#i was so so so excited for Raven to have someone after all she's been through

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Make You Remember

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x Reader

GENRE: angst, fluff

TYPE: One Shot

Inspired by: Make You Remember - Lazy Weekends

A/N: i’ve been in a writing slump this year, but every now and then, i’d come here to read. recently, a few pieces caught my attention and reignited my urge to write. so, here we are! while revisiting my 2018 spotify playlists for a dose of nostalgia, i stumbled upon one of my favorite songs from back then—it felt like the perfect way to ease back into writing. (a little shoutout to 2cool-2die, her stories were what got me back into writing). anyway, hope you all enjoy the story!

“Stop staring at her like a creep,” Minjeong whispered, her large eyes narrowing in a protective glare.

Jimin couldn’t help herself. She had been watching you for the past hour—watching the way you threw your head back in laughter at something your friends said or carefully picked the tomatoes off your sandwich to hand them off to someone else. Her fists clenched at the sight.

You used to pluck off tomatoes and feed them to her, letting her play your knight in shining armor against your sworn enemy: tomatoes. It should’ve been her.

Oh, how she missed that smile you used to reserve just for her.

“Dude, I’m serious,” Minjeong hissed again, this time throwing a balled-up tissue at Jimin’s face. “This is getting out of hand.”

Jimin grunted in annoyance, lazily stretching her long arms overhead before sprawling out on the metal bench. Her head landed on Aeri’s lap as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“I can’t help it. I miss her,” she admitted quietly, closing her eyes as Aeri absentmindedly began combing through her soft raven-black hair with her fingers.

“Well, you should’ve done better,” NingNing said flatly, taking a deep drag from her Juul. “She really loved you, you know.”

The girls expected Jimin to snap back, as she always did. Instead, they watched her deflate entirely, burrowing her face into Aeri’s stomach for solace.

“I know.”

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Jimin had always been sure of herself. She was proud of her decisions, every one of them. After all, she had transferred from one of the top universities in the UK to pursue her passion for dance in Korea—a choice that went against her parents’ wishes. They had warned her about the instability of a dance career, but she’d proved them wrong.

She had met Minjeong, Aeri, and NingNing shortly after her return, and together, they formed a dance group. Now in her third year of university, Jimin was part of AESPA, a group that had skyrocketed to fame after winning first place in a national competition.

With a growing fanbase, a promising future, and an upcoming performance in front of the president at the annual ceremony, Jimin had every reason to be proud of her choices.

Every reason—except for letting you go.

She had met you during her first year back in Korea. You were the university’s student ambassador, tasked with introducing new students to campus life. Since she was the only mid-semester transfer at the time, Jimin had the luck of spending the entire day with you, just the two of you.

You captivated her immediately. Your soft, angelic voice, dry sense of humor, and those big brown eyes that lit up with excitement over the smallest things…like the library. Jimin had thought you were the lamest, cutest little thing she’d ever met. And from that moment, she was hooked.

Jimin made it her mission to sweep you off your feet. Surprised but not surprised, you had plenty of admirers. You were popular, down-to-earth, and undeniably beautiful, the kind of person who effortlessly drew others in. That only made Jimin's task harder, pushing her to work tirelessly to win your heart.

To everyone else, you were the classy student ambassador, smart, athletic, and poised. But Jimin knew the truth: beneath all that polish, you were a total nerd. 

So, she went out of her way to prove how much she cared. She’d pick you up from class with your favorite snacks, even when her schedule was packed.

She once secretly drove across state lines to attend an anime expo, just to get you those rare Pokémon cards you’d been obsessing over…though she swore she lost at least a million cool points doing it. But every second was worth it when she saw your face light up. Jimin even sat through every Avengers movie, biting back sarcastic remarks just to see you smile. 

Before long, you were hers and she was yours. You found yourself snuggled into her arms during late-night movie marathons, or cheering from backstage as she started entering dance competitions.

You were her there to support when she doubted herself after losing a dance battle, always ready with a hug and soft kisses. You were AESPA's unofficial fifth member, helping them set up for street performances and cheering louder than anyone else when they won.

And when AESPA skyrocketed to fame, you stood faithfully by her side, despite the growing distance you felt creeping in. 

But fame did something to Jimin. Slowly, the girl who once drove hours for Pokémon cards began to lose sight of the things that mattered. You were the first to notice the changes. Jimin started craving the spotlight more than anything else, and you quietly faded into the shadows.

You stopped bringing up your hobbies after a fan on her livestream mocked you for being childish. You stopped asking her for late-night drives when her excuses became more frequent. And you stopped waiting for her to notice how tired you looked, how empty you felt. 

She didn’t notice when you began packing up your prized Pokémon collection, throwing it all away as if erasing a piece of yourself. She didn’t notice when you started leaving events early, hiding the hurt behind a polite smile. Jimin was so caught up in her world of adoration, flashing lights, and applause that she failed to see you slipping through her fingers. 

She didn’t notice until it was far too late. By the time she turned around, desperate to hold onto what was left, you were already gone. She had lost you. And in losing you, she lost the part of herself that had once felt complete.

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“C’mon, Jimin. Get out of your head.” Jimin slapped her forehead in frustration as she stumbled through the routine once again.

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor was followed by a collective groan from the rest of the girls, who collapsed onto the studio floor in exhaustion. AESPA was under pressure. They were supposed to perfect a dance routine for a massive ad collaboration, a career-defining moment. But with finals looming and the team juggling school and practice, their patience was wearing thin. 

“I’m really sorry, guys,” Jimin said quietly, glancing at her exhausted teammates sprawled on the floor.

Aeri’s pink hair stuck to her damp face, and Minjeong lay flat on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling like she’d lost her will to live. 

“It’s been three months, Jimin.” NingNing sighed, rubbing her temples. “When are you going to get over her? This isn’t like you.”��

“I’m trying,” Jimin muttered, her gaze locked on her scuffed sneakers, her throat tight with unshed tears. “But at the same time…I don’t want to.” 

“Well, what do you want, then?” Aeri asked, sitting up with a tired glare.

She was drained. She was tired of practice, of exams, and most of all, of watching her leader spiral into a deep abyss of self-hatred and regret in front of her. 

Jimin hesitated, her dark brows knitting together as if weighing the weight of her answer.

“I want her back,” she finally admitted. “I want Y/N back.” 

“Absolutely not,” Minjeong snapped, suddenly sitting up and joining the conversation. Her arms crossed, and her expression was livid. “You broke her, Jimin. You fucking broke her heart.” 

Jimin lowered her head, guilt weighing heavy on her shoulders, but her she had already made this decision days ago. After finding one of your old LEGO pieces buried under her bed, a reminder of simpler, happier times, she had cradled it in her hands and cried like a baby.

That night, she spiraled into a social media stalking session, scrolling through your photos, searching for any trace of the love she had destroyed. That was when she decided she’d do whatever it took to make things right. 

“I’ll treat her right this time,” Jimin whispered, her voice trembling.

“I’ll do anything to make her happy.” 

Minjeong stood abruptly, storming over to Jimin, her smaller frame radiating fiery anger. Despite the height difference, Jimin instinctively cowered under Minjeong’s glare. 

“Do you know how many times she came to me crying in the middle of the night because you couldn’t even show up for a date? How insecure you made her feel? How your stupid fangirls tore her apart?” Minjeong jabbed a finger into Jimin’s chest with every accusation.

“She’s my best friend, Jimin. I won’t let you hurt her again. She gave you everything. She gave you so many chances, and you let her down every single time.” 

The room crackled with tension as Jimin’s lips parted to respond, but no words came out. Sensing a fight about to break out, NingNing and Aeri hurriedly stepped between the two girls. 

“Hey, now’s not the time to fight,” NingNing said gently, wrapping her arms around Minjeong’s shoulders to pull her back. “We all care about Y/N, okay? Let’s take a second.” 

“Please,” Jimin pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears rimmed her eyes, but there was an earnestness in her tone that softened her hardened edges.

“Just give me a chance. I swear I’ll never hurt her again.” 

“No. No fucking way,” Minjeong snapped, her voice firm. 

“How about we let Y/N decide herself?” Aeri suggested cautiously, flinching slightly under Minjeong’s searing glare.

“Jimin can talk to her. If she says no…then that’s it. Jimin walks away and never bothers her again.” 

The blonde hesitated. She knew how deeply you had loved Jimin and how much it had cost you when things fell apart. Letting Jimin reach out could undo all the progress you’d made. But at the same time…if she stopped this, would you resent her for it? 

With a heavy sigh, Minjeong finally relented. “Fine. Just one sentence. If she reacts badly to whatever you say, you stay the hell away from her. For good.” 

Jimin’s lips curved into a genuine smile for the first time in months, a smile full of hope, the kind that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

“One sentence is more than enough to make her remember.”

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They say the easiest way to someone's heart is through their stomach, so Jimin threw herself into her first mission with relentless determination. The five-hour drive to Busan and back didn’t faze her—this was for you. She needed to remind you of the small things, the little joys you used to share.

The memory of your trips together flooded her mind: your hand in hers, your voice belting off tune to whichever K-pop song was stuck in your head, and your infectious laughter filling the car. She prayed to the gods to hear that laugh again. 

By the time she returned to Seoul, the darkness of the night had already cloaked the streets. Armed with the pink box of macarons from your hometown bakery, Jimin’s heart raced with anticipation and dread. Aeri had passed along a tip (reluctantly overheard from Minjeong, who would never willingly disclose your whereabouts to Jimin) that you were working a shift at the local bistro. 

When Jimin walked into the cozy bistro, the soft chime of the bell drew attention from other patrons. Murmurs rippled through the room as people recognized her, AESPA’s leader, a rising star. But Jimin’s focus was on you. Only you. 

You stood behind the counter, your hair tied up in a messy bun, concentrated on preparing a tray of drinks. You weren’t as put-together as you are in school, with your crisp white shirt bearing faint creases, but to Jimin, you were as breathtaking as ever. 

She made her way to the counter, sitting directly in front of you. She waited, patient and quiet, as you prepared another Long Island, your tongue sticking out in concentration. 

“Hi, sorry for the wait. What can I—” You froze mid-sentence as your eyes met hers.

Recognition flickered across your face, followed by a flash of pain. Your expression changed into something cold, guarded. 

“No.” Your tone was flat, final. “Please leave.” 

Jimin didn’t flinch. Her gaze softened, a melancholic smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t respond, she couldn’t. Not yet, she only had one chance. All she knew was that seeing you here within an arms length, was enough to momentarily soothe the ache in her chest. 

As much as you tried to suppress it, your heart betrayed you, fluttering at the sight of her. Jimin looked effortlessly stunning, her leather jacket rolled up to reveal familiar tattoos snaking down her forearm. She was exactly how you remembered and yet entirely different. 

She stared at you for another moment, her silence unnerving. Her eyes brimmed with emotions you couldn’t understand. Finally, Jimin rose to her feet, placed the pink box on the counter, and lightly squeezed your arm before turning to leave. 

You stared at the box, stunned, your mind reeling. It was from your favorite bakery in Busan, the one she had driven hours to visit countless times when you were together. Your chest tightened as you realized the lengths she must’ve gone to for this gesture. 

But you couldn’t let yourself fall for her again. Not this time. 

“I’ll be right back!” you yelled to your coworker, grabbing the box as you stormed out of the bistro.

The cold November air bit at your skin as you scanned the street for her. 

You found her leaning against a lamppost, a cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight stopped you in your tracks. When had she started smoking again? Fury flared in your chest. You strode toward her, plucking the cigarette from her fingers and tossing it to the ground. 

“What the hell, Jimin?” you snapped, glaring at her. “I thought you quit.” 

She continued to stay silent, her dark eyes fixed on you as if trying to engrave your face in her memories.

Your anger wavered. You shouldn’t care. You couldn’t care. Not after everything. Shoving the pink box back into her hands, you hissed, “Don’t ever come to this bistro again.” 

The words tasted bitter, and regret coiled in your stomach the moment they left your lips. But you couldn’t take them back. Not now. 

Jimin nodded wordlessly, her lips curling into a soft, bittersweet smile—one that inexplicably cut deeper than any argument could. With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the cold night. 

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It seemed after that night, Jimin had made it her mission to claw her way back into your life, whether you wanted her to or not. She didn’t speak, didn’t push, but her presence was always there, an unspoken reminder of everything you’d once shared.

You could feel her eyes on you during lunch, lingering from across the cafeteria as if she thought she could will you to look back. Even on your way to work, you swore you’d catch her silhouette in the distance, leaning against a lamppost or sitting on a nearby bench, always careful not to cross any boundaries but still there.

The weekends were no escape either. When AESPA was invited to perform at the school fair you unfortunately was in charge of organizing, it felt like fate, or perhaps Jimin, was mocking you. She stood front and center, capturing attention with her effortless charm, but every so often her eyes would search for yours in the crowd, a desperate glance that left you feeling raw and exposed.

What annoyed you most, though, was her silence. She never spoke to you, never tried to bridge the impossible gap between you. And yet, as much as it infuriated you, you hated to admit how much you missed her voice.

The way it would rasp slightly in the mornings when she whispered sweet nothings into your ear, or the confident drawl she carried when talking to others.

This Jimin, silent and unsure, almost timid, felt like a stranger. It was disarming, and you weren’t sure if you hated her for it or if it broke your heart just a little more.

As much as you tried to build walls around yourself, Jimin had a way of chipping at them, bit by bit, with gestures that felt achingly familiar.

One evening when you finally left the library, you found a gift on the hood of your car, neatly wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, was a book you had mentioned loving once, years ago before you got together with her, a rare edition of poetry that you never got the chance to buy.

Tucked inside was a small card with her unmistakable handwriting:

For when you need an escape.– J

Your heart twisted painfully, remembering how she used to surprise you with little things like this, whether it was a book, a drink she knew you loved, or a random trinket that reminded her of you.

Another day, on your way home from a long shift, you found her waiting by the campus fountain. She didn’t approach, didn’t say anything, just held out a single stem of a sunflower, your favorite flower, the kind she used to bring to your dorm every time you aced an exam.

You wanted to yell at her, to demand why she was doing this now, but instead, you took the flower silently, clutching it tightly all the way home.

The memories came rushing back. The way she used to sit with you for hours in the library, pretending to study but really just stealing glances at you over the top of her books. How she’d wake up early to walk you to class, even if it meant cutting her own sleep short. The nights she stayed up late with you on the phone, talking about nothing and everything until you both fell asleep to the sound of each other's breathing.

Jimin knew exactly how to unravel you, and she was relentless in her quiet persistence.

Another day, after a particularly stressful day, you find yourself staring at a box left outside your apartment. Inside was a Slowpoke doll (you used to call her your SlowPoke because she was always running late and had a knack for falling asleep in random places) and a note: 

I know how these made you feel like you weren’t good enough, but these are the things I love about you. All your interests, your little habits…don’t stop.

You shoved the box under your bed in a haze of shame and anger. You’d given up your obsession with Pokémon long ago, sacrificing that part of yourself just to appease her fans and their cruel remarks. But as the days stretched on, your resolve wavered. You caught yourself glancing at the box more often than you cared to admit, the memories flooding into your mind. 

Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled the Slowpoke doll from the box and placed it on your bed. That night, you held it close as you drifted off to sleep, comforted by a piece of the past you thought you’d lost. 

Each gesture tugged at the guarded heart. You hated her for how easily she slipped back into your life, even as you found yourself clutching the flower she’d given you, rereading her notes late into the night, and biting your lip to suppress the warmth spreading in your chest.

You hated her, and yet, you couldn’t deny your feelings for her. You never could.

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You wrapped your scarf tightly around your neck, shielding yourself from the brisk evening wind as you waited for Minjeong outside the movie theater.

The newest Marvel movie had finally been released, and although you’d downplayed your excitement, your heart raced. Your lame obsession with Avengers had always been a sore spot, especially since Jimin’s fangirls used it to mock you mercilessly.

Over time, you tried to bury that part of yourself, to hide how much you still adored superheroes. It was easier than facing the ridicule—or the memories tied to it. 

When Minjeong, your best friend since elementary school, asked if you wanted to see the movie, you hesitated at first. But her easy acceptance of your quirks had always been earnest, so you agreed.

The sound of tires crunching gravel pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up to see a sleek black Mercedes pulling into the parking lot. Minjeong stepped out, her face drawn in a disgruntled scowl. She spotted you and quickly brightened, crossing the space in a few brisk strides before pulling you into a warm hug. 

“Hey, Y/N-nie. Have you been waiting long?” she asked, her voice light, though her body was stiff against yours. 

You shook your head, but something about her demeanor made you pause. Your gaze drifted back to the car, the sleek black exterior gleaming under the parking lot lights. A pit formed in your stomach as realization hit. 

“Was that… Jimin?” you asked cautiously. 

Minjeong froze. Her jaw tightened, her grip on your arms faltering slightly before she let out a resigned sigh. She avoided your eyes as she nodded.

“Yeah,” she admitted reluctantly. 

“She’s the one who asked me to bring you here,” Minjeong added after a pause. Her tone was careful, measured, as though she were treading on thin ice. “She even bought the tickets beforehand.” 

You blinked at her, stunned. 

“I didn’t want to do it,” Minjeong continued quickly, frustration in her voice. “I told her this was a bad idea, but…” She trailed off, biting her lip as her gaze dropped to the ground.

“She was persistent.” 

Your heart did a strange flip at that. You could almost picture Jimin sitting across from Minjeong, stubborn as ever, insisting that she take you to the movie. She must have known showing up herself would only push you away, so she found a way to make sure you’d still see it. It was so… Jimin. Thoughtful in a way that made your chest ache. 

“She’s been doing things like this for weeks,” Minjeong muttered, almost to herself. “Little things. She thinks they’ll fix everything.” Her round eyes flickered with an anger she didn’t bother to hide.

“I told her to leave you alone. I told her you didn’t need her messing things up again.” 

“She hasn’t been bothering me,” you said softly, reaching out to squeeze Minjeong’s hand in reassurance when her voice grew sharp.

“I promise, Jeongnie. She hasn’t done anything. Don’t worry.” 

Minjeong’s shoulders sagged slightly, but her lips pressed into a tight line. “Has she talked to you yet?” 

You shook your head. “No. Weirdly, she hasn’t said a word. Just… left some gifts every now and then.” 

At that, Minjeong’s eyes widened, and she groaned, slapping her forehead.

“I’m so stupid,” she muttered, half to herself. 

“What?” you asked, confused by her sudden exasperation. 

She shook her head quickly, waving the question away. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go inside. The movie’s about to start.” 

As she guided you toward the theater, her arm looped protectively through yours. Though Minjeong was close friends with the leader, it was clear she didn’t like Jimin trying to worm her way back into your life.

You could see it in the tightness of her jaw, the subtle furrow in her brow. She didn’t trust Jimin. Not her promises, not her intentions, and certainly not her ability to heal the wounds she’d caused. After all, it had been Minjeong who had patiently helped you piece yourself back together, bit by bit.

And yet, the fact that she’d brought you here today, using Jimin’s tickets, betrayed the tiny sliver of hope she held for her.

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This was the fifth time that day Jimin walked past the bistro, casually peering through the windows with her hands stuffed in her leather jacket pockets before walking away.

You watched her each time, fidgeting, kicking the ground with her boots, looking like she wanted to step inside but was holding back. It was endearing, not that you’d admit it. But every time, she chose to walk away, opting to follow your words from before instead.

It had begun to snow, and you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying.

“Stupid oaf,” you muttered, before slipping outside to call out Jimin’s name.

She was already on her sixth round of circling the bistro, her slender figure blending into the gray snowfall.

“Yoo Jimin!” You called, your breath forming a cloud in the cold air.

The raven-haired girl stopped in her tracks, her shoulders stiffening before she slowly turned around to look at you. A nervous grin tugged at her lips, and your heart fluttered involuntarily.

“Just…just come in.” You sighed, avoiding her gaze.

Jimin’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with glee like a little kid as she quickly made her way over.

You led her through the busy bistro, past the tables full of customers, to the counter, exactly where she had sat the first time she came. You couldn’t help but feel self-conscious at the way she was staring at you, her face resting in her palms, eyes wide and starry.

Sighing, you pushed the menu to her. “What do you want to order?”

Jimin merely looked at you, a silly smile gracing her lips. Your eyes flickered to it, momentarily lost in the soft curve of her mouth and her luscious lips, before quickly looking away.

“Fine.” You mumbled, quickly pouring her a cup of warm coffee.

Fortunately, you were distracted by the steady stream of orders. It was a Saturday night, after all, and that meant people were coming in for drinks. You were busy making drinks, serving them, but with Jimin there, it felt different, lighter, happier.

That was when Joon, a usual customer and a tall, blurry figure, stumbled over to the counter, clearly drunk. You tensed instantly. Joon was always handsy when he drank, more often than not, and you always tried to stay out of his way.

“Y/NNNNN,” he slurred, leaning way too close for comfort, his breath heavy on the counter.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed, and you saw the muscles in her jaw clench.

“I missed you,” Joon continued, leaning forward, his gaze lingering in a way that made your stomach churn.

“How about we go on a date? My place is just around the corner.”

“I’m not interested, Joon.” You pushed back, trying to create some space. “Please, leave me alone.”

Joon’s expression twisted into something more sinister, his hand suddenly reaching over the counter to grab your arm, his fingers digging into your skin. You winced at the pressure, red marks forming on your arm as he held you tight.

That’s when Jimin had had enough. She stood up, towering over him, her height equal to his, but with a quiet strength that commanded attention.

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.” Her voice was cold, and before you could react, she pushed Joon off, sending him stumbling backward into the wall.

Joon recovered quickly and swung at Jimin, narrowly missing her face by a hair. You stepped forward, panic flooding your chest, quickly pulling Jimin away from him.

“Let it go, Jimin,” you urged, your voice shaky as you tugged her close to you. “Please, stop.”

Jimin hesitated, her eyes softening as she looked at you. She reached down and gently cradled the arm that Joon had grabbed, her cold fingers brushing over the tender skin, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I’m okay,” you said, trying to reassure her.

She looked like she was about to say something when a yell from your coworkers snapped your attention back to the scene. You turned just in time to see Joon charging forward, having managed to break free from the grip of your coworkers. His fist collided with Jimin’s temple with a sickening crunch, and she crumpled to the floor.

You screamed, panic rising as onlookers rushed to contain Joon. Jimin lay motionless, and you immediately knelt by her side, heart racing.

“Jimin?” You screamed, rushing to her side. The blood had already begun to trickle down her temple, and a bruise was swelling rapidly.

You knelt beside her, panic clawing at your chest. “Jimin? Baby? Please, wake up.”

You cupped her pale face in your trembling hands, her skin cool against your palms. She was so still, and it terrified you.

After a few moments of desperate attempts to rouse her, her eyelids finally fluttered open, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“Oh thank god,” you sighed out in relief, your chest tightening as her eyelids slowly fluttered open.

“Jimin? Can you hear me?”

Her cheeks were squished as your hands cupped her face. You might have found it cute if you weren’t so worried. Her dazed expression and the way her chubby cheeks puffed out only made your heart ache more.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked, a dopey smile still lingering on her lips.

You leaned back, running a hand through your hair in relief and exasperation.

“No, Jimin,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You just got punched. This is very real.”

Her grin faltered in realization. Her eyes widened in horror as she scrambled to sit up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered, groaning in embarrassment, her hands shooting up to touch her tender forehead.

“Please forget I said anything. Please.”

She couldn’t believe that she wasted her only chance, her only sentence, just to ask her if you were real.

You reached out, gently stopping her from touching her injury. “Don’t touch. You’re bleeding.”

Your manager let you leave early after apologizing repeatedly to Jimin. After all, one of the biggest rising stars had just been injured in his bistro.

Jimin smiled good-naturedly and shrugged off his apologies, clearly not phased. She had refused to go to the hospital for a check-up, and unable to stop yourself, you found yourself driving her back to your apartment.

You promised yourself this was a one-time thing, that you were just being a caring, responsible friend. Anyone would’ve done the same for her, right?

As you led her into your room, she glanced around, the familiar space tugging at something in her heart. Her eyes landed on her sweatshirt that she had lost so long ago, still draped casually over the chair.

She noticed the absence of the photos on your vanity mirror, ones that once captured all the memories of the two of you. But, then, her gaze softened as it settled on the SlowPoke doll still sitting on your bed. Her heart skipped a beat. You had kept it.

You still cared, even if you seemed so distant, so far away.

Maybe, just maybe, you hadn't forgotten her love.

You paused in your tracks as you saw Jimin poking at the SlowPoke on your bed. You turned a brilliant shade of pink, flustered, before quickly ushering her to sit down so you could tend to her wound.

"Don't move," you muttered, your voice softer than you intended as you reached up gingerly to disinfect the cut on her temple.

She winced and hissed in pain but didn’t pull away, remaining still, her dark eyes never leaving your face. The closeness of your bodies was unnerving, her skin so warm under your touch, and that tight white shirt she wore, showing off her tattoos, only added to the flurry of thoughts rushing through your head.

Why did she have to be so damn beautiful?

Jimin, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes off you. The softness in your eyes and the gentleness of your touch, was making her heart race. She wasn’t sure if she'd ever have this chance again.

"Why are you doing this, Jimin?" you asked, your voice coming out a little more strained than you'd planned, your hands trembling as you applied a thin layer of medicine.

Jimin’s brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"

"All this," you said, motioning between the two of you. "Not talking to me, but following me around... giving me gifts..."

Jimin paused, taking a deep breath, before saying, “I wanted to make you remember.”

“Remember what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you finished applying the medicine.

She let out a small breath, trying to steady herself. "Remember us."

She looked down at her hands, then back up at you, her voice growing quieter, more vulnerable. "And... make you remember my love for you."

You froze, your hands retreating from her face as your heart pounded in your chest. You searched her eyes, so open, so full of regret and hope.

And in that moment, you knew you still loved her too.

"Jimin..." You tried to form words, but your throat was tight, the emotions threatening to spill over. “I-“

Before you could finish, Jimin quickly knelt beside the bed, gently cradling your hand in hers and placing it in your lap.

“Please, give me another chance, Y/N,” she begged, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free.

"These past few months without you have been... miserable. I know I hurt you. I know I lost myself, but I promise, I won’t let this happen again. I love everything about you, your softness, your quirky obsessions... everything. I’m sorry I didn’t reassure you when you were doubting yourself, or protect you from the hate.”

She took a shaky breath, and in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “I don’t think I could ever love anyone as much as I love you.”

Your heart clenched, the weight of her words crashing over you. The pain you had felt for so long, the loneliness that had settled deep in your soul, began to break. You missed her, but you're scared, so scared. Scared of trusting her again, scared of the hurt she could cause, scared of how much power she held over you.

“You hurt me, Jimin. So much,” you said softly, unable to keep the pain from your voice. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Jimin nodded, her face softening with understanding, though the sadness in her eyes remained. But she wasn’t giving up.

“I know,” she said, her voice steady. “But I will spend the rest of my life earning back your trust.”

And in that moment, with everything on the line, you finally gave in.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Her eyes widened, and that smile, so hopeful, so full of warmth, spread across her angelic face.

“Yes, Jimin. One chance.” You whispered, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears.

“Yes!” Jimin punched the air lamely, her eyes sparkling as she grabbed your hand, pulling you up effortlessly.

Before you could even react, she spun you around in a twirl, making you let out a small scream in surprise. The sudden rush of laughter filled the room as you both stumbled and collapsed onto the bed, her arms immediately wrapping around you.

.

.

.

.

The soft thud of Jimin’s heartbeat was lulling you to sleep, a comforting rhythm that calmed your racing thoughts. You gently traced the ink on her forearms, each line and curve filled with her memories. Her steady breathing was a lullaby, peaceful and steady, as you cuddled up to her.

After tending to her injury, you had given her a change of clothes, and let her stay the night. She refused to let go of you, her arms wrapped tightly around you, her lips pressing soft, affectionate kisses to your forehead. It was a strange feeling, like nothing could go wrong in that moment.

For the first time in months, your heart felt whole again, free of the old pain that had lingered too long.

But then, a thought crept into your mind. Gently, you pulled away slightly, your eyes meeting the beautiful dancer’s.

She whined, unhappy at the space between you. You laughed softly, seeing the playful pout on her lips. Outside, she was fierce, confident, and intimidating even, but here, in front of you, she was just a clingy baby.

“I wanted to ask,” you began, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “Why did you want me to forget about what you said at the bistro? When you told me to forget it?”

A faint pink blush spread across her cheeks, and she shifted uncomfortably, not meeting your eyes.

"It was because..." she trailed off, her voice hesitant, and you gently cupped her chin, forcing  her gaze to meet yours.

“Because of what?”

"Because Minjeong said I could only talk to you once. One sentence. If you reacted badly, I would have to leave your life for good," Jimin admitted, looking away in embarrassment.

"I couldn’t believe I wasted that one sentence on asking if you were real. I was scared Minjeong would beat me up if you got mad."

You stared at her in disbelief. "That was why you refused to speak to me?"

Jimin nodded, her lips twisting into a sheepish smile.

"You’re so fucking stupid, Jimin," you muttered under your breath, shaking your head, though a fond smile tugged at your lips.

"Thank god you’re good at dancing, or else I’d be worried about your future."

"Hey!" she whined, pushing you playfully. "I’m not stupid! It’s just... Minjeong is scary when she’s mad."

Unable to hold back your endearment for this stupid lovable girl, you finally leaned down to press your lips to hers.

Jimin froze, marveling at the feel of your soft lips against hers. She had been dreaming about this moment for so long, and she quickly kissed you back with just as much enthusiasm. The kiss was soft at first, tentative before it deepened following the quickening of your heart beats.

When the air between you became a problem, you both pulled away, gasping for breath, but neither of you made a move to break the closeness. Your foreheads rested together, and for a moment, you just smiled into the space between your lips.

“What did you plan to say then?” You whispered, still breathless from the kiss, “The sentence.”

“Oh, I was going to say: Look at this cool tattoo I got.” She said mischievously, before sitting up and pulling off her shirt, leaving herself in nothing but a bra top.

You blushed immediately, eyes instinctively flicking to the defined muscles of her abs as she twisted to show you the back of her shoulders. For a moment, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the way her muscles flexed before your gaze landed on a small patch of ink on the corner of her right shoulder.

“You got a tattoo of a Charmander?” you sputtered, almost disbelieving.

“Yeah, it’s cute, right?” Jimin grinned, proud of herself.

“It reminded me of you. You have the same eyes as Charmander. And also, it’s your favorite Pokémon, so it’s a win-win.”

“Jimin, my favorite Pokémon is Chikorita…” you sighed, shaking your head in exasperation.

“Chikorita.” She repeated, her lips pursing in thought. “Not Charmander?”

“Not Charmander.”

She thought for a second, then shrugged with a grin. “At least it looks like you.”

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you grabbed the collar of her top and pulled her into another kiss, one that made her remember that you were definitely hers.

got a bit carried away so some scenes kinda dragged out 😬

but hope you all enjoyed this loserish version of jimin!

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 3

James Potter x Reader

Summary: A boy in your class haunts your search for your secret admirer, uncovering some feelings you thought you lost years before…

Warnings: Some very subtle sexual implications, secret admirer trope, extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, James is a virgin, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, oblivious!reader, Remus being the most supportive and helpful friend James has ever had, reader is a bit of a nerd, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.5K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Potions concluded with the setting sun. You adjusted in your seat to reach your bag, dropping supplies into its dark void. You had managed to phase the unusual situation you were in to the back of your mind, forgetting your secret admirer as you completed the class work. This was, however, short lived.

You turned back to your desk and spotted a folded note on its surface, the paper identical to the one you received the night before. You attempted to conceal your growing curiosity and excitement as you swiftly snatched it and launched yourself out of your chair, bag in hand.

Turning to leave the room, you thought of your friends’ ecstatic faces at the discovery of a new note, before-

Bump.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” You turned your frame to face the source of disruption, air pushed from your lungs for just a second. There stood a tentative James Potter, a splattering of rose appearing on his cheeks at your eye contact. “Um, I- I’m sorry!” He rambled, rushing away before you could even consider the interaction.

Your stomach quietly dipped and flipped at the contact, creating an unfamiliar warmth which you quickly forced down as you shook your head with a small smile. James Potter, ladies man, smooth talker and prank puller couldn’t even form a coherent sentence around you. Strange. Though, at least he apologised this time.

You exited the classroom, remembering the note you held in your hand, and practically skipped towards the Gryffindor common room with bubbling enthusiasm.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“And then I just froze! I can’t help it, her eyes are so captivating and she smells really good and the way she clutched the note so protectively made my heart flutter!” James finished his rambling, looking around his dorm in disbelief as his friends snickered affectionately.

“Good Merlin, Prongs! Every attractive bird you bump into like that at post-match parties would be subject to a dousing of charm, flirtations, and charisma by now…” Sirius quipped with a smirk, amused by the boy’s rare, flustered look hiding behind his hands.

“I mean, of course she’s a pretty one, Prongs, but what’s stopping you from wooing her like all the rest?” Silence fell on the group as James considered Sirius’ words. “Well, I don’t know, Prongs, maybe it’s because- well, you know, you’ve been…saving yourself…for h-“ Peter attempted, choosing not to finish his sentence after the entourage of warning glares met his eyes.

“James, Peter might have a point…for once…” Remus spoke after some consideration. “You obviously view her differently to all the other girls you’ve spoken to, and I know the reason you hesitate with all the rest is because you wish they were her…” Remus glanced at the raven-haired boy sitting on his bed as he said those last words, who was unaware as he moved to console James.

The young Potter was arched over, with his elbows on his knees and his face in the palms of his hands. His bed dipped under the weight of Sirius taking a seat beside him.

“Prongs, let me put it bluntly,” Sirius began, “you’ll have to either man up, chat her up and finally get the girl you deserve, or move on and bloody kiss someone else already. It’s no use pining over her if she doesn’t even know you’re pining! Now what did that second note say?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“‘You look so pretty today, I really like how you did your hair! And thank you for all your explanations in the class discussion, it really helped me stay on top of my grades with a beautiful thing like you sitting near me.’ He drew a little winking face next to that, ‘Forever yours.” Charlie and Hope burst into a fit of giggles after you recited the most recent note.

“He’s obsessed with you! This is so cute!” Charlie squealed, holding your shoulders and shaking you slightly for emphasis. “You know what this means, right? He must be in your potions class!” Hope stated with a smirk, leaning across from her seat on the floor to pick up your list of potential suitors.

