife teaches and does self defense and martial arts, so she helped me out greatly. Work is cut for length purposes.

Warnings: creepy behaviour from NPC students, protective behaviour dorm leaders

Malleus Draconia

Malleus knew it was moments after your last class finished, so why were you late?

Sebek quickly noticed his master, and said that the teacher called for you

He wasted no time rushing to the teacher's room, only for it to be empty…

"I have nothing to do with you!"

He heard your voice, rushing to the source. You were in the gardens with another annoying student…

Unknowingly, he gathered his magic at his fingertips, ready to attack

CRACK!

Your lover witnessed you sucker punch that student right in the nose

What was this? That child of man was deadlier than he thought… and the thought thrilled him

The student scurried away, with a bleeding nose and that was when Malleus revealed himself

He watched as his YN shifted to her timid self once more. Maybe she was embarrassed?

"I witnessed all of it," He said. "My little treasure… you're quite the silent fierce type aren't you?"

You accepted Malleus taking you in his arms. You snuggled into his shoulders, knowing no one was there. "Only to people who annoy me. I'd never do that to you."

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, enjoying this moment with you. "As much as I witnessed how capable you were YN, if those punches ever graze your skin, I might not hesitate to skin them…"

You smacked Malleus playfully. "I swear, I can be safe."

Malleus overall was thrilled every time you showed any display of your strength, although you were quite docile with him so he'd have to sneak around to see you pummel some worthless students

Riddle Rosehearts

He was severely upset that your absence caused his unbirthday party to be delayed

He asked for Ace and Deuce to search for you, but he himself found you near the school labs

Oh, how his blood boiled seeing that it was a Heartsyabul student approaching you…

He was about to approach the student and call him off for his rude remarks, but he didn't expect what was coming next

You punched the much taller student in the stomach, and the student hurled over in pain

"You�� You-!"

"I dare you to continue that sentence…" Riddle said, stepping out and standing next to you

He shamelessly brought your knuckles to his lips, "Did you bruise your knuckles my Queen?"

The student tried to run away, but Riddle was quicker to respond

"Off With Your Head."

He would certainly have fun punishing the ignorant student later, but for now he had to tend to you

"I never knew you could do that," He admitted, escorting you back to the location of the unbirthday party. "I'm quite surprised."

You shook your head, feeling a bit shy that Riddle of all people was praising you so. "It's self defense. I'm not one to go around punching people…"

Riddle after having knowledge of your skills wouldn't be afraid to leave you alone, and he'd have his little fantasy of you teaching him some physical defense… With you two being close… He can dream can't he?

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim had you seated next to him during one of Scarabia's parties, enjoying the festivities

Jamil had come over, asking you to excuse your boyfriend as other guests had arrived and were awaiting the host of the events

Kalim greeted the guests, although his voice was slightly strained since all he could think about was getting back to you

As he let the guests roam around, he took one glance at where you were supposed to be…

And saw the view of someone chatting you up…

Well, as the charismatic host he is, he has to put this student in his place-

CRASH!

The student fell onto a small table of snacks after you punched that student from getting too close

"I said," You poured the remaining of your drink on his head. "I don't want to be bothered."

Kalim's jaw dropped at the entire scene, and in his heart he might've been a little afraid of you

As he turned to Jamil, Jamil shook his head. "I didn't teach her that."

After the other servants cleaned the mess up, Kalim approach you cautiously. Giving you a hug from behind

He was relieved feeling your shoulders relax, but he had to make sure…

"YN… Would you punch me if I ever upset you?"

You quickly faced Kalim, holding his face in your hands, shaking your head. "No I won't. That guy was just being annoying…" You gave him a cheeky peck on his jaw. "And how could I ruin this adorable face?"

Kalim didn't mind you punching whoever annoyed you, but he was very impressed that it had gotten to the point where if someone bothered you, Kalim would be on the sidelines cheering at you

Azul Ashengrotto

As the dorm leader who runs the Mostro Lounge, Azul and the Leech twins would be typically busy with the constant rush of customers

In this instance he was grateful that you were willing to help out with the rush hours

He had you and the twins busy taking orders as he organised his contracts

There shouldn't be any troublesome patrons, or that's what he thought…

"Hey! Pretty waitress, why don't you sit with us? I'll buy you a drink!" Some sleazy customer hollered at you

You tried to ignore the students, continuing your duties. Floyd and Jade were too busy to kick them out, but you thought that they could be dealt with later…

From his view, Azul could only watch in disgust as the student dared to pull you to him

Before the student could put his hands on you, you swiped a clean punch across his face

The moment that happened, Azul couldn't help but laugh

The clique of the knocked out student scrambled out, intimidated by the creepy auras the twins emitted, and the way the Lounge owner's eyes pierced their core

You held your wrist in your hand, shaking off the slight pain. Jade and Floyd quickly escorted you to Azul's office area, and Jade even gave you a pat on the head for a job well done

Azul couldn't help himself from hugging you tight, showering you in praises and kissing your hand even though you insisted you weren't seriously injured

"My Angelfish… I should hire you for the Lounge's security instead," He joked, sitting next to you. "Actually… Do as you like! I get quite entertained with that fiery look in your eyes when you do get a hit or two!"

Long story short, you instead worked closely with Azul as a pseudo-bodyguard

Idia Shroud

Idia enjoyed his quiet time, especially quiet time with you, Ortho and video games

He didn't usually go outside, but he would always walk with you after class since you always calmed his nerves

Sometimes, if he was bold enough, he'd ask to walk hand in hand with you after a school day

At times, you could hear the gossip of some students, particularly about Idia…

On one day, Idia had to meet up with Azul due to club work. You decided to meet up with Ortho while waiting for Idia, since Idia wanted to continue his game's story mode with you

Idia quickly finished his business, but as he exited the room, he couldn't help but eavesdrop an interesting conversation…

"Why don't you hang out with us instead of that shut-in of a dorm leader?"

His attention was on the group of boys talking to you, closing in on you

He was caught off guard as you punched the leader square in the nose

"That's for insulting my boyfriend."

Idia had to admit that he got excited over you being so cool! It's like you're the protagonist that rescues the archmage-

Wait… That means that he's the archmage…

After scaring away the group away, Idia ran up to you, hugging you. His jacket covered you both, as you looked up at Idia…

"YN… Thank you…"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona always invites you to laze around, so when you were late, he got irritated

He was competent enough to memorise your schedule, so he knew where you would most likely be

He made his presence known, although he didn't care about the other students in his way

His ears perked up hearing your voice. Why were you in the labs?

He peaked inside to see some boys corner you. Ah… Some students that don't know their place…

"C'mon! Just one date and then you can go to that lion boy toy of yours!"

Oh… Now he was ticked off…

Before he could make a grand entrance, he heard a thud

The student hurled over in pain, clutching his lower half and gasping for air…

Oh… so the little herbivore punched him there…

He couldn't help but laugh, kicking the door open. You immediately went to his side, huffing away from those rude students

As Leona escorted you to his room, he mischievously called you out on it, "I didn't take you for one to go for the crown jewels… You gotta sanitise your hands before touching my sheets though."

You poked Leona's cheek, stopping him from teasing you, "And you, Leona, I might kick yours instead if you don't stop teasing me!"

You yelped, being carried by him. "No can do YN~"

Vil Schoenheit

Vil wondered why you didn't come find him after classes. You'd usually have some afternoon tea with him

He didn't think you'd skip out on purpose, so he commanded Rook to search for you

He also walked around, asking the students in your year whether they saw you or not

He grew anxious, quickening his pace until he heard your voice-

"I don't have anything to do with you, so stop it!"

He turned the corner, seeing you and your arms crossed and a group of students confronting you

One reached out their hand to you, which you retaliated by punching him square in the jaw

The student fell on his other friends, and Vil decided that this was enough

"Ah… I don't think it was wise to mess with my sweet potato…"

The remaining students scrambled to their feet, fearing the dorm leader's magic

"Scram, won't you?"

Vil didn't need to say it twice. The students disappeared, leaving you with Vil

Vil hugged you, patting your head. "My YN… I'm glad that you can defend yourself, but if you continue to do this, your knuckles will be bruised and I refuse to allow that."

You stood on your toes, pecking him on the cheek. "I appreciate the thought Vil."

[nestasgalpal]

The empty apartment [Gwynriel]

@gwynrielweek2022 day 5:  What the Future Holds

Nesta’s Gal Pal Masterlist | AO3

Synopsis: omg they were roommates... and all of a sudden he disappears without a trace

A/N: Yes, the charity line is canon according to ACOFAS. Enjoy!!

Gwyn walked to the river house with urgency, her feet barely touching the ground before they took the next step. Her hair was wet and cascaded over her shoulders, since she had run out of the apartment as soon as she noticed Azriel wasn't there, the sink still full of last night's diner dishes and his bedroom's door locked.

The entry to the building the High Lady had built for herself was magnificent, not a leaf out of place in the front gardens. The gate opened at her touch, as if its magic guards recognized her as a welcomed guest. She had never been inside the building, and her jaw dropped at the sight of the interiors. The hall alone reunited more luxuries than she had seen in her entire life.

"My lady?" She called for Nesta's sister, who she had only met on counted occasions.

No answer.

Gwyn dared get inside without invitation, having decided she would blame either Nesta or Azriel himself if she got caught and screamed at by Feyre Archeron. She would lie and tell they had invited her to come inside whenever she needed to. Gwyn wondered the place and was quick to understand the floor plan, which made finding the High Lady a whole lot easier.

Feyre was behind her desk. The pile of paperwork in front of her forced the female to get up from the chair to see who was breaking the silence of her studio so early in the morning.

"My lady."

"Gwyneth! What do I owe the pleasure?" She tried to be cordial, although Gwyn could read in her face some awkward tension at not having been able to notice her sooner.

She gave the High Lady her best smile, and was answered with a similar one. Feyre always tried to cause Gwyn a good impression. Gwyn often theorized it was because she was the first fae out of her high society circle of friends she saw as somehow part of her life. She was only Nesta's friend, but for all she knew, Feyre had no close contact with any other peasant, only quick greetings in town, or maybe a brief conversation in her art studio.

Another reason could be that, knowing how close knitted her relationship with Nesta, Azriel and Cassian was, the High Lady had offered Gwyn the opportunity to become a citizen of the Night Court the day she decided to leave the library. Three moths had passed, and the ex priestess still hadn't given her and answer.

Knowing Feyre's background with the Spring Court, where Gwyn was from and where she had spent all of her life, she understood why the High Lady became so insistent on her choosing to leave the place behind and pick a life in the Night Court instead. There was a deeper meaning to the act. But Gwyn hadn't run for half an hour to this house to discuss that.

"Hello, my Lady. I apologize if I disturbed your work. I only came here hoping to find Azriel."

"You can call me Feyre, it's okay. And please, come have a seat."

Guiding her to a sofa in the opposite wall of the studio, Feyre sat down and Gwyn followed suit. She seemed to be perfectly chill about the sudden absence of Azriel in Velaris that morning, so either she had the answers Gwyn was looking for, or she hadn't put into her words the amount of urgency required.

"You can call me Gwyn as well. Everyone does, really." She shallowed hard, not wanting to be rude, but feeling the task of controlling her emotions harder every second. "So, about Az... Do you know where I can find him?"

"Oh, you needn't worry about him. Az will be back soon, we had to send him into a quick mission."

"Where?" Gwyn demanded to know. She would follow him there if necessary.

The High Lady was, once again, perfectly calm in a practiced way, as she did her best to ignore Gwyn's urgency and try to divert the conversation. "How is everything going, by the way? I haven't have the opportunity to talk to you in private since you left the House of Wind last month."

It hadn't shocked anyone that Feyre showed up that morning. Gwyn had moved from the House to Azriel's apartment in the city, and apparently, he had shared very little about their relationship with his family. In consequence, Rhysand, Morrigan and Feyre would happen to pass by the House on her last days there to help them move the boxes to her new home. Pure selfless kindness.

"Everything is fine, I love the house and the location. I am only missing Az now!" She was determined to insist as much as needed until Feyre run out of small talk topics and told her where the shadowsinger was.

For a moment, Gwyn feared she would end up walking back home with no answers and without him. Feyre just kept talking.

"I helped rebuilt an edification in the area after the war. I felt like it was my duty as High Lady to do as much as I could for Velaris." She sighed, as if the memories made her feel defeated. "But they sent me home after two days. They thanked me for everything I did, but they said I was helping too much..."

Gwyn chuckled at the joke.

The mild sadness in Feyre's semblance let her know that the female wasn't joking. She believed every word, and that there was such thing as "helping too much" in a place that was still trying to get back to normal after two years. She made no comments, but also couldn't help but remember the luxuries she had seen first on the outside of this manor, then on the inside of its hallways, and feel a bit of anger mixing with everything else that was already in her head.

Smiling with kindness and trying to be as empathetic as possible, she pushed for answers again.

"So, where has Azriel been sent? Anywhere I could reach him?"

Back to the present, Feyre regained her regal posture. Gwyn had the older sister impulse to tell her it was okay, she needn't be the all mighty Feyre Cursebreaker right now, only tell her where in hell he was. That this wasn't a Court business, but the visit of a... well, a friend, for the lack of a better word.

"He went with Cass and Rhys to Illyria first thing this morning. He's been hearing rumors of a new uprising and they are measuring how serious it is. But he will be back soon, I promise!"

"For how long has he known he would have to leave today?" Gwyn was frowning, and maybe she snapped too quickly.

Feyre was taken by surprise by her desperation to know. She took Gwyn's hand, the ink covering the back of it contrasting against Gwyn's paleness.

"You don't have to worry. It was only a quick visit to check on the Illyrian ranks." She tried to put into her words all the confidence she had in Rhysand and his brothers, trying to reassure her that everything would be okay. "Az will be back safe and sound. He is the Spymaster of the Night Court, after all. A trained soldier feared in every corner of our continent and beyond." Feyre finished, hoping to mitigate Gwyn's fears.

The redhead's smile was faked, Feyre could probably tell.

"Well..." She began, condescension impossible to hide anymore, "the Spymaster of the Night Court, the trained soldier feared in every corner of our continent and beyond, left without doing the dishes. Again. So if you don't mind, Feyre, I will wait here for his triumphant arrival."

Feyre blinked, then a loud laugh escaped her mouth. The High Lady was cracking up, her shoulders suddenly relaxed. She palmed Gwyn's hand and let it go.

"You are more than welcomed." Now that she got what the ex priestess was doing in her house, Feyre gave her a mischievous smile.

Half an hour was approximately what the two of them waited for the illyrians to be winnowed back by Rhysand. If they hadn't been so lazy and had made the way back flying, maybe Azriel would have been able to sense Gwyn's presence in the river house, but the winnowing didn't allow him to send his shadows ahead to explore.

The moment his feet touched the expensive carpet of Feyre's studio, Azriel's eyes were on Gwyn.

"You bitch ass bat!" She shouted immediately.

Azriel gave a step back for each the female gave towards him, his palms in the air, silently asking her for peace. Gwyn furiously walked the distance between them, ignoring everyone else in the room.

The opportunity to hear Az explain himself was denied to Feyre and a smiling Cassian, as the feared Spymaster of the Night Court took the redhead by the arm and shadows swallowed the two of them away from the river house.

[needleandhammer]

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

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

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

[jisungsmochi]

favorite crime - na jaemin

favorite crime - na jaemin 

this is the second installment for my SOUR series! you can read jeno’s one here! 

a little bad boy!jaemin x troubled (?) but still a ‘goodie goodie’ reader // strangers to friends to partner in crime to strangers again :/ 

word count: 7.2k 

summary: “It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do

'Cause I was goin' down, but I was doin' it with you” 

who would have ever thought that, jaemin, the quiet boy you met in detention, would become your first love? getting involved with his shenanigans was probably the worst thing you could have done in your life. you were lucky enough to love someone like him, someone who excited you, scared you, and most of all, loved you back. but what happens when his actions suddenly have consequences? 

a/n: this summary sucks but i liked writing this alot,, explains why it took me so long to write it oops. 

tagging the bestie: @skrtbabe

//

Know that I loved you so bad

I let you treat me like that

I was your willing accomplice, honey

//

as you walked into the near-empty classroom, you made a beeline for the closest seat to the window. if you were going to be stuck in detention for two hours, you might as well have a nice view. you let out a short sigh to yourself, one hour and fifty eight minutes to go. the supervising teacher was lazily marking her class’ essays, completely choosing to ignore the entrance of na jaemin. he gave her a subtle scoff before stumbling past the desk, making his way to sit behind you. you heard him roughly place his bag onto the surface of his desk. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look back and see what he was up to. jaemin was always a mystery to you, and to everyone else in the school. despite keeping himself away from the majority, people had quite a lot to say about the boy. you heard rumours that he got stabbed (which you didn’t believe at all) but your classmate, haechan, insists he had video evidence. if anything, you don’t think you had ever spoken to jaemin in your entire life, but that was all about to change.

thirty minutes into detention and you were beyond bored. everybody was either catching up on school work or trying their best to not be caught on their phones. you opted to staring out the window, eyes following the movements of a particular butterfly. eventually, the butterfly decided it was time to leave your line of sight, causing you to let out a short huff. you heard a soft chuckle, belonging to the previously silent boy behind you. you slowly turned to face him, his eyes immediately latching to meet yours. he had his chin perched on top of his right palm, a cunning grin on his face. you gave him a glare,

“what are you laughing at?” you faintly whisper to him. this caught him off guard, he didn’t expect you to sound so stern.

“an explosion is about to happen” you grew to be more confused, what is he talking about?

“wha-“

“i’ll be right back! s-stay where you are!” your teacher suddenly blurts out, rushing out of her room as fast as she could. the rest of the students all looked over at eachother, some even opting to leave detention entirely.

you turned back to the snickering boy, who clearly had something to do with it.

“what the hell did you do?”

“put laxatives in her coffee” your jaw dropped, how the hell did he manage to do that?

“w-what’s wrong with you?”

“what’s wrong with you? learn to live a little” he suddenly stood up, slinging his bag across his body. his eyes still stayed on you, silently asking for you to follow him. this was one hell of a first impression. you weren’t sure what took over you in that moment, but you found yourself trailing behind na jaemin like a lost puppy as he led you both out of the school gates. he didn’t speak much to you, aimlessly walking to wherever the hell he needed to be.

“so what did you get into detention for?” he suddenly asked you, causing you to stiffen. you weren’t a stranger to getting into trouble, your short temper often being the root of your issues. but you weren’t exactly the most comfortable talking to new people.

“ah you’re a bit shy? i’ll start then, i stole lee haechan’s clothes after gym practice” he smirked to himself, feeling some sense of pride.

“that was you? he was running around school butt naked because of you” you couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of seeing two full ass cheeks after your history class.

“that’s what he gets for claiming that he has proof i got stabbed? which is ridiculous by the way” jaemin shakes his head before coming to a complete stop. you slightly bump into his right shoulder, quickly stabilising yourself before looking at the quiet cafe infront of you.

“hungry?” you nodded in response, following him into the cafe. he seemed to have known some of the workers, earning you a free croissant and hot chocolate.

“so, i told you why i got into detention, now it’s your turn” he chimed, clearly entertained by having you as company.

“i punched kim yuna in the face” you slightly cringed at your own words. you weren’t the one to be physical in your confrontations, but this girl really struck a nerve.

“sheesh, i saw her earlier, you gave her nose a good bruising, i must say” he couldn’t help but find the entire thing entertaining. this was so odd to you, every person that had witnessed it, thought you went crazy. but here jaemin was, laughing at the situation.

“you think this is funny?” you asked curiously, rather than in a judgemental manner.

“well yeah, i don’t know why you did it, but she probably deserved it” he shrugged, taking a bite of his own pastry. you felt your shoulders begin to relax, infact your entire demeanour had changed. jaemin was the only person that didn’t push you to admit your faults and apologise. he didn’t need to know the whole story, he just took your words for what they were.

the next hour consisted of you and jaemin, sharing stories on some of the mischievous things you had gotten up to in the past. from small things like setting off stink bombs during an exam, to running from the mall cops after stealing a pair of pants from a store. jaemin liked your reactions to his stories, at first your face would be full of shock, then turn into some sort of enlightenment. he found it quite endearing to watch. he wasn’t too bad on the eyes either.

“need me to walk you home?”

“i don’t need you to do anything for me” jaemin just smirked at your response,

“but i wouldn’t mind if you did”

“ah i see how it’s going to be”

“what do you mean?”

“our relationship, it’s going to be very push and pull” what on earth was he on about?

“you got that from just spending a few hours with me?” jaemin nodded, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“i think we’ll be spending a lot of time together” was all he said back. if you had told yourself earlier that day, that you’d become na jaemin’s partner in crime, you’d punch yourself in the face. but this was only the beginning.

