#my first thought was always having level 1 exhaustion until he can rest outside but you know

[dunerover]

∘˙○˚.• Hi! It's a good night as any to mention Zandi is 1) uncomfortable staying in small, enclosed spaces and 2) hates caves, especially ones that resemble mines.

The cave issue could probably be categorized as a condition; he can tough it out if he has to, but he's not quite himself and can't sleep well if he has to stay in one.

[memequeen92]

regarding springtrap headcanons, i got maybe a small prompt o sorts? you reckon this guy is Constantly Conscious, or do you think he's capable of a sleep or some type of rest mode? v interested in ur thoughts on this.

ooh I like this one I have so many possible headcanons about it, most of which maximize his suffering! (though tbf... most of my headcanons do that anyways)

some of them conflict but honestly I just love thinking about all the possible ways things with him would work u kno?? love having different things to pick and choose from - more under the cut cause this is gonna be a lil long

okay so 

headcanon #1: (my fav/main one)

He does sleep, in a way - not a pleasant one by any means though and he prefers to avoid it as long as physically possible. 

It’s a similar experience to when you have sleep paralysis, though a bit worse - He’s technically asleep, and will feel (only slightly) more rested after doing it - but he’s also aware, and suffers horrifying hallucinations (nightmarish or shadowy animatronics, ghost children, etc) - unlike sleep paralysis where you can sometimes knock yourself out of it or fall asleep and not have to deal with it anymore - he can't. he is stuck, unable to move or wake until he is finished sleeping - he remains aware the entire time, no exceptions. He remembers it when he ‘wakes’ again as well - he hates it.

Even if he closes his eyes to avoid the visual hallucinations, he can still experience auditory ones - sometimes it’s children laughing at him, sometimes it’s garbled mechanical screams, the sounds of springlocks going off (his least favourite of course, always makes him flinch no matter how long its been which just sends pain through his body) - all sorts of terrifying awful things. Sometimes they don’t kick in right away, and he’ll find himself just getting some tiny fraction of comfortable before they start and ruin it entirely.

They would have been worse at first ofc, and over time he would eventually get  more tolerant of it, though never fully - but there’s always that deep desire for just one restful sleep that just gets more and more desperate each time he wakes up again and slowly starts driving him mad. 

ofc, to the outside observer during all this, he just looks like an old animatronic slumped against a wall or on a desk, wherever he decided to snooze - there’s no external signs of distress, though he can feel any sort of touch/pain inflicted during the ‘sleep’ state (don’t kick him or you might regret it later...) he also might twitch a little now and then - and you might feel like somethings watching you (its him, he’s watching you. do not kick him, you will regret it. he will know.)

headcanon #2

He does sleep, but it’s neither restful nor horrifying - it’s just regular sleep, no dreams, no nightmares - nothing. He wakes feeling the exact same as he did no matter how much he tries to feel even just a little more rested. 

It’s basically instinctive and unavoidable and if he tries to go without he suffers from exhaustion and passes out - he only did this once before he accepted how it was, because he woke up even more tired and never recovered from it - he hates it because it just wastes valuable time with no purpose other than to keep his energy level the same, but does it because he doesn’t want to feel worse than he already does and fears that if he tried he might eventually just be stuck in a permanent sleep state (not death, but basically the same to him)

Headcanon #3

He is incapable of sleep - there is no rest for him of any kind - he is constantly fatigued no matter what. He can close his eyes and rest them for a bit and finds it to help a little, but he can never reach a true sleep state for any amount of time. It’s miserable and he hates it.

[writings-of-bored-gal]

Protection - Part 10

Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Part 10/?

Summary: Jaime and his wife make it to Sunspear, but what will be waiting there for them when they arrive?

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! so….it’s been a while. I never wanted to leave this fanfic unfinished and I promise I will eventually get to finishing it, I just needed to know where it was I wanted to go with it and in all honesty, the way the show ended kind of put me off thinking about that. I am going to give this another go though, and Protection will be finished one way or another (else it might haunt me for the rest of my days). I have also started writing more original content which can now be found on Dreame and the link is in my Masterlist! Thank you all for the continued support and I hope you’re all staying safe. Thanks for reading- Abby x

Protection Tags: @mikariell95, @evyiione, @sleepylunarwolf, @wnygirl2012, @purpose4fan-fiction, @mmmcchan, @lxdyred, @duvetsandpillows, @d34d-0n-th3-1ns1d3, @bshelley322

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee! 

_______________

Jaime wrapped the child in a blanket, clutching it tightly to shield it from the sand that whipped around them in the wind. It had cried, it had screeched as its mother fell to the ground, her arms unable to take the weight of the tiny being. 

She was now slumped over the front of Bronn’s horse, Bronn’s arms showing veins where the strain of holding her up was getting to him. It hadn’t been pretty, but she had done all she could and she had the child before fainting in exhaustion and dehydration. Jaime tried not to let his fear show, tried not to disturb the sleeping infant in his arms, but he couldn’t help but let it eat away inside of him. They had to reach the Martells before it was too late for her. Bronn had managed to bring a maester, who lingered behind them on his own horse. He seemed hesitant to help them until Jaime had explained that she was not of Lannister blood, but the daughter of Ned Stark. The argument had persuaded the master, but Jaime was not sure if it would sway the Martells to his cause. They would be happy to let her die even if it was just to spite him. 

Whilst the journey to the Martell’s residence was a short one, it felt longer than any of their time at sea. Jaime looked down at the child in his arms, a young boy. Cersei would be disgusted. A new Lannister heir. He didn’t really care what Cersei thought. The boy looked strong and healthy, despite the heat he did not seem bothered, his chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm of sleep. Jaime looked over to his wife, her eyes flitting open for a moment before closing once again. At least she was still alive. 

The edges of Sunspear became visible above the dunes. The tips of its golden spires were visible above the large walls that surrounded the building. There were guards at every entrance, all sporting the Martell crest of the spear bursting through the sun. Jaime thought back to Oberyn, the way he fought the Mountain with a spear and his courage. He had nothing but respect for the Martells, but he could not say they would feel the same way about him. 

The maester rode up to meet the level of Jaime and Bronn. He stepped down from his horse and went to check on Jaime’s dear wife, still slumped over Bronn’s horse and mumbling something Jaime could not hear. He attempted to give her some water, but she laughed, batting the vessel away in delirium. Jaime was no maester, but even he could see she was delirious. He felt panic rise inside of his, the child sensing it and fussing in his blankets. He watched as the maester stepped ahead to the two guards, murmuring something to them as they nodded, one turning and making his way into the walls of Sunspear as the maester returned to Jaime and Bronn. 

“They have asked that she enter Sunspear alone with the child,” the maester told Jaime. 

“You expect me to give my wife up to my family’s enemies so freely? No!” Jaime replied, his voice rising in anger. He would not leave her. She would not die alone. “Put me in chains for all I care, but I am following her in there-“

“Jaime,” Bronn’s voice, level and calm felt like a bucket over water, washing away his anger and bringing him back to the present, “you’re going to be no good to anyone in chains, mate. Let her go in.” 

Jaime wanted to take out his sword. He wanted to fight. That’s what he knew, what he had always known. That was where his strengths truly lay, but he also knew they would not serve him here. He was not here to fight the Martells. Whatever his intentions before, he was now there to beg for their help. 

“Take her,” he murmured, “and him…” Bronn’s eyebrows shot skyward. He had not known the child was a boy, and he understood the implications. His wife was taken on the horse whilst the maester took away his son, leaving Jaime and Bronn sitting uselessly with their arses in the sand as they leaned up agains the walls in the shade, waiting for word from the palace. 

After hours, the sun remained high in the sky, but the guards had changed. Bronn and Jaime had mainly been sitting in silence, Jaime staring into the distance, Bronn drawing crude shapes into the sand in some attempt to entertain himself until he could not hold onto his thoughts any longer. 

“So, a boy,” he said to Jaime, clicking his tongue in thought. Jaime scowled, but it did not deter him. “What’s going to happen when Cersei gets a word of this then?” 

Jaime sighed. “I’m trying not to think too hard about it. I’m more concerned whether they’re alive in there.” 

Bronn shrugged, “they’ll let you in eventually, just need to assess the threat first.” 

“There’s one of me and a thousand of them, how much of a threat can I be?” 

“Aye,” Bronn smirked, “but you’re the Kingslayer.”

___________________

She awoke as the sun was setting, her mouth dry and everything sore. A maester was stood aside from her, whispering to a tall, slender woman with a mouth that seemed it would permanently be turned downwards in a disapproving manner. Her hands fluttered to her belly, still swollen but empty now. She remembered the desert, she remembered the searing pain, but then she had no clue. Had her child survived?

She wanted to cry, but her eyes couldn’t sacrifice losing the little moisture they had. She shut her eyes. She had not seen Jaime, but she hoped his was not far from her. He had promised her protection, hadn’t he? But protection did not mean safety, not anymore. She’d seen her father protect her mother as best as he could, but neither of them had ever been safe, not when there were so many threats. 

“Lady Stark?” It was the tall woman. Her voice should have been comforting. She had always liked the lilt of the Dornish accent, but her name had come out as more of bark. All she could do in response was nod, her throat too dry to croak out some sort of response. She had not been a Stark for a long time, but the name was like a childhood blanket, and she clung to it for comfort. 

The woman came closer, holding up a flask so that she could take a drink, speaking to the girl who called herself Stark whilst she drank. 

“We did not think you would manage to wake up so quickly,” she told her, “you were on the edge of madness when my maester bought you to the doors of the palace.”

“The child?” She managed to choke.