“Let’s see, that leaves us with about…five options!” She exclaimed. Your bewildered expression contrasted her excitement, crawling over to her position on the dorm room floor. One, two, three, four…five. You counted the Gryffindor boys in your potions class as your eyes widened.

One name stuck out to you in particular: James Potter. As if sharing the same thought, Charlie brightened as she spotted the same name on the paper. “Potter is in that class! Oh my, my…you are quite the catch aren’t you, love?” She teased, inching closer to your warming face. “Ooh! You’re blushing! Are you sure you really got over him all those years ago, hmm?” Hope joined Charlie in closing the distance between all three of you as your cheeks gave you away.

“Of course I’m over him! That was in fourth year…well, maybe…ugh, it doesn’t matter! It’s probably not him anyway, I mean, I can’t imagine him finding the time to do any of this with his adoring fan club constantly surrounding him…” you muttered.

“But it could really be him! I mean, you were saying he gets all nervous and awkward around you, there’s a chance that could mean-“ You stopped Charlie’s rabbit hole of conspiracy, choosing not to dwell on the matter longer.

“There are four others on this list, it’s best if we cover all our bases.” Hope reasoned, joining you in rationality and convincing Charlie to do the same. “Let’s keep an eye out for any of these distinguished gentlemen paying extra attention to our darling friend.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The quiet night caused the atmosphere of the Gryffindor house to soften under the soft glow of the crescent moon. Remus couldn’t sleep. It was almost too peaceful, and he didn’t like it.

Sitting up in his bed, he glanced over the figures of his friends, their chests softly rising with each breath they took. Slinking into the cloak of darkness by the door, he slowly opened the door and forged a path to the common room.

There, sat under the light of a lamp, was a flowing cascade of your hair over the back of the couch. You were hunched over paper, concentrating on your History of Magic homework.

“Hey, can I join you?” Remus attempted not to startle you as he rounded the corner, joining you on the coach after you noticed his presence and nodded in confirmation.

Remus was always the more mature member of the Marauders, more focused on his studies than pranking innocent students.

“So, listen,” He began after a beat, “You’re working on History of Magic, right? I’ve noticed you’re really excelling in that class and, not to brag, but I’m quite good at it too.” You met his gaze. “I know, I’ve seen your writing. You clearly work hard.” You replied, instilling that Gryffindor courage in every word that would have normally been absent during interactions such as this, often causing you to dismiss the compliment with a shy smile.

Remus allowed himself a small grin at your unfamiliar nonchalance, continuing his proposition. “Oh, thank you! Well, I was wondering if you wanted to team up. I could be your study partner, and we could top the class together! I’ll teach you anything you’re not sure about, and I’d ask for the same in return.” You turned his proposal over in your mind, causing a small moment of silence between you two.

“There are some years I’m not so familiar with, and I certainly could do with the clarification. So sure, Remus, I’ll be your study partner!” You smiled warmly, comfortable in the newfound knowledge that the boy wasn’t a possible face behind your recently received love confessions. You found his proposition to be a friendly gesture, and far more genuine than any action you’d expect from a Marauder.

“Great!” He cheered, “We can start tomorrow. I often sit with my friends in the library, if you’re willing to join…” Remus trailed off, hoping you’d sit with his lovestruck friend for a few hours in the name of good grades.

“I’ll be there, Remus, thank you for the offer.” The words escaped your mouth before you had a chance to consider them, but Remus was already delighted by your acceptance. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, love, goodnight.”

He flashed a soft smile your way as he stood to return to his bed, leaving you bathing in the light of the lamp with an optimistic fluttering in your stomach.

You decided to leave it be, along with the hope that the boy with the rounded glasses would be there to get all flustered over you again, nagging that sweet, romantic side of your brain.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: Woohoo, here we go! I hope you’re all excited for some tooth aching fluff in the next chapter because it looks like reader is warming up to the Marauders >.< Thank you so much for reading this series, and be sure to like and reblog! Comment to be added to the tag list so you don’t miss chapter 4!

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

'Fake' Feelings

Zuko x Reader

Summary- In a pinch, you have to pretend to be in a relationship with Zuko. Little do you know it was never pretend for Zuko.

A/N- HAPPY BIRTHDAY @thethreeeyed-raven!!!!! This isn't my typical fandom as y'all know. I wrote this as a birthday gift to my best best best online friend. SHE'S AWESOME. Go check her fics out <3<3! CONTAINS A SINGLE BAD WORD >:)

Word Count- 2,468

"Mai, I already told you. I can't be with you!" Zuko was getting frustrated. While he did love Mai at one point, that was a long time ago. Zuko was now the Fire Lord, their relationship seemed like ages ago.

"And why not Zuko? We've been through this a hundred times. You always come running back, you're so pathetic. May as well cut the middle part and we can act like nothing happened." She stepped closer, pressing herself on his arm. "Like we always do..."

Zuko had finally realized how Mai controlled him. When he was weaker he was naive, now he knew what he wanted. Someone who never put him down, someone who never called him 'Pathetic.'

You.

He immediately thought of you. How you were so strong, but never put others down to feel powerful. How you always spoke your mind, but only out of the kindness you hid deep down.

Your walls were built up so high, but he knew who you were. He knew how beautiful you were.

"I can't be with you because I'm dating someone else." The words left his mouth faster than he could think.

This stopped Mai in her tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you're not the only one I am allowed to go out with. We've been broken up for awhile now." Zuko was no longer on the defense, but the attack.

"You do know that I am the only one who could love you. Who could love a traitor, a banished prince. Who else, huh?" Her arms were crossed, a smirk on her face. She knew she outwitted him.

Releasing his bit lip, Zuko exclaims your name.

Her face dropped. She knew exactly who you were. She was furious.

"We'll see about that..." With that, she left the room.

You were on your way to visit Zuko, one of your closest friends, for a 'friend reunion' Sokka had planned. You were of course excited to see him after so long. Though, the ride on Appa was miserable. About a hundred "are we there yet"s and "I'm hungry"s from Sokka.

The five of you- Sokka, Toph, Katara, and Aang made it safely to The Fire Nation shortly.

Upon landing, a man in red robes greeted everyone.

"The Fire Lord sends his deepest regards, as he could not see to you himself. You are instructed to follow me to your rooms." He had a stoic expression, but you guessed he greeted people all the time.

Oh well, Zuko must be very busy as a Fire Lord. You were sad, but couldn't blame him.

What you didn't know was that Zuko was pacing his room, definitely not busy. In reality, he cleared his schedule as much as possible for the week you were all visiting.

How was he going to tell you? He was deeply embarrassed, not to mention Mai might try and pull something with you. He knew not to underestimate her.

The thought of her trying to hurt you was enough to rack up the nerve to confess. He just needed a moment alone with you.

A grand dinner was prepared for the Avatars arrival, the rest of you reaped the rewards of being his friends.

"This is SOO good!" Sokka exclaimed, "Zuko sure has a way with food....." He slammed a fist on the table, before quickly lifting more food to his mouth,

"Sokka, you know he has chefs who make the food, right? Please tell me you know that..." You deadpanned, looking at him.

"Uh... Yeah! Yeah, definitely...." He looked down, that was until a new voice appeared.

"Sokka, did you really think I cooked all this?" Zuko walked to the seat at the head of the table. You noticed you were sat to his right.

It was a Fire Nation tradition that the Lady of the house would sit to the right of the Lord... You brushed the thought off quickly, writing it all off as a coincidence.

"W-well I don't know! You've been working ALL DAY!" Sokka squawked.

The dinner went on smoothly, well as smoothly a dinner can go with this group. You could feel the servants and servers rolling their eyes at all the unprofessional comments, jokes, and laughter.

You didn't care, you were just happy Zuko was able to be himself.

Hours later, when everyone was worn out and had their stomachs filled, they started to head to bed.

You were one of the last to leave, having been helping tidy up as much as you could.

You thanked and farewelled the servers, trying your best to remember where your room was.

The Palace was much bigger than you remembered. The halls upon halls blurred together. You were soon lost.

Every direction you turned looked the same, you started to breathe heavy.

You could already see it, 'cause of death, starvation in the Fire Nation Palace.' Or maybe dehydration would take you quicker?

A man passed by, you were saved! Though, the closer you got the bigger his scowl grew.

"Excuse me, I think I'm lost. Can you help me?" You were nervous asking, it was so 'common' for someone to get lost in a palace. You were sure your cheeks were red.

His face was dark, his eyes covered by his demeanor. For some reason he seemed annoyed at you.

"Sir?"

A hand rested on your shoulder from behind. It started you, putting you into a 'fight mode.'

Turning around swiftly calmed your nerves as quickly as they came. It was Zuko.

"Can I help you?" Zuko was talking to the strange man, who was no longer so 'big and bad.'

"No Fire Lord Zuko, my apologies." He barred his head in a bow and left.

You had a small smile on your lips, "Thanks, he was starting to scare me." While you were positive you could have taken the man, you were tired and didn't really feel like fighting.

"Of course, I can show you to your room." He held his arm out, you took it.

The gesture was friendly, you told yourself. Nothing more.

You must have been lost for awhile, as it took a few minutes to get to your room. The small talk exchanged was nice, but something told you Zuko was hiding something.

At your door, he stopped. "Zuko, do you want to come in? You seem restless."

"Actually, I do have something to tell you..." The tone of his voice scared you.

"Oh, then please sit." He joined you on the edge of your end. The door shut behind you two.

You pushed a strand of hair back, nervously sitting. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not really sure how to tell you this... I really am ashamed to have to ask you for a really big favor..." You had seen him on edge a lot, he was quite the stressor. Nothing like this, though.

"Zuko, anything. What do you need me to do?" You questioned.

He looked down at his hands, "You can tell me. I'm in no position to judge you, you know that."

"I uh," He rubbed the back of his neck, "I told Mai that we were dating so she would stop trying to get with me." He spit out so fast you almost missed what he said.

"Oh."

Well that's not what you thought he would say...

"That's not the worst part." He lowered his face to his hands, "The ball in four days, well I told her you were going with me... She's got Ty Lee lining up suitors for her. Trying to make me mad. Also she uh, she's probably told everyone now..."

"Oh." You were at a loss for words.

"I... I don't know... I'm sorry. This is stupid, at the ball I'll tell everyone what happened. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen! It just slipped out an-"

"Zuko."

"Yes?"

"What if you don't have to tell everyone?"

You hadn't looked at him since he started talking. Honestly, a night with Zuko at a ball? It sounded like a dream. Zuko was handsome, kind, generous, and you'd had a crush on him for months. You knew he wouldn't ever really date you... So you might as well seize the opportunity, right? What could go wrong!

The two of you decided it would be wise to not tell anyone else it was fake, as Sokka, Toph, and Aang had big mouths. They'd slip up sooner or later. As for Katara, she wouldn't have kept that big of a secret from Aang.

So, for the next few days you and Zuko spent every second together. At first, it was coming up with plans for the ball. It turned into getting more physically comfortable with each other. That eventually escalated to spilling each other's deepest secrets, ya know... just in case...

Even in four days, you found yourself going from a crush to madly in love. You found out his quirks, what made him tick, his hidden likes and dislikes. Not a second was spent apart.

The afternoon before the ball you were stressed. It had been easy up until the ball. You just had to be yourself around Zuko, now you had to pretend in front of hundreds...

Katara helped you pick out a beautiful red and black dress. To match Zuko's of course.

A big scene was planned out between the two of you, Zuko would introduce you to everyone in an announcement and you'd walk don't the grand starts arm in arm with him.

It was fun to imagine and talk about, but now the 'what ifs' were running wild.

You somehow made your way to Zuko's room, knocking hesitantly. He begrudgingly opened, but became excited when he saw you.

"Zuko, I'm terrified." He quickly guided you into his room.

"What happened?"

"What if I fall? What if no one likes me? It's a lot of steps it-" He cut you off.

"Hey, it's okay... We can throw everything out the window. Just saw the words."

You swallowed thick. "No, no just... Just promise you'll be there? For me?"

Your name was a whisper on his lips, "Ill always be here for you... Just imagines its only us up there... Just normal day."

You nodded, more relaxed knowing he'd be by your side through I tall. It also gave you a wicked feeling of comfort to know he was still willing to do whatever you preferred. He would have ended the lie immediately if you asked, but you wanted to be there for him as well. To make sure Mai would leave him alone.

The Palace was bustling with people, waiters, food, activities, and entertainment. It all came to an abrupt stop when Lord Zuko appeared.

It was comical, trumpets blared and all head turned.

"Fire Lord Zuko, accompanied by-" Your name seemed unreal on his lips. To be announced with a Fire Lord? You felt you didn't deserve it.

You slowly walked into view of everyone, whispers erupting. To be 'accompanied by' was essentially dating for Lords and Ladys.

All eyes were on you as you took Zuko's arm, walking down the steps. You felt light, your grip tightening on Zukos.

"Almost there, I'm right here." His words were all the comfort you needed.

Music resumed and the party goers continued their fun.

That was expect for one person. Mai. She marched up to you, her questioning eyes on guard. Watching her march over sparked a fury in you, the fire started and didn't stop until you spoke.

"Hello Mai. How can I help you? Is your father well, since he lost his job as Governor and all..." You passively aggressively asked, a mock frown on your face.

"What would you know about Governor dad's and all? You grew up poor." Damn, she got you there.

"I guess the difference in poor and rich is personality. Cause you don't have one..." You shrugged your shoulders at her, biting back a laugh.

"At least Zuko loved me for who I am, not who I was pretending to be." She remarked, not really knowing why Zuko loved her or you.

"Damn Mai, you must know a lot about pretending. Seeing as you're a two faced bitch. Should I go and tell Ty Lee you called her an 'easy bed'." A gasp left her lips in shock, how did you know she said that? Well, you wouldn't tell her, but a gossiping Fire Sage spilled the beans.

Zuko, who had been temporarily called away to exchange pleasantries with a Navy Captain, had returned.

"Mai, I see you've met my girlfriend." He said, snaking a hand around your waist. Chills were sent up your spine.

She gave a scoff, "It'll never last. You're only in it because he's the Fire Lord." She pointed to you, then him, "And you, you just seemed to pick up the next girl you saw laying around. Talk about a downgrade. When you get tired of her, i'll be waiting." She walked away.

"What is her problem!" You exclaimed, face hot with anger.

"Jealousy, I think." He said.

You turned to face him completely. "What for, she doesn't even seem to like you anymore?"

"Maybe cause you're prettier than her?" He said, not realizing his own words.

Your cheeks were now flushed for a different reason. You swiped your lips with your tongue before speaking, "Thank you..."

Hours of dancing, partying, and eating went by. Everyone bought the act easily, you and Zuko were naturals at dating. The fun died down, and many were starting to go back home.

Zuko walked you back to your room, hand in hand.

"Thank you. I really cannot thank you enough, just ask. Whatever you want is yours." Zuko said, still grasping your hands at your bedroom door.

"I don't need anything. This was really fun actually, I know you were just pretending... but i've had the best time the past five days."

"Pretend?" His face screwed up, like he was in denial.

You blinked a few times, own lip curling. "Well, I mean... You made it pretty clear this was all just an act. I-I am not hurt." You were, but wouldn't let him know.

"Words cannot express how genuine these days have been... Oh gosh, I haven't felt this free since I was a child." He pressed on, serious.

"Y-you mean, none of this has been fake to you?"

"Well, I know you signed up for 'fake'." He looked over you, face uncertain.

With a step forward you spoke, "This hasn't been fake for me either..."

"Really?" He pressed his chest to your slightly, hand wavering around your waist. "Because I don't think I could live if you're lying right now."

"Will this answer your questions?" You leaned up, closing the gap and kissing him.

A/N-Thank you for reading, I haven't fully watched ATLA In a little bit sorry if Zuko is OOC!! When it's not midnight and I'm not super tired, I will edit any mistakes!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU pt 2

Kara blinks, suddenly dumbstruck. Esme's t-shirt didn't do the woman justice. Her eyes catch briefly on a sharp jawline before being captivated by warm green eyes.

"Uhm, sorry, I-- I didn't mean..." Kara struggles with her words in a way she hasn't in years. "Are you--?"

"Yup," Lena confirms with a drawl, but her smile doesn't leave her lips. "Do I need to call security?"

"What? No! No, of course not, I didn't mean to barge-- I swear I wasn't looking for you."

Lena accepts the blithering answer at face value. "Good. It would be to have you thrown out before the show."

Sure enough, underneath her gray zip up hoodie Kara spies a flash of a silver bedazzled dress.

"I mean. For the record, you should." As soon as she says it, Kara picks up steam, suddenly angry on the artist's behalf. "I shouldn't have been able to get anywhere close to you---"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "You don't look the type to be looking for an autograph."

Kara huffs, but finds a small smile creeping over her face. "No," she confirms. "I got lost."

One of Lena's eyebrows lifts.

"Well, first I got locked in the stairwell. Which is against code, by the way. And *then* I got lost."

Lena smirks, picking up her phone and typing out a short message. "Security," she explains.

"Oh."

"They'll be able to help you find your way better than I can."

Relief floods Kara, and then a thrill of excitement when Lena's smile broadens to a grin.

"You here with someone?"

Kara nods. "My goddaughter, Esme. She, uh.... she loves you. Rather a lot, actually."

"Tell her hi for me."

"I will-- oh! Shit, you've got a signal down here!" Kara fumbles her phone and her ticket, and in her rush to fire off a note to Esme promising to be there soon, doesn't notice when the ticket slips from her palm.

"Sorry," Kara rambles. "Damn. She's probably eaten all the nachos by now."

At that, Lena laughs, just as a hulking figure appears in the doorway behind Kara. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Hi Ryan," Lena greets, voice still full of mirth. "Miss, uh..."

"Danvers. Kara Danvers," Kara blurts.

"Miss Kara Danvers here got a little turned around. Would you mind showing her to where she needs to go?"

"Of course, ma'am."

Lena nods approvingly. When her gaze returns to Kara, Kara can't help but notice the brief glance that flicks over her, and the consequent blush that blooms in the younger woman's cheeks.

"I've got fifteen until places," Lena tells her. Her voice is smooth and low, velvet in the cinderblock room. "I'm sorry we can't chat more, but I'm sure Esme is worried about you."

Kara nods, swallowing. "Right. Um... thank you."

"My pleasure." Lena's crinkle at the corners. "Lovely to meet you."

"You too," Kara issues, turning to follow Ryan out the door and into the hall. It's not until the door shuts behind them that Kara realizes how hard her heart is thumping, or the tremble in her fingers.

"Jesus," she mutters, giving her hand a shake.

"Which level, Miss Danvers?"

"Second mezzanine, restrooms near the food vendors."

Ryan escorts her until Kara spots Esme, at which point he departs with her thanks. Esme dashes towards her, eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Kara promises, giving her a hug. "Just got turned around. Sorry for taking so long."

"Come on!" Esme urges, already moving on from the subject. "We've got to get to our seats!"

Kara trails closely behind her goddaughter as they move towards the stands, but her thoughts remain with the raven haired woman two flights below.

Maybe tonight would be special after all.

[writerswall26]

My Sweet Cairo (Part 1)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, other than that, none that I know of (but feel free to correct me)

Words: 3.1k

Masterlist | Next Part

A/N: This is the first time I'm posting here, I hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading

Final year of high school was somewhat a bliss for a student athlete like Y/N. Everything should be perfect from then on. Grades, soccer games, even soccer practice needs to be perfect. If she wants to go to her dream university in California, she needs to do everything by the book. Be a model student, win games as a Captain of the soccer team, be everything. Being strained in a small town in Tennessee after moving a couple years ago, she did not expect to be where she is in life right now. It's too early to tell but she knows what she wants and she will get there however means necessary.

She was not rich by all means but their family got by. Her mom inherited a huge house in Tennessee from her father, then an incident happened and next thing she knows, she's flying from Australia to a place she's never heard of.

"Great job, guys! That's all for today, now go wash up and go to your class." Coach Boris Fillmore dismissed them.

Y/N was the first to the locker rooms. She has literature with Mr. Miller and she's somewhat excited when it comes to that class so she did not want to be late. Unfortunately for her, she's a few minutes late.

"Good Morning, Mr. Miller. I'm sorry I'm late." She said, panting while she sat beside her classmate Winnie Black, a girl from last semester.

Their teacher, Jonathan Miller turned to her with a smile.

"I was just starting, Ms. Y/L/N." He said, and he started the class.

"You smell nice." Y/N heard Winnie whisper beside her. This girl has always been a flirt, especially with their coach.

She turned to Winnie with a smile before flicking a paper in her face. "Stop hitting on me, you creep." She joked, hearing the girl giggle before their attention went to the front to focus on whatever Mr. Miller was teaching them.

"That's all for today's class, I expect your reviews on my desk first thing in the morning before our next class." Mr. Miller dismissed them, clapping his hands together to remove the remnants of the chalk that were stuck in them.

After Y/N finished putting her things inside her bag, she stood up and went to the front to speak with their teacher.

"Hey, Mr. Miller?" Y/N called out, making their teacher turn to her with a smile, he was always smiling.

"Yeah?"

"Here's an excuse letter for all the soccer team. Game's on the night before passing. I can pass the assignment earlier." Y/N said, handing out a paper to Mr. Miller who scanned it.

The older teacher nodded as he raised his head to look at her. "I'll be here. You can pass it before or after you win us that game. Good luck."

"Thanks, Mr. Miller. Have a great day." Y/N said before she started to walk back when she bumped into someone, making their things fall to the ground.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry." She apologized but immediately stopped when she saw who she bumped into.

Short girl, tanned skin, freckles on her face, brunette hair, and her captivating brown eyes. Cairo Sweet.

"I'm sorry." Y/N said once again before she stooped down to grab all the books down the floor.

She heard a small giggle before Cairo stooped down to help her pick up the books that fell. "Better watch where you're going next time, superstar." Cairo said, smiling as Y/N handed her the books.

Y/N couldn't help but smile. She's had the biggest crush on Cairo since she's first seen the girl walking to school. Their houses are just a few blocks away. Since then, she would always ride her bike to school, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cairo before she got to practice. And without fail, she would pass by Cairo on the road and that would make her entire day.

"We have a game on saturday night. Do you think you could come and watch?" Y/N asked, getting all shy.

Cairo smiled. "I'll check in on my schedule."

Y/N nodded before she walked back, still smiling as she stared at the brunette girl and ended up bumping into someone again. Y/N immediately apologized before turning to Cairo who was already giggling.

"See you saturday night, Cairo." She reminded before she ran off to save herself from further humiliation.

"You're all smiles and shit." Jasmine, a friend from her soccer team said as she sat down in their physics class, taught by their coach Mr. Fillmore.

"I finally talked to her." She informed her friend, her smile not leaving her face.

"With who?"

"Cairo Sweet."

Jasmine howlered before slapping her hard on the arm which made her groan as she rubbed the soar place. "You finally did it!"

"I finally did, huh?" She said, grinning like a crazy love sick girl.

"Y/L/N, Smith, eyes up front!" Coach Fillmore called which made them straighten themselves up, but their knowing looks were there.

Before saturday, Y/N is back in Mr. Miller's classroom to pass her essay. She wanted to be a good student and not take advantage of being a star athlete. Her father always told her to focus more on being a student than being an athlete and she kept that in mind until now.

"You're early." Mr. Miller greeted her as soon as she stepped inside his classroom.

"Good morning, sir. I'm gonna pass my essay since Coach would excuse us the entire day for training. It's semis and it's a huge deal." She said, handing the teacher her polished essay.

Mr. Miller nodded. "Make sure you win us that championship or I'd fail you and tell Coach Boris to do the same in your physics class."

She chuckled. "No, you won't."

"Yes, I will."

"No, you will not."

"Yes, I will."

"Nah, you don't have the balls to do it, sir." She jokes which got her a howler from the incoming Coach, with coffee and biscuits in hands, and a laugh from their literature teacher.

"Training starts in ten, what are you doing here Y/L/N?" Coach Fillmore asked, handing Mr. Miller his coffee and laying down a biscuit on the front table.

"Mr. Miller here is threatening to fail me if we lose the championship, he's dragging your ass out to do so."

Coach Fillmore gave his friend a look before laughing. "That's not gonna happen."

"That's what I'm saying. Because I'm gonna make sure we win that championship and wave that cup in Mr. Miller's face together with my MVP cup." She said confidently and jokingly, making the two older men laugh.

"You're a cocky one, get your ass out here." Coach Fillmore said to which Y/N nodded. "And get a biscuit on the way out, you're gonna need that."

Y/N did get a biscuit and smiled at her two favourite teachers. "Later, Mr. Miller. Be ready to be humiliated when we get that championship."

"She's still not done?" She heard Coach Fillmore say.

"I'll be waiting here in my classroom." Mr. Miller followed.

By Saturday night, Y/N's nerves are on the roof. Their opponent is one of the strongest in the high school league and they're legacy. They've won 4 back to back championships and they were hard on Y/N since she came.

"I'm gonna go get some air before we start." Y/N told Jasmine who nodded.

While she was out praying and pacing, she felt a small tap on her shoulder. And what greeted her made her forget the nerves, only her smile and the presence of the person mattered from here on.

"You came... and you dragged Winnie with yah." Y/N said, glancing at Winne who had a teasing smile as she waved her fingers.

"Actually, Winne dragged me here with her, I did not intend to come."

"Why are you here?" Y/N asked Winnie who rolled her eyes.

"She wanted to watch Coach Fillmore in action." Cairo was the one who answered.

Y/N turned to Cairo with furrowed brows. "Coach Fillmore's not playing."

"But he will be out there frustrated and hot." Winnie finally spoke, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"Lay off him, will you? He's happy, contented."

"He hasn't had me yet." Winnie said with a flirtatious grin, her brows wriggling.

"That's disgusting. How about I hook you up with some of my jock friends? That's more appropriate."

"Mm-mm." She heard Cairo, making her turn to the brunette. "She doesn't like smelly cocky jocks."

"They're all rough and sweaty. I want something delicate and gentle."

Y/N made a face of disgust. "That's incredibly disturbing. And you're public enemy number 1 for me."

Winnie snorted. "You're just saying that because you don't want Cairo to have the same thinking as me."

Y/N kept quiet about that statement. But Winnie just laughed. "Oh boohoo, everyone in this school knows you're whipped for Cairo. Since sophomore years."

"Hence the reason you're public enemy number 1." Y/N said, not caring if Cairo's staring at her with this new found information. The shyness and shame is far out of her body at this point.

"Whatever you say, superstar. Go back in there, I can see my man looking for you." Winnie said, staring at a distance.

Sure enough, Coach Fillmore is out there seemingly looking for her.

"I gotta go. You two look for seats. Thanks for coming, Cairo." Y/N finally said, starting to jog back to the dugout.

"You're whipped!" She heard Winnie shout.

"And you're on my hit list!" She shouted with a smile.

"Good luck!" She heard Cairo saying which made her giddy inside.

"Where the hell have you been?" Coach Fillmore said as soon as she got to him. "Get your ass inside."

The two of them walked back to the dugout for a motivational speech from the coach. When Coach Fillmore was done, she got her stage.

"One thing, I got a girl I really really want to impress seated in one of those stands. And if we lose, I will make you all regret it." She threatened, which got her a whistling and howling from her teammates.

"That's not our problem, Cap." One of her mates said, chuckling.

"Oh, but it will be. If we lose this game, you're gonna get it from me." Coach Fillmore said, making everyone groan. "Now, get your ass out there and get us that win."

"How come you have coach on your side?!" Jasmine whined as they got out to start their game.

Y/N just shrugged as they focused. The announcer called both teams to the field and even without going out, they could hear the loud cheering and stumping. They all lined up side by side with the opponent team to have the anthem before the game started.

The first 30 minutes was a play of getting the ball and staying on the field for sheer amusement. It was boring for most people but for some, they can feel the heat starting to as the halftime comes.

"Y/N!" Jasmine shouted and passed the ball towards her. It's a free goal, she got the ball, ran her ass out and kicked it for the goal.

"And that's the first goal of the night from the Ravens' team captain Y/N Y/L/N!" The commentator shouted as the stands erupt in cheers.

She slid her way and did her celebratory dance with her teams, the cheering getting louder.

"Come on, come on!" They heard Coach Fillmore shouting as well.

The rest of the first half was them defending their post until halftime.

"That's was a great job, guys!" Coach told everyone as they cheered on the locker room for their ten minute halftime.

"They're seething. I saw them glaring at us before we went back." Y/N told their coach who nodded.

"That is why you're gonna be subbed out." He said.

There was a series of complaints but the Coach blew his whistle and they all shut up.

"Coach, you can't let her sit this second half down, they're gonna chew our asses out! We barely managed to defend them!" Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.

"Do you trust me?" Coach asked them, looking at them one by one.

There was a series of humming and yesses.

"Then you have to let me do what I do best. That is to coach you." He assured them.

"We're gonna get our asses handed to us in the second half." Y/N told their coach who walked to her.

"Do you trust me?" Coach Fillmore asked one more time but Y/N turned her head away from the older man. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

The Captain looked at this coach, reading him. Then she nodded. "Yes, sir." Her Aussie accent coming out.

Coach Fillmore nodded as he tapped her shoulder. "Now, this is going to be the longest 40 minutes of your lives. They're gonna play whatever play they can to win and get back that point. And I want you all to give it your best shot to defend that goal post and that point you all so painfully got."

They did their team hands before they went back to the fields where Y/N sat her pretty ass down, or not. She was standing beside Coach Fillmore, watching her teammates struggle to defend the ball.

"And that is a goal for the Sharks! Great play from their team captain Trish Hudson!" The announcer exclaimed which Y/N groaned in annoyance. It was an easy goal.

The team was right, they did get their ass handed to them not less than 20 minutes in the game. Y/N was pleading to their coach but it fell on deaf ears.

"And that's another goal for the Sharks!" The commentator said.

Y/N was about to go all Lucifer on it when she noticed something from the other team's captain.

"She's limping." She said, making Coach Fillmore turn to her.

"What?" He asked curiously.

"Their star scorer, she's limping. Look." She said, nodding at the other team's captain and sure enough, she was celebrating but she was limping on her right leg.

"You're right. Why is that?" Coach asked, turning to her with furrowed brows.

"Someone rough housed her."

"One of our own? Why do you think so?" He was sceptical

"I know so. They're kinda holding out on a thread out there. An accident maybe?" She said, shrugging her shoulders.

"What did I tell yah?" He said, smiling widely at her.

"Call for the time out, then." She said with a smile and he did call for a time out.

"Alright! We're subbing Y/N back in." He informed their team with a smile.

"Finally!" Jasmine cheered as she let her head fall back.

"What made you change your mind, coach?" One of the teammates asked.

"She's limping." Y/N answered.

"What? Who?" Someone asked.

"Hudson, she's limping. Who rough housed her?" Y/N asked, looking at them one by one. "Come on, no one's blaming yah, she's a machine."

"How would we know? They're boxing us out, if we happened to kick their sheen, it would be an accident." Jasmine reasoned.

"Point taken. Now, go get us that win!" Coach said after the time out and in goes Y/N again.

She was defending the other team's captain and when the ball got to her foot, she immediately ran to the post, was about to kick the ball when she felt a sting on her left leg, making her fall. It was a bad slam.

She immediately stood up but it was still stinging from the cleats. The player got a yellow and a free ball was given.

"You got this Y/N/N!" She heard her team shouting as she closed her eyes, focused on the post, AND GOAL!

"What a wonderful hat trick from the Raven's captain Y/N Y/L/N! This seemed like an overtime coming up!" The commentator said as they celebrated.

"Let's go!" She shouted despite the aching on her left sheen but she did not mind that one bit.

Then the game continued, with 3 minutes remaining on the clock and everyone was doing their hardest to keep the ball alive, no one scoring and the defence was tight.

It was in the Ravens' possession and they were trying hard to get to the post but they were being boxed out. So when Y/N found a hole, she got the ball from her teammate and ran it like there's no tomorrow. She was being chased by 2 players but she mind nothing. The next thing she knows, her left leg was being slammed on, her face was bleeding and the ball was in Jasmine's possession...

"And goal! Right before the clock! The Ravens' take the win for the semi finals! What a goal from Jasmine Smith!" The stands erupted as everyone cheered.

Cairo has been holding her breath since the last five minutes, she's seen how the other team was playing dirty and they're aiming at Y/N. Her heart almost stopped when Y/N fell to the ground right before Jasmine scored. Even with the loud cheering and all, her eyes never left Y/N who pushed herself up and limped to her teammates, her face bleeding.

"That seemed like a bad cut." Winnie said worriedly, but Cairo still never left her gaze on Y/N who got body slammed by her teammates.

When everything was calmed, Cairo pulled Winnie with her to the lockers to check on Y/N and sure enough, she was just done getting patched up.

"That looked like a bad fall." Cairo said, walking towards Y/N who had an ice bag on her left leg and a few butterfly band aid on her right eyebrow.

Y/N's face immediately lit up as soon as she saw Cairo standing in front of her.

"Hey. Did you like the game?" She asked, fixing herself.

"It was boring." Cairo answered with a shrug.

"She was holding her breath the entire time you were out on the field." Winnie chimed in, making Cairo glare at her.

"You were?" Y/N asked, her smile widened at the thought.

"Don't be all cocky, now." Cairo rolled her eyes.

Winnie let out a playful gagging sound before she walked out. "I'll leave you two lovebirds in here while I go find Coach Boris."

"Lay off him!" Y/N shouted again but it fell on deaf ears.

Y/N shook her head before she turned to Cairo who was watching her with a small smile.

"So this is what you do huh?" Cairo said, walking towards her until she was in front of Y/N who was looking up. Despite her sitting down, she's still almost as tall as Cairo. What an adorable sight.

"Since I could remember, yeah."

With hesitation, Cairo held a hand on Y/N's cut, caressing it gently. The taller girl leaned in to the touch, her body relaxing despite her heart pounding in her chest, she thought it was gonna jump out of her body any time soon.

"Is it bad?" Cairo asked softly, making her open her eyes to look at the lovely brown eyes staring at her.

"Nothing I can take." She whispered.

Cairo smiled sweetly before she let her hand fall on her side as she stepped back. Y/N was disappointed and aching to bring that warmth back but she stayed quiet.

"Congratulations on the win. You did great out there." Cairo said with a smile, her cute dimples showing leaned down to give her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Y/N watched as the brunette turned around and started walking. "Will you be watching the finals? I could use a little energizer."