//

from that day onwards, you would purposely seek out jaemin’s presence. whether it be you walking to the most isolated parts of school, or simply trying to get into detention in the case he was there again. as a result of the laxative prank, jaemin had earned a two week long suspension. you had caught wind of this information from the school’s chatterbox, haechan. you’d think after being humiliated by jaemin, he’d keep his name out of his mouth.

you decided to visit the same cafe you accompanied jaemin to, incase he was hanging out there. you weren’t sure why you wanted to be around him so much. if anything, you were more at risk of getting another detention, or becoming a social outcast. but you were going to take those chances.

as you entered the cafe, your eyes scanned near and far for any sight of the black haired boy. you were about to give up, when you heard a voice,

“stalking me now?” you immediately froze, too nervous to turn back. you felt jaemin’s hand on your shoulder, slowly turning your around to face him.

“i-i no it’s not what it looks like-“

“it’s fine, you must have missed me, no?” he let a cocky grin land on his face. you just rolled your eyes, ready to walk right back out that door.

“let’s get up to some trouble today” he gripped your wrist gently, dragging you out of the cafe. he didn’t let go of you, once again, you were aimlessly following him. why did you let him do this to you?

jaemin wasn’t too much of a talker, he tended to try and speak with his eyes. you found it interesting, the way he expected you to know exactly what was on his mind. he eventually stopped walking after reaching an abandoned building. you were beginning to feel slightly anxious, noticing that the sun was slowly setting and the breeze was getting cooler. jaemin plopped his carry bag on the concrete floor, you heard clinking sounds erupt from the bag. he moved to pull out a few spray cans.

“ever graffitied?” you shook your head,

“not spray painting, but i’ve drawn some not so pleasant pictures in the bathroom stalls” you shrug as he handed you a can of bright yellow spray paint. he slightly chuckled at your anecdote, which made you look down at the ground.

“well you won’t get in trouble for messing up this place”

“what is this place anyway?” you start to shake the can, watching as jaemin started spraying onto the blank wall.

“somewhere i come when i don’t feel like going home” you weren’t sure if you wanted to press him to elaborate, so you just nodded, beginning to spray a random design of your own.

jaemin found hanging around you quite amusing. you were always up for anything he wanted to do. you seemed so cheerful about the simplest things, and never pushed him to explain the questionable things about himself. you were a lot different than the people he would usually surround himself with. but like many things in na jaemin’s life, they often went sour very quickly.

//

And I watched as you fled the scene

Doe-eyed as you buried me

One heart broke, four hands bloody

//

jaemin had asked you to accompany him to the abandoned building one night. you were half asleep and freezing to death as you approached his car. it was quite beat up, making you worried,

“is this thing even safe to be driving?” you groan as you wrap yourself in your large puffer jacket. jaemin had previously insisted you bring a sleeping bag and pillow. you chose not to question it, too tired to argue back with him.

“don’t disrespect my sweet ride! be grateful i didn’t make you walk in the cold” he scoffed before starting the engine. the car ride was fairly quiet, you were drifting in and out of sleep, in which jaemin noticed. he thought you looked so peaceful, so he tried his best not to make any sharp turns or run over many speed bumps. in a matter of time, he parked the car, gently wiggling your shoulder. you woke up instantly, feeling his cold hand on your cheek. you furrowed your eyebrows before following him out of the car. he led you to the same wall you both had graffitied on before, but this time, it seemed to have become a complete picture.

“i wanted to show you this! isn’t it cool?” he gleamed, pulling you to his side, slightly rubbing your shoulder to warm you up. you quickly ignored his touch, focusing back on the wall. it was a mirage of different doodles and words that must have meant something to jaemin.

“this is amazing, you did this all by yourself?”

“yeah, i really wanted to see your reaction”

“what does it all mean?”

“it’s kind of a representation of what goes on in my mind? i’m not the best with expressing my feelings with words, so i decided to let it out on this wall” jaemin spoke with such ease, his voice filling your ears with warmth. he pulled you closer to him when he saw you shiver,

“care to share?” you slightly joked. jaemin never got too deep with you, so you assumed he would brush the comment off. but he just stares back at you, his eyes piercing into your own. you held your breath as he leaned in closer to you.

“sure thing” he slowly leads you back to the car, turning on the heater as you both wrapped yourselves in sleeping bags. you were huddled up in the back seat, your head leaning on his shoulder as he played with his fingers.

“i never had an outlet for my imagination. my parents weren’t the most warm or loving people in the world. i barely remember anything from my childhood, except for the unpleasant memories. when i started hanging out with some of the older kids, they showed me the ropes of their crew. they taught me how to graffiti, how to carve things with a pocket knife, you know, basic seventh grade stuff” he let out a soft chuckle, but you didn’t laugh. instead you placed your hand over his, feeling the coldness shoot through your body.

“i-i don’t like showing how i feel. because i think it makes me weak, or pitiful. that’s a bad way of thinking, but i can’t help it. so i let out my frustrations here, by either spray painting or smashing random things. it’s nice to get it all out” he stops speaking, his posture suddenly stiffening. you lifted your head from his shoulder, forcing him to look over at you.

“i’m here to listen to you. you don’t have to result to destroying things in order to reveal your feelings. you can just talk to me next time, okay?” you assured him, tightening your grip on his hand. jaemin just nodded, his eyes faltering from yours. why were you so considerate towards him?

“wanna know why i punched yuna in the face?” you saw jaemin crack a smile, nodding frantically.

“she said some things about my family, how they only took me in because they felt sorry for me. see, i’m actually a foster kid, my real parents weren’t in the ‘right state of mind’ to take care of me. well, in the eyes of the law atleast” jaemin didn’t know how to respond, opting to pulling your head back into his shoulder.

“i know she was just trying to rile me up, my foster parents aren’t terrible. but hearing those words just struck a nerve. how can people be so judgmental?”

“that’s just life, love. everyone will always have their own opinions, but it’s up to you, on how to respond. or you can simply choose to ignore them, it’s always worked for me” jaemin started tracing small patterns on the back of your hand, feeling his eyes become drowsy.

“but i don’t want to always ignore my problems. i want to be able to face them, how else will i grow as a person?” you sighed,

“we grow each and every day, most of the time we don’t notice. you’re doing better than you think. sure, you’ll grow up soon enough, you’ll develop your own identity, but for now, enjoy the moment. don’t care too much about what others think, this is your life to lead” jaemin looked down at you, feeling a warm sensation reach his heart.

“for someone who doesn’t like speaking his mind, you sure give some great advice. promise we’ll be there for eachother?” you pull out your pinky finger from his grip, watching as he blinks for a few seconds. you sensed some hesitation, but blamed it on him being tired. eventually, jaemin linked his pink with yours, sealing it with a gentle press of his lips. you couldn’t hide how flustered you had gotten, burying your head in his chest as he started stroking your hair.

“thankyou for being with me tonight” he mumbled as he felt himself fall asleep,

“anytime”

//

sometimes jaemin would leave you hanging for days on end. at first you would get concerned, mainly for his own safety. you were never sure what he got up to in his spare time, and to be honest, you didn’t want to know. but after a certain amount of days, he would pop back into your life that nothing happened, as if no time had passed. today was one of those days. he was sitting on your bedroom floor, flicking through your history notes. you couldn’t pry your eyes away from him, he looked so peaceful.

“you’re so much smarter than me” he huffs, scratching his head as he closed your notebook.

“no way, i’m pretty average. you’re more street smart than i am” jaemin perks up at your words,

“i guess i am huh” he smirks to himself, making you slightly smile.

“i can help you study if you want, you need a pass, right?” you scooted over to him, sitting so that your shoulders brushed against eachother.

“well yes, technically. but passing doesn’t secure i’ll get into college. not that i can even go” he shrugs, eyes focused on his rings, beginning to fiddle with them.

“what do you mean?”

“i don’t have the grades, my parents barely have any money saved for my college fund. i don’t have a job, you see the issue here?” you sensed him stiffen up next to you, this topic clearly striking a nerve within him. you placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it,

“you know college isn’t for everyone. i’m sure you will be able to live a good life” jaemin knew you were trying your best to cheer him up. but these were constant thoughts and struggles he had been dealing with for what seemed like a lifetime. he knew you would never fully understand, and he couldn’t be mad at you for that.

“y-yeah, i’ll be fine” he sighs, linking is fingers with yours. you worried about jaemin so much, it slowly began to take over your mind. you caught yourself thinking about him more often, how you wanted to be there for him during his dark times. but jaemin always shoved off the idea of getting too deep with his emotions. sure, he trusted you with most things, but there was always a thought in the back of his mind. you were way too good for him.

//

“what is this?” you smiled brightly at the boy standing across from you. he was leant up against your locker, gift bag in his hands, shoving it towards you.

“a token of my appreciation for our growing friendship” you chose to ignore the last word, your feelings towards jaemin still being undecided.

you slowly open the bag, your eyes landing on a small box. you furrowed your eyebrows, before opening it.

“t-this is beautiful, jaemin. how did you afford this?” you gasped, pulling out the shiny necklace from the delicate box. it was a silver chain, that sparkled under the light at just the right angle. there was a small pendent latched onto it, a butterfly.

“don’t worry about that, do you like it?” he grinned at you, taking in your ecstatic reaction,

“of course! i cant thank you enough!”

you pull him into a warm hug, arms tightening around his torso. jaemin chuckled softly, bringing his arms to wrap around your frame, slowly swaying you side to side.

“being there for me is enough, i promise”

//

The things I did

Just so I could call you mine

The things you did

Well, I hope I was your favorite crime

//

the following few days, jaemin went MIA again. you were beginning to become annoyed by his lack of communication. you wanted to believe he was gone for good reason, but something in your gut sensed something worse was happening. that’s when you decided to go to the abandoned building, remembering he often went there when he wanted to be alone. not having a car of your own caused many issues in your life. like right now, you were huffing and puffing once you hopped off your bicycle. you quickly set it aside, making your way to the building. before you turned to the main corridor that you met jaemin in many times before, you heard hushed voices, one belonging to the boy in question.

“we need this deal done asap. no excuses” a deep voice echoes through the building. you couldn’t get a good look at them without being caught, so you remained hidden behind a huge slab of concrete.

“b-but what if they think i’m scamming them because i’m new?” jaemin squeaked. you had never heard him so worried before.

“well you better think of some way to get them to buy, we can’t risk anymore losses. take this as initiation into the big boys club” what the hell was going on?

soon enough, the small group of men had left the building, walking past the concrete slab you were hiding behind. you let out a sigh of relief before rushing to jaemin. his eyes widened at the sight of you, part of him wanting to yell at you for being so stupid.

“what are you doing here?!” he was mad.

“i could ask you the same thing” you scoffed. jaemin suddenly became quiet, eyes avoiding yours.

“what’s going on? and i want the truth. the whole truth” he just sighed, dragging you back to his car. you folded your arms, in disbelief from what you had heard prior.

“i-i’m helping them with some deals okay? it’s just a side hustle to get some cash, i want to get out of this town. this is the only way”

“what are you dealing? drugs?” you gasped, watching as jaemin snapped his neck to face you.

“yes, it’s not as bad as you think-“

“not as bad? they’re literally part of a gang. do you know what happens to people who don’t seal these deals?” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“i know the risks. but i’m desperate. i just need enough to buy an apartment in another city and finally start my life” jaemin doesn’t know why he’s bothering trying to explain this to you. he brushed his fingers through his hair roughly, letting out a groan as he did so.

“when i said there are ways for you to live a good life, i didn’t mean deal drugs. i meant get an apprenticeship or something! literally anything but this”

“there’s nothing you can do to change my mind. i already swore i’d do this deal. i need the money. you wouldn’t understand” jaemin struck back, feeling attacked by your words.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean? i-i can’t do this. come back to me when you’ve come to your senses. this is stupid and you know it” you rush out of his car, causing jaemin to trail behind you as you stumbled to find your bike.

“come with me” you stopped in your tracks.

“pardon?”

“come with me to the deal. i-i don’t want to go alone” he says barely above a whisper,

“you’re crazy if you think i’ll follow you like a lost pup-“ jaemin pressed his lips on yours, hands stuck to your waist, gently rubbing your sides as he deepened the kiss. your words became jumbled as he continued to kiss you. as much as you wanted to argue back with him, feeling his lips on yours was only something you had experienced in your dreams.

“please” he whispered, pulling away from you momentarily.

“o-okay” you whispered back, hands now on his shoulders. jaemin smirked with pride before pulling you in once again. he led you back to his car, dragging you into the backseat. he began trailing kisses down your neck, erupting a pleased sigh from you. and just like that, you were wrapped around his silly little finger.

//

you were now seated in the passenger seat of jaemin’s busted ass car. your nerves were off the charts, and so were his. you had never seen him so anxious before, he was breathing in quick successions and couldn’t stop shaking.

“just get it over and done with...okay? get in and get out” you try your best to ease his nerves but how much could you really say? you were encouraging him to commit to a drug deal, this was not how you expected your friday night to go.

jaemin just nodded, clutching onto something in his jacket pocket. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gently stroking your hair as he did so.

“thankyou for coming with me” he mumbled. you just nodded, trying to ignore your intense gut feeling that something was going to go wrong. he led you by your waist into the noisy bar. you kept your head down, allowing jaemin to gain sight of the clients. he didn’t let you approach the group of men, so you tried to distract yourself with a random fruity cocktail from the bar. it wasn’t enough to push aside your worries.

after what seemed like hours, you caught sight of jaemin, who seemed like he was in a rush. he quickly scooped you away from your seat, swiftly leading you out of the bar. before you could even open your mouth, he interjects,

“no time for questions, get in the car now” he harshly shoved you into the passenger seat. now you were more worried than before.

“what the fuck is going on?!” jaemin didn’t answer you, starting the engine of the car. before you could press him any further, the same group of men rushed out of the bar, eyes scanning for the boy next to you. this wasn’t good.

“may or may not have given them the wrong amount...nothing a little hide and seek can’t fix!” jaemin tried to laugh it off, but you knew he was equally as scared. his dingy car wouldn’t start, adding to the panic in the atmosphere. the group of men were already in their own vehicle, approaching jaemin’s car rather quickly.

“fuck fuck fuck” he began shouting, slamming his foot on the accelerator as the car hurled forward. in a matter of time, he was speeding down the street. he probably ran a couple red lights and a few stop signs, but he wasn’t fazed. you on the other hand, were about to throw up. jaemin kept taking sharp turns to throw off the car chasing you, he barely looked back. you were terrified in this moment. anything could go wrong, one wrong turn, and it could all be over. soon enough, he stopped right outside the all too familiar abandoned building. he was out of breath, the adrenaline still present in his system. you were completely frozen, still in shock at what had occurred.

“wasn’t that riveting?” he smirked. he fucking smirked?

“are you kidding me? that was fucking insane. d-don’t do this again. i don’t want any part of this anymore” you began tearing up, feeling your heart pump out of your chest. jaemin’s face dropped as he tried to hold your hand, in which you pulled away immediately.

“t-take me home. please.” he didn’t say anything back to you. he respected your wishes and took you home safely. you didn’t even want to think about the punishment he would receive from the gang for messing up the deal. the only thought of your mind was your own safety. jaemin risked your safety this time around. you would have done anything for him, but in this moment, you were beginning to regret it. na jaemin was trouble. and you needed to stay away from trouble.

//

staying away from na jaemin was harder than you thought. subtle glances from across the classroom or school courtyard wasn’t doing you any good. so you sought refuge in the library. somehow he managed to find you there too.

“y/n, please, talk to me” you continued to read the novel you weren’t interested in, trying your best to remain angry. he sat across from you, pulling down the book from your face, eyes begging to meet yours.

“there’s nothing left to say” he just sighs, never seeing you be so stubborn.

“i know what i did was wrong, i shouldn’t have put you in that posit-“

“can we please not discuss this here? where anyone can hear us?” you quickly interrupt him, pulling him to the school parking lot. out of habit, jaemin led you to his car, opening the passenger side door for you. you got chills as you sat in the seat once again, the memories flooding back.

“i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have brought you into it. i just didn’t want to be alone...you’re the only person who doesn’t make me feel alone.” jaemin could barely look at you, too embarrassed of being vulnerable.

“you know how i’m against what you’re doing. and i know i can’t change your mind. i just can’t keep worrying about your safety. it hurts me knowing that you could get hurt one day” you began sniffling, which made jaemin’s heart ache. he pulled your face to meet his own, staring at your soft features. he slowly guided his fingers to wipe away your tears.

“don’t worry too much about me, love. i’ll be just fine” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and just like that, you were dragged right back into his arms.

“be careful” you whispered against his lips,

“always”

//

You used me as an alibi

I crossed my heart as you crossed the line

And I defended you to all my friends

//

jaemin wasn’t careful. not in the slightest. he showed up at your window, hands clutching to his lower torso area as he stumbled into your room. you hushed him to be as quiet as he could but you immediately knew something was wrong. he practically fell to his knees, soft whimpers and sighs leaving his mouth. you quickly moved to turn on your lights, taking a better look at the boy in pain. your eyes travelled along his face, covered in scratches and bruises.

“you good with playing medic tonight?” he joked, trying to relieve the tension. but you were not having any of it. you pulled him into your bed, allowing him to lay on his back. he had an array of cuts over his body, including a large gash on his lower lip. you swiftly rushed to the bathroom, grabbing your not so impressive first aid kit, but it would have to do for now. you tried your best to disinfect what you cold, until you reached his torso. you saw there were specks of blood leaking onto his t shirt, which made you more worried than you were initially. jaemin just sighed, lifting up his shirt slowly. your eyes were glued on the painful wound plastered on the right side of his body.

“d-did someone stab you?!” you felt tears prickle the side of your eyes. how could he be so stupid?

“n-no, its just a cut, it’s not even that deep” he tried to play it off, but the moment you pressed the cleansing wipe onto the wound, he winced.

“stop playing the tough guy. i hate when you play tough guy” you groan, trying your best to tend to his wound. jaemin watched as your expression changed from one of concern, to annoyance.

“hey, don’t be mad at me, okay?” he brought his hand to hover over your thigh, gently stroking his fingers on the surface.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, trying his best to sit up, but you immediately pushed him back down. you moved to lay next to him, allowing yourself to finally look him in the eyes.

“i can’t always be here to take care of you like this, jaemin. as much as i want to, there are going to be times where i just can’t. you have to understand that”

“of course, i didn’t expect you to be my personal nurse or anything. i just don’t want you to leave” his words sank deeply into your thoughts.

“i-i won’t leave”

“thankyou. i promise i will take you out and we will have fun. like old times. we can go on a road trip, or even that stupid homecoming dance you keep talking about. i’ll do anything to make it up to you because i ca-“ he immediately stopped himself, clutching his side.

“just get some rest, we can continue this discussion another day. goodnight jaem” you just sighed, turning on your back to face him. jaemin didn’t know why he couldn’t finish his sentence. he does care about you. more than anyone else in the world. but why couldn’t he just say it?

you on the other hand, were too busy imagining your future with jaemin. would he be there as your partner in crime for life? or was he just someone passing by to teach you a lesson? you weren’t too sure you wanted to find out.

//

“y/n, principal lee wants to see you in his office” your economics teacher informed you during class, eyes of classmates following you as you left the room. you swore you hadn’t done anything remotely mischievous lately, besides snatching a cheat sheet for the upcoming final.

“ah yes y/n, please take a seat” principal lee invited you into his office. you tried your best to stay focused on the stubby man in front of you but you couldn’t ignore the two police officers standing to the side.

“you wanted to see me, sir?”

“yes, these officers are here to ask you some questions. don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. they just need some information for their investigation” he explains as best he could, shifting the conversation over to the two officers.

“as principal lee mentioned, we just need information. are you comfortable with us asking you a few questions?” you slowly nodded, hands beginning to clam up.

“we have reason to believe your friend, na jaemin, has been involved in an incident that occurred last thursday. he claims he was present with you that night. can you confirm this?” you immediately froze. you swore you didn’t even blink. that was the night he came to your window, all banged up a bruised. but you couldn’t tell them that part. so you went with a variation of the truth,

“yes, he was with me, we often study together and watch movies on thursdays.” you tried your best to maintain eye contact, not wanting to draw any more attention.

“have you noticed anything odd in his behaviour lately?” you knew they were just following protocol, but you weren’t prepared for any of this.

“not really. he is quite reserved naturally, but there hasn’t been anything too alarming, in my opinion” the officers just nodded, scribbling down your words.

“thankyou for your time, if we were to need any more statements from you, would you be okay with that?” you simply nodded, wanting nothing more than to get back to class.

“great, we’ll be heading off now, thankyou principal lee, and y/n” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. what in god’s name happened that night?

“why were the cops coming out of the office? did you do something?” your friend, jimin asked you as she rushed to your side.

“n-no, they were asking about jaemin” you sighed. you didn’t want to tell her much, knowing she wasn’t his biggest fan.

“y/n, you have to stop hanging out with him so much. he’s bad news. i mean, he’s got the cops questioning you? is that someone you really want to be with?” you knew she had your best interest at heart, but she didn’t know jaemin like you did. no one did.