“The child is safe and well. I’ve had someone nurse him, although I imagine he will need his mother soon.” She smiled kindly, but it did not reach her eyes. “Your husband is going to be a problem for us, though. He waits for now outside the walls but his patience will not last forever.” She examined the woman lying down, as if assessing if she was a threat despite the fact she could hardly move. “I think perhaps we could allow him inside with the necessary precautions, but you will stay here with us whilst he can take residency in a cell, I think.” 

Part of her wanted to protest, but she knew it would be useless. The best she could do for now was try and figure out what the Martells wanted from them. It was her turn to protect him. 

[caesthetix]

GREAT DESCENDANT — Pt. 1 Leather Journal

↪Attack on Titan series

↪content; warrior!reader, aged-up character, graphic description of violence, slow burn, season 4 spoiler

Tiny footsteps belonging to you echoed throughout the empty hallway. Your forehead scrunched as a bead of sweat trailed down your skin, but you dismissed the discomfort as you needed to find your father, wanting some explanation.

It was around four in the afternoon, and you were certain that your father must be occupying himself inside his study, probably enjoying his coffee as he read some reports regarding the military advance. You always wondered why he got all of that information even though he was not even in the military, but perhaps the book in your hand was the answer to your question, and you had to find out more.

You were used to running around this part of the mansion — since you would spend some of your time here with your father when he didn't invite the military higher-ups or some of his business partners for a meeting together. Truthfully, you could have waited for later after dinner to confront him, but your mind was already fueled with curiosity that wouldn't die without being given the right extinguisher.

So you scurry out within an instant, far from the east wing where the library was located to the west where your father would entertain his friends and colleagues. In your small journey, you took off your mules and ran barefoot, ignoring the gasp from the maid that you passed in the hallway.

Panting, you felt the exhaustion course through your body as you finally reached your destination. Some eyes regarded you with worry beneath their intimidating gaze, but they knew that you had been running out of breath before, certain that it was nothing serious.

Two guards were standing tall on each side of the door, guarding your father's study against the outside, and you were certain there were another two on the other side of the door. They didn't give you any attention or warning, so you knew that he was not in some kind of meeting or too engrossed with work.

Sucking a deep breath, you hide the book that you found behind your back before raising your hand to the wooden door, knocking it with your knuckles several times, soft yet enough that it would echo inside the room. You heard the rustling of papers, probably from some of the military letters that he read.

"Name and busi—"

"It's me, pa!"

Your voice cut him off in a gleeful manner, holding yourself from bursting hundreds of questions. If you wanted to know the truth, you needed to play your cards right. Well, what could a six years old girl do? Anything of course, especially if you were the only child (for now) and your parents loved you like you were their stars in the night sky.

You tried to hide your smirk when you heard the audible 'click' coming from the inside, followed by the door opening simultaneously. The sun penetrated through the windows, lighting up the whole room and the hallway behind you. A pleasant smell of cedarwood filled your nostrils in an instant, the unique scent that you knew embedded on your father's suit too since he spent the majority of his time here.

There was a massive round table in the middle of the room, one where you like to sit when your father was busy with work but wanted your company. You would sit there without a care and boredom since your nose mostly touched the paper book in your hand, too engrossed with whatever literature that you could find within his study.

You didn't need to go back and forth from the east wing and grabbed some books there. Your father studies already engaging enough with a wide variety of history, self-improvement, and many other philosophy books. The room would be engulfed with silence if that happened, but the atmosphere was serene and comforting to both of you, making times fly past naturally and just felt right.

"Well, isn't it my precious daughter?" He stood up from his plush leather chair, dark yet warm eyes never left your figure as you skipped toward where he was. His lips shaped into a gentle smile as he watched how giddy you looked right now, with both hands on your back as if you had a surprise for him.

It was indeed a surprise, but whether he liked it or not was another story.

"Pa, I need to speak with you!" Your bubbly personality was always so endearing. You were witty, smart, wise — his little rascal but still had a personality like a noble lady when needed.

"And what do you want to talk to me about, my little star?" He walked closer before kneeling in front of you, levelling his eyes with yours. "Something serious? Something playful? Or maybe you just want to talk to me since you missed your pa so much?" His smile turned into a little smirk, raising one of his eyebrows in a teasing manner.

You jutted your lips at his question as your hands clench tighter on the brown books that you found before. Your father waited for any kind of explanation, but you didn't open up your mouth, not even a little. But you suddenly averted your gaze away, pupils shifting back and forth.

He blinked, trying to understand what it was that you wanted. Your father then looked past you, finding the guards inside the room. It left a question inside his mind at the moment, because you never once needed to talk alone as you always threw questions at him without caring if anybody heard.

This would be the first time, and he decided to indulge you with it.

"Guards, you can wait outside."

"Sir, with all due respect—"

"Please."

The two guards looked at each other before giving your father a salute, answered with a firm nod from him. You stood still with your eyes closed as you waited until the sound of footsteps started to fade, not realizing the scrutinizing look that he threw at you. The second you heard a gentle thud echoed in the room, you let out a breath that you subconsciously held.

You were alone now, with your father waiting for any syllables to come out from your lips. A few seconds ago you were so eager, ready to burst out all of the questions that popped inside your mind. But now, as he gazed at you with a look that you couldn't fathom, you started to rethink your decision.

Would he mad at you for reading the book that he strictly said was forbidden to read? He always kept it inside a glass compartment, telling you that it was filled with a history of mankind. The truth that someday he would tell you. So would he be angry if you knew it now instead of later?

"You read the journal, my star?" You subconsciously dropped the book as you never thought he could see through you like that. Your hands were shaking behind your back before you tightly grip your bow's dress, fearing that he would not let you walk inside the library ever again.

Seeing the distress in your eyes, he immediately rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently as if to make sure that you didn't have to be afraid. That whatever you did, you always became his little star, the daughter that he loved so much. "It's alright, sooner or later I will tell you all of it."

His voice was calm as he picked up the book from behind you, opening it right in front of your face as he checked that in case some pages were wrinkled. You still kept your mouth shut, waiting for him to say something more — because for sure his words before were still not enough to calm yourself.

When he looked at you again, you were averting his gaze and decided to look down. So he closed the book and reached out for you, holding your much smaller hand as he brought you toward his desk. The silence was deafening as he didn't say anything afterwards, making you have to focus on the footsteps to dwindle your concern.

His hand was warm as it engulfed yours, squeezing it softly here and there as he plopped himself to his chair. With how light you were, he picked you up and tucked you gently on his lap, wanting to make sure that you were comfortable since it would take some time to explain everything to you.

"Now, can you tell me what you already know so far?"

It was now that you finally dared to look up, curious about the expression on his face. You should have known that your father wouldn't be angry at you, he couldn't, at least not towards you. His face didn't even show any sign of resentment, he just sat there, looking down, and waited until you were ready to talk.

"Almost everything, I guess." You finally dared to speak up, yet it still sounded so timid. "That King Fritz was not our enemy, it was thanks to him that the war is over." Continuing your words, you swallowed a huge lump. "And those people on the island, they are not demons, but they are exactly like—"

"Us."

He finished your word without pause, knowing what you were going to say next like he always did. Your forehead scrunched at this, lips turned into a scowl as you tried to understand the world that you live in right now. All the war, the hatred that Eldians received inside the internment zone, if only this true story was out in the public then they wouldn't get treated like that, right?

"B-But why do we hide this information, then?" You croaked out, not believing that your family concealed such truth. "If people knew that King Fritz was the one who wanted peace, if only the whole world knew that Eldians did not want anything but to live like a normal human, they were not going to be treated like this, pa!"

You were begging right now, needing some answer that could justify the choice they made. It felt awful, like someone had put a blindfold on you all your life, whispering to you that the world filled with hatred and that because of your ancestors, because of the blood that flows inside your veins and there was nothing else that you could do except living through the brutal knowledge.

But it was all a lie, because your family could have made a change in this world yet didn't do anything about it.

Your father just sat there, listening to your cries and complaints. He knew from the start that you were someone that would do anything for Eldians to be free, he often saw you sneaking around and talked to the maids, after all, questioning about how their children were at home and many other mundane things.

He didn't have the courage to tell you, the reason why he kept the information to himself when he was warned by the current inheritor. He didn't have the courage to tell you what lies across the sea, what slept inside the walls that the king had made. As your father, he didn't want his six years old innocent daughter to know that the fate of the world was in their hands — the Eldian.

His lips turned into a frown as he realized. No matter how much he wanted to protect you from this cruel world, no matter how much he just wanted you to live and be happy without a burden on your shoulder, he couldn't grant his wish.

Because soon, you would be the one in the family who held the biggest responsibility.

"You would know soon enough, my little star." He gulped down, dark orbs gazing at your face as he was so tormented from this fact only. Your beady eyes shone under the orange hue that slipped through the large windows, making you look even more innocent, an angel to him and his wife as he cradled you like this on his lap.

Soon, and he needed to start telling you now how much weight you would carry throughout your life. "Once you inherit the war hammer titan."

"Wake up!"

You sat up straight as you tried to inhale the air bit by bit, feeling like your dreams that you had just stolen the oxygen out of your lungs. No, it was not a dream, it was a memory that you had with your father. The day when you knew the truth, the day when you knew your responsibility and how you needed to keep a blind eye over it.

And for sure, hiding the fact from everyone was the hardest part. Especially when you had these people you called friends as you invaded the island of Paradis with the mission to take back the founding titan. You wanted to tell them the danger, or how the people inside the wall were not as different from those in Liberio.

But you had made a vow to your father to keep your lips sealed, no matter how much you wanted to share it. And you were not going to break that promise, not when you knew there was a high possibility that you wouldn't make it back alive.

"I am sorry, I should have been more gentle." Your gaze still cast down your lap, wanting to control your emotion first before interacting with the other warrior. "Nightmare?" But his gentle, mature voice was so endearing you couldn't help but lookup.