Cairo turned her head to her with a smile. "I'll think about it." She said and she was out the door in a blink of an eye.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Cairo Sweet."

[dreamersworldduh]

Omg hiii, firstly, I really like your two workss so far they're soooo good 😩. Hopefully, you continue writing, and secondly, I want to request for Dick grayson at one of those parties he has to attend with his friend that he liked for a while, and he sees reader getting hit on by a person he hates so he gets jealous, and he holds it for awhile till he couldn't anymore. If you can complete this, thank you for your time spent on my request. If not, it's completely fine. 🙏. Thank you for even reading my request. Keep up the good work, and have a good day/night!

JEALOUSLY, JEALOUSY

• Dick Grayson x Male!Reader

SUMMARY — Jealousy is an evil disease that most people deny having, but it can also be a great motivator if used properly.

WARNING! FLUFF. Suggestive Langauge.

WORDS! 3.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! Thank you so much for putting in your request! I appreciate you so so much—I hope you enjoy! 😚

The Titans' Tower was a beacon of light against the night sky, its glowing windows revealing the lively scene unfolding within. Inside, the air was charged with excitement, the kind of energy that came from heroes finally allowing themselves a moment of reprieve. The main hall was transformed into a party space, with colorful lights casting vibrant patterns across the walls, the music pulsing in time with the rhythm of the crowd.

You stood near the entrance for a moment, taking it all in. The sight was almost surreal—heroes you'd fought alongside, legends in their own right, were here in their most unguarded states. Starfire's radiant laughter rang out as she teased Beast Boy, who had just shapeshifted into a parrot to mimic her voice. Raven, ever the observer, sat in a corner nursing a drink, her normally stern expression softening as she watched the festivities. Even Cyborg, the tech genius of the team, was manning a makeshift DJ booth, nodding his head to the beat as he expertly transitioned between tracks.

You weren't used to seeing this side of them, but it was a welcome change. The Titans weren't just warriors—they were people, and tonight, they were letting themselves be exactly that.

When Dick Grayson—Nightwing himself—had invited you, you were a little surprised. Sure, the two of you had been close for a while, colleagues who had become genuine friends through countless missions. You'd spent hours fighting side by side, but more recently, you'd found yourselves sharing moments outside the chaos—grabbing coffee after a long night, cracking jokes about patrol mishaps, or just enjoying each other's company. Yet, an invitation to the Titans' private party felt personal, almost intimate.

As you stepped further into the room, the music grew louder, the bass vibrating through your chest. Dick wasn't hard to spot—he had that presence that naturally drew attention, even when he wasn't trying. Dressed in a simple black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, he moved through the crowd with an ease that was almost magnetic. His sharp blue eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a grin spread across his face.

"There you are," he said as he approached, his voice warm and familiar despite the music. "I was starting to think you weren't going to show."

"Miss a party at Titans' Tower? No way," you replied with a smirk. "Besides, you're the one who said I needed a break."

"And I was right," he said, nudging your arm playfully. "You deserve a night to relax. Just... don't let Beast Boy drag you into one of his dance-offs. He's surprisingly competitive."

You chuckled, already feeling more at ease. Dick had that effect on people—his presence was grounding, even in a room full of larger-than-life personalities. Before he could say more, someone called his name, and he gave you an apologetic smile.

"Duty calls," he said. "But stick around, okay? I'll find you later."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to explore the party. You grabbed a drink from the refreshment table—something fruity but deceptively strong—and started making your way through the room. Everywhere you turned, there were little snapshots of joy: heroes laughing, friends reconnecting, moments of normalcy in lives that were anything but.

It was in the middle of this whirlwind of activity that you found yourself drawn into conversation with Brandon, one of the Titans' newer members. His easygoing demeanor made him instantly likable, and you found yourself relaxing even more as you chatted about everything from patrol stories to how strange it was to see the team like this.

What you didn't notice, however, was the way Dick's gaze followed you from across the room. Standing near the edge of the crowd, he watched as you laughed at something Brandon said, the two of you leaning in closer to hear each other over the music. His smile from earlier had faded, replaced by a subtle but unmistakable tension in his expression.

For the first time in a long while, Dick Grayson felt something unfamiliar twist in his chest—jealousy.

Brandon was mid-story, his hands flying through the air as he described a mission that had apparently gone off the rails in the most chaotic way possible. His voice was animated, carrying over the music and noise of the party as he recounted the moment he had to leap from a collapsing rooftop to grab a fleeing criminal.

"And just as I'm mid-air," he said, his grin wide, "I'm thinking, 'If I miss, this is how they're going to write me off the team.' But somehow, I managed to grab the guy's ankle, and the two of us went tumbling into a dumpster. Starfire still hasn't let me live it down."

You couldn't help but laugh, the image of Brandon sprawled out in a dumpster vivid in your mind. His enthusiasm was contagious, and his self-deprecating humor made the story all the more enjoyable.

"What about you?" Brandon asked, leaning casually against the counter. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What's the craziest thing you've seen out there?"

You paused, your mind flipping through the mental catalogue of wild missions you'd been on. Finally, a grin tugged at your lips as you landed on one that stood out. "Okay, so there was this time I ended up dodging missiles while trying to stop a rogue drone. It was absolute chaos—explosions everywhere, smoke, the whole nine yards. And, of course, Dick was there, just doing his thing, making it all look effortless."

Brandon let out a low whistle, his eyebrows raising in mock disbelief. "Missiles and a rogue drone? That's next level. I swear, with him involved, it always sounds like a movie."

You chuckled, nodding. "It felt like one. But yeah, Dick's like that—calm under pressure, always two steps ahead. It's kind of ridiculous how good he is at this stuff."

Brandon grinned, leaning in slightly. "Must be cool, working so closely with someone like him. I bet you've picked up a thing or two."

You shrugged, a warm smile spreading across your face. "Yeah, it is. He's a good guy—one of the best. I've learned more from him than I ever thought possible."

As you spoke, you glanced over at Brandon, but your words brought Dick to the forefront of your mind. It wasn't just his skill you admired—it was his unwavering dedication, his ability to lead, and the way he always seemed to have your back no matter how dangerous things got. It was easy to talk about him, easy to share the respect and appreciation you'd built for him over the years.

Brandon nodded, clearly impressed. "I get that vibe. You two must make a hell of a team."

You smiled, raising your glass slightly. "We do."

Across the room, Dick leaned against the wall, his silhouette partially obscured by the shifting colored lights of the party. His sharp brown eyes, usually calm and calculating, were locked onto the two of you, his gaze unwavering. In one hand, he held a drink—something dark and untouched, the condensation dripping down the glass as it warmed against his grip. His free hand clenched at his side, the slight twitch of his fingers betraying the tension he was working hard to suppress.

You were laughing at something Brandon had said, your face lit up in a way that seemed to magnify the ease between the two of you. Brandon leaned closer, his posture open and relaxed, his confident smile suggesting he was thoroughly enjoying your attention. You leaned in as well, your head tilting slightly to catch his words over the pounding music, your body language unconsciously mirroring his. It was a small detail, but it didn't escape Dick's notice.

A knot twisted in his chest, sharp and unwelcome. He couldn't pinpoint the moment it had started—this feeling that clawed at him every time Brandon was near you—but tonight, it was undeniable. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, but his eyes betrayed him, darting back to you within seconds. He told himself it was nothing, that he was overreacting, but the rational part of his brain was no match for the jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

Dick had never liked Brandon, though he'd never said it aloud, not even to himself. He'd brushed it off as a clash of personalities, an instinctive distrust of the newcomer. But as he watched Brandon lean closer, his laugh carrying easily over the music, it became clear: it wasn't just Brandon. It was Brandon with you.

His usual composed demeanor was faltering, the effortless confidence he carried on and off the field slipping away as his emotions bubbled to the surface. His chest felt tight, his thoughts an uncharacteristic jumble. Was it jealousy? Frustration? The fear of something unspoken slipping out of his grasp?

The answer didn't matter, not in that moment. All that mattered was the impulse driving him forward. Before he realized it, his body was already in motion, his steps purposeful and direct. Each stride carried the weight of his emotions, the tension in his shoulders palpable. He weaved through the crowd without so much as a glance at anyone else, his focus entirely on you.

Dick didn't have a plan, no rehearsed words or carefully crafted excuses. All he knew was that he couldn't stand there any longer, watching you laugh with someone else, seeing the effortless connection that wasn't with him. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say when he reached you—all he knew was that he had to do something. Anything.

The music and laughter of the party hummed around you, a lively backdrop to your conversation with Brandon. You were mid-sentence, describing one of your wilder missions, when a familiar voice cut through the noise like a blade.

"Hey," Dick said, his tone even, but carrying an unmistakable edge.

You turned, surprised to see him standing there. He was close—closer than usual—his sharp brown eyes flicking briefly to Brandon before settling on you. His presence seemed to suck the air out of the space, a silent tension rolling off him in waves.

"Mind if I borrow him for a second?" Dick continued, though it wasn't really a question.

Brandon blinked, clearly caught off guard. His usual easy grin faltered for a moment as he looked between you and Dick, before offering a hesitant nod. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Go ahead."

"Dick, what—?" you began, but before you could finish, Dick placed a firm hand on your shoulder and started steering you away. His grip wasn't rough, but it was unyielding, his fingers curling just enough to make it clear this wasn't up for discussion.

You glanced back at Brandon, who shrugged and turned to mingle with someone else, his confusion evident. Meanwhile, Dick's hand remained on your shoulder, guiding you through the crowd and toward the staircase.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and growing irritation.

Dick didn't answer. He stayed silent, his jaw tight, his pace quick. His grip on your shoulder tightened slightly as you reached the stairs, and he led you upward, away from the noise and light of the party. The music and chatter faded with each step, replaced by the steady hum of the tower's systems.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, his normally composed demeanor slipping with every second. It wasn't like him to act this way—so abrupt, so on edge.

When you reached a quiet hallway, you finally pulled free of his grip, stopping in your tracks. "Dick, what the hell?" you snapped, your confusion now mingled with frustration. "What's going on with you tonight?"

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. His shoulders were rigid, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he were struggling to find the right words. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off, make some excuse and leave you wondering.

But then his expression softened—just slightly—and he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. His piercing gaze searched yours, as though he were looking for something, some unspoken reassurance.

"I couldn't take it anymore," he muttered, his voice low and raw, almost like he was speaking to himself.

You frowned, still not understanding. "Take what? Dick, you're not making any sense."

For a second, he hesitated, his breath hitching as if he was caught between moving forward or retreating. Then, as though something inside him snapped, he closed the distance between you in one fluid motion.

His hands came up, gripping your face with a kind of desperate urgency. Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours. It wasn't tentative or uncertain—it was firm, almost overwhelming, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt.

You froze, your mind racing to catch up with what was happening. The feel of his lips against yours, the heat of his hands holding you in place—it all hit you at once, a wave of intensity that left you breathless. There was a weight behind it, a frustration, a longing that spoke of something he'd been holding back for far too long.

The hallway seemed to shrink around you, the hum of the tower fading into nothing. All that remained was him, the kiss, and the unspoken emotions that seemed to pour out in that single moment.

When Dick finally pulled back, his forehead gently rested against yours, his breath ragged and uneven. The heat of his hands lingered on your face, his thumbs barely brushing your jawline as if he couldn't bring himself to let go entirely. His eyes were closed for a moment, and when he opened them, they burned with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

"I couldn't stand seeing you with him," he admitted, his voice low, raw, and unsteady in a way you'd never heard before. It wasn't anger or frustration—it was something deeper, something vulnerable. "I've been trying to ignore it for so long, but I can't anymore. I like you—more than a friend. I needed you to know."

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged, as if the world itself had paused for this one moment. Your heart was pounding, each beat louder in your ears than the faint hum of the tower around you. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath your feet, your balance precarious in the wake of his confession.

You stared at him, trying to process what had just happened—the kiss, the weight of his words, the raw emotion in his eyes. All the nights you'd spent together came flooding back to you. Fighting side by side in the field, your movements always in sync. Late nights eating takeout, his laughter echoing in your ears as you shared stories. Quiet moments after missions, when he'd patch you up with a care and focus that seemed almost too much for a friend. All of it suddenly took on a new meaning, the threads weaving together into something you hadn't allowed yourself to see before now.

"Dick..." you began, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, your chest tight with the weight of everything you wanted to say. But before you could get the words out, he shook his head, his forehead still pressed against yours.

"I get it if you don't feel the same," he said quickly, his voice filled with quiet resignation. His hands dropped slowly from your face, as if letting go was physically painful. "I just... I couldn't keep it in anymore. Not after tonight. Not after seeing—" He cut himself off, shaking his head again, as if the thought alone was too much. "You don't have to say anything. I just needed you to know."

You stared at him, the man who had been by your side through thick and thin, who had earned your trust in ways few ever had. And for the first time, you saw something behind the confidence and control he always carried—a vulnerability, raw and unguarded. The man who was always so composed, so unshakable, was standing in front of you now, his emotions laid bare.

He wasn't Nightwing in this moment, the hero who always had a plan and a backup plan. He was just Dick—a man who had taken a risk, who had laid his heart on the line for you. And in that moment, as you saw him so clearly for the first time, something inside you shifted.

You stood frozen, your thoughts spiraling as Dick's words echoed in your mind. Your longest, closest friend—someone who had been by your side through countless battles, sleepless nights, and quiet moments—had just confessed feelings you had never seen coming. It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsure of how to regain your footing.

Your breathing was shallow, your chest tight as you replayed his confession in your mind. "I couldn't stand seeing you with him. I've been trying to ignore it for so long, but I can't anymore." The rawness in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes—it was all so unlike the Dick Grayson you knew, the man who always seemed so steady, so composed.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. How could they? This was Dick—your partner in the field, your confidant, your constant. The person who had always been there, who had stitched you up after injuries and made you laugh when things felt too heavy. And now he was looking at you, his heart laid bare, waiting for a response you weren't sure how to give.

Your mind raced through the years you'd known him. The late-night missions, the quiet moments after a battle, the inside jokes only the two of you understood. You'd always thought of him as your rock, the person you could count on no matter what. And now, he was telling you that he saw you as something more—had seen you as something more for a long time.

The weight of his confession pressed down on you. This wasn't just a casual admission—it was the culmination of something deep, something that had clearly been building within him for years. The thought hit you like a freight train: while you'd been leaning on him as a friend, he'd been feeling this all along. How had you missed it?

Dick's expression was impossible to read now. He was standing there, his forehead no longer resting against yours, his hands hovering by his sides like he wasn't sure whether to reach for you or step back. His eyes, normally so guarded, were wide and searching, as if trying to gauge what you were thinking.

But you didn't know what to think. You didn't know how to react. Part of you wanted to speak, to reassure him, to tell him that this didn't change anything—but that would be a lie, wouldn't it? Because everything had already changed.

Before you could fully register what you were doing, instinct took over. Your mind was still spinning from Dick's confession, from the raw vulnerability in his voice, from the way his hands had trembled ever so slightly when he let you go—as if he'd already braced himself for rejection.

But you couldn't let him walk away—not like this. Not when your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from your chest.

In one swift motion, you closed the space between you, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The material was soft but sturdy beneath your grip, grounding you in the moment as you tugged him toward you with a sudden urgency that surprised even yourself.

Dick's eyes widened, his breath hitching, but he barely had a second to react before your lips met his. The kiss was fierce, intense—a collision of bottled-up emotions finally set free. Your fingers clenched tighter in his shirt, pulling him closer as if you were afraid he might vanish if you let go.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away—the distant hum of the tower's systems, the muffled bass of the music still thumping from the party below—it all dissolved into nothingness. There was only him, only the warmth of his mouth against yours, only the heat of his hands finding your waist and holding on like he'd been waiting for this as long as you had.

Dick let out a sharp breath against your lips, a sound caught somewhere between relief and longing. His arms wrapped around you fully now, one hand sliding up your back, the other cupping the side of your face like he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go again.

The kiss deepened, fueled by everything unspoken between you—years of trust, shared danger, late-night talks, and quiet moments when words had never been enough. Every suppressed feeling, every glance that had lingered too long, every touch that had meant more than it should—everything finally broke free.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your foreheads rested together, your fingers still clutching the front of his shirt like a lifeline. Dick's eyes were half-lidded, dark with emotion, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours.

"...Quite the confession, Grayson," you voiced, your voice low and shaky.

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across Dick's face, softening the sharp intensity of his expression. His thumb brushed your cheek gently, almost reverently. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that."

His words sent warmth flooding through your chest, and before you could respond, his lips found yours again—not desperate this time, but sure and steady, like he was memorizing the way you felt in his arms. This time, there was no hesitation, no fear—only certainty.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.2 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: Long awaited and well over due. This is basically chapter 12 but it really connects to 11.1. Nothing to say except enjoy!

“Michael, stop messing with the fuckin’ cuff links!” Alex called over to him from her spot on the couch. “I thought you weren’t nervous??” 

Michael cut his eyes toward his agent before forcing his fingers away from the gold cufflinks near his wrist. That had been his original claim when he arrived at his suite to get ready, proudly boosting that he did not feel nervous at all. And some part of him had believed that was true. But as makeup ended and he got dressed, the nerves started to settle in. Tonight was no longer some distant potential achievement. It was here and now. And his shoulders were starting to feel the weight of that pressure. He tried his best to remain excited and upbeat but there were some ticks he simply couldn’t hide. 

“Ha ha. I’m just… you know, already ready for it to be over. Gotta sit through 100 fuckin’ awards before they get to mine. Just gonna be a long night.” 

“Whatever you say,” she muttered, her face scrunching up at her phone for a minute. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” his antenna going up immediately, anxiety that something had already gone wrong seeping into his confident facade. “Fuck… You think we should’ve gone with the other suit, don’t you??” 

“Nigga… they’re both black tuxes, calm down. No one’s ever looked at you to be the pillar of fashion. You look great, that’s all that matters. Just taking care of some last minute details, boring shit you wouldn’t be interested in.” 

Michael knew not to press any farther as she immediately changed the subject, standing up and starting to walk over to him. He watched as she studied the time on her phone screen for a moment as his stylist’s assistant slid on the tailored jacket for his suite.

“Can someone check on his mom? Jason went to check out the space and it’s ready for photos. We gotta start in 10 though if we want to make it to the carpet.” 

“I’ll go.” 

He was thankful his mom agreed to accompany him on such a momentous occasion, she was the only date he could fathom taking as the woman he wanted was unavailable. 

Raven. 

Some fantasy that she would call or text him good luck drove him to check his phone every 20 minutes or so, praying for anything that signaled that she thought of him as he did her. She tortured his every waking thought, even after agreeing to give her the space she desperately wanted and needed. But his soul did not want space, his soul wanted their better half, the person who made all of this worth something. 

He shook his head for a moment and forced her to the back of his brain, where he knew she would only stay for a short while. No more than 10 minutes would go by before someone or something reminded him of her. But when he thought of her too long, the sparse stitches holding those wounds together tore open and blood flowed earnestly from them. And such emotional agony would not stand on the biggest night of his career. So he forced a smile onto his face and thoughts of a love he would likely never have again behind the barriers around his heart and knocked on the door to his mother’s room. 

However, he was not prepared to find her still clad in the lounging set Raven and he had bought her for Christmas, completely unprepared to attend the biggest night in Hollywood. 

“Ma, what’s wrong? We gotta leave soon. Why aren’t you dressed?” 

“Well I didn’t want to worry you while you were getting ready but I’m just not feeling well. I don’t think I can make it all evening. I’m sorry, baby.” 

Michael’s face fell ever so slightly at the disappointment, though he tried his hardest to hide it. It was not his mother’s fault that she was not feeling well and even he knew the rest of the day would be tiresome and exhausting for even those in good spirits. So he did not want her trying to suffer through on his account. However, he would not pretend that it did not sting, to know that he would not have anyone there to support him, hold his hand. That he would spend tonight… completely alone. 

Her renewed apologies made him fix his face immediately, knowing that she likely already felt badly for canceling on him. He had no interest in making her feel any worse. 

“I really am sorry, baby. But I wasn’t the date you wanted to take anyway,” she chuckled, her eyes filled with sympathy. 

Those makeshift barriers dissolved into nothing stronger than paper at her words. And as flimsy as they originally were, they were all he had to hold onto to get through tonight. 

“Don’t apologize, ma. Really no big deal at all. You should rest. And you know you’re always my favorite date. Besides, your love is the reason I’m here. You’ll always be my #1,” he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. When her eyes, unsurprisingly, filled with tears, Michael chuckled a bit. “Don’t cry on me. Alex will kill me for messin’ up this makeup.”  

She took a tissue and whisked away the pools of tears in her eyes before adjusting his bowtie.

“You know how proud I am of you? How lucky I am to be your mom? I thank God for you, your sister, and your brother every day. And all I’ve ever wanted for each of you is to live out your dreams and be happy. No matter what you do or who you’re with. Just that. Tonight you’re seeing God’s manifestation of your dreams and win or lose, I couldn’t be prouder of you. But even I know, only one person could make you truly happy tonight. That facade might fool the world but not me. I saw how happy she made you, Bakari. How she turned my scared little boy into a brave and vulnerable man without even trying. I may have gotten you here but her love and adoration and the love you have for her will keep you here. Will help you reach dreams I couldn’t even comprehend for you. And that’s a woman I’ll happily step into the #2 spot for any day.”

“Thanks ma… but I don’t think she wants that spot anymore… wants me anymore. Hell, I don’t even know where she is in the world.” The resigned smile on his face and the humorless laugh could not hide the depths of his sadness as he recalled the message he received from David letting him know that Raven boarded a flight to only God knows where. He had failed and even tonight could not take his mind off the 101 ways he failed the love of his life. “I screwed up. Gotta accept the consequences. I wanna be the man you raised and the man she thought she fell in love with. Even if I don’t get to be that for her.” 

“Give it time, Bakari. You know what I always reminded you three. Everything meant for you will come to you or find its way back to you. God never denies what he ordained as yours, sweetheart. Something to remember for more than one reason tonight.”

There was a certain mischievous glint in her eyes that did not match the typical motherly tone in her voice. “More than one reason” stuck out in his brain. 

What the fuck does that even mean? 

“What do you me-?” he started to ask when his mother cut him off. 

“Oh gosh, you know I didn’t even notice the time? You should go, dear. Don’t wanna get in trouble with that Alex, do we?” 

Realizing that it was almost showtime forced his confusion right out of his brain as he forced himself to focus on the moment, his moment. 

“Nah we don’t. She’s terrifyin’,” he admitted. “How about you lay down and rest for a while and Allen can take you home when you feel better? Or you can enjoy the suite for the night? Totally up to you.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll hang out here, let the traffic clear a bit then head to your sister’s. Everyone’s watching there. You look amazing. Can’t wait to see you shine tonight ” 

“Thanks, ma. Aight, I should head down to take pictures. Love you.”  

He squeezed her hand before she turned around and closed the door of her room behind her.  

He walked back to where his team was waiting. The lack of noise and hustle and bustle in the space caught him off guard as he expected to return to the same chaotic space with his team racing around him. However, only Alex stood waiting on him. 

“Where’d everybody go?” 

“Oh I sent them all downstairs. Figured you wouldn’t mind a couple minutes of peace before the longest night of your life.”  

And that was why, of everyone on his team, Alex was one of the few that stood the test of time. She knew him, truly knew him and what he needed. 

“Thanks.” He paused as he studied her. “You good?” 

Alex had been in the wings of every major career moment in Michael’s life and she typically brought an air of assurance and confidence that put Michael at ease. She was a staple calming force that kept his own anxiety in check. However, tonight? Everything about her seemed off, distracted and anxious in a way that made his empath sensors go haywire. She seemed utterly engrossed in her own phone, which was not unlike Alex but typically she cued Michael in, if nothing else. But tonight, she offered him no insight.  

“Yea… just a big night. Want to make sure everything’s perfect,” she muttered. “Come on… Jason says they’re ready for us.” 

Michael did not need to be the smartest person in the room to immediately recognize that she was hiding something from him. He knew he would never get it out of her as she was the world’s most secure vault for secrets. And there was a part of him that did not even want to know for fear that it would scare him into skipping the night altogether. What if she already found out that he lost? If anyone in his orbit was part of some dark Hollywood back channel, Alex would be it. Or something happened to Raven and she did not want him to lose his shit right before the event. Because they both knew he would drop all of this in a heartbeat for her. Foolish? Perhaps but that was how he knew he had found true love, his soul mate. Because nothing in this life was as important as her and he would drop all of it to rush to her side if she asked. But she would never ask, because she did not consider herself worthy of sacrifices, which only served as fuel to spend everyday proving to her that she was.

Why did he even try not to think of her? Somehow, every thought was merely the first step down a path that led right to Raven’s doorstep. 

He trailed slightly behind Alex as she led him to the elevator. However, before she hit the button, she stopped. 

“Oh shoot. I need to stop by my suite. Forgot somethin. It’s just down the hall, it’ll take two minutes. Got a gift for you for your big night. A little good luck charm.” 

“Alex, you know you didn’t need to get me shit.” And he truly meant that. He was just grateful to have Alex in his corner, her presence and commitment to his career was a gift in and of itself. “And send me the bill for your suite. Would’ve just gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it’s all good. It was last minute and I only got it for convenience, really.” She used her key to open the door and held it open so Michael could walk inside. 

However, as she opened the door, her usual resting bitch face (Alex’s words, not his) turned into a bright grin, one that she clearly tried desperately to minimize but couldn’t. And while Michael had expected flowers or a gift basket or even a bottle of his favorite rum, now he wondered if the gift was something far bigger than that. What he did not expect, when he turned the corner into her suite’s sitting area, was to find Raven awkwardly fidgeting with her gown as Jason made last-minute adjustments. 

“Wha…” His words died in his throat as she turned to face him, his stride stumbling backward in shock as he drank her in. 

He could have stood there and stared at her for the rest of the night and it would not have been enough time. Several lifetimes filled with millions of minutes and seconds would hardly scratch the surface of how much time he needed to simply consume her presence, to refill the parts of his soul that had depleted without her. 

Beautiful was a gross understatement for her. She was stunning, a goddess plucked from the heavens and placed among lesser men. Michael did not think he had ever laid eyes on a more radiant human being. But it was not her stunning beauty that caused tears to spring to his eyes. It was the look of renewed hope in hers, the smallest flame reignited after it had been utterly extinguished the last time he laid eyes on her. And fuck, that could’ve ended him right then and there. To see hope and light in her again, to see the Raven he had fallen so deeply for, she was all consuming. 

She had not even said a word yet but the impact of her choice to be there, to show up for him and choose him after everything conveyed a love words would not be sufficient enough to. The silence stretched on as he studied all the things that had made him fall in love. The soft expectant smile painted on her face as she stared at him that only solidified that she was willing and ready to rebuild with him. The anxious way her eyes glanced down at her own dress and her hands fidgeted that told him she was searching for his confirmation that he still wanted her here or that she looked beautiful, that reminded him of her awkwardness and endless humility that made him fall in love with her in the first place. The way her eyes, the most expressive aspect of her, somehow told him everything he needed to know without uttering a word. 

“I-I hope this is ok?” she asked quietly as she broke the silence and expectant tension that blanketed Alex’s suite, snapping Michael out of his speechless trance. “Admittedly, I only gave Alex and Jason like 24 hours notice. So our options were kind of limited b-but they said it would compliment yours a-and likely get me on a best dressed list, which d-doesn’t really matter but could be nice? I dunno though… think I’ve had enough publicity for a lifetime,” she laughed anxiously. “But I don’t know what’s appropriate to wear to the Oscars with the 2023 Best Actor and they do. But I know this probably isn’t what you envisioned when you invited me in January. But don’t blame them. It’s definitely my fault. Lost weight so my measurements weren’t quite right and the time thing. Honestly, give them a raise… well I can’t tell you what to do with your money. But you should…” she glanced over Michael’s shoulder at Alex who was staring at her with a look that simply said, ‘speed the reunion up, sis.’ So Raven cut herself off, her last rambling words falling off. “Consider it…” 

“You… you came?” 

“I heard you needed a date?” 

Michael rarely experienced true speechlessness, the right words rarely eluded him. He usually always knew what to say. His brain was on the verge of explosion with all the things he desperately wanted to say, his deepest proclamations of regret and love sat on his tongue but he just did not know where to start, could not find the place to start.

Meanwhile, Raven had an entire soliloquy of how she was ready to forgive and move forward because she loved him planned out in her mind. But every painstakingly chosen word evaporated from her mind as she looked at him, as she stared at the man her soul had come to recognize as her safest place to be. The one place that did not demand she provide her most perfect words or anything from her at all. It simply demanded, insisted, that she just be.

And now, the words that sprung to her mind were not perfect at all. They were raw, they were broken… they were her vulnerabilities, her fear, her pain, and they were her hope. Her wildest fantasies and her dreams. And she was no longer afraid to express them loudly here. Because he was the one place where she could. 

“You remember when I woke up in the hospital and the first thing I said to you was apologizing for not being the girl you wanted? For not being good enough? A-and you told me not to compare myself to h-her… or anyone else. B-”

“Because you’re one of a kind,” Michael finished simply.

“That was one of the nicest things a man… anyone had said to me in so long,” she admitted, her head bowing slightly. “And I didn’t believe it. I wanted to be loved by you so badly, Michael. B-But I couldn’t believe a man like you would ever think I was enough because I wasn’t enough for anyone. I wasn’t right for anyone. A-And I had internalized this narrative that I didn’t deserve love o-or to be happy. That I just deserved some second-rate, half life filled with disregard and pain because other people told me so. A-And when we s-started dating, I finally started to believe that all that hope had been worth something? That maybe I deserved something… better? A-And w-when I saw her, my heart immediately felt like… you were finally admitting it. I wasn’t enough for you either.”

Every punch and injury he sustained playing Adonis Creed paled in comparison to that. He did not know if it was possible to feel worse about what he had done.

“Rae… baby, you gotta know that-“ 

She held up her hand to stop him, Michael immediately falling silent. 

“I know… at the time though? It felt like God confirming everything everyone w-who knew me ever said, t-the fuel for that voice in my head that told me I would never b-be enough, w-was right. And all the ways you showed me I was enough, all the ways you showed up for me… didn’t seem real anymore. And that broke me. So I left, gave you the out I thought everyone who knew me wanted. T-this nuisance out of their lives. But you… you didn’t leave.”

Michael could hear the pure perplexity in her voice, as if the competing voices in her head could not square why he kept reaching out, kept showing up even as she pushed him away. 

“Because I love you.”

“Because you love me.” Raven repeated it but Michael could hear it, the recognition that his words were the truth.

“I… um. I don’t believe I deserve you,” Raven said simply. “But for the first time, I know that I want more than whatever life in the shadows I thought I had to have. I know that I don’t want to push away love a-and happiness anymore. A-and I don’t want to push you away anymore. B-Because you are love, safety, comfort… happiness. I want to believe I deserve better? I want… to believe I deserve you. Because when I’m with you…” 

Raven let out a shaky exhale that felt like her body starting to expel all those tormenting thoughts she internalized as she finally admitted out loud that this love was everything she always wanted. 

“When I’m with you, all I feel is joy. A joy so pure that only something hand crafted by God himself could feel so good. You’re every fantasy I dreamed of but never thought I could have. Since the moment I fell off that damn table like a clumsy fucking idiot, you’ve been my safest place, you’ve been home, and you’ve been one of the few people in my life who’ve loved me unapologetically and loudly.” 

She finally closed the space between them, putting herself within arm’s length of him. 

“And I owe you an apology for… letting my exhaustion and pent up pain blind me to all the ways you’ve loved me loudly since the day we met. Regardless of how tired a-and exhausted I am from falling and crashing into the rocks, you were always worth climbing back up that mountain. You were always worth a second chance. And I should’ve recognized that far earlier.”

A pressure valve Michael did not even know had formed in his body released at her words. It felt like being able to take a deep breath again.

“So I’m here and I’m still hurt a-and exhausted but I’m ready to do something different, ready to run toward the cliff and take the leap and fall again. And I want to do that with you… If I’m not too late?” 

Michael did not even command his legs to move as her confirmation hit his ears. Before either of them could utter another word, she was in his arms. A sweet giggle erupted as he pulled her unexpectedly toward him and crashed his lips against hers. And the peace that brought was unparalleled. 

Raven could have melted against him, her soul at ease for the first time in too long as he held her tightly. 

The rest of their small audience melted away as their hearts and souls sought to reclaim their other half, their kiss spelling out every ache and pain their brief separation caused. His lips felt so familiar, so much like home, that it almost hurt. Every second in his arms felt as if it mended the fissures of Raven’s heart one by one, stitching her back together intentionally and with such care that it made her want to sob. 

Her own foolishness baffled her. How could she have denied herself this? This ethereal, otherworldly type of love. She would never find something comparable with another living soul. Because this insanely perfect man in front of her was it for her. She had never had a real family but in his arms, she could see one and it was everything she had ever dreamed for herself. The emotions of finally accepting, even in objective disbelief, his love for her hit her in waves that gently crashed over her one by one. But she was not overwhelmed like before, drowning beneath them as she fought for air. 

This was serenity, gentle waves blanketing her in warmth and care. Such care that it was painful to pull away to catch her own breath. 

Was breathing really a necessity right now?? She demanded of herself as his touch set off heat and flames of desire as he touched her. Weeks and weeks of deprivation meant she needed this more than she could describe, needed the physical representation of his love. His touch, his kiss, his devotion to her needs.  

She did not even look away from him but her next words were for the pair awkwardly lingering in the room, long forgotten.  

“We need 10 minutes.” 

Alex groaned, breaking the sexual tension in the room with her annoyance, though she acquiesced far faster than Raven expected. Though she suspected his longtime agent could see a losing battle from a mile away. 

“Fine but you really only get 10 minutes. Fuckin’ Oscars not a goddamn industry party. Can’t just roll in whenever we feel like it. And I swear to God… if you fuck on my bed or fuck up your outfits and make up, I’ll spend the rest of my life breaking you two up again.” 

And with that, she grabbed Jason by his sleeve and marched out of the suite, leaving the two of them alone. Raven did not even wait for the click of the door to launch herself back into his arms, her fingers working faster than her mind could direct to undress him. 

If anyone could see them, she imagined their movements were feral, so frenzied with their carnal instincts that it looked purely chaotic. Raven’s dress was in a crumble at her feet, his suit jacket was somewhere Raven could not even see. Her fingers rushed to undo the buttons of his shirt before abandoning the task for his pants. 