“don’t talk about him like he’s some pest in my life. he makes me happy, okay? i’d do pretty much anything for him” you huff, beginning to walk away.

“but would he do anything for you?” her words made you stop in your tracks. she was right to question that. god, even you questioned it sometimes. would he?

//

And now every time a siren sounds

I wondеr if you're around

'Cause you know that I'd do it all again

//

jaemin insisted he take you to the homecoming dance — he even pinky promised you.

“jaemin! i’m so excited for tonight, what time are you coming by?” you excitedly squeal into the phone, making jaemin slightly chuckle.

“uh love, i-i don’t think i can make it tonight” you felt your heart drop.

“what? why?”

“i have some business to take care of. i promise you i’ll take you out soo-“

“i think you should stop making promises you can’t keep. hope you have fun doing whatever you’re doing” you immediately hung up, wiping the stray tears from your face. you quickly pulled yourself together. showing up alone to the homecoming dance after you told your friends you were going with jaemin, was probably one of the most embarrassing things you had ever experienced. they all felt pity for you, dragging you to dance, trying to get you to forget about jaemin. but nothing was working. you were beyond disappointed, partially in yourself, for believing he could actually keep his promise.

the moment you got home, you saw someone sitting on the steps just outside your front door. you let out a loud sigh, hoping he heard everything. you wanted to push right past him and go to bed, but jaemin trapped you in his arms. you felt something was off about him. he was stiff as a board, he didn’t say anything to you. you finally got a glimpse of his face, his right eye was swollen and there was a slight gash on his cheek. you immediately gasped, all your anger towards him had fizzled away.

“w-what happened?” you barely whispered, bringing your hand to the side of his face. jaemin winced as he felt the touch, quickly pulling away.

“finally got what was coming” he tried to laugh it off, but he knew you weren’t going to laugh back. instead, you allowed him to follow you to your room, hoping your parents were fast sleep.

jaemin slowly made his way to sit on your bed. you felt like he had something else he was hiding from you, but your main focus was yet again, tending to his wounds.

“i’m getting some real déjà vu right now” you sighed, cleaning his face. jaemin tried his best to not move, but everything stung. he really got it bad this time.

“i’m sorry for breaking my promise. i know how much the dance meant to you” he softly muttered, eyes avoiding yours.

“i-it’s okay”

“no it’s not! you do so much for me, and i couldn’t even do this one thing for you. i feel so shitty. why do you even keep me around? i’m deadweight and that’s trouble for someone with wings” he scoffs, replaying harsh words he had heard from others in the past. you slowly plucked away the medical kit, turning to face him properly. (a/n: not me using a quote from the show ‘panic’)

“you’re not deadweight...you’re a good person, jaem. you’re good to me, that’s what matters” you gently push away the stray strands of hair that covered his forehead. he smiled at your touch, leaning into your palm as you brought it to cup his cheek.

“i love you”

you almost choked on your own saliva...he loves you?

“w-what?”

“yikes, not the response i was hoping for” he yet again, tried to relieve the tension with a joke. but you weren’t having any of it.

“can you be serious for one minute in your life? you can’t just say something like that and not expect me to freak out! i mean, do i love you too? of course i do! i would be stupid not to, but jaemin, you cant just spit that out of nowhere!” you began pacing around your room, which made jaemin smile even wider.

“well i just did. and i mean it” he stood to meet you, standing in the middle of your room as he held your shoulders in place.

“s-so what happens now?” jaemin hesitated for a moment, did he just ruin everything?

“we can’t be together”

“pardon?”

“i-i can’t do that to you. i can’t let you be with someone like me. i’m constant danger. the cops are going to get me one day, and i don’t want you to see it happen” he started rambling, you were barely understanding anything.

“this makes no sense. you’re telling me that you love me but you can’t be with me? why would you do this to me?” you started sobbing,

“i-i don’t expect you to understand. i just needed to tell you before...” he paused, pulling you closer to him. but you pushed yourself away. you didn’t want to hear anymore but forced yourself to listen. you needed answers.

“before what?” you gritted through your teeth,

“before i leave” your eyes widened, tears stopped flowing for a moment. you couldn’t make out any words, allowing jaemin to explain,

“i cant stay here, not in this town. i need to go somewhere else. somewhere they won’t find me. somewhere i can start over” he sighed, sitting back down on your bed.

“take me with you! we can go tonight, i don’t care where i am, as long as you’re with me i’ll be okay!” you begged, pulling out your duffel bag from under your bed. but jaemin quickly gripped your wrists, pulling you to sit with him on the bed.

“y-you can’t come with me. it’s not fair on you, or me. i want you to have a better life, a life with no regrets. you have so many goals, i can’t hold you back from them. i won’t” he insisted, holding your hands in his as he pleaded you with his eyes. you weren’t thinking straight, everything became so overwhelming.

“why are you doing this to me? i cant do this without you! i cant get through all of this without you. please don’t leave” your hands began to shake. jaemin brought them to his lips, placing soft pecks on each knuckle in an attempt to calm you down.

“you can. i know you can. because you’re you. an incredibly loyal, intelligent and courageous person. you don’t need me. if anything, i need you more” he smirked at the last part. you kept shaking your head, not believing anything he was saying.

“just promise me one thing?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that your foreheads touched.

“don’t forget me. don’t forget all the things we got up to. i had so much fun with you, more fun than i’ve had in my entire life. i can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. i love you, okay? i’ll always love you” finally, he kissed you. his hands dragged to your waist, rubbing over the soft skin. you shined into the kiss, partially still upset with his departure.

“can we just have one last night together?” you pulled away, wiping away the rest of your tears. jaemin softly nodded, pulling you down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you.

“thankyou for being my partner in crime. i’ll miss you” he sighed, gently scribbling random doodles on your arm with his fingers.

“i miss you already. maybe one day, we’ll meet again? i don’t know, am i being silly?” you didn’t want him to answer, afraid he’d break another promise.

“you’re not silly at all. we’ll see what life has planned for us” he responded. that was enough for you. you’ll leave it up to fate. you were just happy you were spending one last night with the boy you loved so dearly.

//

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do

'Cause I was goin' down, but I was doin' it with you

Yeah, everything we broke and all the trouble that we made

But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

Oh, look what we became

//

you awoke the very next morning in an empty bed. your heart sunk, knowing jaemin was gone had finally hit you. your eyes drifted to where he once was, landing on a piece of paper.

‘go to the building for one last goodbye. i hope you like it.

- jaem <3 ‘

you quickly got changed and rushed there as fast as you could. would he be there to bid you farewell? you weren’t betting on it, but was still curious as to what he had to show you. you made your way into the building, your eyes cascading over all the graffiti. finally, you saw exactly what he left for you. he painted over the mural you both worked on. it had been replaced with a painting of a butterfly. its wings were all different colours, you could tell he spent ages on it. you finally reached the bottom of the artwork, a small inscription was engraved,

‘for the one with the wings, keep on soaring’

“so cheesy, i hate it” you joke to yourself, smiling at his words. this was his final gift for you. as you admired the painting once again, memories of all your little adventures came rushing back. everything you did together seemed like an eternity ago. although you wished you had confessed to him sooner, or kissed him harder, you knew that he was gone for good. jaemin wasn’t the time to keep many promises, so you’ve learnt. you started to put your faith in the universe. if you were meant to be, then you would meet again. but for now, you were content with everything you had gone through together. you were grateful to have known someone as amazing as jaemin, and you would never take that for granted. you only hoped he would do the same, no matter where you both were in life. you hoped you could both grow wings and soar through life without any regrets.

[luminnara]

I wonder what Dick would be like trying to flirt on the lead up if the mission, trying to be smooth and cool before screaming next to Weasel. The back track of trying to be cool again after than freak out would be glorious and I would probably fall for it, lol

Dick Hertz x fem!reader

This ended up way longer than intended and I am not mad about that lol

Sfw but raunchy!

Requests for oneshots and HCs are open!

You were no stranger to the concept of the suicide squad.

Thanks to your own colorful past, and powers that you couldn’t always quite control at first, you were stuck serving out a long ass sentence at Belle Reve, the shittiest shit hole of them all. Your only escape from the mundane, high-security monotony was the occasional mission from Waller.

The Suicide Squad—more officially known as Task Force X—was the latest installment in Amanda Waller’s series of highly classified, top secret, black ops teams. She chose Belle Reve’s most infamous criminals, many of whom had extraordinary powers and even more extraordinary reputations, and tossed them together on incredibly dangerous missions. You knew she didn’t care whether you lived or died, but successfully completing such impossible tasks always cut time off your sentence, and with nothing else to do with your time, you always thought it was worth the risk.

And besides...you hadn’t died yet.

So when Waller approached you during your daily yard time, you already knew what to expect.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled as you followed her into the exam room and plopped down in the same old chair. “I know the drill. I go off mission, you blow my brains out.”

“—with the explosive device implanted in the base of your skull. Correct.” Waller said, unimpressed.

“And what, you have to give me a fresh one?” You raised an eyebrow as the doctor made you lean forward. “Lose the button for the last one or something? Or are you afraid that just one won’t do the job?”

Waller looked even less impressed. “I suggest you put a lid on that attitude today.”

“Why?” You winced at the feeling of a thick needle pushing into the back of your neck. “Jesus, fuck! Seriously, how many little bombs do I need in my head?”

“Good luck, puppy.” The doctor sneered as you stood up to follow Waller back out into the corridor.

“This is a black ops mission.” She continued with her usual spiel. “Your commanding officer is Colonel Rick Flag.”

You gasped. “The Colonel Rick Flag?”

She turned to glance at you.

“I have no idea who that is.”

You could hear her sigh in exasperation. “Suit up and go outside to the transport. You’ll meet the rest of the team and fly out to Corto Maltese.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Yeah, the Suicide Squad was a nice distraction from your shitty everyday life...but putting your ass on the line for someone who didn’t give a shit whether you lived or died, and who was always hovering above the button that would splatter your brains all over the wall, wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world.

Waller waited as you ducked into a room to change. There was a black box waiting for you, and upon opening it, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your old gear. The dark gray leather suit fit like a glove, and your gun had been cleaned and polished after your last mission, the painfully bright fluorescent lights reflecting off of the barrel with a gleam. You grabbed your gloves and strapped your ammo belts on before buckling a gray carbon fiber mask on.

Wearing your own stuff always lifted your spirits. It was the suit you’d been arrested in a few years ago back in Metropolis, and after seizing it, the feds had been nice enough to give it some upgrades with newer tech. Anything to make you a better government-sanctioned killing machine, you guessed, and it’s not like you were gonna turn it down. After all, killing was how you ended up in Belle Reve in the first place, and it was one of the only things you were good at...it just made sense for Waller to want to put your near-inhuman skills to good use.

You walked out to join her again, lugging a canvas bag of equipment and supplies along behind you.

“Pick that up and carry it correctly.” She snapped as the doors at the end of the hall opened.

“Why don’t you eat my—“

You interrupted yourself by groaning at the bright sunlight as it hit your eyes, raising a hand to shield your face as you managed to spot an armored truck waiting for you.

“You’ll have a lot of new teammates.” Waller called after you. “Be on your best behavior. I’m not responsible for anything they do to you.”

“Probably just a bunch of old farts like always!” You yelled back as you jumped up into the back of the vehicle.

Two guards sat down on either side of you as you got yourself settled in. There was another woman already waiting, her skin orange, her hair in a high ponytail that seemed to be pulled through the top of her helmet. She was regarding you with very little interest, and that was absolutely fine with you. You had a few friends within the Belle Reve prison complex, and you weren’t necessarily looking for more.

The ride was short and uneventful. You passed through a few gates that took forever to open, waited for a few security checks, the usual shit. When the truck came to a halt and you hopped out again, you were at a small airbase hosting a few hangars for planes and helicopters, one of the latter already sitting outside. Guards from Belle Reve were lining the circle of armored vehicles, and as yours joined them and the back doors were opened once more, you grimaced at the bright sunlight.

“Afraid of a little sun?” The orange woman laughed, baring her teeth at you.

“Hurts my eyes,” you mumbled, jumping down after her.

You landed on pavement, looking down at your feet in an attempt to avoid the oncoming headache you knew was imminent. When your shoulder rammed into someone, though, you had to look up anyway.

What you saw wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

A good looking blond guy was looking down at you, a cocky grin on his face. “Whoa, didn’t realize we were getting a babe this time!”

You glared at him, grateful for the mask covering the lower half of your face.

He couldn’t see you blush that way.

“Little girl’s got some ammo, huh?” He reached for one of the belts strapped across your chest,

Your hand flew up to grab his wrist and you held him in a Vice-like grip, your glare more pointed now. “Touch me, and you can see some of it from behind your eyeballs.”

Blondie whistled lowly, relaxing his arm. “You’re tough, huh? I like that in a girl.”

You dropped his wrist and rolled your eyes. “Still gonna like it when I’m ripping your balls off?”

You could swear he was swooning on his feet. “Baby, you are a goddamn tease...”

“Oy, Dickhead!” An Australian voice rang out, “back off!”

His grin faltered for a moment, obvious disappointment flashing over his face. “Oh. Got a man already. Damn.”

“Who, Boomer?” You grinned, unclipping your mask as you turned to wave at one of your only friends. “Nah, I’d never fuck that wanker.”

“I heard that!” The gold-toothed Aussie yelled.

You let out a loud laugh as you looked back to blondie.

You were caught off guard by the actual, genuine look on his face. He was admiring your smile now that your mask was off, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second longer than they should have. He was trying to be smooth, you could tell, and most people wouldn’t have noticed something so slight...but you were an assassin working your way through a couple life sentences, and you weren’t most people.

It all only lasted a moment before the cocky grin was back. “So, after this, you wanna come back to my cell, maybe we could, you know...” he waggled his eyebrows at you, making a hip thrusting motion you almost couldn’t believe a grown criminal was making.

“Maybe focus on not dying first, slim.” You patted his chest before turning towards Boomer, leaving blondie to stare after you—or more precisely, your ass—with a dramatic, longing look.

Your friend was regarding you with an amused expression. “Flirtin’ on the job? Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Shut up.” You punched his arm a little too hard and he winced. “Who is that guy, anyway?”

“Dick,” Boomer said, rubbing his arm.

“Don’t call me a dick—“

“No, dumbass, that’s his name. Richard Hertz.”

“...very funny, Boomer, but there’s no fucking way his parents named their kid Dick Hertz.”

Boomer shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, I don’t care. Either way, it’s the truth.”

You scoffed and stole a glance over at your new admirer. He was tall and pretty well built, platinum blond hair short, lips pulled back in a grin that showed off straight white teeth. He was dressed in all black, two guns holstered to his chest, and as he messed with a Belle Reve guard by pretending to reach for one, he looked like an overgrown child who should not have been allowed to hold onto firearms.

“Please tell me he’s got a cooler name,” you groaned.

“Why? So you can scream it at night?” Boomer cackled. “He goes by Blackguard. He’s pretty strong from what I hear. Prolly pretty fun in bed, too.”

You wrinkled your nose and rounded on Boomer. “Shut up.”

“You like him.” Your friend grinned. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Just remember to name your kid after good ol’ Uncle Boomer.”

You gave him a rough shove and he stumbled back a few steps, laughing like a madman the entire time.

“Hey!” One of the guards barked at you.

Rather than pushing your luck with your armed babysitters, you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. More cars were pulling up, dropping off the rest of your comrades, and while Boomer was distracted with them, you stole another glance at Dick.

He was still messing with the same guard, and was receiving some harsh warning glares in the process. Was he a complete idiot, or was he so cocky because he could actually handle it? He had to have ended up in Belle Reve for a reason. It wasn’t the type of place you went to for innocent misdemeanors. And if he was chosen for a Suicide Squad mission, that meant that his sentence was long enough to warrant risking his life to lessen it...and it also meant that he was useful.

When he winked at you, you realized with a start that he had totally noticed the way you were checking him out.

Fuck.

“Time to load up!” A voice yelled, saving you from any further embarrassment.

A few minutes later, you were strapping yourself into your seat on the chopper, pretending not to notice as Dick struggled with his seatbelt across from you. The guy sitting next to him had to help, and when you finally couldn’t help yourself, you let out a quiet laugh from behind your mask.

Dick’s head shot up to look at you, that cocky grin plastered to his face again.

“Wish you were over here helpin’ me,” he said bravely. “Rather have your hands down by my—“

“Dick.” Colonel Flag warned as he stood above you all with his gun in his hands.

Boomer let out a loud laugh at the unintentionally dirty euphemism and you snorted.

“What? Just makin’ some conversation,” Blackguard said, leaning towards you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. “You don’t mind, do ya, Princess?”

Your cheeks were heating up behind your mask, and he could see the way your eyes crinkled slightly with your smile.

God, he wished he could see your smile again.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice said. “Had to go number two.”

“...Good to know.” Flag sighed as none other than Harley Quinn herself hopped in.

“Harley!” You called, reaching for her with grabby hands as she looked for her seat.

“Hey there, baby!” The pale blonde woman greeted, slamming her equipment bag into Savant’s head. “Hey, Boomer!”

“What’re you doin’ back in prison, Harls?” Boomer asked, hanging onto the nylon mesh cage behind him as he stretched his arms out.

“Got road rage. In a bank.” She finally found a spot between you and Javelin, and as Flag checked everyone over, the chopper took off into the air.

The lighting was dim and red, the thrumming of the helicopter blades blending in with the white noise of the pressurized cabin. Save for that, it was quiet for a while, everybody either sizing each other up, or, in Dick’s case, imagining how you looked under your suit.

“So, uh...how much longer you in for?” He asked you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I don’t exactly think I should be talkin’ about sneakin’ into your cell while Flag is here to rat me out about it,” Dick grinned.

You caught the colonel rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that never stopped anybody,” Harley said brightly.

“Boutta be in a whole big ass jungle,” Boomer elbowed you in the side. “Plentya room in there to be alone.”

You groaned as Dick gave you a sly grin.

“Y’know, this mission’ll be over in no time.” He said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “I’ve got some wicked ass powers. I got this.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, recognizing the way he was trying to peacock and impress you. “Not worried about anything?”

“Baby, I’ll carry this whole team. Just you watch.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Dick.” You bit his name out as more of an insult, but he didn’t seem to care, giving you another wink.

He obviously thought that his flirting and posturing was working...but you were pretty sure he was just annoying. Cute, but annoying. Maybe good for a hook up here or there...but that was about it.

“We’re in a butcher’s freezer, Harls!” Boomer called from the other end of the bench. “Surrounded by dead hogs hangin’ on hooks. Only they don’t know it yet.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Boomer!” She called back with a laugh.

You chuckled at your friends, leaning your head back as you settled in for the flight. Harley was complimenting Javelin’s accent, you still didn’t know what TDK stood for, and Boomer was just starting to mess with him about the fact that all names were made of letters when the freaky weasel-thing next to Dick stole everyone’s attention.

It was one of the strangest creatures you had ever seen. Human height, covered in mangy brown fur, with big bulging eyes and a mouth full of sharp little teeth all made it both fascinating and concerning to look at, and as it made a few disgustingly wet retching sounds, Dick nodded towards it.

“Yo, is this a dog?” He asked.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief. He had to be fucking with you, right? There was no way he meant it.

“Is this thing a dog?” He repeated.

“A...a dog?”

“Yes.”

“What...what kinda dog do you think it is, mate?” Boomer asked.

“I dunno, I’m not familiar with all the breeds.” Dick gave him an incredulous look.

“I’m gonna go with Afghan hound.” TDK said.

“Since when does an afghan hound have bloody thumbs?”

“Oh my god, is it a werewolf?” Harley asked excitedly. “I’ve wanted to meet a werewolf for ever!”

Dick was already up and struggling against his restraints. “Yo, they sat me next to a werewolf?!”

“That’s not right,” TDK agreed as his neighbor slammed into him in his desperate attempt at an escape.

Boomer was laughing loudly, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re seriously scared of werewolves?”

Dick glanced up at you as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Yes, I fuckin’ am! So fuckin’—get me out! I do not fuck with werewolves, there is no fuckin’ way—“

“Maybe you should hop onto your new girlfriend’s lap!” Boomer cackled, jabbing a finger towards you.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, and as you saw the look in Blackguard’s eyes, you were pretty convinced that he was about to try to tear his way out so that he actually could.

“Hey, hey, he’s not a werewolf!” Flag yelled over the commotion. “He’s a weasel, he’s harmless! I mean, he’s not harmless, he’s killed 27 children, but I—I think we got him to—I think he’s agreed to this, so relax.”

“Thought you were super tough?” You asked as Dick calmed down and caught his breath. “Gonna carry the whole team?”

Rather than the snarky flirtation you expected, he actually looked a bit defeated. When you raised an eyebrow, though, he took the prompt, and the most desperate backtracking you had ever seen began.