His forehead scrunched in worry as you realized that he squatted down right in front of you. Large hazel eyes scrutinizing your every movement, and you felt so bare with how he seemed like he could see right through you.

"I am fine, Marcel." You answered him a matter of factly, not wanting to prolong the constant worry that he had for his fellow warriors. "Sorry, I will clean up the firepit and be ready in a minute."

"Oh, no need. I mean— you don't need to." He stood up, reaching out his hand for you, and you took it despite the confusion that was written all over your face. "I already cleaned it up, so you just have to grab your bag and we will be ready to continue our journey."

"Marcel!" You exclaimed, stomping your feet to the ground subconsciously as your eyes drilled on his skull. "It was supposed to be my turn!" And your outburst of course caught the others' attention. "You always do something like this, making sure that everyone could leisure around while you did all the work."

"(Y/n), I am sure that he—" The glare in your eyes now fell to another victim, the colossal titan inheritor, and you could see him flinch from just being the recipient of your glare. "N-Nevermind, I will just, uhm, check on Reiner if he is okay."

And just like that, he scurried off to find his friend, not wanting to interrupt your little tantrum that he was sure would subside soon.

Bertolt knew you, you were always a little cranky when you woke up, at least that was what he could see by the past three days as he woke up with you not far from him. You needed at least a minute just opening your eyes without doing anything, and after that, you were good to go. So he understood why you seemed so extra for what Marcel did right now.

You continued to scold the older boy who just stood there scratching his nape bashfully and apologizing for what he did. He didn't do anything wrong, but you just disliked the idea that someone did something that was supposed to be your job. Though you always said thank you before taking your leave.

Feeling that you had enough with boys, you walked to Annie who was currently nibbling at some sweets that you gave her before at the boat that brought the companion here. She seemed to see your little quarrel but decided to keep silent, waiting for Marcel to lead the way when he was done fanning his reddened cheek.

Three days had passed after Marley dropped you off to this cursed land. Everyone had so much expectation for this generation, and the fact that a Tybur took part in the mission brought so much hope to the Eldians in your homeland.

Your father was right about the burden that you were going to have. All the expectations set the bar so high for you. So for that, he prepared you to be a reliable and strong individual. Ever since the revelation, he pointed a lot of private instructors to teach you all the basic things about self-defence, archery, firearms, and swordsmanship skills.

You were shaped to be the Eldian's saviour in Marley, ever since you were six. And you would make sure that all your knowledge and experiences would be put to good use.

Marcel told you about the plan, and for now, they all would rely on Bertolt and Reiner's titan since it was the most destructive and save the rest for later days. When he first told you about the plan, the two of you were alone, he liked to discuss strategy first with you because your mind was the most mature of all of them.

And all the time he told you about it, your mind always thought that it was so wrong for him to ask for your advice. You wanted to tell him not to destroy the whole outer wall, just one district was enough and everyone could sneak in already. But you knew the chances to get in were lower if there was not enough damage.

So reluctantly, you agreed. You told him that he was brilliant, telling him that it would work for the warriors. And after that, everyone would enrol in the military cadet corps, some would graduate to be a survey corps, while the others joined the military police regiment. It would need a few years to get by, but it would be the safest and optimal route.

Just a few years here and you could come back home, reading books and annoying your father even more. Though you were sure that your mother would scold you for spending too much time with him, she would want you to go horseback riding with her while telling some stories about the family.

Yes, everything would be just like before, and you couldn't wait for it.

Your eyes fleeting toward the brunette who walked in front of you, his hair swept to the back, reminding you of his brother that was the complete opposite of him in terms of personality. Marcel was gentle, compassionate, reliable, all the things that you would expect from an elder sibling. Meanwhile, Porco was aggressive, emotional, and somewhat a little rude when he talked.

And the big difference between Porco and Marcel that you knew, was the fact that the younger brother despised you. The blonde often threw shades and mockery, telling you that you were not like them, how you were a spoiled kid, and could never understand what Eldian really feels with all the privilege that you had due to your last name.

But that didn't stop you from wanting to befriend him. You could see through his harsh facade, he was actually gentle inside and cared deeply for all the warrior candidates. He even let his guard down that day when they knew Reiner would be the armoured titan inheritor instead of him, letting you sit beside him outside the headquarters as he let out a sob.

He wept silently when you put your hand on his back, comforting him through the single touch. That was the only push he needed before breaking down in front of you, cursing himself for not being a better candidate, that it was his fault for being too confident in his skill and not trying harder to get the military's attention.

Oh, if only he knew. If only he knew the real reason why he was not here.

It felt like it happened such a long time ago despite knowing a month just passed ever since. You wondered what the other warrior did right now, more accurately, what was he doing right now. Maybe he had lunch with his family, or perhaps beating himself to the pulp and kept on training until he couldn't stand anymore.

Knowing that was enough to make you frown since you really cared for him, and to think that he blamed himself for his failure broke your heart even more. Every time you walked, there was an extra weight on your chest as an ivory shark tooth pendant grazing your skin, reminding you of your days in Marley once again.

Especially the day when you received the necklace, something you never took off ever since.

And now as you walked right behind Marcel, you could only imagine that the brown strands were blonde instead. But you shook your head after that, knowing for certain he would have a longer lifespan, that he wouldn't have to carry so much burden like the rest of you. He could enjoy his life, and that was what caused Marcel to put Reiner on the pedestals instead of him.

You didn't remember since when you were getting left behind. Of course you could still see the fellow warriors in front of you, but they were a few meters ahead from where you were. It happened a lot, so you didn't really complain since they knew sometimes you would need alone time.

It was not like there were titans around anyway, the Marleyan Military had assured you that the titans would only be there near the outer wall. So everyone should be saved since it was still halfway through the journey, no one needed to worry and be too on guard for now.

At least that was what you believed until you saw a large shadow looming from behind you.

The silence was deafening when you felt the air sucked out from the space around you, leaving you to stand there alone as you slowly lost the ability to breathe. Fear, that was what you felt right now as your mind could only conclude one thing — there was a titan, right behind you.

No, you still needed to finish your mission. You had promised your father that you would come back to him, you had promised your mother that you would come back home intact, even if it needed you a few years to grant that, as long as you could see them again, it was alright.

As long as you could come back and see him happy and living a beautiful life even when your term was going to end, it would be fine.

But you were glued to the ground, your muscles tensed and you couldn't move your limbs to run, or just to evade that gigantic hand which now ready to crush your small body with its hand. Yet despite all that, you felt a strong push coming from your side, pushing you out of the way and snapped you back to reality.

You saw Marcel, his dark brown hair dishevelled as now his torso engulfed in the hand of a titan. He looked distressed, panicked, and he flailed his body around as he tried with all his might to survive, despite an impeccable fate that he already knew deep inside his heart.

No one knew where it came from, one second they were chatting, and the next as Marcel saw a titan running toward you, his feet moved on their own with one goal to reach for you. You couldn't see it, you just gave him an empty look as you were just deep in thought a moment before.

He knew that you would be too shocked to understand what happened, he knew that you couldn't move away when you turned to see what was standing behind you. And there was something inside his soul that boosted him to run faster, pushing you away as he decided to replace you.

"Come on, let's go!"

He heard Reiner shouting at you who was still sitting on the grass, eyes focused on him as you tried to wrap your head around you. There were tears in your orbs when Bertolt and Reiner pulled you away forcefully, your legs even wobbled, and that was when the ravenette decided to hoist you up over his shoulder.

Marcel heard the shout, the pleading in your voice as you called out his name. The others were running to safety, but he could still see you as your hand stretched out for him, not believing that you would lose him like this.

"(Y/n)!" He screamed with all his might, hoping that you could hear what he said. Wide teeth already surrounded his head, and it was a matter of time before his world turned black. So he needed to say it, he needed you to tell his brother that his job was done for now. "Tell Porco I did it!"

Then he was gone as the jaw of the titans closed with his body in between it. He died in the hand of a titan who no one knew where it came from. You should have been cautious, no matter what, this island was filled with titans and you shouldn't have trusted whatever the Marleyan Military said. And it should have been you, not him.

Your eyes never left the scene as you saw Marcel being devoured alive, starting from his head, slowly down to his hip. The details were so vivid and you were sure it would be engraved in your mind for as long as you lived. This would be your constant nightmare, reminding you every day what a cruel world you lived in.

And you didn't know if you were ever ready — if someday you met a circumstance when you had to face Porco, knowing that his brother died saving you.

Paradis Citizen(s)

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↪Back to Great Descendant Masterlist OR Wall Maria

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

[leftonraed]

The Night We Met - Episode 7

pairing : Taehyung x OC  genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au   word count : 5.9 k summary — Everything seems set fair for Taehyung and his niece, except you’re not in the picture much to their dismay. Warnings – smut scenes ahead, nothing too extreme I promise ;] Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7 

It must have been the tenth time Taehyung’s skimming his completed adoption request. His parents who arrived a little while ago let him have some peace and quiet in the short minutes they’ve got left before the hearing.  

His arms are resting on his knees and his hair hides his face from anyone walking down the large hallway. He relaxes his wrists, forcing himself to stare at anything else but the paper in his hands and calm his nerves.

He closes his eyes and tries to think of anything to disconnect from the noise of people buzzing around.

His mind takes him away for a moment, far enough to make his parents’ conversation nothing but a string of indistinct words. He’s being taken back to this morning, back to his earliest thought of the day – you.

He’d instantly conjured up a picture of you as soon as he had felt your arms wrapping around his body beneath the covers. His lips had stretched in a lazy smile while his hands slid down above yours. The feeling of your lips kissing the skin of his nape had thieved a soft groan of pleasure.

He’d turned around, taken his place between your legs, rubbing against their softness in slow moves before seeking your mouth blindly. You’d hugged him tight, answering his kiss just as zealously.

Taehyung isn’t sure how but he can still smell the scent your neck was giving off. It’s like you’re with him all over again.

