#it’s so smooth n satisfying to watch n they used the size of the group to their advantage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chocosvt · 5 years ago

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⚬ pairing: prince!seokmin x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 12,690 ⚬ warnings: none. ⚬ genre: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, angst, teasing, some slowburn romance, superfluff toward the end.

✧✎ synopsis: the time has come for prince seokmin to meet his arranged marriage, which forces you to confront a strange predicament: if you truly hate the prince, then why does the thought of him being with someone else hurt this badly?

✧✎ a/n: yeah... i’ve wanted to write some prince!lsm since his excalibur pictures. evidently, i am very late! i hope u enjoy nonetheless :-)

Hiking up the long, heavy layers of your dress, pale and coloured like lilacs, you retrieved a small carving knife that had been clandestinely strapped against your outer thigh. Buried a few feet away from you in the grass was a smooth, palm-sized piece of beech wood, which you quickly picked up before walking back to the bench. You sat down horizontally, stretching out your legs and taking up as much space as possible whilst you started carving down the edges of the beech wood, flicking away the occasional shavings.

It was only to kill time as you waited for the royal gates to open. That night, the King and Queen were hosting an annual, celebratory dinner to commemorate the newest anointment of pages, otherwise known as the fresh grouping of students who would serve the knights and learn about their duties, specifically how they protected and served the kingdom. It was a true honour: you had been requested to cook in the royal kitchen, and the younger apprentice your mother hired at the bakery, Chan, was going with you.

He was notably excited and couldn’t sit down, instead pacing in front of the tall, wooden gateway into the castle grounds. This would be his first time seeing the royal family’s abode from the inside, and if he was particularly lucky, he might get to meet the Prince. To him it was a big deal, but you couldn’t care less. At even just thinking about the Prince, you started pressing your knife harder against the beech wood, gritting your teeth as a larger piece curled off and fell into your lap. Lee Seokmin, he was the Prince.

You absolutely hated him.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, child?”

The sunlight that glinted against your face was interrupted by your mother, who had her hands sternly placed on her hips, glaring down at you in sheer disapproval.

“Give me that.” She quipped whilst scowling at the blade. “This instant.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up properly on the bench and dusted the cream-coloured shavings off your lap. She never let you do anything, and when you were in close proximity to the castle, she became even more rigid and hawk-eyed. You gave her the knife which she hastily folded up, watching her pocket it inside a pouch on the front of her white dress.

You still held onto the beech wood.

“There is no reason to bring a weapon into the King and Queen’s home. I should not have to reprimand you like this once more. Behave in the way I have taught you.”

Suddenly, there was a loud command you heard echo from the turret, and the tall, wooden gateway into the castle grounds began pulling apart. You heard the clink belonging to the iron chains and the cracks in the elderly oak. Chan stumbled backward, leaving sufficient room for the gate to open. Unlike the apprentice whose eyes were glimmering in awe, you had to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and put on your fakest, most convincing expression of content. It was going to be the longest night of your life – even longer if you had to eat supper with the Prince.

Just before you were guided into the royal family’s abode by the caterers, you swiftly pulled up the side of your dress and tucked the piece of beech wood between the garter belt at your thigh. Then, you rushed to stand beside Chan.

“Excited, are you?” You asked him.

He tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind his ear, practically bouncing in his place. “It is my biggest wish to sit down with the Prince! To cook for him is already a sure pleasure.”

You couldn’t help but huff at the apprentice’s enthusiasm. He should consider himself lucky he didn’t know Seokmin the way you did.

Time passed quickly, and it was almost two hours into preparing the onslaught of fruit, meat, vegetables, and grain required to make the celebratory supper. The royal kitchen was much larger than the small, quaint space you operated back at the bakery, where everything was tightly shoved together and you knew each crevice like the back of your hand. You were working up a sweat as you kneaded a large, thickening dough. Once you were satisfied, you floured a wooden roller and began flattening it out, using a tin can to cut perfect circles.

You told Chan to put the tray in the clay furnace and keep an eye on the rising bread.

“Where are you going?” He immediately inquired upon watching you untie your apron, hanging the splattered fabric on a hook jutting from the stone wall.

“It’s quite hot. I’m stepping outside for a few minutes. No more than that.”

The young boy nodded and proceeded to follow your orders, keeping a watchful eye on the dough that would soon become crispy, warm pieces of bread. You slipped into the long corridor that led outside. There was still a noticeable heat in the evening air, though it was much less overwhelming compared to the kitchen, packed with fires and bodies and steam. A soft, glowing pink tinted the sky, and you were surprised at how little clouds there were.

Just to be certain, you felt underneath your dress for the piece of beech wood, relieved to brush it against your skin.

A distant sound captured your attention, somewhat like the noise of steel slashing against steel. Walking along the side of pillaring cobblestone, the noise grew louder, accompanied by indiscernible, muffled shouting. You stepped around the small wildflowers sprouting from the grass, keeping as silent as possible upon approaching the corner that ended at an iron gate.

Sparing a cautious glance between the bars, you looked into a large courtyard covered with sand. There were two young men sparring against each other, competitive but lighthearted in their expressions and the nature of how they operated their swords.

It was none other than the Prince himself, Seokmin, against his lifelong accomplice, Jeonghan.

You plucked your head back and inhaled delicately. The unique airiness of Jeonghan’s laughter reverberated into the evening, summer air, joining hymn with the sharp steel. You peaked through the iron bars again. Seokmin was still buried in his hefty silver armor, a layer of chainmail hanging from his shoulders. Expertly, he caught the underside of Jeonghan’s sword with his own and twisted the weapon from his friend’s hands, which dropped against the sand with a soft thud. Jeonghan stumbled backward, panting heavily.

“For God’s sake, I surrender!” He laughed, dusting off his shiny armor.

Seokmin slid his sword back into the sheath at his waist, smiling triumphantly.

“You squander each attempt at defeating me. Have you just lost another bet with my blacksmith?”

Jeonghan bent down to pick up his sword and huffed, “it could be so.”

“You are inclined to become a beggar,” the Prince teased, “thankfully, tonight’s feast shall leave you with plentiful portions to take to the streets.”

There was a small, stone fountain bubbling beneath an overhang in the courtyard. Seokmin allowed a generous cup of water to form in his hands before splashing it along his face, the droplets streaming down his amber skin that had been caked with dust. Once he cleared away the grit, he ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the long, black curls.

He smirked at Jeonghan and uttered something to him you couldn’t decipher as they removed their chainmail. You studied him intently, feeling the warmth in your chest welt into disdain and anger.

“What are you doing all the way down there?!”

You jumped, sensing your flesh bristle. Turning around, you saw Chan standing at the doorway with his brow furrowed, probably wondering why you never returned to the kitchen. Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you hurried toward him and away from the courtyard, praying that neither the Prince nor his friend heard Chan’s shouting.

“Was there somebody out there? Who was it?” Chan immediately pestered you with questions.

“There was no one.” You told him whilst entering the kitchen, heaving a great sigh of relief upon seeing your bread removed from the clay furnace, the bread perfectly golden and risen in small domes.

Chan seemed skeptical, but he knew you were infamously defensive, so he didn’t investigate.

“Have you started the pastry for the cherry pie?” You asked him after setting the grain aside.

“No,” Chan replied, “I heard it is a favourite of the Prince. We must prepare it attentively.”

“Of course. Now, ask that lady over there if we can use her pie pan. We will start immediately.”

In complete honestly, you’d rather prepare any other dessert – even the chocolate soufflés, which were arguably difficult to perfect. However, you yet again bit your tongue and helped the eager apprentice remove the pits from the ruby red cherries, which landed in a wicker basket just at your feet. Every moment or so, you were tempted to leave behind a pit, entertaining the tiny thought that it could be inside the slice served to the Prince. You knew if that happened, neither you or Chan would be allowed to return to the castle.

It wasn’t so much skin off your nose, but Chan would definitely be disheartened.

You made sure to thoroughly clean all the cherries.

The dining hall was absolutely packed. There were rows of young pages standing at the table, hardly able to contain themselves as they stared glossy-eyed into the fresh cooked meals and desserts. No one had sat down yet, not until the King and Queen took their seats.

The Queen, swathed in the long, shimmering silk of her violet robe, observed the hungry crowd gathered before her. She was an alluring beacon, just like a porcelain doll, and the sapphire gems embossed in her crown glinted against the central chandelier. As you were specifically requested by the royal family to cook, you were granted a seat at the table, in between your mother and an anxious Chan who kept stealing glances at the Prince, standing next to his father. You refused to look at Seokmin, even when you felt his gaze trace the side of your face.

Suddenly, the Queen grabbed onto a sumptuous chalice and lifted it high in the air. She began making a toast to the newly appointed pages, congratulating the start of their journey. You copied your mother and reached for a silver goblet next to your plate, which had been prefilled with cold, dark purple wine. Everyone applauded her speech. Then, the King took over.

It was hard to pay attention, until you heard a particular name leave his mouth.

“As we continue the great customs of our ancestors who built this impenetrable kingdom, a new fate has arrived for Prince Seokmin.”

You flicked your gaze toward Seokmin, your heart hammering in your chest. His father set a hand on his shoulder, covered by a velvet, royal blue robe.

“Our son is at the rightful age to marry. After ample negotiation with the neighbouring and prosperous village of Markarth, their Lord has granted permission to his daughter, Lady Adelaide, as a possible contender. She will visit us on the summer solstice. I am prideful, and honoured, to announce this marvellous news alongside the blessed anointment of our pages.”

Instantly, you felt lightheaded, and you had to place the goblet back down on the table in order to avoid spilling the expensive wine. You knew this day would come eventually, but to hear that an arranged marriage was already brewing left a horrible taste in your mouth. The King shook his son’s shoulder with an honest pride, though Seokmin simply pressed his lips together and dipped his head slightly, acknowledging the announcement. You felt sick to your stomach. The thought of eating your beef wellington rendered you unable to even look at its outer pastry.

“Let us not dismiss the efforts of our valuable cooks, who prepared this rustic meal.” The King continued, staring in your direction.

He then praised the name of your mother, you, and Chan in specific. Everyone’s goblet remained in the air. Their gazes smeared across your flesh like wet ash.

“Is there anything you would like to say before we commence our feast?”

Your mother was ready to speak, though you managed to cut in before her.

“P-Pardon me, your Majesty, I am unbelievably humbled to cook for you tonight, but at this time I wish to be excused from the dining hall. May I part?”

Chan turned to look at you as though your hair were entangled in flames, and your mother grew notably tense. The atmosphere in the room was awfully palpable, like a thick balm that made it difficult to breathe. You could feel the pulse in your fingertips. The King then lowered his head to the Queen, and they briefly exchanged a whisper, seemingly coming to a verdict they both agreed on. Asking to be excused from a royal supper seldom occurred, if ever.

“If that is your wish,” the King said, his voice stern, “then you may part.”

You stepped away from your chair, making sure to bow toward the royal family. Seokmin was staring directly at you, his face looking hardened, cold.

“Thank you,” came your tiny response, “I hope you are delighted by the food.”

In the centre of the royal garden was a magnificent water fountain that came alive at nighttime, small, paper lanterns floating in its pool and glowing a solacing orange. You lay on your back, atop the fountain’s wide stone ledge, listening to the gushing water and staring up at the crescent moon. Everyone was still eating inside the dining hall. When you listened very intently, you could hear the faint notes of the live music. You didn’t regret leaving the supper, but you did regret not stealing a tiny bread loaf or even some fresh blackberries from the fruit baskets.

Your stomach was aching, hungry.

Reaching down to tug up the side of your dress, you pulled out the beech wood you spotted in the grass that afternoon. You had wanted to carve something into its surface with your knife, though you weren’t sure what, and it definitely wouldn’t be possible until your mother returned the blade to you. As you held the smooth nature above your face and pressed your thumbs into its cream face, you were overcome by a new, frothing wave of anger. Seokmin was preparing to get married. The beech wood nearly split in two from your iron grip.

You hated thinking that at one point in your childhood, you genuinely liked the Prince, and harboured this flat-out embarrassing crush on him. So did everyone else, but Seokmin certainly didn’t help your malleable heart in pretending that he liked you back. You remembered it clear as day: Jeonghan, who was much smaller at the time, came bounding up to you, teeming with excitement and using his squeaky voice to tell you that Seokmin wanted to kiss you, and that you needed to meet the Prince by Peace River in the forest.

Of course, you obliged without even having to think, and your friends spent the whole morning twisting small bluebells and buttercups in your hair. When you arrived at Peace River, Seokmin was waiting for you, standing in a patch of sunlight that cut through the trees, wearing a long, silk red robe in addition to his silver crown. It was the most nervous you had ever felt in your entire life, and you remembered feeling dizzy as Seokmin gazed down at you with a sweet look in his honey eyes. The two of you leaned in closer, closer, closer…

And right when you felt his lips ghost yours, Seokmin took a step back and you heard a huge fit of laughter erupt from the thick brush in the background.

Seokmin’s friends came stumbling from their hiding spots, some holding their stomachs with how hard they were cackling, others wiping a tear from their eye, all whilst you experienced a shock bottom out in your gut. The realization that everything had been a ruse gave you a tough, metaphorical slap across the face. Jeonghan had to lean against a tree trunk as he gripped his stomach, and a familiar burn stung your cheeks upon remembering the words he coughed out, something along the lines of, “you truly thought the Prince liked you?!”

The worst part was that Seokmin didn’t say anything, he just looked at you sadly. Since then, your contempt for Seokmin blossomed, and he didn’t hesitate to bite back.

Not wanting to break the beech wood, you lowered it from your face and slid it back between the lace garter hidden beneath your dress. When you glanced at the moon, you noticed that a small, orange ball was floating above you. Sitting up, your eyes widened at the sight of numerous orange dots, glimmering all throughout the garden. You recognized them as fireflies, which had always been one of your favourite things about the night. Occasionally, you and Chan would catch the small bugs in mason jars and release them by Peace River.

One fluttered close to your face, so you stuck out your finger hoping it would land. But, out of nowhere, you heard someone walking in the grass and immediately plucked your finger away, instead peering through the moonlight where you spotted a silhouette. Once the figure came into the aurora of the water fountain, you felt your stomach drop. It was none other than the Prince himself. He was no longer wearing his royal robe, just a white poet shirt with the deep, v-shaped collar left unbuttoned, and some black capris. He wasn’t even sporting any jewelry apart from a silver bulb through his right earlobe.

“Why must you act with such blatant disrespect?” He was quick to scold you for leaving the dinner. “Could you have not sat down? Stayed out of honour and given your untouched portions to the beggars?”

You scoffed. “Do not ridicule me like one of your pages. I was asked to cook, and so I did. No more, no less.”

Seokmin huffed, blowing the black curls away from his eyes. “You were invited to eat as well.”

“I fulfilled my principal duty. There was no reason to stay.”

“You could have at least eaten something. A wedge of pie, a peach clove. For heaven’s sake, there was bread at the entryway.”

Unwilling to stay seated and argue, you stood up from the fountain and brushed off your dress, no longer paying attention to the fireflies that illuminated the garden. Of course you wished you took some food; your stomach was collapsing in on itself, though you would not admit it.

“Why are you so concerned with my meals?” You snapped. “Should you not return to your private quarters and get well rested for the summer solstice?”

After mocking his arranged marriage, you couldn’t bear to look Seokmin in the eye. For some reason, a lump got caught in your throat and you felt a hot surge push against your tear ducts.

“Judging by your poor temper, it is you who needs more rest than I.” The Prince shot back.

You couldn’t stand there any longer. Biting harshly into your bottom lip, you attempted to brush by Seokmin and exit the garden. Instead you would find the gateway and wait until your mother and Chan arrived before leaving the castle grounds. There was food back at the house anyway, you assumed maybe some milk pudding, or sunflower seeds. It wouldn’t satiate you, but at least quell the hunger pangs until morning. However, when Seokmin grabbed your elbow you immediately flared, releasing a sharp yelp as he held you in place.

“And where do you think you’re off to?” Seokmin growled, lessening his grip on your arm and leaning in close to your face. “Come with me. I must give you something.”

Peering into the Prince’s dark brown eyes, you snarled, “what?”

He was close enough that you could see the tiny scar on the bridge of his nose from when he and Jeonghan had chased each other with fireplace pokers. You thought about looking at his lips, pretty and pink, but refused to break eye contact. The Prince didn’t say anything, just tugged you through the garden, between the thorny rosebushes, the intricate strings of bleeding hearts, and huge pots of pastel, cotton hydrangeas. To your surprise, Seokmin guided you back into the kitchen you had occupied just a few hours ago.

Then, he opened a wood cupboard and pulled out a polished, bright silver tin, which he thrusted into your arms. You peeled the lid open and saw that the tin was filled with raspberry glazed Danishes, to which the fragrant smell of flaky pastry and berries caused your mouth to water.

“S-Seokmin, I—,” you were going to reject him.

“I am not doing charity work for you. It is the custom of our celebratory suppers to not let any guest leave unfed, or pained by hunger.”

He looked at you with a cold expression, and his tone deepened. “Now, you may wait at the front gate for your companion and mother. It is not your place to wander around my castle. I could have you arrested.”

You welcomed his threat. “I anticipate such a drastic measure if it ensures I’ll never have to see your face again.”

Seokmin didn’t look half as amused. He moved in close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin as he uttered inimically, “leave.”

During the walk home to your village quarters, Chan had already shoved an entire pastry into his mouth, licking the raspberry jam off his fingers. Your mother was eager to know who gifted you such an expensive tin alongside the Danishes. Not wanting to admit your confrontation with Seokmin, you churned up a white lie about how they were a present from another cook.

“Certainly?” She seemed quite surprised. “That is a rare gift. To my knowledge, tins with that level of embroidery are only seen inside the castle. Perhaps that cook quite liked you.”

At the early stretch of dawn, you felt someone grasp your shoulder and shake it roughly, until your eyes pulled open, groggy and blurred. You were sitting up in bed, looking bitter. Chan was next to you, and whilst he wore an apologetic expression, you could sense there was a degree of urgency to his actions.

“What’s the matter?” You hummed, digging the heel of your palm into your eye.

Just outside the windowpane, you could see the calm sunrise and feel the morning, serene warmth through the glass.

“Your mother told me to wake you, that we should head to the bakery immediately.”

As you stumbled around your bedroom, fitting on a pair of degrading, sandalwood slippers before patting your face down with cold water from the well, you were wondering why it was so important that you attend the bakery, that your mother would need to send Chan to fetch you. Still dressed in your nightgown, you left the house alongside the young apprentice and hurried down the quiet road, passing all the tiny markets and apparel shops. As soon as the bakery came into view, you gasped, for a pearl blue carriage was stationed outside, paired to a stallion with silk, white hair. It grazed at a patch of grass and honeysuckle.

There seemed to be a crowd gathered inside the bakery, which only further piqued your curiosity. Chan couldn’t help but stroke the horse’s brilliant fur, which glowed like an amber pool due to the sunlight. You had only taken a measly step or two inside the bakery until jamming to a halt. Right before your eyes, speaking to your mother across the counter was perhaps one of the most pristinely-dressed, elegant girls to ever grace your kingdom. Her dress was long and flowing, a dark green forest jade, accented with gold lacing and a slim pair of gloves that stretched high up her arms.

Chan appeared equally stunned, for he thudded into your backside and stood staring at the girl like she was a rare type of crystal. Almost immediately, you noted the petit, twinkling tiara sitting on her head. Before she could even introduce herself, you knew exactly who she was.

“Lady Adelaide.” You heard Chan whisper to himself.

It immediately dawned on you that the summer solstice had finally arrived. The second she noted your presence at the door, her congregation of guards stepped back, allowing her to approach you. Without a second thought you bowed your head politely. She smelled like fresh clusters of jasmine and her voice was harmonious.

“I apologize, it wasn’t my intention to startle you or your apprentice,” (Chan’s face flushed a shy pink) “I heard from a guardsman of mine that your mother’s bakery is nothing short of wondrous, and I knew I had to stop here before I meet with your kingdom’s Prince.”

You stuttered straight through your teeth, “t-that’s wonderful. P-Pleased, we’re absolutely pleased to serve you, Lady Adelaide. We will prepare anything you desire.”

“Certainly.” Chan agreed.

“I’ll have to spend some time looking over the pastries,” she said jovially, “right now, I am truly awed by how delicious everything appears. My decision will come shortly.”

“Of course.” You responded, rubbing your clammy palms against your dress.

Whilst Lady Adelaide carefully inspected each pastry through the glass, your mother had pulled you and Chan into the kitchen, where she made sure it was clear you show your utmost respect toward the kingdom’s potential princess. Chan still wore a sticky blush on his cheeks, and you could tell he would be about as useful in the kitchen that day as a rock.

“No matter what she requests, we shall honour her needs and prepare it.” Your mother said. “Remember, this could be Prince Seokmin’s wife.”

You felt a streak of envy and wanted to slap yourself.

Once Lady Adelaide made up her mind, your mother re-entered the front shop with a wide smile. Chan started washing his hands in the pail of fresh water.

“Why was I not born the Prince?” He huffed petulantly. “She is truly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Does everyone in Markarth have such a face?”

“Oh, cool it, would you?” Came your sharp response. “Our duty is to operate a bakery, not fall in love.”

You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, and you tried desperately to bite your tongue as you fastened on your apron and pulled up the sleeves of your nightgown. The young apprentice wasn’t lying, she was a true and glorious spectacle, one that would surely appease the King and Queen once they saw her next to their son. However, you weren’t keen on entertaining such a sight, and you dismissed it from your head whilst Chan went to the house front and helped your mother collect Adelaide’s dessert.

A week after Lady Adelaide’s arrival at the kingdom, you happened to find your pocket-sized carving knife inside a bakery drawer. You were absolutely relieved to discover it, and took advantage of your mother’s recent departure to slide it back against the garter belt wrapped around your thigh. For the time being, she was occupied at a different village, visiting her sister.

Chan worked on kneading a mound of sourdough, his sleeves rolled high up to his elbows and a cloth tied around his head, pushing back his growing brown hair. You decided to take a break from the kitchen heat, patting him on his shoulder just before you disappeared.

“Huh?” He mumbled, not bothering to look up from the dough, “where will you be?”

“Peace River.” You told him. “I will be taking a short swim.”

The piece of beech wood was already slipped inside your sleeve. Ever since Seokmin gave you that silver, embroidered tin, you placed it on your bedside table and stored the wood inside.

“Shall I fetch some extra help in the mean time?” Chan asked, lobbing the dough onto a wooden serving board.

“Sure. Why not ask your companion from the academy? Seungkwan is it?”

“Yes.” Chan nodded.

You picked your way through town until you arrived at the pathway that lead into the forest. The dirt was padded down by a century of footsteps, animal paws and wagon wheels, though the soft grass that grew next to it tickled up past your ankles and bloomed with small, purple flowers. You loved walking through the forest, hearing the noises of the village become increasingly muted, replaced by tree branches that gently rocked against each other in the breeze as well as the sweet songbirds.

Upon reaching the river, you sat down on a rock just in front of the grassy bank and pulled out your carving knife. The river created a bubbling waterfall, and whilst you took hold of the beech wood, deciding what to carve, you listened to the trickling sounds. Still unsure of what to scratch in the wood, you continued shaving down its edges until the piece lost its rectangular shape and became more oval. Once you were satisfied with its rounder appearance, you brushed the wispy flakes from your lap, deciding it was time to test the river.

You removed the layers of your dress until you were in nothing but your undergarments, the sunshine that rained between the leaves warm against your skin. After wrapping the beech wood into your clothing, you set the fabric behind a strawberry bush, though left your carving knife folded and sitting on the rock. The river water was cold, but not freezing, and for a few moments you stood knee deep with your eyes closed, allowing the quiet breeze and sunrays to mellow your heartbeat. Then you proceeded to wade in further, until the water lapped up against your chin.

As much as you longed to enjoy the cool river, there was one problem that arose after a few minutes of swimming.

You heard distant galloping becoming closer and closer, accompanied by the rattling of metallic armour and conversation. Not wanting to make your presence known, you paddled beneath the overhanging rock that created the waterfall, the downpour completely soaking your hair whilst the heavy scent of moss stuck to the stone. You were curious as to who could be arriving at the river. Carefully, you peeked around corner of the overhang.

You felt your blood turn to ice.

It was Seokmin and Adelaide. Her arms were wrapped around the Prince’s waist as he held onto the reins of his beautiful, caramel horse named Apple. You remembered the mare’s name because you were the one who suggested it as kids. Seokmin shook the reins once more, and Apple walked closer to the river, already beginning to graze at the sweet grass lining the bank. Seokmin seemed to be educating Adelaide about the river, though you really had to strain to hear what he was saying. He hopped down cleanly from the horse before assisting the Lord’s lady.

She was no longer wearing her jade dress, but a white gown with many ruffles at the skirt. Her eyes were wide and sparkling whilst she examined the forest. Seokmin set a hand on her waist, gesturing to something in the trees you couldn’t see. The Prince was standing in a patch of sunlight just like he did on that summer day when you were children, waiting to kiss you—well, more like humiliate you, but his amber skin still shone the same, and the way the light reflected off his broad, silver armour depicted just how much he’d grown since then.

Closing your eyes, you listened intently for his words.

“Everyone who visits this river is known to experience a beautiful sense of peace, and calm, hence, why it is known as Peace River.”

Adelaide pressed a kiss to Seokmin’s jaw. “I have never seen such a tranquil sight. Oh, Prince Seokmin, it’s beautiful!”

Whilst Apple continued nipping at the grass, Adelaide squatted down next to the river and let the water gush between her fingers, covered in opal and amethyst rings. She was crooning about how pretty the gems looked beneath the current to Seokmin, though you noted the young Prince wasn’t exactly listening. Something caught his attention – your carving knife, which you left sitting on the goddamn rock. Gulping heavily, you watched as Seokmin picked up the blade and inspected it closely. Immediately, you swam away from the corner when he began squinting around the clearing, as though he were attempting to spot the knife’s owner.

The worst part: Seokmin knew who that carving knife belonged to. He knew it was yours, for he offered it to you, a gift from his blacksmith, a few days before the horrible kissing incident.

When you gathered the courage to peer around the corner again, you saw Seokmin help Lady Adelaide back onto Apple’s saddle. He still had your blade in his hand, to which you watched in complete shock as the Prince ordered his horse onward, deeper into the forest. You cursed him relentlessly under your breath. That bastard, he just took your carving knife! When you only discovered its whereabouts no less than half an hour ago! Boiling with fury, you left the river, threw on the clothes over your wet skin, and marched back into town with your beech wood.

The next time you saw the Prince, you weren’t going to let him off easy.

It was the night of the Super Moon Festival.

Raised high amongst the depths of the vast, black sky was the crater itself, bright, shining, and larger than ever. A chilly wind had turned the air quite nippy, and whilst Chan sat next to you, tentatively sipping a warm jar of gold, apple cider, you were simmering in complete bitterness. You had always embraced each festival, especially the Super Moon Festivals, which promised ample fortune unto the kingdom in addition to a prosperous summer; however, that night you couldn’t force even the slightest elation.

Prince Seokmin still had your carving knife.

A great deal of folk had concentrated to the village square, where the celebration was most vibrant. Certain people had linked arms, dancing to the live music, whilst others were releasing paper lanterns of different colours and shapes into the night sky. There were plenty of drinking games, festive food, and buzzing conversations entangled throughout the square. You were shaking your leg, watching intensely as the Prince and his friends were gathered by an old wagon in the far corner, drinking tall tins of frothy ale, laughing loudly into the crisp, cool air.

Suddenly, Chan nudged your shoulder.

“Is everything alright?” He asked. “Why do you continue staring at the Prince?”

You peeled your gaze from Seokmin, though the contort of your features remained. Lady Adelaide was nowhere to be spotted. There were rumours that she would be arriving later, that the band would play a special slow song, just so she could share a dance with the Prince.

“I must speak with him.” You replied.

Chan wrapped his cold hands tighter around the apple cider, casting you a peculiar glance.

“Why is that? Has he done something?”

You knew you couldn’t wait forever. Seokmin’s tightknit ensemble didn’t look like it was going to thin anytime soon, and if you allowed the night to end, you would have missed your chance.

“Be right back.” You uttered sharply to the young apprentice as you rose from your chair, leaving Chan to sit alone with his drink.

He could only gaze after you in a thick confusion. It was definitely nerve-wracking to approach the Prince so boldly, especially when he was swathed by his closest friends, all whom lived inside the castle or carried high profiles in the upper scale village. You almost walked straight through a dancing couple on your march across the large square, though you tried not to let any crumb of doubt or intimidation thwart you from retrieving your carving blade. Without a word, you shoved your way between the muscular bodies, ignoring their surprised scoffs.

Seokmin’s eyes were almost as wide as the moon when you stood before him. He stopped leaning against the wagon’s tall wheel and left his half-finished ale on the ledge.

“Return it to me.” You stated simply, holding out your palm.

“Who the hell is that?” One of his friends chided, clearly not amused that you just pushed through their private celebration only to speak rudely at the Prince.

Seokmin’s brow furrowed. “Return what?” He responded.

His acting utterly irritated you.

“Do not behave so obliviously,” you barked, “come with me, now.”

Wrapping your fingers through the collar of his shirt, you attempted to pull Seokmin away from his companions. Understandably, they were not willing to lose their royal member so easily, which prompted Jeonghan to grab your arm. It came as a slight surprise to you when Seokmin snapped, “do not touch her,” causing him to withdraw his grip, his expression paling. The Prince ensured his companions that he would return soon, only to follow you down a quiet alley, away from the colourful celebration and boasting music.

Folding your arms over your chest, you glared at the boy.

“I want my knife returned.”

Straightening out his collar that you had noticeably crumbled, the Prince scoffed, a smirk trudging across mouth.

“You should not leave any personal property out where it could be discovered.”

“You knew it was mine and yet you still took it.”

“So you were watching me, is that it?” He had the audacity to smile.

In order to contain your fulgurant anger, you clenched your fists tightly at your sides.

“Indeed I watched you take it! Now give it back!”

“Do not get so ahead of yourself.” Seokmin flashed a devious smile, one you wanted to wipe clean from his snide expression.

He reached into his pocket, and beneath the frosted moonlight, you saw him reveal your precious carving knife. You traced his fingers as he unfolded the silver blade and admired the mahogany handle, etched with the smallest, intricate embellishment. If you were swift enough, you could snatch the knife from his hand, but you weren’t sure if the risk was calculated. The Prince gently pressed the pad of his finger to the point, hardly issuing any pressure.

“This did not always belong to you.” He stated simply.

“I know that,” you quipped, “but you decided to gift it to me. So it no longer falls under your property.”

Seokmin blatantly ignored your rebuttal. Instead, he folded up the blade and dared pocket it right before your eyes. You gaped at him.

“Why were you at Peace River?”

“What?!” Feeling completely bewildered, you couldn’t help the loud air of your gasp.

He asked again, “why were you at Peace River? Were you hiding somewhere?”

“That is not your business!” You barked.

Seokmin seemed to adapt your hue of disproportionate awe.

“It is not my business?” He took a step forward, though you didn’t shy from his advance. “I am your Prince. You shall answer what I ask of you.”

“Why do you care why I was there? Should you not focus on the wonderful time you had showing around your dear lady?”

The young Prince’s face didn’t exactly soften upon your reference to Adelaide, rather there was a subtle shift in the nuance of his gaze, where something murky tinted the surface. It was difficult to pinpoint, but you almost swore that mentioning Adelaide had made Seokmin unhappy. To make the matter more confusing, he was clearly examining your features, from the curve of your lips to the arch above each cheek, you were like a memory he could never lose.

Your heart started beating faster, and you felt dearly flustered.

“I-I was only swimming,” you answered him, “that’s all you must know.”

You hated your body for betraying you, for submitting, for twirling itself in a moonstruck loop at the mere thought of Seokmin needing to commit your face to memory. Wanting to feel angry again, you tightened your voice.

“Now, I answered your question. I have pulled you away for one thing and one thing only: my knife. I do not care that your blacksmith crafted it for you, that it was once yours before it was mine. You gave it to me. I want it back.”

“Mind your manners,” the Prince scolded, his eyes turning icy, less forgiving, “I cannot oblige when you create such a fuss.”

Digging your nails in deep to the fabric of your dress, you exhaled shakily.

”I am going to lose my temper, Prince Seokmin. I want my blade, now.”

He took a step toward you, so close you could smell the rich ale on his clothing. His voice had lowered an octave, to which you swallowed coarsely and had trouble locking eyes with him.

“First, you rudely interrupt my friends and I. Second, you speak to me informally, with no respect, not even bothered to fake it. Third, you drag me to this alley and refuse the command of your Prince to summon an ounce of manner. Clean your mouth, or forget the knife.”

Your jaw clenched, and you started to grit your teeth. Seokmin was not exactly fond of the fact that you wouldn’t make eye contact, therefore he placed a light hold on your chin with his index finger and thumb, tilting your head toward him.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” He growled.

A concerning heat infiltrated your body; however, gulping back the rage that burned against your throat, you pulled down his hand, looked straight into his eyes and hissed, “you do not deserve my manners, but for the sake of the situation, may I please have my knife returned, Prince Seokmin?”

He reached into his pocket.

“I am shocked someone so ill-mannered is permitted to live in this kingdom.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watched the boy reveal your carving knife.

“I could effortlessly say the same for you.”

Seokmin handed you the blade, studying you intently whilst you picked up the side of your dress in order to return your prized possession between the thigh garter. Even in the darkness, his cheeks had noticeably pinkened.

“Enjoy the remainder of your night.” You gave him an exaggerated, distasteful bow before walking down the alley, away from the village square. “Do not keep Lady Adelaide waiting.”

The young Prince didn’t bother responding, only chewed into his bottom lip as you disappeared from his sight, his heart beating uncharacteristically fast.

Somehow, you and Chan had ended up back in the royal kitchen.

It was in light of a specific request pitted by the King and Queen, in which they desired you to cook a delicious dinner for Prince Seokmin and Lady Adelaide as they enjoyed their umpteenth date together. You attempted to avoid the situation last minute by faking a dry cough and sore throat, though your mother was far too intelligent to let any elementary performances fool her, resulting in yet another attendance award at the castle. Chan was excited as usual, evident in the small curl to his lips whilst he cleaned his hands in a bucket of well water.

“I never understand you,” Chan said, “why are you never content to visit the castle?”

Tying an apron at your lower back, you simply huffed in response to the young apprentice, not willing to reiterate the whole spiel about your childhood mishap as well as the years of hatred that nurtured it. You knew you seemed ungrateful, stuck-up, but it wasn’t anyone’s business.

“It is not something to concern yourself with,” you told Chan, taking his place at the bucket of cold water, “I am going to cook their meal, and that is all. No more, no less.”

“When do you think we will receive their menu?” Chan asked.

“Whenever it is given to us.”

The royal kitchen was indubitably stocked with produce that could cater to any dish, it was just a matter of awaiting the particular meals Lady Adelaide and Seokmin were keen on eating. Still, you had to agree with Chan, there was an anxious density to the room whilst you prepared your stations, hoping that at least some form of authority would enter the kitchen to update you.

Chan opened a cupboard and found a burlap sack of cherries. He grinned, “do you think Prince Seokmin will want to eat cherry pie again?”

“Beats me,” you shrugged, “maybe he’ll desire a pineapple upside down cake.”

“That sounds complicated.” Chan admitted with a frown.

You chuckled, “he’s complicated.”

“Who’s complicated?”

Suddenly, the Prince appeared in the entryway to the kitchen, dressed in a long, garnet cape that draped around his shoulders, embroidered with a dazzling gold thread. His hair, usually left in its black ringlets, had been groomed neatly from his forehead. His crown looked heavy, precious and incomprehensibly expensive. Both you and Chan were stunned by his abrupt appearance, to which the apprentice dropped a pile of tins he’d been removing from a cupboard. They clattered across the stone floor, and his cheeks turned red.

Whilst the young boy quickly picked up each tin, you cleared your throat.

“N-No one. We were speaking about no one.”

Chan hurried to stand beside you, and he bowed immediately.

“Greetings, Prince Seokmin. Must I say it is a complete honour to cook for you and Lady Adelaide tonight. I shall put forth my best effort.”

“I am pleased to hear that,” Seokmin said, commending the boy’s display of respect, “I have arrived to deliver the menu Lady Adelaide and I would like to eat.”

The Prince then handed Chan a scroll, which had been tied shut with a tasseled, red string. As Chan busied himself in opening the paper to glean its request, Seokmin glanced you over from top to bottom. You shot him a transient glare.

Folding your arms over your chest and titling your head to the side, you announced, “we will bring your food as soon as possible.”

“Is everything well with you?” Seokmin inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Chan looked up from the unwound scroll nervously, clearly noting the palpable tension.

“Yes, Prince Seokmin. I feel brilliant.” Your tone was drier than chalk.

Some twisted part of you hoped that the Prince would pull you into the corridor, scold you for behaving so blatantly disrespectful, lean in close to your face with a fire that turned to glistering copper in his eyes. You wanted him to grip your chin like he did in the alleyway and demand you meet his gaze. In a bizarre sense, you craved to argue with him. However, Seokmin didn’t engage in anything of the sort, and a vacant feeling encompassed you whole.

“I must return to Lady Adelaide. We will be seated on the outdoor terrace, second level.”

“Yes, of course,” Chan chirped, “I will bring your appetizer shortly.”

“May it also be known that the furnace next to you Chan has not been properly cleaned from a previous service. Do not try to light any fire, or the residue could burn you.”

Chan glanced at the stove warily whilst you released an impatient sigh.

“You should really get going, sire. It’s never polite to make your lady wait.”

The Prince chuckled, and a bold smirk illuminated his face.

“Have you ever been left to wait, darling?” He asked, biting his bottom lip.

After blowing a tuft of hair from your eyes, you folded your arms over your chest and caught the young Prince in a piercing stare.

“Why must you know? I don’t kiss and tell.”

Chan had not a clue as to what sort of exchange was unpacking before him, he only knew that his presence seemed unbelievably trivial, like a dust mite. You couldn’t deny how satisfactory it felt to wind Seokmin tighter than a wire spool, attempting to snap him somehow, hoping he’d bite back brazenly.

His professional composure was teetering, you could see it. And yet, the Prince was able to sweep away his desires to bicker with you.

“Aren’t you such a well-behaved little girl?” He dug slyly, the backhanded compliment imbuing a strange rush in your blood. “I have no further business here. As I said, we are seated on the second level terrace.”

The second Seokmin parted, his beautiful cloak fluttering behind him, Chan nudged your shoulder with a big pout on his lips.

“Are you trying to get us banned from the castle? If so, you might just succeed.”

Stealing the scroll from his hands, you urged him to relax.

“Trust me,” you sighed, “I would get banned before any other soul here. Even before the cook who caused a fire hazard.”

You had great trouble focusing in the kitchen, and it seemed like your brain contained no interest in cooperating with the rest of your body. Chan noted your lack of composure and intervened on multiple occasions, a concerned expression covering his face.

It was stupid, shameful, but for an unbeknownst reason you could not stop envisioning Seokmin and Adelaide enjoying their supper together on the pretty terrace. You imagined his soft, attentive eyes tracing her lips whilst she spoke, his hand reaching across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear’s cusp, the evening sun dappling the sky golden and peach-rose. It lit a terrible feeling within your lower gut, a feeling that upset you beyond belief, made you want to run from the kitchen and bury yourself beneath mounds of bedsheets.

The thought of Seokmin marrying Adelaide, sliding that white diamond ring upon her finger, having to watch them parade around the kingdom completely and utterly in love; you hated it, and you kept losing your concentration as that bitterness consumed you.

“They seem to be enjoying everything.” Chan confirmed with a satisfied smile toward the end of service. He just returned after collecting their dishes. “At last, we can begin dessert!”

However, the boy quickly picked up on your temperate, distracted face.

“What’s the matter?” Chan grabbed your shoulder gently. “You look so upset.”

“I’m fine,” you dismissed him with an apathetic air, brushing his touch away, “will they be eating the cherry pie as you assumed? I have already prepared the crust.”

“Yes…” Chan leaned in rather close to examine your face whilst he hummed in response.

“For heaven’s sake, child—what are you doing?”

“S-Sorry,” he immediately backed away, “I-I thought—your eyes just looked so glassy.”