“Yeah, well...” he scoffed, trying to give you a cool look. “Caught me off guard, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Off guard? Isn’t guard, like, in your name?” You teased, your smile genuine behind your mask. Alright...he was winning you over now. He was an idiot, but...maybe he was a lovable one.

He faltered for a second. “I-I mean, yeah, well...”

Flag was shaking his head. “Get into position to drop!”

Everyone unbuckled themselves and collected their things, lining up to jump into the ocean off the coast of Corto Maltese. When you saw that Dick was back to struggling with it, again, you smiled to yourself and leaned down in front of him.

“For what it’s worth...” you said as you pulled up on the metal tab, your hand dangerously close to his crotch, “I wouldn’t mind shacking up somewhere in the jungle with you.”

He stated at you with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. He really was cuter when he wasn’t putting on such a dumb, cocky facade, and he jumped up as quickly as he could to follow you.

You just laughed as you straightened up and walked away, Blackguard right on your heels. As the door opened and the big, dark ocean came into view below you, you felt a hand brushing against your hip and a firm chest press up against your back. You realized you could have stayed right there forever, patiently waiting to see how far he was brave enough to go...but you were both members of the Suicide Squad, and you had a job to do.

“I’ll see you down there, Dick,” you said, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

“See you on the other side, baby,” he grinned.

[infernalrevenge]

Hey, Kiss Me? (Don't Mind If I Do)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G

Summary: Daniela is used to being the flirty one, blowing kisses and making a pass at anyone who caught her attention. It just never occurred to her that the tables could turn on her.

Notes: [slams fists on the table] LET ME FLIRT WITH THE CUTE VAMPIRE GIRL. If RE8 had a dating sim spin-off in some alternate universe where Capcom REALLY wanted to capitalize on the game's success, one of my runs would definitely involve romancing the youngest Dimitrescu. For anyone else who feels me on this, this is for you too. I also tried writing this in 2nd person POV for a change. Hope it still turned out alright, it's my first time writing this way. Enjoy!

----------

You had been working for the Duke for quite a while now. He took you in in your time of need and had been made an apprentice of sorts in the art of trading and bargaining.

You've met your fair share of oddities while settled in the village and running errands, including but not limited to: A man who can control metal and electricity on a whim, a talking doll who lives under a waterfall, and the numerous wolf-man hybrids that lurked around the vicinity. They were what most may consider crass company -- at least, that was what the Lady of the castle would say.

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was a frequent customer and a business partner of the Duke's, helping her in the sale of her vintage "wine" to intrigued buyers. This also meant that the two of you were frequent visitors to the castle on the other side of the village proper -- a vast estate that was entirely too large for just four women to occupy (even if one of those women happened to be nine feet tall).

Miss Bela was always the more polite and civil of Dimitrescu's daughters, offering a simple greeting whenever you would come by. When it was appropriate, she was always at her mother's side and paying attention to how meetings between the older adults would proceed, like a student eager to learn from the best. You figured that, as the oldest sibling, she might take over the business someday. You weren't sure exactly how that would happen, given what you knew of the family, but you really shouldn't prod anyway. At least, not now.

Miss Cassandra was more closed off, so to speak. It always seemed like she would barely acknowledge your presence in the castle, talking only when it was necessary and immediately leaving the room once she was allowed to. However, you would feel a prickling in the back of their neck when she wasn't around, like you were being watched from the background -- prey at the mercy of their predator. But every time you turned around, there would be no one there, not even a sound to indicate escape. A part of you thought you might have been pulled into some unwitting game, wondering what would happen if you did catch the perpetrator in the act. You weren't sure you really wanted to find out.

Then, there was Miss Daniela, whose attention seemed to lie in... other prospects. Like Bela, she offered warm greetings whenever you would stop by the property. Unlike her sisters though, who never really bothered with the Duke's apprentice, she always tried to entertain herself with your company. You had a friendly enough rapport with her that you could relax in her presence as well, so it was nice. You figured it was mostly because they rarely ever got outside company, and since the sisters stay in the castle a lot of the time, she always welcomed you with enthusiasm. And a smile. And a wink. And some passing remark about how nicely you dressed that day and that you must have been trying to impress her.

"I could just eat you right up," she would say with a giggle and a playful growl.

You've never been too sure what to make of her -- she always seemed to have her head in the clouds, only coming back down at the behest of her mother or when her sisters were persistent enough. You also never knew how to respond to her flirting apart from flustered silence, which only seemed to spur her on even more. It was like she was just trying to get a reaction from you, making a game of it. It was far different from the one her older sister seemed to be keen on playing, but a game nonetheless -- how far could she push your buttons and make you implode from embarrassment?

Honestly, it seemed to be working.

You had been well-socialized thanks to your training under the Duke, and of course the man himself was charming and likeable so a part of you liked to think it may have rubbed off as he raised you. But that was when it came to formalities and negotiations -- maybe banter, if you could really push it. You've thought about responding earnestly, but flirting was another ball game all on its own, one that you don't really play on purpose, and you frequently found yourself floundering at the face of it. Especially when that face was as pretty as Daniela's.

It wasn't like you thought she liked you that way or anything -- you genuinely thought she said all those things for fun, to amuse herself with how hot you got or how you would sheepishly shrink in on yourself. But you weren't going to deny that she was cute and that you may have just a small crush on her. Just maybe. Not that you would ever admit that out loud.

----------

One winter day, the Duke entrusted you with meeting with Lady Dimitrescu on your own. She was informed of his absence beforehand -- something about attending to Lord Heisenberg's business -- and so you were left to take care of updates. In the meantime, you kept yourself busy in the guest area, perusing the dusty books in shelves that definitely needed some cleaning. It seemed like the castle could never have enough help.

As soon as you were left alone, with only your notepad and thoughts to keep you company, you felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand. You slowly looked to the side, eyes trained on a dark corner of the room. The light from the fireplace didn't quite reach that spot, making it quite the hiding place. Was something (or someone) moving from there? Are your eyes playing paranoid tricks on you? Was it Miss Cassandra playing her one-sided game again? Perhaps... you shouldn't interfere then.

You turned your attention back to the book shelf, looking high above you, wanting to take a closer look at the selection. You dragged a stool and a few stacked cushions to the shelves and slipped your shoes off, praying to whoever was out there that Lady Dimitrescu wouldn't find you like this. Oh, the scolding I'd get from Duke about manners -- you'd never hear the end of it. Stepping carefully onto the plush surface -- a few feet from the ground -- and finding your balance, you start to pick something out that had an interesting title.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Y/N," a voice echoed in the room, catching you off guard.

You jumped in surprise and lost your footing, falling backward as the cushions slipped from under you. Oh yeah, this was gonna hurt! But before you could make contact with the hardwood floor, a hand reached out and grabbed you by the waist, catching you in a rather precarious position.

"You could've hurt that cute little ass of yours," the voice cooed. Daniela seemed to have materialized from out of nowhere, wearing a mischievous grin and holding onto you as she practically hovered over you. Oh god, she was so close, you don't know where your body heat ended and hers started.

"Miss Daniela," you greeted, finally finding your voice. "Um, thanks for the save."

She pulled you up to standing on the stool and raised an eyebrow at you, smirking amusedly, "And what exactly were you doing so high up in the shelves? Aren't you supposed to be waiting here like a good little one?"

"I was just... looking at the books," you replied softly, "And falling for you, I suppose," you added as a joke, chuckling as you shook off your nerves from earlier. You were a little surprised she didn't start off with that line honestly, given how easy--

Daniela's smirk dropped at your response, eyes widening as she stiffened. Uh oh... did you say something wrong?

She blinked at you, mouth hanging open slightly as if she was trying to find the words. It looked like she gave up though, just looking away and stepping off the stool. Were you imagining that her cheeks just turned pink?

"Mother's waiting for you at the meeting room," was all she said before quickly making her exit.

It took a while before the wheels in your head started turning again.

----------

The next time you came to the castle with the Duke, it was a warm day in spring. On these occasions, sometimes Lady Dimitrescu would be more open to a different venue of meeting than inside the castle -- "for a change of scenery," as she would say. The two of you met her and her daughters at the main garden at the back of the property, the sun shining generously on all forms of life.

When Daniela spotted you, she seemed almost caught unaware, but she quickly regained composure, throwing a smirk and wink your way -- her usual greeting. You couldn't help but duck down shyly, but nonetheless waved and smiled back.

The older adults took their business elsewhere, leaving you alone with the daughters at the lobby; well, more like a daughter, since Cassandra had already left before you can say another word and Bela had excused herself soon after. It was normal for you to be in the company of the redhead at this point. Not that she seemed to mind.

"Been a while since you've been back here. Betcha missed me, huh?" Daniela said, a charming smile curled on her lips. She stood next to you, seeming intent on leading you on a little walk around. Hey, you'd take any excuse to spend time with her.

You laughed softly, "Quite, Miss Daniela."

"You're still sticking to those formalities, Y/N? Come on, you can drop the 'Miss'." She sidled up closer to you, nudging your side. "You can even skip 'Daniela' altogether and just call me yours."

You unconsciously covered your mouth as you glanced her way -- she was being more straightforward than usual. You don't know if you were just trying to hide the blood rushing to your cheeks or trying to stop yourself from smiling too widely, but seeing the smug look on the other's face, you knew she succeeded yet again in flustering you.

"What's wrong? Did summer come early? You're looking kinda warm," she teased, bending down slightly to your face level. "Then again, you are hot enough for the both of us." Damn, she was too good at this. "You'd give the sun a run for its money, honey."

You took a few moments to collect yourself, standing up straighter and clearing your throat. Your eyes looked up to meet hers, showing a half-smile as you spoke with as smooth of a delivery as you can muster, "I'd always thought you would be the sun's rival, given how easily you brighten up my day."

Daniela nearly tripped when she took another step, only managing to catch herself on a nearby bench.

"Are you--"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, just, uh... stubbed my toe on something. Stupid rock."

There were no rocks on the path you two were walking -- unless one counted the flat rock ground. (It didn't.)

The rest of the day carried on as it normally would -- Daniela distracting you from the uneasy feeling of being watched from a proper walk with her usual demeanor, batting her eyelashes and telling you how she simply must teach you to dance some time. "Maybe then you'll learn to loosen up around me." But in return, you would sometimes reply with your own quips -- "Well I wouldn't be opposed to being closer to you, Miss Daniela." You weren't about to question where this newfound confidence came from; you may as well own it, right?

It was only after that visit, replaying the day in your head like you wanted to remember it for as long as you could, that a realization came to you -- the way her cheeks tinged pink and averted her gaze, how she was rendered speechless whenever you replied in the same way that was usually expected of her...

She's not used to being flirted back to.

Her self-esteem allowed her to accept most straightforward compliments with grace, so flattery did not faze her in the slightest -- but when it came to using disarming words? When charm and wit were used right back at her?

She floundered almost as much as you did.

Suddenly, you weren't just a prop in the game anymore -- you knew how to play it now. You knew uttering such sweet (and occasionally cheesy) phrases could make the youngest Dimitrescu blush harder than a maiden being courted. And by god, did she look adorable when she did.

You kind of understood why she did all that now -- watching someone get flustered and knowing you were the cause of it was fun. It was weirdly thrilling seeing her react like that, but then again you might be confusing that feeling with different kind of fluttering in your chest whenever you were alone with Daniela. Who knows?

One thought lingered at the back of your mind though: How long would it take before one of you broke and asked the other on a real date?

.

.

.

(Cassandra materialized behind Daniela as you bade her farewell for the day. She had been observing the two of you interact for a while, monitoring the redhead's "progress". She knocked her sister out of her faraway thoughts with a smack to the head. "So are you gonna admit you like them yet?"

Daniela seemed almost offended at the insinuation, "I would nev-- I mean how dare-- I don't like-- they're just-- I--"

The brunette only raised an eyebrow.

"They're..." She thought back to you, that cute little smile you wore whenever she tried to flirt with you, and how you suddenly rose to the challenge of using her own tactics against her earlier. It was kind of hot. "Okay, I guess. They're okay. They're fine." Quite fine. "That's all I'm gonna say."

"Suuuure...")

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

Jaune Sempai AU) Weiss was a spoiled brat for a good while at the beginning, not entirely her fault but still. She got a good reality check about leadership from Port, does the same thing happen here? Or does Jaune give chip in his few cents about leadership to the new teams?

Weiss was slowly walking through the halls of Beacon, thinking about the talk she had with Professor Port just a few minutes ago. 'Savor what I have? Be the best person I can be? I'm sure I could be an even better person if I was the leader of this team... I'd learn so much more and I could help more by giving orders rather than following them! A Schnee leads, never follows! ...But...' Weiss slowly came to a stop in the middle of a hallway intersection. With it being so late, not many students were traversing the halls so she didn't need to worry about being in anyone's way. 'Was the Professor right...? About me getting everything handed to me up until now...?'

"Ah, Weiss right?" The heiress was jarred out of her pondering by a sudden voice from next to her. She turned her head to see the blond third-year she met on her first night at Beacon. Jaune Arc, was his name she believed, was standing there with a cart in front of him holding snacks, drinks, and a projector. "It's good to see you again."

Weiss stood up straight and turned to face him fully out of respect. "O-oh Jaune, it's good to see you as well."

Jaune leaned forward, and rested his forearms on the cart's handle. "I saw how you did great during initiation. It was quite impressive that the four of you were able to take out a Nevermore of that size."

Weiss felt some pride swell in her chest at the praise from such a well known upperclassman. "Well thank you, it was a rather... interesting experience teaming up like that."

"Well, you can't force teamwork. At least, not the kind the four of you showed. That stuff has to pretty much come naturally, and it did."

"Again, thank you." Weiss' eyes landed on the cart of food and drinks in front of him. "W-what might all that be for Jaune?"

"Oh this stuff? Some friends are celebrating the new semester starting today and they invited me, so I decided to grab some snacks for us all."

"Oh! Well that sounds... rather fun."

Her distracted tone wasn't lost on Jaune. The third year leaned in a bit more towards her over the cart, getting a good look at her. And her aura. "Hey... Are you doing okay? You seem a bit... down today."

Wiess was surprised by the question. "Oh! I-is it that apparent?"

"A bit." 'Well no not really. But having so many sisters and being able to see your aura dampen helps quite a lot.' "So what's up?"

Weiss wasn't sure she should complain anymore than she already had. She'd already been given a new perspective, and a small telling off, by Professor Port. Did she really want to try it again?

Well... another point a view couldn't hurt right? "Well it's just that... I was really expecting to be made team leader. Instead, Headmaster Ozpin appointed Ruby as our team's leader. A-and Professor Port already told me to let it go and just be the best huntress I can be instead, but I just don't think she's right for it!"

"And you think you'd be a better fit as the leader?"

Jaune's straight forward tone made Weiss already regret bringing it up. "W-well no... at least not anymore. Like Professor Port said, I should focus on what I have and can work with rather than what I don't." Weiss put her hands behind her and looked off to the side a bit.

"Well he is right. You weren't made team leader, not much you can do about it now. I think the Professor was right though, what you should focus on is accepting it and moving forward. Focus on improving yourself for now and working to improve your team as a member, not a leader. You and all of your teammates are on the same team. You all add to it. One person can't suddenly contribute more help or more valuable.... uuuhhh... help than the other members just because they were made the 'leader', ya know?

"Yes... I suppose that is true... But all my life I've been taught to take initiative. By my father and my sister. Neither of them were just followers, they paved their own ways."

"Your sister? You said your last name was Schnee right? Wouldn't that make your sister Winter Schnee? The Atlas Specialist?"

Weiss was caught off guard by that completely. She'd thought he'd ask about her father with her family name, not her sister. "Y-yes, she is. Do you know her?"

Jaune stood up from leaning over the cart, chuckling nervously a little bit. "Aaaaah well... I've met her in the past a few times, but I wouldn't say I really 'know' her. She's pretty strong though."

Weiss beamed happily at hearing him talk highly of her sister. "She certainly is~! I actually used to train with her occasionally and she even taught me some things she knew personally."

"Well then I'd better be careful if we were to fight haha." Jaune laughed lightly at how Weiss talked about her sister. He could almost feel Weiss's admiration for her rolling off in waves. "But you realize she needs to follow orders too right? She may be a specialist and have a high rank in the military, but she still needs to follow orders from people above her, like General Ironwood."

Weiss looked like she realized what Jaune was getting at. "I-I suppose you... aren't incorrect."

Jaune smiled and nodded a little at her understanding. "Everyone has orders and people to follow, even people with the title of 'leader'. And if not orders, then rules they need to follow. And if not rules, then some other duties or obligations. All you can really do is try and sort out which ones are the right ones for you to follow and be the best individual you can be." Jaune's warm smile dropped a bit before the next sentence. "Besides... I think you lucked out not being made the leader."

Weiss looked back over to him as she heard his voice at the last sentence lack the same tone he'd had the rest of their talk. "What do you mean by that?"

Jaune looked a bit surprised. He didn't mean to say that for her to hear. "O-oh nothing. I-it's just... I think being a leader isn't all it's cracked up to be. You have to take extra classes, work out whatever problems or kinks form in your team, be responsible for all your teammates and their actions, and honestly it won't matter a whole lot once you graduate Beacon unless you all decide to stick together and take jobs as a group. A lot more responsibility for not a lot of reward hahaha... ha ha." Jaune's awkward chuckle at the end didn't seem to ease Weiss's suspicion, so Jaune decided to finish up his point. "Just... don't think so hard on what leaders are shown or talked about as. Think about what they really are. There could still come a time where you'll need to take the lead on something. And... Ruby might appreciate your support and help."

Weiss looked really thoughtful about everything he said. Her eyes glanced down a bit in thought. "T-thank you Jaune... Both you and Port have given me quite a lot to think about..."

"Y-yeah sorry... that was a lot all at once..." Jaune rubbed the back of his head a little sheepishly. "But don't let it overwhelm you. It's your first day as a student. You have plenty of time to figure things out."

Weiss smiled softly. He was right... she'd been putting so much pressure on herself and being excellent 24/7, she forgot that she only just started. "Thank you, again. That has put my mind at ease a little."

"Glad to hear it! Now you might want to get moving. Curfew is in a little bit and trust me, you don't want Professor Goodwitch catching you out past it."

Weiss's eyes widened. She had totally forgotten how late it was! "Right! Sorry for taking up your time, but I must be going!" Weiss gave a swift nod and continued walking down the hallway she was heading towards a few minutes ago.

"No worries! I enjoyed our talk Weiss!" Jaune waved off after her until she was a good distance away, then continued on his own trip down the other one.

As the sound of the cart wheels rolling and occasionally squeaking became the only noise around him, Jaune started to let his mind drift and think about what he'd said to Weiss just a minute ago. 'Not all it's cracked up to be... yeah... what an understatement. You dodged a bullet Weiss... you just have no idea what. I hope the same bullet misses Ruby too...'

Jaune left those thoughts behind after that and just focused on making his way to Team CFVY's dorm room to meet up with everyone.

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [2]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.3K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Welcome back! I’m trying to post every Monday again, but let’s see if I can keep that up! Honestly, I can’t wait for the next few chapters because I’m going to fangirl so harddd! Look at me... over my own story.

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You came face to face with the prince’s cold, killer gaze. His blood, red eyes pierced your soul, making you unable to move a muscle. The rumors were true. Bakugou Katsuki was a very scary person. You’ve never felt more intimidated in your life like how you were right in this instant.

The prince only wore a red, fur cape with a lousy pair of pants and boots to match. His chest and stomach could be clearly shown off, battle scars raked his body. Although impressive, it proved to be even more intimidating for you.

You gulped in fear.

You had to say something. You were in the presence of your ‘fiancé’ and one of the most powerful people you’ve ever met. But you couldn’t act like yourself. Remember, you were a princess now. You’re still a servant at heart, but a princess now no less. What would the princess normally do?

Thinking back to when you would accompany her to her many visits with special guests, she was always so delicate with her movements and her words. The way she presented herself was so elegant, as a princess should be. A very different image than everyone else at the palace see her as. But you had the rare opportunity to see her in such light due to being one of the only people who attended to her everywhere. So when you were given those opportunities so see her different side, you watched her closely, mesmerized by the way she carried herself. All you had to do was imitate what you saw.

“Your highne-” you bow your head to greet him, but was rudely cut off by his deep, husky voice.

“Kirishima,” Bakugou’s voice boomed. His echoes bounced off the walls of the large throne room you were in. You jumped at just how loud his voice got. Not only were you not expecting him to be loud, but you weren’t expecting that deep of a voice.

A red-headed knight, big and scruffy with metal armor still on, stepped forward. His stance was very broad and strong, hands were crossed behind his back as his gaze was straight in front of him. He didn’t say anything but his presence was enough for Bakugou to continue.

“Show the princess to her room,” he demanded.