“Fuck, why are there so many buttons??” She came up for air long enough to moan in frustration as Alex’s warning rang out in her head. 

Only ten minutes. How was that enough time? That was not even a fraction of the time she required to do all the things her brain demanded she do to feel all of him and ensure he felt all of her too. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he uttered between kisses as he tried to take her incredibly tight but effective spanx off. 

She prayed Alex’s threat was a joke because she did not need a mirror to know her makeup would indeed need more than a light retouch. His kisses were unyielding, sloppy and utterly unrestrained. Their need for each other simply fed off the others and she knew neither would be satiated in ten minutes.

We need to stop, she thought. It was the biggest night of his career. She should stop so he could focus on that, right? 

But she couldn’t, didn’t want to. 

“I need you,” she whimpered, her desire to be filled far louder than the time clock in her head. 

And her voice was so needy that Michael, whose self-control was hanging by a thread, almost gave in. 

The only thing that gave him the strength to stop them before neither of them would be able to stop was the knowledge that she deserved more than a 10-minute quickie. She deserved to be devoured with every ounce of his being devoted to and focused on her. No interruptions, no distractions. She was a goddess to be worshiped with every stroke in her heat and that was not a process that could be rushed.  

“Baby, baby, baby,” he gently cradled her neck, forcing her to slow down and look at him. His resolve was tested at the lust in her eyes, how her entire body was suddenly flushed with heat. “Fuck…” the words were agony to push out but necessary. “I want you so bad. But not like this.” 

Raven, still a work in progress, could not stop the immediate intrusive thought that he did not want her, that she had misread everything. Michael could see it, how her eyes flashed with that fear and insecurity. He would never not want her, he would happily remind her of that every day if necessary. But he knew himself too well. Once he found himself trapped inside her, he would not be able to stop himself. And he wanted to take his time. 

“It’s not you. It’s never you,” he brushed her hair behind her ear. “I just… I want more for this than a 10-minute quickie in a hotel room that isn’t even ours. You deserve more.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, realizing that he was not even thinking about the clock. He was merely thinking about her. That forced her to calm down a bit, her lust still red hot and flowing but the logical part of her brain was taking control again. 

The slight pout on her face made him chuckle and pull her in for another kiss. It was deeper and more sensual, a quiet plea to trust that he would always give her what she needed. Even if not in the exact timing her body desired it. 

“Every moment with you counts and I’m not lettin’ anymore pass that I don’t treat you like you deserve. Trust me, I’ll give you what you need, baby girl. It’ll be worth the wait.” 

Raven knew he was right. Despite the persistent ache in her core, she knew she could wait for what he planned. It would be far better than a rushed reunion on a couch anyway.

“I trust you. Just make sure your team knows to clear your very packed schedule for the next couple days,” she teased as she stole one last kiss before she tried to put some distance between them. Her body still wanted him desperately and while she trusted him, she was not sure she trusted herself. 

But Michael merely pulled her back in and held onto her tighter. 

“Oh the world ain’t gon’ see me or you for more than a couple days. I’m all yours.” He winked at her before helping her get her dress back on and his own suit back on. Once he opened the door to let Alex back in, both of them looked exactly as the two had left them, not a hair out of place. Save Raven’s lipstick, which was completely gone. 

“Damn… three minutes? Knew you couldn’t be worth the hype,” Alex immediately said as she breezed back into the suite, utterly unbothered by the idea that the two might have fucked just moments prior. 

“You always got jokes.” 

Alex immediately fired off last-minute directions to the makeup team to fix Raven’s before they prepared for photos and to leave.  Though Raven had endured the tedious process of getting ready for awards and premieres  before, today was the most hectic yet. But she was not panicked because she stuck close to Michael, who was the picture of ease and calm. He was the eye of this hurricane, the small world that was him purely at ease even when he should not be. 

“You nervous?” she asked as the photographer directed her to perch on Michael’s knee before going to switch out the lens on his camera.  

He offered her the most sincere smile, his eyes glimmering with all the love and adoration he felt toward her. 

“Nah. Why would I be? I already got the most important thing I needed today. Tonight’ll just be a cherry on top.” 

***

Raven was beginning to wonder if her return had turned Michael’s hands into magnets. He barely let her go since they walked out of Alex’s suite. She could not help but laugh when Michael only allowed the photographer two minutes of individual photos before he pulled Raven back into his arms. It was not as if she minded one bit, she had so missed this, missed his touch. It was addicting. 

“You stare at me any harder, I’m gonna combust,” she joked as they sat in the back of his limo, Raven leaning into his side as she had done so many times before. . 

“My bad, my bad. I’m just fuckin’ shocked you’re here.” He weaved his fingers among hers, bringing her hand into his lips. “You know I’m gonna spend everyday making all this shit up to you, right?” 

“I know and I also know it’s unnecessary. I won’t lie, I’m still hurt and confused by what happened. But I know we can fix it. I don’t need you to feel guilty for the rest of our relationship either.”  

“The rest of our lives,” he softly corrected with a playful shove to her shoulder that made her giggle. Fuck he missed that sound, missed her smile.

“The rest of our lives,” she repeated. “I just need you to love me. That’s it.” 

“That’s a given, baby girl.” 

She leaned over and pecked him softly on the lips before settling back in his arms. 

“So… Can I read your speech?” she asked sweetly, knowing there was a terribly crumbled piece of paper stuffed into his jacket pocket. 

“Nope.” 

Raven immediately pouted, putting on the playful sad puppy eyes that always got to him. 

“Those ain’t gon’ work today, baby. But only cause I can’t show you a speech I don’t have.” 

Raven’s eyebrows creased in confusion, immediately assuming that his lack of a prepared speech meant he did not think he would win. How could he think such a thing? 

“Michael… You know you’re gonna win. And you’ve scripted all the others. Why didn’t you write one for tonight? I can jot you something down real quick?” she immediately started to look around as if her cell-phone-sized clutch was big enough to secretly contain a pen and paper. “Allen!” She leaned toward the front. “Do you have any paper? Spare receipt?” 

“Baby, BABY!” Michael called, gripping her hips to guide her back to her seat and calm her panic. “I didn’t say I didn’t write one,” he clarified. “I said I don’t have it. I just realized that… the scripted speeches are not what I want tonight. Need a different direction. So I gave the speech to Alex before we left.” 

Though Raven could guess the reason for a sudden need for a new direction in the 11th hour. But she still found herself asking anyway. “Any reason for this different direction?” 

“Just think I should speak from the heart if I win, you know? Like I did in that interview. If I get to go on that stage tonight, wanna do it as the man I’ve become. Dunno if I have your way with words, though. Not nervous about losing but I’m nervous about fuckin’ up up there, not sayin’ the right thing, you know? Or everyone hating it?” 

Raven’s eyes softened a bit, always appreciating this vulnerable side of him. She knew how difficult and painful it had been to reveal that side to her and to the world. But she knew he was better for it. 

“You don’t need my way with words, baby. You just need yours and yours is poetic, it’s kind a-and loving and true. That isn’t a new direction o-or a new man, Michael. It’s just you. Every moment I’ve known you, that’s just you. You just let me see it and I’m so grateful for it. And you’ve let the world see glimpses of it in the last few months a-and if the response is any indication, the world is grateful too. You’re not nervous about saying the wrong thing. Going out there without the armor you’ve built to protect yourself is just scary. But it’s worth it. You taught me that. Don’t think about the right or wrong words. Just what you want to say about this moment. Whatever words you have will be right.” 

“Feel like you got more poetic on me since January.” 

Raven chuckled and shook her head. “Still only minimally poetic… and I can’t take credit for that one.” But she stopped herself before she said more. Now did not feel like the best moment to drop emotional bombs. 

“We’re here, Mr. Jordan. About three cars in front of us,” Allen called out from the front seat. 

He glanced at Raven, her eyes suddenly swimming with panic that he could tell she desperately wanted to swallow. He could almost see the realization hit her like a wall. She was about to walk out into the public eye for the first time in months at Hollywood’s most significant night of the year. And Michaell had been so elated to have her back that he had not considered how emotionally overwhelming that had to be. 

Raven was determined to hide it as best and long as she could. Tonight was all about Michael and his career. And she had accepted being in the public eye when she decided to go back to him. She knew it would be difficult but he was worth it. They were worth the sacrifice. But her brain assaulted her with every possible name she would be called, the headlines that would materialize tomorrow. And all of that would reflect poorly on him. What if she ruined his life… again?

“Hey, hey, Rae. Baby girl. Look at me,” his hands gently framed her face to force her eyes to him. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me, aight? Tonight’s ours. The first night of the rest of our lives, showing up 100% in our truth. None of this other shit matters. So just focus on me. I won’t let you go, I promise.” 

“Just you and me,” she repeated, nodding slightly. 

And with that, he opened the limo door, standing tall as crowds shouted his name and the chaotic sounds of the carpet filled their ears. 

First night of the rest of our lives. And she was ready. 

***

Though she had not been to many award shows with Michael thus far, she learned one key thing. They were just as boring as they looked on tv except when you were the date of a popular nominee, you did not have the luxury of letting that boredom show. 

Will my jaw ever recover, she wondered as it ached from smiling through three hours of devastatingly mediocre jokes and long-winded speeches. At least the carpet was exciting and thrilling, as daunting as it was. In fact, the carpet was actually fun for the first time.

The chaotic jungle was its usual frantic chaotic place, not any different than she expected. But perhaps it merely felt different because she and Michael were so different from who they were the last time they were out together. They had stripped themselves bare and had shed their armor. They were standing decidedly in their truth and the immense love they shared. And that felt like a new world.

And she noticed so much more than her self-pitied colored glasses allowed her to see. Every protective touch, every studious glance to ensure she was still smiling and well, the well-timed playful remarks or jokes he whispered in her ear right when her nerves started to encroach, every gentle kiss that still held his endless passion for her. She finally saw it all and felt it. And it was everything. 

Michael straightened up next to her, pulling Raven out of her own daydreams. Robert Downey Jr. made his way to the middle of the stage, an envelope labeled Best Actor printed boldly across it. 

She tightened her grip on Michael’s hand. She had a good feeling about this. 

“A leading man is more than an attractive face, though I’m sure every woman would agree that all five men in this category have that quality in common as well. But what they also have in common is vulnerability, empathy, and the courage to search for the humanity and depth of their characters to embody their wants, their fears, their grief, their sorrow boldly and bravely. These five performances are exemplary and remind us all just what a leading man is. Here are the nominees for Best Actor in a Motion Picture.” 

The room dimmed ever so slightly as the reel started to play, the seconds that passed felt more like hours as they watched snippets of each performance. Michael’s was last, Raven’s free hand gently rubbing his arm as she felt his nerves finally kick in. She was impressed he only felt them now, she would have been an utter mess all evening.

“And the winner is…” the Marvel actor did a little fist pump that immediately gave the winner away, deafening applause almost drowning out his name. “Michael B. Jordan, Waves.” 

Michael’s head fell into his hand for a moment, genuine shock coursing through him. He had convinced himself that he would not win to minimize the disappointment. But he had not really considered how it would feel to actually win? To actually receive this honor. And it was more than he could have hoped it would be. 

Raven pulled him into her arms as they stood, tears swimming in her eyes. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered before he kissed her. 

He honestly would have been fine to simply revel in this moment in her arms but he knew the clock was ticking on his speech.

He finally let her go and jogged up the stairs, giving RDJ a hug before stepping in front of the mic. The entire theater was still on their feet applauding and cheering as he stared out into the crowd. 

“Wow. Thank you so much for this. As a kid from New Jersey, you just don't really ever expect your dreams to take off like this, to end up in a place like this. This is just… more than I could’ve ever dreamed for myself. So thank you. There are a million people for me to thank and not enough time before they play me off. My family and friends, my team and manager, the cast and crew who poured their hearts and souls into this film… Without all of you, I wouldn’t have made it here tonight and I’m grateful for your constant support.” 

He glanced down at the trophy in his hand before continuing. “Umm… But there’s one person I do want to thank though and that is the love of my life, Raven Turner. When I look at you, all I can think of is how rewarding it is to be loved by you, to be chosen by you. That makes every day feel like I’ve just won an Oscar. I feel so blessed to be given the opportunity to love you, to stand in your light, and to live everyday working to be the man worthy of your love. Getting to share this moment with you goes beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Thank you for seeing me for all that I am and loving me for it. Thank you for falling with me, baby and I hope I make every day of our lives together worth it.” 

She knew that the tears that streamed down her face were not attractive or good for the camera that was surely about to pan to her but she could not have hoped to care. 

“I love you,” she mouthed though she doubted he could even see her from up there. 

“I love you. Thank you!” He held the statue up in his hand before turning and walking off stage, his standing ovation renewing. 

***

Michael wanted to laugh at how Raven stretched her body like an adorable kitten after sleeping like the literal dead for most of the daylight hours. He did not blame her, they did not stumble back into his house until after 4 am. Once the show ended, the pair bounced from after party to after party drinking, smoking, and dancing the night away. He had not had that much fun at industry events and parties in so long. And it had been so much fun that he was *almost* sad it was over, a perfect final night of an insane run in his career. 

But then he remembered that closing that chapter meant he could focus his attention on the perfect and hopelessly exhausted woman rousing in his arms. They could heal without the distractions of events and the public eye. They could build their lives together officially. The joy of that instinctively caused him to pull her into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. 

“Mornin’ baby,” he whispered, his gruff voice filling her ears as Raven slowly opened her eyes.  

Peace and contentment gently glided through her frame like a light summer’s breeze, easing all the aches and pains she had felt before. She had missed this… falling asleep snuggled in his arms, wrapped lovingly and tightly in his scent. She would have been inclined not to move until she caught a glimpse of the time on his iPad. 

She let out a soft gasp as she tried to shoot up, shocked at how late she slept. However, his tight grip stopped her from lifting much beyond her head and chest. 

“You gotta let me go, baby. We should get up. It’s almost 3 pm… sorry, don’t even know how I slept that fucking late. I know you got shit to do.” 

“We had a late night and there ain’t shit to do today. And if there had been, I would’ve told you. Rest.” 

She used the back of her hand to rub her eyes as she glanced at him, studying how his eyes returned to a script on his iPad that was highlighted to death. She merely rolled her eyes. Of course he would be working right after the biggest night of his career. 

“How long have you been up?” 

“Since 11 or so?” he shrugged. “Figured I’d relax and read some scripts my team pulled for Outliers. Been so crazy, they’ve just been piling up. Grabbed a snack bout an hour ago and made you some tea but it’s definitely cold. I can make you more if you want.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me??” 

He merely shrugged with his unbothered charm, his hand gently rubbing her back, which lulled her into laying her head down on his chest again despite her brain’s alarm bells to get up.

How am I so tired?? She wondered as her eyes threatened to fall shut again. All her body wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms.  

“When you didn’t even move when I got up, it seemed like you needed the rest. And still do.”  

“I’m good.” 

“Those bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

“I know you ain’t talking…” she offered back, glancing pointedly at the equally stark dark circles under his eyes. 

“Touche. But no actor gets enough sleep. Early call times, global press tours, events and after parties. It’s the name of the game. You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” His annotation was that of a question but they both knew the answer. “How much sleep you been getting since we-” Michael stopped himself, the words he held back still hanging heavily in the air. There was still so much they still had to discuss, wounds that were still unhealed and unresolved. 

While Michael thought Raven was always stunning, he could not ignore the obvious toll the events of late had taken on his girl. He thought it had just been emotional but he had not seen her long enough to notice the physical strain his actions had caused too. And while she had told him not to feel guilty, he did. So he was not going to wake her up or bother her when it was clear she required a reset. And while he would always adore her for rallying for him last night, today was a new day. And she deserved to be catered to and have someone take care of her for a change. 

“Couple hours a night… Between the break up and the paparazzi during the first couple weeks… and then all the shit on social media, I was just on edge 24/7, my brain couldn’t shut off long enough to sleep… or sleep well. I had some old sleeping pills I used some nights when I was desperate but… it was hard not to think about everything over and over and over again. And then wallow in it.” 

“You stopped eating too? You lost weight.” 

Raven chuckled. “You know most men wouldn’t have a problem with their girlfriend losing a couple pounds. Wasn’t like I didn’t need to.” 

“You’re fuckin’ sexy at any weight but I gotta problem with anything that means you ain’t taking care of yourself. Especially when it’s my fault.” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose and it’s no one’s fault. I just… didn’t really have an appetite a lot. But that’s starting to come back. I’m fine, Michael. Truly. We’re still celebrating you, can’t end that early just to fuss over little ole me.” 

Michael knew she wanted him to pretend he believed her for the sake of not discussing this right now. But what was the point in that? He would not pretend he had not been terrified for her. That he was not still terrified at how all of this had worn her down. And he knew it was not just what he did, it had just been the final straw in a life-long list of painful experiences. But one thing Raven had always had when he looked at her was hope, even if the flame was as small as a dying candle. There was always an air about her that let him know she genuinely believed things would get better one day. 

But when he saw her at her apartment, the night at that bar? That was gone, completely extinguished. Her eyes, his favorite part of her, held nothing but sorrow. He would not be able to live with himself if he ever saw that look in her eyes again. 

“You aren’t fine, Rae. I know that shit. And I’m allowed to worry about you. I mean shit, how you looked after that video was bad enough. Then the bar?? Not gon’ forget that shit happened just cause we’re back together. And I’m not gon’ pretend you’re fine when you aren’t either. You’re not gonna keep sweeping your needs under the rug. We can lay here all day and sleep if that’s what you need.”

“You have better things to do, Mr. Academy Award Winner then watch me sleep. I can take care of myself.” 

“What if I like watching you sleep??” 

“Then that would be kinda endearing and… kinda creepy?” she mused. “But mostly endearing.” Not that she would ever admit it but she enjoyed watching him sleep too. 

“Well I might be creepy then,” he admitted. He did genuinely love watching her sleep, when she was in his arms, there was just a rare peace about her that he loved to see. “The outside world has gotten too much of me lately. Now, the only thing I wanna do is take care of you. Not cause you can’t do that shit yourself but because you shouldn’t have to. Everyone needs to be taken care of and I’m not letting the next 30 years go by without you knowing what that feels like. Now you’re gonna feel it. Every single day. Rest, Raven.”

His words tumbled through her brain as she stared at him for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears. She was exhausted and not just physically. But of carrying the weight of every problem on her shoulders, of being alone in crafting solutions. She was so often consumed by pure survival and it had made her resourceful and smart. There was not a problem that life threw at her that Raven had not figured out a way through. She was stuck in survivor mode 24/7. But the problem with survival is that it was an all-consuming task. There’s no opportunity… no room to rest. And no one to take on the burdens for her so she could. 

“I just haven’t h-had anyone… who cared enough to worry… in a long time, no one willing to share the load,” she offered simply, sniffling lightly. “Until you hired David… I didn’t think you cared what happened to me after we… I ended things.” 

“I did. I do.” His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb whisking away the tears that slowly fell. “Fuck, I thought about you every minute of the damn day, Rae. You had me over here losing my damn mind. I care… I love you so much, it fucking killed me. And scared me. And I deserved it, to worry and stress and flip shit because I fucked up… I hurt you.”

“You did. But it wasn’t just you. Life’s been shit before and I could always, you know, keep going? It was just the final blow to the little bit of hope I had? And I just didn’t see the point in getting back up again. That was my best… the bare minimum needed to keep breathing. The heartache… I knew I could get over that eventually. One day in the far fucking future, I could… would force myself to get over you. Or just accept that I could never have you. It was the ache of losing hope that killed me. It was like my soul ached? And there were moments, like the night of your premiere, that I just thought that would never heal?” 

“So you got wasted? To forget?” 

She chuckled. “Alcohol is a great temporary solution. When you’re that low… shit gets desperate,” she admitted. “Anything to numb the pain for a short while. But it always comes back.” 

“How often?” 

“Rarely and that was the worst night, I promise. Honestly, wasn’t sure I’d ever want to touch alcohol again after that.”  

“And now? How do you feel?” 

“The wounds in my heart still need mending but every second back with you has healed parts of my soul. I’m… not ok,” she admitted, Michael immediately empathizing with how difficult it was for her to say those words. “You’re right… it doesn’t just go away. But I will be ok.” 

He nodded. “I know you will be. I’m gonna make sure of it. Raven… look, I know this shit is scary, giving up control when you’ve been the one driving for so long, the one responsible for everything for so long. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere and I’m not gonna let go again. It’s safe to let someone else behind the wheel for a while. Rest for me, baby girl. Please. 

As if she was light as a feather, he shifted her so her body laid on top of his chest, his strong arms anchoring her in that spot. She buried her face in the nape of his neck, breathing in the perfect scent that her heart recognized as him. 

Even as her body resumed its pliant posture in his arms, Raven realized she did not want rest. No, she wanted to feel him in the very depths of her. She knew they had to talk, knew there were conversations to be had. But fuck, she could not wait. She wanted to revel in this moment, of finally being with someone who genuinely loved her and cared. And she needed to feel it on a cellular level. 

Raven forced herself to sit up, quickly straddling his hips and giving him a quick but tantalizing grind against him. That turned his frown into a mischievous grin, though she could still see the concern in his eyes. 

“This is the opposite of rest, baby girl.” 

“I’ll rest as long as you want after. I need you.” 

“We still got a lot to talk about, Rae. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the moment ‘n not really want this yet. ‘N I…” Raven should have been put off the pure animalistic look simmering in his eyes. But instead it just made the desire grow stronger, long tentacles stretching out to every pleasure zone in her body. Demanding he touch, bite, slap, caress… literally do anything to satiate her. “I’m not sure what you need, what we both need.”  

Her palms cupped his face, guiding his eyes to hers. “Then don’t be sure. I love that you take care of me, Michael. But taking care of me isn’t having the perfect thing to say or do for me. Sometimes, it’s just being you and figuring it out as we go. I know I need you. And that’s what I want, to feel every part of you… whatever you have to give me. And everything we need to talk about will still be here when you’re done with me.”

And with her permission, the reins holding him back evaporated and he pounced. Raven was on her back before she could blink, Michael capturing her lips, reminding her of the dominance she missed. And desperately craved it.  

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

“Everything. All of you.” 

Michael would happily oblige. He licked his lips as he stared down at her. Where would he even start? 

Some part of him wanted to render her utterly immobile as he usually did. But a more significant part of him just wanted to savor her. Wanted to feel everything she had to offer and bask in having her back with him. And while he loved the fast-paced dominant sex they were used to, it did not always allow for that. And he knew in his heart that they both needed more than fast and furious today.

His hands gently ran up the smooth skin of her thighs, gathering the oversized t-shirt on her frame in his hands and sliding it off. Her nipples pebbled slightly at the cold air against her warm skin. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You know that shit right?” he asked as he pressed soft kisses against her neck. 

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot before moving down to her collarbone. 

“You know how much I love you? What I’d do for you?” he continued a slow but intentional path down her body, lingering on her chest as he engulfed each of her nipples between his lips. He took his time there, remembering how much she enjoyed nipple play. His mind called back to the numerous times he put clamps on them. His tongue licked her nipples, Raven whimpering and squirming beneath his hot mouth.

Soon, they would reacquaint themselves with those roles, he thought. If she was up for it.

Her body was ablaze as his lips and tongue found their home on every inch of her skin he could get to. Down he trekked, only slowing when he got to the paradise between her thighs. He knew her inner thighs were a weak spot, something he learned long long ago. He knew it was the teasing that got to her, being so close to where she needed pleasure the most but not exactly there yet. 

“Fuck I missed this,” he whispered. “Those little moans you make, how I make you squirm and beg and plead. The taste of you on my tongue.” 

“Michael… please,” she whimpered. “I need…” the words were lost on her, her brain was no longer in the decision-making business. Her body, the pleasure sensors that lived beneath the surface of her skin guided every feeling, every filthy thought, every base desire and need. “C-Can’t wait.” 

He lifted his head from between her thighs, his breath teasing her core with heat that turned her into putty in his hands. She could not wait, she needed to be connected to him. To feel their bodies become one again in the most intimate and carnal way. 

“You trust me, baby?” 

“With my life,” she answered truthfully. 

While his actions had shaken that trust, when it boiled down to it, she would never trust her body with anyone as she did with Michael. She was his and he had never harmed her or made her regret handing over the reins to her pleasure to him. He had proven himself worthy of it tenfold. 

“Then trust that Imma take care of you, princess. Always.” 

Princess… fuck was it possible for her heart to literally explode? Or for her to be anymore wet than she already was? 

His poor sheets, she mused. 

He resituated her legs on his shoulders and grinned up at her as he continued nipping at her inner thighs, Raven’s soft moans only spurring him on. She was already a mess… a delicious, delectable mess to be sure, her juices glistening and begging him to lick, suck… devour her. 

“Fuck… all this for me, baby?” he smiled as his kisses and bites grew closer and closer to where she desired, where she needed his touch the most. 

“Y-yes…” Her body had missed him more than she realized. 

“I missed you.” And with that short statement, devour her, he did. 

Bliss. 

Ecstasy. 

Fucking nirvana. 

He made her feel all of it with one masterful flick of his tongue against her bud, her back arching off his mattress and a guttural moan rising from her belly. He proved within minutes that he had not forgotten, forgotten what buttons to push, what spots to focus his attention, how she liked to be pleasured. 

He did not let up or come up for air as  his mouth savored every inch of her that he could, spelling out his adoration and love for her - not with his words - but with his tongue and his two fingers buried in her heat. There was a sensual pace to it that she was not used to with him. Typically, sex was deliciously punishing and unyielding. It was rooted in his care and gentleness for her but the pace left no time to breathe. Not that she minded. 

But today? He took particular care, the march up to her peak was tantalizingly slow but perfect all the same. There was no rush between them, despite Raven’s original desire to fit almost 2 months of lost time into this one moment. But Michael understood that they had time. There was no invisible clock, nothing rushing them. He could savor the little gasps of pleasure when he sucked her clit gently, the way her legs clamped around his head when she was close, how her pussy clenched around his fingers as he increased his speed to exactly where she liked, how her hips rocked to meet every thrust. 

Every plea, every moan, every scream for more. He wanted to hear all of it. And he wanted her to savor the feeling of being taken care of, because she would need to learn to get used to it. He could do this every day, more than once a day to be honest. 

“So… close,” her moans grew louder and louder as he took her to the edge of the cliff of pleasure. 

She allowed herself to fall as she felt the pleasure in her belly snap. Her mouth simply remained agape with a breathless scream on her lips as she fell into the depths of ecstasy. The crash didn’t feel like one at all, but a soft landing as he continued his ministrations against her clit, drawing out her orgasm for as long as he could. And it was pure bliss, warm waves of pleasure continuing to crash over her until he finally extracted himself from between her legs. 

“That was…” Being at a loss for words was commonplace when they fucked. But Michael understood as he pressed his lips to hers, allowing her to taste herself briefly. 

“Fuck!” she cried out as he immediately started to sheathe himself inside her, a welcomed surprise. She tried to hide it as her face screwed for a split second, her body becoming reacquainted with his girth and size. The stretch he provided today in particular, given their stint apart, was a short-lived sting of pain that managed to take her breath away. 

He immediately stilled. 

“Talk to me, Rae. You good?” 

Her eyes were still shut tight as she waited for a moment for her to get used to him again. So she merely nodded. 

“Words, baby.” 

“Y-Yea I’m good. J-just been a minute a-and you surprised me.” She let out a content sigh as pain gave way to mind numbing pleasure, giving him the directive to move. “A-and t-that’s not… fair,” she moaned. “W-wanted… to taste… you too.” She wanted to force her lips into a playful pout but the only facial expressions her muscles could conjure up were those of passion and pleasure. 

“Next time, princess.” He sucked on the soft skin of her neck as he drove into her. 

Raven could only see the darkness of the back of her head as her eyes rolled back with every rock forward of his hips, sending his dick right into her g-spot. His thrusts were relentless, Raven’s nails digging into his back as she held onto him for dear life. 

“Fuck… I-I love you,” she panted, unable to form any other real sentences worth anything. That was all that needed to be said in her mind. 

“Say it again,” he demanded, gently biting her neck as her declaration of love only spurred him on. He grabbed her legs and pulled her ankles to his shoulders. 

“I love… FUCK! Fuckkkkk, j-just like that!” She cried out, abandoning the words originally on her lips for completely incoherent ramblings of a woman who was being split into two but loved every single second of it. 

Did he just kill me?? Am I dead?? Because this no longer felt of this world? No human being should be allowed to experience this sort of pleasure. Or be able to give it… was the man above her even human? 

“You feel so good, baby. You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

Stopping?? An utterly foreign concept to him at that moment. And he did not. Raven barely could breath as Michael moved her into position after position, fucking her into oblivion. 

Tears sprang to her eyes as he fucked her from behind, his teeth biting gently into the skin of her neck.

“Where you want it, princess??” he demanded as he felt himself getting close. 

“Cum inside me,” she gasped, not wanting their union to end any sooner than it needed to. This was as close as they could get and for some part of her, it still was not close enough. 

More, more, more, her soul seemed to demand. More of him. 

“Don’t say that shit to me if you don’t mean it?” he warned, those few words causing a fever to settle over him, his hips snapping forward into her ass with a force that jolted her further into his mattress. 

“Please, baby,” she whined desperately, unable to find any other words to assure him that was what she wanted. 

Euphoric was the only word that came to mind as he pulled her flush to his chest and emptied his cum inside her. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she panted, her pussy clenching around him as he pumped in and out of her slowly.

Michael gently let her body fall into the mattress, Raven’s eyes already starting to flutter closed as he went to grab a warm towel. Another whimper escaped her lips as he cleaned her up. 

“That was… whew. I missed you.”

Michael did not bother putting his own clothes back on but instead slid into bed with her, cuddling her body against his. 

Of course now, sleep was not something Rave could avoid, her body spent as it always was after their time together. 

“ Give me an hour and then my legs will work again. And then I’m taking over,” she muttered as she yawned. 

He merely laughed and nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“Wouldn’t bet on it. I only made you cum four times.” 

Raven lifted her head to look at him incrediously. “Only four??? I can’t feel my legs, babe.” Her jaw dropped at the slight frown creasing his lips. “Oh my God… you’re actually upset,” she laughed. “You’re insane.” 

“I have a reputation to uphold, babe. Six minimum every time.” 

“If you wanna kill me, just say so,” she joked.

“Just tryin’ to put you to sleep without a fight,” he offered with a smile. “I give it five minutes before you’re out like a light.” 

“Very mischievous but effective.” 

Raven did not understand how she could even require more sleep, even after a palty (as Michael would complain) four orgasms. But he had accomplished his goal, her entire body was boneless and pliant in his hands. Everything in her told her she was finally home and safe to let go of everything else for the first time in her life. So she welcomed the coming rest, allowing her eyes to drift closed. However, before she fully gave in, she whispered. 

“You should rest too… you’ve been going and going since the top of the year. You’ve earned it too.” 

“Deal.” 

The life of an actor was defined by sleep deprivation so Michael had learned the important trait of falling asleep literally anywhere and anytime. Because his body was on his press tour schedule, he had felt wide awake after a few hours of rest this morning. But he knew if he closed his eyes for 5 minutes, he would pass out again. 

“I love you,” he offered quietly as he shifted them both so he was laying down again. 

“Not as much… as I love you,” she mumbled back as her eyes fluttered closed.

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @majesticbrown @roguekiki @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154 @munchsa

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A/N: Whew ok y'all do not know how much I agonized over this chapter LOL but our babies are backkkkkk and we have maybe two chapters left and an epilogue. Thanks so much for sticking by my slow writing ass. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Hank McCoy’s sibling

Hank McCoy x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n: i started writing this fic months ago and when i was halfway done mobile glitched and deleted the whole draft so i gave up out of rage anyways. i dont think i liked how it turned out but idk!

prompt: anonymous: “Hellooo !! First of all i have to say that i love your fics !! Second of all , i wanted to request a headcanon , with being hank mccoy’s little sister?? I was thinking that she is a mutant and she has powers like Wanda. It would be really cool to see is with the other x men. Also her age to be around 14 when the first movie sets place ?( Sorry if i didn’t explain it well)”

being a mutant who had just discovered their powers was hard

what was even harder was that your brother hank had to take you in when it happened

hank understood what it felt like to be different, and luckily he had a good enough job to support you

“just sit here and do your homework. quietly” -hank, seating you in his office at work

“what makes you think i wont be quiet?” -you

“you blew up the toaster this morning” -hank

“it burnt my toast” -you

“listen, okay? no one can no we are what we are. just be calm. if you need help on your homework, let me know” -hank

you spent a lot of time at hank’s work, which led to you two immediately being exposed by charles xavier when he waltzed into your lives

“oh, dear, you’ve just experienced your mutation recently. you’re a powerful one, but you can’t control it well. we can help with that” -charles

he quickly realized it was a mistake to comment on yours and your brother’s…issues

“no! no, y/n, it’s too dangerous. you’re in middle school, you have homework. im not letting him turn you into a soldier” -hank

if you couldn’t tell by now, hank was a bit anxious about raising you

after all, your powers weren’t much alike, he didn’t know how to navigate this

“i need to learn how to control them, or else im gonna hurt someone” -you

you didn’t understand what it felt like to look different, but he didn’t understand what it felt like to fear yourself

“who’s the kid?” -alex

“that’s my sibling, y/n” -hank

“what’s your power?” -alex

“it’s kind of…uncontrollable. i can’t show you” -you

“i know how that feels” -alex

“you do?!” -you

when alex finally revealed his power, it made you excited to show your energy blasts

you managed to keep them mostly contained and alex gave you a huge high five

“stay away from him, y/n. he’s not a good influence” -hank

“but we have similar powers. im not alone!” -you

“doesn’t mean you need to be friends” -hank

the rest of the gang was super sweet to you, but you had to remind them you were young, not little

“you’re probably the strongest out of all of us, kiddo” -raven

sean liked to pretend like you were super scary and cower whenever you looked at him

“no please dont hurt me!!!” -sean, convincingly but sarcastically

you became everyone’s little sibling

“admit it, we’ve never been closer” -you

“yeah, you’re right” -hank

“and we aren’t so lonely” -you

“that’s also true” -hank

“so why are you acting so protective and jealous” -you

“im just used to it being us two” -hank

“yeah but now we aren’t struggling, we have all this space to move around and time to focus on important things. i can finally use my powers without getting scared!” -you

“are you still keeping up with your schoolwork?” -hank

“stop worrying so much, hank” -you

regardless of his protests, you still geared up to fight and it infuriated him

what infuriated you was that he was blue

“what. the hell. did you do?” -you

“im the adult here, why are you in that suit. y/n’s not going on this mission. and watch your language!” -hank

you nearly gave him a heart attack, but by the end of the fight he was proud of you. truly.

for a short time, the remainer of the team stayed together

alex and you trained together often

“hey! only i can bully hank” -you

“oh, you’re making rules now?” -alex

“i am the boss around here” -you

charles admired how far you’d come

and hank was honestly grateful he wasn’t raising you alone

you continued your schooling and just as you graduated, charles offered you a job teaching at the school for gifted youngsters

but it shortly closed after that, leaving you without much of a purpose

“hank, i think i need to go off on my own” -you

“it’s too dangerous, y/n. you’re much better off here” -hank

“you mean with you and charles? two of the most self-hating mutants i know? charles is injecting himself with medication to stop his powers. medication YOU made. how long until you make one for me so im not so ‘dangerous’ anymore” -you

“what could you possibly do out there?” -hank

“i already got a job as a teacher, hank. i’m off to go live my life. call me if you need me” -you

he did call you later, rambling about a mutant from the future preventing a war or something. just that you needed to come back

“y/n, good to see you” -logan

“do i know you?” -you

“apparently he knows all of us” -charles

“thats not weird” -you, sarcastically

it’d been a while since you’d seen any action, so it was a little refreshing doing something like breaking into the pentagon

“after this, maybe we could go out sometime” -peter

“get away from them!” -hank

“i got this hank—kid, i’m too old for you” -you

“you’re barely five years older than me” -peter

“you’re seventeen. go away.” -you

you and hank laughed about it later

really, it was weird seeing erik and raven again. even charles with his shit together. it was like old times

you just wished it could stick

you left before any more damage could be done to your personal life and gave hank a big hug

“be safe. don’t do anything stupid” -you

“hey, thats what i was gonna say” -hank

you went back to your life and soon got a call from charles

a job offer, the school was opening again

“come home, y/n. hank misses you” -charles

it took some convincing, but you came back

and maybe this time things would be different

you got your classes and were ready to start teaching a new generation of mutants the way you wished you were taught

(sorry i cut this short i ran out of ideas 😭)

taglist: @locke-writes // @randomawesomeperson102 // @captainshazamerica // @dindjarinsspouse // @summersimmerus // @simp-legend // @nekoannie-chan // @groovy-lady // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[muddyorbsblr]

would've could've should've pt2

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: You and Loki attend an alumni event at your college, hiding in plain sight while on a mission to retrieve information about HYDRA experiments within campus; you cross paths with someone from your past.