“I have already stated my wellbeing. Now, please get to making the filling so we may get this pie in the furnace.”

Chan grabbed the burlap sack of cherries from the cupboard and dumped them into an apple basket. He then submerged the basket in a water pail, making sure to clean the fruit until they were glistening and shiny. Together, you removed the cherry pits in order to create the sweet, sticky filling which smelled exactly like summer. Chan let you tend to setting the furnace flame whilst he leveled out the pies; however, you’d forgotten about the unusable furnace.

As you got down on your knee and reached into the underbelly of the oven with the starter flint, it was too late for Chan to make a reminder. Once the bright spark touched that mysterious residue, a gigantic flame bloomed forth and licked up the furnace walls. The second your hand felt such an incredible singe of heat, you released a loud cry and crawled away from the glowing oven, your chest heaving at the intense, searing pain that sizzled deep into your flesh. Chan was gobsmacked. He dropped the small butter knife in the pie filling and bent down whilst you tossed your head back, cursing at the pain.

“Oh God!” Chan looked paler than a snowflake. “Y-You have been burned! O-Oh no… this- this is awful! What should we do? H-Here—”

The boy helped you to your feet and brought you close to the water pail.

“Submerge your hand in this,” he offered anxiously, wiping away a bead of sweat from his forehead, “I need to alert someone of this. Are you okay? Do you believe you might faint?”

“N-No…” you gritted between your teeth whilst heavy tears streamed down your cheeks, “just get somebody – anybody. I-It hurts terribly…”

The boy rubbed your back as a sweet gesture before he left the kitchen.

“I shall return as quickly as possible! I promise!”

Unfortunately, Chan had sparse luck encountering anyone from the castle. The sole person he could think of alerting was Prince Seokmin. Whilst he was not eager to interrupt his dinner with the kingdom’s potential princess, Chan was far too concerned with your agonizing pain as well as the poor condition of your hand. He knew you needed medical assistance immediately, therefore he burst through the doors in a panic and stumbled onto the terrace, where Prince Seokmin and Lady Adelaide gave him a puzzled, somewhat undesirable look.

The young apprentice steadied his breath. Once he began informing them of the situation, he couldn’t help but note the overwhelming concern that engulfed the Prince’s face.

“I must know where the nearest nurse is located. She needs assistance and I promised I would return quickly!”

Lady Adelaide wiped the corners of her mouth with a cloth, and looked to Seokmin. Her eyes, brushed with a shimmering, metallic gold, widened beneath the evening light as the Prince stood from his chair and threw down his cutlery.

“You have left her alone? Where is she?” He questioned the apprentice.

Chan licked his dry lips. “P-Please, stay with Lady Adelaide. I-I just need to know wh—”

“Does she remain in the kitchen?” Seokmin interrupted him.

He stepped fairly close to Chan, the young boy tilting his head back in order to meet the serious gaze of the Prince. Admittedly, he felt rather intimidated.

“Yes, she is. But you mustn’t abandon Lady Adelaide. I can—”

“I will take care of her,” Seokmin replied sternly, “stay with the Lady if you wish.”

Without another word, the Prince pushed Chan aside and disappeared quickly through the terrace doors, leaving him alone on the beautiful terrace with Adelaide. She didn’t appear entirely thrilled to be abandoned in the midst of a romantic dinner, indicated by the uncomfortable expression that coloured her face. Instead, she tucked the hair behind her ears and pressed her smooth lips together tightly, staring out into the flossy, pink clouds, a calm breeze blowing through the air. Chan swallowed the rock in his throat, squeezing his hands nervously.

“I-I’m sure the Prince will return in due time.” He stuttered.

Lady Adelaide nodded, stiffened, unamused.

“I guess I will just have to wait.”

Standing at the pail whilst your marred flesh scorched beneath the water was a sensation unlike any other. Your bottom lip kept quivering, and your whole body trembled in an attempt to digest such an intense pain. Footsteps reverberated outside the kitchen, to which a hope flourished that a medical professional would be arriving alongside Chan – yet, the person who entered the room was completely disproportionate to what you’d been expecting. It wasn’t that you didn’t want his help, it was just going to be difficult to accept it.

Seokmin left his crown behind on a countertop and stood next to you.

“Let me see it.” He urged as your hand twitched in the water.

Rubbing your tears off on your shoulder, you rasped, “w-why are you here?”

“Because you’re hurt,” Seokmin replied firmly, “and whether you like it or not, I am going to look after this. You should have your hand beneath running water.”

“W-Where is Chan? I w-want him here t-too.”

“He remained with Adelaide.” The Prince sounded impatient.

“W-Why did you not stay with her? Why did you even come when you cannot stand me?”

Choosing to ignore your questions, Seokmin grabbed your wrist, pulling you to the back of the kitchen where he knew there was a well. Suckling back the thick tears and runniness in your nose, you let Seokmin guide your injured hand beneath the cold water he started pumping from the ground. It splashed onto the stone floor, trickling in all directions.

“S-Seokmin—,”

“Just keep quiet for one minute,” the Prince snapped, “I know that is strenuous for someone as verbose as you, but right now, allow me to take care of you, alright?”

For an unprecedented time in your life, you legitimately heeded Seokmin’s words and kept your mouth shut, deciding it was not worth the energy to act so bitter. Whilst the running water succeeded in cleaning any sediment from the wound, the sensitive flesh stung and flared to a degree that was impossible to ignore, leaving you unable to suppress any small sobs and whimpers. If not for Seokmin holding your hand beneath the water, you would have withdrawn it immediately.

You pushed your face into his chest, your tears wetting his clothing. Seokmin shushed you softly, attempting to keep you calm.

“I know it hurts, but you’re doing so well, okay? A minute longer darling, I promise.”

You felt Seokmin’s chin sit on top of your head, and you only pushed your cheek in further against his strong chest, smelling the faint concoction of a luxurious perfume on his amber skin. Somehow, the pain became more bearable when his honeyed voice touched your ears.

“H-Has it been a minute now?” You sniffled.

The cold stream of water that once gushed from the spout diminished. Whilst the floor was rippling with a wide, wet circle, your hand felt less seared, less like a piece of charred meat.

“Mmhm, it’s been a minute,” Seokmin said, “how badly does it still hurt?”

Glancing at the wound imbued an intense cloud of nausea.

“I-It’s throbbing, a-and stings. Should we not wrap it?” You blubbered.

Seokmin brushed his fingers along your warm cheek, removing the new tears.

“Not immediately, angel. If the flesh is too fragile, the cloth might pull up more layers of tissue when it is removed. There should be an ointment station, over here—,” the Prince placed his hand against the small of your back, and you followed him toward a counter, “if the correct gel is in here, my hope is that it soothes your skin. Afterward, we will wrap it cautiously.”

Your injured hand was shaking too much, so you had to grasp your wrist tightly in order to centre it to one place. Seokmin opened a drawer filled with small, glass ampules. He picked between them carefully until coming across the correct ointment, a clear gel that had a strong, plant-like scent when he pulled out the tiny cork. Smearing the glistening gel onto his fingertips, the Prince then asked to see your hand. Knowing it would sting, you clenched your teeth.

“I’m not being too rough, am I?” Seokmin asked, concentrating on softly massaging in the vital ointment.

Exhaling stiltedly, you shook your head. “It’s getting better, I believe.”

“This is quite deep,” he remarked, scooping up more of the gel, “why on earth did you use the furnace upon my instruction not to?”

“I was not thinking about the furnace.” You admitted, biting down into your cheek.

Seokmin couldn’t help but chuckle.

He had just finished applying the cool gel, which gleamed on your skin and sunk into the damaged tissue. Additionally, stuffed somewhere in the drawer was a compact spool of bandage that the Prince started unraveling, until he tore a perfect strip to delicately wrap around your hand. Your heart began racing and heat stippled your face as the boy finally looked up from the injury. His eyes were so unbelievably gentle, his lips the colour of roses. It reflected a painstakingly familiar memory, in which you could almost hear the river running in the background and feel the pleasant sunlight warm your arms.

“Then what was on your mind?” Seokmin questioned.

His voice was low, and he stared unabashedly at your mouth.

You didn’t think – you didn’t want to.

Instead, you pushed to the very back of your skull every malevolent thought you once harboured toward the Prince and shut your eyes, envisioning yourself within a dream. You pressed a short, soft kiss against his mouth.

There was a moment’s pause where Seokmin realized the situation.

Suddenly, he cupped the sides of your face in his tender hands, urging you forward again, his lips brushing yours in such a gentle manner that a shiver tingled down your spine. It was far from a single, fleeting kiss. Each time your lips pressed together, you would linger for a moment longer and fall deeper into the other, losing all sense of the world around you. A molten warmth expanded in your chest as you felt Seokmin’s tongue make a soft prod at your bottom lip, encouraging you to sigh blissfully into the kiss. He smiled at your quiet noises.

What was happening to you? You struggled to control your own functions. Seokmin was eliciting a powerful feeling that yearned for you to continue kissing. His slender fingers drifted from your face to your hips, and he pulled you tighter against his body, each kiss revealing the other’s burning want and secret desires. As you suckled slowly on Seokmin’s tongue, listening to him purr, there was a rich, unique taste of cider. It prompted you to think about dinner, about Chan who’d gone looking for a nurse, about Lady Adelaide.

As soon as her face entered your mind, something switched off inside you and your blood transformed into cold liquid.

“S-Seokmin,” you murmured, disconnecting the sweet pressure of your mouth to his, “I-I... I don’t think we’re in our right minds.”

Your eyes began filling with water whilst you gazed at his pink cheeks and the pretty swell to his lips. The boy grabbed both your hands with a concerned expression, holding them against his chest where you felt his heart beat.

“What do you mean, angel?” Seokmin whispered. He then planted a kiss much too affectionate against your forehead, in which your eyes only grew more watery. “I haven’t anything to drink if that’s what you’re implying.”

“N-No.” You shook your head and looked into his eyes, swallowing back the dreadful taste of pain, of a relationship you could never have, of a boy you could never have. “We cannot do this... t-this is not just...”

“Wait—” Seokmin stuttered when you pulled away from him, “where are you going? We can talk about this.” His voice trembled slightly, heavy with sorrow.

“Stay with me, please.”

But there was nothing he could say or do that would cement you to your spot.

An overwhelming wave of emotion surged through your body, and you knew you had to leave the castle grounds unless you wanted the royal family to see you explode into a mess of hot tears and incoherency. Whilst you slipped through the kitchen door, you bumped into Chan who just returned from the second level terrace, his eyes growing wide when he noted the dreadful shadow that hollowed your countenance. The boy swallowed thickly, for the next person to enter the hallway was Lady Adelaide herself, who did not look pleased at the wait.

“A-Are you o—”

“I cannot stay here,” you told Chan in a quick jumble, “I am going to the house. Please, take care of the dessert if you can manage.”

Lady Adelaide stepped aside, allowing you to escape the corridor.

Everything felt like it was collapsing around you.

It was nighttime as you sat in your bed, a candle flickering on the windowsill whilst you examined the neat bandages that enveloped your hand. You couldn’t sleep. Chan was sent home early from the castle by Prince Seokmin, and he attempted to check on you with plentiful knocks to the front door; however, you didn’t possess the right spirit to answer him and instead covered your teary face with the bedsheets until he left. You were infuriated at yourself for kissing the Prince. Inside, your heart felt mercilessly torn up and shredded.

Continuing to look out the window, you were intrigued by a fluttering, orange orb that eventually paused on the leaves of a tall sunflower. It was a firefly.

Quickly, you reached for the silver Danish tin on your bedside table and pulled out the carving knife in addition to the small, smooth disc of beech wood. It was difficult to make incisions in the wood with an injured hand, though you simply bit your lip and didn’t allow the pain to phase you. Making tiny scratches with the fine, sharp tip of the blade, you spent the next hour, maybe more, carving a tiny firefly into the beech wood. When you looked back into your drawer, you spotted a silver-beaded chain, and an idea instantly shaped in your head.

You decided to make the wooden emblem into a necklace.

From the kitchen, you could hear Chan speaking with a new ensemble of customers who entered the bakery, the sound of their abundant coins rattling across the countertop and the apprentice’s cheerful tone as he wrapped their food in wax parchment. You hadn’t spent much time behind the counter that day, for your mood was no better than a cat who’d just been stuck in a thunderstorm. Chan advised you to stay in the kitchen instead. Since that morning, you’d either been making loaves of banana bread or staring into space.

There seemed to be an unsettled atmosphere about the kingdom. Most if not always, it indicated there was a problem at the castle, some sort of dispute amongst the royal family.

Whilst you waited for the loaves in the furnace to rise, you put your head down on the work bench and gazed at the stone floor. You had never felt so off-kilter. The fact you couldn’t do much more than mush bananas and whisk together a batter only added to your melancholy. After burning your hand, you were rather useless in the kitchen, though Chan had a much politer way of wording it whenever you attempted to help him with anything the least bit complex. You wouldn’t be surprised if he replaced you with Seungkwan in the near future.

Once the aromatic, sweet scent of the banana bread thoroughly encompassed the kitchen, you checked on the tin and decided it was time to remove it. Letting the bread sit next to an open window, you heard more muffled conversation through the door.

Suddenly, Chan had slipped into the kitchen. His expression was awfully nervous, to which an unpleasant feeling began brewing your lower gut.

“Your presence is needed at the counter.” Chan said flatly.

“Why is that?” You smiled. “I thought you preferred me locked up back here until closing.”

When the apprentice didn’t return your warmth, you knew there was something wrong.

“You are really needed at the counter.” He urged. “I will cut the bread, okay?”

“O-Okay…” You responded in a puzzled manner, allowing Chan to slip around you and grab a butter knife from the drawer.

Walking out from the kitchen was equivalent to getting a slap in the face, a splinter between your toes, a hard poke in the eye – basically anything undesirable constituted the situation you just introduced yourself to. Prince Seokmin stood on the opposite side of the counter. It appeared as though he recently returned from a valley trip with a congregation of other knights, for he was dressed in his heavyset armour and Apple was tied to a post outside shop.

Seokmin brushed his hair back and smiled at you.

“I know you are surprised to see me, but—,”

“No no no,” you shook your head and gripped the counter tightly, your legs feeling like thin jelly, “you cannot be here, y-you cannot—”

“I have to speak with you.” Seokmin said.

Your eyes flitted toward a metal bucket sitting in the corner.

“Not right now,” you spluttered quickly, “I have to refill the water, for our kitchen.”

The Prince frowned. You were surprised he wasn’t swathed in his usual entourage, that his closest companion, Jeonghan, was nowhere to be seen. Whilst you scooped the bucket from the floor and rushed toward the bakery doorway, Seokmin knew you were only using it as an excuse to avoid him. What else could you do? Your heart was far too fragile.

“This is just as much an inconvenience to myself as well as you,” the Prince announced very staidly, “you know this conversation must happen. Why bother avoiding it?”

Seokmin followed you through the doorway, where Apple was grazing at a patch of honeysuckle in the grass. You refused to look back at him.

“Exactly! It is an inconvenience that can easily be avoided if you return to the castle.”

Marching behind the bakery, you threw the metal bucket on the ground and kicked it under the well, pumping it full of cold water. .

“I refuse to return. Not until we talk about what happened!”

“Maybe I do not want to entertain that idea!” You let go of the handle, instead whipping around, facing the persistent Prince. “It was a mistake! That’s it!”

Seokmin shook his head. “Why are you so hostile? Why can you never discuss anything without starting an argument?”

You didn’t bother suppressing your scoff. “Have you ever noticed the only person I treat with such hostility, is you? Has that ever crossed your mind, Prince Seokmin?”

“Of course I know!” He quipped whilst frustratedly dragging a hand through his curls. “It has always been that way! That is why I always have to scorn you, since you behave so bitterly!”

“There is no one but yourself to blame.” You hissed, sensing the water prickle at your eyes.

The Prince looked stunned, for his mouth dropped open. “You still hold onto that memory so vehemently?”

At even the slightest reference to that humiliating, summer day forever engrained in your past, the heat flooded your eyes and you were completely helpless to stop the first tear from rolling down your cheek. There was no doubt, since that incident your hatred for Seokmin had completely blossomed, and in response to your poorly controlled anger, the Prince was left no choice but to respond with just as much belligerence. The ground between you grew terribly thick brambles and spikes, until it was impossible to even be in the same space without getting hurt.

Yet, if your hatred was exactly what you claimed it was, then your kiss with Seokmin should have never happened. Hatred was merely a dark, sinister form of passion, and no matter what circumstance, passion always lived inside your heart.

Wiping the tears away with the sleeve of your dress, you shook your head. “You humiliated me in front of half the royal’s children! How could I ever dismiss that?”

The Prince furrowed his brow. “That was ages ago. We were exactly that: children. Children can be stupid and say stupid and do stupid things!”

“I just don’t understand why you pretended for so long,” you whimpered to Seokmin, tightly clenching your fists, “if you never even liked me from the start…”

“I-I wasn’t pretending… I just couldn’t… I-I…” The Prince struggled to elaborate.

Suddenly, he could no longer look you in the eye, and a raspberry tint flooded his cheeks. You gulped, a dizzying sensation infiltrating your head as you willed your heart to stop beating so vivaciously.

Seokmin took a step closer toward you, an anxious colour to his face.

“If you just let me explain what I came here to tell you,” he murmured, “then perhaps we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats so adamantly.”

You folded your arms over your chest and pressed your lips shut. The silence was daunting, but at the same time you realized the bickering would lead to endless circles.

The Prince summoned a breath of courage and met your wet stare.

“I refused the marriage to Lady Adelaide. She will return to Markarth before the sunset. I only told my mother and father this morning.”

Slowly uncrossing your arms, you blinked at Seokmin in complete shock.

“S-Seriously?” You stammered, sweat tainting your palms.

“I had to,” Seokmin sighed, his eyes trailing the grass, “because of what happened with u—”

“I did not ask you to refuse her as a bride!” You hiccupped, salt glimmering at your tear ducts. To be the reason the kingdom’s next marriage crumpled apart, you couldn’t bear it.

“I know you didn’t!” The Prince retaliated, his voice booming. “Do you not think I am already aware of the great misfortune and trouble my decision brings to our kingdom? I did not refuse Lady Adelaide because we kissed – I refused the marriage because I do not love her, and it would be an utter disservice to both of us if we cannot reciprocate our own hearts.”

You bit down strictly on your bottom lip. It absolutely boggled your mind that Seokmin felt no love toward Lady Adelaide, when everyone who saw her fell head over heels. Whether it was her beauty, wealth, or the perfect sweetness of her character, everyone in the kingdom had something positive to say in regards to their potential princess. Maybe you had not gelled with her in the same manner as everyone else, but you knew this marriage had been anticipated since the day Seokmin was born, and the fact such a monumental celebration would have to be pushed back created a recipe for tension.

The Prince set his hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly.

“That is what I had to tell you,” he spoke in a much gentler tone, “it was not my intention to anger you, or make you this upset. But I have to remain honest with myself…”

“W-What are you saying?” Sounded your trembling, unsteady breath.

The sunlight splashed into Seokmin’s eyes, igniting them in a blazing copper. You felt swelteringly hot as the boy brushed against your cheek with his fingers before he leaned in close to your face, still damp with tears. You couldn’t concentrate on anything apart from the low velvet of his voice and how sincerely he admired you.

“I’m saying that I’m in love with you.”

Just before you entered the cool balm of the river, you spent a few moments stroking Apple’s caramel mane and picking berries from the nearest thicket to feed her. For such a strong, firmly-built horse, she was delicate in nature, just as you remembered her from your childhood. You ran your palm along the coarse side of Apple’s fur, scratching lightly so her ears would twitch, before hearing Prince Seokmin lilt your name. When you looked to the river, you saw him grinning at you, his black hair soaking wet and pushed back from his forehead.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to stand there for an eternity?”

“No,” you replied, “I was just looking after your horse.”

“Trust me, Apple gets pampered more than I do.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed the pale lilac hem of your dress, peeling the material over your head and letting it fall into a ball on the grass. In nothing but your undergarments, Seokmin gazed at you fondly, watching how you carefully waded deeper and deeper into the river until your toes could hardly scrape the smooth pebbles. Afternoon sunlight spun between the canopy of leaves overhead, which dappled the calm peaks in the water, making them sparkle. Seokmin swam closer to you. He was truly breathtaking as the rays caressed his amber skin and danced in his eyes like a honey fire.

The boy’s fingers brushed your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist and drape your arms over his wide shoulders. He held you tightly, his lips forming a lovestruck smile.

“Will your anxious mother not worry as to why her son has been out for so long?” You couldn’t help but tease him.

“I told her I would not be back for supper. At worst, she’ll send Jeonghan as my scout.”

“Do you think he could keep his mouth shut if he saw us together?”

Seokmin titled his head back with laughter, and you could see his perfect rows of teeth. “I have little certainty,” he admitted, “but Jeonghan would keep a secret if I forced him to.”

“That is reassuring to hear.” You replied with a smirk.

It was best to give the kingdom ample time to recover after the displeasing news of Seokmin’s cancelled marriage with Adelaide rapidly spread. She was supposed to be his first choice, his destiny as the King and Queen preached with every ounce of their souls. Furthermore, the royal family would definitely not be mirthful to discover that Seokmin had rejected Adelaide because his heart beat for a childhood crush from the lower village. That was unheard of, unfathomable, and rather unorthodox, which caused you and Seokmin to keep your relationship a secret.

At times there was pressure, there was great difficulty and frustration, but neither you or him could keep away from each other. You didn’t have to be married, or live in his sumptuous castle where everything was either expensive silk or encrusted with some sort of precious gem. It was quite simple: you just wanted to be with him – the environment wasn’t important. When you began seeing each other, you realized that on the summer day of your childhood where the Prince had humiliated you was a shtick orchestrated by his friends.

In actuality, Seokmin always had a crush on you, though at the time, the tender strings of his heart were easily pulled by them, and what could have been the start of a relationship ended up in years of bickering, unnecessary hatred, and repressed emotion. Cupping a hand against Seokmin’s damp cheek, you leaned in to kiss him softly. You smiled against his mouth upon feeling his hands squeeze your thighs.

“Can I give you something?” You then asked in a quiet voice.

The Prince nodded, allowing your feet to touch the pebbles again.

“Of course, angel.” He complied.

Together, you left the river. Whilst Seokmin started petting Apple’s shimmering coat, you picked up the dress on the forest floor and reached into one of its pockets, brushing the beaded chain with your fingers. When Seokmin turned around and saw you holding a necklace, his eyes lit up in a marvelous fashion and an endearing smile beamed from one corner of his mouth to the other. It was the beech wood necklace, in which you had carved a small firefly in order to complete the pendant.

“I carved this from a piece of wood I discovered outside your castle, on the day Chan and I had to cook for the pages. At first, I had no idea what to make of it, but then I decided on a firefly.”

Seokmin admired the pendant up close. It felt wonderful to see him examining it with such an appreciative light in his gaze. The Prince connected the chain around his neck, to which the wooden oval sat between his prominent collarbone.

“I-I thought I should gift it to you. And, whenever we must be apart, you can just think of this necklace, and the comfort that comes from a firefly’s glow.”

Suddenly, the boy’s hands were atop your hips. He pulled you in close against his body, still gleaming with water droplets, and pressed a deep kiss to your lips. You could sense just how much ardour and warmth was laced into the contact, and a dense heat scattered beneath your cheeks. He tasted like the sugar powder and strawberries you ate before visiting the river.

“It’s beautiful.” Seokmin whispered.

He pecked your mouth again sweetly whilst you felt a gentle breeze blow throughout the forest, causing the tiny hairs on your damp skin to stand sharp. You cozied yourself closer into Seokmin’s chest, smiling like a foolish romantic at his words.

“Thank you, my love. I will hold onto it forever.”

✧✎ a/n: okay when i started writing this i THOUGHT it was going to be so short, like at most 4-6k, but then i was at the 6k mark, only halfway done, and i realized it was going to be another ‘wish’ situation lol. i’ve never written a royalty!au before so i felt like i was reaching into the dark a little bit jsefhwef but i hope it was still pleasant! as always i treasure all ur guys feedback so pls don’t hesitate to leave ur th0ts!! i haven’t written for seok in ages and it felt super nice to give him a lengthy fic! contrary to nobody’s belief - this was not inspired by owl city lol.

#seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen seokmin #seokmin scenarios #lee seokmin #seokmin angst #seokmin fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt x reader #enemies to lovers

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harrysgoldenbum · 5 years ago

Text

Want You pt. 2

Sorry for the delay, but having you internet crash does that to you. I hope you like pt. 2 ;) The last and final part should be up tomorrow... hopefully! thanks again @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h and @oh-honey-styles for letting me join the fun!

Catch up: Part 1

--Y/N gives in, but things don’t go as planned--

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Smut

Y/N is going to have to get a new vibrator. All week she has imagined Harry pleasuring her. Y/N would make herself cum multiple times and she still was not satisfied. Even temporary. She’s been thing about how Harry’s lips felt against her skin. The words he whispered to her.

She laid there in bed with her hands holding her vibrator between her legs. She imagines Harry’s perfect lips trailing down her neck to her chest. She imagines what it would feel like for him to suck on her hard nipples. She imagines him looking down at her, chest glistening with sweat. She imagines what his cock would look like, and how it would feel as he fucks her to oblivion.

But, she absolutely hates him.

But the pulse of her pussy makes it hard for her to think of anything else. She doesn’t want to fantasize about her best friend’s ex-boyfriend fucking her… or her fucking him. Y/N knows that Harry didn’t cheat on June but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t hurt her. He is everything that she doesn’t like about a guy. He has an ego that’s the size of the universe, and he thinks that all women want him.

She suddenly drags her vibrator down her fold and slides it into her. Y/N shudders and bites her bottom lip. She tries to move past the thoughts that will piss her off, she pulls her device out of her cunt and slides the smooth surface over her clit. She gasps out in pleasure. Once again her vibrator enters her pussy and Y/N imagines it to be Harry’s cock.

“Oh! Fuck!” She calls out. Moving her hands faster and faster. She believes that Harry would only fuck her hard and fast.

Dragging the device over he clit again, Y/N loses all control. She starts to pluck her own nipples and starts to thrust upward, toward her pleasure machine. She wishes Harry was here with her right now. She wishes it was him bringing her closer and closer to her orgasm.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Y/N shouts, she fists her bedsheets, her wetness dripping down onto them. She gets closer and closer to her finish. She can just picture his cocky smirk as her drives into her. Flicking her clit one last time, Y/N cums. Hard.

“OH GOD!!!” she shouts.

She is in a daze for the next few minutes. Y/N takes her time to come back down to earth before she gets up to go to the bathroom to clean herself.

By the time she gets back, her phone has lit up by a text message.

Harry: I guess we both like sleeping with our windows open. You sound so hot fucking yourself. I am rock hard right now.

Y/N freezes, moisture starts to collect between her legs once again. She contemplates on sending him a message telling him to come to her apartment, but she gets another text.

Harry: I bet you were thinking about my dick just now. Tell me Y/N how badly do you want my hard dick?

And just like that, annoyance flares up in Y/N. Consuming any feeling she was having for him in that moment.

Y/N: Do yourself a favor and quit flattering yourself. Your dick has nothing on my vibrator.