“Yes, Your Highness,” The one named Kirishima answered. The knight walked up to you and motioned for you to follow him. Although he was intimidating from far away, the moment you saw his face up close, you could tell from his aura that he wasn’t like his future king at all. You allowed him to take you away. But not before the prince himself had something else to say.

“Kirishima. He will be your personal guard starting today. If you need anything, go to him,” he said. You turned to face the cold prince, but his back was already turned to you. He was talking directly to you but not to you at the same time. The view of his back side was somewhat… sad. And lonely. Well talk about first impressions.

Prince Bakugou had completely disappeared from your sight. Kirishima cleared his throat and you turned your attention back on him.

“Please excuse his highness. He’s not exactly… in the mood,” the red-head enlightened you. The look he gave you was astonishingly unlike the character he first presented to you. When he stepped up, he looked just as intimidating as the Blood Prince. But now, he was all smiles. That intimidating personality vanished into thin air, like it was never present in the first place. His smile was bright and welcoming and his eyes were kind. A character that you weren’t expecting to serve under the cold killer prince.

“Shall we go?” Kirishima brought you back to reality. You hadn’t realized you were so deep in your thoughts. You must look like such a fool in that moment. You nodded your head and followed closely behind him.

On the way to your room, Kirishima showed you around the palace. Where the dining area was, the library, the study, the kitchen, the servants quarters, where Bakugou was staying and finally, where you would be residing for the time being. You knew you weren’t married yet, but you didn’t think Bakugou and the princess would be sleeping in two different places. Probably better for you, though. At least you won’t have to feel nervous at night now.

“So,” Kirishima, once again, interrupted your thoughts. You were standing outside your bedroom door when Kirishima decides for small talk. “What do you think about Bakugou so far?” His question came to as a surprise to you. Not because it was odd to be asking a princess such a personal question, but because that he was addressing his prince for informally. Kirishima noticed the hesitancy in your answer and gave off an awkward laugh.

“The prince and I are like brothers. We grew up and trained together, so I get a little too comfortable at times when addressing his highness. I apologize if it caught you off guard,” he apologized. You waved your hands in front of you, shaking your head.

“Oh, do not apologize. I didn’t realize how close you were to the prince,” you said nervously. You tried to make it subtle that you were a bit uncomfortable with this role that you were suddenly meant to take up. But Kirishima saw right through you, noticing every small change you made. The way you moved, the way you talked, the way your hands fidgeted, the way your eyes were always on something other than the person in front of you. He took in all these behaviors with his sharp eyes.

“I assume that you aren’t too fond of his highness,” he came to conclusion. His comment made you panic more than before.

“Ah, it’s not that! I guess I was expecting… someone different? He’s definitely scary in person, but he’s not as some people describe. He doesn’t have sharp teeth or killer eyes. I mean, his eyes are intimidating but I don’t think he looked like he wanted to kill me. But I guess the description of his scars were accurate. But always very manly at the same time!” you rambled on. You couldn’t have the Prince’s best friend think that you think badly of the Prince. You tried to be truthful but not fully truthful at the same time. How would the princess react? Would she have lied to save herself? You mentally knocked your forehead. You weren’t ready for such a task yet. Kirishima laughed at your response. But then his eyes turned a little sad, while a small still laid on his lips.

“So, you believe in the rumors? He asked. You paused to look at him. Rumors?

“I’m not sure anymore,” you say truthfully. Did everything you hear about the Blood Prince all rumors? People made up horrible things about him and you believed it? Without a second thought. Kirishima laughed one more time and continued to open your bedroom door for you.

“I guess you’ll find out for yourself soon,” he commented. “I’ll let you freshen up and get rested. Dinner should be served soon.” He said before stepping out. Now you were all alone. Left alone to bathe in your thoughts.

It wasn’t until you turned around did your jaw drop to the floor. Despite what the rest of the Blood Prince’s palace looked like, this room was fit for a princess. A gorgeous bed, beautiful view with an unbelievable tall window and balcony, exquisite fruits and snacks for you to munch on, a mini library and desk, a wardrobe filled with dresses. It was just… wow. You wanted to have the chance to collect your thoughts. But first.

A devilish smile slowly creeped its way to your lips as your eyes diverted to the massive bed in the middle of the room. You couldn’t suppress the urge to jump right onto that bed, so that’s exactly what you did. With full speed, you ran right up to that bed and landed on your back with wide arms. The instant you landed on that bed, you sank right in. The mattress and pillows engulfed your entire body. You’ve never laid in something so fluffy and soft. This was much nicer than your bed back in the servant’s quarters. The room was so extravagant that you didn’t even know where to look. Is this what it feels like to live like a princess? You even had your own servants ready to tend to you, waiting outside.

That used to be you. Right, back to reality. This was only a dream you were meant to wake up to. You shouldn’t be feeling so happy right now. Although you knew you could never experience this again after this is all over, you wanted to enjoy as much of it as you could. But you were on a mission, given to you specifically by the princess herself. You felt luxurious, but weird. Like you were in a body that didn’t belong to you.

Then your mind started wandering back to the Blood Prince, Bakugou Katsuki. You heard so many things about this so-called, ‘Blood Prince’. So much that you thought you were well versed in his behavior. Bakugou had ruled the battlefield despite his young age. He didn’t take shit from anybody. In fact, he beheaded anybody who dare to defy him. Once, you heard that multiple women went in and out of his chambers every single night. He didn’t sound like a likeable person at all. Were the things you heard really rumors? From what you heard, the descriptions of the prince weren’t far off. They couldn’t possibly have twisted the truth to make people fear him. Right? How much of what you heard was real?

Although you were feeling guilty about having thought of him that way, you had to remind yourself of the mission that you were on: get the prince to hate you and call of the engagement so you could return home and everything will go back to normal. You weren’t here to be on good terms with the prince. Whether the rumors were true or not, all you wanted to do was go home. The easiest way to do that? Get the prince to hate you. You should do everything a princess shouldn’t. You shouldn’t be elegant. You shouldn’t have to keep your mouth shut. You shouldn’t be respectful. Well, since you didn’t know anything about being a princess anyway, you decided it couldn’t hurt to act like yourself. If it gets you into too much trouble, then you might have to change your plan. But for now, you were going to see where it takes you.

As soon as you got changed into something more appropriate, Kirishima escorted you to the dining area where dinner was being served. The moment you entered the dining area, a plethora of food was presented on this long dining table, ranging from all sorts of dishes. You’ve seen your fair share of massive presentation due to being by the princess’s side, but this was on a whole ‘nother level. This amount of food could be enough to feed a whole village.

On one side of the table, an empty chair waiting for your arrival. But what you didn’t expect to see on the other side of the table was Bakugou Katsuki, already sitting. You looked down to see that he hadn’t even touched his food yet. Was he waiting for you?

“Your highness,” you greeted him with a slight bow. He did not greet you back. Only gave you a glance, let out a low gruff and adjusted himself in his seat. Hmph, rude. All politeness was thrown out the window now as your lips turned into a frown.

“Princess?” Kirishima interrupted your thoughts. He had moved to the empty chair and pulled it out for you. You gladly excepted his kind gesture and sat yourself at the table. Kirishima moved to the side and stood guard while you and Bakugou had your meal.

“Nice of you to show up,” Bakugou said. His comment caught you off guard.

“Pardon my tardiness. I couldn’t figure out which gown to wear for this evening as you gave me so many options to choose from. But I didn’t expect that to stop the great Blood Prince from starting his meal,” you gave a snarky remark back. You looked Bakugou straight in the eyes and gave him a smile, one that was challenging to Bakugou. Bakugou didn’t hesitate to meet your eyes, his crimson stare boar into yours as he drank from his cup. The look he gave you ran chills down your spine. Although a tint of amusement flickered in his eyes, the intimidation made you oversee that small detail. His eye contact was so strong that you couldn’t look away. But why wasn’t he looking away either? For a few moments, you two held eye contact with each other, both of you seemingly unable to look away. You were putting on a front, but how much longer could you do that. Until it was too much, you cleared your throat and looked down, picking up your utensils to start eating.

Bakugou smirked at your reaction, almost impressed that you could hold his stare for that long, and also began eating. Not until he glanced back up to get another look at you.

Kirishima saw that. He looked back and forth between you and his best friend during your stare down. It took everything in him to not chuckle, so he bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from showing any reaction. But he saw the second take Bakugou shot at you. Oh? Was something going on already?

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts and if it’s getting interesting! Hopefully I tagged everybody and if not, please let me know! Also let me know if you want to be tagged and I’ll gladly add you!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon​ @melasnchz-things​ @animexholic​ @bkgwrites​ @sam-i-am-1025​ @apexqueenie​

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of blood and injury, cursing, alcohol consumption Summary: You and Mando choose Sorgan as your place to lay low, only to get wrangled into a risky job. Notes: I didn’t post last week, so have two chapters! Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme​​ @beskarhearts​​ @dincrypt​​ @honey-hi​​ @just-me-and-my-obsessions00​​ @red-leaders​​ @zoemariefit​​

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

The next few days passed in a haze of planning and training. You helped instruct the villagers in hand-to-hand combat alongside Cara and firearms training with Mando. When Cara asked why you happened to be proficient in both skills, you told her that working with the clientele you did occasionally necessitated self-defense. That was true enough.

After a day or two, however, you decided it was best to leave the blaster training up to Mando. You focused on assisting Cara, who was good company, and joined the crew that was constructing barricades and digging trenches.  

It was irritating to feel a tinge of jealousy at the comfortable way Mando interacted with Omera so soon after meeting her. She was beautiful and clever, welcoming and kind. You understood her appeal. Still, despite yourself, you were annoyed by their borderline flirtatious interactions.

You could practically feel Mando’s heart drop when Omera was the only villager to raise her hand when he asked the group who knew how to shoot. He looked like he might actually be in physical pain as he watched her hit the pan she was aiming for over and over in quick succession during target practice. He was visibly tense, holding his shoulders back uncomfortably far as he regarded her, deeply impressed.

You were honestly even a little nettled by easy relationship that had developed organically between Cara and Mando. Their connection was strictly platonic, but they acted like they’d been friends for years. 

Why is it so different with me?

Both of these developments were irritating, but what really drove you to avoid Mando was your frustration at yourself. This wasn’t the plan. You weren’t supposed to get invested or attached—both because you’d part ways soon enough and because you were witnessing Mando get attached to someone else.

It was easy enough to limit your interactions with him during the day. You spent what little spare time you had playing with the kid and the gaggle of children that followed him around to squeal at every adorable flap of his ears, or wandering through the forest. You always stayed closed to village, but it was relief to get some time alone. As nice as it was to have regular company—something you’d wanted for so long—you also missed some aspects of your solitary existence. It was simple and comfortable. It was what you knew best.

***

At night, you made sure to stay away from the barn as long as possible so Mando could have plenty of time to eat and do whatever else he did with his helmet off.

Each night, you would approach the barn after dark had fallen, making sure to stomp loudly up the steps. You’d stand off to the side of the doorway and knock, waiting to hear the telltale sound of beskar dragging across the wooden windowsill and the subsequent hiss as he fit the helmet back over his head.

The fourth night, however, when Mando arrived back at the barn in the early evening, he stopped at the doorway.

You had stacked every box, crate, and stray item in a line down the center of the back half of the room to make a barrier that was as high as your shoulder. You’d hung a sheet across both sides, so you each had an enclosed space.

“I know it doesn’t fix it, but I thought it might make you feel better? I promise not to get up with out warning you... I know you’ll probably keep your helmet on anyways, but I have to imagine sleeping in it is killing your neck, and since you won’t let me figure out somewhere else to sleep, this is the best I could come up with,” you stopped rambling, punctuating the end of your sentence with a decisive nod.

“Thank you,” he said.

You were relieved—and slightly surprised—when later that night, after darkness had fallen and you were tucked under your blankets, hovering on the edges of sleep, you heard a hiss and a thunk, which you registered as him removing his helmet and setting it on the floor. It was slightly harder to fall sleep knowing that Mando was only feet away from you, helmetless.

The warmth that blossomed in your chest at this display of trust stayed with you well into the next day.

***

The next night, after a long day of training, you were back in the barn, getting cleaned up before bed. Mando, having just entered, was untying the knot in his cape. The kid was standing in his crib, tiny hands gripping the bars, watching you and Mando with eager curiosity.

Seated on a crate, you pulled the necklace that was tucked under your shirt over your head, preparing to wash the sweat and grime of the day off you. You leaned over to stow it in a tiny zip pocket on the outside of your bag, when you felt a tug on the thin gold chain. You looked down at your hand, thinking the child must have tottered over when you weren’t looking. But, looking up, you saw that he wasn’t near you. He was still standing in his crib, and he whined at you, his tiny hand outstretched. He seemed concerned, his eyes squinted and forehead wrinkled in concentration.

You looked from the necklace in your hand to the kid and back.

“What the—?”

You glanced at Mando. He was watching you, the cape he was folding frozen in his hands. He dropped the cape and strode over to the crib to grab the child, hugging him tight to his chest. He turned to leave the barn, walking to the doorway. The child struggled against him, until his big ears and eyes appeared over Mando’s shoulder, a tiny hand stretched toward you again.

Curious, you opened your hand and straightened your arm, offering the necklace on your palm.

The baby’s face wrinkled in concentration once again. Mando was almost out the door when the necklace jerked out of your hand and flew across the room. The chain hooked on one of the kid’s tiny fingers. He grasped it, and the purple crystal at the end of it clinked distinctively when it collided with Mando’s pauldron. Mando stopped dead in his tracks.

Your jaw dropped. Mando whirled around, adjusting his grip on the child so he could see the necklace clutched in his tiny hand, the pendant swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The baby was cooing and wiggling his ears in triumph. His other hand grabbed at the crystal.

Mando’s entire demeanor shifted in the space of a second. He stopped breathing and crossed the space between you in a few long strides, raising a hand to point a threatening finger at your chest.

“You can’t tell anyone.” The anger in his voice failed to conceal the fear underneath it, even through the modulator.

“I won’t.” You were absolutely bewildered by this development, but you’d never do anything that would endanger the child.

Mando stayed frozen like that, his hand outstretched. In his arms, the child tittered and cooed, examining the object clasped in his tiny hands.

“Mando, I promise. I won’t.”

He nodded, dropping his accusing hand, and looked down to gently extricate the necklace from the three-fingered hand it was wrapped around. You could see the reflection of the baby’s huge, imploring brown eyes in Mando’s visor. The baby let out a frustrated huff in protest and began to whine in earnest when Mando successfully disentangled the necklace.

He thrust it back into your hand, turned on his heel, and left.

The Mandalorian has a baby... Jedi? And he does not want to talk about it.

***

After two weeks of preparation, the day finally arrived. Tension was high among the villagers as the final arrangements were made. The plan was reviewed, and finally, the sun began to set. You and Mando headed back to the barn to gear up.

It only took a few minutes for Mando to grab all he needed. Slinging his rifle across his back, he walked toward the doorway and paused. He turned around to face you.

“We’re headed out. You’ll make sure the kid is safe with the others?” he asked.

“Of course. Be careful out there.”

“You too.” He gave you a curt nod and swept out the door.

You gathered what you needed, delivered the child to the building that was designated for children and a couple caretakers, and took your place with the villagers behind one of the barricades. You shared words of reassurance with those around you.

The night passed in a blur of adrenaline. You had been put in charge of one of two groups of the villagers who were capable of fighting. Omera led the other. Mando and Cara attacked the raider’s camp, drawing them out of the forest. The Klatooinians rushed the village, purposefully funneled to the open space between your group and Omera’s by the barricades, and the AT-ST stuttered into view shortly after.

The villagers were roughly trained soldiers, but in the end, it was enough to scare off the Klatooinians—especially once Mando and Cara managed to lure the reluctant walker into the trap, incapacitating their largest weapon.

Halfway through the fight, your blaster jammed, so you traded it for one you took off a dead Klatooinian. It was large and awkward in your hands, but it did the job well enough.

When the walker fell and the remaining Klatooinians turned tail, the villagers began to cheer, letting their guard down immediately. Mando and Cara disappeared into the woods after the retreating raiders to clear out any stragglers.

You scanned the dark scene from where you stood behind the krill ponds to ensure that every Klatooinian had left. When you turned back toward the village, you noticed an injured raider, who had been lying on the ground, lurched to his feet. He started towards Omera, who was kneeling beside an injured villager, tending their wounds, with her back to him. As he stood, he pulled a long knife from is belt.

“Omera!” you yelled. She looked around at the sound of her name and exclaimed when she saw the man charging her, only a few feet away. Her hands scrabbled along the ground around her, trying to locate her blaster. The other villagers in the vicinity, caught off guard, froze and watched in horror.

You fumbled with the safety on the unfamiliar blaster in your hands, feeling slow and awkward. Fuck.

You sprinted forward to position yourself between Omera and the Klatooinian, catching him off guard and meeting his face with the butt of the heavy blaster. He growled in pain, closing his eyes for a moment as he reeled back, slashing the air blindly with his blade. You took the chance to kick him in the stomach, putting all your weight behind it. He doubled over, but managed to throw out his arm as he stumbled backwards, just as you were drawing your leg back. You cried out in pain as his blade bit through the meat of your calf.

Omera, who had recovered behind you, shot the raider before he hit the ground.

You staggered back, breathing hard, and sat on the ground abruptly, gritting your teeth at the sharp pain. He’d cut deep into your muscle, leaving a laceration as long as your hand. Bacta would fix you well enough, but it hurt like a bitch. It was bleeding freely, thick droplets of blood running down your shin into your boot. Without thinking, you ripped your shirt off over your head, leaving you in just your breast band, and wrapped it tight around your calf to staunch the bleeding. Several villagers rushed over to help you, but you waved them off, reassuring them that you had it under control.

Omera knelt beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thank you for having my back,” she said genuinely.

You smiled at her and covered her hand with yours: “Anytime. Thanks for having mine.”

You heard the familiar clank of Mando’s armor behind you. He must have finished flushing out the nearby trees. He crouched next to you.

“What happened?”

“Knife wound. Not bad. I’ll be fine.”

Blood was rapidly soaking through the thick fabric of your shirt. Okay, I might need stitches.

“You need stitches,” Mando said, verbalizing your thought.

“Yeah.”

“I can do those for you,” Omera offered. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you nodded.

She threaded a hand under your arm to help you to your feet. You started to get up.

“I got her,” said Mando, waving Omera away. She moved back.

You were too focused on the stinging pain of your leg to process what he meant. Mando got to his knees and leaned forward to slip an arm under the crook of your knees and one around your back. You flinched at the feeling of the cold beskar on your side.

“Mando, I can walk,” you protested, surprised, as he lifted you. You instinctively wrapped an arm behind his neck, while your other hand held tight to the shirt around your calf.

“You’re losing too much blood.”

His chest plate was cold against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were surprised when he turned in the direction of the barn where the two of you slept, instead of toward the structure that had been designated for medical care. On the way there, he poked his head into the room where the kids were hidden. The child chirped happily up at the two of you from where he was seated in Winta’s lap. Satisfied, Mando turned to carry you the rest of the way to the barn.

If you weren’t exhausted and in pain, you’d probably be more acutely aware of how exposed you were in just your breast band in his arms. You would probably be enjoying the easy way he was carrying you.

He stepped onto the porch in one stride and strode inside, setting you down gently on your blankets. You lay back immediately, bending your injured leg to keep the pressure steady with a tight grip on your shirt. You closed your eyes, trying to not focus on the pain. You heard Mando rummaging around.

“My med pack is in my backpack,” you said. “Will you hand it to me?”

But when you opened your eyes, you saw that he already had his own med pack open on the floor next to you.

“I have anesthetic bacta spray. I’ll use that first so you don’t feel the stitches.” He held up an aerosol can to show you.

Knowing how expensive that was, you protested: “No, no, save that for something more serious. I’ll be okay. I’ve had stitches before.”

“It’ll be easier for me if I know I’m not hurting you,” he insisted, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

“I can handle it.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Yes, I can. I’ve done it before.”

“Will you just let me do it?” he asked, exasperated.

“Are you okay though? Don’t you have any injuries?”

“No. Beskar,” he replied, tapping his chest plate. “Just let me do it,” he pressed with an imploring head tilt.

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Thank you.”

He moved down to your calf, taking the shirt gently from your hands. When his fingers brushed yours, you registered that it wasn’t a glove you felt—his hand was bare.

You closed your eyes again, trying not to fixate on the feeling of his bare skin on yours. Plus, you still weren’t sure if seeing his bare skin would somehow violate his Creed.

He peeled back the fabric slowly. You winced.

“The worst of the bleeding has stopped,” he said, using the shirt to wipe away the drying blood on your skin. “I’m applying the spray.”

You nodded vaguely, then hissed through your teeth at the sting of cold spray on your leg, but the effects were immediate—the pain disappeared instantly, completely.

“Ah, fuck, I forgot how good that stuff is. I got so used to getting patched up without it.”

He let out a grunt of agreement. “Stay still.”

“I will.”