Word Count: 6.5k [pace yourself; keep water on standby]

Warnings (spoilers ahead but also you need these): 18+ | heavy themes (retraumatizing; emotional trauma from past relationship; past relationship with severe power imbalance; past relationship involving severely predatory behavior; implied dubcon mentioned in memories); mentions of human experimentation involving drug-induced mental and emotional subjugation; angst; Tony's a-hole tendencies; language [let me know if I missed anything and I'll change it immediately]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; keep the song this is titled after in mind especially "I damn sure never would've danced with the devil at 19"

There'd been a tension between you and Loki ever since that movie night gone wrong where his brother let slip that he was frustrated in his current relationship. At least where physical contact was concerned, or lack thereof. Thor even went so far as to insinuate that Loki doubted his girlfriend even loved him if she wasn't even willing to share her body with him.

The unease was driving the god to the brink of madness, every part of him shaking with the urge to pull you into a room and beg you to tell him what he could do to make things better. He would do just about anything for you, and it pained him to realize that you didn't actually know that.

Perhaps with this new mission that you two were being sent off to, you two could have some much needed time together away from all the noise. And especially away from his brother that thought he knew what was best for him. Thor didn't know a damned thing.

You were best for him. He just needed to be leagues better in showing you that so you could know it as well as he did.

And even though the destination wasn't all that romantic, the god still had a good few tricks up his sleeve that could help him make do with what he had.

"Y/N, quick question about lodging arrangements for your mission with Laufeyson." Loki immediately tuned out all of the other noise around him to listen in on your conversation with the worker from Operations & Logistics. One of the perks he'd found from his Jotun heritage: the enhanced senses that allowed him to eavesdrop even from across the rather spacious room.

"I don't care about the view, Kristy, just stick us wherever," you spoke around the cookie you were munching on.

"Oh, no it's not about the view. You two are booked for a suite, so you'll have a fantastic view of the Hills regardless. Maybe even the Hollywood sign!" She bounded in her spot slightly, clearly excited as she imagined what you'd be seeing from the suite's balcony.

Meanwhile the raven-haired god was already losing himself in the image of sharing some champagne with you, your features illuminated by the city lights. Perhaps stealing multiple kisses through the night.

"I was wondering about the uhh…bedroom arrangements? You want one bedroom or two?"

He was about to speak up, nearly shouting that you only needed a single room with a single bed before you answered, not a single part of you betraying your image of calm consideration. "Two." A pit formed in his stomach as your eyes didn't even dart to steal a glance at him.

"You sure about that, jellybean?" Stark butted in, looking up from his seat at a nearby table with his daughter. "You're supposed to be masquerading as a couple all happy in love and shit."

"Uh huh, sure. In public."

"Alright then. Scenario." He leaned forward on his seat, pointing his writing instrument at you. "Say someone sees you while you're out on the streets, takes an interest in getting photographs of you. You're in Los Angeles, paparazzi's a dime a dozen and some of them know how much pictures of Avengers sell, especially if they look like they're dating. Say our hypothetical pap friend has a telephoto lens that can see into your suite and sees you going into separate rooms. What then?"

You didn't even take a moment to think it over. Instead shrugging and answering him in a perfectly laid back tone, "Couples fight. Paint a smile for the cameras and sleep in separate beds. That's Hollywood, baby."

Loki's pulse thundered in his ears, almost dulling out the way that Stark turned back to his daughter and told her, "You do not ever go to your Auntie Y/N for relationship advice, are we clear?" The little girl only answered her father with a little salute.

Was that what was happening? The tension that ran thick between you two whenever you were so much as in the same breathing space together? Were you fighting?

"Two rooms it is then," the Logistics worker spoke again, tapping away at her tablet before giving both you and Stark a thumbs up, confirming that the reservation had been made.

"Hey, Reindeer Games, jellybean, word of advice? You know, from a friend or colleague or whatever you wanna call me?"

"You're my friend, Stark, I'm Morgan's godmother for fuck's sake," you shot back at the same time that Loki said, "Well an annoyance would be the term I'd use, but go ahead."

"Try to have fun? You're going to your college reunion, Y/N. I'm sure you have some familiar faces you wanna say hi to, reminisce about your random acts of debauchery and dance with like you're 19 again at the club with your fake IDs trying to score some alcohol from the bartender that pretends those cards are legit?" He then turned his focus to Loki. "And you. Try to get some. Unless of course you're still miserably attached to Little Miss Prim and Prissy with a fifty foot pole because she doesn't wanna do the naked tango with you."

"What's a tango?" the smaller Stark queried, looking up from her workbook.

"It's a dance, baby," you answered her, smirking into your drink before you took a sip.

"Naked dancing, Auntie Y/N? I'm confused." The Logistics worker decided to take her leave at this moment, scurrying out of the room with a little nod toward everyone present.

"I know you are, baby." You walked over to her, ruffling her hair before placing a kiss on the top of the little girl's head. "Ask your parents about naked tangos. I'm not gonna be the one to talk to you about the birds and the bees."

"Birds and bees can dance with each other? But isn't a bee too small for a bird?"

"All excellent questions, sweetie." You gave Stark a mischievous look that would have done the god proud had it not been for the knots still sitting heavy in his stomach. "Good luck, Tony. And for the record? I wasn't a party girl in college. Some of us actually had to bury our noses in books and study our way to our degree. We can't all be genius billionaire playboy philanthropists."

"Ah, come on, jellybean, there had to be something you did for fun in college." The way you froze for a fraction of a second didn't go unnoticed by the god, but it seemed to slip past Stark and his daughter all too easily. "Just remember that this shouldn't just be a mission for you, you're gonna be among your old friends. Take a second to...I don't know, mingle. Catch up."

"Stark? The only reason I even agreed to go to the reunion is because of the mission. Our intel found evidence suggesting that HYDRA took over and repurposed a building in my old college and they might be housing volatile maybe even catastrophic kinds of compounds in there, and we're just going for a recon mission. In and out. The only purpose I'd have for mingling is wanting to see who in campus might be involved in the shady shit."

"Fine, whatever floats your boat, Y/L/N. At least go say hi to your old professors, though. Might make their entire year being able to brag to their incoming classes that they once mentored an Avenger back in the day."

For some reason those words from Stark had you freezing up even more, trying to mask it by nodding a little too vigorously before taking a swift leave to the kitchen area, setting your mug down. Loki took that as his opportunity to perhaps have a moment with you before you went off to your apartment for the night. He made his way to you, speaking just barely above a whisper. "Darling, I'm so sorry you had to hear that barb from Stark." His arms ached to simply reach over and pull you into an embrace, the only thing stopping him being the reminder that you both had agreed to keep your current entanglement with one another more private.

But he wanted more than anything to ignore that reminder completely. Especially after looking upon your features and seeing a blank stare of what he horrifyingly recognized as defeat in your eyes.

"It's fine, Mischief," you answered him, your voice monotonous and almost completely devoid of emotion. "He doesn't know he was talking about me. Serves me right anyway. Prim and prissy might as well be tattooed on my forehead."

The god's skin bristled with irritation hearing you repeat the billionaire's words as if you were already accepting of the new unwelcome moniker. "I should have a word with him. Tell him his remarks have the most undesired effect on you. He'll stop, I'm sure of it. Once he knows that it's you. Even be remorseful."

"You tell him and everyone will know," you deadpanned, your face remaining stoic as ever. "He'll tell everyone before the night's over and suddenly what's private isn't so private anymore. Is that what you want?"

He stood silent, staring at you with your blank expression that you'd given him since that disastrous night where Thor made the idiotic remarks that so efficiently drove a wedge between you two. A wedge he somehow didn't know how to dislodge. "I…I simply want for us to be okay."

His heart splintered seeing you give him something between a grimace and a small smile, shrugging before answering in the same flat tone, "Then we're okay."

Then why does it feel as if you're pushing me farther and farther away with every passing day? he wanted to ask you, the words weighing heavy on his tongue as he watched you walk away, back to your apartment. Why does it feel like I've lost you?

The level of guardedness you displayed ever since you stepped foot on your old campus put Loki on high alert. You always exhibited a calculated caution in missions, but this seemed beyond that. There was nothing in your stance that implied your readiness to fight and defend yourself, but rather there was a fear.

A readiness to run. To disappear.

Your shivering in his hold did nothing to convince him of any other explanation. Being here elicited a fear in you that he couldn't comprehend. As if there were ghosts from your past lurking in the shadowy corners of the dimly lit gymnasium.

"Oh my gosh, is that…Y/N?" a high-pitched voice shrieked over the thumping stereo, coming from a rather bubbly looking woman that was bounding toward you, arms outstretched with a wide beaming grin on her face. "I haven't seen you since graduation! Our old profs just can't stop talking about you and how proud they are that they taught an Avenger, they're hoping they get to see you tonight. Get a picture or two." She then turned her attention to Loki, jaw on the floor when he saw his arm gently wrapped around you. "Are you two--?!"

"Ohh! Uhm…no." You worked your way out of Loki's hold to give the woman a friendly embrace before turning back to face him. "Loki, this is Bianca, we shared a good number of classes together. Bianca, this is Loki, my uhh--" Your voice caught in your throat trying to find a word to describe the god.

I'm yours, little mortal. Plain and simple, he wanted to tell you, regardless of present company.

"We work together," you told her, the words worsening the sinking feeling that he had in his stomach. "Work's been a little slow lately so Stark assigned me to show him around and expose him to what a former college girl's life is like."

"College girl? You?" The woman burst into a fit of giggles. "Y/N you were many things when we roamed these halls, but you were more a mini professor than anything. I never once even saw you step foot at a frat party or a club…you were always just hanging out with--"

"You know what, you're absolutely right," you cut her off, your voice louder than normal even with the thumping music surrounding you all. "Loki, maybe you'd be better suited to learn from my old friends. Go off with Bianca, she and the other girls can't possibly steer you wrong."

The god's blood ran cold as your words hit him. He felt as if you were steering him away from you for more than just this moment. As if your sentiment held a poorly veiled secondary sentiment, pushing him away from you so that he could pursue someone else with your blessing.

He did his best to put on a casual smile, to politely decline your offering of your old campus friend. "I accompanied you to learn from you, little mortal," he spoke over the music, reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers between yours. "I wish to stay with you. You cannot rid yourself of me that easily."

"I'm not ridding myself of you, Mischief," you shot back, your friend's eyes darting rapidly between the two of you before slowly stepping away. "It's more of the other way around. We both know that I'm holding you back, so here's your exit--"

"I don't want an exit, Y/N, I want you," he insisted through gritted teeth, fighting every urge to lead you both into a more secluded corner so you could talk this out without having to shout just so you could hear each other. "I wish to be with you, regardless of--"

"Well as I live and breathe, that's a face I didn't think I'd see again." Your eyes widened hearing the voice of the man that approached you next, your pulse beating so furiously that Loki could see it pumping against your neck.

This was definitely not one of your former classmates. The man was middle-aged, his hair obviously colored to mask the silver that was peeking through at the roots as well as his eyebrows. He did what he could to dress himself in line with what was considered stylish but so clearly missed the mark. And emphasizing his age further was the clearly decades younger woman he had as his companion, looking as if she belonged in his classroom rather than in his bedroom.

"Prof--Professor Richardson," you stammered, the breathy almost fearful tone in your voice immediately putting the god on high alert. "Bianca m-mentioned you and the other guys were here tonight."

"Oh, come on Y/N it's been years since you had yourself folded into those awkward armchairs, there's no need to be so formal with me. Please, call me Simon. In fact, I should probably be a touch more formal with you, considering that one of my favorite students is now my favorite Avenger." His eyes quickly darted to the god's. "No offense, dude. You're pretty great, too. There's just something about those spandex suits, you know?"

You gripped Loki's hand tighter for a fraction of a second as the man's eyes roamed your form unabashedly, the spiteful jealousy from his companion written all over her face.

He didn't wait for you to introduce him again as someone you simply 'worked with', choosing to speak up to hopefully soothe your very obvious unease. "I must agree with you there, Y/N quite a remarkable agent." He extended his hand out toward your professor. "I'm Loki. Y/N's boyfriend."

Your breath caught in your throat in a strangled sound at the word, looking up at the god with wide eyes before trying to compose yourself again. Before you could speak, however, Simon did.

"Well if she's as remarkable a girlfriend as she was a student, then you have yourself a real catch right here. You're quite the lucky man--god, I mean." The woman next to him cleared her throat conspicuously loudly, the tail end of it sounding more like a muffled shriek, calling Simon's attention to her. He eyed her with a bit of irritation before turning back to you. "Oh where are my manners? This is Deena. I'm her thesis advisor for her graduating year."

"Oh…that's…" You were quite clearly struggling to form words. You addressed the student instead, your eyes quickly darting to the way she gripped her professor's arm so tightly before looking back at her. "Wow. You're quite the lucky young lady. Professor Richardson mentioned back then that he rarely took on the role of advisor. I'm sure your proposal was nothing short of remarkable."

The student offered you a tight smile in response, opening her mouth to speak before your former professor perked up again. "In all these years, nobody still quite measures up to you, though, Miss Y/L/N. Oh, sorry. Agent Y/L/N." He shifted his gaze to address the god once more. "It was a bleak day when I had to give her her final grade for her final course with me."

He reached his hand out toward you which you took with a slight tremor in your fingers. Loki way too easily heard the gasp that slipped out of you when Simon took your hand in both of his, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your fingers.

"I hope to see you around some more while you're in town, Y/N." The way he rolled the syllables of your name, like he was savoring a taste on his tongue, didn't sight right with the Asgardian. He was the only one that could speak your name like that. At least…he hoped he still could.

"Yeah…s-sure," you mumbled, jerking your hand out of the professor's hand, subtly wiping the back of it on your skirt when you smoothed your hands over your dress. "En--Enjoy the rest of your night, Simon. Deena." You nodded your head at both of them before walking away abruptly, inadvertently towing Loki behind you.

As you put more distance between you and your former professor, the god heard a muffled sentiment from Simon to his companion. "Of course not, sweet thing, you know you're the only one for me."

There weren't many things that could catch the god off guard, but hearing those words from your former professor sent a slight chill down his spine, the confirmation of his initial suspicions written in black and white. Making him wonder now what your true history with the man that put both of you at a state of unease was.

"Darling, are you alright?" He held you closer to him as the crowd became denser, too many people surrounding you and pushing against you as you moved. "You're cold."

"I'm fine." He could barely hear you over the speakers. "I just need some air, I can barely hear myself think in here."

He didn't need to be told twice; this type of environment wasn't agreeable with him, either. Once you'd both stepped through the doors of the gymnasium and the air no longer tasted of alcohol and sweat, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"What was that for?" you breathed out, the dazed tone of your voice making him hold you just a touch tighter.

He hadn't the full picture of what had your fight or flight kicking in to an extent he'd never seen on you before, but he held faith that when you were ready, you would tell him. For now, he would do what he could to at least ease your discomfort.

"Can I not simply wish to hold you, my love?"

You briefly wrapped your arms around him, returning his embrace before you took a step away from him, smoothing your hands over your dress once more. "Come on. I wanna find the lab and be done with this mission. Get back to New York sooner rather than later and all that."

His heart splintered even worse in his chest, his suspicion that your stepping away from him was more than simply physical now. That the last fortnight that he'd spent sleeping in his own apartment devoid of the simplest pleasure of having you in his arms as he slept through the night would be how he'd be spending the rest of his nights moving forward. He was at a loss for what he could do to somehow amend your relationship moving forward short of locking you both in a room and offering an ultimatum.

Tell him how he could fix the rift that was caused by Thor's callous words, or tell him that what he feared had finally found its way into your reality. Tell him that there was nothing he could do to mend the damage and that things were truly over between you.

"As you wish, little mortal."

You led him through a search that was guised as an inebriated tour through your alma mater, going through each building with information that you'd either gathered there from firsthand experience from your college years, or from information you amassed looking through testimonials of various alumni.

"Ooh! Come on, I wanna show you something that might just make you proud." You made an entire performance of stumbling toward the god and reaching for his hand, guiding him with carefully choreographed steps backwards with a few planned near slip-ups where you seemed to trip on air and almost fall bum first onto the floor before catching yourself at the last second.

"Don't you know well enough by now, darling, that you constantly impress me?" he shot back at you with a chuckle, fighting every urge to lose himself in the ruse you were both putting on. He wanted more than anything to have this be akin to those films that your fellow teammates were so fond of watching, where the couple would find an empty classroom and proceed to kiss and paw at each other like animals in heat.

He'd found those scenarios so trite before, but he found himself admitting that he was more than open to the idea if the opportunity presented itself with you. He would be willing to do just about anything with you at his side.

"Come on, Mischief," you sing-songed, giggling your way to the heart of one of the buildings dedicated for the science-centric curriculum. "I'm taking to to the lab where we used to brew our own beer. Mix our own booze. You're gonna love it, it's like we were witches brewing potions in here--"

You play-acted your way to stumbling through the double doors of the laboratory, only to be met with resistance and the visual of a thick chain wrapped around the door handles. Immediately you righted your stance, the god signaling to you that he'd taken care of the security cameras. He'd chosen to feed them footage of the two of you indulging in one of those slightly risqué scenarios in the corridor.

With a wave of his hand, the chains materialized on the floor by Loki's feet, and you pushed the doors open to reveal exactly what you'd been looking for. The tables were littered with documents and notes that were watermarked with HYDRA's sigil, each designated work station housing its own compound that when put in the wrong hands, could be utilized in the most sadistic manners.

You went on to look into the filing cabinets that held more research reports while he rounded the table that held the compound surrounded by the most amount of notes scribbled on to the logo-branded papers. He felt the bile rising steadily up his throat at the findings.

Subjects that are exposed to this compound even in its aerated form will feel an intense emotional attachment to the closest set of pheromones within their vicinity, enslaving them to the holder for an indeterminate amount of time. Potency strengthens if the compound is ingested. Theoretically catastrophic potency if somehow introduced directly into subject's bloodstream. Effects inconclusive if holder severs the emotional attachment before the compound has had a chance to be flushed from subject's system, but theoretically, the more potent the remaining dosage that is yet to be metabolized, the more catastrophic the aftermath.

"Darling, they might be experimenting on these students," Loki said grimly, rushing over to you the moment he spotted how much paler your knuckles became from how hard you were gripping the countertop. "What's wrong?"

"There are reports dating back to before you even got to Earth," you told him, the shakiness of your tone at its worst as you tried to speak through the tears bubbling up inside you. "Back to when I was still here."

He thumbed through the report that you were perusing and had to fight every urge to set fire to the entire operation and lay waste to the names that he'd found on the user tests. The most frequent one being the man that he had the displeasure of meeting earlier, Simon Richardson. "These other names, were they your other professors?" You only nodded. He didn't know whether to be relieved or even more horrified realizing that the subject names were kept confidential, hidden under monikers such as "Subject 12-29-A", "Subject 12-29-B" and so forth.

"I think the first number's the year. 12 is 2012. And the second number might be a batch number." You took a few deep breaths before straightening your stance and looking for the nearest computer, fiddling with the comms bracelet that Shuri had equipped you with before you left New York. "Shuri, are you there?"

"I am here, I am here. How is the college party? I have never actually been to one since--"

"Since you're so smart you should probably be teaching these classes, I know I know." A bit of your liveliness came back speaking with the young genius. Loki could even hear a slight smile in your voice. "Could you pull off a remote duplication? I wanna get these experimentation reports to you guys so that we can already start on next moves before Laufeyson and I even get back to New York."

"Does the sun rise in the East, my friend?" The Wakandan princess began to laugh from her end of the call, the sound filling the room. "Put your bracelet near the device and let me do my magic." You did as she instructed, holding your wrist near the computer's power source and a few short moments later, she spoke again. "All done. We will see you when you get back."

"Thanks, Shuri. We'll wrap it up here. I'll see you guys in the morning."

As you shut off your comms and both of you proceeded to place things back exactly where you found them, ensuring that you lessened your chances of HYDRA suspecting anyone had rifled through their research, there was yet another thought that led to a pit forming in Loki's stomach.

What if one of the test subjects in those reports was you?

Loki laid awake, restless, in bed since you both got back to your suite, doing his best to somehow induce slumber upon himself so that he wouldn't have to fight against his mind wandering back to those reports, wondering if one of the subjects that was detailed within those pages could be referring to you. As well as fighting against the parts of him that feared you were pushing him away, forcing his hand into letting you go even if that was the last thing he would ever wish to do.

He had to make a note to give that oaf Thor a swift stab for so thoroughly jeopardizing what could have possibly been the best thing to happen to him. He was more than content with you, he was happy. He could picture what a future with you would be like.

And yes, it would be nice if your relationship would have a physical aspect to it, but that was no dealbreaker for the god. He didn't need it right this second, and for you, he would wait until you reached that level of comfort with him. At your own pace.

He would wait. Even if it meant he waited forever.

Yet here you both were now, sleeping in separate beds in separate rooms all because you believed that he would be better off with someone who had no compunctions on disrobing with him at a moment's notice. He could already feel you slipping away despite how desperately he tried to hold on to you.

The sound of your unrest had him sitting up on his bed, a series of whimpers and cries being heard from your bedroom. What got him darting out and bursting through your door, however, was your scream of "Please no I've been good to you! Why would you do this to me?!"

In a heartbeat he was by your side, cradling you against his chest and trying to wake you from your nightmare. "Shh shh, little mortal, you're safe, please wake up."

"I never told a soul I don't even look at you when there's other people please don't leave me," you kept whimpering, your words hitting the god like bullets straight to his heart. Were you having a nightmare about him?

"I'm here, my love, please. I'm not going anywhere just please wake up," he pleaded desperately, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he pressed multiple kisses to your templed. "I'm here I'll never leave you. Please darling, I love you."

You finally began to breathe a bit slower in his arms, moving so that you were looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Loki?"

Had he been on his feet, the sight of you so distraught would have brought the god to his knees. "Oh my sweet mortal." He cupped your face, wiping your tears away before he pressed a kiss between your brows. He wordlessly maneuvered you into his arms so that he could carry you out of bed and into the kitchen area, fetching you a glass of water.

"I can't--" You sounded as if you were trying to speak through a lump in your throat, more tears falling from your eyes. "I can't talk about--"

"No, darling, it's alright." He placed his hands on your shoulders, trying to guide you into evening out your breaths. "You don't need to tell me anything you're not ready to."

"I want to," you insisted, keeping your eyes glued to the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. "I just--I can't bring myself to say the words, but I need you to know…why. Why I can't--" You cut off with a squeak, gripping the sides of your stool so tightly he feared the metal would start hurting you, so he took them into his hands instead. "Why I can't be with you…physically."

"Darling, please I've told you I don't need--"

"No, you should know. I…I need you to know. I just can't…articulate the words." You started breathing the same way that you would when you would run with the rest of the team, as if your body was compensating for lack of oxygen the best it could. Or as if you were preparing yourself for something particularly uncomfortable. "But I can show you."

"Y/N what are you--"

"I want you to look into my memories. I want you to see. And understand what I can't tell you with words."

He framed your face with his hands, urging you to look at him before he followed through with your request. "Are you absolutely certain, my love?" You just stared at him with your red-rimmed tear-stricken eyes, the surrender and pain in them breaking his heart more than your stoic monotonous attitude from the past weeks ever could. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. "Alright."

He pulled up a seat close to yours, bracing himself for what he would find once he entered your memories. He was terrifyingly right to have done so, because the moment he was hit with the torrents of memories, he would have been brought to his knees had he been upright.

You're such a bright young lady. Such a shame that your peers refuse to see that. How about we grab a cup of coffee? Enjoy it in the faculty area? It'll be way more comfortable than sitting on the floor for the next three hours.

I was supposed to have dinner with some of the other professors but the weather in their area has them stuck at home. Would you like to join me instead? It'd be a shame for the reservation to go to waste.

Loki had to fight back the urge to retch as the visual of Simon Richardson leaning in to kiss you hit him next. And the distant attitude that he extended to you the following day on campus as you crossed paths in the hallway.

It won't be wise for us to be seen together or else people are going to start suspecting something going on. I'll get into trouble, just because we love each other. Of course I love you, silly sweet thing, you're the only one I've ever felt this way for.

He saw multiple occurrences of the professor dropping your hand the second someone even unfamiliar to either of you rounded the corner, a guilt eating away at him as he realized he'd done the same thing with you. He simply didn't want you to have to be exposed to the judgment from the team for being involved with him.

Nobody can know. It has to be our little secret. You understand, don't you? How about we go away somewhere for the weekend? Just you and me? Somewhere where we can actually be a couple. Do couple things. We could walk around and hold hands without being scared of getting caught. I could kiss you whenever and wherever. We could just be…us.

Loki wanted more than anything to look away from the memories of your first night with Richardson. From the way that he was so careless with your body, so ignorant of your pleasure and yet he mumbled empty sentiments of love all throughout the night, insisting that he loved you despite his eyes staying empty. Calculating.

And just a few short weeks after that, and a few more nights spent at his place, you went to campus one morning. And he'd begun to go out for coffee with another student. Someone from the batch of freshmen that had just come in. Your messages went unanswered, your calls were met with the generic voice message prompt.

He discarded you once he had what he desired from you, and foolishly concluded that he could do better.

As if there was anyone better.

When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred from his own tears, the guilt steadily wearing him down as your explanation hit him as if they were bricks being catapulted his way. Was this the reason you were so hesitant to share his bed? You were afraid that once he claimed your body, he would replace you with another?

Your words from two weeks ago haunted him. If you want to be with someone else, just promise me you'll tell me and leave me first.

"My love," he choked, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I could never do something so vile. Not to you. Never to you. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," you answered weakly, your sniffles breaking him even more. "You didn't know." You made a motion to move out of his arms, the fear seeping into him again that you were going to completely pull away again, making him hold on to your hands tightly. Desperately. "Come on, we have to get some sleep. We're going back to New York in the morning."

"Do you wish to be alone?" He could barely form the words, desperately pleading silently for you to allow him to stay with you tonight.

"No," you confessed, shifting nervously where you stood. "But I don't want you to feel obligated because of what you saw--"

"I won't leave you." The words came out of him in a rush, his lips quivering as he pressed a kiss to your forehead again, trying to calm himself. Trying his best not to march his way back to campus and personally see to it that that wretched excuse of a man not only paid for what he'd done to you, but ensure that he would never do this to another innocent unsuspecting woman ever again.

Trying to remind himself that his need to ensure that you were alright at this moment was greater than his desire to have Simon Richardson's head on a spike.

"You say that now, but we know that one day you're going to be tired of waiting. You have needs--"

"I need you more. I want you more," he insisted, burying his nose in your hair, your presence keeping him grounded. "I promised you I would spend my days proving my devotion to you. I more than intend to keep this promise. I am yours, precious little mortal." He kissed a path to your ear. "All I want at this moment is to stay with you tonight. Let me hold you. Let me try to fight your night terrors away."

It was as if a weight was lifted off his chest when you wordlessly nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him carry you back to your bedroom.

Loki held you through the night, relieved that you didn't stir in his arms or show any sign that you might have fallen into another nightmare. However, the god was now haunted by a memory of his own. One from the first few days of your relationship.

Darling, I think it best that perhaps…we don't tell the others quite yet that we've become involved. Grant ourselves the privacy that they won't.

His own words echoed in his mind, taunting him of the monumental mistake he'd made asking you to agree to such selfish terms. How he enforced that agreement by committing actions that eerily echoed the very memories that haunted you now.

He remembered the look in your eyes when he uttered those words, asking you to aid him in hiding your relationship away from the rest of the team. When he closed his eyes he could see the crestfallen expression on your face so vividly, making him despise himself for ever causing you to mar your features with that pain you tried to hide from him.

And finally…the realization that gutted him. You never agreed to those terms. All you said in response was "That makes sense".

You simply surrendered.

"I'm so sorry, my darling mortal," he spoke into the darkness, holding you just a fraction tighter, fearing that if he let go even in the slightest, you might slip away from him. "I'll make things better. I will do right by you, I swear it."

A/N: Lemme just…slide a dagger Loki's way real quick. 😤😤

And lemme offer this as my apology for this chapter…

I can promise u that Simon will get what's coming to him in the final part of this story. And I can promise that Loki will in fact make things right with his bb 🥺🥺

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @cabingrlandrandomcrap

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hello hello!! You're probably swamped with asks, but if you have the time and energy, you should do a slow burn Alastor x reader set in the 1920s where the reader is a performer at mimzys speakeasy and that's where Alastor goes to chose his victims. He sees the reader for the first time and immediately thinks that they are his next victim but he keeps getting thwarted by small incidents, such as the reader leaving early and him barely missing his chance. After a while he notices small things about them and their personality after sort of observing them, and then they meet and he loses his interest in killing them. Of course the slow burn happens, the drama ensues, he's still a killer but keeps it a secret and then after a while the reader finds out. You can choose if you want a happy ending or not, but I had that idea in my mind and your one of the only writers I see that could do it justice. Thanks for sharing your talents!!! Your amazing and gifted in ways that inspire everyone who interacts with your blog🫶🫶🫶

A/N You’re literally so sweet?? Wtf?? I love you?? Thank you??? I hope you like what I did with this fun and fluffy idea!!! ahhhhhh!!!! also, I am running with the ambiguity of the ending. I am such a little slut for ambiguity.

Burn (Human!Alastor x Human!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN. SLOW. BURNING IMAGERY. A LITTLE OVER THE TOP ON THE BURNING IMAGERY THING. Dead bodies, blood, murder, killing, mentions of stalking. This one got away from me a bit.

Word Count: 4,197

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Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.

The box of matches pulled from the pocket had been Alastor going to the bar, all those months before. Nearly a year now, once he sat and really thought about it. He had been going to Mimzy's little speakeasy on the outskirts of town since it had been just that, a little speakeasy on the outskirts of town rather than the full fledged, illegal club she ran today.

Back when it was a speak easy, there had never been a problem. On that fateful day, though he hadn't known it then, the club had changed its form. It had become the kindling. Sitting down at the table had been pulling a match from the box and Y/n.... Y/n had been the rough hewn striker paper he lit it on. It was all so obvious now, looking back. The expression 'hindsight is 20/20' existed for a reason.

So, Alastor had entered the club (matchbox out of pocket). As soon as Mimzy had spotted him, she had run over with a bright smile and a glass of whiskey on the house as always. Alastor had always liked Mimzy. She was wild and positively hilarious when she wanted to be but, at the same time, she had a good head for business. Her morals were just wobbly enough that Alastor felt comfortable with her, a camaraderie he felt with no other.

The lights had gone down suddenly and Mimzy, cutting herself off mid sentence, had turned to the stage in excitement.

"Good show tonight?" Alastor had asked.

Alastor never came to Mimzy's club for the music. She knew he didn't care, not really. Still, he had the curtesy to ask and so, she whipped back towards him.

"You betcha." she grinned up at him, "I just got this new kid? Came from all the way up north, can you believe that? Anyway, they have a set of pipes like you wouldn't believe! Just the bees knees, I tell you."

Grabbing Alastor's arm, Mimzy dragged him to a table by the stage. Alastor sat down across from her (match from the box) with an air of mild reluctance. Mimzy tapped her hands on the table impatiently.

A spot light flickered on and a scrawny young kid stepped onto the stage. He couldn't be much younger than Alastor or Mimzy themselves but he was one of those people that always look younger than they are. He had been working for Mimzy for a while now but, Alastor had never bothered to learn his name. He was simply 'Mimz's Manager' in his view of the world. The kid cleared his throat, leaning in towards the microphone which had been placed at center stage.

"How are we feeling out there tonight?" he asked the room at large and there had been a miscellaneous cheer from the room at large, "Well that's good to hear! We've got a real treat for you tonight folks. All the way from the Big Apple, we bring you, Y/n!"