She slams her phone down on her dresser and climbs into bed. She tells herself that she hates Harry Styles and hopes for a peaceful rest of the night and sleep. Y/N doesn’t get what she wanted. Harry Styles followed her into her dreams.

~~~~~~~~

“I think the universe is trying to tell us something.”

Y/N spins around in her bar stool and finds Harry Styles standing in front of her dressed in dark jeans and flannel with half the buttons unbuttoned. She bites her lip and takes a deep breath. He looks damn good.

“Is the universe trying to tell me that you are officially stalking me?!”

He leans onto the bar counter and laughs. “Nope,” he says popping the p. “Just another coincidence.” He points to a group of guys that occupy the high tables in the middle of the bar. “It’s one of my mate’s birthday, so we are out celebrating.”

“I’m meeting my sister here for a few drinks and dinner… if she gets here on time.” Y/N tells him with a shrug. Turning away from him, secretly hoping her sister won’t see her with him. She can already hear the questions she would ask.

“Whatever the reason, I am happy to see you” Harry grins.

Y/N feels butterflies erupt in her belly as she looks at Harry from the corner of her eye. It has been a bit over two weeks since their last conversation and she hasn’t heard from him since. Many times, Y/N would type out a message to send him, only for her to delete it. She had even gone as far as considering knocking at his door. She had gotten used to the attention he gave her, and his flirting did help with her ego.

She goes to say something, only to be nearly pushed out of her chair and nearly into Harry. Harry steadies her with his large hands.

“Oh, shit! My bad,” the large man said, even though he was trying to look down her top. “Let me buy you a drink babe,” he offers as he goes to touch Y/N.

Before she can say she not interested, Harry wraps his arm around her should and faces the guy. “Back off man, she’s with me.”

Shocked, Y/N looks at Harry and looks pissed.

“Shit! Okay, okay.” the man turns to leave.

Y/N shakes his arm off her and looks at him. She doesn’t know what to do. So she just sits there and stares at him.

“Another reason not to hate my guts,” Harry starts. “I will fight assholes that bother you.”

Y/N is just about to say thank you, but Harry’s friend comes over and leans heavily on him.

“Are you gonna stand here and talk to this pretty girl all night or are you going to get drunk with us Styles? Because you have fallen behind.”

With a small smile, she tells Harry to go and have fun, just as her sister walks into the bar.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and her sister are just about done with their dinner when she gets up to use the restroom. In the hallway, she sees Harry coming out of the men’s room. He stops a few feet away from the restroom doors and waits for Y/N to reach him.

“How was dinner?” he asks.

“Alright, same questions and same answers. Tried the steak salad.” Y/N said vaguely, even though throughout dinner, all Y/N could think about was Harry sitting a couple of yards away from her.

“You know I can grill a delicious steak.” Harry steps closer to her, their chests nearly touching each other. Y/N’s breath falters. “If you’d give me a chance�� I’ll make it worth your time.”

“Why are you doing this,” she whispers. “What do you want from me?”

Harry’s eyes trail across her face. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Y/N frowns at his question. She starts a different conversation with him. “Okay, look I admit, maybe you aren’t that bad of a guy. But I usually don’t go for the arrogant, overconfident dude who sees himself as a gift for the female race.”

A grin takes over his face and a low chuckle leaves his mouth. He looks so happy, Y/N’s breath catches in her throat.

“You should stop fighting it, love.” He looks pleased with her confession. “I already heard you through the window how bad you want it.”

With a scowl, “You know that isn’t going to help your case.”

Raising his hands up as an act of surrender, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

With a sigh, Y/N roles her eyes. She looks into his eyes and as cliche, as it sounds, gets lost in them. Both Harry and Y/N don’t know how long they stand there, in each other’s presence. It wasn’t until someone bumped into Harry’s shoulder do they break away from each other.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N breaks their silence, “There’s still June.”

Harry stiffens at the mention of her name.

“Looks, it’s been six months and yeah we didn’t end on the best terms, but I never lied to her. We would have broken up anyway. She wanted to move across and I didn’t. It wouldn’t have worked out.

Y/N takes in every word, it was almost like he was pleading for her to believe him and to give him a shot. Like he was begging her not to hold this against him forever.

Pushing the subject of June out of her mind, Y/N tries to focus on something else. Anything else. “You don’t even know anything about me,” she starts. Trying to come up with reasons why they won’t work as the last stand of defense.

“So give me the chance to, love.”

Just as she is about to respond, Y/N’s sister comes in looking for her. “Oh! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you! I was wondering where you disappeared to! I have to get home Jack has an earache and Danny is hopeless with the baby. Do you need a ride?”

With a glance toward Harry, she tells her sister that she will be right out. As her oblivious sister leaves, she turns back to Harry. “I’ll see you around Harry.”

He leans down and kisses her cheek and steps out of her way.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N wasn’t sure about what was going on. Were they on a date? She looks at Harry from the corner of her eye. He’s sitting on her couch watching a movie. Y/N isn’t even sure what movie is playing, but that’s the only source of lighting in the room.

He had stopped by to drop off more of his baked goods. This time it was red velvet cupcakes with buttercream. (Y/N had texted him to tell him how much she had liked his coffee cake.) And somehow that led to her inviting him in for a movie.

They were sitting close to each other but they were not touching. Harry hadn’t tried to put the moves on her yet. The way he was sitting, it clearly indicated that his focus was solely on the movie.

She let her eyes roam over his side profile. His defined jaw, his straight nose, his tattooed arm, and his plump lips. When she was least expecting it, Harry starts to turn his head toward her. She quickly shifted her eyes to the TV, hoping that he didn’t catch her staring at him.

She knows that she is overdoing the ‘hard to get’ challenge she had set up for him. At this point, she doesn’t care anymore. She knows that he isn’t Prince Charming, nor is he her White Knight. But she wants him. She wants him to fuck her.

Taking a deep breath, she leans forward and places her hand on his forearm. Harry looks at her with confusion. Y/N looks into his eyes before she lowers her gaze to his full lips.

She moves toward him slowly, wanting to pull his lower lip into her mouth. When she is no more than a half an inch away, he turns his head. Completely stopping Y/N.

Shocked, Y/N freezes. Suddenly the humiliation catches up to her, she pulls away and crawls to the farthest end of the sofa.

“Oh my god… oh god!” She mutters running her hands through her hair.

“Y/N,” Harry begins in what sounds like a patronizing voice. She wants her living room floor to swallow her whole.

“Shut up!” she snaps. “Shut the fuck up! Get out Harry! Get out of my house!” She can’t look at him. She wants to erase this moment from her life. “I can’t believe you get me to the point where you’ve got me so worked up and actually want you, and what do you do?! You reject me.”

“Y/N,” he tries again. This time just a little louder. But Y/N still can’t look at him.

“Please leave,” she begs.

Before she knows it, Harry is pulling her leg and she is flat on her back. He settles between her legs.

“Will you listen to me!?” His hands move toward her shorts and he pulls them down her legs.

She gasps in shock. Her heart beating so fast she is worried she might pass out. Y/N is left in her cotton panties and her baggy shirt. Harry pulls his own athletic shorts down and once again places himself between her legs.

“You don’t think I don’t want this?” He growls in her ear, he presses his rock hard cock against her. His heat and the friction caused by his rutting has her crying out in pleasure.

He pushes against her again, Harry feels her wetness seep as it through her underwear. Y/N is overwhelmed by the pleasure he is giving her. The way he moves his hips has her panting in minutes. She circles her legs around the back of his thighs and starts to follow his rhythm. Amplifying the euphoria.

She has never enjoyed dry humping so fucking much.

“Harry!” She cries out when he moves his hand down and into her panties. He finds her clit and starts rubbing in a circular motion.

“I love hearing you say my name,” he pants. He drops his head to her neck and starts to press kisses along it. “Is this what you wanted,” his growls when his pleasure starts to overtake his body. He pinches her nipple through her shirt.

Y/N arches toward him. She feels hollow, empty, like something important is missing. “Oh god!” she moans.

“What,” Harry whispers, “huh? What’s the matter? You want my cock?”

He starts to hump her faster. “Is that what your needy pussy wants?”

Y/N cries out as she cums. Her orgasm washes over her and she watches Harry through her lowered eyelids. He ruts against her once, twice, three times before he cups himself and cums in his had.

He cleans himself up and pulls his shorts back on. Y/N feels like her body is floating like she had no control over it.

Nasty thoughts start to invade her and she does what she can to push them out of her mind.

“Don’t feel like you have to stay until the movies over,” she forces out, “we both got what we wanted.”

Harry’s face crumbles. Hurt, he pulls away and sits up. Not looking in her direction.

“What?!” Y/N snaps defensively. “You didn’t want to kiss me. So I don’t expect you to want to stay and cuddle.”

Harry stands from his seat and starts to walk to the door. Just as he is going to open the door, he turns to face her. “I didn’t kiss you Y/N, because when I kiss you for the first time, I want it to be real. I want you more than an easy fuck.”

The words shock Y/N. She stands and looks at him. Really looks at him.

She took to long to respond, so Harry opens the door and looks at her one more time. “Don’t worry, I won’t get my hopes up on you wanting the same thing from me that I want from you.”

He closes the door softly, leaving Y/N alone in her apartment. With one thought ringing clearly in her mind. Harry Styles was not who she thought he was.

Part 3 Here

#pypfc #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #enemies to lovers #my work #original writing #new writer #harry styles one shot #smut one shots harry styles #one direction fanfiction #want you #niall horan #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zyan malik #one direction smut

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kaetastic · 4 years ago

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LINGERING EYES

pairing: Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!Reader

summary: The Peaky Blinders spend their night at a ball, however, Isaiah notices the wandering eyes of other men on the second youngest Shelby.

word count: 3.5k

warning: slightly nsfw ?? jealousy, mention of blood, mention of violence, language

note: I loved writing this one! The flow was so smooth and I couldn’t stop writing, so here it is! I was hit with inspiration after checkin’ out some prompts (i saw them on pinterest so i don’t know who’s the original blog, if it’s you please dm me 🥺)

“Take my coat.”

White— pearly beads of opal tears were poked through with a piercing needle. The bawling drops of clams drooped from the yellow ceiling, hanging low as gravity clung onto the strands. While shuffling of polished shoes screeched into the air, ear-drumming squeals from yanked corks paced to overlap obnoxious laughs. The laughs worthed grands; the laugh of slithering serpents.

Despite the approaching night, there was no heaviness resting upon the awaken eyes, which only led to the fact that they have tolerated and befriended the aspect of long nights. Long nights of claimed hard work. Long nights of staying at work late to complete the pending task, allegedly. Bitterly, the woman who strayed near the marble bar assumed, even though she knew she was right.

The lavish dress she wore that she plucked out of the most expensive rack in the store were no different than those women who were present. The women who had been dragged out from the comfort of their home to flutter a smile while they drowned in their husband’s gold, not knowing their mistress circled nearby. However, her privilege of wearing the fabric that was enough to feed a whole village was not the same as them. While it might not be her money, she knew that Thomas’s money was now as legitimate as the rest, despite the fluttering rumours weaving from mouth to ears.

Y/N grew up on streets that reeked of feculent piss and mud as face-paint. They, on the other hand, were nurtured by a maid, money already swimming in their bloodstreams while their parents spent days on end overseas.

‘You’re not a Peaky, Y/N.’ As the tornado in her champagne flute swirled, she glared at the red wine with irritated eyes. Despite her hating the proper way of holding the glass which was as posh as it could be, she reminded herself to where she was and who breathed in the same room as her. Recalling the talk she sat with her older sister who believed that the woman shouldn’t even bother to relieve her presence to the party, Y/N beamed her eyes at the smearing grey against the whites of the marble counter. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the destiny the Shelby’s will be cursed by, but heartfelt conversations were rare. The woman needed to get it out of her chest. She needed to tell her older sister the lingering eyes when she would walk down the streets. The elderly knew of the tainted reputation of the Shelby’s name, the main theme of the conversations whispered behind their backs. ‘No, but I’m a Shelby.’

That’s what she’ll always be. Just a Shelby. Not the woman who struggled through the obstacles of maintaining a deaf ear to her colleagues who would whisper under their breaths about her and her background. No matter what curtain draped over her, she’ll be seen as the younger sister of a gangster. Gypsy Shelby. Carnival wanderers. Y/N, the woman who sipped on wine in the dress of the same colour, will forever be known as Birmingham’s Infamous Gangster’s Little Sister.

Y/N was no longer the giggling child who swam through mud; she was no longer the girl with dangling tooths who hid her older brothers’ socks under her bed. Even Arthur, the eldest, has admitted how times have changed. Sitting on the stool was a woman, not a girl. A woman with cold, crystal eyes of a smeared cerulean blue that can only be glistened at a certain angle of light, a woman who had been prize hung upon the fair’s walls for men who were up to the challenge- that was until they heard of her last name. Unless they were cowards, they tiptoed away with the utmost silent steps. It was barely a handful of men who found the challenge of swooning the woman to be entertaining.

However, to be in radar with the Peaky Blinders themselves; to be in their loyal, trusted ranks, Isaiah Jesus just couldn’t find a fuck to give. There had been countless times he had seen eyes grazing over her figure, ogling her as if a taunting piece of meat. Would he be different to their scandalous actions? No, because he would do the same. The man just had a more discreet manner of observation. People with a name and money to flaunt might’ve shoved him to the edge since deep down, he knew that he’ll never be like them. But, at the end of the day, who was deep in her while she breathlessly screamed out?

“What?” Once her eyes peeled away from the intense rolling of liquid in her champagne flute, she shot a perplexed glance at the iconic oversized coat he would constantly wear. It seemed the memo to wear different had not reached the man. Her orbs glimpsed back to his face as if he had gone mental. The room had a barely noticeable breeze of wind that only kissed those who strayed next to the golden, colossal windows.

“I said take my coat.” Isaiah repeated, arm extending, urging the woman to take it.

There was no jest in his eyes. Isaiah wasn’t playing around, “It’s fucking hot in here.” There weren’t any trails of sweat visible on the woman, but there were beads of them crawling down her back. It seeped down through the minuscule crack of space between the velvet dress and her glossy back. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the same case for those who did not handle well with heat as some elderly men incessantly wiped their foreheads with their lavish cloth.

“Just fucking take it.” Isaiah didn’t mean to take another glance, but he did. Accidentally. The group of vigilant observing eyes did not quiver from the pair, well, it was mostly attached to the woman who was sipping on the red wine. However, the closeness of Isaiah and the Shelby had brought alarming thoughts in their heads. There wasn’t a plan so it wjasn’t part of it, it was more of an impulsive act of decision when one of them shot up from the seat.

In the corner of Isaiah’s eyes was a blur of an approaching figure, increasing in size. The pace was casual, gait relaxed with his hands tucked in the pocket of his waistcoat. A haze of shimmering gold sparkled, the intensity of the blaring reflection multiplied by a tenfold.

“I’m gonna suffocate, I can’t breathe already.” Y/N scoffed, mouth finding solace in the half-drunk wine.

With every step, Isaiah’s eyes wavered back onto the woman. A fire burnt in his chest, no, it roared behind his eyes as fury dumped a barrel of petrol into the growing rage. Doubts settled in. Was it truly rage? Or was he scooting around the idea of jealousy? Before his head caught a glimpse of his peripheral, his hands were already chained around Y/N’s wrist. A satisfied smirk crept up on his lips when the figure halted in his steps. Watching the woman he was about to approach thrash in the man’s grip, he gawked.

“Isaiah!” Although eyes were darted towards the catastrophic scene, Isaiah didn’t bat an eye, head too blurry with satisfaction. Y/N with ajar opened mouth was yanked away from her barely finished wine. It tasted rich. A privilege she had been surrounded with only recently. “What the fuck was that?”

Once he managed to drag her into a hallway of stacked barrels, he finally noticed the dripping beads of tears from the leaking metal pipe. As teardrops descended from the sobbing pipe, it puddled on the miniature lake. The hallway felt exposed to the frosty night of London. A breeze of the chilly air overflowed through the cracked open hopper windows.

Not too long ago Y/N was clamouring with the pungent odour, now, she was sure the secretion had become icicles, frozen. Isaiah wasn’t so different, his shoulders remained in the stance of shock. After yanking her hand out of his grasp, the dishevelled woman beamed at the man. His flared nose was tinted red. While he pressed his lips shut, the echoing noise of the bawling pipe trickled in to fill in the pregnant silence.

An exasperated sigh fell off his lips, “They were fucking you with their eyes.” Blinking in disbelief, she let out a scoff. The reason he had dragged her was because people were looking at her? Well, fucking her with their eyes?

“So what? And who the fuck are you to bother?” Isaiah’s jaw ticked. How was he to answer? The man himself didn’t know how to reply. Thoughts resounded off his head, springing from one side to the other as he tried his best to think of an answer. There was fire roaring in his chest. A flicker of blue plastered across the dancing red canvas. It burned hotter than a summer’s day, flaring scorches of heat than heatwaves when one would stray around the furnace who had been chugged by boulders of dusty coal. But actions speak louder than words. As his eyes flickered to meet hers, the flame on the candle died with a blow of air.

Isaiah was fired up, chest taut, fingers clenched, ready to hurl it in their faces’. It all vanished. The anger, the fire, the stirred up hurricane, it all wiped off from existence. Her hair that was once a coiled perfection which was a result of an hour of refining each and every lock, had become a wild, untamed bunch. It was no different to that of her hairstyle she would wear in the creaking morning after an exhausting night of moans and groans. The pearl necklace that draped down her neck sat on her shoulder, clumping up a rubble even though it hung above her cleavage a few minutes ago.

Frigid bites of the brick wall pierced into her skin. The bleeding words that rested on her tongue were exhaled into a familiar warm mouth. Long forgotten, the coat he could’ve used for defence to crawl out of the fancy ball to protect him from the chilly night, puddled into the ground. A groan grumbled out of his lips to puff into her moaning ones; although, Isaiah wasn’t sure if it was because his coat would be the absorbing cloth, soon to be drenched by the unknown liquid from the pipe, or it was because her wide open legs had curled around his hip.

There were no words exchanged, only wanton moans and guttural groans. The world around them faded into black and white before it all was swirled in a hazy blur. The tiles of the mosaic painting were soon plucked out. The world didn’t exist, just each other. There weren’t any irregular singing notes of the pipe, no blowing of wind into the cracked orifices and no boisterous thrumming of heart in their ears. It was just each other's breathing and their fingers rustling faint noises of caress.

An exhalation rolled out of her chest to gush out into the tensed air. Air that was once struck with chords of anger and jealousy, but now, it was trickling with need and lust. Knocking the back of her head into the wall, the gaps between her fingers were spurting of his curly locks. The piercing cones smeared over the brick walls embedded into her skin. If his mouth wasn’t planting bruises on her skin, it would’ve hurt a lot more.

“Saiah... fuck, no hickeys...” Stuttering between heavy breathing which was from the nipping of his teeth on her skin below her ears, Y/N finally managed to breathe out the words. Although it had been an unspoken rule which was brought up only once (the first time they fucked), Isaiah couldn’t give a fuck. To have the Shelby’s as a boss, Isaiah had somewhat familiarized himself with the gears spinning in their heads while he watched them work on the field. Not Thomas Shelby, never Thomas Shelby. The man was impossible to see through, just like the murky canals of Birmingham. If his siblings had not succeeded in reading his mind, what miracle did he possess if he could do so?

So it was no wonder the pair had not taken the risk of overlooked details such as markings on their necks to be seen. There was one thing Y/N could do when having scandalous ties with her brother’s employee, and that was to be one step ahead of any of them. Preferably Thomas Shelby. It was the least she could do. Nights when Isaiah would climb through her windows, she would complain about the aching in her stomach beforehand. Although, that plan nearly blew up on her face as Polly had incessantly banged on her door to check up on her paining niece. Oh, how they all would’ve lost their shit if they knew Isaiah was deep in her, thrusting his hips with lust before her aunt lingered outside her door.

Y/N always pondered to how everyone would react to their relationship. Relationship? There never was an appropriate time where the two sat down to discuss the fire sparking between them. Even though she had tried to bring it up at points, it always led her to a moaning mess. The pair had scooted around the topic, ignoring its existence. But for how long? The stunt Isaiah had pulled back not too long ago was of pure jealousy, the feeling of someone else eyeing something of his. It was not something he had felt before, ever.

Pulling his lips away, his eyes grazed over the masterpiece he had painted. Streaks of red trailed across the side of her neck in peculiar directions. While Isaiah admired his prominent markings, Y/N noted the curled up corners of his lips and his gazing eyes on the scene. Oh, she was too late. Worried if her brothers were to see Isaiah’s branding, formulas were scribbled in her head. All she had to do was avoid everyone, Finn and Arthur especially if she didn’t want a wildfire to burn. Finn who was still a babe had curious eyes and quick fluttering lips, Arthur on the other hand just had an agile tongue and a rock as a fist. If one of them was to even peek a glance at the hickey, the news would’ve crossed the other side of England. Ada was easy to avoid as the woman was not present at the party; however, Y/N could not imagine her never-ending rambling. Knowing her older sister, she was sure it would lead to pregnancy and stubborn questions about the mysterious guys.

The trio of Thomas, John and Polly was one to keep in mind. Y/N herself wasn’t sure why she had grouped the three together, but she knew they had one thing in common. Merciless. She wasn’t sure how it would proceed if one of them was to gaze upon the marking; she never wanted to see it happen. While the woman who had a painted canvas on her neck was concerned with future issues to which she hoped she would never have to stumble upon, Isaiah was a smirking mess. The thought of them seeing the art he had created flicked a lighter to his gun powder. Once his eyes grazed over her shut ones and her lips pecking of silent mumbling, he let out a sigh. The woman was overthinking again. The noise of her saliva smacking on her swollen lips only made sense to her head as she went over the whole plan. Avoid, avoid and avoid. Isaiah’s eyes brushed upon her smeared lipstick, he wouldn’t be surprised if some made way on his lips.

Her train of words halted once a warm thumb grazed over her bottom lip. Although scribblings of words jotted in her head, nothing made sense as Isaiah’s lips were on hers once again. The layers of planning and never-ending what-ifs vanished, wiped from her head to be buried deep underneath the bedding of soil. Back splayed against the wall and legs around his hip, Isaiah’s fingers trailed down to clutch on her thighs, nudging the stubborn hem of her dress up, coiling it in a bunch. Tongues caressing one another while strings of wanton moaning brushed down the bristles of their throats, everything was long forgotten. There was no Thomas Shelby. There was no Peaky Blinders. Just the two of them.

“What the actual fuck.” With the familiar straining voice echoing through the narrow hallway, the feeling of need vaporized. Heat that was once beaming through their chest seeped into the air, dancing in the wind. The glass bottle in his hands shattered. Piercing shards of glass embedded into his skin, slashing through his blood vessels, but he could see nothing but red. Snapping the neck of the bottle into millions of fragments, Arthur no longer cared the good chug of whiskey he wanted to have away from all the lying cunts. Tonight was full of people who had dollar signs in their eyes while they grasped onto leashes around those who needed to pay back stacks of cash. More than fucking enough. If Arthur heard any of their voice, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

So, when Arthur decided to pull away from the crowd to enjoy even the crappiest stench of whatever the fuck liquified the soil that smeared along the bricks, he did not expect to see a Peaky boy’s tongue down his little’s sister throat. Even though the eldest Shelby wasn’t in many conversations (there was no need to ponder that all they wanted was Thomas’s cock), he barely noticed the disappearance of the second youngest Shelby, most likely because he was too focused on maintaining the position of his curled fists which were stuffed deep in his coat’s pocket. Despite him yanking out his red, thrumming hand multiple of times, a glare from Thomas was enough to remind him of the lingering eyes.

Feet descending down the wall, Y/N’s eyes didn’t blink once as she stared at the abrupt appearance of her eldest brother. Well, fuck. Fuck the plan. Fuck avoiding. Because the future she didn’t want ever was now, “Arthur.”

Without a word uttered between the two, a distance increased with every shove down their throats. Arthur Shelby was here. Arthur Shelby saw the son of the man he trusted pinned his little sister to the wall. Eyes were lassoed, ropes were thrown around, yanking stammering thoughts. Arthur’s eyes that were popped out of his eye socket did not quiver from Isaiah’s figure. The smear of red against the boy’s lips and his dishevelled waistcoat was enough for Arthur to go mental. Isaiah wasn’t sure how he felt. There was a jolt of inhumane voltage zapping through his heart before a snip of a scissor prevented it to ever be alive again.

The man whose face oozed of litres of blood was a victim of whatever lurked under Arthur Shelby’s skin. If Isaiah wasn’t there to notice his motionless body, he couldn’t give a fuck, but he was. He saw men struggle to hold Arthur’s thrashing body back. The devil they called it. The plunging noise descending his throat and into the green lake in his gut trickled through Isaiah’s ears. He was dead meat, “Arthur, it’s not what it looks like- I can explain.”

“Fucking not what it looks like?” Although the eldest Shelby stood at the other end of the hallway, his booming voice was as if he was right in front of them. Wavering the cracked neck of the whiskey glass, furious spit gushed out of his lips. Hair curtained to flare up, the man was beaming with steam. “Fucking explain why you looked like you were about to fuck Isaiah!”

Speckled soil shivered from its land to rest upon the ground. The ground the building sat upon shook, shaking the glass panes to send raining shards of glass across the marble floor. Thomas stepped down the stairs. Seconds ago, the man was under the ceiling of solid gold, now, he was under dripping tainted water that pecked his shoulders. His face was unreadable although a twitch of his jaw gave away the underlying anger, “One fucking day, Arthur, you couldn’t give me one fucking day of silence?”

Trailing behind him was John and Finn who were laughing at an obnoxious joke uttered by the youngest himself, something about his boxers ending up on the street. It fell into silence. Despite the warning Thomas had incessantly, stubbornly pressed on his accompanies of the night, a part of him had already predicted this was to happen. There was hope. There was hope that the night might’ve flown pass smoothly without a bump over the road. And then there was reality. Awry reality never resembled the plans in Thomas’s head. However, there was a second he had missed in his life. A second was forgotten, jumped over to the next beat of his heart. He didn’t need many words from the blood gushing out of Arthur’s curled fist and the mussed hair of the pair.

Well, there goes the plan. Out the fucking window it was. With a cigarette sighing on his lips, he gestured, “Go ahead. Talk.”

Maybe Y/N should’ve listened to Ada.

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Audio

Playlist Feels

Member: hehet yeosang!

Genre: Smut, fluff, big fat uwus just cause i’m in the mood and yes i may or may not be on my period :”)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I’m just going to put it out there:

I might be a hard seonghwa stan, but literally all the other members of ateez have a special place in my heart.

san appeals alot to my hardstan and performance-obsessed side

mingi appeals alot to my ‘thing’ (kink?) for duality because him in wonderland vs in every other vlive is so mindblowing.

i have a soft spot for yunho because i personally think he’s the most down-to-earth, handsome member (no i am not saying the other members are not handsome), and not to mention he’s a whole teddy bear.

i have a soft spot for hongjoong because of his dedication and what he gave up for this dream

my soft spot for yeosang comes in the form of how pretty and visually satisfying he is, and his savageness that’s hidden behind him being an introvert. i’m an introverted extrovert (most people think i’m an introvert but i’m really not). and let’s not get started on his voice. i really, really love his voice and i really want him to get more lines, even if it means him getting an OST solo or something. it’s possible that KQ doesn’t think his voice fits ateez’s sound or they’re just waiting out for a suitable track to highlight his voice.

i have SUCH a soft spot for jongho because i also think his visuals are EXTREMELY underrated. i’ve said it before that i think he and yunho are the most down-to-earth looking members compared to seonghwa and yeosang. his voice is CRAZY and the fact that he’s the same age as i am makes it even more painful to swallow ;_;

the first time i saw wooyoung, i saw jimin. i was a HARDstan for bts in the years 2014 into 2017, probably the period of their breakthrough. i felt like i knew jimin by heart, so seeing wooyoung really made me feel like i was truly looking at someone who idolised jimin, someone who really took jimin as a role model, and it was wooyoung. the most heartaching thing about wooyoung was that he chose friendship over the possibility of debuting with txt, and as someone who cherishes friendship and loyalty alot, wooyoung will forever have my heart because of his decision.

conclusion: ateez is probably the first group that i’m constantly watching out for other members because they all each have their virtues and their strengths, and even if they had weaknesses (which i don’t fucking see anywhere lol), the other members just hide them/make them seem like they don’t have any, and i think that kind of dynamics in a group is extremely hard to come by nowadays.

i’m a sucker for performance groups, so ateez really takes the cake for me when it comes to performance. bts, nct and the boyz are the only other 3 groups i chose to stan/find out more because of their performance.

“yeosang~” you cooed, leaning over into your boyfriend’s neck. he was staring at his computer screen, scratching his head while looking through the pdf file with all his notes.

“mm?” he hums as you bury your nose into the collar of his hoodie, inhaling his gorgeous scent. if you could smell the word ‘comfort’, then that was what yeosang smelled like.

“i don’t want to study anymore, i lost the motivation...” you trail off, resting your chin on his shoulder and pulling your legs over so they were draped over his right thigh. you were sitting next to him at the desk in the room of your dorm, and the two of you have been going at it for about three hours now. mid-terms were around the corner, and both of you had extremely high drives. it wasn’t difficult to catch the both of you studying at the library or in one of your rooms.

“wae~?” he sung, finally looking away from the laptop screen and looking at you with those pretty, pretty eyes of his.

“i’m not feeling it,” you pout, reaching up to his ear and tracing the edge of his skin.

“not feeling it?” he chuckles, leaning back into his seat and pats your thighs, dragging his fingerpads across the faint stretch marks nearer to your hips. “waeyo? usually you’re the one who’s making me study for like, 6 hours in a row.”

“i don’t know... i’m just not feeling it,” you pout even more, motivating him to smile warmly. yeosang strains his neck forward so he meets your lips with his, and you weren’t sure if it was the stress that was getting to the both of you, but soon, you found yourself straddled on his thighs, the kisses becoming longer and heavier.

it doesn’t help that yeosang was in joggers, and the material wasn’t thick enough to hide his growing manhood.

“is this what you’re feeling?” he pulls away and laughs, looking up at you while you brush your hair to the side.

“molla... i just don’t want to stare at words and numbers anymore,” you whined, craning your neck downwards and attaching your lips onto his neck. you heard yeosang’s smooth, honey voice rumble in the back of his throat upon the contact. you smile to yourself, knowing exactly where his sweet spot was.

“are you sure you want to do this now? you’re going to be tired afterwards, you know,” yeosang grins widely, his eyes slowly but surely turning more lustful by the second.

“i don’t have the motivation to do anything else anyway, i’ll just sleep afterwards.”

yeosang processes your words, and instinctively brings your face back up to his. the kisses were harsher, and though you were so used to kissing him, yeosang being needy was never a sight for sore eyes. yeosang carried himself like a prince when he was in public, so knowing that you were the only one who had the liberty and privilege of seeing him like this made you want him more in ways you should already be used to.

yeosang reaches behind you and pushes the screen down to the body of his laptop without detaching his lips. he shifts himself away from the table and lifts you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist and walks the both of you to his bed.

“i know you’re already exhausted from studying so i’ll make this a quick one and you can sleep, okay?” yeosang mutters under his breath, in between kisses on your collarbone, his fingers already pulling up his shirt that you were wearing.

“no... come on, i need the stress relief,” you groaned, feeling the cool air hit your stomach and chest as he riles up the shirt to your neck.

you feel yeosang’s laughter against the skin of your cleavage, and it forms a smile on your lips.

“are you sure?” yeosang has his lips planted to the soft skin of your breast, gently sucking on it, making you mewl and shut your eyes at the sensation.

“this is the second time you’re asking me if i’m su--” your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers travel up under your shorts, finding your underwear and slipping a finger underneath the cloth.

“mwoya...” he looks up at you and smirks. “so needy today?”

you cover your eyes with your arms, embarrassed. it wasn’t like this was your first time, but yeosang knew you always felt embarrassed and shy about your sex life. both of you weren’t each other’s firsts, but it was definitely a whole new world. he was always gentle and careful with you, always making sure you were up for it even before getting into anything.

“arrasseo~” he sings into your ear and kisses you on the lips, slipping one finger into you. you inhale sharply at the chill that was shot up your spine, the parting of your lips allowing yeosang to slide his tongue into your mouth and explore it like he didn’t already know how it felt.

you were so caught up in yeosang’s finger in you that you didn’t notice he already had his joggers and boxers off. you felt the mattress around your legs sink, and yeosang was directly above you now, his free arm supporting himself right next to your neck.

“a quick one, alright? i’m not in the mood to break you because i know you’ll be too tired even after a night’s sleep,” yeosang’s voice was low and lustful, but it was comforting to know that your comfort and welfare was still his number one priority.

yeosang pulls off your shorts and underwear at one go, gently laying it on the mattress behind him. he pulls your legs over his shoulders and leans forward. you didn’t know how wet and needy you were until he pushes in completely, a strange, pleasurable sensation filling your lungs as you arch your back at the feeling of him inside you.

“you alright?” yeosang brushes his thumb across your lips, kissing your ankles and holding his own urges back.

“yeah, i’m okay,” you whisper, looking at him with eyes that sent him over the edge.

yeosang slowly pulls out, only to slam back into you. he repeats this how many times, you couldn’t count. but what stole your attention away from the pleasure was the odd feeling in your abdomen where his manhood was hitting inside you.

“yeo--” you moaned into the air, listening to his grunts while he thrusts in and out of you. but before you could say anything else, yeosang abruptly stops and pulls out.

“you’re bleeding!”

every pinch of neediness disappears into thin air at the words that escaped yeosang’s lips. you look down, and you couldn’t believe your damn eyes. yeosang’s length was covered in blood, your blood.

“you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

yeosang gets off the bed and reaches for the tissue box, cleaning up the disgusting, brownish-red blood that was dripping from you.

“are you okay? did it hurt?” yeosang doesn’t care that his length was covered in your blood, only getting off the mattress and moving to where your head was. you had your hands pressed tightly against your eyes as you felt your ears burn up in embarrassment.

“hey,” yeosang gently pries away your hands and kisses your forehead, only to see a glistening layer of tears over your eyes. “oh, no, why are you crying? it’s alright, jagi. it happens, okay?”

you pout and sigh heavily, craning your neck to look down, only to realise that the blood had stained his bed sheet. the sight horrifies you, and you jump to your feet, awkwardly crossing your legs only to see the plate-sized stain on his material.

“no, no, it’s fine. we’ll shower together, and i’ll get the sheets changed, don’t worry about it okay? do you have any of your pads with you?” yeosang finally cleans himself, quickly pulling his boxers back on and giving you a tight hug.

“no, i... it’s early. it’s not supposed to come for another few days...” you watch as yeosang fumbles through his own wardrobe, looking for a set of clean clothes for you. your dorm was quite a walk away, and you knew yeosang wasn’t going to let you leave his room until this was settled.

“okay,” he nods, laying down the clean set of clothes on the chair where both of you were before. he looks at you and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, burying his nose into the crown of your head, knowing that you must feel terrible for ruining this. “we’ll shower together and you can stay in it while i head down stairs to the store and get you your pads, okay?”

he pulls away and looks at you with assuring eyes. he doesn’t bother to see your reaction, knowing that you were only going to feel shitty about yourself and protest. he pulls you into the shower cubicle with towels in hand, and helps take off your clothes, almost like a mother undressing her child to bathe.

yeosang helps wash you exactly like a mother bathing her child, and that act alone was enough to call every single man out there who couldn’t keep his needs to himself upon the sight of a naked woman a worthless man.

upset wasn’t a strong enough word to explain what you were feeling. of all times it had to happen, it had to happen when yeosang was pleasing you, adhering to your needs, even when he double checked if you were okay.

not only that, you stained his bed sheet, painted his manhood with your blood and--

“hey,” his voice interrupts you beating yourself up in your head. “stop thinking about it, okay?” yeosang washes himself briskly, not even bothering to use soap though he used it on you.

“i’m sorry...”

“no.” yeosang shakes his head, grabbing a towel and drying himself while leaving the shower on. “you stay here and get washed up until you’re satisfied. take as much time as you want, i’ll be heading down and getting your pads-- will the ones that you have in your room be okay?”

he remembers the ones i have in my room?

“the blue packs with the wings right? the 35 cm ones?” yeosang wraps the towel around his hips and opens the shower door. you slowly nod, surprised that he remembers.

“okay. take your time, arrasseo? do not worry about it, else i’ll hug you to sleep until you can’t breathe tonight,” yeosang shows you his signature prince smile, before pulling the shower door shut behind him. you hear his footsteps shift around the room, assuming that he changed the bed sheet, and soon the door of his room was opened and then shut.

you resumed washing yourself, your hair, and all the parts of your body that yeosang has probably kissed before and assured you that he loved them no matter what. struggling with low self-esteem wasn’t easy, and the job was made even harder when your boyfriend looked like a prince himself.

you were so deep in thought and for so long, that you don’t hear the sound of the door opening until yeosang calls out. “are you alright in there? i got you like... three types of pads ‘cause i’ve got no clue which ones you need for sleep and for tomorrow’s class. i got you some heatpads in case you have any cramps and a cup of hot chocolate too!”

you swore you heard your heart shatter at his words. where else were you going to find another Kang Yeosang?

you hear some movement, and yeosang gets the shower door open just enough to hand you his clean clothes (that’ll probably be too big on you), with a pad the same size as the one you have back in your room.

yeosang was patiently packing the table and folding the clothes from before when you come out of the shower. you were drying your hair and looking at his busy back with a pout on your lips when he turns around to look at you.

“does it hurt?” he asks with concern written all over his face. he rubs both your arms gently, looking at how large his shirt was on you and looking under it to check that the bottoms he provided you were fitting.

you shake your head, though you could feel a pinch of ache in your abdomen.

“aw, uri aegi,” yeosang coos, pulling you into his chest. the only thing you could smell was him, because you were both wearing clothes that belonged to him, and frankly, you couldn’t be any more comforted.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t think--”

“hey, you said it was early. you wouldn’t have known anyway. and look,” he turns around to gesture at the bed. “it’s fine.”

you look down at your feet, wriggling your toes and wondering what you did to deserve him.

“here,” he hands you the cup of hot chocolate. “finish it then we’ll wash up and we’ll knock out for the night, arrasseo?” yeosang leans forward and pecks you on the forehead.

yeosang talks to you about some interesting things he learnt about drones in class that day while you finish your drink. he even prepared an extra towel to be placed under your rear while you sleep, knowing that you were used to an extra layer of protection on your own bed to prevent staining. yeosang plays your favourite music on his phone while he plays with your hair and asks about your day, occasionally teasing you by asking for a sip of hot chocolate every now and then.

the lights were out and the heatpad was under your shorts against your abdomen, with yeosang’s arm draped over the curve of your waist, your arms curled up against both your chests. you hear him hum while he fiddles with the small strands of hair on the crown of your head.

“yeosang?”

“mm?”

“i’m sorry for ruining our quick ses--”

“no.”

you felt his hand carelessly find your chin in the dark and it pulls a smile up your lips. he pulls on your chin as he leans forward and kisses you gently.

a long, heartwarming kiss.

“don’t apologise for something that you can’t control. you always call me your prince, so that makes you my princess, and my princess doesn’t need to apologise for anything.” yeosang pecks you on the forehead, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

“go to sleep, princess. see you tomorrow morning.”

A/N: srfhlshfiufhieurhtoierht9erhnfergfusahdiofasf i may or may not have cried writing this yeosang uwu

#timetohajima #yeosang smut #ateez smut #yeosang imagine #yeosang scenario #yeosang fanfic #ateez imagine #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #i died #help #boyfriend yeosang #uwu #busted an uwu #timetohajima playlist feels

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superspookywombat · 5 years ago

Text

falling {j.h} chapter four

Warnings: oops i forgot there was a sexual innuendo

Taglist: sleepy-whoregeekysimmerthingsmauvette268treestarrrrrrrrkaleigh404krazykatkay456meganlikesfandomsdarknacademiahi-my-name-is-rileyvdtwsupernaturalselmeuuhraindancer2004wondersandtempestsroyale-trash-slytherinim-hella-brightbootylimpicslivfgit-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes

You grip the beige food tray in your hands so tight that your knuckles pale. Your eyes frantically search the large cafeteria for any sign of Bella- or Edward. The clock on the wall tells you that you arrived a few minutes early, mostly because you had nothing to put in your locker. At your old school, no one used their lockers. You just managed to fit everything in your backpack that clung tightly to your burdend shoulders. You set your tray down at an empty table, the apple loose on the plastic threatening to fall over the raised sides. Before you have the chance to catch it, it jumps over the barrier and falls over the edge of the table. A flash of white comes from behind you and you see someone catch the runaway in the corner of your eye.

“I believe this is yours?” A harmonical, masculine voice asks. You turn your head and you’re met with Bella’s boyfriend, Edward. Behind him stands three other people, two you recognize, the blond from English, and your sister. A small, pixie-like girl stands in between them, her hair dark and her eyes large. You reach out for the apple, your gaze fixed to the ground and your mouth agape.

“I’m Alice, and this is Jasper.” The girl speaks out. You can’t find yourself thinking more about her though, because all of a sudden your senses are invaded by Jasper. Jasper. You speak the name silently, only a small noise coming from your lips as you pronounce the ‘sp’. You glance back up and see Alice holding Jasper’s hand, but his body is rigid as his eyebrows furrow and his intense caramel eyes burn holes through your warm cheeks. There’s something familiar about him. You clear your throat and smile, shaking off the thoughts that plague your mind.

“Nice to meet you, Alice. And I think you’re in my English class, Jasper.” Your throat becomes dry as you say his name aloud.