You glanced down at Mando, appreciating how out of place he looked, his large metal form crouched over your leg, administering precise medical care with careful movements.

Feeling like you were in good hands, with the pain gone, you let the fatigue overtake you. Your eyes drifted closed.

Sometime later—you weren’t sure how long in your hazy state—you felt Mando move beside you. You opened your eyes, and he was on his knees by your shoulder, his gloveless hand hovering a couple inches above your arm like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to touch you. You gave him a sleepy smile, and in a sudden movement, he lowered his hand the rest of the way down to your bare shoulder.

I guess it isn’t against the Creed to reveal your skin to someone else.

“I’m done.”

“Thank you,” you replied, reaching up to pat the hand on your shoulder. You kept the gesture brief, concerned that your touch might prompt him to pull his hand away.

He didn’t.

His hands were softer than you were expecting.

“Rest,” he instructed. “I put water next to you.”

He stood to leave, the weight of his warm hand retreating with him.

You tried not to overthink how tender Mando had been with you. You didn’t want to process what it meant or the fact that it sort of left you swooning. Though, maybe that was the blood loss.

As you drifted to sleep, you thought about what the future might hold. It was a relief that the fight was over and the village was safe, but it also meant your job here was done and it would soon be time to leave Sorgan. You weren’t sure what this meant for your partnership—if you could really even call it a partnership—with Mando. Would you go your separate ways now?

It wasn’t until the next morning—when you were examining the precise row of stiches on your calf—that you realized, with great dismay, you’d exposed the scar on your chest to Mando, Omera, and a handful of other villagers.

***

The following evening was a celebration. The entire village stayed up late into the night eating, talking, and drinking in the long hall.

After dinner, you were five shots into a drinking game with Cara when Mando rejoined the two of you. You were drinking a clear liquor, something stronger than spotchka that you didn’t know the name of.

Mando sat down stiffly across from you, watching the two of you howl with laughter over a joke he’d missed.

“I was just here half an hour ago. How are you both already drunk?”

“We’re efficient,” said Cara in a mock-serious tone.

“You want to play, Mando? I could get you a straw,” you offered.

He tilted his head, and the sassiness of the gesture made you cackle.

Cara laughed heartily, slapping her hand on her thigh: “I guess that’s his way of saying he can’t handle his booze.”

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” he asked.

“We stopped worrying about the rules awhile ago,” you admitted.

“So who’s winning?”

“Me!” you declared, reaching for the half-empty bottle once again.

“I don’t know about that,” said Cara, skeptically, snatching the bottle and unsteadily pouring two more shots. She handed one to you.

“Maybe you guys have had enough,” Mando said, reaching out to take the glasses from Cara.

“Maybe you’re not the boss of us,” you sassed, knocking his hand out of the way and tipping the proffered shot down your throat. You were drunk enough that it didn’t burn anymore.

“We’re celebrating, Mando!” Cara proclaimed before she downed hers too, and you both laughed at the long-suffering sigh that Mando let out.

A woman that Cara had been spending most of her free time with sauntered over to your table and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Cara smirked.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to,” she said, standing and taking the woman’s hand.

“Have fun,” you said, winking.

“You too,” she shot back.

You turned to Mando: “Welp, looks like you’re my new drinking buddy.”

He sat silent, helmet following Cara and the other woman as they left the hall.

“Oookay, then. I’m going to bed.” You slapped your palms onto the table and pushed yourself up. 

Mando followed you as you stepped out into the cool night.

“Where’s the kid?” you asked.

“Asleep already.”

“That’s good. Babies need sleep.”

“He’s fifty.”

You turned to Mando, spluttering, “Fifty?!”

“Different species age differently,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, no shit... Still, that’s crazy. You have a fifty-year-old toddler. Your baby is older than you...I mean, I assume so. I don’t know how old you are. If I had to guess, I would say... Is that rude? I probably shouldn’t guess...”

Not paying attention, you started wandering in the wrong direction, and Mando laid a guiding hand on your lower back.

“Come on,” he sighed, directing you toward the barn.

You pushed out the loudest, most dramatic sigh you could muster, and he looked down at you.

“That’s you. That’s what you sound like. You looooove sighing, you know that? It’s your favorite thing, second only to the kid. You might like it even more than the kid, actually,” you mused, making yourself chuckle.

“You’re a chatty drunk,” he observed.

“Everyone is chatty compared to you, Mando.”

He grunted.

“What are you like when you’re drunk? I want to see that. Do you even drink?” You stopped walking, and he did too, visor trained on you.

“Sometimes.”

“I bet you’re a nice drunk.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, no, I know so. Because secretly you’re a nice not drunk person so I bet you’re an extra nice drunk person.” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that your usual verbal filter was completely gone. Oh well.

“Is that right?”

“Yep, you pretend to be all scary with your sexy voice and your blasters and your bounty hunting and your fire bracelet and your shiny outfit, but really you are soft, and you love babies and helping people and carrying injured friends.”

“My sexy voice?” He titled his head suggestively.

“Really? That’s what you took from that?” You hiccupped. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what your voice sounds like. This is the way.” You hit him with your best Mando impression.

He chuckled.

Your mouth fell open, and you pointed up at him, incredulous. “You laughed.”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t do it too much or I might start to think that you’re a real human being under all that.” You gestured at his beskar.

“We wouldn’t want that,” he said, and you both started walking toward the barn again.

“Look at you, making jokes.” You tripped slightly, and Mando steadied you.

“My boot is untied,” you announced, flopping onto the ground unceremoniously to tie it.

Mando set his hands on his hips and leaned down to watch you.

You held a palm up to him. “Before you do it, I’ll sigh for you,” you said, letting out another exaggerated exhale.

He crouched down in front of you and batted your hand away, pulling your laces tight to knot them.

“You’re trying my shoe,” you said stupidly.

“Yeah, because you’re taking too long.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know. I am perfectly capable of getting back by myself. You can go to bed.” You waved dismissively in the direction of the barn.

“I’m not going to leave you out here drunk and alone.”

“See.” You tapped a finger against his chest plate. “Soft.”

“I guess so.”

“Andddd, I think you still feel the need to babysit me because you don’t trust me.”

He looked up at you. “That’s not true.”

“Convincing.”

He shook his head and stood up. You reached out both hands, and he gripped them, pulling you to your feet.

“How’s your leg?” he asked, replacing his hand on your back.

“Oh, it’s good. You make very tiny, very neat stitches. I was impressed. I assume you’ve had lots of practice.”

He hummed.

You hiccupped again.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” you scowled up at him. “I’m not even that drunk.”

He pushed your shoulder lightly, and you stumbled.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Proved my point though.”

Putting all your weight behind it, you shoved his arm as hard as you could in retaliation. He didn’t falter. Taking a different tack, you snaked a hand under his arm and tickled his unarmored side. He leaped away from you.

“WHY!?” he grunted.

“You’re ticklish!” you announced triumphantly.

“No. I’m not.” But he was careful to stay more than an arm’s distance away from you.

“Yes, you are! But don’t worry, I will take your secret to my grave,” you promised solemnly, placing a hand over your heart. “It wouldn’t be good for business if everyone knew the greatest bounty hunter in the parsec could be bested via tickling.” Your voice cracked, and you dissolved into giggles.

Mando halted and turned to you, putting his hands on his hips again.

“Oh, Mando, lighten up. I’m just teasing you.”

In two decisive steps, Mando closed the distance between you, crowding you backward. You looked up at him, surprised, unable to get a read on him. “I didn’t mean—.”

In one swift movement, he hauled you over his shoulder.

“Hey!!”

He chuckled and tightened his hold around the back of your thighs. You surrendered quickly, going limp. His pauldron dug uncomfortably in your stomach, but otherwise, it wasn’t so bad.

“That is the second time you’ve laughed in the last five minutes. Are you feeling okay? Are you sure you didn’t sustain some sort of head injury yesterday?” you asked.

“Pretty sure, but I’m starting to think you might have.”

“Hilarious. You know, I could still tickle you like this,” you threatened, trailing a hand down his side.

“Not if you don’t want me to drop you,” he warned, jolting you slightly to demonstrate.

You huffed. “You can’t just cuff me or pick me up any time I’m inconvenient. That’s not how friendship works.”

“I think it works well for us,” he said as he climbed the steps to the barn.

***

The following two weeks were a period of peaceful recovery and restoration. You, Mando, and Cara helped the village return their home to normal—disposing of the dead raiders, breaking down the AT-ST, taking down the barricades, filling in the trenches. Every day, as there was less and less to do, you wondered when Mando would broach the topic of leaving. You had a feeling he, like you, was also putting it off for as long as possible. You were enjoying the easy routine you’d fallen into, spending time with the kid, Mando, Cara, and Omera; you’d happened into a community and were loath to leave it.

You were seated on the porch of the barn, watching the clouds roll slowly across the sky, when you noticed Mando making his way over.

As he walked toward you, you admired (not for the first time) the way the soft, green light of Sorgan danced across the surface of his beskar. You looked him up and down surreptitiously, wondering if he’d always worn such an elaborate outfit or if it had evolved over time. You knew the armor at least had been replaced. But had he always worn a cape? And like three layers of clothes? And the sash-like bandolier? You weren’t familiar enough with Mandalorian culture to know if they strapped all of that on as kids or if they donned the armor at a certain age...or how any of it worked.

Your eyes paused at his middle. Weren’t utility belts usually worn lower, on the hips? Not cinched closer to the trimmest part of the waist? It did seem to secure the softer part of his armor that covered his stomach, so maybe it had to be positioned there. The idea that Mando had thought about his silhouette when donning his armor was absurd... but something told you that it was not impossible. Honestly, you hoped the belt was just as much for fashion as it was for function because that was too funny. The man wears a cape... it is definitely possible that more than one part of his outfit is both aesthetic and practical.

You definitely weren’t complaining. You enjoyed the view.

You wondered if he fully understood the nature of his effect on people. He was acutely aware of how intimidating he could be; he wielded that advantage liberally and expertly, but you were unsure if he was aware of his appeal. It wasn’t just you who was drawn to him in that way—Omera, for one, was immediately taken with him. And you saw how others in the cantina that first day, or in the Sorgan public house, or even here in the village trailed their eyes down his body when he wasn’t looking.

Your face burned slightly at the memory of telling him he had a sexy voice. You were grateful you hadn’t admitted anything more embarrassing, and that he hadn’t brought it up again. To your relief, that night of joking with him had shifted things slightly—he’d been a little more relaxed around you since.

Mando walked up the steps and leaned on the wall of the barn, joining you on the porch. He glanced down at you.

“How was your patrol?” you asked.

“Good, no sign of any raiders.”

You nodded and let silence hang between you for a long moment.

“That fight was too much action for a backwater town like this though—word travels fast and it’s been a couple weeks. We should cycle the charts and move on.”

Your eyes found the child, who was seated amidst a group of children in the middle of the village. He looked so happy, giggling and playing outside in the sun. Krill flopped on the ground around him.

“I know you’re right, but the idea of taking him away from this place is... hard to think about. He’s so happy here.” You nodded your head toward the baby.

Mando heaved a sigh. He stared forward as he said, “I’m leaving him here. Traveling with me—that’s no life for a kid. I did my job, he’s safe—”

You were shocked.

“Your job, Mando? Your job was to turn in an innocent child for a bounty, and you knew that was wrong, so you didn’t. After that, he became your responsibility, not just a job.” The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

You looked away from him, suddenly cold. He said nothing.

“I don’t understand you. You flip flop between being heartless and being caring. How do you go from saving him to leaving him in some random village? He’s attached to you. Please, explain it to me because I don’t understand.” You made no effort to hide the venom that was seeping into your voice, as every frustration you’d felt toward Mando over the last couple weeks bubbled to the surface at once.

You looked up at him. His helmet was trained on your face.

“He’ll get over it. We all do.”

You glared up at him.

“Why don’t you stay here with him? You could settle down with Omera. You know she wants you to stay.”

“She asked me to stay, but I don’t belong here.”

“You could if you wanted to. Don’t pretend like you don’t have a choice.”

You stood and walked away, leaving him on the porch. You couldn’t stand to look at his infuriatingly blank mask for one more second.

You stomped all the way to the forest’s edge and passed under the cover of the trees. You walked until you reached a clearing surrounded by chest-high berry bushes and began to pace back and forth.

What is he thinking?

How could he do that to the child?

How could he just leave him like that?

You knew it didn’t make sense that you would have a say in what happened to the kid, but you couldn’t help the fact that you’d grown attached to them both over the past several weeks. You wanted Mando to be the man you suspected he was—soft and kind-hearted. You didn’t want him to confirm that the moments of selflessness had been outliers, and he was really the ruthless bounty hunter that he looked like on the outside.

But...he was right that his life was not the best life for a child. You thought about your own lonely, unsettled, nomadic existence—not unlike Mando’s. Except, his life also included regular violence in a way that yours hadn’t in a long time. His life would be even worse for a child than yours.

And it made sense that he wasn’t willing to abandon his entire way of life, everything he knew to stay on Sorgan. That was a lot of ask of anyone. He didn’t ask for this.

You’d come out here to calm down but had only made yourself more irritated now that you’d come to the annoying conclusion that Mando was probably right. You huffed.

The threatening crunch of twigs off to your left brought you back to the present moment. You crouched amidst the bramble of berry bushes.

You watched through the tangle of branches as a figure made their way carefully through the forest. They were carrying a long rifle, their face concealed in a mask.

A bounty hunter. A tracking fob blinked in their hand.

Who is their target? The kid? Me? No, it can’t be me. The fob isn’t beeping fast enough. Mando? Cara? Probably the kid. The thought made your heart squeeze.

You stood silently to follow, keeping a safe distance behind them.

The hunter stopped at the edge of the forest, where the view of the village was clear, and set up the sniper rifle on a boulder. You waited to see where the sight was trained before making your move.

Sure enough, the scope was aimed at the baby, who was sitting on the ground beside a krill pond with Winta. Omera was standing in the water, submerging a basket, beside them.

You rushed forward, raising your blaster to the back of the hunter’s head, and pulled the trigger. Birds screeched and took off into the sky in response to the sound.

You smashed the tracker fob under the heel of your boot before rushing back to the village, knowing the ringing shot would have incited panic.

As you sprinted back to the village center, you spotted Mando. He was standing close to Omera, one hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder. The child was held tight in his other arm. Winta was hugged against her mother’s stomach. They looked like a family, the way they were huddled together.

When Mando saw you, he dropped his hand from Omera’s shoulder.

“What happened?” He looked you up and down, inspecting you for any signs of injury.

“There was a hunter in the woods. I took them out. They had a fob for the kid, Mando. They know he’s here,” you panted.

Neither of you spoke, sharing a moment of mutual understanding. You reached over to lightly stroke the kid’s ear. He cooed up at you.

“What does this mean?” asked Omera.

“It means that he isn’t safe here,” responded Mando. The pain in his voice was clear, even through the modulator.

Omera reached out for Mando’s hand, and he took hers for a moment, squeezing it gently before letting it drop.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He nodded stiffly. “Me too.”

You and Mando both turned to head to the barn at the same time. As you walked beside him, you looked over to find his helmet trained on you.

“I—uh, I owe you an apology. This would be a great place for any child to grow up—safe, loving. I get why you wanted to leave him here. I’m sorry that he won’t be able to stay now.”

Mando reached his hand out, as if to touch your arm, then thought better of it and let it fall to his side.

“You know, I actually did turn him in for the reward,” he admitted. “That’s how I got enough beskar for the new armor.” He gestured at his chest plate, hanging his head slightly, ashamed.

You looked at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“I regretted it right away and went back for him. That’s when I ran into you. Or, I guess, you ran into me. ” He let out a small huff of a laugh.

You grimaced, remembering the pain of slamming into his back.

“I understand why you were mad,” he continued. “But, I didn’t want to leave him here. I’m still trying to work out what’s best for him, but I know it’s not staying with me forever.” The thread of grief in his voice was pronounced.

You nodded in understanding, wishing you could somehow help him carry this profound responsibility. You weren’t sure how to express that, or if he wanted to hear it, or if it was your place to say it, so you settled on something else: “He’s easy to get attached to.”

Mando scoffed, “You’re telling me.”

You smiled at him, and you couldn’t be sure, of course, but you felt like he was smiling back at you.

***

You said your goodbyes and readied yourselves for departure. While you hugged the kids and packed your things, you thought about your next move.

A stubborn, cold part of you wanted to tell Mando to drop you off at the closest planet with a major port. You didn’t like that after just a few weeks, you were getting emotionally attached to the pair. It would be easier, safer, less complicated to return to your solitary existence. Plus, your continued presence added to the risk they already faced. That wasn’t fair to either of them.

The quieter, more truthful part of you wanted to stay with him and the child. It was a relief to not be alone all the time, but this was supposed to be a loose, short-lived alliance, not something that made your heart squeeze slightly when you thought about eventually going your separate ways.

You told yourself you’d wait until he brought it up, see what he wanted, and go from there.

You, Mando, and Cara stood at the speeder, ready to leave. Everyone in the village was there to see you off. After a few final goodbyes, Mando and Cara jumped into the speeder. You handed the baby to Mando.

You were about to grab the edge of the speeder to haul yourself up when he reached down to offer you a gloved hand. You accepted. The gesture didn’t surprise you—he was generally polite by nature. What did surprise you was the steadying hand that moved to your waist as you stepped carefully over crates and supplies to find a seat. He squeezed your side gently before letting you go.

***

You had prepared yourself for a conversation that never came.

As you were leaving the atmosphere of Sorgan in the Razor Crest, Mando turned to you to ask, “What are you thinking for our next move?”

He flicked some switches and pressed a few buttons on the console, and a holo-map of the area flickered into view in front of him. A constellation of planets hovered before your eyes.  

***

Chapter 5

[jamespotterthefirst]

At Last (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.5K Warning: N/A Premise: It’s the day after gala and they’re not hiding anymore.

A/N: Just MC and Ethan being disgustingly cute publicly. Told through three different POVs

I.

Rosa quickened her steps as she trekked through the parking lot, her numb fingers tugging her coat closer around her shoulders. She was in a rush to get inside the hospital, partly because of the piercing cold of the bleak morning but also because of the fresh wave of gossip that awaited her. Now more than ever, she kicked herself for skipping out on the gala, having thought of herself as just a tired, overworked nurse who was not important enough to bring in any donations.

By the way her phone blew up throughout the night with notifications, she had missed the revelation of the century. Apparently, irritable and reserved Dr. Ramsey had kissed charming and vivacious Dr. Allende for everyone to see.

And if the many accounts were to be believed, it had been one hell of a kiss.

Said accounts varied wildly depending on who recounted them. Roxanne, for example, claimed they fully made out in the middle of the dance floor while the residents cheered them on. Marlene, on the other hand, swore Dr. Ramsey professed his feelings for the unsuspecting young doctor in a grand gesture before he dipped her back and kissed her as the music swelled around them.

Rosa didn't have an opportunity to decide which version she believed because just then, she heard the unmistakable baritone voice of Dr. Ramsey from a few parked cars away.

“The gossip in there is going to be insufferable.”

Rosa halted, realizing a second later that he stood several feet away, easily towering over the parked cars. Once convinced she was well out of sight, she craned her neck to take a better look. Both subjects of the new Edenbrook gossip stood by Dr. Ramsey’s luxury car, the space between them so minimal that it left no doubt that they were indeed together. If their proximity was not enough to convince anyone of this fact, the way Dr. Ramsey caressed every inch of her face with his gaze would be more than enough proof.

“So it'll be just like any other day,” Dr. Allende laughed, circling her arms around his neck and closing the small space between them. “Might I remind you that you're the one who decided to kiss me in front of the whole hospital?”

To Rosa's utter shock, Dr. Ramsey grinned down at his companion. The sight was so rare from the usually reticent doctor that Rosa mindlessly leaned forward to take a better look.

“Is that a complaint, Allende?”

“Hardly.”

Their words were playful but quiet, as though uttered from under a hazy spell. Effortlessly, Dr. Allende raised herself on tiptoes to kiss him, not that she needed to because Dr. Ramsey leaned down at once to meet her. It was a brief kiss that still managed to be so much more, their small sighs getting lost in the other's lips.

When they broke apart, Dr. Ramsey looked troubled, his mouth slanting thoughtfully.

“What is it?”

“I don't regret what I did,” he began after a short pause. “But it doesn't change the fact that I acted impulsively last night and I didn't stop to think how it might affect you.” His fingers gently brushed away a wayward strand of hair away from her face. “Unfortunately, in these situations, it is always the woman who endures the most criticism. If anyone even dares—”

An affectionate smile had been growing on Dr. Allende's lips until it culminated in another quick kiss.

“I don't care,” she told him solemnly.

Dr. Ramsey opened his mouth to argue but the poor man looked to be having a difficult time with that, looking thoroughly distracted by the pretty, radiant smile before him.