The needy moan you had let escape once you had felt him pushing deeper within, had had him rolling his hips against yours for the first time, silently requesting more of those.  

The notion of your presence in his embrace was overwhelming. He couldn’t get enough of you.

He’d offered you some respite and buried his face in your neck and hair, thrusting harder, squeezing tighter, inhaling deeply as much as possible.

He could hear you, gasping by his ear while stifling you with his love. Your nails had dug in his back as his name had escaped you in a tired pant. He’d smothered you in a possessive and comforting hold as he had helped you ride out the sudden burst.

He’d followed closely, trapping his throaty grunts in your mouth with a demanding kiss while he was filling you up with more of himself.

Taehyung had never opened his eyes the whole time, he didn’t want to, he wanted to keep you here, underneath and stuck to him simply because it felt right.

Once the pleasurable feeling had worn off, he eventually blinked himself awake, only to be surrounded by a deafening silence and the absence of you.

He felt hot, exhausted and wet. The pillow was sticking to his face uncomfortably when he pulled himself up on his arms to glance down where you were supposed to be. He was left to discover himself in the mess you had driven him to make.

“Taehyung!”

He opens his eyes and looks up in surprise at the loud call from his father.

“You left the poor girl calling for you for a whole minute.”

He recognizes and finally acknowledges Hina’s teacher bent towards him. She had graciously accepted to take part in the hearing in his favor.

“Oh- Hum, I’m- I’m so sorry. I-”

“Don’t worry. I was telling your parents that I’d probably be elsewhere if I was in your shoes.”

“Right,” he trails, smiling awkwardly.

“Your face… It’s hum- a little red, are you okay?”

He shakes his hair in front of his eyes, hiding away in embarrassment, ineluctably forced to remember the last image he had of himself from this morning.

“You sure? You’re getting redder.”

Luckily, she’s cut off by Hina’s sudden burst of joy at his sight, who comes running their way under the smiles of his parents. Her grandparents are walking behind along with Choi Seoyoung.

Just as everyone is done greeting each other, the door leading to the adoption court judge opens welcoming everyone in.

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

Now reunited for good, it feels like the past three months away from each other never happened. Taehyung learns to cherish even more the moments in Hina’s company, indirectly ensuring himself he’s still a special place in her heart.

He makes time for her, from now on family will always come first. It took a couple of weeks for Hina to feel safe in his absence again and stop feeling like being him was going to be ephemeral.

On the other hand, Taehyung’s insecurities were directed towards his career, he struggled to make sense of his desires and priorities. Should I take a break? Should I quit? He still very much liked singing and writing music but one thing he was certain of, he’d need to make some changes in their interest.

One day Hina asked where you had gone and he realized all this questioning made him almost forget about you for the longest time ever.

After she had been taken away from him, he’d become aware he had no means to get in touch with you. He’d never needed your phone number because you had always been around. He’d never seen you use one when he came to think about it. He remembered the gym place you worked at but his touring abroad and busy schedule prevented him from visiting it right after you’d left.

He questioned one of the staff members in charge of human resources but the equipment had been improved and the data with any reference to you had been lost.

He just couldn’t believe it. In this day and age, he couldn’t find you. Just like this, you had vanished.

Hina was just as disheartened when he told her. She made him hate his helplessness all the more.  

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

It’s the end of the year.

Parents and children are huddled in front of the school doors, talking animatedly. Taehyung keeps his distance as he ends his chat on the phone with his mother.

“I think I got it the first fifteen times you said it,” he whines. “I’ll give you 4K HD Hina, the singer. Don’t worry. I won’t miss a thing from it. No, still nothing. I don’t think I’ll- we’ll ever see her again. Hm… She tries her best, you know, to not be sad about it but- yeah… It sucks. You should’ve come with dad. It could’ve helped her cheer up a little... I know. Make sure he waits three hours before he takes those pills again.”

The afternoon sunlight is harsh on his eyes when he takes a look and he has to turn around. He’s on his own, save the two or three people lingering outside, on their phones as well.

“You know, your brother must be very thankful to have you.”

Taehyung smiles awkwardly at his feet, shifting his weight.

“I hope she’s not disappointed because it’s just me. I hope he’s watching too, she rehearsed very seriously.” He makes his mother giggle. “I listened to her so many times… I just might as well go and sing with them.”

“You’d look cute.”

“I hope you really don’t plan on doing that. That’s not what I came here for.”

Taehyung turns around instinctively when he hears the sudden voice behind him but the sun hits his face barely letting him see anything even with his eyes covered.

He frowns, blinking as his eyes adjust and freezes.

That dress, he wonders.

The stranger gets closer until the sun is fully hidden behind and Taehyung feels blessed with an even more dazzling view when he recognizes you.

“Mom, I- I’ll call you later.” He trails, locking his phone as he can’t look away.

“Hi,” you say.

You’re here. You came.

You stare back, breaking into a lopsided smile when he’s still not replying.

His mouth opens but nothing comes out.

You wait, the time needed for you to take him in after all those months away and appreciate how he’s changed.

It’s your first time seeing him looking this elegant and formal and it suits him. His hair looks a little shorter. You’re glad to find him doing much better than when you’d left.

Your name is the first thing that he eventually lets out. “You’re here.”

“Of course,” fixing your eyes on him with a soft smile. “I made a promise, remember?”

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

Taehyung lets you lead the march after you’ve scolded him for making you two late. He finds himself glancing down at your hand holding his and at your back, staring shamelessly at the way the fabric hugs your flawless figure.

“It’s packed.” Your voice snaps him back in reality.

“Shit,” he mutters while looking around. “I promised her I’d sit in the front row.”

“This way,” you say but he doesn’t have time to react as you pull him strongly.

You find a bench on a high level.

“What are you doing? We’re all the way back now.”

“Stop whining and take my hand.” You say after climbing up the bench.

He listens and pulls himself up next to you. From this position, you can see the stage with no hindrance but it’s still quite distant.

The curtains are drawn and a group of toddlers is seen waiting behind. A few of them seem not to have moved away from their assigned position but most are either fooling around or look distressed, seeking their teachers and own parents.

Taehyung and you immediately find Hina, right in the center, standing tall and quiet as she skims the crowd. She slightly frowns when she still can’t see him after a third try until–

“Hina!”

She looks up and gazes further away where she’s heard the sudden call coming from. Her eyes widen at your sight.

You wave energetically ignoring the curious looks you’re drawing to yourself and Taehyung. He is staring as well, surprised. He looks back and feels warmth spreading in his entire being at her happiness.

“You can do this!”

Hina lifts her small arm to wave back, fighting the urge to run to you two.

“Yes, Hina! You can do this! Papa is so proud of you!”

“Thank you dad for your supporting words.” A voice suddenly announces in a microphone and laughter rises in the room making Taehyung turn a bright red while you stifle a chortle.

The voice continues, establishing silence, claiming the beginning of the show as the lights are dimmed.

He remembers to get his phone camera ready before the first notes echo. You never lose sight of Hina.

The children’s voices mingle in a surprisingly good harmony when the first lyrics are heard. You feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest as you listen to them, recognizing the lullaby you used to whisper to Hina so she’d fall asleep back during the trip.

Taehyung falters a quick second when you suddenly clasp your finger around his wrist. Making sure Hina’s still in the frame, he turns his head to look at you, noticing how emotional you’re getting.

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

Less than an hour later, the show ends to thunderous applause. Taehyung guides you to the side where children come out to join their family. You don't have a chance to think of something to say to each other when you suddenly feel small arms wrapping around your knees in a tight embrace.

You instantly smile at Hina when you see her looking up delighted and crouch down to pick her up.

“Did you miss me?” You feel her nodding against your shoulder while she hugs your neck tight. “I missed you too. So much. You did so well back there. I really loved your singing.”

She leans back to look at you and holds your face to crash kisses all over your cheek under Taehyung’s jubilant gaze.

You put her down but she quickly catches your hand in hers and hugs one of his legs.

He pats the crown of her head and looks up at you. “I’m really glad you made it.”

You share a smile but get interrupted again as a small group of children comes surrounding you three.

“You’we Hina mommy?” asks a little girl, her neat ponytail swinging behind her.

Five pairs of eyes stare up at you in total amazement as small ‘ahhs’ and ‘ohhs’ are heard.

“Hina mommy is so beautiful!” Cheers a little boy, more excited than he should be.

“I’m not-” You begin, a little taken aback, looking for help from Taehyung but he only keeps smiling. He’s taking too much pleasure in seeing you flustered.

“I know.” Hina boasts with closed eyes.

A couple of looks lingers before one of them suddenly suggests playing elsewhere.

You decide to get out of the school when Hina complains about being hungry.

She peeks over his shoulder to ask, “you coming home with daddy and Hina?”

You meet Taehyung’s expectant eyes and your chest squeezes at their seemingly hopeful looks.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I’ve somewhere to go.”

“I could drive you if you want,” he starts, tilting his head in the direction you guess his car is parked.

“Don’t bother, I-... You remember Shownu? I told him to come get me.”

They pout at the same time and it makes you chuckle lightly at their likeness though Taehyung tries not to look too affected. He’s hesitating and not so sure anymore about what he initially wanted to say.

Hina suddenly turns away from you to frown in his neck.

“What’s that?” He asks when he doesn’t understand her the first time. “You want _____ to come home with us?”

You gaze at the back of her head with a sad smile and meet his gaze in silence.

I’d like that too.  

“Seems like I was right, huh,” he snaps you out of your thoughts. “That dress looks really good on you.”

You look down, blushing a little and nod in agreement. Silence falls again between you. You don’t show any intention to go yet as Taehyung gets lost in his thought.

What are you waiting for?

“CanIgetyournumber?”

“What?” You cock your head.