“Yes, Ms. Garcia is a delightful teacher.” He answers in a southern drawl. You’re taken aback for a second, but then you understand his choice of shoes- or boots, actually. You smile, but don’t say anything in response. You nod to the table you’re sat at, and they take it as an invitation to sit down alongside you. Edward holds Bella close to him, almost in a protective nature. You look down at the smooth apple in your hand, and you bring it to your lips. The sharp edge of your teeth rips through the skin as if it were paper, and the juice drips down your chin. You pull the apple away from your mouth, satisfied in the chunk you took out of it, the imprints of your teeth left in the fruit like a crispy fossil. You place it back on your tray and wipe the juices from around your mouth with the back of your hand. Your eyes wander over the group that sit by you. Alice reminds you of a fairy, her hair dark, twirly, and quirky. She smiles at you, her teeth whiter than white, and her lips a blushed pink. Under the table, it seems that Alice and Jasper’s legs are touching. Are they a thing? You shake the thought from your head. They’re siblings. That’d be gross. Bella sits next to Edward, of course. He has an arm wrapped protectively around her. You turn back to Alice.

“Your dad’s a pretty cool guy. Super sweet.” You say, twirling your thumbs beneath the table. Alice glances at Edward.

“He’s a great man. We couldn’t have been luckier.” Edward cuts in. You give a small smile. Turning your attention back to the plate in front of you, you push some cold pasta around with your fork. Bleh. Alice, Edward, and Bella engage in a conversation as Edward sips slowly out of a water bottle- something about hiking- as you steal quick glances up at Jasper. Your eyes swiftly scan his pale frame, a curtain of blond locks falling over his eyes. He looks up and you briefly make eye contact. You stare at each other for a second before you look away.

“So... Jasper,” You say, burning holes into your apple sitting on the table with your eyes. “Cowboy boots, southern accent, good posture... Did Doctor Cullen take you from the cowboy life?”

“Something like that.” He says with a sly smile. You can’t stop the thought that pops into your mind. Save a horse, ride a cowboy. A choking noise comes from your right, and your peripheral vision catches Edward spewing out a spray of water, hitting both you and Bella.

“Oh- Edward!” Bella whines. Frozen droplets run down your cheek, and you reach a hand up to wipe them off. This water is so cold.. The water bottles they hand out here are always grossly warm. You ignore the churning feeling in your stomach, and watch as Alice laughs at the incident. The bell rings from somewhere behind you, and everyone says their goodbyes as you part ways.

Bella walks with you to gym class, and you try to ignore the thick, tense air between you. Entering the locker rooms, you place your backpack in front of a vacant locker and grab your gym clothes. You take off your shirt, then you peel off your pants. After slipping on some shorts, you shove your shoes back on and pick up the standard issued gym shirt. You glance around the room full of half-naked women, your sister among them. You pull the shirt over your head and exit the room, ready to start the class.

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

Weeks flew by as you settled into your new routine. Soon after the first day, Edward started picking up Bella before school. You had the choice to either ride with them, or drive Bella’s truck. You chose the latter.

The truck didn’t run too smoothly, but it worked fine as long as you stayed mostly in Forks. You pull into the school parking lot and spot Bella and Edward over by a tall figure standing by a motorcycle. You park and walk over to them.

“Is this your bike?” You ask the guy. He looks familiar, his tan skin and dark hair striking some resemblance. He finally acknowledges you, his eyes rake down your body, then back to your face.

“Does she-” He starts to say.

“No.” Bella cuts him off. She turns to you, “Y/n, this is Jacob, Charlie’s friend Billy’s son. Jacob.. y/n, my sister.”

He sticks out his hand, and you take it. His hand is hot- like he has a fever. It’s also twice the size of yours. “Oh! Y/n.. you got hot.”

“Jacob!” Bella warns, he steps back and throws his hands up in a mock surrender. You chuckle awkwardly, your ears burning from the male attention.

“Sorry, sorry.” He responds. “But back to the more pressing matters at hand..” He stares pointedly at you.

“I was just leaving anyway. Nice to see you, Jacob.” You give him a thin smile and walk to class.

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

Senior year goes by fast, and you are quick to make friends with Alice and Edward. Jasper doesn’t like to be around you. Well, okay. He never said that, at least verbally. But it always seemed he’d hold his breath around you, or just get a pained look on his face. Graduation was about a month away, and you’d already applied to multiple schools. The plan was University of Washington, to be close to Charlie.

You and Bella sat on your bedroom floor, talking about school. “So you’re good on UW, then?”

“Yeah, I think that’s my number one choice. What about you? Mom’s pushing for Florida.” You answer. Things were much better between the two of you, but you still felt that she was holding back on you in some areas.

“I don’t want to live in Florida. Too sunny.” She sighs. You look at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Who are you and what have you done with Bella?” You ask. She loves the sun! She’s basically a meerkat. Popped out her head anytime the sun shone.

“Change of heart, I guess.” She shrugs. “Hey.. how do you feel about marriage? Like, is it totally ruined for you because of what happened with Renee and Charlie?”

“What happened with mom and dad happens sometimes. But if I let bad experiences ruin things for me all the time, then there’d be no point in anything anymore.”

She bites her lip. “What about.. Marriage right out of high school..?” She looks up at you after saying it, eager to catch your expression.

“What are you implying, Bella? If this is about you and Edward, then I think you shouldn’t worry. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, like you’re his whole world. You’re lucky to have him and he’s even luckier to have you. Not to mention his body? God, Bells, you gotta lock that down.” You answer. You find it easier to give advice if you sandwich it with a teasing tone. Bella chuckles and tosses a pillow at you. You swat it back at her and you both fall over in a fit of giggles. “But seriously, if you truly love him, if you know deep down in your bones that he’s your forever, then you should do it.”

“Yeah.. yeah.” She says. “Look, I, uh, gotta go meet Jake. I’ll see you later.” She gets up and pulls on some shoes.

“Okay, yeah. Have fun.” You watch her walk out the door.

#jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasperhale #twilight #twilight x reader #charlie swan #charlieswan #chapter 4 #bellaswan #Bella Swan #fanfic #fanfiction

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years ago

Text

Burning Secrets Obi Wan Kenobi x Padawan Reader Pt 1

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi x Padawan reader

Summary: reader gets injured on a mission and tries to hide it from her master.

Warnings: mild swearing, mention of injury, violence

A.n Hello my lovelies! I absolutely adore Obi Wan and couldn't help but write something about him after rewatching clone wars! Enjoy😊 part 2

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

You knew the danger that came with every republic mission. Not everyone always survived. And often times you made it out with more than a scratch. But that came along with the job.

Being a padawan meant that you were always put in dangerous situations. Along with your master Obi wan Kenobi. Most of the time things went relatively well. Your master would often bail you out of trouble when things got too sticky.

However this particular mission went a little different..

You were on the planet Saigon, defending against a large group of pirates who attempted to take the planet for themselves. Normally pirates were no match for the jedi forces however they had something they didnt before...the separatist army backing them as well as a new leader, Zoc tane.

Obi wan and you had split up, you took a decent sized squadron and managed to bomb their main camps while Obi Wan worked on freeing the enslaved citizens.

"Y/n, status report" the collected voice of your master broke through the chaos around you. You sliced your lightsaber through one of the battle droids as you brought your wrist up to your mouth.

"We bombed the camps, just finishing off these-" another droid ran up but you ducked under and swiped from behind, "-droids.."

"Very good, finish up quickly and meet me back at the slave camps, we could use the extra help"

"Alright be there as soon as I can" you shouted orders to the men and began fighting off the remaining droids.

"Alright men let's hurry to help the others!" You all jumped atop your speeders and made for the slave camps.

"Sir over there!" Pinks shouted suddenly, you followed the direction of the clones finger until you spotted the familiar face from the briefing this morning.

"Tane.."you growled. quickly you shouted for 2 of the men to follow you and the rest to go aid master kenobi.

"Sir are you sure thats a go-"

"If we let him leave this planet we may never get a chance like this again!" The cadet nodded and hurriedly followed orders.

You were quickly gaining on Tane, he shot some blasts with an arm bent back but you all dodged easily.

After a while of high speed chasing your comlink beeped.

"Y/n! Your men just told me you went after Tane! Don't be foolish, he is much stronger than you, get back here immedi-" with a click you shut off the com and focused on the battle. You could tell him it got messed up in the battle. You were not letting a chance like this slip away. And you were definitely planning to prove yourself by taking Tane down yourself. Just then the criminal threw a little ball backwards.

"BOMB!" you managed to veer right and dodge however pinks wasn't as lucky.

"Speedy, get him to a medical droid!" You shouted at the other clone, not slowing down your pursuit. Before speedy could even try to stop you, you were gone.

Tane eventually landed in front of a small space ship.

You hurriedly jumped off and force threw a giant rock in front of him, successfully blocking his space craft door.

He smirked and turned around. His tentacles moving eerily around him. He was built like master fisto, strong and swift.

"Well done little one, but what will you do now? Surely you aren't thinking of fighting me alone are you?"

You bit your lip, you had planned on at least having the boys with you but that quickly flew out the window. The logical part of you said that you shouldve turned back but the young fighter in you pushed you forward. Eager to prove yourself. You confidently lifted your chin and ignited your saber, "That's exactly what I plan to do"

He smiled even wider, "Well then trust me when I say it wont be much of a fight.." he drew his own weapons, double swords that glowed black. Ugh great, off brand sabers. How many kinds of weapons did he have anyway?!

"We'll see about that!" You sneered and charged forward.

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

"Why must I always get stuck with the most stubborn padawans!" Kenobi shook his head. You were skilled yes, more than anakin had been at that age but you still had much to learn. And Tane was not an enemy to be taken lightly. He sighed with frustration and worry.

"Alright men, let's deal with this as quickly as possible!" He prayed that you would hold your own until he got there. Perhaps you had listened and were already on the way back? Yeah right..maybe in another universe..

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

The fight had proven to be more difficult than you previously imagined. You could practically hear obi wan tsking.

"I'm almost impressed padawan, your lasting much longer than any of my other opponents, but no matter, soon you'll be dead like the rest of them"

You tensed at his words, he was still relatively unharmed, you managed to place a searing scratch on his arm but that did little to weaken him. Ok new plan..if I can't beat him, I can at least keep him from escaping.

Quickly you force jumped over his head which at first confused him but he quickly realized what you were up to. He glared,

"Stupid little pest!" He jumped after you but you were quick to dodge and made sure to jab your saber wherever possible. When he got a little too close you managed to force push him off which gave you just enough time to jam your saber through the main engine.

You smirked knowing he wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

"Aghh" a burning sensation across your stomach brought your attention back to Tane.

You clutched your stomach and took a few steps back trying to regain your composure.

You tried force pushing him back but he was quicker and kicked you back sending another wave of pain through you.

Shit shit shit, you desperately tried to push yourself up as he walked menacingly towards you. His weapons crackling dangerously at his sides. You tried force calling your fallen saber but it was no use. You were too exausted.

"I must say I'm disappointed" he mocked walking closer.

You managed the best smirk you could through the pain.

"Disappointed? I did destroy your only exit off this planet did I not?"

His smile dropped into a low growl, "Yes.." he lifted the saber high above his head, "and you'll pay for it!"

You tried using the force but found yourself too weak. So this is how it ends...how embarrassing....

Shutting your eyes you resigned yourself to your fate.

Forgive me master

...................

No need for apologies just yet little one

Huh?

The smooth sound of your masters voice floated in your mind.

You snapped your eyes wide open. "Master!" You shouted in surprise.

"Sorry I'm late" he said in his usual playful tone.

"Aghhhh" Zane let out a grunt as Obi Wan pushed him backwards and began dueling. Zane was powerful you had to admit, however he was no match for your master and his years of experience and soon started to show signs of fatigue.

"You alright commander?" Rex came up and offered you a hand. Smiling you accepted and tried to hide the inevitable wince of pain.

You knew he would go straight to kenobi if you were injured in any way and you were determined to hide it as long as possible. It was highly likely that Obi wan would punish you for running into danger alone like that, an injury on top of that would make everything worse. He would probably bar you from missions for a long long long time. And the worst part was how disappointed he would be..

Shifting your robes closed you smiled reassuringly, "I'm fine, I'm assuming things went well on your end?"

He nodded, a look of pride crossing his face,"More than well I'd say, cleaned up those droids in record time" you laughed lightly then drew your attention to a now unconscious Tane.

Stepping close you watched as you master disabled his lightsaber, clipping it back on his belt. Sensing your presence he turned around and offered you a small smile. He scanned your form quickly, satisfied when he didn't notice anything out of place.

"Y/n, looks like I got here just in time" he crossed his arms smirking.

"Oh please, I had the situation completely under control"

He scoffed, "Under control? If that's what you call under control, I'd hate to see your definition of a bad situation"

"Oh hush" you rolled your eyes, " Everything worked out didn't it?"

He sighed shaking his head slightly,"Yes we may have won this time, but you were too reckless, what if I hadn't gotten here in time?" He said, his face a turning serious.

You avoid his gaze, you hated that scolding look he gave you.

"I know...I'm sorry.." you mumbled. With another shake he finally placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Well in any case, you did manage too thwart Tanes escape, for that I say well done" you immediately met his eyes with a beaming smile. He smirked as he couldn't help but feeling slightly proud of his student.

Finally some recognition!

"We can discuss your blantent disregard of my orders later.." he added seriously.

Ughhh whyyyyy

You hung your head down again as he led everyone back to the ship's.

The more you walked the more your injury throbbed. You almost cried in relief when the ships finally came into view. The first chance you got you snuck off into private quarters and assessed the damage.

A nasty dark and ugly wound decorated your stomach. It had blistered and was turning very unflattering shades. You gingerly applied some numbing cream. It was the only useful thing you found in the small med kit. All private quarters had a simple one, small bandages and low dose pain relievers, anything for something more serious was packed near the medical droid. For sure if you ventured there some clone would see you. Many were being treated themselves.

You sighed and debated on wrapping the wound. Wait are you supposed to wrap burns or let them breathe?? Crap you shouldve paid more attention during basic first aid.

You decided to let the wound breathe by changing into one of your training long sleeve crop tops. You swung on your cloak and made sure it covered everything.

Perfect, non restricting and Obi Wan will have no clue. Oh I better remember to be mindful of my thoughts, never know when he could be listening.

Satisfied you walked back out and headed towards the food units...

...........................................................................

The flight home wasn't as dreadful as you previously thought. Your master told you to get some rest which you gladly obeyed. Although it did little to soothe your aches. The cream worked in short bursts, soon you had used up all the supply. If only you could get some of the strong stuff from the med bay...you pondered for a moment but decided against it. Nope you wouldnt risk it. Obi wan had a talent for popping up out of nowhere. Especially so when you were up to something. Sighing you layed back down in the cot and closed your eyes.

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

"Y/n"? Just how long do you plan to sleep?" Your eyes shot open at the sudden voice echoing around you. You squinted and sighed annoyingly when you realized it was just Obi wan.

"Ugh master, didn't you say I should go rest?" You flopped a pillow over your head and flipped sides.

Stupid move, your stomach burned at the sudden twist. You but your lip determined to conceal the pain.

"Rest yes? Hibernate no?" He chuckled softly and force shoved the pillow off of you. You glared up at him through your disheveled hair.

"In case you're unaware, we landed quite some time ago, you've been sleeping quite a long time, I actually came because I was worried you had passed out or something" he joked.

"!!" Even though he was teasing you felt a tinge of worry. You quickly sat up, and did your best to act like your stomach was not being roasted over an open fire at the moment. "I um must've been more tired than I realized" you lamely joked back. You could not believe you actually slept through most the entire trip.

He shook his head amused, "Well hurry up, the council is keen to hear how the mission went"

Oh good lord, anything but that. You felt fear rise in you. Standing for what may be hours in front of the council did not seem like the best treatment for you right now. What if you accidentally let your pain slip through the force and one of them senses it??

A million scenarios ran through your mind as the two of you walked towards the temple meeting room.

"Y/n?" Obi wan side eyed you slightly curious."Everything alright?" You didnt realize you had been so quiet.

You quickly plastered a smile on your face "Yup everythings fine, just dreading the long meeting ahead, I wonder if anyones actually died of boredom before" you joked lightly.

He rolled his eyes and soon the both of you were standing before all members of the jedi council. Heavens help me..

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

You had been right, the meeting had been long and boring and a million times worse because of the throbbing burning sensation, however you had held strong and no one seemed to notice anything was wrong.

You let out a sigh of relief when you finally exited. Knowing now you had a decent chance of sneaking some higher grade medical treatments without being spotted.

Just as you were about to make your escape your master called out from behind you.

Heavens when was I going to catch a break?!

Forcing a smile you turned slightly, "yes master?"

"I have some new techniques I want to teach you later, get something to eat and rest for awhile, then meet me in our usual training rooms." You nodded and turned back around heading to your room.

Great now you had to learn new moves while simultaneously hiding your worsening wound. Could this day get any better...

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

You let out a sigh as you stood before the training doors. You had treated the wound and taken some pain pills. You felt much better however it was still very painful to the touch. You would try to avoid any hits but you knew that it was going to be a challenge.

You pressed the button opneing the sealed doors. Your master sat in the middle meditating. He smiled when he noticed your presence, "Ah Y/n, right on time" he stood up and grabbed two training sabers, tossing one to you, "Shall we?" He smirked getting into a fighting stance.

"Ready when you are.." you mirrored his actions swallowing the large lump of nerves.

You were only a half and hour in and you felt as though you had just fought a whole droid army using a stick.

You were sweating profusely and your mind had trouble focusing in order to predict your masters movements. Obi wan stepped back at some point holding his hand up as a signal to stop.

He eyed you with a look you were too exausted to decipher, "Y/n? Is something wrong? I figured with the ship and earlier you had had enough rest, but perhaps I'm missing something?" His voice was now laced with concern and confusion.

Shaking your head you mustered up your most confident tone, "I'm perfectly alright master, just getting used to these new techniques is all" you assured him.

Now that he was already suspicious, you had to be extra cautious. Your master was no idiot. If you slipped up, he would notice.

He swiped at his beard in thought, after a moment he relaxed, "Alright I'll take your word for it, now then shall we continue?" He lunged forward suddenly and you quickly blocked him. He swung again and again and you managed to block those as well.

He moved quickly behind you and you spun using the technique he taught you to block, well you tried at least.... Instead of meeting his weapon with your you either misjudged the distance or he was too quick because soon you found yourself on your back in a world of pain.

"You've gotten rusty my padawan" Obi Wan teased playfully above you. It was your lack of retort that made him eye you closely.

Suddenly all playfulness was gone as he took in your pained face and suddenly felt your burning pain through the force.

He was beside you on the floor in an instant, "y/n!? Are you alright?!" You had your eyes scrunched tight, your only thoughts on how you felt as if a saber stabbed through you. You couldn't even register him speaking.

Obi wan panicked slightly, had he truly hit you that hard? At first he thought you were faking in order to get the upper hand but the force didn't lie, you were in immense pain.

When you couldn't even answer his panic grew more. Carfelully he moved your clutching hand away and gently pulled apart your robe opening the middle.

You felt a rush of cool air and it soothed your pain slightly. You were still so out of hit however you felt a new...feeling in the force...

Was that fear?

Obi wans eyes widened in shock and horror as he took in the large discolored wound that plagued you. What?! How?!When?!? He found himself completely at a loss for words.

He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, "Y/n! Wake up! Tell me what's happened?!" He slapped lightly but you were barely there.

Sucking in a nervous breath he wasted no time in scooping you up into his arms. He felt a deep pang of worry when you let out a noise of distress at the movement.

In all his years Obi wan had never made it anywhere as fast as he did with you in his arms to the med bay.

His brows furrowed with worry and helplessness the entire time...

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

And that's part 1, stay tuned for part 2! Thanks for reading! Also please comment and tell me what you thought😚

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puffmamaa · 6 years ago

Text

Elbow Deep: Part 1

So this is my first time ever writing fanfiction!! I’m a little bit nervous because in this fandom, whew chillay.....y’all are some muthafuckin’ WRITERS, hunny. “Talent all up & thru this bitch.” lmao I hope mine is decent enough for y’all tho.

But anyways, here goes...something lol.

Pairing: Erik “Killmonger” Stevens x Black, Dark-Skin, Plus Size OC. (Always💛)

Summary: Erik begrudgingly attends a benefit gala. He prepares himself for a wack ass night, only to be met with a quite, scrumptious surprise. 😉

Word Count: Somewhere around 1400, 1500.

Warnings: Cussing. Use of the N-word. Dragging white people. T’Challa on his bullshit lol. But mostly fluffy and cute.

A/N: In my mind, I want this to be a series but I’m not sure how to make it work yet. If not, than I guess a cute little one-shot? Idk, If y’all like it enough, I’ll try for a part 2 at very least. Also, I wrote this on my phone at like 3 AM so please excuse any mistakes or typos. 😝

“Dedicated to my new found love for hot wings.”

——

“Welcome ALL to Wakanda Outreach Center’s Annual Benefit Gala”

Erik snorted as he read the overzealous banner. He hated these kind of events. The only reason he even bothered to show up was because he lost a bet to his cousin. Nigga prolly cheated, he thought to himself.

Erik N’Jadaka Udaku-Stevens wasn’t one to be presurred into obligation. So when King T’Challa tried to convince him to support the Wakanda Outreach Center at their annual gala, Erik literally laughed in his face.

—

“Hell nah, nigga. I don’t go to these things for a reason. My energy is better used towards actually doing work for the community. Not rubbin’ elbows with a bunch of uppity negroes and cracka ass crackers.” Erik snapped, twisting his lips and being extra as hell.

Princess Shuri giggled. She (not-so) secretly loved when her cousin went off on one of his colonizer-dragging rants.

“N’Jadaka, we talked about calling them that.” T’Challa shot Shuri a stern look while crossing his hands behind his back. “And, it IS for the good of the community. Engagement with everyone, including other races, is necessary to keep things civil. How would it look if our own Director didn’t show up to support?”

“It’ll look like exactly what it is,” Erik said, crossing his arms across his chest. “A bourgie ass event with bourgie ass people, throwing around bourgie ass rhetoric about shit they don’t know a damn thing about. I’m good, love...”

“...enjoy!” Shuri blurted out in her Keke Palmer voice, cackling with Erik at T’Challa’s frustration.

T’Challa pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was completely over Erik and his shenanigans. Quickly, he perked his head up and rolled his shoulders back. He had the perfect Plan B. “How about we make this a wager, hmm? If I win, you attend the gala. If you win, I won’t bring it up again,” He teased with a sly smirk, knowing his competitive cousin all too well.

Erik paused.

Shuri turned on her Kimoyo beads.

“Bet. You won’t be smiling when I beat that ass, tho.”

“Oh it is on, cousin.”

“Say less, cousin. Throw them hands up.”

“On scissors.”

“No nigga. It’s on shoot. Tryna best me when you don’t even know how to play? Tuh! Have fun at that punk ass gala, boi!”

—

And there he was. In a stuffy ass suit watching his corny ass cousin fake laugh with rich white folks for donor money that they didn’t even need.

“Fuck rock, paper, scissors,” Erik murmured to himself, shifting uncomfortably against the wall.

T’Challa peaked over at Erik, watching him sneer at another group of white folks who almost ran into him.

“Excuse you. Damn,” Erik nostrils flared. “I know y’all can see my big ass standing here.” T’Challa appeared, placing his hand on Erik’s shoulder to stop him before he lit into they asses. “Relax, N’Jadaka. This is supposed to be a fun night.”

“Fun, my ass,” Erik growled lowly. “This shit is wack. Even the food is trash. I mean, what the fuck is liver pâté on cucumber toast? All the Black people you know and you couldn’t get some decent food? No chicken? Shit, some Jollof rice would suffice,” He bellowed, rubbing his grumbling stomach.

“Nakia was in charge of the food. She likes to...experiment,” T’Challa chuckled. “One time she tried to get our chef to make these Chinese style pork buns. Which was comical because his only Asian specialities are Japanese cuisine and—.”

“Yeah, I don’t care,” Erik huffed dryly. “I’mma go see if they got some real food around here. I’m starving.” Erik rolled his eyes as he stomped away, leaving T’Challa standing there with the oop face.

“He on my last nerve, I swear,” Erik spat to himself.

He shuffled past a crowd of people mingling in the gala hall, before bursting through the kitchen door. “Hey, y’all got anything else back here? Shit, at this point I’ll settle for a grilled cheese sandw...” Erik stopped mid-sentence, completely taken back by the sight before him.

A woman seated in a tall stool at one of the islands was expertly downing a plate of hot wings, not getting a speck on her crisp white, off-the-shoulder gown. Erik watched her do a little happy dance as she cleaned every bit of meat and gristle off the bone. She popped a mocha colored finger in her mouth, sucking off left over sauce as she turned towards the direction of the eyes she felt gazing into her side.

“Oh, my bad,” Erik said, realizing he was staring at her a little too hard. “I was just looking for something to eat. But I see you beat me to it.” He smirked, while rubbing his hand nervously over his neatly braided dreads.

The woman let out a short laugh. “Did you see what they’re serving out there? Might as well put up a sign that says. ‘Don’t eat if you have tastebuds.’ You would think with Black people in charge, at least the food would be good.”

Erik smiled, letting his dimples peak out for the first time all night, “I’m saying, tho.”

“Here,” She exclaimed as she pulled up a stool next to her. “They’ll make just about anything you ask for. But I suggest the wings. They’re bomb.

“Mhmm,” Erik said as he took the seat & looked her over. He motioned towards the chef. “I’ll have what she’s got.”

As the chef prepared his food, Erik surprisingly found himself in deep conversation with the eccentric woman. Mostly about random things like where to get the best wings in Oakland & why white folks don’t season their food. Still, he was memorized by how laid back and real she seemed to be. Something he didn’t expect to find at a uptight, bourgie ass gala.

“Daamnn. You cleaned those bones like the chicken’s going somewhere,” she teased.

“Says the woman elbow deep in buffalo sauce,” Erik shot back jokingly, eying her as he finished off his last wing.

“Pffhtt...whatever! You wouldn’t even have known to get the wings if I wasn’t here. You should be thanking me,” She huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Erik laughed and rolled his eyes, dramatically sucking the chicken bone in his hand while leaning in her direction.

She swatted at him playfully before checking the clock on the wall.” Oh shit, I gotta get back out there.”

She wiped her hands, before standing to smooth her gown. “Do me a favor and check my dress? Last thing I want is to be thinking I’m cute but I’m actually covered in chicken stains,” She said with a chuckle, slowly turning in front of Erik.

“Sure.” Erik said lowly before clearing his throat. He took in her frame, admiring her glowing dark skin and the way the gown hugged her fluffy tummy.

“You good.” He said, forcing his eyes to hers before they got lost in between her thighs.

She kissed her teeth and shot him a bright smile, “Thanks. Well, this was fun. Um...?”

“Oh, uh..Erik,” he replied, smiling back. “And yea it was...fun. Um...?”

She giggled. “Janessa.”

And with that, she sashayed out the double kitchen doors and into the crowded gala hall.

Erik sat back with one arm slinged over the back of his chair, juggling a toothpick in his teeth as he rubbed his now satisfied belly.

He would definitely see her again.

——

I hope y’all enjoyed! (lmao I’m so corny but Keke cracks me up🤣)

Also, let me know what y’all think. 👀

CONTINUE: Part 2.

🌞

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #killmonger x reader #erik stevens #erik stevens x reader #killmonger x OC #erik killmonger imagine #marvel imagine #erik killmonger x OC #black panther #black panther imagine #killmonger fanfic #black panther fanfic #killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger fanfic #killmonger imagine #erik stevens imagine #Elbow Deep

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hinshinotsuki · 5 years ago

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🖤 Switched 🖤

***

(F/N) watched as the new recruits train with their assigned Squad Leaders.

And the (F/N) from their world, being AWOL, had to be replaced by a balding Squad Leader named Ness. He was tasked by the Commander to train and brief (F/N)'s new recruits regarding the next sortie.

Her eyes widened as she saw them get on their horses to participate on the scouting exercise. She had never seen such a scene, and she was compelled to take out her phone to whip up some dashing photos of the "Old - World Soldiers" in action. But, then, a short reminder from Hange stopped her from even taking her gadget out of her pocket.

"You must never take your phone out on public, nor use it in front of others." Hange explained to her last evening before going out. "Also, you must keep your act as (F/N)'s twin."

"When will you be back?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, at the latest. See you, (F/N)!"

(F/N) sighed. She slid her phone back into her pocket unceremoniously and continued watching the others train. And, as she did this, she got noticed by Jean, the same teenager from the canteen the other day. He's wearing his uniform this time and not his apron. To appear as pleasant and as friendly as she could, she smiled and waved at him, which only made him even more suspicious. She got a bit nervous as he went towards her.

What to do? What to do? What to do? thought (F/N) hysterically as Jean went closer and closer to her. Okay, girl. Relax,...

"Hey, there." Jean said, his lips forming a quite charming smile.

"Hi." she answered.

"So," Jean began. "Your twin sister, she really couldn't make it to the sortie, yes?"

"Oh, I'm afraid to say so, but, yes." she said, managing a decent conversation with him.

But, then, things were bound to get complicated from then on.

"You know, she never once mentioned that she has a beautiful sister." Jean said, his smile ever so dashing.

Was this teenager flirting with me? "Is that so?"

"Yeah. But, then again, she never tells us things, anyway. She just orders people around. She's actually worse than the Captain, really." Jean said, then laughed.

(F/N) had to get along and forced a chuckle, which sounded a bit off, considering her current mood.

"Oh! I forgot to ask your name."

"It's (N/N)." (F/N) answered, offering her nickname and remembering what Hange said about concealing her real identity.

"Nice to meet you, (N/N)."

"You, too."

As (F/N) was about to take Jean's outstretched hand, he was called by one of his comrades, who looked far larger and intimidating than the rest of the new recruits.

"Jean, we have to go back to training!" his comrade called. He had blonde hair and a strong - looking square jaw.

"A second, Reiner!" Jean said to him. He faced (F/N) and displayed his smile once more. "So, see you later at lunch, then."

"Okay, go. Or else, your friend will get mad."

"Reiner? Oh, he's not - "

"JEAN!"

"OKAY!"

The smooth teen waved at her and rejoined his group. And at the thought of his slick moves, (F/N) had to giggle. She just couldn't help but think of his modern counterpart who was so different than him.

But, what (F/N) really noticed was the look this Reiner person gave her. Did he just scowl at her? Or, maybe it was just her over - active imagination?

She was still thinking about it a few hours later during lunch. In fact, she was so deep in thought that she, at first, didn't notice the fully grown, bearded man behind her, who kept sniffing her hair.

And, the moment she did, she literally screamed, making the whole cafeteria silent, drawing people's eyes, and undivided attention, towards her.

However, that did not stop the man from sniffing her. And when he finally stopped and grunted like he was truly satisfied, her instinct told her to take the fork and gouge his eyes with it. She really was considering doing it, if it weren't for the stunning female officer who told everyone to go back to their own business and waved the man away like it was nothing.

"Sorry about that." the female officer apologized, taking a seat beside her. "That's Squad Leader Mike Zacharius. He sniffs people he sees for the first time, then grunts."

"Why would he do that?!" (F/N) asked, still calming her senses.

"It's just a habit of his. Don't worry. He's actually quite harmless." the woman was about to eat when her eyes lit up in excitement. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Nanaba, one of the Squad Leaders here."

Do people here always forget to introduce themselves? "(N/N)."

"Nice to meet you, (N/N). Actually, I was told by the Commander to accompany you while Hange is away."

"Where did she go?" (F/N) asked as she accidentally took a bite off the hard bread, just like the other day.

"The old SC HQ. She met up with the Special Operations Squad. She said it was for experiment purposes." Nanaba said as she took a bite off the hard bread, as well.

"Oh." (F/N) uttered as she watched the stunning woman eat her almost tasteless food like it was the most delicious thing in the whole wide world.

They're Soldiers. Why would they settle for this kind of food? (F/N) wondered as she began eating, only to realize that almost all of the occupants of the room, including Jean, were all staring at her. Feeling her cheeks heating up, she looked away and pretended she did not see their curious faces.

"Don't mind them. They're just curious about you." Nanaba whispered, then smiled. "Who knew (F/N) had a well - bred sister?"

"She really never tells you things?" (F/N) asked, wanting to know more about her counterpart through Nanaba.

"Oh, yes. She only ever tells them to Hange, or Levi, when they're still, you know,..."

"Okay." (F/N) answered, confirming that her counterpart and the Levi here did have a relationship. "Why did they break up?"

"She never told you about it?" Nanaba asked, surprised.

"Well, she never tells me things." (F/N) said, making a quick getaway.

"I don't know the full details, but," Nanaba began. And in an even lower voice, she said, "After their breakup, Levi seemed off. Like, for a full month. But, who knows how? Maybe longer? I don't really know."

"How off?" (F/N) whispered, lowering her head.

"He seemed grumpier than usual."

"And my sister?"

"She looked normal, actually. Like nothing ever happened, at all."

So, she was the one who broke up with Levi in this world. I have to ask Hange for that later on. "Oh, I see."

"But, enough about her! I want to know more about you." Nanaba said, smiling earnestly at her.

"Oh, there's nothing to know about me." (F/N) said, then smiled.

"But, surely! How come you seem more reserved than her?"

(F/N) laughed at this. "Is that what you mean by saying I'm well - bred? Actually, no. I'm just like anybody else. I'm normal."

"And smaller, at that."

"Oh." (F/N) uttered, then looked down on the clothes she borrowed from her counterpart. They really looked big on her.

Does this mean that she's bigger here?! "I, ahh - "

"I know!" Nanaba said, her face lighting up in excitement. "Let's borrow some clothes from my new recruit. I'm pretty sure she's the same size as you."

"Really? Thank you!"

"Christa?" Nanaba said, calling for a petite, blonde girl sitting not far from where they were. The girl heard her name being called and stood up.

"Squad Leader?" the girl squeaked. Aww, she's so cute,...

"Can you come over here for a second, please?"

(F/N) watched in amusement as the girl, who was more suited to be called well - bred, went over to their side.

"(N/N), this is my new recruit, Christa Lenz." Nanaba introduced the girl. "She's from the 104th, just like those guys who kept staring at you for a full hour,..." They all looked at the place that Nanaba was gesturing and found several adolescent males, including Jean, himself, staring at (F/N), then looking away with cheeks red with embarrassment. Nanaba laughed and went on. "Christa, this is (N/N), (F/N)'s sister."

"Oh, pleased to meet you, Miss (N/N)." Christa said and smiled. She really looked like an angel.

"You, too, Christa."

"I have a favor to ask." Nanaba said.

A few minutes later, they found themselves on the female recruits' dormitories. Nanaba and (F/N) were waiting for Christa, and when she finally came, she was holding a full set of fresh clothing.

"I'm so sorry," Christa began. "But, these are the most decent ones I have." she said, then handed the clothes to (F/N).

"Ah, that's alright, Christa." (F/N) told her. She really felt that they were going to be the best of friends. "I'm the needy one here."

"What are we waiting for? Try them on, (F/N)!" Nanaba half - urged, half - ordered with a huge, sisterly smile on her face.

And that's when things got five times more complicated than earlier. For, when (F/N) walked out of the dormitory towards the training grounds, wearing Christa's clothes, things went completely haywire, especially for the male population.

"... and, so, we make a full circle around the Forest of Giant Trees, and,... what in the actual - ?!" Ness, the new Squad Leader for (F/N)'s team, stopped talking, dropping his chalk and making a complete fool of himself.

"Jean, don't go easy on me! For crying out loud, don't treat me like I'm an id - whoah!" Jean's sparring partner, a teen with a booze cut, completely lowered his guard, enabling Jean to utterly throw him off the ground.

Faces got punched. Horses got forcefully halted. Boxes got dropped on unsuspecting feet. The whole world abruptly stopped.

For, there, right before their very eyes,...

... was the actual, same girl they never knew they'd ever meet,...

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #switched #levi x you x levi x you #levi x reader x levi x reader #chapter 8

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lifeinahole27 · 6 years ago

Text

CSJJ Day 5: “Hidden Agendas” (au)

Summary: Working together for as long as they have, Emma and Killian have spent plenty of time sharing rooms on work trips. That’s what happens when you’re the only two single members of the seniority team of security. This time, however, with a sold out hotel to blame, they’re sharing more than just a room.

Rating: E

Warnings: Mild riot somewhere in the middle there, and obviously sexual situations.

A/N: This was one of two requests I got this year for “bed sharing” and this one kind of... accidentally became a whole fic. Dedicated to @captainstudmuffin with all my heart, for all the reasons you already know. I can’t wait to see what adventures 2019 has in store for us, both separately and together. A secondary dedication goes to @distant-rose on this, the day of her birthday. Hope it is everything you hoped it would be, filled with love and smiles as bright as yours!

Find it on Ao3 or FFN!

-x-

“Oh, fuck me,” she grumbles. It’s not quite under her breath but not purposefully loud enough for her partner to hear.

“That’s a little more direct than I expected from you, Swan. Should I close the door, at least?”

Emma turns, giving Killian a look that she hopes is the definition of withering. Unfortunately, he’s not deflating. If anything, he’s puffing up more, his eyes twinkling with his humor as his smile grows. He nudges her a little to move out of the doorway, taking care to wheel in both their suitcases while she has both their garment bags over her arm. He gets caught on her laptop case, trying to separate his own from hers as they struggle in the doorway. Finally, he’s free, and he stops just inside when the rest of the room becomes visible, his chuckles from their little dance in the entryway dying immediately.

“Oh, bloody hell.” And, there it is. He finally catches the reason for her immediate disdain a moment ago, staring at the one king size bed that dominates the room.

“Mmhmm,”she hums, turning and letting the door swing shut. It would be more satisfying to slam it shut but she doesn’t need the hotel chewing out their head of ops because of damage to a doorway thanks to Emma… again.

“I thought they said we had a double when they booked it for us!”

“Well, either someone doesn’t know what a ‘double’ means or someone fucked up our reservation. Either way, I’m placing my bets on Wendy.”

“Maybe Nolan got our double by accident?”

“He posted to the group chat about twenty minutes ago. He’s definitely in a king.”

“Give me a key. I’ll come back up after I get my own room and grab my items.”

“They don’t have any,” she says before he can even reach for the key jacket. With an air of defeat, she drags herself over to the foot of the bed and drops onto it, immediately falling back with their garment bags in tow. “Nolan called to try to block three more rooms the other day and they were oversold. We can do this, Jones. It’s only four nights.”

He looks uneasy, and she feels the same way, but not because she’s worried about two adults sharing a king size bed. It’s because she has wanted her security partner for longer than she wants to admit and after three nights in a row with wet dreams, Starring Killian Jones, she’s not really sure how she plans on relaxing enough to sleep.

“Right, just four nights,” he finally echoes. He sighs, loudly, walking around one side of the bed, the one he’s apparently claiming as his, and hoists his suitcase up. There’s a single chest of drawers beneath the television, and Emma watches half-interestedly as he quickly and efficiently unpacks. She’s not used to seeing the process, because when they do share a room, they’re not usually so… on top of each other, so to speak. He seems to have a system, some set order that he has to follow as he empties the small carry-on that’s identical to her own.

That’s a perk of being security to Governor Mills, she supposes. Their travel items and wardrobe for events are all provided, since Regina has this thing about aesthetics and matching. God forbid someone show up with a different suitcase, or wearing a jacket she doesn’t approve of.

Whatever, she can’t really complain, especially when she finally hauls herself off the bed to start her own unpacking. They have a property sweep tonight, a briefing in the morning, and then the rest of the day will be spent looking menacing and quietly fucking off with Jones, Nolan, Lucas, and the others. The rest of the trip will all be smaller jobs, but tomorrow’s Town Hall is the main event.

They’re always the odd ones out – Emma and Killian – because the rest are all paired off and, on the occasions they have longer trips, they bring their spouses and significant others with them. This trip is too short, and there’s a good chance that the only one with a significant other is Mayor Mills herself, since she does have her “personal security” of Robin. No one’s allowed to say it out loud but the two of them have been banging for at least two years now.

David has his charming little Snow White at home, Ruby has her girlfriend Mulan who also works security gigs like they do, and then they’re the two castoffs, Emma and Killian.

Emma’s unpacking is a little less refined than Killian’s. She’s doing little more than chucking her clothes into the top drawer on the side that Killian left empty for her, and he scoffs when he sees her method. It’s just her street clothes and under garments. It’s not like it’s a big deal.

“This is who I am, Jones. You know this,” she says, heaping the last of the fabric – a bundle of bras and underwear and tights and socks – into the last of the space available. The next drawer down sits empty, waiting for her to shove dirty clothes into. Her casual shoes all go in the bottom drawer, because she can.

“Indeed, love. Indeed.” At that, he takes his toiletry bag and shaving kit and goes to line them up on the vanity, probably with a ruler so nothing is out of line.

With a raised eyebrow and a quick glance to make sure he’s going to be occupied for a minute, she silently pulls open the top drawer on Killian’s side and has to stop herself from slamming it back in with a groan. His boxers are all folded and lined up, his socks in neat little bundles beside them. She knows for a fact that if she were to open the next one, it would have his undershirts and the bottom one would have his jeans, and probably a hoodie. This is just who Killian is. Using extra care as to not disturb his precious work, Emma closes the drawer and turns away from the dresser.

Next comes out her own toiletries bag, and she closes the suitcase before tucking it into the closet. In an attempt to appease the master of organization, she makes sure to hang each of their garment bags, putting his suit on one side of the closet with room below for his own carryon, and hers on the other side.

They each have laptop bags to unpack, still, but with less space it’s going to be tricky. She tries to make sure she doesn’t take up too much room on the small desk, placing her headset and her laptop on the smooth surface and tucking her bag next to the nightstand on her side of the bed.

It’s all worth it to bring a little of his style to their shared space, because when Killian finally does exit the bathroom, he sees the closet and nods in approval, going to retrieve his own bag to place in the space left so he can close it up. He sees the desk set up, giving another small sigh but smiling at Emma as he putters on.