“Ethan, I'm serious. Having you completely, like this—it's all I ever wanted. Besides, I'm here to do a job that I do damn well. If anyone has a problem with me, they can say it straight to my face.”

Dr. Ramsey regarded her with devoted admiration. Even Rosa felt a surge of approval toward the fierce doctor.

“That's so goddamn attractive.”

Dr. Allende let out a small, startled laugh. “Me being feisty?”

He nodded, already hovering close to her lips. “You did it to me often, especially last year. It was entirely too… distracting.”

The tortured way he confessed that left no doubt that this was far more than a fling or superficial office gossip. Dr. Allende realized that too because her smile was adoring, eyes alight with unmistakable happiness.

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What I should've done every damn time.”

And he leaned down to kiss her.

---------

II.

Ines was certain that Zaid wasn't fully listening, his every effort invested in sending a glare at a gaggle of gossiping interns.

“You would think they had jobs to do,” he grumbled once they passed them in the hall. “If they spent as much time studying their cases as they do discussing senseless gossip, then they'd be half decent at their jobs.”

As usual, Ines offered him a fond smile, rolling her eyes in amusement. “You can't blame them, Z. Even you have to admit Dr. Ramsey and Lilac dating is a huge deal.”

Zaid let out an unconvincing scoff.

Restraining a laugh, Ines allowed a small silence to follow. Just as she knew he would, he dropped the stern facade and said, “I wonder if it's serious.”

“I hope so,” she confessed in a giddy whisper. Something about last night's events made Ines feel insurmountably happy for both doctors. “They make an adorable couple.”

Ines found confirmation to both of her statements hours later as she strolled into the packed coffeehouse. The plan had been to get a caramel latte for herself and a black coffee for Zaid during her afternoon break. But she'd be lucky to make it through the line before her next meeting.

In the end, she decided to stay. The prospect of her latte with a mountain of whipped cream was worth the line. She was trying to convince herself that the rare, grateful smile she would receive from Zaid in exchange for his coffee had nothing to do with it when she heard a familiar voice.

“There's not enough coffee in the world to get me through this day.”

Dr. Ramsey and Lilac sat at a table by one of the windows. The way they huddled together gave Ines the impression that they were enjoying a small respite from the whirlwind taking root at Edenbrook, both because of their relationship and because of the lawsuit.

Lilac reached across the table to clasp his hand firmly in hers. “You have me,” she told him earnestly, her thumb sweeping small trails across his skin. “We'll get through it together.”

Dr. Ramsey looked down at their joined hands and then back up at Lilac. It was almost as if every doubt and every hardship melted at the sight of her quiet smile. With a small nod, he raised their hands to kiss hers with such adoration, Ines felt as though she was intruding by just looking.

“You're right,” he told her. “I also have the promise of dinner together to get me through.”

At that, Lilac sent him a coy smile that made a slight blush appear on his cheeks. She leaned in and whispered something against his ear, the words lost against the cacophony  of blenders, music, and conversation around them. By the time she leaned away, her smile was downright wicked while Dr. Ramsey looked stunned and pleased all at once, his face redder than before.

“Order for Ethan,” the barista called from the counter, saving him from spluttering a response.

As Dr. Ramsey approached the front to collect their drinks, his eyes fell on Ines, who couldn't help but grin sheepishly.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Delarosa,” he greeted with a nod.

“Hi Dr. Ramsey,” she returned cheerfully from her place in line. “I had to swing by to get good coffee. There are days when the cafeteria coffee just won't do.”

Dr. Ramsey grimaced in solidarity at the mention of the Edenbrook coffee. Aside from the small gesture, he didn't offer much more of a response, but he didn't move to walk away either. At the same time, both of their eyes moved to Lilac, too invested in her phone as she waited for Dr. Ramsey's return.

Something like panic flitted across Dr. Ramsey's face, before he relaxed, probably remembering he didn't have to hide anymore. With a defeated exhale, he asked, “So how bad is it?”

“Hmm?”

“The gossip. How vicious is it?” His voice sounded detached, purposely casual. Ines could tell, however, that the answer mattered more to him than he was willing to admit.

“Oh, it's not—” she started, still caught off guard.

“Because if anyone is suggesting anything untrue about Lilac or her place in my now disbanded team, I'll personally see that their job at Edenbrook is cut short, shorter than the rest of us.”

Ines couldn't help but smile broadly at that impassioned proclamation. Lilac was, without a doubt, lucky to have someone like Dr. Ramsey in her corner.

“It's okay, Dr. Ramsey,” she assured him. “That won't be necessary. Most of the staff is just shocked that you two kissed last night. So everyone's been mostly telling and retelling that story so much it's changed. The most outrageous one I've heard is a version where you took the microphone from the band and used it to dedicate Isn't She Lovely? to Lilac.”

“I don't think I'd ever—”

But he stopped himself abruptly, his eyes falling on Lilac at a distance. The small smile that tugged at his lips said everything he would never say to Ines in words: he'd do anything for Lilac.

It was most as if he was realizing that himself too because he couldn't bring himself to look away from her.

“I'm happy for you both, Dr. Ramsey,” Ines said sincerely.

Dr. Ramsey looked at Ines with an unreadable expression. She shifted on her feet, suddenly anxious she had overstepped. But Dr. Ramsey offered her a rare smile that made him look years younger.

“Thank you, Dr. Delarosa.” His eyes traveled back to Lilac. “I'm happy, too.”

---------

III.

It was no surprise that Naveen felt exhausted by the end of the day, as though every step drilled exhaustion further into his sore muscles. It was true that he was getting old but dealing with a malpractice lawsuit while desperately trying to keep a hospital afloat would wear out even the youngest and most resilient of doctors.

It seemed fitting that at the end of that thought, he found himself outside of Ethan's old office. The door, Naveen noticed, was halfway open and the voices of the office's occupants drifted out to the empty hall.

“...pointless to set up an office for only a month,” Ethan was saying.

Naveen drew closer to the door, never one to resist the prospect of a good conversation. Inside, Ethan and Lilac stood by the desk, unpacking a box of belongings and placing a few items around the otherwise bare room.

“Is this everything?” Lilac asked as she peered into the box.

“I've never been into frivolous office décor,” Ethan admitted with a shrug. “Particularly if it doesn't serve a purpose. It easily becomes clutter otherwise.”

Naveen almost chuckled at that, remembering the many times he teased and urged his protégé to have at least one personal item on his desk—anything to indicate a small semblance of his personality. In the end, Ethan agreed to a small succulent plant, refusing to add anything else.

Seeming to remember something, Ethan reached into his coat pocket and produced what looked like a small photograph.

“Is that the one they took last night at the gala?” Lilac asked, taking it from his hand to take a close look. “We look damn good.”

Ethan laughed, the sound almost foreign to Naveen.

“Most of the credit goes to you.” He finalized the words by giving her a sweet kiss on the forehead. Lilac did not seem to be satisfied with such a chaste kiss because she pulled him back down to her, their lips meeting.

Their kiss was short, breaking off into small sips that neither could stop. Foreheads pressed together, they shared a giddy string of laughter, looking much like a pair of lovestruck teenagers.

Ethan took the photo back from her. “I'll frame it and keep it at my desk.”

Lilac visibly froze at that, taking a second too long to recover with a signature taunting smile. Even from a distance, however, the old doctor could tell she was genuinely touched. Naveen, too, was pleasantly surprised. Back when he coerced Ethan into decorating his office, he had refused to add any framed photos.

“I don't have anyone I care enough about,” Ethan had begrudgingly explained back then.  

“Will I be the only framed photo in your office, Dr. Ramsey? I am honored.”

Lilac's teasing smirk disappeared when Ethan drew closer to her, his hand easily finding their place at her hips. He kissed a soft trail from her cheek up to her ear before whispering, “You'll be the first, too.”

She pulled back briefly to study his face, perhaps expecting to see traces of dishonesty. When she saw none, she placed her hands at either side of his face and pulled him into a fiery kiss. She kissed him with such desperation, that they clumsily sent the empty box flying off the desk as Ethan walked her backwards.

That was Naveen's cue.

He cleared his throat.

They sprang apart, Lilac almost falling off the desk to meet the box as Ethan heartily stepped away.

Naveen chuckled as he entered the office. “Don't bother on my account,” he assured them. “After last night's display, no one in this hospital would expect anything less.”

“Eavesdropping again, old man?”

“You make it far too easy by leaving the door ajar. For someone who dedicates his life to solving mysteries, you're not very good at being one yourself.”

Lilac laughed, the sound infecting even Ethan. He allowed a grin as he drew her close, pressing her back against his chest and wrapping his arms securely around her.

Naveen couldn't help the knowing smile that spread across his face as he watched them.

Ethan, on the other hand, made a show of rolling his eyes. “Go on, then. Say it. I know you want to gloat.”

“Ah, you know me quite well.”

Lilac looked over her shoulder at Ethan and then at Naveen. “Gloat? Gloat about what?”

“About being right when regarding you two,” Naveen explained simply. “Even as I was slowly dying last year, I could tell you had caught Ethan's eye. In all my years knowing him, I had never seen him that way.”

Lilac all but squealed. “You liked me?”

In response, Ethan groaned, well aware he was outnumbered. “I thought that was obvious.”

“It wasn't.”

Both Lilac and Naveen laughed out loud while Ethan did a poor job at looking annoyed, all traces of this weak performance disappearing when she swiveled in his arms to press a kiss on his cheek. Naveen, for his part, felt his chest swell with pride, overcome with emotion at finally seeing Ethan unconditionally happy.

---------

A/N: Babies, are we okay after that chapter? Because I’m not!

Thank you for making it this far! Thank you @aestheticartsx​ for pre-reading and helping me out!

_____

(Sorry if I forgot anyone)

tags: @openheart12 , @takeharryandgo , @trappedinfanfiction, @aestheticartsx, @aworldoffandoms, @paulfwesley, @myusualnerdyself,  @rookie-ramsey, @ohchoices, @colossalpainintheass, @enmchoices, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker, @choicesfanaf, @openheartthot, @octobereighth, @nazarihoe, @utterlyinevitable, @kites-in-our-skies, @maurine07, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @doilooklikeiknow, @snesdudes, @kingliam2019, @perriewinklenerdie, @cinnamonspongecake, @choicesstan1, @queencarb, @ethxnrxmsey, @missmiimiie, @jens-diamondchoices, @adamsdumortain, @mrsramseyy, @apphia12, @kalogh, @lucy-268, @binny1985, @queenbirbs, @honeyandsunfl0wers, @newcolonies, @lilyvalentine, @rigatonireid, @interobanginyourmom, @parkerattano, @custaroonie​, @nikki-2406​, @lilypills​, @chasingrobbie​, @nooruleman​, @angela8756​, @lonely-mxxnlight​, @ruinedbypixels​, @shadynaturehilariouscookie​, @tsrookie​, @mvalentine​, @professorkingslay​, @drakewalkerfantasy​, @casey-v​, @helloblueeyedcat​, @mysticaurathings​, @blossomanarchy​, @thegreentwin​, @togetherwearerapture​, @rookieoh​, @ramseysno1rookie​, @rookiemarsswiftie​, @natashajaniphil​, @mysticalgalaxysstuff​, @hatescapsicum​, @choices-lurker​, @kiara-36​, @junehiratas​, @danijimenezv​, @macy-ray85​, @adrex04​, @canigetanawwjunk​, @sanchita012​, @overwhelminglyaquarius​ , @scorpiochick8​, @skylarklyon​, @starrystarrytrouble​, @mercury84choices​, @drariellevalentine​, @ethanrcmsey​, @lion-ess24, @aarisa-frost​, @kaavyaethanramsey​ , @udishaman​

[monsoonblooms12]

What Ethan & Pooja AU is this? #OpenHeartAU

Selcouth (Ethan x f!MC)

Summary: Set in Book 2, Pooja gets the recognition she deserves for solving Naveen Banerji's case.

Selcouth: Unfamiliar, rare, strange and yet, marvelous🤎

A/N: Thank you so much @beastlyinstrument for the visual prompt❤ I had fun thinking up and writing this piece.

A/N 2: The flashback portions are indented

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 3.2K (I am sorry!)

Rating: General

Category: A bit angst, A bit fluff

Warnings: 1 Curse Word (again 😆)

Prompts: Late Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge July challenge day 4: celebration

There was stark silence surrounding him as he scribbled out points from the morning meeting of the Diagnostics Team along with some of his own observations from the patient charts. The days have been nothing out of the blue since his return from the Cholera-ridden district of Amazons.

The steam from the warm coffee filled the entire office with its sweet aroma. With winters in their full force, there was a mystic chill all around the city and the warmth the coffee gave was extremely welcomed.

It took him 30 minutes to the tee to complete his morning paperwork. And as he arranged the white sheets in a clean stack, a slow groan escapes him. He had been so engrossed in work, that he had completely missed the fact that he had emptied his coffee cup.

Ethan looks up from his desk to the windows giving an enchanting view of the brumal grounds. Snowflakes, basking in the distant sun's glory, shining like iridescent jewels, fell slowly, silently to meet their origin.

It's too serene of a day to waste indoors.

The thought caught him somewhat by surprise, even if it was his encephalon producing it.

He had spent long years of his life away from focusing on diminutive happenings like the weather or the warmth of his favourite Vienna on a frosty day.

To appreciate the beauty of falling of the snowflakes today, was a slightly unusual change. He couldn't help but wonder as to what would have caused it.

He didn't need to wait long for an answer. Like a response to his unuttered query, the notification bell of his phone brought him out of his reverie and displayed her name with the joy of a student who had solved a difficult problem with ease on the first try. It was nothing out of the ordinary, just an email of her completed reports.

And yet, he was unable to control the breakout of butterflies in his stomach.

The feeling was orphic, and yet irenic.

As his heels tapped on the white floors, supposedly conducting an intriguing conversation with them, a faint intermix of voices reached him and stopped him in his tracks.

"You're wearing all black." It wasn't a question, but a fact that Alexandra's voice enunciated.

"Are you surprised?" A concordant voice questioned. Even if he didn't acknowledge it, it was one of his favourite euphonies.

"No. Impressed."

"I lost a bet to Bryce, and this is what I get in return." There is a pause. "It's a nice change though."

He can feel the smile that emerges out on her face at the end and feels his lips curl up, like a magnetic connection. He was caught off guard as he stood there thinking of the sweet nothings and sweet everythings of his reminiscences with her.

"Good Morning Dr Ramsey!"

It took him all his power to straighten himself, and to put on the stoic façade before responding,

"Good Morning Dr Walton."

Alexandra didn't initiate a conversation, just like he had expected. Bidding goodbye to her companion, she strode off her way.

Now, it was just him and her, standing in the middle of nowhere, eyes locked in intense focus, tied together with a string they find themselves unable to break.

She looked striking like she always did.

In every hue, every ensemble, at every hour, she knew how to induce that unnamed feeling in his heart.

All she had to do was to look at him the way she did, and his idiotic heart would skip a beat, and an ambrosial emotion would follow.

And what does one do when emotions go out of control?

Self Preservation.

Giving her a brisk nod, he dropped his gaze, hurrying away past her, not having the courage to look at the hurt caused.

Idiotic.

That's the only word he could use to describe his actions.

He could think of a trillion excuses, travel through a hundred bends on the roads of justification, but nothing would be enough to balance out the pain he was giving her. Not even his playlist of curses that he played in his mind every day to remind himself what he truly was.

An asshole.

As soon as his steps took him to the outdoors, the crisp cold winds blew through his hair, and he cherished the moment.

The apricity hugged him, and the scene that met his eyes, the world draped with a veil of phosphorescing snow, generated a euphoria he was unfamiliar with. As a minuscule flakelet fell on his outstretched hand, he realized that no one needs to spend a billion dollars to get happiness.

It is hidden amidst mundane things, and the only thing one has to do is to keep foraging for it.

Happiness can be made, it can be found. But can it be bought?

Never.

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

It was unusually calm at Derry's in the morning hours.

Not that he was complaining, of course.

In comfortable, long sips, he lets the caffeine overtake the tiredness and the heartache coursing through his body. The glare of the screen and ping of his cellular broke the aura of comfort that had spread out through the coffee shop. He wants to shut it off and throw it in a corner away from his sight, but decides against it.

It's a text from Naveen.

Skipping is not an option for today night!

A groan escapes him, the annoyance of another meet and greet taking away all the calm. He tried to convince him, but all efforts went futile. He plays the discussion all over again to find any loophole he can to escape the torture.

Flashback:

It's after hours and the wing of the hospital where Naveen's office was situated bore a silence. The amicable old man sat in his chair, leaning back as the younger one stood, with his back at him. It was obvious they had been arguing, but it seemed more like amusement for the old mentor and annoyance for the young protégé.

"There is no need-"

"Ethan, you have been repeating the same words for fifteen minutes now." Naveen chuckles.

"I very well know that there is no need for anything, dear friend. I just want a little bit of happiness and merriment in the hard times."

"I am not stopping you from doing that, Naveen, you know that. But what is the need of the celebration being about me?"

"Because you are a reason I am alive today." The man gives a melancholy smile, vision blurred as the near-death experience of the past year come sailing in front of him.

"This celebration is about you and Dr Sharma. Without the two of you, I would not have been here."

Ethan's features are clouded by the pain of losing his mentor, who has been like a father to him, and inspiration. His frown softens, annoyance long lost, as he comes as takes a seat and places his hand on his.

"Fine. I will do this. But only for you, okay?"

Naveen's lips curl up in a grateful, happy smile as if wordlessly conveying his thanks. As Ethan stands up and proceeds to leave, he cannot stop himself from laying out his observation,

"For her too."

And Ethan knew. He knew exactly whom this was about. And as much as he wanted to deny the assumption, he couldn't help but accept the truth in it. Of course, he was doing it for Naveen. But he was doing it for her too. She deserved it so much more than him. If she hadn't been there, the seat occupied by his mentor today would have been...

Flashback ends

As his eyes skim through the crisp pages of the medical journal absent-mindedly, he thinks of her again. The permanent occupant of his daydreams, who would still manage to come back, no matter how many resets he carried out.

He thinks of her attire from the hour before, hair in a neat long braid, dressed in a meticulously embroidered Indian attire. And then of the celebration at dusk, where she will finally receive the recognition she deserves.

All the doubts regarding her promotion to the Diagnostics Team would be washed away.

He remembers what she had told him a few days after he had heard those nasty rumours,

"I have proved myself and I know what's true. I don't need to show anyone else the testament of my abilities. As long as I am fair and just, their words can do no harm to me."

His admiration for her had increased phenomenally when she spoke those words to him.

His pride, his faith had not been misplaced when he picked her for the difficult voyage named Edenbrook.

He has never felt so proud of any other intern as much as he does of her.

His heart sings to him, his choice was correct. He doesn't let it elaborate itself, because one wrong move from his side would be more than enough to ruin this unpolished gem before she even gets a chance to shine.

Yes, he did tell her that some things are worth any risk, she is worth any risk, back in Miami. The reminiscences of the day still played on the screen of his mind in sepia, they lulled him to sleep.

But the risk to harm her fragile career before it even blossoms?

It wasn't just a risk, it was like a crime for him.

One which he refused to commit.

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

As dusk falls and winter blues colour the land of snow in multichromatic hues, hiding any bit of orange from the setting sun, Pooja Sharma hums along with her favourite songs as she dresses up for the special evening.

No matter how much she wants to curl up in the folds of the soft Cashmere, she has to be in attendance. It's a strict order from her grand mentor and impossible for her to go past.

It's all black day, she reminds herself when picking the outfit. And she doesn't forget to leave a thank you note for Lekh as she finds the perfect one.

And now, as she stands, trying to complete the arduous job of creating a perfect eyeliner wing, a certain someone's reminiscences trouble her pained heart.

No matter how much she scolds it for its stupidity, trying to explain the futility of the hope of getting together, it never heeds, just continues to trouble her with the baritone of his that enchants her mind, the cologne that overpowers all her senses.

As she looks at the reflection in the speculum, she cannot help but imagine his reaction.

Will she even get a reaction?

Maybe just a nod, or a look.

No words.

She has convinced herself with it. It took some time, some stops, some pulls of an invisible harness, but she has convinced herself.

She's stopped hoping, soothing herself with whatever they shared, memories that felt like they belong to a bygone era, and a promise of treasuring them, just in case he ever decided to come back.

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

In the vespertine hours, the diamond dust made the sun devoid city look like a fairytale. Any other time, he would have just worried about the sharp chill, probably cursing the snow.

Being so observant of the places he is a regular visitor at, it was a new experience for him.

Strange, even.

It's something that will take some time to get used to.

The interiors are warm. Minimally decorated, as he had requested. Not wanting to create a fuss, he bee-lines to the corner of the room, where the only occupant was emptiness. He decided to cherish the moments of solace before the bother of the vivacious crowd began, wanting to start a colloquy.