The kid left the stage and a new figure stepped out from the shadows (revelation of match striker paper). The minute Alastor saw them, in the well cut suit that shone dark in the light, he knew. They were perfect. Slim, but not too fit and shorter than he was. Morally ambiguous enough in their aims that they had come running from New York to work at a speakeasy. This 'Y/n,' if that was even their real name, was his ideal next victim. Alastor smiled in the dim light as somewhere off stage, a piano began to play.

"I'll be loving you, always" the person sang and Alastor was taken aback.

Mimzy had been right. He had never heard a voice like it before. They sang with an emotional depth that could be heard from few. Somehow, they still managed to keep it sounding like music.

"When the things you plan Need a helping hand I will understand, always, always"

Mimzy leaned across the table to Alastor, her eyes alight.

"What did I tell you?" she whispered.

Alastor nodded his head to the side in vague agreement.

"Not for just an hour Not for just a day"

When they finished their set a half hour later, it was to raucous applause. The house lights raised and with them, Mimzy stood from her chair.

"I'll be back in two shakes." she promised before disappearing off into the crowd.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight. Contemplatively, he took a sip from his drink. The time before a kill was nearly as an enjoyable as the act itself. It was ritualistic, it brought him closer to god.

Before he knew it, Mimzy was back, dragging the singer behind her. They looked slightly frazzled, their hair a bit messy and their brow furrowed.

"Mimzy!" they exclaimed as they struggled to keep up with the woman holding their wrist in her vice-like grip.

Their speaking voice was... different than Alastor had expected. From the way they had sung on stage, he had thought it would be sharp, loud, ebullient. Instead, it was rather soft. Alastor couldn't help but think of the creek out back of the house he had grown up in.

"Al, meet my new favorite!" Mimzy announced, coming to a stop beside Alastor.

"I..."

The situation had been unexpected to say the least. Alastor had had a long day. He hadn't come here to socialize, he came here to drink. Now, he was at a loss for words, the haze of sleep and irritation clouding his mind.

Y/n looked at Mimzy before fixing their gaze back on him. The took a step forward, fixing a smile on their face, and held out their hand.

"Y/n."

So it was their real name. The one they presented to the world, at least.

Alastor smiled, standing from his seat and taking their hand in his.

"Alastor."

They had a firm handshake. There was something authoritative about it, something just a bit too confident.

"Pleasure to be meeting you." they said.

"Quite the pleasure." Alastor nodded.

They broke contact and Y/n turned to Mimzy, suddenly seeming very tired.

"I'm gonna head, Mimzy." they hummed, their voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony surrounding them.

Before Mimzy could say a word against their statement, they were gone. The crowd sheltered them from sight almost immediately. After that night, Alastor started coming to the club a lot more often.

He always sat in the same seat, the table near stage left. It was right next to the exit. Anyone getting off the stage had to go right past him. It was a calculated choice. Step one of his little projects, so to speak, had always been learning more about his victims, finding out their patterns.

The problem was, Y/n never seemed to do the same thing twice. Every time Alastor would think himself ready, would ready everything for the action, something different happen. The first time, it had been that Y/n had simply managed to slip out earlier than normal. Mimzy was always introducing them to someone or another after their shows, delaying their departure. That night, it seemed, they had somehow been able to avoid the mayhem.

Another time, the problem had been that Y/n had stayed at the club too long. Alastor was a working man and once the clock hit midnight, it was time to cut his losses and go home. A third time, Y/n had just happened to call out sick the very night he had gotten everything back in order.

A month in, and Alastor was ready for his fourth attempt. He sat at his usual table, drinking his usual drink. When Y/n left the stage, he kept his eyes trained on them as always. It went like clockwork - Mimzy pulled them away, they tried desperately to escape and eventually, they succeeded. That was when everything went south again.

One second, Y/n was by the bar and the next? Gone. Alastor got to his feet, tossing a bill or two to the bar tender and disappearing out through the door. He was determined. Tonight had to be the night. If tonight wasn't the night? He was done. Alastor was not a foolish man, he knew when he was beat.

Quietly, nothing but the sound of cicadas and the occasional echo of a car from elsewhere in the city accompanying him, Alastor slipped down the ally he knew the club's back door let out into.

"There you are."

Alastor spun around.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Y/n leaned casually against the wall, the dark fabric of their dress blending softly with the night. When Alastor didn't reply, standing in their gaze like a deer in headlights, they stood themselves up and walked the step and a half it took for them to be face to face with him.

"I'd like it if you stopped following me. Or, trying to follow me. It's getting kind of old.'' (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Alastor resumed his composure. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he leaned forward, fixing a teasing grin onto his face.

"Oh, would you now?"

Y/n, much to his surprise, held their ground.

"Yeah, I would. Whats your interest in me anyways?"

Thinking on his feet had never been an issue for Alastor. Besides, he really did have some questions for the illusive singer. Or, he had one question for them. One that might lead to others.

"Oh, you know." he hummed, straightening back up, "All the way from the 'Big Apple.'"

Y/n scoffed at his parody of their nightly introduction to the stage. They crossed their arms, glancing off to the ally's entrance as a drunk couple stumbled by.

"Yep."

"Why?"

Turning to face him again, Y/n narrowed their eyes.

"Why do you wanna know?"

The hint of an accent. At least he knew they weren't lying about where they came from.

"I suppose you can call me a curious fan."

"I think being a bit less of both those things would suit you."

They fell into a brief, nearly uncomfortable silence. Letting out a sigh, Y/n was the one to break it.

"Look," they began, "I know you're friends with my boss and all but... I am going to go back into that dive and I am going to stay there until you are long gone. I'll stay the night if I have to, d'ya get it?"

Alastor's smile tightened.

"Loud and clear."

"Good."

Y/n didn't see Alastor for another week. Slowly, the tension that had permeated their every waking moment since meeting Alastor that first night, the constant ache of his eyes on their back, began to fade. Just a little, but it was enough. When they saw him sitting at the bar almost two weeks after their little altercation, the amount it had faded was just enough to make them angry at his return.

Alastor hadn't really meant to come back. His plan was to give it a month, maybe even two. His plan was to come back and resume life like it had been before he had ever even known Y/n existed. His mind had other plans.

He had tried to find another target, occupy himself with a new victim. There was something unsatisfying about it, he couldn't quite get his head in the game. Every time he went to trail a potential victim, he heard their voice ringing out in the silence of his mind.

There you are.

Alastor had been killing for about three years now. He had a good number of victims under his belt and was in no ways a newbie. Even back when he had been one, no one had ever caught him out like that before. There had been a couple close calls, sure. There always were but waiting for him? Thwarting his plans repeatedly? Beating him at his own game?

"I thought I told you to leave me alone."

Alastor looked up from his glass of whiskey, smiling politely up at Y/n. He could feel the anger radiating off them in waves.

"Mimzy would be rather sad if I just up and disappeared like that, no explanation."

He caught sight of her across the open space and waved. With a bright smile, Mimzy waved back before returning to the conversation she had been embroiled in. Alastor turned back to Y/n.

"Oh, wouldn't you hear that? You're getting sober. Congratulations."

"Ah, but there is still the music and that wonderful new singer who came down from up north not too long ago."

Y/n took a deep breath, calming themselves.

"It's not that hard of a question to answer. Or at least, it shouldn't be for most people. What, are you on the run from the cops? I heard life is oh so dangerous in those big cities up there, after all. Maybe part of the reason was you."

"If I answer your question, will you leave me alone?"

Alastor was silent for a short moment before he replied.

"If I like the answer? Sure. I'll leave you alone."

In a single, sharp movement, Y/n dragged the stool beside him out and sat down. Tapping their fingers on the table, they got the bartender's attention and ordered themselves a drink.

"You want to know why I left New York?" they hummed thoughtfully, "It's because of guys like you."

A shock of sudden nerves fought through Alastor's system. Did they somehow know? After all this time, had someone figured it out? After just under two months?

"Guys like me? What ever on earth do you mean?"

"You know, pretty boys. Pretty boys who turn out to be creepy boys that don't know the meaning of the word 'no.'" (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

It wasn't the first time Alastor had been called pretty or handsome or something of the like. In fact, he knew he was pretty. It was part of why the whole ruse worked. Normally, however, when people told him he was, it was accompanied by far too much blushing and looks to the side. Y/n held his gaze firmly the whole time.

"So, you're escaping an ex? A jaded lover?"

"A jaded 'someone-who-watched-me-perform-once-and-decided-it-meant-we-were-married'? Yeah."

The bartender placed the drink in front of Y/n. They picked up the glass, downing it in one go. They grimaced.

"You like my answer?"

"Hmmm... no." Alastor grinned, ear to ear, "I don't think I do."

Y/n sighed.

"What is it you want from me?"

Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He was very good at keeping the inside from showing on the outside. The question had just caught him so off guard, or maybe it was something about Y/n that had him on his toes, he couldn't help it. They kept seeming to make his head spin.

"Want from you?"

"Money? Sex? Fame? A fall guy? What."

"I don't want anything from you." (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Y/n eyed him suspiciously. The answer had been automatic. Alastor himself was struggling to comprehend the words that had left his mouth. He wanted to kill them, right? What he wanted from them was their life, right? That was what he had been working for over all these days, fighting for. He knew it was true so why did the statement not feel like a lie as it had traveled from his tongue?

"Yeah right." Y/n placed their hands on the bar, pulling themselves to stand, "I totally believe that."

"Just your time, Songbird. Just your time."

They turned to him.

"I don't understand you."

"You don't have to. I don't understand you either."

They paused.

"It frustrates me." Y/n admitted, "Who even are you? I don't know anything except your name."

Alastor gave their now empty chair a pointed look. Y/n stood in contemplation for a few seconds before they nodded their head once, seemingly to themselves, and took their seat once again. Confidently, they tapped two fingers on the lip of their empty glass.

"Another."

(match strikes paper, match lights.)

Alastor was the match, Y/n was the paper. The club stopped being kindling the moment the pair took their conversation outside its boundaries for the first time, about a month or so later. For a while, there was no kindling, there was just match and paper. Alastor liked it that way.

It had been hard enough to come to terms with the fact that he really did have no interest in killing them anymore. That the moment such an idea occurred, he could see them in his minds eye, smiling or picking at the hem of their shirt the way they did when they were nervous.

The kindling reappeared when Alastor realized the match had been struck in the first place. That was a whole other thing. The friendship suddenly seemed easy, the loss of bloodlust directed toward them was like nothing in the face of a realization like that. Once he recognized the flame, Alastor stopped being a match and Y/n stopped being paper. The match became the little flutter of their stomachs when they caught sight of one another, the tension of the moments where they could make contact. Y/n and Alastor were kindling now and they were standing oh so very close to that dangerous flame.

It was Alastor's sleeve that caught fire first. It happened when they had gotten caught in the rain. Y/n had opened their umbrella and, seeing Alastor had none, insisted he join them in its cover. Alastor had, of course, refused. With a roll of their eyes, they had grabbed his hand and yanked him forcefully into place beside them. Alastor hadn't realized they had only touched once, when they first shook hands, until Y/n's skin made contact with his once again.

The worst part about it all, was that it made sense. It made so much sense. They were quiet, contemplative, and calculative. Before long, being with them felt like being with an extension of himself in an odd way. Alastor couldn't quite describe it, he didn't have the words.

Y/n always seemed to notice things no one else did. When Alastor had forgotten his umbrella the next three or four times it had rained, they had confronted him.

"Almost like you're doing this on purpose." they had hummed softly.

Though they didn't look at him, Y/n knew Alastor was blushing.

"Shut up."

The next thing to catch had been Y/n's collar. Y/n had been chatting with him, sharing a drink before their set and they had lost track of time. At the sound of the stage manager, Alastor still did not know his name, beginning their introduction to the stage, they had jumped up in fright, hurriedly tightening their tie which they had loosened in the casual atmosphere. Noticing that the action had caused part of their collar to fold awkwardly, Alastor had gotten to his feet as well. With a gentleness he had not made use of since his mother died, he had fixed Y/n's collar.

"Wh-" they had stopped mid question, having realized what he was doing.

His hand lingered on their collar. Y/n's eyes traveled up his arm, at last meeting his own.

"Thank you."

Those big wide eyes, full of curiosity and comfort. Alastor could get lost in those.

"Y/n!" the stage manager announced.

"Shit!" they exclaimed and the magic of the moment was broken as they pulled themselves away.

All it took was that. It wasn't much but, fire has a way of working with what it has. When a few days later Y/n had stepped out into the street without looking, being too caught up in the story they were telling Alastor, and he had pulled them back just as a car passed, it was too late. The house couldn't be saved, the flames had gone too far. A few blocks later, after thanking him, Y/n had realized they were still holding hands. They stopped, pulling Alastor to a halt beside them.

"What are we doing?"

"We're going for lunch. Are you quite alright? You were the one who sugge-"

"No, Alastor. I mean: what are we doing?"

Alastor followed the path of their eyes to their interlaced fingers.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was a pause. The world turned around them.

"I don't... I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Alastor took a deep breath before braving the sight of their bewildered and slightly saddened face once again.

"I said all I wanted was your time."

"That's the problem."

Y/n let go of his hand, running their own through their loose hair.

"That's the problem, Alastor." they said again.

"What is?"

Y/n had a habit of telling him the most serious things eye to eye with a stoney demeanor. He was surprised to see them break from this confident custom of theirs as they looked away, their arms wrapping protectively around themself.

"I want more. I want you to want more."

Alastor was stunned, he was speechless.

"I... I'll see you tomorrow, Al."

Before they could make it more than a step away, Alastor grabbed their shoulder, spinning them to him. Y/n looked up at him, confusion painting their features with the most delicate brush.

Alastor struggled, he fought. Still, there were no words.

"Don't you get it?" he asked, "I want your time. Y/n, I want you."

Alastor kept finding himself in trickier and trickier situations. First there had been trying to kill them, then the hurdle of not wanting to kill them. Friendship had given way to its own bag of worms and now that they were more than friends?

He had thought that it all would stop. He had thought that if things ever worked out the way they had, everything would be okay. He had forgotten his nature.

At first, hiding the killings was just as easy as it had been before. It did not stay that way. Alastor was good at hiding things, always had been. That wasn't the issue. What was the issue was that he cared about Y/n, he didn't want to hurt them. Keeping secrets... well, his mother had always told him that no one ever fools anybody. His mother was a wise woman. His mother had been right.

Y/n had stopped by as a surprise. They had a home cooked meal in a basket and a bag over their shoulder full of records they thought he would like. When they stepped into the foyer of Alastor's large, garden district home, they had called their usual greeting.

Alastor's heart had stopped at the sound of their voice. He froze, his cleaver still firmly wedged between the shoulder and chest of the man he was chopping into pieces for easier disposal. Hoping it was his mind playing tricks on him, he waited. They called again.

"Al! I have a surprise for you! The surprise is me! And also? I made you dinner. Come out! I know you're home!"

Under any other circumstances, them showing up like this would have filled him with unbridled joy. However, it wasn't any other circumstances. It was these circumstances. Alastor was covered in another man's blood. There was a body just a few rooms from his beloved. Either way, they would find out the truth. They were a nosey thing, always so inquisitive.

"Alastor!" he heard them call again.

They were closer now, much closer. He watched in a mixture of horror, despair, and a twinge of excitement as the doorknob jiiggled.

"Alastor?"

How would Y/n react to such a sight? Would they cower in fear? Was their love alone enough to hold them here, to tie them to him in loyalty? Would they run to the cops? Would they cry? Would they ask to help? Would he have to kill them too?

It was sickeningly delightful, all the unknowns. His heart pounded violently in his ears. The door swung open.

"There you are!"

Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.

"My dear! How wonderful to see you."

----

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Sorry if the end made you angry,,, I just think the not knowing is so much more fun!

Also the song is "Always" by Irving Berlin.

[jeanmoreautemple]

what characters are you hoping to see more of in the second and third book?

Sorry for the wait! Welcome back

Basically anyone with a meaningful relationship with Jean. Besides Jeremy Cat and Laila there’s:

1. Kevin ofc. That interview is gonna be T E N S E. Will he find out about Grayson? Did Neil tell him? Will we get a confirmation about how much he knew about what was Riko doing to Jean? I’m very scared.

2. Neil. Cause I’m actually invested in the mafia plot line. This guy just arranged a murder for Jean too. Maybe some more info on Elodie through Stuart. I want them to start texting.

3. Lucas. I know he’s a brat and was being a piece of shit out of jealousy and hurt but idgf, I need him to crawl and beg for Jean’s forgiveness once he finds out about what his brother had been doing to Jean. Someone on this hellsite brought up that he might be given Grayson’s possessions after his “suicide” so he might find some form of evidence, like a video or pictures. I’m scared.

4. Thea. Will she find out about those backliners she played with? What they did to her Parisian duckling? How will she feel about calling it Jean’s “old tricks”? Cause it’s not a “no harm no foul” situation anymore. I hope Nora just starts suing people who harass her online and finally tells the story she wants to tell about Thea.

5. Rhemann + other Trojans. I need Jean to have a good adult figure for once. Wymack has his hands full. Excited to see all those named NPC Trojans come to life and adopt Jean.

6. Grayson and Zane + other ravens. Wanna see them pay.

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Seven: Uncharted Territory

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: The day has finally arrived! Getting to know your newfound family and friends a little more on your special day, you try to forget everything that’s troubling you.

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Cursing, Teasing, Sexual Inferences, Hurtful Comments, Reckless Driving(?)

A/N: Though it's been awhile, I still have my layout for the plot points I want to hit and make sure happen within the final few chapters of this part in the series. This chapter has been super fun for me to write though, and I'm excited for all the characters that are being introduced! It's been hard trying to fit all the info into the last four chapters which is why it's taken so long.

“Woah…” stunned into silence, your eyes trail up the giant woman before you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Koriand’r.” Met with green eyes, you can’t help but stare in utter astonishment and amazement. Not only is she orange-skinned, but she has neon green eyes, super long flowing reddish hair, and is tall… but she’s also super toned. “Is… there something wrong?” She looks to Dick who stands beside her, a hand on the small of her back.

As Dick opens his mouth to speak on your behalf, you beat him to it. “Like the seed?” Though you'd attempted to make a joke on behalf of her name in an attempt to ease things, an awkwardness settles in the air before you speak again. “I-I just… haven’t met anyone like you before,” you mutter, still in a daze. With a shake of your head, you try to gather yourself. “You’re so tall… and pretty.”

A chuckle leaves her lips and her perplexed expression quickly turns into a smile. “Thank you,” she says your name and places a warm hand on your shoulder, “I believe I owe you a congratulations for surviving another revolution around the sun?”

“I-it’s 'Happy Birthday', Kori,” Dick reminds her, an amused and somewhat flustered look appearing on his face. A hand comes up to the back of his neck to rub at it. "Though, I suppose that's also not technically wrong," he mumbles to himself.

“Happy Birthday, then,” she repeats, eyes sincere as she returns your smile. After a moment she spots something behind you, as she suddenly squeals out an ‘ooh!’ before taking off. Both you and Dick watch as she examines and plays with a spiral straw within one of the colorful cups adorning a nearby table.

“Oh!” Dick calls your name again, tearing your attention away from the confusing sight you’d been observing. “These are my friends, Gar, and Rachel,” he introduces, patting them on the shoulders. “No Victor?”

“He… didn’t think this was the best place, you know, pool party—not to mention he got called off to Mogo with-“ Rachel whispers to Dick, though your attention is more drawn to their hair.

“It’s actually Garfield, but my friends call me Gar,” he extends a hand, to which you happily shake. “I hear it’s your birthday? How old are you turning?”

With a nod, you reply. “Sixteen.”

“Oh, boy! I remember those days,” Gar announces with a laugh, his arms stretching upward before one of them comes down to wrap around Rachel’s shoulder. “What a time.” Dick departs the conversation with a small wave in your direction as he walks toward Kori.

“Heh, yeah. Crazy… that’s for sure,” Rachel comments, her eyes only register you then when they turn from Gar onto you. They’re purple. “Happy Birthday! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Rachel. I hope it’s okay Dick invited us. We left your present on the present table. We weren’t really sure what you’d like-“

“-Had no clue, in fact!” Gar comments.

“-but we left a gift receipt in case you don’t. I know we just met, but Dick mentioned you guys didn’t get off on the best foot, and… I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.” Raven finishes. One of her hands wrapping itself around the elbow of her other arm.

“Yeah, Dick can totally be a--well--you know, a dick sometimes,” Gar jokes. “Seriously though. He means well, but it just takes time to get used to him.”

“Thank you so much. You… didn’t have to get me anything, but thank you… and it means a lot,” you respond, an appreciative smile on your lips as you place a friendly hand on her shoulder. “I love your guys’ hair by the way, super cool.”

“Hey, thanks!” Gar speaks, while Rachel simply smiles appreciatively.

————

Though your Father, Alfred, Jason, and Dick kept pestering you about your upcoming birthday for the weeks leading up to it, you can’t deny that the scene before you does anything but warm your heart.

The man you now know as ‘Uncle’ Clark—even if you don’t entirely feel quite comfortable enough to call him that yet—flips burgers on the grill making idle conversation with your Father. The usually prim and proper infamous Gothamite Playboy is nursing a beer in his hand, and for once, is actually dressed in what you’d classify as something fatherly. Sunglasses sit on the top of his quaffed hair, a playful blue short-sleeve button-up adorned with flamingoes screams the theme of today’s party.

You’d always wanted one as a kid, and while some had them at the local community ones, you never got the chance to. Now, with your own indoor and outdoors… a pool party was perfectly within the realm of grasp when Alfred asked what kind of party you’d wanted.

The butler had taken it upon himself to make the cucumber sandwiches that you’d discovered you actually enjoy this Independence Day when he’d made them. Much to the boy’s chagrin, you might add. Nevertheless, when you’d spotted them earlier in the kitchen, you’d given the older man a hug and smile, thanking him. Now he takes a break as he sits at the patio table in a high chair sipping at some fruity drink with a twisty straw, a little umbrella toothpick punctured into a piece of pineapple resting against the rim.

“So…. Which one’s him?” Your childhood best friend, Daisha asks. Quickly following her gaze, you see she’s onto the right group of people, at least. He’s there, all right. “If I didn’t know he was your brother, I would’ve guessed green shorts just based off type,” she verbally points out Damian with a chuckle and nudge to your side.

A scoff escapes you before you can prevent it. Hand flying to your chest, you make a face of disgust. “Eww… why you would say that-?!”

“Lemme guess- Superman shorts?” She teases, studying your reaction. “I was just kidding! Calm down. Geez!” You can't bear it, however, still disgusted even by the implication, you shake your head before finally gathering enough strength to shoot her dagger eyes. "Okay, so I'll take that as a 'no'. That leaves only one option left: orange shorts," she announces.

Lying on the pool float nearby, hands clasped across his stomach relaxedly, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, their blue orbs follow the same path that the girls' do. Listening on their conversation, Tim revels in the fact that it seems they haven't picked up on it, yet he's getting all the juicy information. "He's cute. Simple, but cute, I guess. It's his eyes, isn't it?" It's the way your friend, what was it... Daisha? He's pretty sure it was. Daisha says it in such a sure way that makes him almost burst out laughing. You refute it, but the way your cheeks darken a bit doesn't lie. He watches you splash her meekly before a little war ensues, sending you swimming away, finally calming once you're both sat in the little alcove by the random steps along the side.

Unfortunately, the both of you are out of earshot now. While he'd want to drop a foot into the water off the float and try to use it to get momentum to drift in that direction, it'd be too obvious. However, just as Tim decides he has to do so, Gar and Dick come splashing noisily in his direction quick. As they pass in their little show of bravado of 'who can swim to the other end there and back faster?' their strokes send a current of waves making his floatie rock and his body wobble as he grips onto the sides, eager not to fall in. After all, he's only just gotten warm. Luckily, however, it would seem someone really is looking out for him as momentum sends the floatie in the direction of the alcove.

"So where's your hot brother?" Daisha asks

“Ouch,” Tim comments, sucking in a breath between his teeth. He lowers his shades down the bridge of his nose, revealing bright blue eyes that stare down at the two of you. “I have to assume you don’t mean me, considering I’m right here,” he partially jokes, feigning hurt as he puts his hand over his bare pale chest. It’s only after an awkward moment of you two worrying you’d offended him that he laughs.

It’s contagious. Daisha laughs, meanwhile you can’t help but smile, eventually joining in. Even if your thoughts still course through the back of your mind. Had he heard your conversation? Would he tell? Would he even care? “It’s okay,” he speaks up again, breaking the silence. “I didn’t take it personally. Though I will say that whoever it is you do think is ‘the hot brother’ is can guarantee you isn’t worth it, sunshine,” he divulges with a scoff as he shakes his head, shades back up in their proper position.

“Oh,” Daisha quietly exclaims in surprise, scooting closer to the edge of the underwater ledge. “And what makes you say that?” She baits, knowing it’s a sort of tactic many can’t resist. Give someone room to vent, and eight times out of ten they’ll dish. As she leans closer, expectantly waiting with a mischievous smile upon her lips, you can’t help but perk up, somewhat interested in the prospect of hearing his opinion on the family and whatever secret sides you’ve yet to witness.

“You really want to know?” Tim baits her back, teasing her with a hint of teetering on the edge of juicy gossip. “Might tarnish your image of whoever it is,” he throws out there with a singsong voice, followed by a mock yawn for exaggeration.

“Well you can’t just say something like tha-” Daisha begins to argue, brows furrowing.

“I’d be curious to know,” you admit, voice waning in volume the longer you speak. Unsure whether indulging in gossiping behind the other brothers’ backs is a good idea in the long run. This garners his attention as he lowers his shades again to eye you, the only person who hadn’t chimed in until now. There’s a brief look of speculation before a smirk breaks across his face. Pushing the shades back so they’re resting atop his head, Tim returns his gaze forward as he looks across the yard.

“Well… say it’s Dick,” the boy proffers, “he and Kori are constantly on and off at best. That’s just a lot more drama than I’d want to deal with, personally, but if that’s your thing- be my guest.” Of course, you’re sure he isn’t actually advising Daisha to go off and start flirting with them considering your age gaps. You can’t deny the tidbits he’s only starting to divulge utterly capture your attention, however. “But if that’s not enough, he’s so… hot-headed. Either cool as a cucumber or a flaming douchewad”

“Honestly… I could see it,” Daisha comments with a tilt of her head as her eyes drift to the couple across the yard, talking on the patio with their other friends: Gar and Rachel.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed,” you respond. “Well, the first part anyways.”

“And if it’s Damian?” Tim scoffs again, a sort of laugh having mixed with it. “Forget about it! The little devil only cares if you’re an animal, and has no sense of a filter.”

“And lastly, if it’s Jason… well… then actually he’s probably your best bet. I mean, he’s sensitive, smarter than he looks, and is a good cook. Though he’s also somewhat impatient, righteous, and then there’s definitely the way that he’s more of a lone wolf, so… if you can put with that then, I guess by all means.” Tim chuckles as he shrugs, curious as to Daisha’s thoughts. As the girl looks over the party’s guests, she looks back at Tim with a dumbfounded look. Everyone has their red flags, you suppose.

————

Opening the back door, you tug your towel a little tighter around yourself as you try to keep it from falling. The empty platter you’d been asked to bring in by Mister Kent makes balancing the tasks tedious. Really, you’d wanted any task to get your mind off things, and perhaps go inside for a moment alone.

“Are you kidding me? You’re really going to fight this?!” Jason shouts. Finally raising your eyes to the scene before you in the kitchen, the men stand circled on the other side of the room behind the island.

“What? Like it caused a huge problem? She-” Dick scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like she has any friends! We were only trying to help,” Damian says. Hands settling on his hips, he tilts his head in triumph up at the group.

“Boys-” Bruce grits through his teeth. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Oh really?” Tim chimes in. “Because you were so thoughtful!”

“It’s her birthday,” Bruce adds on.

“Oh, like you were being thoughtful by inviting Clark and Diana,” Dick accuses Bruce, turning his attention on the older man. The slow movement of the empty platter in your hand onto the counter to your left catches his attention. Out of the corner of his eyes he spots you.

Bruce clears his throat and straightens his posture. “Actually, I-” he tries to clarify himself.

“Exactly! Took the words out of my mouth,” Tim comments pridefully as he turns his focus from Dick to Bruce.

“It’s not your party either! You don’t get a say,” Damian argues with Tim.

“Guys,” Dick calls, his eyes on you with a guilty look. His eyes linger on you.

“And you’re still arguing this,” Jason sighs.

Tim clears his throat, having spotted you along with Dick. Before the rest of the group catches on, Alfred comes in from the dining room directly to your right. “What’s wrong?” He asks you worriedly. The unexpected voice is what gauges everyone’s attention. As Alfred’s hand slips onto your shoulder as he looks down at your wet cheeks, he has a sympathetic look on her face. “What’s going on?” His kindness suddenly turns sour as he turns his attention onto the men before you.

“We-” Damian begins, but a pointed look from Alfred shuts him up. If anyone was going to give a valuable explanation of what truly aspired, it certainly wasn’t Damian.

“I was trying to point out how shitty it was that they all invited their friends when the party isn’t for them,” Jason elucidates with a cross of his arms over his chest.

“We just thought it might be nice for there to be more people,” Dick adds on, rebutting Jason’s point.

“Yeah, she only has one friend!” Damian chides exasperatedly.

Alfred puts his hand up, effectively shutting them all up from any further comments. “Well, quite frankly I am sorely disappointed in the lot of you. Each of you knew better and even if you had good intentions in mind, it is still Miss-” he says your name, “birthday, and yet you have all made her cry.”

With a shake of your head, you wipe the tears from your cheeks, no longer crying. “It’s okay! Really,” you protest, “I’m not crying because anyone invited anyone, I just…” head hanging a little, you sigh before facing Alfred again. “If there was anyone I really wanted here, it was my mom. I realized that… she’s not gonna be there for anymore of my birthdays. And she was always the one who was there.” Voice dwindling the longer you speak, you find yourself getting choked up again. So much so that you have to turn toward the door again, the bright and festive landscape just outside the screen a stark contrast to the dark shadow seemingly surrounding you.

You don’t know if the sudden quiet in the kitchen is appreciated or not compared to the fighting that’d been taking place just moments ago. Behind your back all the men give each other looks as no one truly knows what to do, how to make it better for you. Yet, the old man comes through once more. With a hesitant and gentle touch of his hand to your shoulder again, Alfred’s presence is known. Perhaps it’s the warmth in his touch that makes you feel somehow cared for, or the way he’d stuck up for you when you didn’t even know you needed someone to.

“May I offer you a tidbit I’ve been pondering on,” Alfred proposes quietly. While you don’t face him, you simply nod; wiggling your nose, you don’t want any of them to see this side of you, crying, nose starting to run. “I may not have known your mother, yet, from everything I’ve heard about her, I can surmise that… I believe she would be happy that you’re taken care of, and, that it looked like you were having fun today.”

He lets the sentiment linger in the air for a moment before ever so gently tugging on your shoulder, encouraging you to face him. “Would you say that’s at least a somewhat accurate assumption?” The old man questions, the inkling of a smile on his lips as he simultaneously looks you over. It’s hard to say, really, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind… yet, deep down you know he’s right. Lips curling in on themselves, you nod slowly.

“Yeah,” you quietly respond. “I just… didn’t think about her at all, until… now.” While you’d managed to quell the silent tears, the hard truth you hadn’t wanted to admit stirs something in your gut as your eyes begin to well up.

“Can I give you a hug?” Alfred asks, hand tacitly beckoning forth the men outside your peripheral vision. Tentatively you nod in response, which leads to the man enveloping you in his arms. Clearly he doesn’t care if your bathing suit or towel dampen him. The tears naturally fall, and you grieve the loss of your mother once again. Yet, somehow the burden is slightly lessened as you feel not one pair, but two, then three, then so many you’ve lost count begin to surround you. It’s somewhat suffocating, honestly, yet the knowledge that you’re not alone, and these people actually care for you is something that makes you feel exactly what he’d said: cared for.

When you finally all break off and head back outside, you find that falling back into the rhythm and excitement of the party is easy. Overall, it’d been a fun day! Seeing Lois Lane in a stunning one piece and gigantic sun hat was so unlike anything you’d ever seen before, not to mention that you’d gotten to play football with their son, Jon. Sure, maybe a part of it was to impress Billy with your skills, but you’d all had a blast! You’d also gotten to meet your Father’s closest friends. Getting to know Clark Kent better, he seems like a nice and fun guy. Diana Prince was definitely fun to talk to, her business in art restoration eliciting a lot of curious questions on your behalf. Then there was also the fact that she was just generally stunning and you wish you could know some of her beauty secrets.

Then there was Steph who showed up with another friend in tow: Connor. He was fun, offering for you to join them as they played a sort of makeshift Volleyball game in the pool. Surprisingly, your team of you, Connor, and Daisha won against Steph, Tim, and another friend who’d showed up later: Kara. You’d have thought she and Stephanie were practically twins if she hadn’t introduced herself. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay long and you didn’t really get the chance to talk to her all that much, but her cheery personality definitely uplifted the energy of the party.

Next, you finally were introduced to your apparent cousin who’d come late: Helena, as your Father introduced. She definitely appeared bougie from the looks of her, though that’s something you actually were impressed by, silently wishing to one day embody such an aesthetic. Lastly, Billy’s brother ‘intruded’ for a few minutes as his family had come to pick him up, the brother named Freddy exuding a whirlwind of excitement as he raved about your family’s legacy. You couldn’t deny he was funny, and you had wished he’d showed up earlier.

Lying in bed that night, you run over the day’s events and can’t help but feel that it was a definite success as you remember the way everyone had gathered around you with the lights turned off on the patio as they sang Happy Birthday to you. The wish had taken a moment as you hadn’t known what to possibly wish for, yet ultimately it came to you. Everyone made you feel utterly whole, and as you’d taken the time to talk to your mom’s picture later, informing her of the day’s events, you can’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe you’re making progress. It’d been a good day. Heck, a great day. You’d even gotten a few moments to flirt with Billy when Daisha distracted the other two with her words and charms.

The others’ birthdays pass in quick succession. Alfred and Jason have a joint birthday, the party lively and filled with a nice dinner and board games to follow. You’d been surprised by your Father’s talent at charades, while Damian’s struggle at Scrabble was somewhat illuminating.

Next is Damian’s birthday, which is everything you’d expect of a teen turning fifteen. Filled with his close knit of friends, you all enjoyed a day of laser tag, cake, and putting up with the birthday boy’s behavior. It wasn’t awful, but it’d been interesting to see the boy attempt to truly enjoy himself. Weirdly it seemed as though it came second nature for him.