“Thanks for leaving room for me, Swan,” he says as they switch. He starts to plug in his chargers next to his side of the bed and takes out his laptop as Emma takes her toiletries to the bathroom, not even really looking as she gives him a nod of acknowledgement.

Sure enough, Killian’s items are already lined up, and she sweeps her eyes over each one, wondering which one of the unmarked bottles (a color-coded system, for fuck’s sake, Jones) is the one that makes him smell like heaven, or sex appeal, or post-coital bliss. She doesn’t touch any of them, just ripping open her own hanging bag to extract her deodorant and throw her travel bottles in the shower. She leaves out her toothbrush and toothpaste, settling her own perfume next to them, and lets her make-up tumble to her side of the vanity in a pile of disarray. Whatever, it works.

When she walks out, Killian is sitting in the spot she vacated to start unpacking, a change of clothes in his lap while he scrolls through something on his phone.

“Are we meeting the team up at the venue or here at the hotel? As soon as I change, I’ll be ready to go.”

“The lobby, then out to eat, then to the venue,” Emma says, moving back to the drawer she just stuffed full of her half-folded clothes. “Don’t come out until I give the clear,” she tells him, turning her back as he gives an affirmative, and she starts digging in earnest. When she hears the door click shut, the race is on.

They do this every time they work together, but usually it’s in separate rooms. Usually it’s whoever can make it to the lobby first. One time, she took the stairs, skipping whole sections and feeling the rush of victory when she went barreling into the lobby two seconds before the elevator doors opened and Killian stepped out assuming he’d already won when he shut the doors on her face on the tenth floor.

Off go the shoes and socks, left in a pile with her yoga pants and t-shirt. For the sake of comfort, she even grabs a new pair of underwear, doing her best to put on all the new items while simultaneously chucking the worn stuff into the middle drawer. She’s just finished zipping her other boot when Killian wrenches open the door, hoping by looks alone that he got the win.

“You didn’t reapply your perfume,” he says. She also hasn’t touched up her make-up, but she won’t concede.

“It’s optional. I don’t need to do it in order to be ready to go.”

She smiles sweetly, especially in the face of his scowl, and she waits by the door for him to stash his dirty clothes and grab his wallet and phone.

“Call it a draw,” she says, finally, reaching for the leather jacket he grabs from the back of the chair at the desk.

“Aye, fine, whatever,” he still grumbles, but he’s smirking this time.

They’re still down in the lobby before the others, and they verbally harass each other with each new turn they play in Words with Friends until they’re joined. They’ve always found their groove in small competitions.

The rest of the night is easy. They all get dinner, a meeting of camaraderie that comes with people who have worked together for so long, before heading over to the venue for a security sweep.

They eyeball the places they’ll all be stationed tomorrow, as well as where they’ll position the rest of the security team. She remembers being one of the younglings, being one of the ones that didn’t have a choice or say in the matter, being one of the least informed members of the team. Now, she’s one of five minds that runs the whole operation, even if Hood stays closer to Mills instead of spending time with them anymore.

As David and Ruby complete the backstage sweep, Killian drops into one of the plush chairs in the theater Governor Mills will be speaking in tomorrow. It’s all old, but everything is still luxurious and well-maintained, and she’d love to see something more like a musical in this place if she could. She wanders over to where Killian is sitting, slouched down and leaning back with his eyes closed. She drops onto the seat next to him, easily resting her head on his shoulder. They’ve been on the road since six this morning, and the day has not only caught up to them, but surpassed them.

It’s still bound to take time before the other two finish up, especially when she hears Robin’s voice join the others. She tunes them all out, instead shifting as Killian does so they can find the perfect napping position. It happens to be his head resting against her own, his coat bunched up on the arm rest so it doesn’t dig into her ribs. She’s curled up and angled towards him, her head still on his shoulder and his arm easily looped around her waist. She thinks his prosthetic is resting on his thigh but she doesn’t bother to open her eyes to look, just reaches out to find it and happens to leave her own hand resting on it.

For security team leaders, they sure are oblivious to the looks and whispers directed at them from the stage. Ruby takes out her phone and snaps a few pictures, making sure to post one to her private Instagram using the Superzoom with hearts on it. David makes sure to snap one of his own and send it to Snow, making up for the thousands of times Emma and Killian have called the other couple Prince Charming and Snow White.

Robin just sighs, wishing the two idiots out in the audience would wake up already and figure out they’re together, that they’ve been together as long as he and Regina have been together. At least he and the Governor accepted their feelings and did something about them. These two, on the other hand, have been living firmly in denial. He wonders if Wendy really messed up their reservation or if she did it on purpose to try to spark them into acting on their attraction to one another.

Whatever it was, the other three finish their sweep, going over details and making sure they’re all locked and wrapped up before going to wake them.

“Off we go, you two,” Robin says gently, resting his hand on Killian’s free shoulder. Ruby heads for Emma, shaking her awake and pulling her from her seat.

Emma does her best to shed the sleepiness until they can get back to the hotel, but it’s a difficult task. Ruby pulls her along, whispering in her ear something about how adorable they looked curled up in the theater together, but she waves it off with a small smile.

“That’s just how Jones and I work.”

It feels like a hollow excuse. It feels like she’s trying to convince herself, and that it’s not working… desperately not working.

Thankfully, she’s too tired when they get back to the hotel to worry about how this is all going to work. Even Killian, Mr. Folds-his-dirty-underwear, barely spares a moment to change into what looks like the softest pair of flannel pants known to mankind and leaves his clothes to the side of the dresser. They take turns getting ready for bed in the bathroom and then Emma extinguishes the last light when she crawls into the bed after making sure her phone alarm is set and everything is charging.

They’re both gone from consciousness as soon as their heads hit their pillows.

A loud clatter next to her wakes Emma up, but not that full-wake you get when you think someone is breaking into your house. It’s that startled sleep that you’d rather sink back into. That’s where she’s at, when she hears the mumbles and grumbles from Killian coming from somewhere behind her, and she rolls towards him, reaching out a hand to see where he is before cracking one eye open when she finds the sheets beside her devoid of one Killian.

“What are you doing?” she croaks, her voice unsteady from the way she was probably snoring.

“Didn’t take off my brace,” Killian says quietly. “Sorry I woke you, love.”

She hums, unable to form words, instead settling back into her pillow. When Killian stretches out again, her hand is still on his side of the bed. They both make noises, some fusion of content and accepting as her fingers tuck under his bicep. His skin is warm, and she sighs as it starts to fight off the chill she gets in her fingertips at night. She drifts back off to sleep just like that, a sense of peace settling over her features.

The next time she wakes, it’s just before her alarm, and she opens her eyes despite desperately wanting to curl up under the covers for another hour. Tomorrow – tomorrow they’ll sleep in as late as they want to before it’s time to meet in the afternoon. The other side of the bed is empty, and it takes Emma a second to recognize the sounds of the shower running, and the very faint sound of Jones humming through the soft cascade of water.

Torture, she thinks. Utter torture, and no one to blame but the both of them, and nothing to be done until they can figure out what they want.

Upon further inspection, Emma wonders just how long Killian has been awake. His clothes from the day before are gone from sight, and she can see he’s pulled both of their garment bags from the closet in preparation for their day. She sits up, the blankets bunching in her lap as she rubs at her eyes and reaches for her phone, but there’s a knock on the door.

“One moment!” she hears Killian call from inside the bathroom. She doesn’t have a chance to move from the bed before he’s whipping open one door and reaching for another, nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half as he speaks with someone beyond where she can see. “No, no. My partner is sleeping. I’ve got it,” he assures them, and then the door shuts a moment later.

When Killian turns, Emma is still unable to really string together even a bare minimum “good” and “morning” and yet she still manages a husky “Your towel is coming undone,” nearly causing him to drop the whole tray that’s balanced on his left wrist and forearm.

“Bloody hell, Swan, don’t give a man a heart attack!”

“Sorry,” Emma says, trying to keep the humor out of her voice as she swiftly moves from the bed and goes to retrieve what definitely smells like breakfast if the heavenly scent coming from under the cloches is to be trusted.

Killian doesn’t even hesitate in letting her take it, instead turning his attention back to securing his towel and telling Emma to dig in while he gets changed. She can’t help it; she stares after him as he walks back to the bathroom, the towel hugging his ass so perfectly that she just wants to press her hand against it once to see what it would feel like; warm wet terry with a touch of firm muscle, she believes.

“Fuck, I need coffee,” she mutters, maneuvering the tray onto the desk between their computers and reaching for the small pot that will begin her caffeine intake for the day. Once she has a cup poured and sugared to her specifications, she moves about the room, turning on lights and shoving her glasses on her face before picking up her phone and checking her mail.

She doesn’t touch the food until Killian comes out of the bathroom, a t-shirt and boxer-briefs and socks in place this time. His hair is combed, parted on the side and swept so it doesn’t fall in his eyes. She wordlessly holds out a coffee cup to him, which he shows gratitude for with a smile and a wink. She hides her wobbly smile behind her coffee cup as she takes a large sip.

“You ordered, you divvy. I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

She still has to shower, but for right now she just tries to get her eyes to stay open and her mind focused. She needs to stop ogling her partner, first and foremost.

When she comes back out, Killian has two plates revealed, and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed in just his slacks and undershirt as he grazes his food and checks his emails. He motions to the chair and her own food, and she grins down at the filling breakfast that awaits her. Normally, she would just grab a packet of Pop Tarts on her way out the door, but he always seems to make sure she’s fed and caffeinated when they’re on these trips together.

As soon as she’s full, Emma offers the rest of her plate to him. Normally this would go the other way around, but she’s behind in getting ready, even if they are up a little earlier. By the time she’s out of the shower and has her hair and make-up done, Killian is fully dressed except for his jacket.

They’re all required to wear the tailored black suits that they get from Regina’s tailor, but it’s Emma’s choice to wear the tie and heels. Those were never specifications that Regina made, but ones she and Ruby decided on and stick to for a large majority of the jobs they work.

She’s not tooting her own horn but she knows Ruby is going to lose her shit when she sees Emma’s new Jimmy Choo heels that she got on sale. Just like Emma and Killian have their weird competitions, she and Ruby have one with their footwear choices.

It takes the two of them working together to get their headsets on and tucked away, adding their jackets last. Emma waits until the very last second to slip on her shoes, knowing she can handle the whole day with them on but wanting to give her toes as much relief as possible. When they get back to the room tonight, she’ll likely spend a couple minutes soaking in the tub to chase away all the aches.

The Town Hall was going really well, in all their opinions, but then the unexpected came to play. There was a scuffle in the back, a lot of shouting, and then pandemonium broke loose when someone pulled a fire alarm. The surge of the crowd nearly knocked her on her ass for a couple terrifying seconds, but even worse, she loses Killian for a few minutes. She does her best to regain her balance and instead calm down the people closest to her and stop them from stampeding.

Killian finally reappears behind her what feels like hours later, his hand warm and immediately comforting on her back, and he whispers that he’s going to check in with the others as she ushers out the last of the audience. She nods, barely registering why he’s telling her in person instead of calling over the radio, but she feels him place his jacket over her shoulders before he walks away.

It’s only then that she realizes she left her jacket in the wings of the stage somewhere, and her shirt ripped almost all the way open from when she almost fell and someone’s hand connected with the fabric. She takes a second to loosen her tie and throw it to the ground before she turns to do the same with the remains of her shirt. She fastens the buttons of Killian’s jacket over her bra and turns back to business, finally hearing from Ruby out front that the entrance is clear.

“Theater is all empty,” she says back, listening for the others to keep reporting.

The local police are finally here, and David and a few of the younglings have the culprits involved in inciting the riot. Robin and Regina got out of here as soon as everything started getting chaotic. In fact, they get their all-clear message from Robin just as they’re all reconvening.

“What happened to you?” Emma asked, finally getting a better look at Killian. His tie is loosened but still in place, his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. He grimaces as an EMT checks his pupils and affixes a butterfly bandage to a now-clean cut above his eye.

“I went running for the back when Nolan sent out the first distress call, but a man on the end panicked and shoved me out of his way as he turned to run. I lost my earpiece somewhere out there,” he says, nodding his head towards the theater. “What a bloody mess.”

“Thanks for the jacket,” Emma says when he’s released from being checked out.

“Of course, Swan. As much as I love seeing all the benefits of how hard you work at the gym, I wasn’t sure how much you wanted to show off.”

“Normally? I’ll show the world if I feel like it. While dealing with a crisis? Not so much.”

Over her radio, David announces that they’ll have to give their statements to the police and then they’re free for the rest of the evening. Everything else is rescheduled for later the next day so they can all recuperate from this adventure.

It’s a short ordeal, their statements, and then David waves them off. “I can take care of the rest from here. You guys are free to go.” He gives them a pointed look, his eyes darting down to their hands, and it’s the first time Emma realizes they’re holding hands. Have been. For like, an hour now.

Oh boy.

They’re silent on the way back to the hotel, one of the hired cars taking them back after Emma had collected her discarded tie and shirt and jacket. Once back in the room, she immediately kicks off her shoes (thankfully coming out of the whole ordeal unscathed) and throws the tattered and trampled garments onto the floor. When the door shuts behind her, she feels that irrepressible sensation well up in her and realizes that Killian is asking her something about ordering more room service but she can’t concentrate on that.

Instead, she turns and tugs him towards her by his tie and kisses him. His phone drops to the floor, and while he’s initially shocked, it doesn’t really take long for him to catch up. Soon, his left arm and prosthetic are holding her body close, his hand anchored on the nape of her neck above the collar of his jacket.

There are no words, only actions, and her actions right now are focused on unbuttoning his shirt and removing his tie before going for his belt buckle. He’s not a passive participant, but all he’s really managed is to get his hand under the fabric of the jacket, his palm hot on her bare skin, feeling like he’s searing his handprint onto her mid-back.

She’s just managed to get his shirt off his shoulders when he catches one of her hands in his own.

“You… Swan, you’ve got to give me a moment. It’s about bloody time, but I need to catch my breath.”

All Emma can do is nod, a smile blooming on her lips as they breathe in each other’s space. The hand he’s not holding is resting on his chest, and she kicks herself to actually open her eyes and look at him again.

The second their eyes meet, Killian’s smile glows brighter, matching her own.

“You okay?”

“Aye. You?”

“Yeah, just… You disappeared. You’re always right there and you disappeared and I kind of panicked when I got thrown into that wall.”

“I wouldn’t have moved from your side if I’d known the crowd was going to panic that much.”

She’s shaking her head, because the last thing she wants is for him to be anything less than perfect at his job by worrying about her. “No, you did what you were supposed to. We both did. But I just… I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever been with. I can’t lose you, too.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, love. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving.”

She chuckles, because she’s heard him say this so many times before, but this is only the second time she’s seen it in action. Or third. Or fourth? Maybe he doesn’t have to keep proving it to her, then.

“Killian,” she whispers, his name some question and answer all in one. Instead of saying more, she goes back to unzipping his pants. He’s just nibbling the pads of her fingers when his breath stutters out.

“This is a bit of a fast progression. Are you sure, Swan?”

“Does it feel like we should slow down?” she asks. Her fingers glide along the cleft of his ass over his boxer briefs, pushing his slacks the rest of the way off his hips as she does so. Because she hasn’t broken contact, she gets to watch the way his eyes darken as her hand continues its exploration, the way the tip of his tongue plays at the corner of his mouth, and then how he shakes his head. “Would you like to sleep with me tonight?” They can ignore the fact that it’s barely evening yet.

“Aye,” he says, the single word husky and so, so low. Her other hand strokes along his cheek, moving briefly to the cut above his eye and the butterfly bandage still in place.

“Good,” she responds, using that verification to urge him to sit at the foot of the bed – their bed – the one that had seemed a minor inconvenience just over 24 hours ago but now eliminates the possible question of “Yours or Mine?” Instead, she helps him lay back, her body hovering over his, her knees on either side of his thighs, her hands on his cheeks and framing his face as his hand glides along her thigh.

She’s still wearing his jacket, but she’s in no hurry to remove it besides taking a moment to sit up and flick open the button. He watches with rapt attention as she does so, allowing him more glimpses of her skin. This is how she prefers to show off the hours she spends training. Not by accident when someone claws her shirt in panic. Killian lifts his hands, urging her to stand once more.

Teetering for a second, she steadies herself with her hands on his shoulders, with Killian’s soft chuckle pressed against the smooth skin of her stomach. “Do you have protection?” he asks, looking up at her from his sitting position, his hand going to the fastenings of her slacks before he eases them off of her.

Emma hums in pleasure, her eyes fluttering closed as Killian’s fingers trail along her own ass, mimicking her actions from before. The only difference is that she’s wearing a thong, so he’s already skin on skin contact and her brain is short circuiting as she gets closer to nirvana.

“Swan?”

“You can’t expect me to function properly when you’re doing that,” she finally responds, remembering that he’d even asked a question in the first place and breaking away with a disappointing noise echoing from both of them. She goes for her shower essentials, finding the line of foils that she stashes in the front compartment when she’s heading out of town. Now, she knew she was rooming with Killian this time around, so she can’t even pretend she didn’t bring them for this exact purpose.

“I only asked if you had any because otherwise, there are some in the second drawer,” he says when she returns, leaning back on his elbows and spread out for her explorations. His shirt is off, so he’s left in just his underwear which suits her just fine. When he moves to sit back up, she stops him with a hand on his chest and a kiss to his lips.

“Don’t move,” she instructs, stepping back for a moment to slide his jacket off her shoulders and hang it over the back of the computer chair. While she’s at it, she reaches back and unsnaps her bra, leaving that draped over the chair, as well. When they’re even in their states of undress, she turns to him again, and Killian’s eyes wander across each of her features. From her skewed ponytail to her face, from face to neck and décolletage, and down across her now-bare chest. His eyes linger at her waist before looking further down where she wants him right now, but his eyes sweep right back up to meet with hers again.

“You look stunning, Swan.”

She blushes under the weight of the compliment, knowing full-well that he’s seen her in just about every state of unkempt to dressy, but that this compliment is different than all the others. It’s not just because she’s mostly naked, because he’d be looking below her neck if that’s how he meant it. But it’s the sincerity of the words that causes a lump of emotion in her throat, causes her to move forward again and climb into his lap to kiss him all over again.

They settle on Killian being on top after several minutes of kissing and touch, and Emma willingly settles back against the pillows in the middle of the bed while he divests her of her underwear, shedding his own before reaching for a condom. He seems to get distracted, however, and instead of rolling one on, he sets it close by in favor of drawing his fingers around her clit. He spreads her open for just a moment in order to taste and tease her there, his tongue flicking rapidly over her as her hands find purchase in his hair.

With any other man, she was lucky if she managed one half of a good orgasm, but Killian is doing his best to give her one whole, fantastic, mind-blowing one before he even starts to fuck her, which is pretty damn phenomenal in her book. Conscious of the fact that they’re in a hotel and it’s still early enough that people are going to and from dinner, Emma grabs one of the pillows and holds it over her face as she comes, calling his name with each wave of pleasure that rocks through her.

After a few moments, she reaches back down to simultaneously drag him away from where he’s still bringing her down and to pull him up to kiss her again as she flings away the pillow with her other hand. As her tongue flicks around his mouth to thank him without words, Killian presses the condom into Emma’s palm, silently asking for assistance. She breaks the kiss just long enough to partially sit up, watching her own actions as she tears, and places, and rolls, and strokes – watches the way Killian bites his lip against the pleasure he could probably come from.

When he’s closer than he wanted to be, he grabs her hand, bringing it up to his chest to place against his racing heartbeat as he moves forward and finally sinks into her.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” she whispers, and Killian returns the sentiments as he hitches one of her legs higher on his waist, opening her up in order to fully settle between her thighs. When he bottoms out, they both swear and sigh, and then he starts moving.

He doesn’t fuck like some wild animal; no, there’s a system to it – it’s thrust, thrust, circle, thrust, circle, circle, thrust. It’s slow and deep and steady as he builds her closer to climax once more, somehow staving off his own in the process of wanting to make it count. It only takes a couple repeats of that cycle for Emma to pull him down, to hide her rising volume by kissing him breathless all over again.

He’s just begun to toy with one of her nipples when she hits her capacity again, arching up to meet him and calling his name just once, loudly, as her eyes slide shut with blinding pleasure. It’s only then that Killian speeds up, losing the pattern he’d been building for her benefit in order to bring her over the edge. He still doesn’t hump her like a dog in heat, though, but rather pumps into her like a man on a mission as his fingers glide along her throat.

Just as she’s losing the ability to hold her legs around his waist any longer, she bits her lip and looks up at him, holding eye contact as he keeps moving. His expression is one of deep concentration, and when he reaches his hand between them to stroke her clit once more, she knows he’s determined to give her one more to coincide with his own. Her own fingers find her breasts, triggering one more sated flutter, and that’s enough for him; the noise he makes is desperate and broken, and he thrusts harder than before, burying himself inside her as they both ride out the pleasure.

When he rests on top of her, she drops her feet back to the bed, bracketing his hips with her legs and enjoying the solid weight of him for as long as he needs to rest there.

“Swan,” he says as he lifts his head again, his hair mussed up from her hands and sweat beading across his forehead – he doesn’t continue, just looks at her, drinking in the details.

“Yeah,” she murmurs breathlessly, reaching up to push his hair off his forehead as she smiles at him. “I know.”

He gives her another slow kiss before pulling away, pulling out, and rolling off the bed to clean himself up. She takes another minute to make sure her legs will work when she stands up before she follows him into the bathroom. He’s just washing his hand when she moves to stand behind him, her hands splayed across his chest as she hugs him from behind. With cool water still dripping from his skin, he rests his fingers on top of hers. She kisses his shoulder, peering over it to look at their reflections standing there.

“So, room service and more sex?”

“Absolutely,” she agrees, shuffling around as he turns and accepting the soft kiss he bestows upon her. “Order us some food while I clean myself up?” His response is lost somewhere in her hair as he embraces her again, and she never wants to put on clothes again if this is what he feels like pressed against her, skin to skin. With another kiss pressed to her temple, he leaves her to her own and pulls the door shut behind him.

Emma washes her face quickly, not caring about getting it all but focused on getting the smudges off. It’s only then she realizes she’s famished, having skipped lunch in order to prep for the Town Hall. She’s just thankful they were in some small town instead of one of the bigger cities, or else they’d likely still be tied up at the venue trying to give statements and going through security procedures. But this worked out much better, as far as she’s concerned.

Killian is lounging across the bed, sadly already dressed in his pajama pants again. He’s looking at his phone, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“What is it?”

“David sent a group chat for us to join him in the lobby restaurant.”

“Did you order our food already?”

“I was just about to when I checked my phone.”

“Well, let’s go?”

He looks at her, one of those eyebrows now raised.

“Do you not want to?” she asks, starting to fidget beneath his gaze.

“I’d love nothing more, but I wanted to be sure you wanted to, first. Swan, I have no intention of hiding my affection for you from this point forward. You understand that, correct?”

She nods, a little enthusiastically if she says so herself. “Yeah. And same. So, what time are we meeting?”

“He just got back to the hotel. Said he wanted to change and would meet us down there in a half hour.” He pulls himself off the bed again and approaches her, using the fingers of his prosthetic to tilt her face up to his. “I suppose that means you and I should both put some clothes on.”

“Cancel with him. That’s just unreasonable,” Emma jokes, laughing as she lifts up to kiss him again as his arms wrap around her. She hums contentedly before they break away, letting her hands linger on his shoulders for another moment more before she finally turns to rummage through her clothes.

She’s looking for fresh underwear and a bra, trying her best to untangle several items that seem to have knotted together while she was unpacking. She’s so focused on her own situation that she barely notices Killian slide up next to her and extract his own clothing. It’s not until she holds up a pair of underwear in victory that he coughs, and she turns to see him fully dressed, perched on the edge of the bed. The asshole is even already wearing his shoes.

“Anytime now, Swan,” he drawls, and if she didn’t have to immediately put them on, she’d throw her clothes at him in aggravation.

“Okay, fine! You win this one!”

Behind her, he chuckles as she mock-pouts and slides into her under garments. She finds a pair of leggings and slips those on, as well, before she grabs his dress shirt off the floor and slips that on.

“I look forward to removing that shirt from you later,” he comments as she collects herself, and she makes sure to throw an appropriately saucy smile over her shoulder at him as she ties her hair into a messy bun and slips into her heels again. She’ll be damned if she’s wasting their inaugural trip because of a scuffle.

No one blinks an eye when they walk into the restaurant hand in hand, not even the two younglings that have been invited to join. Henry did always seem much too keen to be safe, and Grace is his partner in crime as far as she can tell. They smile knowingly as Emma and Killian settle in on the other side of the table.

They’re all a little bruised and battered, besides Killian’s cut forehead. Henry has a bruise forming around his eye, Grace has an icepack resting on the table for her elbow, Ruby has a splint around two fingers on her right hand, David’s knuckles look like they got in a good swing, and Emma knows for certain there’s a bruise forming on her ass from the contact with the wall. It’s not even for a good, sex-related reason.

Overall, their dinner is quiet and full of some of their worst and best jobs. The longer time goes on, the closer she and Killian get, until his arm is looped over her shoulders and Emma is pressed against his side. It all just feels so natural, and that’s probably because she’s been claiming this is how they work for ages now. It was all just a precursor to dating.

When they head back to their room, Emma swipes through social media while Killian deals with a call from Robin to figure out if his headset was ever located.

A noise of annoyance creeps out without her knowledge, and Killian turns towards her as he listens to the man on the other end of the phone call. Emma shakes her head, unable to stop the smile on her face and handing over her phone. Killian looks down on the image and smiles, winking before he turns back to his call.

Meanwhile, Emma texts Ruby and asks for the original image, a shot of them standing and waiting for the elevators. Emma’s tucked against him, his lips on her forehead, her eyes closed as her hands rest on his back. Ruby has applied bright, glowing letters that say “Finally!” in front of the image, but really, she feels the same way.

When their work is all wrapped up for the evening, Killian shuts down his laptop and plugs in his phone. Emma does the same, ensuring that the alarm is set for a decent hour but otherwise silencing it. From that moment on, she only wants Killian pulling at her attention, and he clearly feels the same way.

When they fall asleep that night, they’re in the middle of the bed instead of on opposite sides, perfectly comfortable and content.

Maybe she owes Wendy a gift basket.

#csjj #cs january joy #captain swan ff #cs ff au #sarah writes ff

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justanotherloveaffair · 6 years ago

Text

Moving Day (Chadwick x Reader One Shot)

Summary: Your crush, Chadwick and some friends help you move. He stays after everyone’s gone to “help” a bit more.

Warnings: smuuutttty smut NSFW. oral, a hint of dom!chadwick, also please practice safe sex cause my characters sure as hell don’t. they should, but they are naughty.

Word Count: 7,562 (its so long imsorry)

Author’s Note: I literally set out wanting to write a super long and detailed smut scene and that was about it. I think I spent every single night for the past week writing this in my spare hours. lol. It’s probably FULL OF ERRORS and I’m sorry. Hope you enjoy.

Your name: Submit (what is this?)

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Taglist: @afraiddreamingandloving, @stevesthot, @kumkaniudaku, @nah-imjustfeelinit, @tchallaholla, @a-heretic-child, @simplyyamberr, @wildaboutchrisevans, @fullonfrenzy, @h-challa, @theunsweetenedtruth, @ljstraightnochaser, @90sinspiredgirl, @maverickabull, @big3gocandykahn, @sarahboseman, @airis-paris14, @tacohead13, @blackmissmarvel ***sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged lol, just ignore.

“You know you don’t have to stay and help right?”

Chadwick placed his beer back on the counter, finding an inch of empty real estate that wasn’t already loaded with boxes and other miscellaneous moving junk, and began to roll his sleeves up his forearms.

“A promise is a promise.”

It was too much. The sight of your crush, sweaty from effort, determined to stick out the move-in process after all of your other friends had bailed for other commitments, made your stomach twist and you had to turn your back to him and sigh under your breath to rid yourself of the vision just so you could think straight.

In addition to being unbelievably gorgeous, he had pulled out all the stops that day to charm the pants off of you, unintentionally or not. Chadwick had been the first to show up, the first to volunteer for every difficult and awkward job like moving the sectional couch, and always with a smile or his ever-present contagious laugh that you could hear clearly no matter what room you were in.

One by one, the group splintered as people left for their Saturday evening plans, and as you thanked each one at the door, you wondered how much longer Chadwick planned to stay. He showed no signs of slowing down and had just as much boundless energy as he did first thing that morning when he showed up at your door, stunning you with his fresh-faced smile and carrying a cup of coffee.

You were impressed. Not that you’d doubted his ability to handle a full day of lifting and carrying furniture and boxes, given the amazing shape he kept himself in, but it still surprised you.

With a group of people around, the pull of attraction between you was like a soft electric hum in the background, lovely white noise that was pleasant and constant but something you could cover up with other distractions.

Alone, it became a loudspeaker with eight subwoofers and the music dialed up to 11.

You couldn’t concentrate on anything.

You were bent over awkwardly fiddling with a box, pulling at the cardboard top, just for something to do with your hands so you weren’t just standing there watching him in your kitchen. Part of you wanted him to leave because you weren’t sure you could control yourself if he stayed. Two years of friendship could be ruined in an instant and the thought of scaring him away was terrifying.

Chadwick appeared in your peripheral vision, leaning his long body against your bookshelf and eyeing you with amusement with the beer bottle between his lips and his arms crossed over his body. Lord, his arms. They had been ruining your concentration all day. Sculpted muscles bulging each time he carried something heavy. Flexing as they reached up to put books or dishes away on high shelves. His long fingers loaded up with multiple bags as if it were a competition to see how much he could carry with one hand. You had noticed every single detail and nearly walked into walls daydreaming about those hands on you.

You bet they could be both soft and rough. Hold you up against the wall. Slide in and out of your deepest places.

Chadwick coughed, making an obvious attempt to pull you from your thoughts and your vision drifted over to him as you floated back to reality. What were you doing again?

“Alright Y/N, where do you want me? Put me to work.”

You stared, your skin burning at his words while Chadwick glanced around the apartment. Most furniture was in place, except for two IKEA boxes containing your new bed. His gaze fell on the tall cardboard boxes leaning upright against the wall next to a queen mattress wrapped in plastic and he pointed with his beer bottle. “Want help with that?”

You had been dreading the task of assembling it yourself, and he noticed your features scrunch up with distaste and that decided it for him.

“Come on, let’s get it done. You gotta have a bed,” he shrugged as if there was no other choice.

You groaned, outwardly making it seem like a terrible idea even though you were just covering up your nervous feelings that working with him to put together the bed you wanted him to sleep with him on was giving you.

“Come on, it’s the last thing to do. I won’t leave until it’s done.” He crossed his arms, your protesting making him more determined than ever and it tossed your already nervous tummy through the tumble cycle.

Just let the man help you put your bed together, your brain was yelling at you. And then fuck him on it.

“Alright,” you nodded and Chadwick’s lips turned up in a grin of victory.

“Alright. Why don’t you put some music on, and I’ll get us some more beers.” Rubbing his hands, he set off towards the fridge and you turned away from him making an “oh my god” face at yourself. You picked up your phone and looked for something neutral to play, settling on an early J Cole album, which began just as Chadwick handed you a cold beer and gave you a panty-melting smile.

You took a long sip and set to work, starting by carrying the boxes into your new bedroom.

The apartment became quiet with conversation but deafening with stolen glances, contrived excuses to hover near each other, and secret admiring glimpses at each other’s bodies when the other wasn’t looking. You couldn’t help but notice his arms, the long slope of his shoulders, his fingers as they fiddled delicately with screws, making you imagine them on you instead.

The space you were working in seemed tiny and you couldn’t escape his body heat or the sound of his breathing no matter where you were. Once or twice, his fingers grazed yours on their way to pick up something and each time you flinched as if burned.

Putting the frame together seemed never ending but at the same time, you couldn’t bear for it to end. In two years you had never spent this much time alone together. You couldn’t remember him ever being this charming and sweet and you began to deliberately prolong the time it took to do each task and sensed he was doing the same.

An hour in, and you were still taking your sweet time and feeling a bit more relaxed from your second beer. Chadwick turned the music up, the loud beat loosening you up a little and you were even singing along a bit, bouncing your head and moving your hips as you worked, building up a sheen of sweat.

The bed was coming together. You had only to join the headboard to the sides, which required both of you to stand close as you kneeled below him, allen key in hand to tighten the screws. Once the frame was in place, he helped you pull out the heavy wooden slats and carried the bundle for you to unroll together over the metal. As you did, your shoulders grazed each other and neither of you attempted to move out of each others’ space.

When it was done, you stood up and wiped your sweaty forehead with a sigh.

“Almost done,” he said, standing next to you as you admired the result of an hours worth of effort. All that was missing was the mattress. You went over to it, wielding a pair of scissors to cut away the plastic and as you ran the sharp edge along it, satisfyingly parting it in two with little effort, you felt a pang of regret that your time with Chadwick was almost up. You were feeling selfish and didn’t want him to go, especially since you had no idea when you’d see him again.

You kicked the large plastic bag into the corner and at Chadwick’s nod, you both lifted the mattress the short distance over to its perfectly sized walnut-brown home, where it settled with a satisfying thud.

“Yay,” you cheered with a little subdued clap and Chadwick grinned over at you.

“Nice work.” He held out his palm to shake your hand and you returned it as coolly as you could, while inside you crumbled from the heat of his palm.

Now that he’d fulfilled his purpose there was really no reason for him to stick around, especially now that it was well into the evening and getting dark outside. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask him to stay and order pizza but the thought of saying the words out loud seemed too intimidating for your exhausted brain to attempt, so you took the easy route and said nothing.

Chadwick looked up from the bed towards you. “You got some sheets or blankets or something?”

It was a thinly veiled excuse to delay your goodbye by another ten minutes and you gratefully jumped on it. “Oh yeah,” you snapped your fingers, a smile coming to your face as you dumped a black garbage bag full of linens onto the floor.

Halfway through putting the fitted sheet over the bed you looked up at him, tugging and tucking the sheets into place, and imagined this was your shared bed you were making together. The thought hit you with an intense pang of want and frustration at yourself for being too chicken shit to ask him out and maybe make it real one day.

The pillows came next and then finally, the big, fluffy duvet that Chadwick threw in the air so that it sailed down onto the surface. He helped you loosely arrange the corners and smooth out the top.

Now, you were truly done. You stood at the foot of the bed and sucked in your breath slightly as Chadwick came to stand next to you, once again grazing your arm and shoulder with his as he stood close.

“Looks good,” he murmured, “but it’s missing something.”

Your froze wondering at his meaning, if he had intended to sound suggestive or was just referencing some missing throw pillows, and held your breath in the gap of silence that followed. The tension grew unbearably thick until Chadwick turned towards you and you felt a gentle touch of his hand on your cheek, shepherding your attention as if you were a terrified animal that would run away.

You let yourself be turned towards the furnace-fire look of pleading want in his nearly black orbs. There was no mistaking what he was about to do next.

The first taste of him was sweet. A pillowy soft meeting of lips in a faint whisper of a kiss, his touch and warm breath lingering afterwards with a tingle on your lips. Your eyes slowly opened, returning to his briefly before he kissed you again, more confidently this time and your hands came to gently rest against his chest, where you felt his wildly pounding heartbeat.

Chadwick was first to break the kiss. The earnest look in his eyes made your heart ache as he admitted, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

Nothing about the way he’d acted around you today should have made his admission a surprise, but even so, hearing him say it took your breath away.

“Me too,” you confessed and a surge of nerves made you want to hide your eyes from him.

Your hands were still pressed against his chest and Chadwick covered them, resolving your long-wondered question about how big they would look against your fingers and finding the answer made your stomach tighten.

“I wanna kiss you again. But…”

You were hanging by a thread, your mouth parted as time slowed for the continuation of his thought.

“We’re in a room with a bed and if we keep going I’ll be way too tempted to put you on it.”

Immediately your mind flashed with images that made you almost moan aloud. The way forward was now obvious to you. You knew it, he knew it, you both wanted it, but you needed him to hear it.

Your chin lifted up to look him squarely in the eyes and you took a bold flying leap into the void.

“So put me on it.”

Chadwick’s mouth opened slightly, and the reward for your boldness was to be given exactly what you wanted. You were in the air one moment and wrapped around his body the next for the short distance over to the bed.

Your brain was still processing everything, it was happening so fast and you resolved to focus only on the now. And right now, your back was making friends with the duvet while your front was being introduced to Chadwick in several places. Your mouth, trapped in his kiss, your clothed breast being squeezed under his palm, your pelvis grinding against the solid length in his pants. You tried to suppress your shocked moan when you felt him and couldn’t help but gasp against his lips.

He broke away, kissing your cheek instead and his fiery breath panted against your skin. “We going too fast?”

It was hard to think with his dick print still tightly pressed against your middle. You fought to clear your head. “Maybe a little, yeah,” you smiled. You had been acting like he was a melting ice cream cone you were rushing to lick before it disappeared, and there was no need. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“We can slow down,” he kissed your neck, unknowingly hitting the sensitive spot behind your ear and you heard his words right through your body.

He continued to press slow and deliberate kisses down your neck, making you pause and take a breath to focus on the warmth he left behind after each kiss. Your hand found the back of his head, loosely holding him but letting him guide the pace of his exploration down your body.

Just as you were starting to relax and melt into his unhurried pace, a loud ringing pierced through the room – your phone.

“Ah fuck, go away,” you cursed and Chadwick chuckled against your chest, his breath fanning the moist skin from his open mouthed kisses.

It kept ringing and you patiently waited for it to stop, but Chadwick didn’t let the disruption slow him down. He kept kissing your hot skin and began gathering the sides of your loose tank top to pull up your sides, revealing your stomach slowly.

A few seconds later, the ringtone chirped again and you propped yourself up on your elbows. “You think I should answer it?”

Hovering inches above you, he appeared to consider the possibility, and then shrugged one shoulder and lowered down to your stomach, his nose nudging the hemline of your tank upwards while you became absorbed again in the moment.

You heard a pounding knock on your door.

“The fuck?” You both shot up, looking at each other wide eyed before you hurried off the bed, tugging down your shirt while you rushed into the living room, almost tripping as your foot caught the edge of your rug and then righting yourself in time.

You peered through the peephole and saw your friend Penny, who had been there earlier that day helping you move.

You had no time to consider how the scene would look from her perspective as you opened the door to her, looking surprised and disheveled, while in the background, sporting an impressive tent in his pants, was Chadwick.

“Hi Penny! What’s up?” You answered in an overly enthusiastic, customer-servicey voice and felt immediate cringe at the embarrassed look on her face as she noticed Chadwick and realized her badly timed intrusion.

“Oh….. hey, Chadwick,” she waved politely, clearly making an effort to appear cool though her eyes were wide eyed with growing horror as she shrank in the doorway.

Eager to diffuse the tension, you jumped in with an explanation that had the exact opposite effect and halfway through you groaned inwardly.

“Chadwick was here helping me put the bed together.”

“…Oh. Okay.” Penny answered with a hint of a knowing smile and you could have died.

You held your hand against your cheek with your mouth hanging stupidly open, looking at her expectantly but at a loss for words and she came to your rescue.

“Sorry to bother you, but I think I left my purse here – do you mind checking the kitchen for me? I think that’s where I left it.” She played with her hands restlessly as she looked at you, pointedly avoiding Chadwick who had gone to fiddle with your music, which was still playing through the speakers.

“Oh yeah, of course!” Anxious to be taking action instead of just standing there, you started towards the kitchen and sure enough, you spotted her pink satchel sitting on the floor. Luck was on your side as you couldn’t have possibly handled the pain of a long search through your apartment while Penny and Chadwick made awkward small talk.

“Here you go,” you held it out to her and she sighed with obvious relief.

I’m so sorry, she mouthed sympathetically at you once she knew Chadwick was out of her line of sight and mimed firing a gun at her head, rolling her eyes at herself and you tried not to laugh.