On instinct, he looks around, not being able to comprehend the reason why his heart leaps to his throat. And then a pang of disappointment overlaps that sudden nervousness.

The absence of one person, the feeling so profound.

It's magical.

Dangerous, but still, magical.

A mute scold follows. No matter how hard he tries, strives towards that unannounced aim of reset, his stupid heart and its childishness always ruin his plans.

The call of his name makes him turn around.

Naveen stands, jolly smile fixed in place, eyes sparkling with joy and...

Gratitude.

They chat, topics ranging from Diagnostic team cases to complaints of coffee. His orbs casually drift towards the entryway, in hope of seeing his dearest.

And as the astrologers say, the stars align, the universe comes into play, and the shimmer of black in the lambent atmosphere makes his heart skip a beat. He feels a smile emerging and hastily hides it with a scowl.

If he had to, he would have sworn that he looked like a clown.

Her ambers gaze around in a lucid, tender manner, in strike contrast to his a while ago.

There is a lack of haste, of worry, of unease.

Her very presence fills the air with tranquility and without his consent, his soul basks in it. After what felt like an eternity, their gazes meet.

Melt into each other like the wax of two candles.

Become inseparable.

She smiles, it's faint.

It seems more of a formality than a wish. The momentary cheer is replaced by a somber, melancholic expression. Her orbs drift away, gaze turns away as if to hide whatever was to come from him.

And he knows.

He's the reason.

Silence is suffocating, but right now, the chaos is even more constricting to him.

Everyone chatters, mingles, smiles.

Everyone except her.

She stands too still, flashing a half-hearted smile and half-hearted gaze here and there, as she is surrounded by the rest of her friends, preventing him from getting a better look.

As conflict rises in his interior, a to go or not to debate, the gulps of scotch become more frequent, the frown gets tighter and guilt gets heavier. Before he can drown down into the never-ending cascade of crippling self-hatred, there is a call of his name.

Naveen.

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

Claps and whoots surround her, along with a cheer. She becomes the recipient of numerous bear hugs, and compliments as Naveen elaborates on her contribution to his recovery. It feels like a reel of situations played from her sweven. It took a pinch for her to realize that it wasn't.

A mic tap follows, it's Ethan's turn to speak. She freezes upon hearing her name getting repeated again. There is an uncanny depth to it, she notices. An indication that it conceals so much more than is visible. Not just pride, not just intoxicating happiness.

Gratitude, raw and pure gratitude.

And something else (or maybe not?)

Her focus all over the place, she missed a lot of the address. What stayed carved in golden words was a single sentence, unremarkably remarkable.

"It's not me, it's her. I lost all hope, but she was the one who fought till the very end, never giving up, even if she had thousands of storms to navigate through."

"There can be only one recipient of the applause today, and it's Dr Sharma."

Two contrasting emotions put her in a dilemma. Whether to let the water drops she held strongly to herself or to let the heartfelt joy induce the grin that would shine brighter than the stars the twinkle along with the forlorn moon?

Unable to decide, she let the cracks in her stoic mask deepen, let the faint upturn of lips become visible to the world. Every applaud fell short, in a haze, as the mere words spoken mere moments before played in a loop like a soft harmony.

The 360-degree turn of the evening gave her the most unexpected and the most precious memories.

The change of the blithe chilly eve to heartwarming dusk.

Rare, mysterious and yet, magnificent.

Selcouth.

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

Ethan Ramsey, for the past decade of his extremely brilliant career, has never displayed even a minuscule amount of emotions. Never. The mask of stoicism fixed so perfectly, that no power could ever induce a crack in it.

No one could.

Until one day, an intern waltzed into his life like an unforeseen plot twist and induced changes no one ever could.

The mask has cracked, even if to a small degree, letting the minuscule details of a transformation out. Sometimes it could be as evident as a smile, or a genuine compliment to an intern. In other instances, it would be just the absence of the forehead frown (which had become a permanent resident at a point).

And now, the beloved plot twist of his novel stood before him, her eyes expertly decorated with kohl. She was quieter than usual, engaging in casual conversation, but prevented going into depths of it.

Their gazes never meet, only slide past each other.

He missed looking into the amber of hers, trying to figure out her thoughts like someone engaged with a very complex puzzle that ends up in a phenomenal picture.

He missed listening to her sweet whispers, mumbles which made him smile more than he had for the past decade.

He missed her.

The universe is always planning a conspiracy to make destiny true. And it's definitely an action of its, that his hand extends towards her, wordlessly.

She gazes at it, gazes at him, thinks for a while.

And finally, slips her hand, bejeweled with that bracelet she wore in Miami. He still remembers it placed on his heart, which beat at an erratic rhythm.

Which beats at an erratic rhythm now.

Looking at the Bostonian sky, only drapes of translucent mist could be seen all around. No twinkles, even the moonbeams were struggling to reach them. The silence is comfortable, only interrupted by the sips of steaming hot coffee.

Her eyes are fixed above, in a search for the hidden celestial elements. His focus stayed on the snowflakes resting on his jacket.

He leans back, places a hand down.

There is a lack of warmth.

Soon enough, another hand joins him.

The cold is gone.

And so is his search of moonbeams.

Her touch felt like light, his own moonbeam. So soft, so warm, so dear. Something he could keep etched on his skin forever.

She was his moon.

And for her, those summery blue orbs held depths of the ocean, the faint, soft wrinkles that languid years leave behind as a mark of their passing like map lines of some unknown lands.

He was her world.

In every universe, through trials and tribulations, through pain and smiles, they were destined to find their way to each other. No one powerful enough to keep them apart.

Not even they themselves.

It was a cosmic state of comfort they found themselves in. His hand in hers, their fingers interwoven, the reflex etched in his mind with an everlasting ink.

He has never believed in soulmates, but as he as leans back, eyes closed, hair fluttering along with the icy-cold breeze, having her by his side, he couldn't bring himself to believe this was anything less than destiny.

That even after so many trials of forgetting her, he would always come back to her, searching for the serenity he only finds in her presence.

The feeling is rare, confusing, maybe terrifying.

But right now, he basks in the warmth that it provides, all worries and all woes are hidden in a wooden box, discarded away from his sight. And unbeknownst to even him, he waits for the day he can kiss her the way he wants to, no ties, no binds holding them away.

Yes, he waits for the day.

PS: If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎

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[creativeashproductions]

A Distant Dream II // Luke Patterson

Summary: In 1994 seventeen year old Luke Patterson had once again tried to ask out the girl that held his heart. With the belief he would see the younger Mercer girl the next morning he decides wait to confess his feelings. Only to have soft music bewitched the reader into an antique wardrobe with lots of history.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of pregnancy, cops, strict parents, and angst 

Words: 3.1k

A/N: I’m thinking maybe four or five more parts following this. I really fell back into a Narnia hole recently.

Part One

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Masterlist

Julie Molina didn't mean to snoop in Luke's things at all, but her elbow had bumped his backpack to the ground. A worn picture had escaped the open bag to float next to her foot. Her deft fingers picked the photo of Alex standing with a girl laughing at something out of frame. The jacket the girl wore was familiar to Julie as she had seen Luke wear it.

Her throws furrowed as she turned the picture to the back to see the writing on the back in legible black sharpie.

Y/N and Alex Mercer, Downtown Los Angeles 1993

Julie's took a guess that the girl was-

"What the hell Julie?" Luke's furious tone took the girl by surprise, but it was the rush to yank the picture from her hand. The guitarist flooded with the familiar grief that was never too far from his mind, it had been one a year to him instead of twenty-six.

The picture was cradled in the guitarist's hands as he pinned a nasty glare on his living friend as if she had kicked his puppy. Behind him stood Alex and Reggie becoming quiet at the picture in Luke's hand. The tears started to fill Alex's eyes as he vividly remembered the night when the picture had been taken.

Alex slung his arm around his sister's shoulders with the identical grin on display as Bobby and Reggie slumped over a paper. You had a feeling it was a song that Reggie had written and Bobby loved being able to give his input on the music. Something he didn't get to do with Luke. With that name in mind, you turned to the guitarist lazing around on a couch.

The band had finished a three-song set for a local club that often turned their cheek to minors walking in. It had taken a lot of manoeuvring, but you had been able to sneak inside to add the band to the list.

"Can you believe this?" Alex gleefully laughed, looking around the packed backstage room they had snagged. They had it for another five minutes, and the band ate it up as if they had already made it in the business.

"I can't believe you guys actually made this happen." You breathed before a laugh escaped your mouth at Reggie, pulling a face at you. The blinding flash bringing your attention to the boy holding the camera you had received as a gift.

"Always a great candid with you!" Luke announced shoving the camera in his backpack with a cheeky grin aimed directly at you, "We better split before security catches us."

"I thought they knew we were here!" Alex exclaimed rushing to grab his things with all bad ideas conjuring in his head. Being in the band annoyed your parents so if he ended up arrested he'd be shipped off to a behavioural boarding school.

He saw himself in a prison cell after being arrested. His mind going to the worst-case scenario instead of only being kicked out instead.

"If you knew the truth, you wouldn't have been able to sit still." Luke retorted as the sound of footsteps sounded outside the room. Luke's eyes scanning the room for any kind of solution to their problem.

 With no safe exit, the five teenagers shuffled into the small bathroom with a big window that opened. Luke was quick to push Bobby and Reggie out first. He went next stationing himself to catch you before Alex was pacing in the bathroom alone.

"C'mon man!" Luke whispered to the blonde drummer glancing between the open window and the door separating him from security.

"If our parents have to pick us up from the cops, we are dead, Luke!" Alex hissed wincing at the loud knock on the door, "They barely condone being a band let alone getting arrested. We'd be in boarding school before you could say Orpheum!"

"Then get your ass down here!" Luke retorted jumping in place as Alex debated his options, but he slipped out the window with a sigh. The group running off with the sound of security hanging out the window screaming at the teenagers. His hand encased in Y/N Mercer's own soft hand.

"That's Y/N." Alex's voice was soft to the Puerto Rican's ears with his eyes a more delicate blue giving Julie the impression he was mostly lost in thought, "My little sister."

Julie's eyes shifted between the three ghostly boys all quieter than anything Julie had ever encountered with them. The only other time Julie had seen Luke so sad was when Alex and Reggie brought her to Luke's childhood home. It was unsettling to see the usual happy go lucky boy drained of energy.

"Did you find her?" Julie asked recalling that Alex had been the only one so far to not attempt to find his family. Reggie had told Julie how his house turned into a bike shack but other than that the subject wasn't brought up.

"She disappeared in 1994." Luke choked out, clenching his eyes tight at the last smile he saw on your face. The one that was seared in his mind with the regret of never taking his chance with you.

Twenty-six years didn't wipe the deep feelings he still held for the girl who had disappeared with his heart. Attempts to find her futile leaving her state just as unknown as back in the '90s. The case had been long cold with the years erasing her memory from people as they moved on.

"Did she-"

"We don't know. One night she just disappeared with no clues." Reggie supplied finding himself to be the only one able to speak. Luke and Alex overtook by the flood of grief and guilt that came every time they grew strong enough to mention her name.

"I can look for her if you want." Julie offered to the trio, "If she's living she may have social media. More likely Facebook with her age but if I can get-"

"No." Luke and Alex spoke at the same time with equal passion in their voices, but it was Luke that continued, "I don't want to know."

Julie's lips parted, but Luke already left with Alex in tow by the grasp on his distressed jean jacket. The Mercer boy sending a smile of gratitude, leaving Reggie alone with her.

"I'd like to know." Reggie softly spoke, meeting the gaze of the living girl, "Maybe that's why we're here too. To find the truth about her disappearance and if we find something, we can tell them."

The shadowed pain in his eyes creating a yearning in Julie's heart, "Of course. Can you tell me about her? I could build a portfolio on possible places she's been."

"Her disappearance was a catalyst for a lot of things that happened." Reggie admitted breaking his usual carefree and clueless demeanour, "Alex and Y/N aren't twins. She was a year younger than us but where one sibling went, so did the other. They understood each other more than the band could ever know."

"Why hasn't Alex talked about her?"

"It's hard. The world in the '90s is very different from this time. We've mentioned bits and pieces of our lives, but you don't know the darker pieces."

Julie listened intently as Reggie was the most serious she had ever seen him, showing her that there was more to Reggie Peters than he let on. Julie felt honoured he trusted her enough to drop his guard that he held up strong.

"Mr. and Mrs. Mercer had certain beliefs that their family should hold and show the rest of the world. Before the band, Alex and Y/N were shells of their real selves laced into designer clothing, perfect grades, charity galas and their futures already written."

"So, they came from money? Galas and designer clothing." Julie rolled her eyes, "What was so bad about that?"

"Just because they had money didn't mean they weren't suffering. Anything less than 98% was a failure to Mr. Mercer. By the time Y/N was thirteen, she was trained on how to be a perfect lady. Alex wasn't supposed to play the drums, both he and Y/N were classically trained on piano and violin." Reggie recalled, "The first time Alex held drumsticks it was like he shattered the glass window of the tank he was drowning in."

"What about Y/N?" Julie questioned, wrapping her arms around her knees as she watched Reggie melted into the memories he fondly held dear in his heart.

"She stayed in her tank drowning, so Alex didn't have to be alone." Reggie simply replied a fond smile reappearing at the days you would dedicate to solely to him.

Reggie didn't like to talk about the things that went on behind the doors of his idyllic beach house. You just knew and gave him days that let him step out of the fear of the unknown. He didn't have to put up his front like he did with the guys, he got to be unapologetically Reginald Peters. The boy that had wished his parents would stop fighting and be that happy family once more, but his wishes never got answered.

"She sounds like a really cool person."

"Luke and she had this unspoken relationship that never evolved into more. Both too scared the other didn't feel the same. The night she disappeared, he was going to tell her he loved her. When it didn't happen, he was going to do it the next morning."

 "But she was never found. What do you think happened?" Julie questioned the Peters boy who's smile dropped. His mind flipping through all the what-ifs that had lived in his brain for the entire year before he died.

"I think she ran into trouble and couldn't find a way out. I only hope if she passed away, it was easy and quick." Reggie finished instantly flipping the switch back to his usual oblivious façade used as his coping mechanism.

"I was thinking we could work on that song?" Luke piped up as he and Alex both poofed back into the studio as if the last hour hadn't happened. Both their pain neatly placed back in that box in their brains the light barely caught a glance at.

As Sunset Curve poured themselves into the song, they worked on together deep in the basement of the Molina's a sound lightly filled the space. The sound of a celebration heard with the backing of upbeat trumpets followed by a laugh. A soft golden glow lighting up the dark basement through a sheet protecting an antique piece of furniture.

The Golden Age, Cair Paravel, Narnia

The House of Pevensie ruled fairly and justly for a decade and a half together with High King Peter and his Queen, you, by his side. Never one to cower from a battle you were often found by Peter's side holding the sword and the bow strapped over your back. Both items gifts from Father Christmas back during the Winter Rebellion against the White Witch.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. In the year 1015 of the Golden Age, the Kings and Queens of Narnia set out on a hunt. Leaving the daily duties to their court, the Pevensie family decided to hunt the magical White Stag. It was a break from the stress of ruling and failing to provide an heir to the kingdom for you and Peter.

"How are you?" Susan questioned slowly to a trot beside you and your horse Mercer. The question flaring frustration once more in your body.

"I am fine, Susan." You sighed looking ahead to where Peter was speaking with Edmund and Lucy animatedly. His blue eyes raising to meet yours with the fondness that had evolved from the love.

The courtship that turned into marriage had mellowed from the way it had been in your early '20s. At thirty-one, you found that what you had thought was everlasting love was simply just two teenagers with mutual attraction. The only two that understood each other coming from a different place than Narnia.

You still loved Peter, but something made you feel as if he wasn't the first man you had loved and certainly not as much as this nameless person. Overtime Peter and you came to the same conclusion, you ruled as before. You loved each other but not as fiercely as before with the kingdom's responsibilities, placing the relationship on the back burner.

You had years to fix it, however. That's the excuse you always told herself when the guilt of thinking of another.

"The last person to the White Stag has to sit through O'Rielly's draft of his speech," Edmund called out before racing off with his trusted horse Philip taking the lead. Only momentarily as Peter first overtook him.

Mercer swiftly brought you up right behind Peter with a grin on both of your faces.

"Ed, as usual, makes his declaration and can't keep up!" You called over your shoulder at the twenty-eight-year-old King.

His response is a teasing eye roll as he leaned over to caress Philip, "Are you all right, Philip?"

"I'm not as young as I once was." The dashing dark brown horse huffed to his rider as he shifts on his hooves returning to his confident stance—the other royal horses returning to Edmund's side as well. Mercer immediately stepping up on Philip's left flank with a soft sound of acknowledgement.

"Come on, Ed," Susan spoke barely giving Philip a look as she had known for a while that it may be time for Philip to retire. For Philip to choose his successor to serve his King, but it was hard for Edmund to think of Philip retiring.

"Just catching my breath," Edmund informed his cheery older sister patting Philip once more before sitting up straight in the saddle. His brown eyes scanning the surroundings hugging the family in warmth reminiscent of his mother's arms.

"That'll be all we'll catch at this rate." Susan retorted copying Edmund by patting her horse's head earning a thankful neigh in response. The teasing grin lighting up Susan's pretty features that had many a suitor at the castle for her hand in marriage.

"What did he say again, Susan?" Lucy inquired with rosy cheeks from the autumn wind hitting from the exhilaration of riding. Coming to a stop beside the youngest royal, your hand found a home in Peter's calloused one.

"I believe he underestimated us as usual." You inserted sharing a smile with both your sisters-in-laws, "I can't quite recall the words…Susan, would you recall them?"

"' you girls wait in the castle. I'll get the stag myself' were his words with his cheeky smile." Susan replied. Unlike when Edmund was thirteen, he joyfully joined in the laughter filling the woods of Narnia.

Your eyes scanning the area that tickled a faint memory of a girl wearing unusual clothing in the kingdom. A shirt that bared your skin in the dead of winter. The shirt paired with a short skirt of a similar colour to another young woman. Your attention brought Peter's to the landscape as well. So curious the High King dismounted his horse and helped you down. 

 "What's this?" Peter inquired stepping closer to a tall pole with a lamp lit up with a flame. Covered in vines it was nearly invisible to the eye unless you looked up, "It seems familiar. Love, do you know what it is?"

"I don't remember it. I've seen it but how I did evades me." You replied, stepping closer to the lamppost. Susan was quick to step up beside you just as confused.

"As if from a dream?" Susan spoke, earning a mute nod from you as that same faceless man flickered in your memory. The one that haunted your dreams with the odd cameo of a blonde man.

Your eyes returning the horse you named Mercer as the name held an emotional connection you never understood. Often you would have a memory tickle your brain before disappearing with tasks to be done at the castle. When you saw the back of a blonde in crowds, you felt sad and lost. Or feeling Peter's hand in your own fluttering your heart until your e/c eyes found his bright blue and the fluttering died down.

"Of a dream of a dream," Lucy spoke, turning on her heel to the vast trees concealing the beyond. Lucy spoke barely louder than a whisper, "Spare Oom."

With that, the youngest Queen raced off through the woods with her family on her heels. 

"Lucy!" Peter admonished the retreating form of his little sister in her blood-red dress. A deep sigh pulled from your lips as the free-spirited woman ignored their calls.

"Every time. I swear she's still a kid at heart." You spoke jogging alongside Edmund behind Susan and Peter. Your midnight blue dress barely touching the grass of the forest floor.

"You're a kid at heart as well." Edmund merely replied, keeping his eyes on the bright colours of the royal garb his siblings wore.

"Come on!" Lucy's voice called out through the branches that slowly but surely turned softer and the trees tapered smaller.

"These aren't branches!" Peter called out in his deep voice that temporally turned higher before it went back to the gravelly tone. You swore with everything inside his hands became softer and harder to grasp.

"Keen observation there." You retorted taken aback at the attitude you found infused in your voice as if you a teenager once more. Peter's surprise quickly found in his blue eyes that glanced over his shoulder.

"Ow! Ooh!" Edmund hissed as a branch scraped his cheeks and the pain vanished with the soft touch of fur on the scratch. The sudden change of texture startled him almost as the switch of his voice to the high pitch of his thirteen-year-old self.

"They're coats! Fur coats!" Susan gasped startled by the odd shift between the forest and whatever this place was. 

"Mrs. Beaver would throw a fit over th- Ow! Lucy, you elbowed my ribs!" You whined stumbling into Peter's side as the others complained at each other hitting, stepping and kicking as the area became smaller and smaller.

Your eyes raising to meet Peter's blue taken aback by his appearance back when you had fought side by side against the White Witch. The eyes that kept rapt with yours at the coronation fifteen years ago and then your wedding ten years previous. 

Then behind the siblings in front of you, a door opened to a large empty room with windows behind framing a rural countryside. Then your husband and in-laws were gone, and you fell out with memories from a lost life hitting you full force as you tripped out of the wardrobe. 

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