“Your number? So we can see each other. I mean with Hina too.”

You nod, seemingly accepting his suggestion because the reason he mentioned is a self-evident fact. “Sure.”

You exchange your contact information and you eventually walk away much to his dismay. Hina finally decides to look back when you’re already so far away.

She frowns at your silhouette. “Hina sad.”

“Don’t be, baby,” he cups her cheek to kiss her other one. “We’ll see her again.”

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

You’re the one texting first and Taehyung’s glad you do when he’s too upset with himself for not finding the courage to do so. You agree to meet one night and make sure either of you doesn’t do anything the following day because Taehyung wants to invite you to his concert he’s currently holding in the biggest stadium of the country for the whole weekend.

When you arrive half an hour before the beginning, you’re taken to a corridor left inaccessible to fans that leads to a platform positioned in front of the stage and in the middle of the pit above the fans gathered around. You notice some curious look thrown your way.

There you get to meet the CEO of the company Taehyung works for along with some of his employees.

The show is a big hit.

You’ve felt it the first seconds after Taehyung was revealed and the audience roared impressively.

It all feels a little overwhelming but seeing him in this new light makes you feel all kinds of way. You recognize the man you’ve worked for but he seems so foreign. The aura coming from him is nothing you’ve seen before yet has you enticed through his moves, his looks, his voice.

The crowd leaves bit by bit. You remember him telling you to wait for him right where your seat was assigned to you, saying your goodbyes to his boss.

The venue is now empty, you go down the stairs and notice Taehyung down the corridor chatting with someone on his way up.

You exchange a smile.

You shorten the space between you, you watch him eye you from head to toe as his thumb grazes his bottom lip. You look away. He stops before he gets a whiff of your fragrance, eyelids heavy. You take his hand when he stretches it to you.

“I took some time cause I was showering.” He explains pulling you to the parking lot.

You climb in his car.

“You okay with eating out? We can always order something and eat at home if you’re too tired.”

He swivels the wheel with one hand, running the car out of the premises and making the powerful engine roar while looking at you. “Don’t worry about me.”

The silence between you is comfortable but the atmosphere feels heavy with secret intentions.

“I really liked the show by the way,” you say softly while keeping your eyes on the scenery passing by.

“Yeah?”

“Hm,” you turn your head towards him with a playful look. “But I still prefer Hina’s singing.”

“I have to admit, she rehearsed that song more than I ever did my whole discography.”

Dinner is nice and quiet. Taehyung isn’t fond of talking while eating and you're thankful, it allows you to enjoy the food and himself in a comfortable way.

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

You’re back in the car and driving away after you’ve agreed to go to his home and see Hina.

“I got my diploma. Last week.” You share, “I’m finally able to work as a personal trainer.”

“Really? Congratulations,” he genuinely exclaims while checking the rearview mirror. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, but for some reasons I’ve also managed to get a contract with a model agency? I don’t know where this is coming from.”

“Well, they simply saw potential in you. I mean your body is perfect- I-I- I mean you work hard to stay fit so… They’d miss out if they didn’t take you..” He trails, mentally slapping himself.

You simply smile to yourself.

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

The door unlocks and you both see Hina and the babysitter he got for the night sitting in the living-room. As soon as Hina notices you, she darts your way to crash against your legs.

“________!!”

“You’re still awake?” Wonders Taehyung, looking down not to step on her toes.

You hug and lift her in your arms after getting rid of your shoes. You greet the young girl as Taehyung takes care of paying her. You hear her letting him know she tried everything in her power to get the little girl to bed as you sit down and cover Hina with kisses and sweet words.

The door closes a little after.

“Come here. Brush your teeth, go pee and right to bed.”

“No!” She challenges with a frown at him. “I staying with ________.”

He calls her name with a strict tone making her pout and you can’t help but hug her protectively.

“Let me take care of it,” you suggest softly to him.

You carry out her nighttime routine like you used to, noticing how independent she has become which makes you yearn younger Hina.

You let her lead the march to her room, meeting Taehyung on the way and chuckles when she closes the door to prevent him from interrupting your time together.

“Do you want me to read you a book?” You smile once she settles under her covers.

She shakes her head and reaches for your hand. You understand she wants you to lie next to her. You indulge without a word.

“_______,” her voice is already filled with sleep some time after you’ve started running your fingers through her silky hair. “You staying with Hina foweve’?”

You hum back.

“Daddy likes ______.”

You look down at her, smiling faintly.

“He says it a lot. Hina likes _______ mowe.”

You squeeze her gently against you.

“________?” She’s speaking more slowly now. “Pwomise... mommy staying with Hina... and daddy... foweve’.”

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

“Sleeping?”

You noticed Taehyung’s already changed in his sleepwear. You nod while closing her door as quietly as possible. “Like a log.”

He stands up before you get the chance to get close to one of the couches and leads the way to his bedroom.

You wait at the doorstep, watching him browsing clothes inside his wardrobe while in the dark. He shuffles towards you, holding what looks like to be a silky pyjamas.

“I think this will do,” he trails. You take it, thanking him. “You can change here. I was going to open a bottle of wine. You want some?”

You shake your head.

Taehyung walks back in his room when you don't come out, holding one glass and minds turning off the lights on his way.

It takes him a couple of seconds to remark your silhouette on the other side of the curtains, standing in the balcony where you’re enjoying the weak, gentle breeze of this summer night.

He draws one curtain and immediately notices you’ve decided to do without the pants which pulls a knowing smile from him. It shouldn't surprise him. The shirt is long enough to work as a mini dress on you.

You look over your shoulder when you hear the door sliding. He’s staring longer than he’s meaning to but you find it adorable.

He comes to stand right by your side and takes a sip, looking for something to say.

“It’s so quiet.”

“You don’t like it.”

“You should put on some music.” You suggest, tilting your chin towards his phone in his pocket.

“What do you want to listen to?”

“I’m sure you got some exclusive sounds, I could brag about. It’s your chance to upgrade your raking.” You smile when you see him grin too as he goes through files. “You’re not working on anything?”

“I actually am. But it’s a secret for now. I’ve made... thirteen songs. But they’re still very rough. I don’t think we should listen to them.”

“Come on, you know I won’t judge you.”

He looks down with an embarrassed smile, frowning a little. “They’re really not good.”

“I’m not pressuring you. It’s just the two of us now.” You say softly, not breaking eye contact. “We can always find something else.”

He can’t hold your gaze long enough without feeling his face heat up. “Okay, I’ll share one or two.”

You look down at the streets when the first notes are heard, knowing he won’t want to meet your eyes.

“So where’s your manager?” You ask to ease his anxiety. You’re too aware of yourself trying not to sound too interested while keeping your gaze on the cars driving by. “I thought I’d see her at the concert.”

“Uh oh, we’re not working together anymore.” You hum in response. He explains,“conflicts of interests.”

You’re now hearing lyrics sung very softly, setting a comfortable atmosphere. “Does that mean…”

“Yeah, I’m basically managing myself.” He chuckles to himself, smiling a little at you. “I think there’s no other way if I want to live life the way I have in mind.”

You agree silently, not really knowing what to say back.

“I think she liked me. Too much.”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course I enjoyed being with her but not exactly for the same reason I think.”

The song is the only thing heard for a couple of seconds but Taehyung doesn’t seem to be minding it anymore.

“Are you and Shownu…?”

You instantly look up at him when you hear him mentioning his name and rephrase his question when he’s not finishing. “Are we a thing?” He nods slowly once. ”No. No, no, no. I mean he’s nice but... He’s not really… my type.”

He looks away, humming a quick acknowledgement. He finishes his glass. “What’s your type?”

You tilt your head away from him, smiling to yourself. His phone plays the second song.

“I wouldn't know how to describe it. I just know when I meet the person, you know?”

“Yeah, I- Me too.”

You hesitate a little before you speak again.

“Apparently,” you wait for him to look at you to show your innocent eyes. “You like me. A lot.”  

He smiles but doesn’t flee your gaze, “who told you that?”

“I can’t reveal my source,” you turn your head away, closing your eyes. You open one to see him looking at you, amused. “I can only say it has the figure of a…  little snoring cutiekins.”

He shakes his head to himself. “Of course.”

You find yourself staring at his gorgeous-looking profile, admiring the way his perfect hair falls around his face. “So… You like spending time with me?”

“It wasn’t obvious enough?” He gets shy again.

“Honestly, I can’t recall.”

“What?” He asks with surprise. “Are you being serious?”

“I mean, I was working for you. And we weren’t always on our own. Making assumptions about these things would have been wrong on my behalf. Especially with you. I didn’t want to risk my job.”

“I see.”

He looks down at his empty glass then back up at you when he hears you take in a deep breath.

“I also didn’t want to risk never seeing you or Hina ever again.”

You can see something kindle in his dark eyes, rendering you quiet and captivated. He doesn’t seem like he’s moving but you can definitely tell you’re both getting closer and closer.

“And now?” His voice sounds hopeful.

Your eyes gaze up and down, noticing his lips barely agape. “Now?”

You almost freeze when you feel his breath fanning you delicately. You both remain stagnant for a while which seems to last indefinitely, keeping yourselves apart from each other and foreign from what is to come if you were to give in to those tacit, forbidden desires.

Taehyung can feel his heart beating so vividly at the prospect of tasting your lips. You’re right there. Why is he suddenly feeling so bold? Why is he hesitating?

“_____-”

You don’t allow him to finish and choose to be the one to take the plunge.

The kiss is timorous at first, gentle, barely touching, yet ignites, as intimacy settles, a submerging feeling that diffuses into your two beings.

He’s the first to moan, you to grab onto him, each demanding more of that taste you can’t do without now that you’ve quickly come to like it.

You force yourself out of rapture with reluctance, testing the waters and it only draws him back in like a magnet, quietly surrendering to what you started.