“No trouble at all,” you said out loud, and your hand shot over your mouth to cover a laugh as Penny next mimed her finger going into a hole she made with her pointer finger and thumb while nodding her head suggestively and the moment Chadwick walked over she instantly returned to a neutral expression.

“Thanks again, good night guys,” she waved, smiling good-naturedly at you both and you knew you’d be getting a phone call first thing in the morning from Penny begging for details.

With the door closed, you looked at each other with an expression of mutual relief and as your eye contact continued Chadwick’s smile turned into a laugh and soon you were giggling along with him.

“He helped me put the bed together?” you scrunched up your face, groaning as you repeated your own words back with dismay which only set Chadwick off on another wave of laughter.

“Smooth,” he held up his palm for a high-five and when your hand clapped into his, he held it and used your joined fist to tug you against his body. You let yourself be pulled in and, both of you still laughing, he caught you in a one-armed hug as easily as if you’d been doing it for years.

Your laughter began to die down but you continued to hold each other, and it didn’t take long to feel the stirrings of arousal return.

You recognised some softly playing R&B drifting from the speakers, unmistakably chosen to evoke a certain mood and it was working.

His hands slipped around to your back and pressed you up against his chest as the mood once again turned heated and serious.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

Such a loaded question and so many ways to respond, you didn’t quite know how to take it at first as his eyes probed you with intensity before dropping to your mouth.

“What do you mean?”

Now you were staring at his lips as both of you seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“I want you to tell me, if you want me to stay.”

It was a simple question of consent and you gave it, wholeheartedly.

“Yes, I want you to stay.”

He didn’t respond with words but his grip found the back of your knees and without taking his eyes off of yours, he pulled you up his body until you had no choice but to lock around his waist as he started walking backwards to the bedroom.

“Chadwick,” you moaned on his lips and he kissed you passionately, absorbing your attention until the backs of your calves bumped against the bed.

You soon resumed your earlier position, with his fingertips tickling up your sides, taking the fabric of your tank with them but this time, he pushed past your ribcage and over the cups of your bra where he stopped and admired before lowering his head to kiss your cleavage. Without pausing his kisses, he reached around and you arched up towards him, making room for his hands to unhook your bra. The cups loosened and Chadwick leaned back to pull the straps gently down your arms.

As Chadwick devoured you with his eyes, you wondered if he had imagined this moment before, had ever gotten hard picturing your topless form, especially today with your loose top that did nothing to hide the bra underneath. When you’d put that bra on that morning, you never would have dreamed he’d be removing it in your bed later.

Chadwick’s mouth returned to your body and your skin tightened with goosebumps at the contrast of cool air with his hot tongue tasting your sensitive nipples, one at a time. His palms were so large one covered your breast entirely while his mouth worked on the other. He soon had you peppering your moans with curses, arching up against him and he seemed perfectly happy to be making you squirm.

“Chadwick,” you whined, wiggling your hips to get your message across which made him pause at your breast and look up at you.

“Is there a problem?” He smirked and dipped his mouth to you again, taking your nipple in his mouth once more and you groaned again.

“The problem is you aren’t inside me yet,” your mouth responded faster than your brain could think and a gentle bite on your nipple made you gasp.

“The more bratty you get the slower I get,” he warned, matching your snark with some of his own and the way he said it, you believed he was capable of it and maybe even more. The thought stoked that submissive part of your brain and you hoped you got the chance to find out if he had more than just a hint of a dominant side.

“You gon’ let me continue?” He blew on your nipple and your hands made fists in the duvet at his bossy tone.

“Shit, I guess,” you pouted, badly pretending to be annoyed but enjoying this little exchange and you smiled down at him playfully.

He flicked your nipple back and forth and sucked it in his mouth, the action hollowing out his cheeks, then let it go and blew on the hard pebble. “I’m doing this for you, you know.”

“Oh?” you replied weakly as his path changed, little kisses coursing down towards your belly button and you felt the tickle of his fingertips on your thighs creeping towards the bottom of your shorts.

“I’ll need you to be very, very wet,” his fingers clutched your shorts around the waist and began pulling them down along with your underwear, “Can you guess why?”

Words were being spoken but you could barely think past his grazing touch and the heat of his breath so close to your pussy.

“Uh….” your brain was shutting down at his question and the low, seductive tone of his voice as he said it. Realizing he was waiting for you, you whimpered, barely speaking above a whisper. “Please tell me.”

The last remnants of your clothing were being carefully removed from each of your ankles, as leisurely as ever, until you were totally naked. Chadwick shifted back between your legs that naturally parted for him and he kissed the top of your mound, his breath a scalding fog that rolled over your hyper-sensitive nerves.

He didn’t answer you but snickered in a small little secretive way, like he knew something you didn’t, and your mouth dropped open as your brain cells died one by one from the silky, wet feel of his hot mouth closing over your pussy.

The slide of his tongue between your folds made your hips rocket off the bed, where Chadwick was quick to wrap his forearm and press you down. He paused, hovering over you, building your anticipation for the next touch and studied your reaction. The pebbling of your nipples, your taut stomach undulating with movement, the rapid rise and fall of your breasts as you gasped. When he dipped to you again you were already moaning before he even touched you and Chadwick could barely hide his smile.

Once his slow, dragging, wet licks returned you were wondering what kind of magic he had in his tongue. Your body was rolling, your hips fighting against his arm to get closer to him and finding his strength to be a steel trap. Chadwick was on his own leisurely schedule and it was clear you were not to disrupt it, no matter how much you begged and whimpered.

The juicy sounds of his sucking and slurping of your flowing river drove you nearly mad. He dove his tongue into you and cleaned every last bit of your cream. He licked you up and down, his tongue flat and wide, and following with pointed, soft little flicks of your clit before repeating over and over, his rhythm not intended for you to get off but for him to enjoy exploring all of you. You could see how much he was loving this, his cheekbones pointed from his little smile.

So this is what this is supposed to feel like, you groaned. I don’t know who’s enjoying this more.

His hungry eyes were back on yours, and your breath hitched at the erotic vision between your legs. While you were focused on him, he tentatively licked your folds and you whimpered again.

He implored, his voice thick and warm as honey, “You ready for me to make you come?”

Black spots were dancing in front of your eyes just at the thought. “Uh-huh,” you managed to get out and then your hands shot to his forearm as his fingertips began to spread you. You bit your lip into your mouth at the slow penetration that finally ended your wondering of just how those long fingers would feel sliding inside of you. He watched you react as your dripping, tight hole took him to the knuckles and only then did he close his mouth around your clit.

Words and thoughts ceased. Only sounds of intense pleasure left your lips as he stroked his fingers long and deep. Your juices were everywhere, soaking his fingers, running down your crack, onto the sheets and you hadn’t even come yet. He built you up as if he’d done it a million times and you became a squirming, moaning mess, unable to even say his whole name, the word begun in a moan and lost in a sigh.

The firm weight of his arm on your pelvis gave way slightly and you immediately rolled against his swirling tongue and searched out deeper, harder thrusts of his fingers. Chadwick gave it to you and more, sliding in a third while he reached up with his free hand to squeeze your breasts.

The slight pain of your nipples being pinched was what finally did it. He’d overloaded you like an electric surge in a thunderstorm and it was too much. You arched off of the bed as you exploded. With eyes clamped shut and fingers clutching the blankets, you grinded against Chadwick’s face who carried you through your orgasm, finger-fucking you and tirelessly swirling his tongue to pull every bit of pleasure out of your spasming body.

His movements began to slow and he carefully licked around your clit, shifting down to seek out every bit of honey between your folds as you stared up at the ceiling in awe. Just as you were sure no man had ever eaten you like that, you knew without a doubt you’d never come so hard from it and it caused you to stare down at Chadwick as if he were something beyond mortal.

Why did it take me two years to learn he could do THAT?

As you tried to get control of your breathing, Chadwick finally let you go and leaned his cheek against your thigh with a satisfied, slightly smug smile. He touched you everywhere on your lower body, up and down your legs, over your hips, your belly. You were amazed at his patience. He didn’t rush your recovery, even though he was still clothed and probably hard enough to cut glass. Your stomach tightened at the thought of it. You couldn’t wait to touch him, feel him, hear the sounds he made when he came.

You had waited long enough. Chadwick watched you reach down and impatiently pull at his sleeveless grey tank. He moved onto his knees, still between your legs and lifted it over his shoulders. Your hands raced to touch him, hungry to feel his body. You sighed to find every bit he revealed was just as perfect as every other part of him you already admired. He was built, his proportions just right and your fingers brushed up and down solid, hard muscles, and the coarse hairs on his lower abdomen you couldn’t wait to feel against your body.

Chadwick smiled at your worshipping stare that became even more heated when his fingers slid down to the button of his jeans. Even in the semi-dark you could clearly see the outline of his bulge and you were drawn to it, fascinated at its swollen size. The anticipation intensified as Chadwick unzipped. You had a feeling he was deliberately drawing this out and teasing you, making you squirm in wait.

He peeled the top of his jeans down, pushing them slowly down his thighs and your gaze hungrily followed the reveal of his thick dick as he finished pushing his jeans to his knees. He was so big the weight of him only allowed him to bob slightly towards you. And thick. You were immediately convinced it wouldn’t all fit but you would die trying.

While you were considering your doom, he lifted his knees to get his jeans the rest of the way off and once you were both naked, you kneeled in front of each other, taking one another in.

The bed dipped and creaked with his weight as he shuffled closer. You felt almost shy and tentative as you reached out to touch him, as if he were a nude model, a perfect specimen meant to be painted but not touched.

You reached out to delicately brush your fingertips against his hips, making his stomach tighten attractively. While you took your time exploring, each touch made his breath come a bit harder and more ragged. You skated your knuckles across his stomach, starting your slow journey down his body while he kept as still as possible, eyes closed in concentration, entranced by your cautious searching and making little sounds of pleasure.

You finally reached down and wrapped your fingers around him. It took him by surprise and he jerked his hips towards you. Emboldened, you applied the same gentle, soft touches all over his steel cock draped with the finest silk. As you began to squeeze him Chadwick made a desperate sound, so you held him tighter and he thrust into your hand, shivering. You became engrossed in the sight and sound of his pleasure, and the pearlescent drop of precome that dripped over your fingers.

“Stop,” he begged, looking at you with vulnerable pleading as his hand covered yours to halt your motion.

Sure as you knew you own name, you knew you were ready to have him inside you. Keeping your eyes on his, without a word you leaned back, your fingers catching the mattress and then sliding to your sides as you made smooth contact with the bed.

Intensity radiated from him as he watched you arrange yourself. You held your palm up in invitation and Chadwick smiled as you tugged him down the moment he put his hand in yours.

The moment your legs parted, you felt nerves twisting in your stomach. Oh god this is happening. Your pussy was bare for only a moment longer before Chadwick lowered himself down and gently rested his length against you.

Both of you moaned as you came together in an intimate kiss that grew in intensity. Chadwick held his upper body off of yours, his arms planted at your sides and while you kissed you ran your fingers up and down them, adding the scrape of your nails to entice even more noise out of him.

Then it was your turn to moan as he grinded his hips towards you, bringing his whole length to press against your slippery pussy and clit. Enjoying your whimper, he did it again and you responded by grinding back hard against him. Chadwick took your lip in his teeth and released it with a harsh scrape at the end of the next thrust.

You grabbed his face and attacked his mouth, roughly sucking and biting his lips as your hips circled aggressively, looking for relief from the ache inside. “Chadwick… fuck, please…..” you begged.

Finally, he reached between you, guiding his tip to press inside and you felt the pressure and stretch as he inched slowly forward.

For the first time in a while you heard his voice, and you noticed how broken and strained he sounded, as if it were taking all of his effort to speak. “Let me know if you need me to stop or slow down, yeah?”

The head was inside but even that was making you grit your teeth and you mumbled, “Yeah.”

“You alright?”

You glanced up at Chadwick’s eyes, bright with concern. Quick to ease his mind, you nodded. “Yeah, just… keep going. Don’t stop.” You thought if you could take more of him, it would get you past the discomfort faster but as Chadwick took a few more inches of you, you grabbed his arms whimpering.

“Shit, Y/N,” he began to withdraw but you clamped your leg around his, trapping him.

“Don’t you dare leave,” you demanded, looking imploringly up into his eyes. “I can handle it, just … keep going. Slowly.”

Chadwick looked distrustful but with intense effort, steeled himself for the shallow thrusts inside your tight walls, watching you after each one. You were relieved to gradually feel less pain as you took his size slowly. “Okay... a little more,” you guided and sucked in your breath as he breached you even deeper, and you had no idea if you’d even taken half yet.

The fullness began to feel like less of a punishment after a while and soon you found your hips were rocking towards him for more, to feel him deeper.

“Fuck,” you reached up to feel his shoulders flexing under your hands. His face was intense with concentration, seeing you but somehow looking past you to draw from a place of focus and determination to keep still.

You anchored your hands on his shoulders, rocking down towards him and Chadwick heard your little gasps of pain turn into moans of pleasure. He felt your body start to give, relaxing enough to allow him to finally sink all of himself forward to rest inside your snug, tight walls.

“Oh fuck.” “Shit.”

You both swore together at the intimate feeling, the fullness of him satisfying your ache in the deepest possible way.

Now that he was nestled deep inside you, his upper body shifted down to yours, covering you like a blanket. You relished the press of his skin as he molded himself to you.

“God, you feel so good,” you gasped and Chadwick lifted his head, bending to press hot kisses down your neck. He knew just what he was doing and his next thrust was aimed to make you cry out, as he pulled out just enough to make you feel the shift of his thick length before he gave it all to you again.

“Ohh god….” you clutched the back of his head as he scraped his teeth along your collarbone. His movements were small but the effect immense, every inch of movement inside sending shockwaves all through you. As he dug you out, he kissed and sucked all across your chest, never staying in one place too long to leave a mark, but leaving the skin wet and tingling.

He kissed back up to your neck and at the end of another slow thrust, breathed in your ear, each word going straight to your pussy, “That feel good?”

He was going to be the death of you. “Yesssss,” you dragged out hoarsely and scratched down his back. His carefully composed movements faltered at that, earning you a little groan and a harder thrust that bounced you up towards the pillows.

Smiling at his reaction, you teasingly licked his earlobe and taunted, “Oooh, you like a little pain, huh?” then scratched your nails harder in the same spot.

“Fuck,” he tore out, and his hips rocked up into you again. At the top of your shoulder you felt his teeth come down in a sharp bite, making a bolt of hot, dark pleasure hit you right where his throbbing cock was buried.

“You keep doing that and you might regret it,” his threat came in a low growl.

“I doubt it,” you whispered back and dug your pointed nails deep into his ass.

“That’s it,” he snatched your hands off his body and pinned them down to your sides, piercing you with an intense gaze, “I was gonna give it to you nice and slow, but now I need to teach you some manners.”

The abrupt turn in mood set fire to your whole body and your pussy clenched on him with anticipation. He had your wrists in a vice-like grip and your eyes pinned to his as you waited for his next move. To coax it out, you felt a vixen-like spirit possess you as you looked back at him with defiant, sultry eyes and your hips circled and grinded against his.

“Well, well,” his gaze on you was dangerously hot as you writhed underneath him, “this is what you wanted all along, huh Y/N?”

The truth was, you had no idea you could be so turned on by simply being held down in bed and spoken to so dominantly and the fact that it was Chadwick and he was doing it so damn well had you ready to be fucked raw.

Your answer came in the form of a loud cry as he impatiently drove several inches of hard cock into your soft body and jostled you towards the headboard. His hands squeezed your forearms to keep you firmly in place to take another punishing thrust, and then another. Each time, his pelvis hit your clit and you let him know he was in just the right spot with your loud moans while your lower body arched completely off the mattress to work his angle to your advantage.

In between grunts of effort he kept up the stimulation at your ear with his voice that was driving you crazy while his fingers pierced into your wrists. “You like this baby? Your sweet pussy getting fucked nice and hard?”

“Yes!” you were both answering him and welcoming the stirrings of your orgasm. You threw yourself into the motions of his body, swaying towards him as much as he allowed you to, and finally the pressure at your wrists lifted allowing your hands to grasp his body tight while you squealed from each slamming thrust.

Chadwick lifted away from you until he was upright and could hold your hips firmly in his lap, then began to bounce you on his cock with all the freedom of movement he desired. One hand dug into your hip and the other clamped down on your clit, first coming down with a quick little slap that turned into a firm rubbing of his thumb and that was that. You fell right to pieces in his hands. Chadwick had a front row seat to your ascent into the heavens and took it upon himself to coax the biggest orgasm out of you that he could. You dimly heard his words of encouragement that became drowned out with your cries. He fucked up into you and relentlessly rubbed your clit, then skillfully pulled back at just the right moment when you could handle no more.

You yelped as Chadwick suddenly flipped you onto your stomach and pushed your body down to the bed before you had the presence of mind to do it yourself, then plunged into you. The deep angle made your eyes bulge and you gasped, balling up the duvet in your fists and stuffing it into your mouth. You only had a second or two to adjust before he started pounding away. The sounds coming from him were raw and animalistic, building louder and louder, challenging your previous belief that men rarely made noise in bed. The auditory concert of his cries with the slapping of your skin made you cry even louder into the blankets, your sounds joining the symphony.

He suddenly announced, “I’m gonna cum…. ah, Y/N…” and the flesh of your ass became anchor points for his hands to grab tightly to as you felt his warmth spreading deep. He rode you so hard you were squeezed into the brand-new mattress and testing the give of its springs. In your very submissive position, you felt powerful, proud at the sounds of his satisfied cries and his circling hips pulling every bit of magic out of your pussy to feed his never-ending climax.

Sensing his comedown, you pushed the duvet from your face, unable to hold back the giddy smile as behind you, his groans turned into panting breaths and you heard him gasp, “Oh god….. wow... wow.”

His hands rubbed your ass as if you were a prized stallion after a winning race. You bit your knuckle with glee, sending a little thank you down to your pussy. Yeah girl. You did that.

He removed himself from you delicately, resting his body weight down and you turned towards his glowing, sweaty face looking at you worshipfully. At any given time, Chadwick was a gorgeous man to look at, but right now, exhausted and satisfied from sex, he was heavenly. Too good for the earth you were currently floating above.

You should have felt tired but you were brimming with excitement, filled with anticipation for another round that you almost certainly knew was going to happen, and for whatever shifts in your friendship would come of this, whether large or small.

“I’m speechless,” he admitted, still smiling broadly.

“I’m glad,” you replied with a glint in your eye, “you were getting way too talky back there.”

Chadwick’s jaw dropped open and you cackled at his shocked face, then gasped as he retaliated with a firm smack to your ass.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you rushed, anxious to repair any damage to the notion that you hadn’t utterly loved his dirty talk and bit your lip smiling at the tingle in your backside from his hand.

“You can do that anytime you know,” you stated, and at his questioning glance, you continued in a candid tone, “Smack my ass, talk dirty to me… whatever. I like it.”

You fully enjoyed his eyebrows shooting towards his hairline at your words. “You tryna get me hard again? Cause it’s working…”

You playfully arched your ass towards him and moaned wickedly, “Smack me daddy, I’ve been bad.”

“I know you’re playin’ right now but…. don’t.” He warned, as his eyes closed to squeeze away the mounting arousal and you sensed you had hit the sweet spot of his desires, which filled you with adrenaline and immature excitement to keep stoking the fire, hoping to get burned.

“Seriously, don’t, I need a minute,” he laughed before you could tease him anymore and you smiled, deciding to file that very important detail away for later.

“Stay over?” You asked hopefully, reaching out to rub his arm. It was late and you were both exhausted. Muscles you didn’t even know you had were aching from sex and moving all day but you knew tomorrow was when the real pain would kick in.

“Shit I don’t even think I could stand if I wanted to,” Chadwick groaned and began weakly trying to pull you to his side. You shifted until you found the perfect cuddle spot, surrounded by his beating heart and warmth. The simple, perfect feeling of intimacy made you ache and let out a content sigh.

When you were both settled and comfortable, he kissed your forehead. “Let’s never move.”

“I’m done with moving,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Unless it’s for more sex.”

“Goodnight Chadwick,” you snickered, halfway to sleep, and already looking forward to the morning.

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sunkiri · 7 years ago

Text

Times in Between (1)

A/N: So, I cannot stop thinking about an AU where Knuckles and Shadow go to college, like I don’t know, I can’t get it out of my mind. I couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted it to be a human AU along with it, since humans are easier to describe, but I think I’ll stick with original design. This could have many chapters or not, I don’t know. Enjoy, I suppose! Des: Knuckles has started his fourth year at university, while Shadow is in his third year. On scholarship for basketball, Knuckles is trying to get through the semester and graduate to be free of this hell, but he gets distracted by an odd stranger that starts appearing everywhere he looks. * * *

No matter what shape you tried to mold college into, not matter how much you forced it to fit into your small, close-minded space of perfect: it still would never fit.

No matter what a great honor it was, or how much you thought you would please your parents, or how far you thought you’d get with an associate’s degree: college sucked.

Sure, you could meet new people, have new experiences, but you’d be having all of those same experiences for a long time if you didn’t actually sit down and do the work and follow instructions. Those new faces would start to become irritating to look at, and you started to wish that you were someplace else where nothing walked the earth.

Even with a degree within his grasp, Knuckles still loathed the long hallways and change of buildings that he had to go through every day. His own dorm room had even become bland and boring to him now.

He placed his back against the door, watching the other students lag and drag their feet, an empty look in their eyes. It was all getting old. Knuckles felt trapped in this elongated time period, always feeling like it would never end.

“Just one more semester, Knuckles,” He whispered to himself. “Just one more.”

“Knuckles!” A shrill voice called, causing him to pause. He could see those bright, pink quills from a mile away. The smaller hedgehog’s flannel that was tied around her waist was nearly dragging the floor.

A small smile crept onto the echidna’s lips. “Hey, Amy.”

“Last semester here, huh?” Amy’s eyes were wide and her tone enthusiastic as always. The thing about Amy was she always had a plan, and she always knew the way her plans would pan out. She was incrediably determined, organized, and a little ecstatic at times.

Even though her cheerful and bright outlook would annoy most people, Knuckles loved her for it. Amy helped keep his sometimes gloomy outlook on life at bay, and their determination to succeed matched up well. Partners through thick and thin.

“Yeah, I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” He adjusted his backpack, rolling his shoulder.

“Well I’ll miss you, you monsterous dork.” Amy smiled, punching his arm playfully.

“You’ve only got, what, two years left? You’ll be fine.”

“That’s what you think. You and Blaze are the only solace I have in this place. What are you up to tonight?”

“Practice. Gotta get pumped up for the big game next week, ya know?” Knuckles rolled his eyes. He could feel his muscles already starting to get sore.

“Boring. Guess I’ll go hit up Blaze.” Amy shrugged, spinning on her heel.

“More like hit on Blaze.” He snickered, causing Amy to nearly snap her neck.

“Shut up, you over-grown rodent!” Amy hissed, pushing against Knuckles.

“Echidnas aren’t rodents-”

“I don’t care! Somebody could hear you, and I’m not in love with Blaze!”

“Never accused you of being in love with her.” Knuckles sneered, opening his dorm door before Amy could slam him into it again.

“Knuckles!” Amy screeched, giving him an oppertunity to slam the door, laughing to himself. He threw his books on the floor, sighing as he flung himself on the bed.

Knuckles wasn’t really into going out. He would rather spend his time on the court or some place where social interaction wasn’t required. It normally wasn’t hard for him to keep himself alone, though. Most people were intimidated by his power and his size too much to talk to him or even ask for help in class. It worked in his favor.

Glancing through the glass window, Knuckles watched the other students saunter on the campus, some laughing, some talking, some looking like they wished they were anywhere else.

Knuckles felt like he could easily forget this place. Soon enough he would be out, hopefully playing for some big league basketball team. He wasn’t the greatest at academic work, but he had managed to barely pass his generals and kept up his grades enough to stay on the team for almost four years.

He enjoyed playing on the court, or even in the field. Knuckles loved all types of sports and athletic activties, but basketball had always been his favorite. It was easier for him to play sports rather than hitting the books. Not as much thinking was required with basketball.

He was startled by a pair of eyes looking back at him from across the court yard outside. He blinked, focusing on another hedgehog sitting out in the field. A girl sat next to him, her ears twitching and hands moving smoothly as if she were gloating about something, but the guy next to her didn’t seem to care.

He was oddly colored: onyx black with red peaking through his quills. His leather jacket looked like it had been through hell, scuffs and scratches all along the sides. His black jeans almost blended in perfectly with his skin. Knuckles knew it was starting to get warm out, but the guy didn’t seem to care.

Knuckles wasn’t really sure how long he had been keeping eye contact with the guy, and suddenly became aware of how he was checking him out from top to bottom.

He blushed, turning away from the window. The echidna tried to glance back without being noticed, but the guy down below had raised an eyebrow at him, his expression still brooding. He wished he could tell the guy he was just freaked out because of how he was staring directly into his dorm window.

Oh well, it’s a pretty big campus, he thought. I probably won’t see him again.

Without a second thought, Knuckles pulled back his quills with a hair band, and headed down to the basketball court.

* * *

The next day, Amy and Blaze followed behind Knuckles as they walked to the cafe a block past Mobius University.

“I can’t believe that professor gave me a ninety percent on my paper!” Amy’s exasperated tone could be heard half way down the street.

“That’s still an A, Amy.” Blaze sighed, giving Knuckles a can you believe her look.

“But not a high one!” Amy whined, holding onto Knuckle’s arm dramatically.

“Amy, I’m lucky to have even gotten a D on my english papers.” Knuckles scoffed, eyeing the yellow building of the cafe up ahead. Amy would always blubber about how her grades were never good enough for her. She would have to achieve over an A plus before she could be even remotely satisfied with herself.

He glanced down at Blaze who had an amused smile on her face. She always walked with her back straight, her eyes ahead of her at all times. She carried herself proudly, as if she always had something to prove.

Blaze had entered his life after Amy. The young hedgehog had insisted on going to the drama club meeting one night, even though Knuckles would have rather eaten his own napkin at lunch that day. Blaze was the president of the club, and rightfully so. Her flare for the dramatic never ceased to annoy yet also amaze Knuckles.

In other words, Knuckles had declined on the drama club invitation, but Blaze had accepted his to become one of his good friends.

“Have you seen Sonic lately?” Amy asked suddenly, snapping Knuckles out his thoughts.

He blinked, trying to remember what she was talking about. “He was out on the track last night, why?”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No.”

“Oh. Alright.” Amy’s tone was too casual, causing Knuckles to stop before entering the cafe.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“You haven’t talked about him much. He hasn’t been hanging out with us lately, either.” Amy pouted, flinging open the door and walking in first.

Sonic was on the track team, but he always seemed to appear and disappear out of their social group. He always seemed like he had other things going on.

“You now how much Sonic likes his space,” Knuckles answered, grabbing a menu off of the metal rack on the table. “Just give him time, he’ll show back up again.”

“I think I’ll get breakfast today.” Blaze affirmed, smoothing out her napkin on the table. Knuckles snorted, grinning to himself.

“Careful, Blaze, isn’t that a little risky for you?”

“Oh, hush. I like to try new things sometimes.” Blaze confirmed, smiling slyly.

“You’ve been getting the veggie burger with a side of fries for like, years.”

Blaze had a very strict schedule with herself. Once she found something she enjoyed, or a niche where she fit, she would never change it again. She could be immensely stubborn, and sometimes acted like a know-it-all, but there was a calmness about her that was comforting to Knuckles.

“I feel like I need something different. Today just feels like a good day to step out of my comfort zone.”

“Can we talk about how I got a ninety percent on my paper?” Amy wailed, throwing down her menu in frustration.

“I wonder how early they start serving alcohol here.” Blaze mused, causing Knuckles and her to laugh.

A loud voice startled them from across the room, causing the three of them to glance over.

Knuckles throat seemed to close up. There he was: the same guy he had made eye contact with out in the court yard yesterday. He choked on his water, coughing.

“Hey, are you alright?” Amy asked, worry lacing her voice. She patted Knuckles on the back, trying to help him cough up the water.

“No.” He strained, sitting up in his chair.

Blaze was glaring across the table, the loudness of that girl’s voice still filling the cafe. “I hate that girl.”

“Who? Rouge?” Amy asked, her fingers still lingering on Knuckles’ back.

“Yes, she’s in my geology class. She’s a loud mouth.” Blaze assured, turning her head away in disdain.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell.” Knuckles rolled his eyes sarcastically, finally able to breathe again.

“I’ve seen her around before. She’s always with that guy.”

The mention of him made Knuckle’s eyes snap back up. This time, the hedgehog wasn’t glaring at him. He was staring unamused at his friend, a fry between his fingers as if it was a cigarette.

He still wore that same scuffed up jacket, but his shirt said something that Knuckles’ couldn’t make out.

“Do you know him?” Knuckles asked, his voice slightly too eager for his own liking.

“Who?” They both said in unison, giving Knuckles a questioning look.

“The guy that sits with Rouge all the time. Do you know who he is?”

Amy frowned, tapping her chin. “I seen him at the greenhouse once, during passing. He’s never been in any of my classes.”

“He hasn’t been in any of mine either.” Blaze chimed in.

“I know it’s a big university here, but I feel like I should have seen him before.” Knuckles mused, staring at the glare on his plastic menu cover.

“Why the sudden interest?” Amy quizzed, raising her eyebrow.

Knuckles shrugged, trying to resist the urge to look back up at him. “Seen him in the court yard yesterday. Just didn’t know if you guys knew him.”

“Mhmm.” Amy hummed to herself, a smile threatening the corners of her lips.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true.” Knuckles growled, holding up his menu to try and attract the waiter.

“Well, it seems like the guy has a big interest in you.” Blaze deadpanned, sipping on her drink.

Knuckles looked up. The guy’s eyes were on him now, making Knuckles’ self-aware of himself. The hedgehog had the most bored, unamused expression on his face, which made it incredibly hard to read him. It annoyed the hell out of Knuckles.

Knuckles sunk down in his seat, holding the menu up to cover his view of the guy.

“Can we just fucking order our food already?” Knuckles grumbled.

He could have sworn he heard Amy giggle, but she seemed immersed in her menu.

#knuxadow #knuckles x shadow #shadow x knuckles #college au #knuxadow college au #au #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog au #sonic #sonic shit #my fics #knuxadow fics #sonic the hedgehog fics #amy #blaze #blazamy

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dndfuckhouse · 4 years ago

Text

CuriousCat Archive

A series of Q&A’s that were sent onto the group curiouscat, now imported here for readability and easy editing :y

Q - would psalm suck toes? y/n

Psalm: When would I ev-? Actually, never mind. The answer is no, of course not.

Q - Does Amos only eat cheese...

Keva: he takes when he can get

Q - plum you ever smoke weed before just curious

Plum: NO NEVER SMOKED BEFORE

Q - Han what is your hair care routine

Han: well its less mine and more a friend of mine's... they just gave me some gooey stuff that smells real nice and told me to use it once a week!! i dont know what to do about the growing black roots tho..... :(

Q - mister finn have u ever kissed before...

Finn: T-thats a very personal question! How rude... I've done it once, of course.

Q - han, would you drink with finn again? are you two getting closer?

Han: ...its easier to get close the more drunk we get so ye....

Q - Han, whats your favourite liquor? -Finn

Han: THE FASTER IT GETS ME DRUNK THE BETTER !!!!!!

Q - Psalm, do you believe in fate?

Psalm: Fate is a very romantic notion, and in the past I probably would've said no. Right now I have no choice but to believe in it, I think.

Q - on a scale of 1 to 10 han how much did you enjoy your fight with psalm (the one from the rp channel)

Han: ONE!!!!!! IM GLAD HE ACCEPTED BUT I DIDNT FUCKING WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but ill win next time watch out psalm this tiger is OUT FOR BLOOD Psalm: :psalmface:

Q - on a scale of one to ten how much did PSALM enjoy his fight with han !

Psalm: It was enjoyable because I won, although I was hoping it'd last a bit longer. 7. :psalmface:

Q - WHATS FINNS FAVOURITE LIQUOR!!!!!!

Finn: Classy red wine!

Q - rokka what do you think about your street performance career? do u have any ambitions?!

Rokka: IT’S FUN! I enjoy watching people's amazed faces especially the children. Ambitions...? Maybe? *rokka falls into thinking man pose for a very long time*

Q - Rokka, how do you keep your fur so soft and pretty? -Finn

Rokka: ⭐STEPS TO ROKKA'S FUR CARE !!!!!! ⭐ 1) bathe in lakes! or rivers! (I personally like lakes hehe) 2) SHAKE IT DRY! shakeshakeshake (be careful of dizziness!!) 3) lick palms and smooth down ur fur. (this is the secret) 4) DONE! (congrats u have nice fur!!!!!!!)

Q - What was your first kiss like finn?

Finn: Thats a little secret between me and god.

Q - :):(

Rokka: who are you and what does this mean Psalm: It's a secret code. Why not try deciphering it?

Q - finn whats your favourite blood type? pls and thx

Finn: I'm usually not open about this, but I only consume animal blood. I dont have a favourite. Beef based strikes me as the least worst so far.

Q - psalm does it hurt to cough up smoke? how bothered are you by it?

Psalm: I wouldn't say it hurts, but it feels about as pleasant as you'd imagine coughing up smoke would feel, which is to say, not pleasant at all. It mostly just makes it hard to breath, but considering the reason it happens I'm not sure I'm allowed to complain. I'd rather not take my chances.

It does bother me though.

Q - keva, do you prefer being alone or with friends?

Keva: friends

Q - keva, whats your favourite food?

Keva: roasted quail

Q - Does plum always text in all caps? Do they do that to show all their suppressed anger

Plum: does it seem suppressed.... DOES IT SEEM SUPPRESSE

Q - plum, why did you decide to go to the ball as a guest with vinny? did you think it was better cover than being a guard?

Plum: just didnt think id be much use as a bodyguard also i wanted to dress up...

Q - to everyone: would you fuck on the first date ? 🤔

Han: i only fuck on the first date Psalm: No. Finn: What is it with these rude questions? Rokka: UHHHHHHH---? WH=HAHA WHAT? Keva: no Plum: what the fuck Cimmorro: i’ve never, but i don’t see why not if we liked each other enough. i’ve to say i’m difficult to impress on the first day gyahaha

Q - actually to everyone, whats your favourite food?

Psalm: There's a dish back in my hometown that we'd eat on holidays called “Smelt and Salt". Most travellers tend to find it salty to the point of being inedible, but I think its delicious. Finn: The servants at our residence are quite skilled, I enjoyed almost everything they make. When I was alive, I favored simple chicken breast with baked vegetables though. Rokka: Nothing can go wrong with a big ol' pot of beef and potato stew! I love soups Han: we dont get a lot of fruit way south so i was so surprised when i saw lots of it at shorewater!!!!! ITS SO SWEET AND DELICIOUS!!!!!!!!!! Plum: theres this stew that my whole family comes together to make for special occasions and we put a lot of roots and flowers and vegetables in it its pretty good. havent had it in a while

Q - *like a kpop interviewer* to everyone: so what would your ideal partner be like? >:3c

Han: if they can dish out as much as they can take Psalm: Someone who is fun to be around. Loyalty is nice too. Finn: Someone who can handle me and is genuinely interested in all facets of my life. Rokka: Someone who can enjoy the world with me especially nature. Accept me! P.S. Psalm, I am fun and loyal........ :pleading: Plum: uhhh... someone kind i guess Keva: (visibly uncomfortable and unwilling to answer) Cimmorro: honest and devoted. someone who is easygoing would be a nice addition.

Q - WHY DO YOU FUCKERS NEVER PUT DOWN THE FUCKING TOILET SEAT IN THIS HOUSE!! SOME OF US ARE SMALL IN SIZE AND KEEP FUCKING FALLING IN

Psalm: Not saying I'm the culprit, but you honestly could just check first. Rokka: I always try to remember to put it down! Although, I may or may not have forgotten once......................or 10 times.................................. Keva: you're tall enough to look before you sit

Q - Rokka, don't forget you owe me a drink the next time we find a tavern. - Psalm

Rokka: you got it, boss! but........can we have round 2.........please...........please.............................please.............please............................plea--[commercials cues]

Q - birthdays? birthdays?

Psalm: My birthday is on the 8th of Solstitium. Plum: 32nd of soltrice Keva: (briefly crinkles nose and doesn't answer) Han: i dont know! no one in my tribe kept track of things like that. judging by stories i think it during elfons? Rokka: hibernon, solvo 74! Cimmorro: 55th of umbrois. i’m expecting presents now that you all know!

Q - favourite season

Psalm: Aestas. It's a bit silly, but my birthday falls around this time so I've always been rather fond of it. Keva: elfons Plum: elfons Rokka: Elfons! where the grass is greenies Han: elfons... i like it when it goes from cold to warmer temperatures :) Cimmorro: rahtumna.

Q - before making a call (over sending stone or message or whatever) do you ever rehearse what you're going to say? why?

Psalm: Depending on the circumstances, yes. Rokka: No need to think when speaking. Cimmorro: depends if there are specific people i’m contacting. i generally don’t really care though.

Q - if you could be anything job-wise and nothing could hold you back, what would you want to be?

Psalm: I've never really given that much thought. I don't really make any grand plans for myself, as they tend to go awry fairly often. I think I'd enjoy writing plays...perhaps. Keva: don't know, never thought about it Rokka: I've also never thought about this <:9 Han: ah... i would like to travel again... Cimmorro: i like the way things are right now. [mumbling] if anything, i’m more worried about losing it...

Q - what would be a "perfect" day for you?

Psalm: I enjoy plays quite a bit, so if I could spend an entire day watching a good series of performances I'd be quite happy. Some good company wouldn't hurt either. (As long as they don't talk.) Keva, after thinking for so long it seems like she's not going to answer: being home with nothing important to do Plum: I JUST WANT TO GO HOME Rokka: running through a grassy land and bask in the sun (๑￫ܫ￩)

Q - when did you last sing to yourself? to someone else?

Psalm: My singing voice is rather unpleasant, so I don't do it often. Keva: a month ago? i guess? who would even keep track Rokka: I like to sing every time I bathe! rubba dub dub rubba doot doot rubba dee dee its nothing but a squeaky clean me!!!!!!!!!! Han: (flushes) it was a while back Cimmorro: i was part of the choir in my childhood. i was pretty okay! can’t say the same for the present though ahahaha

Q - what was the last dream you remember?

Psalm: I'd rather not say. Keva: (doesn't answer) Rokka: *thinking face*

Q - toilet paper over or under?

Psalm: Over? I'm not an animal. Plum: what.... the fuck is this asking Rokka: Is there a difference...?

Q - if you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

Plum: ...... [plum is starting to look uncomfortable] Keva: (laughs, doesn't answer) Psalm: I'm perfectly fine with how I was raised. Han: (laughs) oh, throw the whole thing out Rokka: nice answers everyone. NEXT QUESTION! :D Cimmorro: wait, hmm… not so much on the way of raising but more on a certain part of the situation, i suppose?

Q - what is your most terrible memory?

Psalm: *Looks somewhat distressed.* Plum: THIS IS MAKING ME ANGRY. IM NOT ANSWERING ANYMORE OF THESE TONIGHT. Rokka: please stop asking these questions you're making my friends upset. This is upsetting.

Q - is there something you've dreamed about doing for a long time? why haven't you done it?

Psalm: I wouldn't say for a long time, but I haven't done it because I can't. Simple as that. Keva: can't anymore Rokka: Life hands you lemons so you gotta eat them. *nods* （￣ー￣） Han: i wanted to learn singing. why... well. life doesn't work sometimes. Cimmorro: when i was a child, i dreamed of being at the top of the clergy’s hierarchy. then that immediately got crushed when i was told that only women were allowed to lead the church bahahaha! that was back then. right now i’m satisfied with my position and still have much to learn. but if the opportunity arises and i meet the requirements, i wouldn’t say no to seating as the high mother.

Q - if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?

Psalm: I'm torn between knowing the truth about one thing from the past, and a very selfish glimpse into the future. Keva: (doesn't answer, but seems to think about the question) Rokka: *vibrates* Han: there are so many things i want answers for, i dont think i could choose. Cimmorro: [visibly cringing as several things come to mind]

Q - of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? why?

Psalm: Lots of morbid questions here. I'll pass on this one. Keva: orin Rokka: please i'm begging you..............please stop with these questions...... Cimmorro: … [quitely glances at how the others respond instead of answering]

Q - how close and warm is your family? do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's?

Han: (laughter that becomes progressively louder in volume) Psalm: I quite enjoyed my childhood, but given the reactions of the others it seems I might be the only one fortunate enough to be able to say that... Keva: i liked a part of it Plum: dont know what the fuck psalm is talking about. ive had the happiest childhood a halfling could have thank you i wish i could be back home right now, actually Rokka: it had its up and downs. i mean, who doesn't!! Cimmorro: [laughs] i think mine is seen as particularly “strange” by most people, but i personally have enjoyed it regardless.

Q - how do you feel about your relationship to your primary caregiver growing up?

Psalm: At the moment, I'd say its rather complicated on my part. I'm ashamed to say why. Keva: i don't Han: *looks visibly sick for a second* ... poorly :) Plum: as in my mom and pop? i love those two Rokka: Tough love? Finn: Cold. Cimmorro: [beaming] grateful! i love em! would do anything to treat them at least even half as much as they’ve treated me.

Q - what roles do love and affection play in your life?

Psalm: I just LOVE to be AFFECTIONATE with people, so I'd say quite a large one :psalmface:. Rokka: i got to befriend han! and finn! Also, psalm it's not good to lie to the people. Finn: R-rokka I'm touched... Right now, love and affection couldn't be further removed from my life but hopefully one day, they'll play a bigger role for me. Han: (shrugs) i like having sex Cimmorro: i take pride in making sure that people who are important to me know that they are. it’s also the way they have treated me.

Q - for what in life do you feel most grateful for?

Psalm: ...Well I made it to Shorewater somehow. Rokka: meeting Han! Han: *was about to say something different but is so touched by rokka* dude......really? q_q me too dude.... Finn: My uncle. But recently I've made some good friends, I feel... Cimmorro: the goddess’ guidance.

Q - what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Psalm: I- . Hm. For now, let's say it was beating Rokka at stone, parchment, shears. Keva: i'm here Rokka: PSALM PLEASE ROUND 2 Finn: So far I have nothing to my name, but that might change soon. I pray it will.

Q - if you were to die this evening with opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? why haven't you told them yet?