————

Knocking on the door, you’re quickly met by someone unexpected. Lips parting in shock, your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Billy?” As the two of you stare at one another, it doesn’t take long for a bigger hand to wind up on the door, opening it wider.

“Aren’t you gonna invite her in?” Mister Kent asks with a chuckle. “Come on in,” he says your name. It elicits an appreciative smile, as you hadn’t thought he’d remembered, or that he cared, but apparently you were wrong. “You two know each other?” He asks, closing the door behind you as the two of you shuffle further inside.

“We’ve met,” Billy replies hesitantly, green eyes shifting over to meet yours. A sheepish smile sits on his lips.

“Briefly,” you add. “I just came by to pick up-“

“-Damian. Of course! No problem,” Mister Kent repeats your name, “we’re just setting the table. Do you want to help? The boys are out back, but we’re about to sit down and have dinner.” Upon this revelation, you’re confused as to why Billy’s here, nevertheless, you put on a gracious smile and nod your head.

“Sure!” You respond. Mister Kent shoves forks and knives in your hands, a stack of plates wedged in the crook of his arm.

“I’m assuming you’ll be joining us? Do you mind grabbing another set, Billy?” Mister Kent asks. “You showed up just in time!” With a smile in your direction, you feel a little embarrassed. Now you’re the one with a sheepish smile. Billy nods and heads into where you assume the kitchen is. As Mister Kent walks through the open doorway to the dining room, you find yourself feeling bad for having to turn them down.

“Alfred is actually making us something right now. I was just sent to pick up Damian, since I’m working on my driver’s license right now,” you reveal. With a thick swallow, you meet the man’s eyes with a saddened smile.

“Well, it’ll take at least an hour and a half to drive back, so what if you call up Alfred and tell him you’ll be late? No sense in him starting something when we’ve got plenty to share. Plus, I’m sure Jon would love to see you again.”

Mentally debating it, Mister Kent distracts you with another question. Multitasking, he starts putting down the plates and arranging the cups that were already on the table. “Also, if you only have your permit—forgive me,” he states your name, “-but how did you drive all the way here? Aren’t you supposed to have an adult with you to supervise?”

An awkward chuckle leaves your lips as your free hand comes up to rub at the back of your neck. “I did! Sort of… everyone else is away, so Alfred was the only one available and he was on FaceTime the whole time I was driving-“

“-so you were on the phone and driving the whole way here?! Absolutely not, I’ll-“

“-It was Alfred’s idea! Plus, he said he didn’t have time to pick up Damian and go with me for driving hours, so-“ You defend.

“-I still don’t see in any way how that’s a-“

“-Oh, hush now, Clark. She was obviously safe, and if anything were to happen then at least Alfred would be able to call someone, right?” A woman interrupts as she walks out from the kitchen holding a plate of corn cobs and a bowl of baked beans. Sliding around the big man, she places the items down on the table. Billy chuckles in the doorway of the kitchen as he watches the man capitulate to the woman’s defense.

“Right…” you slowly get out. Though it dawns on you who this is, now that you can see her face. “You’re Lois Lane! The reporter- the journalist from the Daily Planet!” It comes out before you can stop it, and you’re suddenly visibly in awe at the fact that you’re literally in the room with a celebrity.

“That, I am. I take it you’re a fan? I’m glad some kids are still into literature and current events in this day and age,” she responds, “lord knows so many kids are all about that tick talk now and all those different YouTube celebrities.” With a deep breath, she places her hands on the back of the chair at the head of their table.

“Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says your name, “I’ve heard so little of you I was beginning to think you were just a story my boys made up! Please, sit. We’re just bringing out the rest of the food. Don’t let Clark guilt you into helping him like he did, Billy,” she chides. With a laugh she heads back into the kitchen, sneaking around her husband once more.

“I did not guilt him,” Clark defends, “did I guilt you into helping me, Billy?” The man looks over at the boy leaning against the doorway’s frame watching the whole scene pan out before him. Suddenly with the attention on him, he jumps into action, placing the final setting in the last seat open at the table.

“I wouldn’t say ‘guilt’… though I did only come in to use the bathroom,” Billy responds, chuckling at the end as he tries to play his words off as a joke. “I don’t mind helping though. I have to do this every Tuesday night at home anyways.”

“Why Tuesdays?” Clark questions, finally standing up to his full height again as he’s done straightening the plates and cups.

A goofy smile emerges on the boy’s lips as he shrugs. “I don’t know, cause every other day was taken, I guess? I mean, there are six of us, so there’s not a lot of other days to choose from when they’ve all already picked, you know?” He jokes.

Processing all this new information, you’re still stunned that Lois Lane knew your name, and heard about you from the men. While you’d probably wonder what they’d told her any other time, Billy’s words have you wishing he’d say more, curious to hear more about him. “You… have six siblings?”

“Don’t you have, like, five?” He retorts, looking down at you from where he stands by the opposite head of the table Lois had been at.

“Touché,” you reply, “though to be fair, I didn’t know I had any till a few months ago, and… really I’m only related to one of them.”

“I guess that’s cool. I mean, I’m not technically related to any of my siblings so there’s that,” Billy comments.

Lois pesters Clark to sit down, so he heads to the other end of the table to sit at the other head. She lies a plate full of veggies and another with buns and burgers on them upon the table. “Would you guys mind getting the boys? Then let me know what you’d all like to drink.” As she heads back into the kitchen, you look from the man to Billy, who nods for you to follow him.

Rounding the wall cutout between the dining room and living room, you walk past their couch, coffee table, and television to the sliding glass door. “So… you’re getting your license?” Billy asks.

“Trying to,” you joke. As you brush your hair behind your ears, you listen as the boy goes on about summer coming to an end.

“You’re gonna be a… Senior?” He questions, turning his green eyes on you as he comes to a stop only a few meters from the house.

“Yeah! And you?”

“Same. I honestly can’t believe it,” he admits with a shake of his head. As the two of you linger there, eyes meeting and averting each other, he eventually draws his attention to the laundry hung up on the clothesline a yard in front of you. “Jon! Damian! Dinner time,” he yells between cupped hands.

Soon enough you’re all sat around the table. A prayer ensues before you all dig in, passing dishes around the table in a manner you’re more accustomed to than dinner at home. “Do you have any plans for the fall?” Lois asks you, your name falling off her tongue easily.

With a swallow of the corn in your mouth, you nod your head. “Well, Alfred has really been pushing for me and Damian to do something after school, like sports or something,” you begin, everyone’s attention falling onto you with intent expectation. “And I thought maybe it’d be fun to try out for the cheerleading squad. The tryouts are next week, so, I’ve been trying to practice and get ready.”

“That’s amazing! I hope tryouts go well,” Lois compliments. “Are you trying out for anything Damian?”

An annoyed scoff slips past his lips as the boy has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “No. I think not, though there are a few clubs that may have caught my intrigue. I doubt they’ll be up to standard but it’s worth scouting out the competition.”

“I’m joining Chess Club!” Jon adds.

“Well, these all sound like fruitful endeavors. What about you Billy?” Clark asks.

A thoughtful hum comes from the boy, even if he has his head downward on his plate, pushing the food around. “I’m not entirely sure yet.”

“Well, I know some sports stop taking people before the school year starts, and clubs fill up fast. So I’d check with the school to see what you can do! It’d definitely look good on your resume going forward,” Lois posits.

Continuing to indulge in idle conversation throughout dinner, soon enough it’s ended and of course Lois insists she can handle the dishes. Bidding the Kent family goodbye, Lois and Clark offer you a tight hug before stopping you at the door. “You’re welcome here anytime,” Clark states.

“We wanted you to know that. While we don’t know the entire circumstance of your situation, we wanted to let you know we’re here for you,” Lois expands.

With the warm sentiment and full bellies, you’re off. Still somewhat giddy that you’d gotten a hug from Billy, you try to memorize the feeling. You’d also gotten one from Jon, too, which was nice, but… you can’t help the way you feel about Billy. While Damian had vaguely put up a fight against you driving, it was his only option of getting home, so he acquiesced. Nevertheless, you’re feeling hopeful for the beginning of the new school year!

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo , @penelopepine

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee , @azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess , @no-lessthan3

[gothamdwellings]

How they are as exs! ~ Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Kate Kane.

Warnings: Mature! Mentions of stalking- no smut but still 18+ as always! Infidelity? No gender is mentioned for reader, but it may be insinuated reader is afab. Reader is insinuated to be oblivious to the crime fighting career. Bad grammar bc I suck

Dick Grayson is the type of ex to plan things out. He wants to get back with you, he really does. He’s changed, he promises! To show you how much he changed he convinced Wally to invite you to the annual cookout and Barry’s. Bruce didn’t attend, but he sent Dick in his place, and it was the ideal excuse to get his arm around you again. You’d get there and huff, seeing the raven-haired man throwing his arm around your mutual red-haired best friend. You’d only say hi to Wally, even using his full name to indicate you were upset. Soon Barry would come to ease the tension, the man could read a room! After a few beers you’d be open enough to talk to Dick, and his honey-sweet words and charming gestures would overtake you. By the end of the night you were in his lap around the campfire, and he was casually kissing your lips.

Jason Todd will text you, every so often. You swore his number was blocked, you swore the last five numbers he used were blocked, but he’s simply smarter than that. Using texting apps to message you, keeping his messages to you hidden from the world. His text come at the worst time. You’re at work, focusing hard on your task. Then it pops up, on the phone next to you that is supposed to be in your personal bag. You just needed a calculator, and now your heart is racing with both anxiety and excitement! You couldn’t lie, you missed him. Your current boyfriend couldn’t touch you the same, whisper those sweet nothings that made you feel like a goddess before her lost loyal disciple. You responded with great enthusiasm, and he replied with the same energy. Slowly, though, guilt and memories of the past seep in. His immaturity, his mommy issues, his abandonment problems. How clingy, manipulative, and mean he could be- the illusion all comes crumpling down, and soon you find your fingers reaching for the block button. Don’t worry, in a few months you’ll get another message. It’s been two years since the breakup—

Roy Harper is more toxic than the other two. He uses dumb excuses to run into you, going to the same bank, grocery store, gas station. He knows your area, he knows your car and your friends homes. He stalks you, a little bit, but will never be caught. He’s too smart. He’ll tug on your heart strings, messaging you on social media to send you pictures of his cat. (I believe Roy is a cat man.) he’ll say something dumb like ‘we miss you, baby.’ Just reading those messages makes you putty. You’ll persist, and he likes that about you. He’ll send you a gift on your birthday or any holiday you celebrate. He’ll ask you to not block in in a card attached, and soon he’ll be able to see your status again.

Kate Kane and you met at a friend’s party. Having been circling the same group of friends, running into the red haired woman was rather common. Bonding over childhood trauma and her father’s crazy wife. It was fun to meet someone who understood the struggles you went through. When Kate cheated on you, and it was plastered in the front page of all the queer gossips magazines and other social medias. You learned from one of your mutual friends, but the evidence still hurt. You blocked her, and washed your hands clean. Months later she is at your apartment door, stumbling over her words. Her makeup is smeared from crying, and the urge to shut the door in her face is overwhelming. She sobs about how she loved you, and it was a publicity stunt to cover up her father’s own cheating scandal. It’s hard to believe, but when she reaches to kiss you, you don’t stop her.

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 3

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This work is 18+, MDNI

Masterlist

The cold air bit at Viserea’s cheeks as she waited for Winterfell’s gates to be opened. Viserea had seen a moon come and go during her stay in Winterfell and she was unsure on if she would enjoy being back in the keep or miss Winterfell more. She could see how Tessarion was pacing in the main field in front of Winterfell’s gates and knew she was pondering the same thought.

After the oaths of loyalty were made, Benjen had offered a place for Viserea in Winterfell. He said he knew that she would not stay there permanently, but that he and the rest of the Starks wanted to finally meet their relative. Viserea had not allowed herself to make second guesses and had accepted immediately. Rickon stayed in King’s Landing for two weeks longer than his father before returning to Winterfell, saying that he would send a raven to her when the worst of their winter was over. A couple months later, the raven arrived and Viserea had plans made to fly to Winterfell.

Though the cold weather took some adjusting, she found she felt the same safety in Winterfell that she did at Dragonstone. She was finally able to see where her mother was put to rest and even spent a short while praying to her. All of the residents of Winterfell had welcomed her in as if she had grown up there and had no problem in explaining the histories of the North. Some of the braver souls had even asked to see Tessarion up close.

Viserea felt someone wrap themselves around her leg and she looked down at the child of only four, smiling.

“Must you leave already, cousin?” Cregan asked, pushing his bottom lip into a pout. Viserea crouched down next to him and hugged him tightly.

“I am afraid so. My duty lies back in King’s Landing and I have already been granted a moon’s cycle away from them. If I am to be a good Hand to the future Queen, I cannot avoid them any longer.” Pushing a piece of his dark hair away from his face, Viserea kissed the child’s forehead.

“Will you be visiting again soon?” He asked.

“I swear it by the old gods and the new.” Viserea answered.

Her response seemed to satisfy the boy and he ran back to where his parents stood, the rest having already bid their farewells.

Once the gates were opened, Viserea made her way to where Tessarion stood, a happy chirp escaping the mighty dragon in a greeting. It was still dark outside, the sun not even breaking the horizon yet, but the moonlight reflected off the thick covering of snow enough that Viserea could easily mount Tessarion. Usually, Viserea wouldn’t travel so early on dragonback, but she wanted to make it back to King’s Landing in time for the small council meeting. Viserys had made it so the meeting would be held in the early afternoon that day so Viserea could attend it.

At Viserea’s command, Tessarion took to the skies and began the flight to King’s Landing. As the flight stretched on, Viserea found herself more and more excited to be returning to the keep. No. She was not excited to be back at the keep. She was excited to see the woman waiting for her at the keep.

Rhaenyra and her had made sure to keep in touch using ravens and Rhaenyra had even informed her of any important discussions in the council while she was away. The letters were not the same as their conversations in Valyrian and there was no replacement for the feeling of Rhaenyra’s lips on hers.

The flight could not come to an end soon enough for Viserea, though she knew Tessarion was enjoying stretching her wings and being back in her normal climate. While she was allowed to be unrestrained outside the walls of Winterfell and Viserea knew she had enjoyed it, the cold climate had affected her appetite and she did not hold the same excitement for flying as she did. The warmer weather had already brought more excitement from the dragon.

“Nepot, Tessarion. (To the pit.)” Viserea commanded and the dragon reacted, slowly lowering its height and slowing its speed until they came to a landing in the dragonpit.

Viserea returned every greeting and welcome back she received as she dismounted the dragon, removed the fur covering she wore was no longer necessary, and made her way to the carriage that awaited her.

A large smile spread across her face when she saw Rhaenyra standing at the foot of the steps and she ran the last couple steps, flinging herself into the Princess’ arms and hugging her tightly. They pulled away a moment later and Rhaenyra was pulling Viserea into the carriage.

Once inside the privacy of the carriage, Rhaenyra’s hands cupped Viserea’s face and her lips were firmly placed on the other’s. Viserea returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around Rhaenyra’s waist and pulling her closer to her. It wasn’t until the two needed to breathe that they finally broke away from each other.

“You are never allowed to leave me alone for that long again.” Rhaenyra said, smiling at Viserea from where she now sat next to her.

“If I receive a greeting like that every time I return, I might have no choice.” Viserea teased, causing a slight pink flush to rise on Rhaenyra’s face.

“As your future Queen, I forbid it.” Rhaenyra’s tone was joking and light and Viserea knew Rhaenyra would never truly restrict her that way.

“Then it would be simply treasonous for me to disobey you.” Viserea replied and leaned in to lightly kiss her once more, “What did I miss here that brought you such torture?”

“It is not what you missed, but what did not take place. The only thing of interest that you missed was the war in the Stepstones reaching new heights.”

“I read your letter of the Sea Snake sending out his own ships and men to help. Has anything else happened?” The switch to Valyrian also switched the tone in which the two spoke. They were no longer in a relaxed state of reunification and were now speaking seriously to each other.

“Not that we’ve been informed of, but we did receive some unfortunate news this morning.” Rhanyra’s face fell as she continued, “Ser Ryam passed last night. His condition worsened rapidly after your departure and he went in his sleep.”

The news caused Viserea’s face to mimic the look of sadness on Rhaenyra’s. Ser Ryam wasn’t assigned to either of them, but his presence was a constant for them and they knew they would miss him.

“I’m glad he went peacefully. He was an honorable member of the Kingsgaurd.” Viserea said, knowing there was not much else she could do.

Once they reached the keep, the doors to the carriage were opened and they were both greeted. A small welcoming party was gathered to welcome Viserea back and she returned all of their greetings to her. The two made their way inside and to the dining hall where they ate their lunch. After they were finished, Viserea told Rhaenyra she would see her soon at the council meeting and she made her way to her chambers.

Another smile broke on her face when she saw Amarda already inside her chambers and filling her bathtub.

“Princess, I’m grateful for your safe return from Winterfell. How was the journey?” Amarda’s question was punctuated with a giggle as she was hugged by Viserea.

“The journey went well, I believe Tessarion enjoyed stretching her wings, but I have missed you dearly. The handmaidens in Winterfell never stopped being nervous around me. I missed your honesty… and your gorgeous braids.” Viserea told her, making the woman smile at her.

“That is because the handmaidens in Winterfell treat you as a Princess. I would be scolded greatly by any other noble for the lack of formality I have with you.” Amarda said as she helped Viserea take off the riding clothes and step into the tub.

The scented oils that Amarda always added helped Viserea relax into the water and Viserea allowed Amarda to do as she pleased as she spoke to her.

“No one else in Winterfell held such formalities after three days. They still greeted me as Princess no matter my protests, though I’m sure Lord Benjen had told them to do so, but they quickly began treating me as if I was one of them.”

“That is because you are one of them in their eyes. They understand you are the Princess, but your mother was loved by everyone in Winterfell and you are her daughter as much as you are your father’s. Loyalty is not taken lightly in the North.” Amarda explained to her.

The rest of the time went by quickly. After her bath, Viserea was dressed and her hair was done in one of Amarda’s braids that she had missed dearly.

Ser Ryden was waiting outside Viserea’s door when she went to leave for the council meeting and asked her about her travels, saying he was glad she was back. Viserea offered her condolences to him over Ryam’s passing which he thanked her for and soon they were outside the doors of the council room. Rhaenyra was the only other one in the room when they arrived, though the rest of the council soon joined them.

After Rhaenyra was named heir and had appointed Viserea as her future hand, the two had been told they were both to attend every council meeting as cupbearers as a way to prepare themselves more.

As Rhaenyra and Viserea began filling the cups for the members, Viserea noticed Corlys’ lack of presence when Viserys sat and signaled for the meeting to begin.

“Ser Ryam was a strong Lord Commander of the Kingsgaurd, but he was ill for some time. He passed in peace, I hope.” Viserys said, looking to the maester.

“Yes, Your Grace. He passed peacefully in his sleep, and his remains are being prepared by the Silent Sisters. The succeeding Lord Commander, Ser Harrold, would like to make haste in finding Ser Ryam’s replacement on the Kingsgaurd.” The maester replied.

Viserea glanced towards Rhaenyra, knowing this meant she would be receiving a new guard soon.

“Your Grace. My Lords.” Ser Harrold spoke from beside Viserea and stepped up to the table, “The Kingsgaurd must soon be restored to its full complement of seven. With the help of the Hand, I’ve invited a number of fine candidates to court. All have passed fair trials.”

Otto’s definition of “fair trials” was yet to be determined by Viserea. She trusted Ser Harrold, though, and knew that he would not allow anyone less than excellent in his ranks.

Viserea and Rhaenyra both moved to the wine table, making themselves busy as Corlys suddenly entered the room.

“Four ships have now been lost. The last one was flying my banner! The Stepstones have now grown into a conflagration, yet you sit here and dither about court business.” Corlys said, not caring what conversation he interrupted.

Viserea looked to Rhaenyra and their eyes met, both of them communicating without words. If one of Corlys’ ships went down, a war was sure to start, whether the King wished it or not.

“If you’ve something to discuss, Lord Corlys-“ Viserea smirked as Otto’s sentence was cut short and turned to face the group of men as Corlys spoke.

“I want to know what is to be done about my ships and my men.”

“The crown will compensate you for your ship and crew, and make an offering to the men’s families.”

“I don’t want compensation. I want to seize the Stepstones by force and burn out this Crabfeeder.” Corlys told Otto as if it was obvious.

Viserea and Rhaenyra both moved towards the table, though Viserea moved to stand closer to where Corlys stood at the end of table.

“I am not prepared to start a war with the Free Cities.” Viserys said calmly.

“These pirates are not the Free Cities.” Corlys argued, holding eye contact with the King from across the table.

“Who do you think provides them with their ships and tender?” Viserys asked, and Lord Strong was quick to back the King’s point.

“In all of its history, my lord, the Seven Kingdoms have never entered open war with the Free Cities. Were that to happen, the losses would be incalculable.”

“And the loss of the trading ports is calculable?” Viserea asked, looking down next to her where he sat.

All eyes were on her as he stuttered for a moment, but Corlys interrupted him before he could speak again.

“What reason does the Crabfeeder have to fear us?” Corlys asked, now standing directly beside Viserea as he glanced around the table, “The King’s own brother has been allowed to seize Dragonstone and fortify it with an army of his gold cloaks. Daemon has squatted there for over a half a year without even a protest from The Crown.”

Daemon’s name being mentioned sent Viserea’s heart stuttering, though she ignored it. She still had not forgiven him for his betrayal six months earlier, but she was no longer angry. Just hurt.

“I’ll caution you, Lord Corlys, a seat at the King’s table does not make you his equal.” Otto warned ironically.

Viserea bit her tongue to keep from telling Otto he needed to heed his own warnings.

“I have acted, Corlys.” Viserys said, dragging her attention back to him, “I’ve sent envoys to Pentos and Volatis to see if we might find common cause. Ships and men are at the ready. The Stepstones will be settled… in time.”

“You have dragonriders, father.” Rhaenyra’s voice caused Viserea’s head turned to where Rhaenyra stood a couple steps behind her, “Send us.”

“It isn’t that simple, Rhaenyra.” Viserys argued.

“It would be a show of force.” Rhaenyra rebutted, stepping up closer to the table so she was now directly between Maester Mellos and Lord Strong.

“At least the Princess has a plan.” Corlys said. Viserea turned to see Corlys with the smallest form of a smile on his face at the Princess’ idea.

“I only meant that we should at least-“ Rhaenyra was cut off by Otto.

“Perhaps, there’s some better use for the Princess’ talents, Your Grace.” Otto’s dismissing of Rhaenyra’s ideas and trying to push her off caused Viserea’s temper to soar quickly and she did not stop herself from speaking this time.

“Perhaps you should not speak over your future Queen.” Viserea snapped, her voice cold and anger clearly written on her face, “Her idea would be less likely to result in casualties. The Crabfeeder has shown he has no regards for angering The Crown. He might have regards for angering dragons.”

The room stilled at Viserea’s outburst save for Corlys’ chuckle beside her and hand gently placed in the middle of her back as a silent thanks. Viserea did not break eye contact with Otto, refusing to be intimidated by him.

“Why don’t you take both Princesses to see about the new Kingsgaurd posting, Lord Commander?” Viserys asked, his voice leaving no room for Viserea to protest being dismissed.

“A fine idea, Your Grace.” Ser Harrold replied.

“This knight will protect you as well, Princess Rhaenyra. You should choose.” Viserys said to Rhaenyra, “It will also be a great time for Princess Viserea to lend her advice and get a taste of attending to matters as your Hand.”

Viserea only looked away from Otto once Rhaenyra had walked away from the table. Viserea placed the wine down on its table and walked over to where Rhaenyra stood with Lord Harrold. As she passed, Corlys gave her a slight bow with a smirk on his face.

The two Princesses and Lord Harrold made their way in silence to the viewing area of the courtyard, though at one point where the halls were empty, Viserea felt Rhaenyra’s hand squeeze hers gently. Viserea looked to her and she understood it was her silent way of saying thank you. Viserea offered her a small but genuine smile.

Rhaenyra stepped to see over the courtyard where the knights had gathered and Viserea stood next to her on her right side. She didn’t need to think about where she stood. It came naturally to her.

“Ser Desmond Caron, a fine knight, Princess.” Ser Harrold said, placing a statue of a bird in the front center of the presentation board next to them, “Step forward, Ser Desmond.”

A knight in an orange-gold cover with the same bird as his statue stepped forward. Viserea stayed silent, though she was not impressed by the man that stepped forward. He looked… soft.

“Son of Ser Royce Caron, Ser Desmond has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and without. While traveling through the Kingswood on his way to King’s Landing, Ser Desmond recently brought a wouldbe poacher to justice.” Ser Harrold explained to them both as Otto joined them.

‘That was it?’ Viserea thought and forced a blank look on her face.

“You might thank him for his leal service, Princess.” Otto said, turning his body away from the knights so they don’t see him speak.

“We thank you for your loyal service to The Crown, Ser.” Rhaenyra said kindly.

Viserea glanced up and saw Princess Rhaenys looking down at them with an amused smile. Her words about the knights at the tourney having seen no real battle played in Viserea’s head repeatedly.

The knight stepped back to his previous place in the line of knights and as Ser Harrold introduced him, the next knight stepped forward.

“Ser Rymun Mallister. Son of Lord Lymond Mallister of Seagard. Winner of the melee at Cider Hall. He was the last mounted of three and twenty knights. Ser Rymun was knighted at eight and ten.” Ser Harrold spoke the numbers as if they should impress them, but one look at his face told Viserea that the only thing that impressed him was his age when knighted.

“None of these men have seen real war.” Viserea whispered Rhaenys’ words from beside Rhaenyra who looked at her with a quirked eyebrow.

“Do any of these knights have combat experience?” Rhaenyra asked Ser Harrold.

“Beyond capturing poachers.” Viserea added, looking over to the Kingsgaurd.

He gave a slight nod and moved an undecorated piece to the front center of the board beside her.

“Ser Cristin Cole.” Ser Harrold spoke and Viserea looked over the edge of the railing, watching as the Dornish knight from the tourney who had asked Rhaenyra’s favor stepped forward, “Son of the steward of the Lord of Blackhaven.”

“Be welcome, Ser Criston.” Rhaenyra’s greeting was met with a smile and a nod from the knight and she continued on, “You saw combat at the Stormlands.” She said.

“Dornish marches, Princess. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions.” Ser Criston explained.

‘Finally.’ Viserea thought to herself, happy to know that at least one of the knights in the crowd had some experience outside of tourneys and poachers.

“Ser Arlan Dondarrion knighted me after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.” Ser Criston informed them.

Rhaenyra looked to Viserea, silently asking for her input.

“He has earned the title of a knight in combat. He did not accept the title with hopes of never seeing real battle, he knew what the title brought with it.” Viserea said to her, making sure to keep her voice low enough to not potentially offend any of the knights below them.

Satisfied with Viserea’s approval, Rhaenyra looked to Ser Harrold.

“I choose Ser Criston Cole.” She said, stepping down from the box used so she could see over the railing.

“Let’s not be too hasty, Princess.” Otto said, approaching them again, “There’s no doubt Ser Criston is a fine warrior, but houses such as Crakehall and Mallister are important allies of The Crown. Seagard, for instance, is the realm’s prime defense against reads from the Iron Islands.”

Viserea glanced up and saw Rhaenys looking down at them again, the same knowing smirk on her face. The look seemed to give Viserea a new burst of confidence. She did not feel the need to impress many people, but if she were ever to impress a woman such as Rhaenys, Viserea knew the feeling would be one she would never let go of.

“Those men are tourney knights. My father should be defended by a man who has known real combat. Should he not?” Rhaenyra argued, her voice confident and sure.

“And if those houses are such great allies of The Crown, surely they will understand that the greatest concern when picking new members of the Kingsgaurd is the safety of the King. If we placed greater concern in keeping allies, then who knows how the quality of the Kingsgaurd might falter.” Viserea backed Rhaenyra, not giving Otto a way to disagree without blatantly stating that he cared less for the King’s safety.

“Of course, Princesses.” Otto said, though Viserea could tell he was not happy about letting the argument drop in the favor of the two women.

“Well, let us plan Ser Criston’s investiture then.” Rhaenyra commanded, holding eye contact with Otto until she turned to walk away with Viserea following her.

Once away from the listening ears of others, the two visibly relaxed.

“How do you plan to spend the rest of your day?” Rhaenyra asked Viserea.

“It has been an entire month since I have caused anyone in the keep a good amount of stress. I miss prowling the streets of King’s Landing.” Viserea answered, looking to Rhaenyra with a smirk on her face and causing Rhaenyra to chuckle.

“Whatever will I do with my day? I get you back and you immediately run away from me.” Rhaenyra said dramatically, feigning hurt.

Viserea let a cheeky smile take over her face and she leaned over to whisper into Rhaenyra’s ear, “I’ll make it up to you and give you my night.”

The answer caused Rhaenyra’s face to turn a deep red and gawk at her through a smile.

“Such statements could cause you to lose your tongue, Princess. It is a good thing I adore them.” Rhaenyra told her and both of them burst into a fit of giggles.

They both still wore smiles when Alicent approached them, the previous look that Viserea couldn’t name being taken over by a relieved smile.

“Good afternoon, Princesses.” She greeted, looking at Viserea, “It is nice to have you back in King’s Landing. I know many have missed your presence, myself included.”

Viserea almost felt bad for the distaste she held for Alicent. She had never been anything but kind towards them and she knew that Rhaenyra trusted her wholly, but that did not make it any easier for Viserea to shake the feelings she had towards her. She thought that maybe the feelings would wash away now that she knew Rhaenyra returned her romantic feelings, but the feeling had only grown stronger in the passing months.

“I thank you for your warm welcome and kind words, Lady Alicent, and for keeping Rhaenyra from putting her life at risk.” Viserea told Alicent and the playful slap Viserea received on her arm caused Alicent and Viserea to both laugh.

“It wasn’t an easy task, but I managed.” Alicent said through her laughter.

“Did you come here only so you could mock me?” Rhaenyra asked Alicent, the same level of dramatism and clear sarcasm in her voice as earlier.

“While it is great fun, that is not why I’m here. I came here to see if either of you wanted to join me at the Sept.” Alicent offered to both of them. Her gaze flickered to behind them and both of the Princesses turned to find Rhaenys behind them.

“My apologies for interrupting, Lady Hightower. I have no qualms with Princess Rhaenyra accepting your invitation if you wish, but I was hoping Princess Viserea might join me for a walk.” Rhaenys spoke with an air of confidence and just enough authority that no one argued.

“Of course, Princess.” Alicent said, looking to Rhaenyra who also agreed.

The two pairs turned in opposite directions, Viserea staying in step with Rhaenys next to her.

“My husband informs me you were given your first duty as Hand to the future Queen.” Rhaenys broke the silence first, looking to Viserea with a knowing smile on her face.

“Yes, I was given the task of assisting her in picking a new member of the Kingsgaurd.” Viserea said, knowing Rhaenys already knew this.

“You did not look too impressed with the options given.”

“Your words at the tourney came to mind more than once, Princess.”

“So you spoke them to Princess Rhaenyra?” Rhaenys questioned.

“I left out the part about their balls being full of seed, but I did mention to her that none of the knights knew real combat.” Viserea’s words caused a genuine smile to break across Rhaenys’ face.

“I understand your leaving that part out, especially with Lord Hightower watching over your every move. Your defense of Rhaenyra and refusal to cower to him seemed to upset him both times you fought against him.” Rhaenys said with a completely neutral voice.

“I see Lord Corlys informed you of the incident in the Council Meeting this afternoon.” Viserea said, slightly embarrassed that Rhaenys knew about it and the shame was reflected in her voice.

“I would not call it an incident. You defended your future Queen and the current Lord of the Tides.” Rhaenys’ words surprised Viserea. She was not expecting someone who aired such a collected front to defend the outburst.

“The rest of the council might disagree, but I thank you for your kind words, Princess.” Viserea’s thanks was genuine. Being complimented by Rhaenys was not something she took lightly and it did make her feel less embarrassed knowing that the princess stood beside her.

“The rest of the council needs to see what it is like for a dragon to burn.” Rhaenys said, “I speak for my husband when I say that House Velaryon will not forget what you did today. We understand that you cannot command the King’s fleets and we also understand that today you and Princess Rhaenyra did what was in your power to help us.”

Viserea found herself unable to respond for a moment. She had not known what to expect Rhaenys to speak about while they walked through the outside halls of the castle, but it was not her praising an outburst in the small council.

“Thank you, Princess, for both your support and understanding. I see the importance in ridding the Stepstones of these pirates and I shall continue to voice support for Lord Corlys’ ideas of how to handle the issue, but I cannot promise that much progress will be made. The Hand might be the only one who could convince the King differently, and I fear my outburst might have ruined any chances of him supporting the war anytime soon.” Viserea chose her words carefully, not wanting to come across as promising anything she could not deliver on.

“I fear the Hand may have met his match in you. You do not allow his power to intimidate you and his power is a card he has been relying on for some time now.” Rhaenys told Viserea, stopping back by the door in which they had started their walk and taking Viserea’s hand in one of her own, “If you ever need anything, please, let us know. We will do what we can to support you… and support Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne.” Rhaenys dropped Viserea’s hand and gave her one last smile before departing the way she had come.

Viserea watched as Rhaenys walked away, in a state of slight shock over their conversation. Approval and support from Corlys and Rhaenys was something that no one, no matter their title, should take advantage of. Once the shock wore off, a newfound sense of confidence took its place in Viserea.

Viserea, Rhaenyra, and Viserys sat at the dinner table that night. The dinners together as a family had resumed the night after the lords swore their oaths to Rhaenyra as heir, though even months later, they still had not gone back to the same lively ones that had taken place when Aemma was there. Viserea supposed they never would.

“We have not spoken much… since….” Rhaenyra’s voice broke the usual silence and Viserea’s eyes shot up to see her looking at Viserys.

“A regret of mine. We should be free to speak our minds to one another” Viserys replied, looking to Rhaenyra. As if just remembering she was there, he also looked over at Viserea.

‘You do not wish me to speak my mind, that I can assure you.’ Viserea thought to herself, using the excuse of the food in her mouth to avoid answering him.