His skin is soft against your face but his arms are strong around your back as they secure you against his chest. His scent overwhelms you, almost in a smothering way but it doesn’t feel wrong. It’s simply foreign. You’ve never got to smell so much of him this long, this strongly. You eventually moan in response.

Taehyung pushes his face harder against yours as a result, tilting your heads. He’s euphoric and he can feel it in his stomach, in his heart, in yours the longer he keeps you rooted against his body, sensing them pulsate in unison, frenzied.

You push back, blindly guiding him to one of the two reclining chairs he got settled for whenever good weather presents itself. He lets himself fall down but not too quickly, not if it means he’d have to break apart from you. You can feel him grip the back of your thighs and have your body straddling his.

You notice his mouth reaching again for yours when you eventually pull away for air. He allows you some respite, watching dazed as you rest your forehead against his, smiling to yourself a little.

When you open your eyes, you stare down at your hand beneath which his chest is heaving with desire.

You feel one of his hands reaching for your hip, under his borrowed shirt. Your eyes fall close again and your breath gets caught in your throat once spasms begin taking over your lower region because of the closeness of his touch.

“You okay?” His voice is barely above a whisper and you yearn for more of that intimacy.

You let out a shaky breath you weren’t aware of holding. “It felt good.”

His fingers squeeze you comfortingly. You meet his eyes and your core tightens on its own, hard. It’s dark out here and in spite of that you can see he’s craving you. So badly.

He drags his bottom lip between his teeth, impatiently.

Fuck.

“Kiss me, _______... Please.”

You stare back, fascinated by so much beauty and yearning. Your mouth falls agape and his eyes instantly glance down.

You chuckle lightly, “if someone saw us right now. You’d be in so much trouble.”

“I don’t fucking care.” He replies immediately, grabbing onto the nape of your neck. Your lips remain at a hair breadth from his now.

You never thought your self-control to be that easily challenged, you want to laugh at yourself. Who would’ve thought?

You poke your tongue to lick his bottom lip looking so inviting, leading him to capture your mouth in a deep kiss. You weave your fingers into his smooth locks, tugging them at the first caress of his tongue around yours.

Yes, you instantly think, fuck them all. This is what matters.

Your other hand takes his off your neck to have it latch on one of your breasts. He’s closing it gently around at the touch of it.

You break the sloppy kiss to trail wet pecks along his jaw and beneath his ear. You hastily unbutton the shirt. “Put your hands on me, Tae.”

He slides an arm around the small of your back at the sight of your bare torso for him to feast on and guides your crotch to push down against his.

Your heart suffers another sudden fit of palpitation at the feeling of his arousal pressing promisingly where you need it the most. His mouth is unsparing against your skin, kissing, licking, sucking it until it has you yielding to your own needs.

Taehyung stops and pants icy, hot air where his tongue wetted you at the feeling of your hips rocking with lustful urges.

He leans back on the chair, head thrown back with his eyes closed, relishing the delightful motions of your body.

“Oh… Fuck…” His nails dig in your ass the more you keep easing tension out of his hard shaft.

You tilt forward, closer, never stopping your sensual dance and he feels it. He gazes up at you under heavy lids, admiring the beautiful view of his shirt open on your naked chest, skin still moist with his saliva, nipples pointing enticingly.

He feels lightheaded.

You comb your hair back to allow yourself a view of the splendor that is Taehyung turned on.

You let out a small groan at the unexpected twitch of his cock. By now, you’re sure you’ve made an embarrassing mess of your panties and you’re also certain he can smell it.

You watch him reach for one of your breasts to suck on the sensitive nipple. You frown down at him, moaning as quiet as you can. He cranes his neck to lick his way up yours to your ear.

“You look great in my clothes.” You smile at his whisper.

“I want to see you too.”

He fulfills your wishes quickly, pulling the back of his tee-shirt above his head, serving you the tantalizing image of his muscular arms and shoulders. You bite your lip, sharing a smile and your hips pick up in pace.

You wrap your arms around his neck, cradling his head to your chest, while he hugs you to him tightly, looking into each other’s eyes. You’re both growing desperate.

“I want you so bad,” he can hear the hopelessness in your voice and it has him oozing more in his briefs. He never thought he’d ever hear you say those words to him. However, he hates how it reminds him of his neglect in equipping himself for the occasion. He never planned any of it.

He’s certain he doesn’t want to put an end to your bliss, not when you’re on top of him, ready to give yourself, not never.

Taehyung mouths at your cleavage, listening to the plethora of pleading escaping you the longer you keep rubbing yourselves together and struggles not to give in already.

The fresh breeze is long forgotten now, it feels hot and sweaty against his body but you’ve passed your point of no return. He’s felt your body becoming tense, seeking the peak of pleasure.

You manage to grunt in between gasps. “... Close…”

“Yeah?” He wonders quietly, trying to keep you on your stimulus.

You furrow your brow, seeing him gazing back with so much adoration it catches you unawares, triggering intense pleasure washing over you in waves. He helps muffling you, comforting your shaking body.

The forceful press of his erection overstimulates you in good pain. Your arms are tight around his shoulders, helping you root yourself while the final tremors wear off.

You don’t want to move away. He doesn’t want to let go either.

He reluctantly moves his arms only when he feels you trying to lean back. He breaks into a shy chuckle but you capture his lips in a needing kiss. You’re quickly out of breath.

“You’re shaking,” he trails softly. You weren’t even aware of it, lost again in his mesmerizing looks. “Was it okay?”

You nod subtly, cupping the back of his head to bring your faces closer. “Yeah… You?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You answer his gentle kiss. “Let’s go inside.”

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

You wake up alone in the gigantic bed, almost engulfed in the mess of sheets and thick covers. Yes, even in summer they’re of use, if you get to spend a night in his bedroom.

Your mind is fuddled, partly because of the short night you had but it’s also quick to remember flashes of it, having you musing on them with a blushing face.

You sit up and locate his tee-shirt, his borrowed shirt, your panties, his briefs thrown across the floor and your abashed smile comes again.

You’re walking down the corridor and can’t shake away the strangeness of it now that you’re seeing his home in broad daylight many months after, not as his bodyguard but as you. You stop before either Taehyung or Hina can notice your presence and take your time watching them be around each other, the way it was meant this whole time.

Your gaze travels from Hina’s back facing you to him and you mindlessly begin biting your lips, gawking at him working in the kitchen, attending to her needs and just being the best person for her. His messy hair and bare chest are a bonus.

He’s a natural. Your chest tightens at the sight of him and at the thought of it.

A heavy sigh escapes you.

“Mind joining us?”

You get startled by his voice and find them looking at you with big smiles. You shake your head to yourself.

Hina is elated raising her arms in the air from her seat for you to indulge into a tight hug. You don’t forget to kiss her cheek, unable to keep yourself from grinning from ear to ear at her sudden burst.

You sit on the stool across her where a bowl of rice and a full glass of orange juice have been placed. She can’t take her eyes off of you. You mind the frying pan he’s holding as he shakes a fried egg on top of the rice.

“‘Morning you,” he trails in a deep voice. He swiftly steals a kiss and walks away naturally.

You remain stunned a couple of seconds, processing the sudden gesture until you find Hina stifling a titter in her small hands.

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Monster - Part 2

AO3 Link

Characters: Commander Fox (Main), Commander Wolffe, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, Commander Stone, Corrie Medic Triage (OC).

Summary: Fox deals with the aftermath of his actions, unsure as to whether his brothers can forgive him.

Warnings: 16+, swearing, mentions of death.

Word Count: 3.5k

Part 1 here

Author’s Notes: I've been agonising over this chapter for far longer than necessary so please take it from me. Hopefully it's not complete gibberish. Feedback is appreciated as always, it's my first time writing such prominent clones all as proper characters in a fic so would be great to know what went well and where I can improve! This fic ends with this chapter but the ending leaves it open for imagination, if anyone has any cool thoughts for what may happen my inbox is always open to discuss further! Fic is below the cut, enjoy 😊.

When Fox next came around he was on the cheap sofa in his office. The rigid object making his back stiff, he must’ve been out for a while. He groaned as he attempted to sit up. He felt weak, his entire body sore and sensitive as he shuffled about.

“Welcome back, sunshine.” Stone greeted him while Triage appeared and started poking at him. Stone must’ve relieved Thorn from Fox babysitting duty. The thought made the Commander groan.

“How you feeling, boss?” The medic questioned as he started shining a small light into his eyes.

“Shit” he replied truthfully. “What happened?”

“You had a breakdown, a bad one.” The matter-of-fact bedside manner of the Guard’s chief medical officer was something Fox usually favoured, except when he was on the receiving end of it of course.

“Oh”

“It’s lucky Thorn found you when he did.” Triage chided while tapping away at his Datapad. His clean-shaven face focused as he went about the task. “You’ve got a visitor by the way”

“Hey vod” the gruff voice was followed by an even gruffer Commander strolling into view. What was Wolffe doing here?

“Thorn called.” Hm apparently he’d asked his question aloud.

Fox hadn’t seen Wolffe in months, he was always away on missions and rarely got down time when his Jedi had to return to Coruscant. His scar still stood out prominently against his tanned skin, but it looked better each time he saw him again, like it was slowly settling in to being a part of him. His armour was tattered, the grey paint scratched and chipped while the white plastoid was covered in the dirt of battle.

“Well I’m fi-“

“Don’t try it mir’sheb. I know what happened.” Fox flinched. Wolffe’s tone was flat when he spoke, his face unreadable and despite being one of the eldest of their batch, Fox felt very vulnerable under his little brother’s gaze.