Psalm: Where I hid my buried treasure. Han: i wont die. Psalm: I like that answer. Rokka: Why are you like this, anon? Finn: I'd want to talk to Orin one last time.

Q - share an embarrassing moment from your life

Psalm: I fumbled a joke I was trying to make with Finn the other day. I won't go any further into the past than that, thanks. Finn: Ah, so it was a joke? Please don't worry about it Psalm. Rokka: nearly burning my friends alive because I sneezed. :(

Q - what's your favourite weapon and why

Psalm: For reasons I won't disclose let's just say I'm not very fond of weapons, my current one in particular. :psalmface: Spells are more useful. Keva: daggers, easy to carry around and hide Rokka: I guess my scimitars? They can cut plants and meat well so i can (try to) cook! Finn: I love swords!! All swords! (he sparkles with excitement) Han: i like being close and personal with someone but also enjoy the quiet rush of hitting a target from a bow Cimmorro: i use a dagger but if i had a spear or an axe that would be kinda awesome actually.

Q - questions to fall in love here we go! 1) if you could invite anyone in the world to dinner, who would it be?

Psalm: ...I have a friend I haven't seen in a while, so I suppose I'd invite him. Keva: do they have to be alive Psalm: I was wondering the same thing. Plum: i would want to eat dinner with my whole village but if its only one person then my sister. dont really like going to dinner one on on if i can help it but maybe thats something halflings dont like because theyre not antisocial bastards Rokka: Do I HAVE to pick one? :( Finn: ... Rokka! I'd love to dine with everyone though. Han: oh, maybe aster? or ferrie chris? or uhh... (Han starts to look bashful and stops answering) Cimmorro: willow.

Q - if you all were on a boat (lmao) and it was sinking and you could only save one person from the party who would it be

Plum: rokka or finn but i wouldnt be on a fucking boat if i could help it Psalm: Plum, as they are arguably the only one I could carry. Oh, and Finn I suppose. Plum: WOW THANK YOU THOUGH YOUD PROBABLY SINK LIKE A STONE Keva: finn Finn: T-thank you all... (blushes and gets too distracted to answer) Rokka: This question is stressing me out. I'm stressed. This is stressful. Han: myself? is this trick question Cimmorro: myself so i can do this: [casts water walk] don’t worry bros i got this

Q - complete this sentence. "i wish i had someone with whom i could share..."

Psalm: I have nothing to share. Rokka: ...this drink with! (psalm, round 2 please) Finn: my fate. Han: my past, without fear

Q - what, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?

Psalm: I'd say death, but ha. Rokka: what roomie said Finn: I don't like jokes about my family and especially my uncle. Cimmorro: Wee Jas.

Q - when did you last cry in front of another person? by yourself?

Psalm: I haven't cried since I was a kid. Rokka: can we have more fun questions please :( Finn: I rarely ever cry. But last time I did, I was comforted by someone precious. Han: oh that was... (han becomes embarrassed) it is stupid Cimmorro: [wearily looks over where ezra is currently sitting across the room]

Q - do you have a secret hunch about how you're going to die

Plum: i wouldnt say secret but yes Psalm: Ugh. Keva: had a few, anything goes now i guess Rokka: why would you ask this? I don't like this question. :( Finn: Not just a hunch. Han: i won't die!!! what's with these questions Cimmorro: nothing in particular. i just hope that it will be by the goddess’ fates.

Q - fmk vinny cole ezra

Psalm: (What kind of agenda is this?) F - Vinny, M - Cole, K - Ezra. Keva: fuck ezra marry cole kill vinny Psalm: Ah Keva, finishing your doppelganger's job for her I see. That's a bit harsh. Keva: (lifts her hands in a halfhearted shrug) Rokka: Friend: cole, Meet: Vinny, K....klean for ezra......................... (in the periphery of the shot keva stares into the camera for the entirety of rokka's response) Han: fuck ezra marry cole kill vinny Finn: Who are these people? What is "fmk"? Cimmorro: f-vinny, m-cole, k-ezra

Q - Everyone, where would you like to visit someday?

Psalm: I'm not really one for traveling but since we seem to be headed there already, Vargonia sounds interesting. There's probably a lot to do there. Rokka: I like open land so anywhere with one? Finn: Sharrif!! If I wasn't dutybound at home I'd love to move there. Keva: never thought about it Han: oh oh oh! some guy passed the inn and said there are mountains that reach into another PLANE in sonnate!!! i wanna go there!!!!!! Cimmorro: i’d like to see the arcane well myself heehee

Q - what's your earliest memory? is this too spoilery idk i'm shooting my shot

Psalm: I'm pretty sure it was when my mother dropped me into the ocean by accident. Why I have no fear of swimming because of this has yet to reveal itself to me. Plum: i remember........ bumping into the kitchen table when i was younger and something might've been a rolling pin hitting me on the head and then fucking crying obviously and my parents swinging me around Rokka: I remember seeing a little bug flying around and chasing it all around so that I could tell them I thought they looked cute.....I was too small to reach the little bug on the tree though haha Keva: i don't remember her name Finn: Playing with my cousins, surrounded by our family. Han: being held by big, heavy hands. close to the chest. Cimmorro: falling off a cliff lol

Q - i had assumed psalms arcane power was new to him but is it actually?

Psalm: An interesting assumption. I'd love to know why you think so.

Q - PSALM ROUND 2 PLEASE - rokka

Psalm: I'll think about it.

Q - how do you sleep the best?

Rokka: laying sprawled on my back is the best! Sometimes fetal. Finn: I actually... do enjoy sleeping in my coffin. So in confined spaces I suppose. Sharing a bed with Rokka was very comfortable too. (Rokka self-fives himself in the bg) Psalm: Having horns makes sleeping on my back a bit of an issue, but they sit just on top of my head enough for me to sleep reasonably well on my side. Cimmorro: i don’t remember anymore… can’t say i’ve slept very well the last few years

Q - what was your mode of travel to shorewater?

Rokka: mode..? Oh, hard mode! Finn: Hard mode? Keva: (looks at the camera) Psalm: Boat. Han: foot, the odd cart here and there. Cimmorro: i stayed on land as much as possible through various modes.

Q - around what time do you prefer to eat dinner?

Rokka: any time is good in my book! Keva: late enough to not be hungry before i sleep Finn: .................. Psalm: Early evening? I've never given it much thought.

Q - if you knew in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you're living? why?

Psalm: My life right now is not something that is within my ability to change. Rokka: Same as roomie here...I don't think I want to be falsely accused of murder... Cimmorro: … no. i’ll just have to keep trying until such time comes.

Q - what’s your typical bed time? any routines?

Rokka: Never too late! I like to do some quick stretches after a long day for a good nights rest! Most of the time I just plop down lol Finn: I like to stay up past sunrise actually. Psalm: No. I usually go right to sleep. Preferably as early as possible since I don't like being tired. Cimmorro: i try to keep a strict and healthy routine but [sigh]

Q - what's something you might like for (insert gift-giving custom for holiday equivalent here)?

Finn: Jewellery and swords. Psalm: A good book would be nice. I also like masks. Rokka: I'll like anything as long as it came from their heart! Just the idea of them thinking about me warms me up. Cimmorro: same as rokka.

Q - how do you stay fit?

Rokka: 250 Push-ups, 250 Yard Handwalk, Jump Rope- 2000 Times, 250 Straight Punches to Heavy Bag, 250 Roundhouse Kicks to Heavy Bag, annnnnd 500 Squats. Finn: Thats quite impressive Rokka: ... (Rokka salutes) Psalm: I wouldn't say I'm the most physically fit man out there. (8 STR) Cimmorro: morning walks, maybe even jogs, if i’ve got the time to spare… which is almost never. does carrying stacks of books count?

Q - to everyone: do you like anime

Rokka: what's anime? :0 Psalm: ...Animals? They're alright. I like small ones, like puppies, kittens, chicks etc. Finn: If you've seen Promare, please DM me.

Q - do you prefer meat or veggies

Rokka: meat......but veggies are good too.......can I pick both? Psalm: Meat. Finn: Meat as well. Han: meeeeeat Cimmorro: i find it difficult to enjoy a meal without having both.

Q - what is your most treasured memory

Psalm: :psalmface: Rokka: :) Finn: ^___^ Han: (Han thinks briefly and then blushes, embarrassed)

Q - how do you feel about physical touch? yea? nay?

Finn: I dont experience much of it but I enjoy it when I do. Keva: depends Psalm: I prefer to keep to myself. Rokka: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! *hugs Psalm* Psalm: *Sighs* Han: (shrugs) everyone was always touching me, so am used to it. Cimmorro: big no! unless we’re close, don’t touch me.

Q - what does friendship mean to you?

Psalm: God is that you? Rokka: Everything! Psalm, is God your friend? Psalm: *suddenly regretting his answer*

Q - coffee or tea?

Rokka: TEA! Psalm: I'm not particularly fond of either, but if I had to pick, tea. Finn: Tea! What kind do you favor Psalm? Psalm: Chamomile or mint, depending on what's available. And yourself? Finn: Oh, I quite like that one too. My favourite is Rose Petal Blend though, perhaps we could share a cup- *remembers vampirism* Ah- perhaps I could have... a cup of blood if it doesnt disgust you. Psalm: That wouldn't disgust me at all. Just pick a day. Finn: *crying cat* Keva: never had coffee Cimmorro: coffee. though one of my parents often share their special tea brew with me in the afternoons or long nights of work. it’s pretty much the only kind of tea i like… i miss it.

Q - what's a favourite feature of yourself? can be external or internal, or both

Finn: I took good care of my hair before I became undead. So my hair would've been it. Psalm: Regarding physical traits...my mother and I have identical eyes and horns. Mum found it cute, so I guess I grew up being somewhat fond as well... Interal, I don't self reflect that often. I'll leave that unanswered. Rokka: I like my blue fur! and eyes! Keva: (shrugs) don't think about that sorta thing Han: (Han becomes increasingly despondent the more she thinks) none is good enough. i need to be better. Cimmorro: my cleric magic!!!!!!!!! \\\\o//// i also like my hair and tail a lot!

Q - what’s something you used to be afraid of as a kid?

Finn: My aunt was quite scary haha. Psalm: When my mother got mad at me... Rokka: Loud noises Keva: throwing up Cimmorro: oh i used to see a shadow of a demon in my quarters quite often for a few years. freaked me out a lot of times but i believe lady wee jas protected me since that demon never did come to harm me at all. :D

Q - do you know the muffin man?

Rokka: The muffin man..? Finn: The muffin man... I would like to meet him. Keva: what

Q - what’s your preferred weather

Rokka: Sunny! but with a nice breeze! (≧▽≦) Finn: I dislike rain, but fog can be nice to watch. Since I only operate at night now clear weather is preferred. Psalm: I like sunny weather, but rainy days are nice when I don't have to be outside. Keva: warm and clear Cimmorro: same as psalm.

Q - are you an early riser or late sleeper?

Rokka: EARLY WOLF CATCHES THE DEER Psalm: Depends on when I need to get up. Keva: depends Cimmorro: both…. 🤦‍♂️

Q - what are your feelings on pda

Rokka: What's "peh-dah"? Psalm: I have no problem with it, although I dislike drawing attention to myself, so then again... Cimmorro: depends, but especially dislike it during work.

Q - what’s your best “my coworkers are crazy” story?

Rokka: (nervously glances back at everyone) Um...Uh...Haha (forced smile) Keva: (doesn't break eye contact with the camera as she gestures at the rest of the party) Psalm: I was partnered with a friend once for a... well a thing that we had to do, and he somehow managed to gamble away all of his clothing. Cimmorro: all of this right now

Q - what's your favourite type of bread

Keva: bread Rokka: Any is good! Psalm: Croissants are nice. Cimmorro: any as long as it’s fresh out of the oven.

Q - when was the last time you laughed so hard it was hard to stop? what was so funny?

Psalm: Refer to the "coworker" answer.

Q - guilty pleasures?

Psalm: I like to read poetry. I only feel guilty about it because a friend of mine said it made me seem too brooding, and now I'm a bit self conscious Cimmorro: playing pranks on my coworkers during break

Q - are you still in touch with friends from your childhood?

Keva: some of them Rokka: I wish I could say that Psalm: Not for a couple months now, no. Finn: Yes! My friend Sagessa and I are penpals, so even if we're far apart we can always talk!! Han: (han shakes her head dejectedly) Cimmorro: mhm

Q - who's someone interesting you met recently

Rokka: Finn!!!!! He can turn into things! so cool Psalm: I would also have say Finn, as I'd never met a vampire before now. Not to say the rest of you aren't interesting enough. Finn: *turns into a bat and hangs himself upside down from Rokka's shoulder* Han: (han looks around warily) (whispers) psalm BUT DONT TELL HIM THAT!!!! what is that guys DEAL Cimmorro: i agree about finn

Q - what's the best day you've had recently?

Rokka: Hard to say with whats been happening Psalm: "Recently" is a bit of a stretch. Finn: I had a good time at the ball with Orin! Cimmorro: the king consort accepting my offer was cool and exciting. feel like i haven’t had a normal job in years with how long these weeks have been going pffff

Q - do you have siblings

Psalm: It's entirely within the realm of possibility, but none that I'd ever care to meet. Keva: don't know Han: yes Cimmorro: in a way, yes

Q - how important is fashion to you

Finn: If I dont look good whats the point of anything. Psalm: Not very. Keva: it's not Rokka: Somewhat? I just bought my first and only shirt ever!! that's pretty fashionable of myself if you asked me. B) Han: (gets bashful) there are some cute dresses i see around town but... :wiwi: Cimmorro: [gestures at all of himself] :-)

Q - do you have any personal belongings that you would feel upset about losing? what are they?

Psalm: No, I've never really had any attachment to material things. I suppose there is this dagger I've picked up recently that has served some use, so maybe that...maybe. Finn: My earrings or my sword. I cherish them. Han: yeah. some weapons i have were made by uuh. a significant person in my life. Cimmorro: my headpiece and holy symbol. other jewelry pieces i have i can replace easily, but not these…

Q - if you had a completely free day with no responsibilities or obligations, what would you do with your time?

Finn: Honestly? I'd like to sleep and dream about nice things. Rokka: I would love to go sight seeing at places i haven't been to! Han: oh me too Rokka!!!! maybe we can go together someday :) Cimmorro: mmm… quite rare the last few years but i did enjoy my day offs by fishing, spending time with the children and sleeping of course. i’ve no idea what else to do, otherwise...

Q - do you take long or short baths?

Finn: I liked to take long baths back then. Rokka: long! gotta make sure all this fur is fresh and clean! Han: i used to be in and out of the water real fast but i can enjoy a long bath now sometimes... Cimmorro: i like to take long ones whenever i can! but i often find myself having to take short baths or showers in a rush...

Q - favourite piece of literature?

Psalm: I haven't gotten much reading in recently, but I liked the stories my mum would read to me when I was younger. When I remember the names I'll get back to you. Rokka: the ones that has a picture of something and words that tells me what they are! I like those if that counts Keva: my what Finn: I love folklore and fairy tales... I hope this doesn't make me seem childish. Han: lich-reh.... is that one of those book names for a mushroom?? Cimmorro: does the white book count? feel like that’d be too obvious hehe… i like to read anything i find interesting at the time. arcane, scriptures of other churches, etc. not too big of a fan of fictions though.

Q - ur cute have a nice day ♡

Finn: Rokka someone said youre cute. Rokka: oh..! really? how do you know?!

Q - if you could get away with one crime what would it be

Rokka: the only crime I will commit is this current crime due to being framed!!! Cin: Arson. Psalm: Murder I guess, given our current situation. Cimmorro: ...if i knew i was guilty, i’d turn myself right in.

Q - We Got A Benefit Concert 4 These Male Lesbians In Da Planning Stages How U Gon Contribute

Keva: [geralt "hm"]

Q - where is this fuk house located. I need it for research purposes.

Han: there are several brothels in shorewater, if you want i can give recommendation...

Q - how do you feel about showing skin when it comes to what you wear? are you comfortable with it, or do you prefer not to?

Han: (slaps her bare thigh) you know it baaabyyyyyyy Rokka: i feel more comfortable and less restricted with no shirt.....pants r cool tho! Psalm: Like any average person. Cimmorro: unless it’s incredibly hot out, i 100% avoid exposing any of these scales to any dirts and stains

Q - maybe in a word or two, without giving a lot away, what are you in shorewater for?

Han: i was told to get a fresh start here? whatever that means LOL Keva: repay a debt Rokka: im just s---im just sitting here Psalm: No particular reason. Just ended up here really.

Q - do you ever feel lonely

Finn: ^___^ Rokka: hard to when I'm around these fellas *gestures to everyone* Psalm: No, I don't mind being by myself. Keva: (long silence with no eye contact before answering) sometimes, lately, whatever Cimmorro: fucking homesick is more like it

Q - what's something that makes you feel nostalgic

Han: ... some of my weapons and tools. Keva: i guess, elfonsent or whatever it's called here....big festivals for public holidays Cimmorro: Jasper.

Q - do you like to cook? what would you say is your specialty?

Rokka: does roasting something on a stick count??? Han: same as rokka... i think i always did more of preparation of ingredients than actual cooking. Keva: i don't cook Cimmorro: yeee people seem to enjoy my stuffed grilled fish the most

Q - do you like it here in shorewater, unfortunate events aside?

Han: yeah!!! its been fun! i was not here very long but i made a couple of friends!! Keva: eh, it's definitely true a lot of things happen here Cimmorro: i'm not particularly interested of this place

Q - how would you feel about getting involved in a train murder mystery that may or may not involve werewolves?

Han: WEREWOLVES???????????? HOW DO I INVOLVE MYSELF Keva: hard pass Cimmorro: [grimacing] i’d rather avoid doing anything that doesn’t involve my duties to my faith, if i had the choice.

Q - what incredibly common thing have you never done?

Finn: So, I hear that commoners are very skilled in all sorts of handiwork? How exhilarating. One day, I'd like to fix my chair myself when it breaks down. Or shop for ingredients on a market street myself, imagine the wonders! Keva: read Cimmorro: ...a vacation?

Q - Welcome to Good Burger home of the Good Burger! Can I take your order?

Finn: May I order some Nuggets

Q - do you prefer to be the big spoon or the little spoon?

Psalm: Neither. I don't sleep on my side. Keva: if i had to pick, big Rokka: either one...I'm not picky Finn: I have never been either. Well, perhaps the little spoon after sharing a bed with Rokka? Han: big spoon!!!!! Cimmorro: big

Q - do you like to dance?

Keva: (shrugs) it can be fun with friends Psalm: Yes. Rokka: yeah!! boogie woogie oogie Finn: Very much so! Cimmorro: yeap!!

Q - if you could have any animal or beast as a pet without any harm to you or those around you, what would you have?

Rokka: bunnies are cute hehe Han: i would have a giant dragon or chimera or some thing badass like that Finn: A dragon indeed sounds "badass". But isn't it too big?... Cimmorro: both are huge and sound tedious to upkeep nonetheless. i’m perfectly happy with Jasper.

Q - if you were to change your hairstyle, what would you do?

Han: i wonder what it would be like if i cut all off, but... Keva: cut it short again i guess Psalm: I'd grow it out. Rokka: *looks at his whole body* much to think about Finn: I'd want to cut it short again. But at the moment I'm trying to grow it out. Cimmorro: i once considered growing mine out a bit just to try, but i usually trim my hair during the summer so it never came to be. i feel like it’d be a hassle to do it now and i’ve lost interest.

Q - Hey! What do you guys think of the death penalty?

Keva: i don't Want to think abt the death penalty Rokka: same here Finn: Sir this is a fuckhouse.

Q - have you all ever heard a voice in your head?

Rokka: the one that sounds like me? yeah Psalm: No. Finn: *blinks Yes in morse code*

Q - boobs or butts?

Psalm: Who would ask this...? *He chuckles and doesn't answer.* Rokka: Do.....Do we really have to answer this? *sweating* Finn: There's only one correct choice. Han: this question is foolish. both are great.

Q - if you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

Plum: ..................................... Psalm: The ability to go back in time would be useful. Plum: the ability to go back in time would be useful Rokka: stop making me choose one thing i can't choose. Finn: I want to dual wield blades. Cimmorro: teleportation powers perhaps...

Q - if you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30 year old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

Psalm: What an odd question... I'd rather keep my mind. I'm curious how a 90-year old me would look. Rokka: This is hard Finn: *laughs in vampire* Han: body Cimmorro: body

Q - tell me about the first crush you remember having

Psalm: No. (offscreen there is a screech of a chair. keva is leaving) Rokka: Ummm...... Finn: (Finn "Hm"s) Did anyone else crush on characters from the books they've read? For me it was a swordsman, in any case. Han: (whispers to the asker) whats a crush?? Cimmorro: [tilting head at han and shaking his head] ...yeah, finn. wee jas.

Q - what’s your favourite thing about someone you admire?

Rokka: she's really tall! and strong! I admire her strengths! she's really nice!!! She's the best. Keva: that everything would be okay if they were around. or it felt like that at least Psalm: He was more friendly than me, and I envied how easily he could make friends when we were younger. Finn: He stands his ground against anyone. Han: they are so easy going and kind hearted, even when i am not to them. Cimmorro: just about everything? especially that they seem to never break under pressure and are completely capable of making decisions with swiftness and grace...

Q - would you like to be famous? in what way?

Psalm: Absolutely not. Keva: no Rokka: I don't think I have the skills to go that far. Finn: I don't aspire much fame but some renown as a swordsman seems worthwhile. Cimmorro: gaining a good enough reputation to be an influencer… i believe it would be important for the church, so i wouldn’t refuse it.

Q - rokka how does it feel to be the funniest person in existence

Rokka: I don't know how it feels because I just found out I am funny...? How?

Q - rokka i have on good authority that cole wants to play rugby with you what’s your response

Rokka: YEAHHHH LETS GOOOOOO maybe then we can become true friends through the bonds of rugby!!!!!

Q - rokka what do you think about shirts

Rokka: They're alright I guess? Don't really see the point of it though

Q - Plum, would you like to shop with me one day? I love your fashion sense. -Finn

Plum: I WOULD LOVE TO. WHEN THIS SHIT IS OVER THEN ALSO THANK YOU

Q - plum are your teeth crooked or did you lose a tooth

Plum: they're crooked

Q - cole what do you think about vinny as a boss

Cole: ooooh incredible ! The fact that i get to work under a wizard of his skills as an apprentice still bowls me over, I've learned so much and i haven't even been here all that long. I know he doesn't seem to like the Accord much but being part of their group is no joke, he musta' had some cool projects back in the day. He doesn't seem to mind when i break things either, he's a real swell guy like that, nothing like my last boss [nervous laughter]

Q - when is the last time you got a manipedi

Rokka: got a what? Cimmorro: i do my own! as often as needed!

Q - what is it like having a tail

Rokka: Idk? ok? but what's it like NOT having a tail though? :thonk: Psalm: ...Normal. This is the norm for me, so I have no clue how to answer this in a way that would be satisfactory to someone that doesn't have one. Like with any part of the body, I don't really think about it unless I remember it's there. I guess the one thing is that I don't like having holes in my clothes, so everything I wear is low waisted. Finn: I wasn't aware everything you wear is low waisted, much less why. Psalm: I always wear a waist sash, but next time I can go without if you're curious. Cimmorro: i used to trip over my own tail a lot when i was a kid. it was rather long for my size at the time hehe

Q - you’re right rokka what is it like Not having a tail

Rokka: You Tell Me Keva: they weren't asking you

Q - rokka how do you maintain your fur

Rokka: Check out my youtube channel please like and subscribe! -> [link to fur answer above]

Q - Keva what is the way to your heart? I'm asking for a friend...

Keva: tell your friend to find smth better to do

Q - finn your hair is so shiny what’s your secret

Finn, visibly confused: There is no secret to my haircare. I simply do what everyone else does, no? Personally I use lye soap and rosewater. Perhaps you ought to try a different oil or mixture from your usual.

Q - finn what do you think about your uncle’s growing fanclub? what does he think abt it?

Finn: His "fanclub"? Well, it is true people take a liking to my uncle rather quickly, but I've yet to see him reciprocate any such affections. If this "club" is anything official I would like to be its president though, to guide others of course. I may find someone who could get along with him, he really ought to settle down one of these days!

Q - finn can you tell us a little bit about your cousins?

Finn: Hmm... from the beginning they have been more outgoing than me, I must admit I am a bit envious of that. But the Vengaboys have brought out a lot in me already, I think.

Q - hey finn how tall are your heels

Finn: 3 inches. But I have taller ones for balls and the like.

Q - orin what would it take for you to share an embarrassing story about keva

Orin: hmmmm id probably wait until she left the room first....

Q - vinny how bad is your eyesight without glasses

Vinny: bad enough that id fall down the stairs in my own store if i lost em’ [anime sweatdrop] its why they have that handy string attached to them now, and well also because the cats like to bat at my face sometimes...

Q - ezra and cole have you ever had to help vinny find his glasses. let me clarify i know he has that thing where his glasses can hang from his neck but have you ever had to help vinny find his glasses bc he lost them anyways

Ezra: never, but he didn't always have the string, he told me he slapped it on because he had that exact problem. Cole: I've only ever seen em' with that string so he’s never really lost em'... though one time he broke them and i had to help him around the store for a week until a friend of his could fix them, its the grumpiest ive ever seen him [ she makes a face like this :y and laughs ]

Q - ezra i'm serious will you please let me buy you a new coat

Ezra: [he looks down confused at his clothes] ....

Q - ezra why won’t you get a new coat

Ezra: ...... do i need a new coat...? *Psalm laughs a little in the bg.*

Q - can you tell us more about your family han?

Han: ha ha hA HA HA HA HA HA HA. no. i want avoid all thought about them.

Q - han which muscle group is your favourite to flex

Han: (sits like the thinker for a long time in contemplative silence) for me, legs and thighs feel most strong. but others like when i flex arms 💪

Q - han you are very cool don’t let anyone tell you otherwise also i love you

Han: i am cool, thank you mystery stranger, also wH--

Q - han do you want to build a snowman

Han: you know, we used to play game where we would roll each other in wheel, down mountain, into snowmen, and who hits most win... fun times. i do want to build snowman again, yes :)

Q - which of you know how to tell direction from the stars

Han: i know ! 😊 (quieter) but only little bit... Cimmorro: ...y’know, someone once tried to teach me how to do this but i’ve fallen asleep while we were talking. [has guilt written all over his face]

Q - han what is your favourite way to wear your hair

Han: ah...my sibling did this complicated braid on me, before... it look very thin, like basket weaving...sad, never learned how they do it (han looks a bit melancholic)

Q - what do you value most in friendship?

Psalm: I should buy a full pitcher of beer at the next tavern, and for every question about friendship we receive just take a long sip from it. Rokka: the bond! loyalty! respect! this is more than one! oh well! Finn: The ability to confide without fearing loss or judgement. Keva: trust Han: oh, i agree with answer from finn.

Q - han, cole, and rokka how did you get so swole

Cole: [she taps her forehead] step one...mental fortitude.... Han: (scoffs) have someone on your ass since you have memory Rokka: (taps his biceps) determination!

Q - May I inquire where you've picked up that rodent from Keva? -Finn

Keva: while traveling

Q - psalm how long have you kept a journal

Psalm: Not very. I just started it. Helps to keep my thoughts organised, and having just reached Shorewater I figured it would be worth chronicling what I got up to.

Q - psalm you wear a lot of black nail polish but do you have any other colors? what are your favourites?

Psalm: I'm not fond of bright colours (for my nails at least), so black is my favourite. I've never really tried out anything else, but maybe I should, just for a change of pace.

Q - do you guys like piercings ?

Keva: do i like having them or do i like when other people have them what are you asking Rokka: (points at keva) what she said Psalm: Yes, I do have them after all.

Q - aaaaalright heres a better question then. would you prefer for your partner to have piercings or not? do you find it attractive?

Psalm: Oh I see. I guess they are attractive aren't they? (lol) Rokka: if they like them then I like them! They can wear whatever they want! I don't really have a preference for it. Finn: As long as it is nothing obscene, I will accept it. It can have its charm, I admit. Keva: i don't really care. i guess? Han: its so cool!! i wanted some myself but aah.. my tribe was very against that thing Cimmorro: yeah and yup.

Q - hey tieflings what’s horn maintenance like for you

Psalm: Not unlike er-, "body maintenance". At least in my case I don't do anything particularly special. Cimmorro: mine are too small to have any need for maintenance. i consider it a lucky thing since it’s less things to worry about.

Q - Psalm, who is your favourite character in GBF? -Finn

Psalm: I like Vania. I have to start playing water now because of her new alt unfortunately but... can't be helped. Finn: Haha, I like that answer. Good luck with your water! Psalm: Oh? I'm glad I passed. And thank you.

Q - would you ever wear matching couple things with your significant other

Finn: As long as it is fashionably, gladly.... That sounds like a very sweet idea, dear reader. Rokka: yeah!! I think it's cute hehe Psalm: That depends on the thing. Keva: ^ Cimmorro: absolutely

Q - hi um this question is for psalm how do you keep your hooves warm in the winter? do you have socks? leg warmers?

Psalm: That's an interesting question. While I'm not that well versed in the specifics of tiefling anatomy, I do know that keeping warm isn't really an issue for me whenever it gets cold, so I don't typically wear anything like socks.

Q - rokka do you have a favourite meat dish?

Rokka: hmm...anything roasted on a stick? But that's a stick not dish...meat buns!

Q - hey psalm han and plum your brows are amazing what salon do you go to

Han: sah lon? i dont know what that but these run in family Psalm: These are how they are naturally. I have better things to do with my own time than fuss about my appearance too much.

Q - what are your thoughts on the institution of marriage

Psalm: My parents are married and seem to like each other enough, so I suppose it's not so bad. Finn: I think it is merely a matter of who you choose to spend your life with, not marriage itself. So, I would like to be wed happily. Han: (whispers to the asker) whats marriage???? Cimmorro: [tilts head and squints a bit at han again rn]

Q - keva, do you think youll ever learn how to read? if yes, what kind of books would you want to read ?

Keva: (gaze falls to the table at the first question but at the second question she looks up and her eyes slightly squint questioningly at you) idk what kinda books there are bc i can’t read Psalm: Would you like some recommendations? I can read them to you if you want. Keva: (is getting visibly pink) Psalm: ....Is that a no?

Q - for every one, what's the way to your heart??

Finn: Hmm... you must be worthy as my rival! (he gives his rapier a test swing) That is for sure. But should you lack a passion for swordsmanship, please do your best to entertain me at a ball, at the very least. Rokka: um...? (Scratches his head nervously) I'm not sure how to answer this haha....just....please love me??? *shy* Psalm: I've never thought about it. I just like who I like. Cimmorro: fuck around and find out!

Q - do you own any porn? what kind

Han: asker, are you sure you dont just want directions to brothel? Rokka: what's a porn and how do you own one? What kinds are there? Psalm: "What's a porn" he says... Don't worry too much about it Rokka. Cimmorro: the only porn you all should be reading is the white book

Q - would you or would you not try roller skates (shoes with wheels on them)?

Finn: Shoes with wheels on them? That sounds most absurd... and yet... I must inform my uncle of this. Where does one acquire such shoes... ? Rokka: (tries to picture this in his head for too long the interviewer moves on) 🤔 Psalm: This sounds like a prime setup for falling on my ass, so no.

Q - hi vengaboys. i’ve been following your adventures since predebut. i’ve been stuck at home bc of a global pandemic and i gotta say it’s really bumming me out. what should i do

Finn: I have plenty experience with staying at home. A lot of people might tell you to hone a skill or indulge in hobbies you have been neglecting and while that can be a productive use of your time, it is easier spoken than done, no? I recommend, if you are allowed, to seek out quiet places without many people around. That way you do not endanger yourself or anyone else in these trying times. Spending time in nature is quite refreshing. Please look forward to our continued performance, dear reader. Psalm: *Is somewhat amazed.* I don't think I can give a better answer than that one. Rokka: wow finn you're so smart

Q - would you ever become a vegetarian if you aren’t already one

Keva: no Rokka: I don't like salad Psalm: Sure. Finn: I would literally die. I know I like to not die, so no.

Q - To psalm and finn, what’s your thoughts on that belial guy?

Psalm: *coughs into his sleeve* Finn: *does the same*

Q - how do you like to celebrate birthdays

Finn: I think throwing a ball can be quite fun, but I think spending it intimately is far more pleasurable. I am not so vain as to demand a ball each time.

Q - do you have people waiting for you wherever you call home? if you can share, who?

Finn: My family. I can't wait to speak to my cousins again and tell them about this job, shall it go well. Psalm: I'm not sure if "waiting" is the word I'd use, but yes. Cimmorro: i can’t imagine any of those people not wanting my presence again

Q - do you like hugs

Finn: ... If they come from the right people, then yes, certainly. Rokka: oh! yes, I like hugging Psalm: What Finn said. I like them about as much as the average person, although I have a friend that mocks me for not being particularly good at giving them, whatever that means. (How can you be bad at hugging...?) Finn: Perhaps your posture is stiff, Psalm? It can make the hug feel rather "cold", so to speak. Psalm: That's what he said... (He looks lost in thought.) Rokka: psalm if you need practice hugging I am here (stands there with open arms) Finn: Consciously think about your movement. Are you actually bending your torso, properly using your arms? Try with Rokka. Keva: (was about to answer but is now biting her lip to keep from laughing at rokka and finn coaching psalm on hugging) Han: (faces away from this spectacle and slaps a hand over her mouth to not break out laughing too) Psalm: There's a lot more that goes into hugging than I initially thought.

Q - do you prefer hot weather or cold?

Keva: hot Han: cold!! honestly its too hot in shorewater... i never thought i would miss snow Rokka: more warm than hot......but if i had to choose between the two then it would be cold Finn: I've been preferring cold weather as of late. Psalm: Hot. Cimmorro: personally i’m more of an in between guy but if i’ve no choice then i’d say cold.

Q - when was the last time you went on a date

Finn: I'd like to go on one in the first place :cryingcat: Rokka: I wanna go on one too!! Finn: ... Looks like we both have something to gain here. I jest of course. Psalm: *racking his brain* Can't remember. Cimmorro: a couple or so years ago.

Q - Hello Vengaboys! We have not had the pleasure of meeting but I am an old friend of Finnian's. He tells me about your travels in his letters and I quite look forward to reading them. Your time in Shorewater sounds like it has been quite the whirlwind! I am writing because I have always known Finnian to be a kind and gentle boy who worries about others often, and I want to be sure he is as okay as he says he is. How is he really? Please treat him well, and please do not tell him I wrote! I imagine he would be quite beside himself with embarrassment if he found out. Sincerely yours, Sagessa P.S. I do hope we get to meet one day! May Pelor protect you until and long after then.

Rokka: Hello sagessa!! Nice to, uh, read you! I didn't know he had a friend! Yes...shorewater has been super crazzzzy. Kind of scary actually...don't come here. (Lol) you're right he is kind and well so far! He's nice to me and I like him! We shared a bed and it was nice. Also, don't worry my lips are sealed! Promise! Sincerely, Rokka. P.s. I hope to meet you soon! (saying this all outloud)

Q - Who taught you all how to fight? Or to hone in on a specific skill?

Psalm: I've been trying to figure that out myself. Rokka: my father Finn: *side eyes psalm* I took an interest in swordsmanship early. I've had an instructor and participated in many tournaments. Your opponents are your most valuable teachers. Han: ...the whole tribe, really. Keva: i learned on my own at first. Cimmorro: good ol’ parents gyahaha

Q - do any of you know how to give good massages

Psalm: I know, but whether or not they're "good" remains to be seen. Cimmorro: we were certainly taught basic massage techniques but i don’t really have the strength for it [laughs wryly]

Q - what are your thoughts and feelings about your country or hometown?

Psalm: I'll save time and just say that they're mostly positive. Finn: My hometown is okay. Could be better. :/ Cimmorro: i like my hometown. i can’t imagine settling down anywhere else at the moment.

Q - do you like bugs

Rokka: yeah, they're neat! Lady bugs were my favourite when I was young. Keva: as long as they're not biting me or trying to get at my food, they're fine Psalm: No, but I'm not scared of them either or anything silly like that. Finn: As a child I was less aversive to them but I must admit I find them most unpleasant and avoid all contact. Cimmorro: yeah!

Q - would you confess to your love interest first

Rokka: idk maybe? I've never been in this situation before do I'm not sure...👉👈 Psalm: It depends. No sense in keeping some things hidden though. Finn: If there is no other way, yes. Cimmorro: sure. beating around the bush feels like a waste of time really.

Q - Do any of you have any second given names?

Finn: Yes, actually. My second name is Oswald. Han: (scoffs) no. threw it out.

Q - does your chain hang low does it bobble to the floor can you tie it in a knot can you tie in a bow can you throw it o’er your shoulder like a smth smth smth does your chain hang low

Finn: Psalm, do you recognize this writing ? Psalm: It...sounds vaguely familiar, but as I'm not from around here I'm not too sure.

Q - have you ever been to or in a wedding party? do you like going to weddings?

Psalm: I've been to my parents' wedding, but aside from that not really. I do like parties. Wedding parties seem like fun. Cimmorro: i ordain weddings... or, well, i used to. the parties are fun, but overseeing the ceremony itself is something i’d rather avoid.

Q - have you ever been somewhere haunted?

Psalm: I would hope not. Cimmorro: once or twice? strangely fun? i’d recommend it :)

Q - have you ever held a baby

Psalm: Probably? What kind of question is this? Han: ..yeah. Cimmorro: yeah! it was practically my job back then haha

Q - what would be an invention you’d really like to see to make life easier

Psalm: Airships were already invented, so I'm out of ideas. Cimmorro: a portable communication device more efficient than a sending stone sounds nice

Q - plum do you miss your sister?

Plum: yeah. who the hell are you

Q - keva what's your favourite hairstyle?

Keva: there’s up and there’s down idk how to do anything else Finn: You don't know how to do anything else? If you are ever interested I'd be happy to assist you in finding something to your liking. And to teach, shall you wish it. Keva: first psalm now you what is going on Psalm: It's an admirable trait for sure :-). Finn: You could simply stand to make more of yourself, Keva. Keva: you're just making fun of me now Finn: Absolutely not. But let's just say you're not going to impress anyone like this. Keva: who is there to-- i'm not Trying to impr-- okay (she is leaving) Finn laughs quietly to himself as she leaves Psalm: Hmm.. if I ever grow my hair out I'll be sure to come to you Finn. Finn: Gladly.

Q - i heard thru the town crier that you all were not in fact the ones who ruined elfonsent spell but how do i know i can trust you

Psalm: We didn't ruin the ball. Just take the kings' word for it I guess

Q - do you like to draw

Finn: I do not recall ever trying my hand at it. I've no time for such things. Plum: sometimes Cimmorro: sure.

Q - would you get a tattoo? what and where would it be?

Rokka: What if 😳 I already 😳 have a tattoo😳 ? 😳 On my back 😳 Plum: *confused thinking about all the fur... did they shave him first and then tattoo him? the fuck would be the point if the fur just grows back??* Han: i only have all this birthmark... and if anything, i would like to get rid of them. Cimmorro: i already have one but maybe i’d get a few more 🤔

Q - when you’re not feelin so hot what do you do to cheer yourself up?

Rokka: roaming or good company is always nice...but it hasn't been that easy to have these days. Keva: find somewhere up high Psalm: Not sure. I have the tendency to avoid problems. Plum: drink, i think? pretty sure i drink Han: go as far into a forest as i can Cimmorro: drink

Q - have any of you had a job before this? i know han worked at the swallow’s perch but what about the rest of you? what was the job if you can share?

Psalm: I'm in my early twenties. I think there'd be something wrong if I didn't have some line of work before this. (He ignores the rest of the question.) Plum: i work for an alchemist over in talornia Rokka: check it (starts juggling) Han: hey im still working there ;-; Cimmorro: temple work. i help oversee almost everything.

Q - do any of you know how to play instruments?

Psalm: I definitely can't. Keva: sort of, not really Cimmorro: nah... though i was interested in learning one

Q - any favourite scary stories?

Psalm: I'm pretty ambivalent about the horror genre. Not my thing. Finn: That's a shame. I would've asked you for a recommendation Psalm.

#QA #QARokka #QAKeva #QAHan #QAFinn #QAPlum #QAPsalm #QAVinny #QAEzra #QACole #QACimmorro #chip creates a whole new series of tags

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iputastickeronmycarrier · 4 years ago

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『𝕊𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕐𝕠𝕦』:| chapter 2: 𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 |

Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 3.5k

From busking on the streets to serenades in bars, Y/N has watched them all. A journalist by trade, she spends her most recent nights writing in her journal in the glow of neon signs in hidden places as she scours the city for upcoming artists for her new editorial. The hunt for local artists leads her to the dimmed lighting of a bar where she meets Jeon Jungkook, an alluring singer with a voice that drips with equals amounts of anguish and innocent wonder. In the hushed corners of busy rooms and under cascading gradients of moonlight, Y/N comes back every Tuesday and Friday to see him perform where she discover there may be a more important story unfolding between them that's worth following.

-continuing series-

Follow me on Wattpad

xoxo, Gossip Girl

*Namjoon: I stg Y/N...you better NOT be late. I will *not* wait for you again to watch the new My Hero Academia episode[7:12pm]*

*Namjoon: But, also liiikeeee, love you or ~*whuteva*~”[7:12pm]*

*Namjoon: Oh, can you bring home more of those spicy crackers? :)?[7:14pm]

You roll your eyes as you duck in under the doorway of Stamper’s, already a forearm deep in your backpack as you claw-arm for your journal. It’s busier tonight than it was on Tuesday. There is raucous, drinks pouring, booming laughter and the neon sign is particularly prominent as it sporadically emits bright light in blinks.

A group of people your age are leaned against the wall and each other while playing billiards. The pool table is worn down with a tattered green top from use and the cue sticks are scuffed but when you're drunk enough you can’t tell the difference. Thankfully there is still seating which you take advantage of. With a quick nod to the bartender, you wiggle into a booth and scrawl out “Joon crackers” on the first empty page you have.

A gaggle of girls who are clearly on a bachelorette party bar crawl flit around the room with each other, taking pictures.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay,” a girl starts as she gathers all of the members of what you assume is the bridal party in a semi-circle. She struggles to fix her sash that reads “Maid of Dishonour”. “First of all, Seo-Yeon,” she chokes up, “We just love you so much,” she continues while dabbing under her eyes with a wet napkin that 14 seconds ago had a lukewarm beer bottle sitting on it as the girls around burst in a sea of “aww”s and lean against her lovingly. “I can not believe that you are getting married tomorrow,” she struggles to talk as the one you assume to be the bride, Seo-Yeon (as she is wearing a massive sash that reads “Same Penis Forever”) is fanning her face with what appears to be printer paper size cardboard cutout of a man that has the most intense washboard abs you’ve ever seen in a g-string to keep her tears from smearing her makeup.

“You guys,” Seo-Yeon starts with intermittent sniffling, “are my best friends and you know that just because I’m going to be, like, married, or whatever,” she pauses to flaunt her engagement ring by wiggling her fingers and the girls squeal in excitement, “nothing will change! So...let’s get wasted!” she yells as her bridal party screeches in approval and all lift their drinks. One of her bridesmaids, who wears a sash that reads “Shot Queen”, slams her empty glass on the bar table and digs into the cleavage of her dress, yanking out a small stack of hot pink index cards.

“Alright, bitches!” she yells while waving the cards in the air. “Let’s play Porn or Polish! You all know the deal--I read it and you guess if it’s the name of a nail polish OR,” she takes a deep breath and steadies herself, “the name of a porn film.” They giggle in excitement. “So...My Vampire is Buff? Porn or Polish?” she coyly asks while batting her false eyelashes at each of the girls who are all wide eyed and looking around as if searching into the ether for the answer.

“What do you think? Porn or Polish?” Jungkook questions leaning down into your ear as shudders tingle down your spine. “And what does “Joon crackers” mean?” he asks in a half-hearted snicker. You whip your face in the direction of his voice only to be met with a set of doe eyes that are way too close and make the room spin slightly. You frantically try to compose yourself by breaking eyesight.

“Definitely a porno,” you say with a nervous laugh, looking back at him. Jungkook’s eyes darken as his face turns into a smirk.

“How do you know? You've been watching a lot of porn lately?” he jeers. Your eyes roll back so severely you worry you might detach your retinas. Before you can clapback, he bites his lip and continues, “Let me know when you start to see your brain.” You swat at him as he shrugs his shoulders in laughter and recoils. “Can I sit with you?” he sighs, satisfied with his own sense of humor.

“Yikes...Here’s the problem with that,” you playfully respond with a wry smile, “I’m actually here waiting for someone to conduct an interview with me,” you suck your teeth, “and you’re kind of in the way…so...” Jungkook’s hand flies to his chest with splayed fingers feigning astonishment.

“You know it is so crazy you say that because I’m actually here,” he pauses quizzically as if truly confused, “to be interviewed. Wait… are you Y/N?” he asks in faux confusion. Giving up the facade, he exhales through his nose in amusement and sits himself down across from you.

“Oh, we have jokes today I see,” you flatly respond but a smile plays on your features.

“He looks happy today. I can see it in his eyes,” you observe quietly, wishing you could write it down as the only thing on your blank page is still “Joon crackers”.

“Are you performing today?” you inquire, taking in his visage. He runs his hands through his freshly fluffy locks and surveys the bar as he begins to bite at his lip. Your stomach starts to feel like it’s somersaulting when his eyes light up in animation as he meets gaze.