“You can say whatever you’d like. You are the King.” Rhaenyra said simply which resulted in a chuckle from Viserys that neither girl returned.

“I loved your mother… very much.” Viserys’ voice broke in the middle of his sentence, proving how much he meant the statement.

All it did for Viserea though was send the same frightening images of Aemma’s death flashing through her mind and cause her to have to push aside the anger and nausea she felt.

“As did we.” Rhaenyra replied with a bittersweet smile on her face, making sure to include Viserea’s love of Aemma into the conversation.

When the conversation started to lull again, Viserea spoke up. She knew that everyone at the table needed each other, even if none of them wanted to show it or if one of them held anger towards another.

“Ser Harrold provided a fine field of tourney knights.” She said, looking to Rhaenyra and nodding to encourage her to continue the conversation.

“Oh?” Viserys asked as he looked to Viserea, clearly surprised at the attempt of conversation, but jumping at the opportunity nonetheless.

“But in questioning them, we discovered that Ser Criston was the only man among them with true battle experience.” Rhaenyra continued and made Viserys chuckle again.

“He’ll make a fine knight of the Kingsguard.” Viserys voiced his approval, though Viserea suspected Rhaenyra could have chosen an oiled pig and would not have argued with Rhaenyra at this moment.

“Today at Small Council-“ Rhaenyra started, cut off by Viserys,

“Pay it no mind.”

“I thought I might have had some insight, but-“

“You’re young.”

‘People really need to stop interrupting her.’ Viserea thought to herself as a flash of annoyance made its way through her.

“You both will learn.” Viserys continued, causing both Rhaenyra and Viserea to remain silent for the rest of dinner.

Viserea wasn’t apologizing for what she had suggested, but she did not bring that small fact up. Silence was better than an argument.

The next morning, Viserea made her way out of the keep. She had missed the city streets, no matter how much her safety was at risk. Through years of trial and error, she had memorized the best route of escape and perfected when and where to step to avoid being caught.

As soon as she was outside of the castle walls, she saw the two men that always accompanied her. Viserea passed them each a pouch of coins which they caught and placed in the satchels they carried.

“Good morning, Lady Hornwood.” The smaller one greeted, causing a smile to break on to Viserea’s face. For the next couple hours, she was not a Princess, but simply a lady from a minor house.

“Good morning, Cheese and good morning, Blood.” She greeted, stepping in between the men and beginning to walk with them to the main streets of the city.

The two men were intimidating, even Cheese, though he weighed about as much as Viserea and was only a short bit taller than her. It was what Viserea needed in order to crawl through the streets without being spotted.

Her hair was tucked into a cap, and by the time she put on the commoners clothing, she was unrecognizable as the Princess. It was a habit at this point to keep her head down. There were certain establishments that knew of Viserea’s activities and only once they were inside one of them did she ever lift her head.

Viserea spent the morning visiting each of the establishments. She and the owners had systems in place to help where Viserea could. She would hand them each small pouches of coins. One of the pouches was to go to the owner, and then depending on the owner, the rest would go to orphanages, widows of fallen men who had children to feed, various street vendors that promised to keep their prices on food low as long as “donations” were made; each pouch was to be delivered with the words ‘on behalf of the Winter Dragon’. She could not solve all of the city’s problems, but Viserea tried to help where she could, and the owners made sure to tell Viserea how grateful they were to her.

“Why do you do it, Lady Hornwood?” Blood asked as they made their way back to the Red Keep.

“Do what?” She asked him, keeping her eyes on the ground to ensure she did not trip over anything. Scraped hands and knees would reveal exactly what she had been doing that morning.

“Any of it. Sneak out, come to visit the smallfolk, give them money…. Or trust us.”

The way he had said “trust us” sent a shiver down Viserea’s spine. She had told Daemon she did not wish to know what he knew of Blood and Cheese that made them so willing to work for him, or for her. She could only imagine what the two were capable of, especially when placed together. She looked to where Blood stood beside her and over to where Cheese stood beside him.

“I sneak out, visit, and give them money because I do not hold the power to do anything else, but I do not wish to see them suffer knowing I have some means to help.” Viserea answered, her eyes returning to the ground as she continued to walk.

Her answer wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the entire truth. It was true that she did not wish to see people suffering when she had the means to help, but she also knew from the histories how quickly the smallfolk were to riot against the crown if they felt they had reason to. The support of the smallfolk was a powerful weapon when wielded correctly.

“What about trusting us?” Cheese asked, as both him and Blood stepped in front of Viserea to stop her from walking.

“I don’t trust you. I trust my gold.” Viserea said honestly, looking at both of them.

Quicker than she could blink, Blood drew his sword and held it under Viserea’s chin. Her heartbeat quickened but her face remained calm, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.

“Why come with us if you only trust the gold?” Blood asked, “What would happen if we took the gold and did what we wanted with you? Fucking a princess would be fun and we would have enough gold between the two of us to leave the city and go wherever we want.”

Viserea’s heart thudded loudly in her ears at the threat and she swallowed nervously. She wouldn’t beg for them to leave her alone. She had never begged for anything before and she wasn’t going to have her first time begging be to two criminals who wanted her to and would only find it rewarding. All she could think of was how grateful she was that she hadn’t chosen today to bring Rhaenyra with her,

“Then do it. Fuck me and then kill me. Take your gold to some unfortunate ship captain and then flee King’s Landing,” she held eye contact with Blood as she spoke, wanting to make sure he knew her words weren’t a bluff, “but remember who I am and who my family is. That ship could never outsail a dragon, and once he learned the details of my death, my uncle would track you down. He would go to the ends to find you two and give you the same punishment his gold cloaks give the other rapers. You two would know life without a cock for a day, then you would be bathed in Caraxes’ fire.”

The few seconds of silence that followed seemed to span for hours. The two men exchanged looks with each other and Blood lowered his sword from Viserea’s chin.

“It seems you trust your uncle more than the gold.” Cheese said as both him and Blood walked off to leave Viserea to finish the last small portion of the walk on her own.

Viserea’s anxiety and Cheese’s final words to her did not leave her once she returned to the castle. Her hands shook the entire time she redressed herself and any small movement caused her to jump. She quickly made her way back to her chambers, hoping to be able to send for Rhaenyra to join her or to be left undisturbed for the next couple hours.

Her hand was on the door of her chambers when Ser Ryden called for her, though whatever he was going to say fell from his lips as he saw her face and what Viserea could only imagine was a fair amount of terror painted across it.

“Princess, are you okay?” He asked, his eyes going over her appearance to look for any obvious wounds.

As soon as he asked, Viserea’s last bit of restraint broke. She couldn’t stop the tears as they fell and she threw herself into his arms just as she had done the night of her dream of Aemma. She could feel herself being guided into the privacy of her chambers, but she kept her head buried in the cool metal of his armor.

“Do I need to send for the maesters?” Ser Ryden asked and Viserea shook her head, not able to speak through the mess of tears she had become. “Do you wish for me to send for Princess Rhaenyra?” He asked, a hesitancy in his voice at the suggestion, as if he was silently asking her something entirely different.

Viserea’s next sob was caught in her throat as she pulled away from him and looked up to study his face. The hesitancy he had never before had when asking if she wanted to see Rhaenyra had spoken volumes. She studied his face for a moment as if she was trying to read his mind. After finding no harshness or judgment and only concern, she nodded.

“Please.” She said and Ser Ryden moved immediately. He was out of her chambers in a single breath and Viserea knew he wouldn’t return without Rhaenyra by his side.

She walked over to the small sofa along one of the walls of her chambers and pulled the red and silver silk blanket she’d had since a babe around herself.

‘It seems you trust your uncle more than gold’. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to her that she did, but after Daemon’s celebrations over Baelon’s death, she thought she no longer trusted him. It had seemed like a stroke across the face with a whip to hear what he had done after she had told him of her dream, and then to not even show up for her and Rhaenyra as the lords swore their oaths. Yet, it was still Daemon she trusted. She trusted him every time she paid Blood and Cheese to keep her safe, and she trusted him to avenge her if they had harmed her that day. The obvious threat would have been that she was a Princess and future Hand of the Queen and that King Viserys would send for their heads, but it was not Viserys that had crossed her mind in those moments. All she had felt was gratefulness for Rhaenyra’s safety and trust in Daemon to avenge her.

At the sound of her door opening, Viserea looked up and found Rhaenyra making her way towards her. Immediately, she pulled Rhaenyra into her arms and held her close. It was as if she was reassuring herself that Rhaenyra truly had not been harmed today, that she had not come to the city with her, and that she was still okay.

“Ñuha prūmia (my heart), what happened?” Rhaenyra asked after giving Viserea a moment to simply sob and hold her close.

Viserea told Rhaenyra everything; every explicit detail of when, how, and with whom she visited the cities, how the trips had started, and what had happened in her most recent one.

“I was terrified, but your safety and Daemon’s revenge are the two things that brought me comfort in what I thought could have been my final, terrifying moments.” Viserea finished, and added on a moment later, “I love you both.”

Rhaenyra’s silence at the final sentiment brought a strike of fear through Viserea that made the fear she felt with Blood and Cheese feel like nothing. A giggle left Rhaenyra’s lips and Viserea’s eye glued to her face,

“You’re laughing?” Viserea questioned.

“I’m relieved.” Rhaenyra said, sitting down on the sofa in front of Viserea, “I’m relieved for your safety, first and foremost. I want to send for Blood and Cheese’s heads but I know how that would play out… and I’m relieved that I no longer need to feel guilt about my emotions towards our uncle. I haven’t been able to bring myself to hate him as I know I should, and I am relieved that we both feel the complicated tangle of emotions towards him.”

Viserea sat next to Rhaenyra, laying her head on her shoulder and taking Rhaenyra’s hands in hers,

“I always said I wanted a marriage to rival Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys’.” Viserea said, sighing when she felt Rhaenyra’s fingers lace with her own.

“Did you always picture it as the three of us?”

“Always.” Viserea lifted her head as she answered and faced Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra leaned in and kissed Viserea, who eagerly returned the kiss. Neither of them seemed willing to be the one to break away first and Rhaenyra had changed position to now straddle Viserea’s lap, their dresses causing them both to giggle into the kiss as they moved the fabric in a way to allow the position. Viserea’s hair was still down from where she had returned from the city and Rhaenyra’s hands were locked in them . Viserea rested one hand on Rhaenyra’s hip and the other was wrapped around the back of her neck, both of them positioned to keep Rhaenyra as close as possible to her.

The kiss only broke when they heard the knock on Viserea’s door. The two pulled away and separated quickly while Viserea ran her fingers through her hair to try and tame the mess she knew it was.

“Princesses?” Viserea calmed drastically when she heard Amarda’s voice calling for them, “It is urgent.”

“Enter.” Viserea called, standing up and walking to her vanity.

“The Hand has called an emergency meeting.” Amarda said once she had entered Viserea’s chambers. Amarda immediately came to Viserea and tamed her tangled hair, placing a simple braid in it so that she would be presentable for the meeting. “You must go now.”

Rhaenyra and Viserea said nothing on the way to the meeting, though they could both feel the electricity in the air between them. Their flushed faces could be blamed on their speedy arrival to the council meeting, but they would have to make sure not to draw attention to themselves for their swollen lips were not disappearing quickly enough.

By the time they entered the council room, a dragonkeeper was already speaking in High Valyrian.

“It occurred in the blackness of the night, my lords, during the Hour of the Bat. The thief eluded our pursuit.” The dragonkeeper said, causing both Rhaenyra and Viserea to exchange glances.

Both stayed silent as they stood next to each other and Viserys continued questioning the keeper.

“How is it possible that a dragon’s egg was stolen out from beneath more than fifty Dragonkeepers?”

“It was Prince Daemon who was the culprit, Your Grace.”

“Daemon?” Viserys questioned.

Once again, it took great control for Viserea to not reach for Rhaenyra’s hand to remain silent.

“The Prince left a missive, which I believe might explain.” Otto said.

Rhaenyra and Viserea exchanged another glance and took a step forward as the letter was read.

“It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of Dragonstone and rightful heir to the Iron Throne, to announce that he is to take a second wife in the tradition of Old Valyria. She is to assume the title Lady Mysaria of Dragonstone. Her Grace is with child and is to have a dragon’s egg placed in the babe’s cradle in the custom of House Targaryen. The Prince has invited you to his wedding, Your Grace.” The maester read the letter aloud and each word sent a deeper knife into Viserea’s heart.

She moved half a step closer to Rhaenyra, as if reminding her that she still stood beside her and her claim, and to remind her ‘I’m still here’. Of course, the moment they both admit that they hold deeper feelings for him, their uncle must go and hurt them further by taking a second wife and denying Rhaenyra’s claim.

“Who is Lady Mysaria?” Corlys questioned.

“Daemon’s whore.” Otto answered, cutting off whatever answer the maester was going to give in place. “This is nothing less than sedition.”

“I strongly agree, sire.” Lord Strong said, facing Viserys.

“My brother wishes to provoke me. To answer is to give him what he wants.” Viserys said.

“The Realm is watching, Your Grace.” Corlys replied.

“What would you have me do? Send him to the wall? Perhaps I could put his head on a spike.”

‘Defend your daughter’s claim! Punish him for this without allowing him to remain on Dragonstone claiming he is something he is not!’ Viserea wanted to scream, but in a great show of restraint, she remained quiet.

“Daemon has seized Dragonstone, surrounded himself with an army of gold cloaks, and has now stolen a dangerous weapon-“ Otto started, only for Rhaenyra’s quiet voice to break in speaking something Valyrian that Viserea did not catch.

All heads turned to Rhaenyra as she spoke again, this time louder,

“Which egg did Daemon take?” Rhaenyra demanded, looking at the Dragonkeeper.

The hesitancy to answer was clear enough for everyone to know the answer, but he eventually spoke the words and confirmed it,

“The egg was Dreamfyre’s, Princess. The same that you chose for Prince Baelon’s cradle.”

Viserea did not stop herself this time. She reached for Rhaenyra’s hand and gripped it tightly behind their backs. They both held back tears at the news, both of their pain coming from the same source but for different reasons.

“Assemble a detachment, Otto. I will go to Dragonstone and drag Daemon back to face justice myself.” Viserys said, standing from his chair and beginning to walk towards the door.

“Your Grace.” Otto called, causing Viserys to stop in his tracks and turn to him, “My apologies, Your Grace, but I cannot allow it. It’s too dangerous. Daemon is without limit. Let me go to Dragonstone.”

Viserea trusted neither Viserys or Otto to handle Daemon at that moment. Both of them seemed to be more insulted by Baelon’s egg being stolen and neither focused on the disrespect and treason of calling himself the rightful heir and denying Rhaenyra’s claim. Alas, Viserys nodded, giving Otto permission to leave for Dragonstone and calling the meeting to an end.

Neither Princess spoke much to each other that night, but they both stayed curled up to each other in bed. They didn’t need to speak to know that they would both be flying to Dragonstone the next morning, with or without the King’s blessing. The only dragons large enough to stand a chance against them were Balerion, who was long dead years ago, Vhagar, who was nowhere to be seen, and Meleys. Caraxes and Tessarion were now the same size, and even without seeing war, Tessarion and Syrax combined would be enough to fight through Caraxes, not that he would be there anyways.

The next morning, they both changed into their riding gear and were in the pits, not paying attention to a single protest from the keepers as they took their dragons to the skies. The hours spent flying to Dragonstone were silent, also. The night before they had briefly spoken of a plan. Both agreed that this was Rhaenyra’s place to assert her power and show that she was not some scared Princess who would roll over at the first challenge of her claim or sign of disrespect.

By the time the castle of Dragonstone came into view, they could see that the two sides were in a standoff. Swords were drawn on both sides and Caraxes stood perched on the bridge, his familiar roar cascading over the land. The roars of Syrax and Tessarion drew attention away from Daemon.

Rhaenyra landed on the bridge behind her father’s men and dismounted while Viserea landed Tessarion in front of the King’s men, causing them to all back up and be pinned between the two dragons. Viserea could hear Rhaenyra speak to Otto, but she kept her eyes locked on Daemon as Daemon did her.

Rhaenyra appeared from underneath Tessarion, walking straight to Daemon and speaking,

“My father named me Princess of Dragonstone. That is my castle you’re living in, uncle.” Rhaenyra said, immediately speaking in High Valyrian. It was a conversation she wished to keep private.

“Not until you come of age.” Daemon replied.

Viserea knew she would have angered quickly at any response he had given, and this one did exactly that. Technicalities that he knew were a low blow.

“You have angered your king.”

“I don’t see why. This is a day of celebration. I am to be wed.”

“You already have a wife.”

“Not one of my choosing.” Daemon said, giving Viserea a pointed glance as he spoke the sentence, “Why force myself upon a wife that does not want me?”

Hurt and anger rose through Viserea as he used her defense of him against Otto only to throw it back in her face. As if sensing everything Viserea felt, Tessarion gave a low warning groan to Daemon, her teeth showing.

“And this required you to steal my brother’s egg?” Rhaenyra asked him, not letting Tessarion’s warning distract her from Daemon.

“You shared your cradle with a dragon when you were born, both of you. I want the same for my child.” Daemon took a couple steps closer to Rhaenyra as he spoke, making the space between them nonexistent and causing Tessarion to give another warning growl.

The growl caused Caraxes to return one of his own, then Syrax to respond to Caraxes. All three of the dragons shifted and Viserea could hear the gold cloaks and king’s men shifting uncomfortably at the thought of what would happen if the three dragons opened their mouths.

“You’re to have a child?” Rhaenyra questioned once the dragons had quieted.

“One day.” Daemon replied, causing Mysaria to walk off through the army of gold cloaks behind them.

Viserea’s smirk at the events faltered when Rhaenyra spoke,

“I’m right here, Uncle… the object of your ire, the reason that you were disinherited. If you wish to be restored as heir, you’ll need to kill me. So, do it. And be done with all this bother.”

Viserea’s eyes shot from Daemon to Rhaenyra, then began quickly darting between the two. She gripped the reins of Tessarion tightly, the word on the tip of her tongue if Daemon so much as glanced towards Dark Sister on his hip. Offering herself up to Daemon had not been discussed and Viserea’s hands shook at the thought of losing both of them in mere seconds, but she would not hesitate to kill anyone who dared harmed her Rhaenyra.

Daemon glanced between Rhaenyra, Viserea, and Tessarion before beginning to walk away, only looking back to toss the egg to Rhaenyra, who caught it with a grunt.

“You might want to speak to Blood and Cheese about threatening paying customers.” Viserea called out, watching as Daemon stopped in his tracks and looked back at her, curiosity and anger in his eyes, but saying nothing more as he walked away

Once Rhaenyra had stepped from under Tessarion, Viserea gave the command to fly again with Syrax joining her side soon after. Both of the Princesses now wore victorious looks. It wasn’t a huge win, but it showed that neither the future Queen nor her Hand would allow treasonous actions from even their own family. There would be hell to pay from Viserys, but that wasn’t the important matter at the moment.

Their flight back to King’s Landing took longer than normal, both of them dawdling and allowing their dragons to take the lead and follow the winds as they pleased. This time, they did speak as they rode back, but of nothing important. Which clouds looked the softest, how fast dragonfire could dry out a sea, and how far they thought their dragons could fly without rest.

It was nightfall when they landed in the pits again and returned to the keep. They were immediately escorted to the King’s Chambers, given no chance to wash the smell of dragon off of them. Neither of them allowed their anxieties to show on their face as they entered Viserys’ chambers and they both greeted him with a slight bow of the head and,

“Your Grace.”

“You both disobeyed me. You fled King’s Landing without a word and you acted without The Crown’s leave,” Viserys’ glances between the two turned strictly towards Rhaenyra as he poked her in the chest. “You are my only heir. You could’ve been killed.”

“She would not have been.” Viserea said quickly, an ice in her eyes as she stared harshly at Viserys, “We went to ensure that Daemon understood that Rhaenyra is your heir, since he openly claimed he was.”

Viserys’ response was cut off by Rhaenyra,

“May I sit?”

Viserys and Viserea looked slightly taken aback by her question and watched as she sat down in an open chair. Viserea followed behind her, standing up behind her as Rhaenyra sat. Viserys followed and sat opposite her.

“You went to Dragonstone.” He angrily repeated.

“And we retrieved the egg without bloodshed.” Rhaenyra replied calmly, “A feat I’m not sure Ser Otto could’ve accomplished alone.”

“Yes, well…” Viserys sighed in defeat and then chuckled, “I sometimes forget how alike you two are to your parents,” Another sigh escaped his lips, “Your mother’s absence is a wound that will never heal. Without her, the Red Keep has lost a warmth that I dare say it will never recover. And you,” Viserys looked to Viserea, “Your father was always the first to defend us, despite me being the elder. A trait I see in the way you jump to defend Rhaenyra at the first sight of disrespect.”

“I’ll be happy in my life if that is the trait I share with him.” Viserea said truthfully, her anger dissipating quickly at the compliment. She wanted nothing more than to be remembered to share traits with her father.

“It pleases me to hear you say this. To know that I’m not alone in my grief.” Rhaenyra said genuinely.

“I wish I had known better what to say to you in the aftermath. To say to you both. I struggled to realize that my daughter, and the one who I view as mine own, had so quickly become women grown. But I know they understand what is now expected of me.” Viserys’ voice grew shaky at the end, as if he was willing them both to be understanding.

“The King must take a new wife.” Rhaenyra replied, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“I could never replace your mother,” Viserys reassured, his focus now solely on Rhaenyra, “No more than I intend to replace you as heir. But you are my only heir, and our line is vulnerable, too easily ended.”

As much as Viserys said he claimed and viewed Viserea as his own, it was obvious in moments like these that he subconsciously did not. The way he had said she was his “only” heir, as if Viserea was not an option, and the way he now put his focus solely on Rhaenyra, despite Aemma having been the only mother figure Viserea had ever known made the truth completely obvious to Viserea.

“By marrying again, I may begin to ensure that we are better defended.”

“Against whom?” Rhaenyra questioned and the slight break in her voice made Viserea rest a comforting hand on her shoulder, a silent promise to protect her.

“Whomever may dare to challenge us.” Viserys answered, “I do not wish to make us estranged.”

“You are the King, and so your first duty is to the realm. Mother would’ve understood this. Just as I do.” Rhaenyra reassured him.

“Then it will be announced tomorrow.” Viserys said, dismissing the two of them a moment later.

Viserea was not the first to break the silence between them, knowing Rhaenyra would open up to her in her own time. She simply snuck her way back into Rhaenyra’s room that night and comforted her as she cried and explained how she knew that Viserys must remarry, but that it did not make the grief she felt over her mother’s passing or the anxiety of being named heir any easier.

“Rhaenys is an ally to us.” Viserea said, wanting to tell her of their conversation finally.

“Are you sure? She has warned me that I will not be made Queen the moment my father has a male heir.” Rhaenyra replied.

“It is a smart warning. The realm might not be willing to quietly accept you, but Corlys told her of my outburst in the Small Council and how I wanted The Crown to support him in a war against the stepstones. She said that my support would not be taken lightly and that they would be willing to help defend our claims in every way they could.”

The revelation seemed to calm Rhaenyra enough to where she was able to drift off into sleep and Viserea followed soon after.

Ser Ryden woke them earlier than usual and, as if trying to prove he truly did accept the relationship between the Princesses, helped Viserea sneak back into her room before the handmaidens showed up to help the two get ready for the meeting that day.

Rhaenyra and Viserea met again outside the doors of the council room, both of them now bathed and in new dresses. Rhaenyra was still obviously upset, but trying to remain optimistic, though Viserea saw right through it.

A look of confusion crossed both girls' faces as they noticed Alicent in the room and the two exchanged glances. They filled the goblets with wine as they walked around the room and noticed that Alicent refused to make eye contact with either of them. When Viserys called the meeting to start, Rhaenyra stood on one side of the table, behind Lord Strong and opposite Otto and Alicent, and Viserea stood beside Corlys at the end of the table.

“I have decided to take a new wife.” Viserys said, glancing between Corlys, then to Viserea, and finally landing on Rhaenyra, who gave him a reassuring nod.

Viserea caught on before he announced who his new wife would be though, something she didn’t think Rhaenyra had caught on to. Viserea allowed a glare to cross her face and she looked back and forth between Alicent and Viserys.

“I intend to marry… the Lady Alicent Hightower before spring’s end.” Viserys announced and Viserea tore her glare away from the two to look over at Rhaenyra who’s pain was as visible on her face as Viserea’s anger.

“This is an absurdity.” Corlys said, standing beside Viserea, “My house is Valyrian, the greatest power in the realm.”

“And I am your King.” Viserys replied, the unspoken warning obvious in his voice.

Corlys glanced between Otto and Viserys once more before storming out.

“Rhaenyra…” Viserys called, though Rhaenyra never looked towards him. She tore her hurt gaze away from Alicent and left the room, following Corlys trail.

Perhaps it spoke more of Viserea’s anger that she spoke none of the insults she wished to hurl at everyone in the room and simply slammed the pitcher of wine onto the table and left with a simple, “My King, my Queen.”

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: When you're forced to work in pairs/groups when you don't want to work in pairs/groups, work life, slice of life

Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have loved this story so much already, I did not expect so man tag requests! I'll do my best to live up to your expectations in this story that is pretty much writing itself. If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please let me know!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

The walk back to the library was longer than usual, but that was because you were now burdened with a task that was nearly impossible to complete with what was at your disposal. Not only was there so little provided, the personnel allotted was the complete opposite of what was necessary. It would have been laughable had it not been so pathetic. You, someone who normally worked with a set number of others, (most of which were virtual) was now forced into a group with two other members whom you have never even properly spoken to.

Loki probably hates me, he has to hate me. The man-person-god-prince-whatever-he-is has never even uttered a word to me until today! You thought back to the very first time you ever met the silent and brooding raven haired Asgardian.

It started off just like any other day, quiet and peaceful. It was just you, the books, and the sun. Though it was a state-of-the-art facility, the library was given a more soothing design with wooden shelving and tables, soft carpeting, comfortable seating of chairs and sofas, table lamps, and desks for laptops and computers to promote productivity and security. There were a few high-tech things, such as the book trolley being robotic and the security measures equal to the rest of the complex; but overall it evoked a sense of tradition.

You were leading the robot trolley filled with books through the shelves, returning items to their proper place, when you heard the chime at the door. Peeking your head out of the aisle, you were awestruck by the handsome young man whom you have never seen before, slowly walking in and looking around in what you could only describe as pure wonder. There was a sparkle of life in those blue eyes and the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. Setting the book in hand back on the trolley, you stepped out and gave a big smile.

“Hello, my name is Y/N. I’m the librarian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You cheerily greeted him, but only received silence in return as he walked further into the room without even a passing glance. There’s no way he didn’t hear me, right? I didn’t shout, but I wasn’t quiet either. He seems to be really excited about the library, so maybe he was too busy looking around? She opened her mouth to let him know she was here to assist if he needed anything, but he was nowhere to be seen. “I guess he really was just that eager.” You muttered to yourself as you finished your task and made your way to the main desk.

Who is he, anyway? He looks oddly familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it. You dug through your memories, trying to find a name to the face. When it was clear that it was not something that would come to you right away, he let it be for now and tried your best to see if the newcomer was still here. Had it not been for the occasional sightings, you would have sworn your mind was playing tricks on you. When he finally settled on a few books, you waited for him to come to the desk to check out.

“Excuse me, sir!” You shouted after him as he went straight towards the door. His nose was already buried in one book, and two more were under his arm. It was too late. The alarm at the door began ringing, and a female computer voice came through the speakers.

“Please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk. I repeat, please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk.” You watched his head snap up and look around for the source of the disembodied voice when holographic floating arrows directed his attention towards you. You gave a slight wave and put on your best welcoming smile once more. He looked down at the books he held briefly before making his way over to the desk.

“I guess you didn’t hear me, I was trying to get your attention before you left. It’s fine, people make that mistake most of them the time when they're busy. May I please see the books?” He held out your hands, but he deposited the stack on to the desk and pushed it towards you. Ok, you pulled them closer. “Your ID as well, please.” You held out your hand once more and the man simply stared at you, bewildered, with scrunched eyebrows and a growing frown. Lifting your lanyard up, you pointed to your pass holder, which held your ID. “Your ID card, the one that gives you access to the various parts of this facility.” The continued silence was deafening as one of his hands slipped into one of his pockets and he pulled out his ID and placed it on the table. “Uh, thank you,” you mumble as you pick up the piece of plastic and tapped it against a panel to the right of your monitor. Loki? You stared at the name for a moment, the gears slowly turning in your head as you scanned the books one by one before handing them and his ID back to him. “You have two weeks to return or extend your borrow time. Please do not damage them or return them late, you will incur some fees if so. Thank you, I hope you enjoy them. If you need any,” you began to strike up conversation once more, but he took the books and left without a word, leaving you to awkwardly watch.

“Talk about intimidating! I had no idea they brought him here!” You let out a heavy sigh and plopped back into your chair. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him without those big gold horns! Did he really just ignore me, though? Maybe he’s shy? I don’t recall ever hearing him speak, though,” you muttered to yourself, swinging left to right. “He must’ve proven that he’s not dangerous if he’s allowed to be part of the Avenger’s team.” You shrugged and let the topic slide for now. You would give him time to grow accustomed to you…or so you thought.

The encounters that followed were nearly identical to the first. He would come in and completely ignore you, read for hours, check out books, and leave. Not a word came from his lips, and he only ever looked at you with you were not sure whether it was disdain or disgust. At some point, you completely gave up on speaking to him and simply took note of the books he liked. When he would go searching for something of interest, you would set a book that you believed he would enjoy beside the sofa he usually sat. It was clear she chose well, since he would always read and check it out. With all this in mind, you had come to the conclusion he cannot speak for some reason, and you were a rude stranger constantly chattering on to him. Not wanting to spoil his time in the library, you quickly adapted and remained silent in return. 

You dryly laughed at the memories that dropped on you like bricks. You were clearly thinking too highly of yourself, since today you had heard him speak quite clearly. Why would someone remain quiet for so long? After all attempts made to strike up conversation? There was only one valid solution: he hated you. The reason, you were not sure, but it was the only thing that made sense, and that meant you only had one Asgardian to rely on for assistance in your assignment.

Thor can only do so much since he is a main team member and one that is sent out on multiple missions globally. You pinched the bridge of your nose. Even if they forced Loki to assist, he’ll also be sent on various missions as well. I’ll have to wait for them to return every single time because those take priority over what I need to do. Then there’s training for the missions, training to keep working well as a team, meeting, and the press! The work is never going to get done! You wanted to rip your hair out from frustration as you roughly tousled it about and let out a loud groan of frustration once inside your sanctuary, the library. “And this is all if they say yes to helping me out. I doubt Fury is going to demand it, and Agent Hill isn’t going to go out of her way to persuade them. Just forget it, Y/N, fix the report and file it. Then just go on with your day just like you always do.”

“Thor, Loki, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Agent Hill greeted the brothers that came into her office.

“Of course we would come. It is not often that you call for anyone other than Stark or Rogers.” Thor gave an amicable smile, while Loki simply took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. “What is it that you wish to discuss with us?” Thor took the seat beside his brother.

“I won’t take much of your time, it is a new assignment that only the two of you can assist us with.” She took her seat once more and faced the two of them. “Director Fury has given a task to our Resources Management department, the lead of which works here at HQ with us. She is the Librarian. I’m sure you have seen her most of all.” She looked towards the younger prince.

Loki kept a passive outwardly expression while his mind quickly tried to pull out the information of this librarian. He was no stranger to meeting a multitude of people, but he was not foolish enough to assume he would be able to memorize everyone’s name and face. He was a prince of Asgard, the only people he needed to know of in detail ere dignitaries and other royals. This librarian was hardly someone he would have considered amongst the two categories.

“So what if I have?” He coolly questioned, unsure of what the agent was trying to get at with all of this. Is this the reason she requested an audience with us the week before? What task could they have possibly given such a department that requires our assistance? I am not some scribe! He wanted to snap at Hill, but he held his tongue. Though he was an Avenger now, he was still not fully trusted by anyone. He knew even Thor had his reservations, but they knew how the Mind Stone worked. They knew he was not lying, but they were clear in stating they did not know him and this chance was only given because of his brother, Thor.

“Well, it will make things easier for us. She needs assistance in translating all of our texts into English. The department needs to create digital copies of all our books and paper resources so that we can access them anywhere and any time. We do not have the means to simply assign large groups to this task, because it would lead to suffering in on ground missions and recon. The both of you have the ability of AllSpeak which can translate anything you say to English. When you are available, please assist the Librarian in translating the various texts to help speed up the process.”

“This is a side request?” Thor asked, wanting to clarify the priority of this.

“Yes, we do not wish for this to hinder any missions you are needed for. We are requesting you head to the library when you have the time to speak with her and set up a tentative schedule so that she can report back to Director Fury by the end of this month. By that time, she will have the necessary equipment as well. If he approves, then we can move forward in starting this task.”

“You want us to dictate books to her? So she can type it up? Do you not have programs that can instantly translate for you?” Loki frowned, crossing his arms in disapproval at this waste of time.

“Though there are plenty of translation software programs out there, none of them are a hundred percent accurate. They may translate directly word for word, which could destroy the concept of the passages. It may attempt to try to understand the concept, but get it completely wrong. Both of you will be able to read the text and understand the context of it, which will help her type a more accurate translation.” Thor loudly hummed as he considered the task. It was not something he was rather fond of, however he wanted to be of assistance if this would help the organization.

“I am to deployed on a mission with Rogers and Stark in a couple of days. I am not certain how long we will be away. Is it possible to extend the time of meeting with the Librarian?” 

“I am to head out with the spider and bird tomorrow evening and return in four days.” Loki added.

“Very well, I will have her look into your schedules and reach out to the both of you.  If it cannot be done together, I will have her meet with you separately. Your missions will always be a priority, and she is well aware of that. Thank you for your assistance, I’ll inform her of this development.” Agent Hill stood from her seat and the two brothers followed, stepping out of her office and making their way towards the common room.

“Have you actually met this Librarian, brother?” Thor was the one to break the silence.

“I have not the faintest clue on whom they are referring to. No one speaks to me in this sterile place, how am I supposed to meet anyone?” He scoffed. Who would want to talk to a monster such as me? “It doesn’t matter, we will meet this woman at some point and better understand this waste of time that we are being dragged into. If you’ll excuse me, I have a debriefing to sit through.” He turned down the hall on their left, leaving Thor with the harsh words of his reality.

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