As cadets and during command training, their batch had always been close, but Fox could confidently call Wolffe his best friend out of the lot. Their competitive nature pushed them to always be the best, their dry humour so cutting that only the other could truly understand it for what it was. Both of them were blunt, but over the years, the war had moulded them slightly differently. Where Fox was hardened and distant from his time on Coruscant, surprisingly, some of Wolffe’s ragged edges to his personality had softened. Not really noticeable if you didn’t know him from before, but Fox chalked it up to the friendship and mentoring of his wise Jedi and also his position as a Commander. Wolffe had lost his entire battalion early on in the war and Fox had held his heartbroken vodas he swore he would never let anything come between him and his men ever again. From that point on, Wolffe had gotten to know each member of his squad personally, always ensuring that they knew that despite his hard exterior, he’d always be there for them if they needed it.

Despite all this and how well Fox knew his brother, all that knowledge was doing nothing for him in his current situation. Wolffe knew that he’d killed another clone, yet he hadn’t lashed out yet. Was he just waiting until they were alone? The tension in the air threatening to smother them with each second that passed. Fox wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” Triage announced before dragging a worried looking Stone out behind him.

Fox didn’t say anything, he just waited for the onslaught from his younger brother. He was sporting his signature frown which could mean a hundred different things.

“Before we even get into this, I just need you to know that we don’t hate you, Fox. We’ll always love you, you di’kut.” Wolffe’s voice finally carried some emotion now that they were alone. It held a mixture of things, brotherly frustration at Fox’s self-loathing, a fear for finding out things he might not want the answer to and the smallest twinge of betrayal for what Fox had done. But among the rest of it, among the words said, there was love. Fox huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Beats me as to why”

“We’re family. We don’t need a reason. We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

Silence lingered between them as Fox finally found the courage to speak about the elephant in the room.

“I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t mean to.” His voice was faint, almost like if he said it any louder it’d all be real.

“I know ori’vod”

Fox finally launched into an explanation of what happened. His chest constricting further and further, threatening to rob his body of air as he pushed himself to get the story out. His hands shook in fear of what his closest brother would think of him, of what he’d done. Wolffe hadn’t spoken during the entire story, resigned to just watching him from his perch on his desk. Fox was panicking.

After what felt like the longest silence of Fox’s life, the younger Commander exhaled roughly, his bare hands rubbing at his scar out of habit as he processed the information. “You told Rex this?” Fox was shocked that out of everything to ask, that that was his question. The Guard Commander shook his head.

“Well, we better get him over here” Fox jumped out of his seat and placed a hand over his brother’s comm link.

“Kriff Wolffe, the poor guy has suffered enough. Last thing he needs is me begging for forgiveness for something he can’t forgive. I killed one of our own, one of his last few best friends. He hates me. And I really don’t blame him.”

“Maybe so, but he deserves to hear the truth from you. Whether or not he believes it is up to him.” Reluctantly, he let his arm go and stalked back over to the sofa. “I’ll comm Cody, he’s over there with him now.”

“Didn’t realise you were both planet side.” Fox grunted out, he could really do with some caff, his body was exhausted.

“The 104th were on their way back since Plo had some Jedi stuff to do, we touched down this afternoon. As for the 212th, they finished their last mission and once they heard about everything that’d been going on, General Kenobi requested they come back to help out. Though I have a feeling that was Cody wanting to check in on Rex.”

Fox wanted to ask how Rex was, but the searing guilt that burned in his chest couldn’t bear to ask the question. So he decided to check on some people who potentially hated him a smidge less, only a smidge though.

“Have you heard from the others?”

Wolffe nodded and went on to tell him about what the rest of their batch had been up to. Gree had recently been assigned to General Yoda, who he was absolutely terrified of. Fox didn’t blame him, the Jedi was extremely powerful for someone so pint sized, he’d also heard that he had a wicked sense of humour which would definitely stress Gree out, much to the amusement to the rest of his batch. Ponds was getting on nicely with Mace, they’d recently had a successful campaign near the outer rim and were due back on Coruscant soon. The eldest of their batch, Bly, was doing well too. Apparently Wolffe thought he had the hots for his General as Bly apparently refused to shut up about how amazing and strong and caring she was. Fox wasn’t sure if he was messing with him or not, but the thought brought a small smile to his face nonetheless. Trust Bly to fall in love with his Jedi General.

“What about you? How’s life in the Corrie Guard?” Wolffe asked.

Where could he even begin. Fox never offloaded about his problems onto anyone, except maybe his fellow Commanders in the Guard who he shared the burden with. Wolffe wouldn’t understand. A part of him also wanted to be the dutiful big brother and not place any worries or fears onto his vod’ika.

“Not much to report, same as always” he wasn’t lying at least. It was easier this way, for them not to know. They could keep thinking he was safe away from the battlefield. Their hopes in this war were already pretty low, they didn’t need to know about the horrors that lurked away, hidden among the senate corridors and the low levels of Coruscant.

——————————

Anxiety gripped at Fox’s chest as he paced a hole into his metal office floor. Waiting for Cody and Rex made him feel as if he was waiting for a death sentence. He thought of all the ways he could potentially escape but he knew Wolffe would be all over him. The 104th Commander always was a fan of tough love and things didn’t get tougher than this.

There was a slight commotion outside which pulled the both of them to attention.

Rex came storming in, his face set like stone, an angry frown marring his features and deepening the creases in his forehead. Once he set his sights on Fox nothing could deter him. “Rex, wait!” Wolffe shouted but he couldn’t stop him in time. Rex’s fist slammed into Fox’s nose with a sickening crack, sending the Commander sprawling backwards, catching himself on his desk as his nose started gushing blood.

Cody ran in from nowhere and locked Rex’s arms behind his back, trying to calm their little brother. “Rex, will you just listen to him.” He shouted down his ear while Fox recovered from the blow, cradling his now broken nose as Wolffe came to his side to help him back up.

“Why? Why should I listen? He didn’t listen to Fives!” Rex screamed back as he writhed in Cody’s arms. His words cut into Fox, making him grimace.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Rex.” Fox apologised with a burning sincerity, but it only deepened the frown on Rex’s face.

“I don’t want your apologies.” The Captain shouted back, gone was his usual professional composure. Right now he was a broken man who’d lost one of the last few people he’d let get close to him. There was no rank in this room right now, they were just a group of hurting vod, trying to pick up the pieces.

Rex spat his words out at Fox with a look that could kill, he probably wanted it to. He looked like he wanted Fox to hurt as much as he was right now. “Maker, I know Palpatine had you wrapped around his finger, I just didn’t realise how much.” Ouch.

“Rex” Cody reprimanded, his Marshall Commander voice coming out as he tried to defuse the situation. The Captain’s face was still masked in hurt and anger, but he did back down slightly after his verbal blow. “The past couple days has been hard for you vod, we know that and we’re here for you. But we wouldn’t be asking you to listen to Fox right now if we didn’t think it was worth it. Please, just give him a chance.” Once he finished, he nodded at Fox to signal him to get started. He took a deep breath and readied himself to try and explain the unexplainable.

“I know it sounds ridiculous but what happened back there, It wasn’t me” he started, and Rex just scoffed, still struggling against Cody’s hold. “Look, I can’t explain it. But I set that gun to stun, I swear to you, Rex. I know you all think I’m some cold, order-following droid but I would’ve brought him… I would’ve brought Fives, in for questioning. You- you have to believe me.” Fox pleaded, blood still trickling down his face from his broken nose. He wasn’t their usual, sarcastic, caffeine deprived big brother. No, Fox was a complete mess as he tried to reason with Rex. He couldn’t bare his brothers thinking that he did this willingly, that he’d turn on his own kind with just a simple order.

“What do you mean it wasn’t you?” Rex’s gaze was still unsure, but he’d never seen Fox like this before. He looked desperate, much like Fives had.

“I- I blacked out. One minute we were moving in and as soon as I saw Fives, and I know this sounds crazy, it’s like something else took over. I was just watching from the sidelines.” Fox gave an exasperated sigh as he tried to explain himself.

“Like something was controlling you?” Rex asked, the cogs in his brain turning as he waited for a reply. Fox just gave an ashamed nod and dreaded realisation dawned on Rex’s face.

“Maybe Fives wasn’t crazy” he said it as barely a whisper but with the silence in the room they all managed to hear it.

“What do you mean?” Cody questioned as he finally let his vod’ika go, content that he wasn’t going to assault the Guard Commander further. Rex used the freedom to go and lock the door to Fox’s office.

“What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room, understand? No one can know, not our vode, not your Jedi, nobody.” The three of them nodded.

“Before he died, Fives was trying to explain what was going on to General Skywalker and me, he said that there’s something in our heads that could make us do whatever someone wanted… Even kill the Jedi.” Wolffe and Cody’s eyes widened at the thought, finding it impossible to even comprehend hurting their Generals who they cared for deeply.

“And if, if, he’s right about that, well, he said the Chancellor is in on the whole thing. That he set him up. And as insane as it sounds, that could explain why he sent Fox, of all people, to hunt him down.” Rex finally spared him a glance that wasn’t filled with complete hate, there was a slight bit of pity in for good measure instead.

“You’re saying that the Chancellor has some sort of control over me?” Fox replied. The colour draining from his face as he considered the option.

“I’m saying… it’s a possibility. After seeing what happened with Tup, what you’re saying happened to you doesn’t seem far off. He had no idea why he killed General Tiplar. Said he didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Okay hold on, so you’re trying to tell us that Fives uncovered a plot by the Chancellor which involves all of the clones having something in their heads which allows them to be controlled, with the likely purpose of it being to kill the Jedi?” Wolffe asked with the hopes that he might wake up from this weird dream he found himself in.

“Pretty much” Rex replied.

“Ozik” Cody cursed. “And you believe him? Fives? You sure he didn’t just lose it?” The Marshal Commander needed this final confirmation from his brother.