“A nervous habit,” you mentally jot down.

“Later, yeah,” he responds. “But not yet. Stamper will wait for the Porn and Polish Crew over there to depart to their next spot,” he mutters under his breath as his face contorts into a small smile. “In the meantime, do you want to get a drink?” There is a silent, fuzzing whirr in the expanse of you two like static noise. He’s looking at you with a seemingly innocuous smile but you still catch the intense stare he’s burning into your eyes. You stare back owlishly, flitting over the sharpness of his nose and jawline and the softness of his freckled bottom lip. Is he baiting you? What’s his endgame? What do you have to lose?

“Sure!” you nonchalantly respond. He perks up, surprised by your response and starts to scoot out his seat.

“Requests?”

“Surprise me.” With a cocked eyebrow and an impish grin, he saunters away. As soon as he disappears from your line of sight, you slump down into your seat, face starting to flush with nervousness of what’s to come. You don’t drink often and when you do, you’re a very cheap bar date. You only have a few minutes to compose yourself.

“I need a plan, I need a plan, I need a plan,” your brain skitters around, trying to find a single course of action while all of your anxiety is thrusting down on you and every movement makes your muscles rife with inertia. You suck in a deep breath through your nose and exhale out your mouth and repeat the action several times like Joon taught you in your younger days.

You used to suffer from chronic anxiety attacks. On a semi-frequent basis, Namjoon would find you rocking back and forth in your dark closet, head in your hands as you wailed in continuous waves of grief, hot tears running down your face.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Am I going to die? It feels like I’m dying,” you would cry between gasps for air.

“Of course not, Y/N, but it’s okay if you feel that way. I’m telling you it’s not true but where you are in your head is valid. You know this happens and you’re always okay, right?” He would lovingly whisper as he scooped you into his lap. You would sputter and bury your face into his shirt. “Right?” He would reiterate, gently cupping your face and you would shakily nod your head. “Now breathe, Y/N. We’re going to do it together, okay? Breathe in,” he would start and take a deep breath. You struggled to inhale as your chest labored and shook. “Exhale,” he continued while pushing his breath out his mouth. Repetitiously, you slowly could match his breathing as he continued to rock you in his arms, smoothing down your hair. “It’s okay, Y/N, it’s okay.” As your breathing became more even, save a few quiet hiccups and sniffles, he would take your face into his hands, looking into your puffy eyes. “You know I’ve got you, right? I’ve always got you, yeah?” You would nod and lean into his chest as he continued to cradle you. “Always, Always, Always, ” he’d whisper before pecking a kiss on the top of your head.

_______________________________________________________________________

“I hope you like rum and coke,” Jungkook says cautiously, popping back into focus. He hands you the filled highball as if he’s presenting a peace offering. You concede. “By the way...My Vampire is Buff? Definitely a porno. I had the gift of overhearing the bridal party wrap up their escapade,” he chortles. You both look at each other and giggle as the party surges out the doors and onto the streets. Seo-Yeon’s makeshift fan--the sad cardboard cutout of the washboard abbed g-string wearing man-- is left on the floor. “By the way…”he hums as he slides back into the booth across from you, “I told them to leave that cutout for you because you were really interested in taking it home,” he whispers that dissolves into silky laughter and his bunny-esque teeth are revealed in his grin. Your mouth falls gape with a gasp and you reach out to swipe at him. “Kidding!” he cackles with his hands up in innocence as if trying to plead not guilty.

“Whatever,” You hiss but it contains no ire as you smile. A beat of silence fills the expanse between you as you lock eyes. Pulling his lips through his teeth, he exhales in a small laugh.

“What?” you demand.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” he looks at you with wide, attentive eyes. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, now looking away with a sheepish grin and exposing his face profile for you to take in. The angle of his jawline is so sharp he could cut diamonds with it and it tenses with his smile, making your stomach turn. His sloping neck exposes the honey tinted skin hiding underneath his shirt, black of course. The dark, growing baby hairs peer out from what used to be an undercut and they seem flat against his neck in the summer heat that even the bar cannot help anyone escape. It isn’t until after his gaze zeroes back in on yours that you are thrusted back into existence.

“So…” he starts, drawing out the ‘o’, “Did you bring more questions?” His fingers are clasped on the edge of the table, fiddling them on the surface.

“Oh my god, duh. The entire reason I’m even here. Do you even know how to do your job, Y/N?” You internally groan to yourself.

“Yeah! Actually, I have a few,” you say, flipping to another page in your journal with a master list of questions you ask the artists you interview. You precariously flip past the pages that contain to what an untrained eye appears to be professions of what clearly is a crush. Finally, you thumb your way to the right page and open the journal wide.

You skim over the questions. You didn’t always use the same questions for every person, so with one hand holding the drink he ordered (and she’s a strong drink) and one gripping the a pen, you multitasked between sipping and putting stars next to the questions you were going to ask. As you study the sentences, combing over them to make sure they are the ones you are going to ask, you take a moment to surreptitiously peek at Jungkook, who is keenly watching you. He has one elbow resting on the table with his face cupped into it while the middle finger of the other hand traces slow circles around the smooth mouth of his highball. You swallow hard watching his languid movements and double down on looking at your questions.

You cling to the first question you starred. “What’s your music inspiration?” He leans back, swirling his drink in his hand, enrapt in thought.

“Do you want the interview answer or the real answer…” he muses.

“Can I have both?” you coyly suggest, doing what you think might look like batting your eyelashes as you feel the warmth from the drink starting to hit.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ out and looking at you with a cocked eyebrow. You roll your eyes, flitting your hand over the table.

“Okay, next question, then,” you say in a huff. “Do you sing in the shower?” you ask with a chuckle as the end of your pen finds its way pinched between your front teeth. Jungkook’s breath audibly hitches for the slightest moment before he coughs and takes sips of his drink.

“Who doesn’t?” he asks back, arms out.

“Right? That’s exactly what I say!” You enthusiastically reply, hands flailing up to either side of your head..

“Like...you’d have to be a freak, honestly,” he continues. You guffaw at his joke as in the recesses of your mind you become starkly aware that you are teetering on the dangerous ledge of drunk.

“Okay, okay, okay. Real questions,” you assert as you hitch one leg up on the booth and lean against the wall so you can stretch out your legs. “What’s your creative process?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Jungkook’s face goes blank like he was sucked into a vortex. His passive gaze alarms you as you try to self assess if you asked a bad question. The question is the equivalent of lobbing a ball in baseball; it’s always a home run hit. But Jungkook’s face falls, wrought with anguish like he took a heavy blow to the chest. He sighs deeply, looking at you with heavy eyes and just as you are about to skip over the question, Stamper walks up.

“Jk, you ready?” he asks, head nodding to the top of the bar where a small stage is set. Jungkook snaps back to reality, blinks several times as he draws in a deep breath of air, and nods. He wordlessly gets up, giving you a slight glance before walking to the stage.

He takes a seat on the stool, smiling a smile out to the audience that leaves his eyes vacant, lifeless.

“Good evening, everyone,” he says emptily, knowing the audience doesn’t care enough to see through the facade you are witnessing feet from you. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, thank you for being here. I’m actually just singing one song tonight, I hope that’s okay,” he says quietly while adjusting the microphone length to match his height.

The first pangs of the piano keys reverberate through the bar as all other noise vacuums out, leaving only the deep timbres of Jungkook’s voice:

Full of loneliness This garden bloomed Full of thorns I bind myself in this sand castle

The notes hit you like a freight train, ripping you back into sobriety. You can’t help but stare, resting your head on your arms on the table and watching him. He isn’t looking at anyone and you can’t see him, like him, Jungkook. His physical form is singing into the audience but it’s like he is absent.

Where did you go, Jungkook?” you listlessly whisper to yourself, rocked by the strife in front of you. The juxtaposition of the person who is on the stage singing and the boy who just moments ago was bubbling with laughter across from you is gut wrenching. You see a deep rooted wound rising out of Jungkook’s frame and out through his voice. Eyes closed and holding his body together, he painfully echoes out:

Maybe back then A little Just this much If I had the courage to stand before you Would everything be different now I'm crying That’s disappeared That’s fallen Left alone in this sandcastle Looking at this broken mask

He heaves his chest, eyes fully open as the words leave his lips:

And I still want you

The note draws out over the hushed crowd. Jungkook takes a breath and looks into the crowd. He bows his head. “Thank you, thank you so much. I hope to see you all next week,” he says with a small smile that still leaves his eyes void of any signs of life. He steps off the stage, walking right past you and out into the empty street. You scramble after him, rustling things back into your backpack. You give Stamper a look and he waves you on, knowing you will pay for the drinks the next time you see him.

As you stumble onto the street, you whip your head around looking for Jungkook. You catch his form, already a block away, headown and slouched over with his hands in his pockets.

“Jungkook, wait!” You breathlessly call after him. He keeps walking. “What happened?” you try to keep pace with his strides. “Can you talk to me,” you ask in desperation, “please?”

He stops in his tracks, as if he’s waiting for you to catch up. When you reach him you stand in front of his form; he’s shaking and breathing ragged breaths with wild, red rimmed eyes that threaten to swallow you whole if you get too close..

“My creative process?” he chokes out. “My creative process is I can’t stop getting my heart broken,” he blurts out. “I can’t stop myself from creating my own pain,” he stutters. “I’m just a chasm; ravaged,” he yells, arms thrusting out into the air. “And this is the only thing I’m good for. This is the only thing I can do so people actually see me,” he whimpers, swaying to the side of a building as he crumples to his knees, burying his face in his hand and starts heaving deep sobs. It’s just you two, on the empty astoundingly empty street. His tears drown out the whirr of the surrounding neon signs easily.

“How is this the same Jungkook?” you wordlessly ask yourself, with eyes wide starting to sting with small tears.

You recognize this behavior. You recognize this image and silently pray you only do it as well as Namjoon. Your backpack drops to the ground with a thud as you slowly walk to Jungkook’s side and crouch to his level. His shoulders are violently shaking as the wails continue to echo.

“Jungkook? Can I touch you? Do I have your permission?” you whisper, feeling pricks on your skin as you wait with trepidation, unsure of what he will say.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” he sputters and continues to rock himself. Your heart contorts and you wipe the corners of your eyes with the back of your hands because you are looking at a reflection of yourself. The way his posture hunches and hyperventilates while tears spill from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks is a feeling you know well.

“We’re going to breathe. I’m not going to touch you but we’re going to breathe together. I know that where you are is such a painful place. I can see you’re in the chasm you talked about and it’s dark. I know what it feels like to be lost in that anguish. It’s paralyzing,” you say in a hushed tone laden with empathy. “But we’re still going to try to breathe. It’s going to be okay because I’ve got you, okay? We’re going to inhale,” you take in a big, deliberately slow breath. “And exhale,” you breathe out through your mouth. He gurgles as he tries to fill his lungs with oxygen which exacerbates his tremors and tears through his chest. “Try again, breathe, Jungkook,” you inhale and hear the smallest intake of breath. “Out through your mouth,” you repeat. He shakily exhales and your heart picks up. “Holy shit, is this working?” you question. “Yes, Jungkook, again,” you lead repetitively as his wails dissolve into quiet hiccups. He finally lifts his head up, eyes bloodshot and face misted from tears. Even in the throes of his pain he is unbelievably beautiful. He rubs the remaining wetness from his eyes and lets out a sigh that allows the remainder of his anxiety to escape his body. He props himself up on his knees and drags his hands through his hair before leaning back to rest against the brick building. “Sorry,” he sniffs, face laden with shame. Your heartstrings tighten to the point of bursting. You want to take him into your arms, cradling his head against your chest, and help carry his heart that feels so heavy. You feel entrenched in his aura with no desire to escape the waves he emits that magnetize you to him. You want to say that he doesn’t need to suffer alone and that shame thrives and festers in the shadows when it can’t be seen by the world and you want to bear witness to all of his facets. You want to take his soft face in your hands and fervently press your lips upon his.

But you don’t.

“It’s okay,” you sigh with a simple smile. “Always, always, always.”

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not-just-any-fangirl · 8 years ago

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Days of Summer CH 3

A/N; Gasp! What do you mean this has a constant update schedule? If you like that, go wish @hannah-nobody good luck on her assignments!

Here’s the updated playlist!

Summer has arrived, and with it the start of the two month long music camp; Fairy Tail! Full of new songs, friends, and adventures, the campers learn things they never knew about themselves and one another. And just how easy it is to sneak booze and a full sized karaoke machine out into the middle of the woods.

Camp Rock!AU

Pairing: Nalu, Gajevy, Gruvia, others mentioned; Fairy Tail

Words: 6100

Rating: T

Parts: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven

Chapter Three: All The Boys

Closer now...

And closer still…

Then it’s closer to her

‘Til she knows you’re there

Lucy leaned against the wooden countertop attached to the wall, trying to look around inconspicuously as Cana poured a quarter of a bottle of inappropriate liquid into her half full bottle of orange juice, swirling the contents until she was satisfied. Tucking the thin flask back into the pocket of her brown khakis the brunette gave Lucy a playful wink, Lucy rolling her eyes and shoving away the outstretched bottle Cana offered her. She didn’t feel like risking getting kicked out of camp on the first day. She looked around the room much more relaxed now, taking in the long rows of clear stained wooden tables and high domed ceilings, all designed for excellent acoustics within the large space.

One never knew when or where an impromptu sing-a-long or rap battle could happen at Fairy Tail.

The single door beside the canteen was pulled open suddenly, the unexpected noise drawing Lucy’s attention. Cana had started walking over to where Juvia and Levy sat already, abandoning Lucy as she stared dreamily at the large glass windows on the East and West sides of the building. Lucy’s curiosity was piqued when she watched Gray and Loke enter, both agitated and with a growing tension forming between the two guys. She started to walk towards them to greet them, but her brow furrowed as she noticed the two had stopped walking just inside the door and were talking in a conspiratorial hush. Were they arguing? Loke was the first to notice Lucy’s approach, and immediately ended whatever fight he had been having with Gray, large smile forced and swagger exaggerated as he walked towards Lucy.

“My Sunshine!” he purred as he slung his arm around Lucy’s shoulder, “Seeing you always eases my soul, as though you are the brightest star and I am but a traveler lost at sea.”

Lucy shrugged off his arm with an eyeroll, snorting audibly at Loke’s dramatic declaration. “Why don’t you save that for a girl it might actually work on, that one was pretty good.” Lucy teased, any annoyance she might have felt at his statement smoothed over by her good mood carried over from meeting her cabin mates.

“Not as pretty as you, babe.” Loke shot back, lips curling in a suggestive smile and face leaning in towards hers. Lucy planted a hand firmly on the side of his face, smushing his cheek and lips as she shoved him away.

“Hey Gray.” Lucy greeted as the raven haired boy finally strolled towards where Lucy and Loke stood. He grunted in reply, and Lucy raised an eyebrow as she looked over him. “Forgot something?” she asked innocently, smirking at his annoyed expression. She knew him too well, and she knew that was his I-feel-better-but-don’t-want-to-show-it-because-I-never-showed-I-was-upset-in-the-first-place grimace. Stupid emo boy.

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically, bumping her shoulder and giving her a small grin as he passed her to walk in the direction that Cana was waving. Lucy’s eyes lit up and she lifted a finger beside her head as she spoke.

“Oh that’s right!” she chirped, “We have some new friends I want you guys to meet!”

She grabbed Loke and Gray’s wrists, dragging them behind her as she walked quickly to the table where her friends sat. Cana was harassing a bright red Juvia, Levy snickering behind her hand as she watched her cabin mates’ antics.

“Guys, meet Juvia and Levy! Girls, this is Loke,” Lucy said, releasing her friend’s wrist and motioning at him with her hand, “and this is Gray.” Lucy yanked on Gray’s wrist so he moved from his half hidden spot behind her shoulder to be in full view of the group of girls.

“Definitely Pete meets Edward.” Levy said as she looked over Gray, sending Cana and Lucy into a loud fit of snorts and laughter, even Juvia tittering behind a pale hand before she collected herself with a delicate cough. Loke shot them an amused glance while Gray was torn between glaring at Lucy and fighting back a light blush.

“I’m sure Juvia wouldn’t mind if Gray got that spread in Rolling Stone.” Cana drawled, sending the others into another round of giggles, although Juvia’s laugh sounded a little confused. A musical fanatic probably wouldn’t understand such a pre-teen ‘bad boy’ reference.

“Pete meets… hey, do you mean Pete Wentz?” Gray asked in confusion before a spark lit behind his eyes, “Wait, are you talking about ‘The Fabulous Life And Secret Torment’ interview? In Rolling Stone?”

“Erm.” Levy gaped, but it was too late. Gray was spiraling back into middle school. His former self was taking over.

“Issue 1012,” Gray continued, eyes wide in wonder as he looked to a fonder past. A past which featured a heavy use of eyeliner. “March 2007. I waited in line for fifteen minutes at the corner store just to buy it. Classic. You know that interview happened like a day before the release of Infinity On High? Man, iconic.”

The group stared at him in stunned silence as Gray signed to himself, nodding as if he’d wrote the article himself.

“Juvia thought it was the MCR Gray yearned to be a part of.” Juvia frowned in confusion.

“Oh sweetie, if their songs titles have more words than the number of years their fans have lived then he’s fantasized about being with them.” Cana soothed, patting Juvia’s head, the girl in turn nodding in serious understanding.

“But sadly it isn’t 2007 anymore, so Gray has to find someone else who understand the consequences of being deeply misunderstood.” Loke smirked before turning his attention to Juvia, “Say, how good are you with eyeliner?“

Gray turned a vibrant shade of pink, gritting his teeth to keep from punching Loke at Lucy’s pointed look.

“I can do my own eyeliner, thank you very much.” He ground out.

The group erupted into laughter. Nearby tables cast them concerned looks.

“Wait! No! That’s not what I-” Gray stammered.

“Juvia thinks it is impressive that Gray is so skilled with make-up,” Juvia’s voice cut through the laughter, “Juvia wishes she had Gray’s skill. She can never get the wings even.”

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be happy to teach ya Juvy.” Cana snickered as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Juvia’s face brightened suddenly, Lucy following her gaze and looking in the direction she was waving at, her jaw dropping as she realized who their sweet and innocent friend was drawing towards them. A tall boy who looked like he was already in his third year of university stalked towards them, long black hair wild and intimidating. Well, all of him was intimidating. He was well over 6 foot, maybe pushing 6 and a half, and was barely fitting in his tight black tank top, matched with torn and abused jeans and combat boots. His face was littered with eyebrow and nose piercings, his ears glinting silver when his dark hair shifted around them.

Lucy supposed he could be handsome if it weren't for the fact that his scowl could make flowers die.

He stopped at the edge of the table, eyes shooting to Gray and Loke with mild disgust before he looked at Juvia. “Really, your first time makin’ friends and these idiots are the ‘chosen ones’?”

Juvia pouted at his bored voice, Lucy balking at the deepness and smoothness of it. “Juvia thinks Gajie is being too rude to her new friends.” Juvia chastised, standing from her spot on the bench seat and walking towards her friend, her arms looping around his heavily muscled one so it was crushed to her chest. Lucy tensed as she waited for the boy to jerk his arm back from Juvia. Instead he rolled his eyes, his scowl softening to a grimace when he looked down at her.

“How many times do I hafta tell ya not to call me that?” He questioned dryly, something like amusement or fondness growing in his red eyes as Juvia looked up at him, eyebrows knit as she thought.

“Gajie, Juvia was wondering if you still travelled with your emergency eyeliner?” She ignored his previous question, blinking up at him innocently. ‘Gajie’ spit out a sharp squawk, cheeks turning a soft pink and eyes glaring down at Juvia. He left his arm in her hold still, though.

“I haven’t in years, Rain Woman. And the name’s Gajeel.” he grumbled, Juvia sighing deeply and looking down.

“Now Juvia will be unable to learn Gray’s amazing skills.”

“Oi!” Gajeel barked, turning a heated glare on Gray as he shifted his arm -and Juvia- closer to him protectively. “The fuck is Juvia goin’ on about, Stripper?” he asked menacingly, Gray and Loke swallowing sharply under his deathly look before Gray replaced his mask of indifference and sneered at the other boy.

“Nothing, ‘Gajie’.” He mocked, Lucy looking between the two in confusion.

“Call me that again and you’d best be sleepin’ with one eye open for the next two months.” he warned in a low voice. Lucy looked at Cana as she became even more confused, Cana shrugging her shoulders as well.

“Does Gajie know Gray?” Juvia questioned, unaffected by the dangerous aura radiating off of the boy whose arm she was hugging. “Why didn’t he tell Juvia he was friends with the MCR models.” She pouted, her eyes sparking as Gray choked. “Or did you two meet in the ‘pit’ Gajie is always texting Juvia about?”

Gajeel sighed heavily and removed one hand from where it was shoved in his pocket, fingerless studded glove resting on top of Juvia’s head as he patted her hair. “No, Waterworks, I’m sharing a cabin with Dumb and Dumber here, and my idiot cousin.” He explained bluntly.

“You’re Dumber.” Loke interjected, looking at Gray flatly. Gajeel shot Loke a look, who just raised his hands and slipped into a spot beside Cana. Everyone else settled into the benches so Gajeel was left at the front of the table with Juvia clinging to him. He tensed suddenly when he realized everyone was staring at him, Lucy’s skilled eyes -from having to decipher Gray’s basically monotonous facial expressions- picking up on the tightness around his lips and shoulders. She smiled at him comfortingly, Gajeel blinking blankly at her. Lucy’s smile waned until he looked away, the pink tips of his ears showing through his black mane of hair.

“Yer both morons.” Gajeel frowned, recognition flashing in his eyes when Juvia led him to the bench seat beside Levy, who sat at the end of her side of the table. The girl was pointedly stabbing at a piece of lettuce and ignoring the looming boy beside her. Lucy’s eyes widened as she watched Gajeel’s face crack into a large smirk when he leaned into Levy’s personal space. “Almost didn’ see ya there Shrimp.” he teased, Juvia clapping her hands delightedly on the other side of Gajeel.

Levy looked coolly out of the corner of her eye at Gajeel, whose smirk widened more to reveal pointed canines. Until Levy’s fork somehow found it’s way into his hand. “Oops.” Levy said with false apology, Gajeel rubbing his hand with a wry and impressed glint in his eyes.

The group fell into easy chatter, Loke hitting on Levy and Juvia and failing hard, Juvia staring at Gray in awe before looking away just as Gray looked at her with hidden curiosity, Gajeel remarking on Levy’s tiny size just for the blue haired girl to hurt him in some ‘accidental’ fashion. Lucy couldn't help but beam as she watched her friends, new and old blending seamlessly as they picked at the food on the table.

“Decided not to go sulk by the river like a pussy?” Gajeel asked suddenly, grinning over Lucy’s shoulder where an unamused snort sounded.

“Fev’s string broke as I was walking over. Got your text and decided food wouldn't be a shitty substitute.” Lucy looked over her shoulder at the boy who was talking, recognizing him as the stranger from before. His dark beanie still covered his hair, green eyes twinkling with mischievousness as he countered Gajeel’s comment effortlessly.

Lucy looked away as she felt a flutter in her stomach. Maybe camp food didn’t agree with her.

“Who’s this cutie?” Cana interrupted, eyeing the boy behind Lucy as she took a swig from her ‘orange juice’. She smiled coyly, leaning forward and pushing her cleavage together. Lucy rolled her eyes and chased a chickpea around her plate before pushing her fork into it violently. So what if Cana was looking for a new fling this summer, it was none of Lucy’s business that the cute guy behind her had caught her friend's attention. Even though he had talked to her first...

“O-oh umm,” she heard behind her, Lucy lowering her head and glaring at the half of the chickpea that had flown from her fork. So what if his nervous and flustered voice sounded even cuter than his confident one. She looked over her shoulder again, head turning without permission. Her expression lightened considerably when she saw his uncomfortable look, eyes wide and looking at Gajeel for help. Not that Lucy cared that he wasn't interested in Cana. Because that would be petty. And Lucy was a good friend. Yes. And good friends encouraged one another to try and kiss cute people. Wait, kiss?

“Natsu! Juvia is glad to see you again! Are you still hallucinating about your girlfriend in the shower?” Juvia asked brightly, eyebrows pinching in concern as she finished speaking. Natsu made a high noise as his face turned bright red while all three boys at the table burst into loud and raucous laughter. “Gajie was quite concerned for his cousin’s mental health.” She continued, pouting as she looked around the table. “Natsu’s mental illness is no laughing matter.” She mumbled to herself, Lucy looking at Natsu critically and taking pity on him when she noticed his clenched fists and raised shoulders.

She couldn't help the giggle that bubbled in her throat when Natsu looked at her, his eyes bright and clear and captivating Lucy. She didn't think she had ever seen such a pretty green before. He looked away quickly, hands stuffed in the pockets of his open, faded-red hoodie. She smiled when she recognized the band name on the shirt under it, opening her mouth to ask him about it when she was cut off.

“Really? Jimmy Eat World?” Gray sneered, Lucy looking at him in shock. “I bet you just love the song The Middle, don't you?”

Lucy narrowed her eyes at his condescending tone, looking up at Natsu when he made a low ‘tch’ sound. “You think you're so great, I bet you tell everyone you were kissin' the Way brothers asses before Welcome To The Black Parade because everyone hasta know you were ‘tragic’ before it was cool.” Natsu shot back, lip curled up and eyes hard as he looked at Gray. Lucy had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop from snorting, Natsu looking at her in surprise at the sound. His expression softened and he grinned crookedly at her, Lucy struggling to compose herself again.

“Well I like Jimmy Eat World. And The Middle is my favourite song.” Lucy said pointedly, holding Gray’s cold stare until he looked at the table and stole one of Cana’s fries. She held her hand up to Natsu and smiled her most friendly smile. “My name’s Lucy, but you already knew that,” she said teasingly. Natsu blushed and tugged at the white scarf wrapped loosely around his neck before taking her hand and giving it a firm shake, his skin warm and rough against Lucy’s.

“I'm um, Natsu. And I don't have a girlfriend!” Natsu rushed out, eyes widening in horror when he realized what he had said. Lucy giggled again. Natsu relaxed and grinned at her laugh, his look melting and making Lucy blush the longer they stared at one another. Both jumped apart when Cana cleared her throat, Lucy laughing nervously and Natsu scratching the back of his head as they tore their hands from the other’s. Lucy stuck her tongue out at Cana’s raised eyebrow and approving smirk. Gray glared harder at Cana’s fries and Lucy worried they might actually freeze over.

“What happened to your stupid sweater?” Gray asked coldly, Natsu’s mouth twisting as he faced him.

“I fixed the thermostat, so now I don't have to worry about freezin’ my fucking dic-” he grinned victoriously, stuttering as he looked at Lucy again, mouth frozen mid word.

Loke and Gajeel both groaned loudly to themselves, Lucy looking between Natsu and Gray at the obvious inside argument.

“Fucking overgrown lizard.” Gray hissed, Natsu looking away from Lucy once again.

“Ice Princess. You gonna sing Let It Go at karaoke or something?”

Cana burst into loud laughter, thumping Gray on the back as she howled. Gray was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Well at least I don't go garbage diving for all my clothes.” Gray smirked, looking Natsu up and down condescendingly. Natsu tensed again, eyes narrowed as he growled back.

“Like you even wear clothes you perverted stripper.”

“Really, watch who you're calling perverted you fucking mol-”

“Enough.” Gajeel said suddenly, Gray biting his tongue at the warning tone. The table sat in awkward silence for a few seconds before Lucy was reminded of her growing anger at Gray when he made a face at Natsu.

“Well I think his clothes suit him,” she mumbled defensively, looking at her platter and stabbing another innocent chickpea. “There's no need to be so rude.” She looked up at Gray when she heard a dry snort, Lucy’s lips twisting down at his cruel smirk.

“Yeah, ‘cus he’s trash too.”

“Gray Fullbuster that is it. You are acting like such a pretentious asshole right now and I don't care what you two are fighting about but Juvia is our friend and he is Juvia’s friend so you will be nice to our new friend.” Lucy seethed, Gray flinching back and lower lip puffing out by a fraction, looking back at the fries as he stole yet another. Lucy rolled her eyes. Great, now Gray was pouting.

“And you,” She turned to Natsu, who also flinched back under the remainder of her glare. “Stop encouraging him.”

“Aye sir.”

Lucy blinked at his quick reply, shaking her head with a sigh as she looked away. She met Gajeel’s impressed look before looking at Cana, who was tugging on Gray’s ear, pulling him across the table by the ear. He was hunched uncomfortably as Cana whispered something harshly to him that was making Gray pale more than usual. Levy and Juvia wore matching looks of concern. Loke just looked bored.

“Why don’tcha take a seat there Flame Head,” Gajeel offered gruffly, Natsu looking around the table and finally eyeing the only available spot beside Lucy. He looked at Gray, a sort of unspoken conversation happening between the two for some reason before giving a small smile.

“I think I'll just head back to the cabin with a sandwich or something, I don't wanna be any more trouble...” He excused, smile becoming strained as he shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“You're not any trouble Natsu,” Lucy said firmly, speaking over Gray’s unintelligible murmur. Ass.

“Nah, I gotta go check on Lily and Happy anyway.” He took another step back, Lucy looking up at him and ignoring Loke’s comment on ‘devil spawn’.

“Sit.” She ordered, but Natsu remained standing awkwardly, pulling nervously at the sleeves of his hoodie.

“C-Can I erm, go get some food first?” He stammered.

“Oh, of course!” Lucy blushed, realising she may have come across as a little bossy, “Help yourself! We’ll still be here when you come back!”

Natsu looked as though he were doubtful of that fact, but he nodded anyway before shuffling away. Lucy watched him go, shoulders hunched and hands stuffed into the pocket of his ripped jeans as though he were trying not to draw attention to himself.

“Wow Lu, eager much?” Cana’s snicker drew Lucy’s attention back to the table.

“It’s not like that!” Lucy flushed, “I just- he… seems kind of familiar is all.”

Her mind flitted back to earlier, when she’d bumped into him on her way out of the auditorium. The way he’d looked at her… and he said her name like it was a prayer. Even remembering it sent shivers down her spine. She wondered again how he’d known her name before she told it to him.

“Didn’t you do volunteer work with that special needs school last year?” Gray pondered, frowning when he received a slap to the wrist from Cana as he was caught stealing another of her fries, “Maybe he was a student there and that’s where you remember him from.”

“What is your problem?” Lucy hissed, kicking his shin under the table. His answering yelp of pain was grossly exaggerated, “Why do you hate him so much? You’ve only known him for a few hours.”

“Gray’s just a little worried that Natsu’s desired cabin temperature will thaw his frozen heart.” Loke mused as he closely inspected the piece of lettuce impaled on his fork, “Or, y’know, that Natsu is hot enough to do it himself.”

Gray looked more horrified than he had when he and Lucy had watched The Human Centipede on Halloween last year at Loke’s words. Their orange haired friend simply shoved his fork in his mouth, the lettuce having passed his inspection. Loke finally caught Gray’s look and flashed him a green-flecked grin.

“Juvia wishes she could thaw Gray’s frozen heart.” Juvia pouted from beside Gajeel.

“My heart isn’t frozen,” Gray scowled, “And you’re way hotter than Natsu.”

Juvia squeaked as Gray’s face turned as red as the tomatoes in Loke’s salad. Cana and Lucy shared a look of delighted surprise while Gajeel and Levy looked a mix of amused and uncomfortable. Gajeel holding majority of the latter in his expression, as Lucy no doubt suspected he was losing circulation in his arm by now.

Natsu took a deep breath as he walked back to the table, eyebrows knitting as he joined mid sentence.

“Who’s hotter than me?” Natsu questioned, adopting his previous stance of standing awkwardly by the table, this time with a tray stacked with food.

“No one!” Lucy blurted, the same time Gray drawled ‘Everyone’.

Natsu stood there chuckling nervously as he glanced at everyone seated, avoiding Lucy’s eyes for fear his face would literally catch on fire. There was an awkward moment of silence during which Juvia- still attached to Gajeel’s arm- narrowed her eyes at him and hissed something that sounded distinctly like ‘Love Rival’.

When his eyes finally met Lucy’s once more, she smiled at him brightly and patted the space beside her. Natsu gulped, mustering his courage as he sat down.

Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird, rang through his head like a mantra.

He sat in silence, nervously poking at his food. Gajeel always told him he was a monster when he ate. He figured a sweet girl like Lucy wouldn’t want to see something so… uncouth. That’s what Grandine had called it right? Something about no manners. He was too nervous to eat anyway.

He dared a glance at her out the corner of his eye. He couldn’t believe this was real. That he was sitting right next to her. At Fairy Tail. Maybe he’d have the best summer of his life and during the final performance the beat of the song would turn into the steady thrum of one of those hospital machines, and really he’d just been in a coma the whole time. That seemed a whole lot more likely than finding her again and her actually liking him.

He chanced another look, just to make sure she was still there. Green eyes met brown. Natsu quickly looked away.

“Can I ask you a question?” Lucy turned to him, setting her fork down and pushing her plate away.

Natsu sat up straighter, keenly aware of her focus on him. He pushed his own plate away despite having yet to eat one bite.

“Sure.” He offered her a weak smile.

Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird.

This was it. He was going to have an actual conversation with her. Not an imagined one. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her he’d already known her name when she’d offered her hand earlier. She knew he already knew her name. Oh god, what if she thought he was a stalker or something? Girls like her probably had their fair share of stalkers. Oh god oh god oh god, what had that icy bastard told her while he’d been in the lunch line? What if she didn’t even remember bumping into him before. She didn’t remember making out with him, why would she remember him gaping at her? Oh god he didn’t think he could take her forgetting him twice-

“Are you alright?” Lucy frowned at him.

“W-Was that the question?”

“No,” A furrow appeared between her brows as she leaned a little closer to him, “You’ve just gone awfully pale all of a sudden...”

He was dimly aware of Gray and Loke snickering in the background, but for the most part the sound was drowned out by the ringing of his pulse in his ears.

This was it. This was what a heart attack felt like.

“Ah yes,” A skimpily clad brunette sitting two down from Lucy leaned across the table to nod at him in deep understanding, “That was my exact face when I first got a stellar view of the twin peaks.”

Natsu’s mind groped for understanding until the brunette made a honking motion with her hands in front of her own chest. Natsu looked back to Lucy in confusion, then his eyes moved of their own accord.

It was just for a split second, but when his eyes found hers again he knew. He knew that she knew. They both leaned back slightly, cheeks blazing pink. He was dead. His heart attack had killed him and now he was in hell. Pure, mortifying, hell.

Lucy shielded her chest before whirling on her friends.

“Cana!” She screamed, “What have I told you about-”

But Natsu didn’t hear the rest of Lucy’s protests as he felt a jolt go through the table, his tray of food moving away from him with the force. He looked up to find Gray twisting the handle of his fork, working it deeper into the wood of the table as he glared at him.

“You’re dead,” Gray seethed, his words uttered in a quiet but deadly calm. Natsu heard them loud and clear even over Lucy’s shouting, “You so much as look at-”

“Gray please,” Loke sighed from between the still yelling Lucy and Cana, “When they’re that nice you can’t blame a man for peeking.”

“Loke!” Lucy and Gray yelled in unison.

“Juvia knew chivalry wasn’t dead.” Juvia sighed dreamily, “Gray is a true gentleman.”

“How can he be a gentleman when he’s not even wearing a shirt!” Natsu protested.

“You say that like I don’t threaten guys who look at you all the time.” Gajeel frowned at Juvia, who finally let go of his arm to rest her chin in her hands and stare dreamily into the distance.

“Juvia wishes Gray was her protector.”

This spurred another round of protests from Lucy, who insisted Gray was not her protector. Gajeel expressed his disbelief on Juvia’s deaf ears, claiming the girl was ungrateful. Cana and Loke were placing bets on which of Lucy’s assets would distract Natsu next, while Natsu demanded to know why Gray was willing to murder him for glancing- which he stated, many times, was unintentional- at Lucy’s chest while others were freely allowed to discuss it in depth.

The ruckus of their table drew many curious stares, all of which Levy noticed as she watched the mess unfold before her.

“You’re crazy.” She whispered to herself, “All my new friends are crazy.”

Their whole table became so engrossed in their arguing that they didn’t notice the steady rise of their ‘indoor voices’ or the red-head stepping up to the announcer's podium on the other side of the room.

“SILENCE.”

The voice roared over the speaker, stopping not just their table but all the others dead. Lucy’s stomach filled with dread as everyone’s eyes turned to the redhead behind the podium, only to find that she was glaring directly at their table.

“Shit.” Lucy heard Gajeel whisper.

This was promptly followed by Natsu.

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” He whispered to himself.

Lucy turned towards him to find him hurrying out of his seat, his green eyes wide with fear and never leaving the podium. She followed his gaze to find not only the red haired girl making her way towards their table, but Gajeel practically crushing Levy -who was frozen in place in fear- in his attempt to flee his seat.

The moment Gajeel was free he ran, head ducked as he darted through the tables as though that would do anything to hide his bulky six foot and heavily pierced frame. She turned back to find Natsu crouched by the table ready to flee. He seemed to be hesitating.

He held his hand out to her cautiously.

“Come with me if you want to live.” He whispered dramatically.

Lucy barely had time to squint at him in confusion before Natsu squeaked- actually squeaked- in fear and scuttled away.

When she turned back to the table, her friends shared her look of immense confusion. Levy was staring down at the table, avoiding any and all eye contact.

Gray shrugged the expression off with a roll of his eyes.

“Pussies.” He snorted in amusement.

A shadow fell over their table.

“Disgusting.” The red haired girl scowled as she stood at the head of their table. “You. What is your name?”

She pointed a finger at Gray, who swallowed nervously. He was trying not to look scared, but Lucy could see right through him. The poor boy was terrified.

Lucy didn’t blame him. Intimidation was practically rolling off this girl in waves. She seemed a little older than the rest of them. Her stance was powerful, chest sticking out slightly as though to show off the Fairy Tail logo on the breast of her t-shirt off with pride. Lucy gulped as she read the words Camp Enforcer embroidered there.

“G-Gray Fullbuster?” Gray answered in a timid voice.

“You don’t seem very sure about that.” The girl narrowed her eyes at him. Lucy watched her carefully as the girls head shot up and looked around the room. “Natsu! Gajeel! Don’t think I don’t hear you snickering out there. I will find you!”

Lucy heard a distant crash near the back entrance accompanied by shouts of ‘Save your own ass Flame Brains!’ from what she assumed was her new friends mad dash for freedom. She was suddenly very glad she’d stayed as the redhead’s eyes blazed with anger. The consequences seemed worse for running.

“As for you,” She addressed Gray again, “Do you always use such vulgar language when there are children present?”

“Ah- I- Erm-” Gray stammered.

His chest was heaving and he was beginning to sweat. Lucy and Loke shared a worried look. Gray looked like he was on the verge of an asthma attack, even though he hadn’t had one in over eight years. Lucy still carried an inhaler with her, just in case, but it was back in her cabin.

The first call to the Camp Paramedics was postponed however, when Juvia unleashed the full force of her smile.

“Erza!” She beamed, “Juvia is so happy to see you!”

The redhead- Erza- turned her gaze to Juvia. Her anger seemed to dissipate somewhat at the joy in Juvia’s smile.

“Juvia,” Erza greeted with a nod, “I’m glad to see you’ve made some friends. Albeit disrupting ones.”

“We’re very sorry about that ma’am!” Lucy pipped up, seizing the chance to get into the ‘Camp Enforcers’ good books, “It won’t happen again.”

“I can assure you it won’t,” Erza smiled pleasantly, “Not after I catch those two swine. Nice to see you as well Levy.”

Without any further chit-chat, Erza went on her merry way. Lucy could have sworn there was a skip in her step as she went off in the direction Natsu and Gajeel had fled.

“I could have died,” Gray wheezed with a hand to his chest, “I should be dead.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Cana drawled, “Juvia would have given you mouth to mouth, there was never any danger.”

“Would Gray like some CPR?” Juvia questioned the dark haired boy eagerly, shuffling a little closer to him.

“Erm, I can breathe just fine on my own, thank you.” Gray cringed a little as Juvia wrapped her arms around his.

“Juvia can’t.” She sighed as she rested her chin on Gray’s shoulder, “Gray takes Juvia’s breath away.”

The rest of the table made gagging noises, but Loke looked impressed.

“Damn,” The orange haired boy muttered beside Lucy, “That one was smooth.”

A sharp staticky sound filled the room, drawing all eyes back to the podium at the front of the cafeteria. As sudden as the noise had been it was cut off, unintelligible frustrated mutterings and curses coming from the seemingly empty stand. Lucy watched as two bells came into view, attached to the ends of a purple and orange stripped court jesters hat -Lucy assumed that's what it was supposed to be anyway. More agitated murmurs floated through the air until finally the head of the camp director Makarov popped into place.

“Listen up brats,” he began, white moustache twitching in a scowl as he eyed the direction Erza had walked -skipped- off in. His expression softened to a wry smile when he looked around the room and at the expressions of the teenagers around him. “So here we are, yet another start to Camp Fairy Tail.

“I just want to wish everyone an unofficial and Fairy Tail welcome, and I hoped all you youngsters enjoyed our opening ceremony, courtesy of our very own Gildarts Clive.” A small round of applause scattered through the campers, Lucy smiling at Makarov’s warm grin at the sound. “Yes, an amazing force of Fairy Tail when he remembers to come back home from his tours. Oh shut up you know it’s true you walking wrecking ball.” Cana snorted as the hushed sounds of Makarov bickering with her father came through the microphone, giving a small wave when Gildarts beamed over and swung his arm through the air in exaggerated motions.

Makarov released a heavy sigh, muttering under his breath before he forced a large smile on his face and continued speaking.

“As all of our returning family know, the first week is a settling in week. The camp directors and I want to let all you brats get used to the layout and the independence of the camp, as well as to meet some of your fellow campers.

“This year’s week themes will be posted by the end of the day today and the pairings for the first week will be picked by the councilors, both from your submitted bio’s and from our watching you interact. Most pairings will stay within the age groups, but sometimes we like to see one of our older children mentor the younger ones. There will also be a karaoke night one of these evenings, please see our lovely Mira Jane for more details.” Makarov scratched the side of his head, eyes closed and brows knitted in thought. Lucy snuck a glance at Cana and Loke, the only two in the original group who had been here previously -granted it had been years ago. Both were smiling fondly as they looked up at the podium, Makarov still capturing their attention like a grandfather who was telling the same story about walking up the hill both ways before handing out a piece of candy. Or a beer, in Cana’s case.

A loud crash and a high pitched wail came from outside the cafeteria, followed by what Lucy assumed was a war cry. Makarov’s eyes opened tiredly and his shoulders drooped, Lucy thinking she saw the phrase ‘I’m too old for this’ mouthed by the old man.

“And a last reminder. There is no camp enforcer at Fairy Tail. Just a very, very, passionate young woman who could quite possibly kill a bear. Good luck!” And with that note his head disappeared behind the podium again, an eerie silence falling over the campers in the seconds following.

Lucy grinned worriedly as she made eye contact with Juvia. Well, that was one way to start off the summer.

Playlist:

All The Boys - Panic! At The Disco (Not on Spotify)

The Middle - Jimmy Eats World

The Take Over, The Breaks Over - Fall Out Boy

Right Back At It Again - A Day To Remember

Come Alive - Astoria Kings

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