“I-” Rex exhaled and dragged a gloved hand down his face “I think I do. I wasn’t sure before but with what Fox is saying, it’s all a bit too much of a coincidence. I believe him enough to at least look into what he was talking about. He wouldn’t have risked everything he did for nothing.”

Fox tried to keep breathing as the conversation went on. Controlled. A plot to kill the Jedi. Maker this was too much. Surely they had to be wrong. But then he remembered his shit show of a life, the things that the chancellor made him do, things he’d never do willingly if he had the choice like a true sentient being. Maybe it wasn’t such a faraway reality. He repressed the shiver that threatened his body.

“You do realise we’ll get executed on the spot if we’re found looking into this. This is treason. If what you’re saying is true, then it sounds like they went to some pretty serious lengths to keep Fives from outing them.” Wolffe added, ever the pessimist. Not that Fox blamed him, they were moving into dangerous territory with this talk.

“You three can walk away, but I owe this to Fives and Tup.” Rex said, conviction written all over his face.

“I’m in” Fox announced as he wiped most of the blood away from his nose and mouth. The ache from his broken nose setting in as the adrenaline from his and Rex’s confrontation started wearing off.

Wolffe and Cody shared a glance, a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. They both shared strong bonds with their Jedi in different ways, they wanted to do everything in their power to protect them, but could they keep this a secret for long enough? Obi-Wan and Plo were very in touch with their Commander’s emotions. There was a chance they’ll figure out something was up sooner than they’d like. They would just have to work fast. Cody nodded at Wolffe, and the decision was made.

“We’re in too” Wolffe confirmed. “I don’t want any more of our brothers to die if we can help it.”

“What about Skywalker? He was with you and Fives, do we at least have him on side?” Cody asked and Rex pulled a disappointed face.

“As soon as Fives mentioned the Chancellor being involved, Anakin wrote the whole thing off… It’s just us.”

“We can work with that” Cody comforted with a hand on his little brother’s shoulder and a small smile. The Commander’s comm link started chirping and he gave them all a sorry look. “It’s the General, I better take this and head back. But we’ll catch up later.”

“79’s?” Wolffe offered. Despite none of them fancying a night out, there was no better place to get privacy than a noisy bar filled with identical faces. Cody nodded and quickly departed.

Eventually they had to call Triage back to deal with Fox’s nose. He’d done well to hide the pain during the chat between the four of them, but it had quickly started to take over his thoughts. Thankfully his CMO came armed with pain stims and for once, Fox didn’t get absolutely ripped into by the medic as this injury wasn’t a result of his own stupidity. Well, to be fair, he was sure that assessment was up for debate, especially from Rex who was talking quietly with Wolffe around Fox’s desk.

Fox poked at the metal brace and bandages on his nose, the Bacta patch under it was a squishy texture. Triage knocked his hand away like a parent would a child who was reaching for the last cookie. “Don’t touch it” he warned, and Fox moved his hands back down to his side. “Given our accelerated cell regen and the Bacta patch, you should be good to wear your helmet again by tomorrow” Fox gave his thanks to the medic by clasping his wrist in a handshake before he was left alone with his vode again.

Wolffe conveniently dipped out to use the fresher, leaving Rex and Fox alone for the first time since the incident. Fox’s heart rate sped up as he thought about it, the scenes of Fives’ death playing over and over again in his head like a horror film on repeat. That look on Rex’s face when their eyes met over Fives’ body, seared into his brain as a constant reminder of what he did.

They stared at each other from across the room, Fox was still sat on his cheap, rock solid couch while Rex was stood by his desk.

Fox couldn’t hold the eye contact; he broke it off and shifted his gaze to his hands.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. It’s not what I’m asking for, you're well within your rights to hate me. But I just want you to know that I wouldn’t hurt you like this willingly. It’s the last thing I’d ever want.” Fox broke the silence. Still not brave enough to meet Rex’s eyes, to see the disappointment and betrayal which would likely be waiting for him.

He heard some shuffling and the couch sink down slightly beside him. He dared a look over and saw Rex’s scratched leg armour.

“I don’t hate you, Fox. I know you were put in a tough situation. I know I like to think I would’ve handled it differently, but truth be told, I don’t know what could’ve happened if Fives didn't put us in that ray shield. And while I don’t want to think about it, I have a feeling someone would’ve got to him eventually. It was inevitable.” He paused and took a shuddering breath. “I just… I just need a bit of time.”

“I appreciate that, take all the time you need.” They both shared a small smile, content that they’d get past this together. There was light on the other side of this dark tunnel.

Rex really did care about Fox; he’d always looked up to him over the years. He remembers the small stuff, the words of encouragement when a training simulator went wrong, the proud look on his face when he got promoted to Captain, the many nights of drinking Thire’s rocket-fuel moonshine in Fox’s office when Rex needed to escape from the war for a few hours.

They’d be fine, time was always the best healer. Fox just hoped that they had enough time left.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 14

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1620

Warnings:  Swearing, bit of violence if you looking very closely

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

So Hi again everyone! one more chapter to go then we're on the first Avenger, I just wanna say thank you to each and everyone of you all for taking the time to sit down and read this, it means the absolute world to me! Anyways I'll shut up, enjoy chapter 14 everyone <3

Now don’t ask me how they did it, but somehow my idiots managed to open my front door without a key, if I wasn’t so pissed at them for getting into a fight for the 5th night in a row, I’d be tearing them a new one for that alone. Completely and uttered annoyed with the pair of em, I may of opened my door with a bit more force than necessary and twatted the back of it on the coat rack, not my best moment but at least nothing broke. I was fully prepared to lose my shit with both of em, but one look of them both sat at the table, covered head to toe in bruises and cuts made all my anger disappear, I can’t be mad at them when they both look absolutely exhausted.

Wordlessly I crossed the landing into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and spare clothes I kept for the boys, setting em down on the dresser just outside my room before heading off to change into my satin pyjamas. It’s times like this that make me so frustrated with them both, I know why they do what they do, they’re trying to make the world a better place in their own way, but I just wished that they wouldn’t do it in a way that put them in danger. Coming back out into the kitchen was almost like walking into a morgue, neither of them said a thing to each other whilst I was gone, the looks their faces absolutely shattered my small, minuscule heart to pieces.

It was pretty easy to see from the slumped shoulders and the way they both avoided eye contact that they were ashamed of what happened tonight, and that made me feel like the biggest piece of shit ever, I trusted these boys with my life, and I know that they would never start a fight if they didn’t have a reason for it. Hell, I didn’t care about the reason why anymore. Without saying a word to them, I went over to the sink and filled a bowl with warm water, I knew that one of em would have got the rags out already, more than likely Buck cause Steve’s short ass can’t reach the cabinet…I’m joking I love him really, but he’s soooo fucking short it’s unreal..

I’d barely had time to put the bowl on the table before Steve started to speak.

“We’re sorry Y/n…Those guys were erm..saying some pretty messed up things about you and I couldn’t help it, I saw red and lost my temper. Be angry with me, not a Buck he was just lookin’ out for me”.

The sigh that left my body couldn’t be helped, as much as I love Steve he couldn’t lie to save his life, though normally I wouldn’t put it past him to start a fight over me, the way Buck reacted made it pretty clear that the hot-headed love of my life started this one, the sharp look he gave for Steve was about as subtle as a sneeze in a silent library. The sudden ache that settled over my chest wasn’t foreign to me one bit, it happened every time I looked at Bucky, as much as I wanted to tell him how I felt I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea, he loves me like a sister and I should be happy with that, I’d rather have that than nothing at all…

“Steve…it’s not that, it’s the fact that you guys would start a fight over something so silly, I love you both to the moon and back, but I don’t care about what people say about me, I’m upset that you put yourselves in danger over me. I’m not worth the trouble it would cause and after the shit I’ve done, it’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

Bucky was silent the whole time, at times he looked like he wanted to disagree but a look from Steve shut it down, we all fell into a comfortable silence after that, which for the 3 of us is pretty fucking weird considering Steve and I are normally annoying the hell outta Bucky, what can I say me, and Steve have amazing singing voices. I stole a quick look at the pair of them, considering they both looked like shit it was actually a very difficult choice about which idiot I should clean up first, then I remembered that Steve has the immune system of an asthmatic grandma, so I dunked his cut-up hands in the warm water a little bit harder than I meant to, but I’d be lying if I said the squeal he let out wasn’t funny.

It really didn’t take me long to get him cleaned up at all, then again I do this like 8 times a week with the moron, you’d think after about 10 split lips the kid would learn his lesson, but apparently not cause he’ll be back at it in the morning. I need to start charging him for medical supplies, I’m practically a hospital at this point. As Steve stood up to leave, he paused and looked towards me with his sad puppy eyes, and I’m no monster so of course I gave him a hug, thank god he’s not as short as when were kids or his face would be right in my chest region, I don’t think an accidental motorboat is on his list of top 10 things to do. With one final look from Buck, Stevie boy took his clothes and went into the spare room, leaving us both to talk which could take a while cause we’re both stubborn asses. Que the awkward silence….

“I am sorry Doll…I just couldn’t stand back and hear those assholes talk about you like that. I love ya too much for that…”

Okay ouch, the sister zoning wasn’t necessary Barnaby.

I knew in my heart I meant every single word he said, Bucky was never the one to start the fights unless it was over his family and I understand that I do, if I were in the same position I’d do the sae for them. The dejected sigh that left me wasn’t missed by him, I chose to ignore his reaction to it and moved closer to him, the cuts on his hands were a little deeper than Steve’s, not that it stopped me from slamming his hands into the hot water as a tiny bit of revenge. Because I’m such a nice person, I chose to ignore the hiss of pain and glare directed at me from my good ol’ Bucky boy, plus I was focusing on cleaning his cuts.

“Buck…I don’t need you to say sorry, I understand why you did it, I just hate that you can be so careless about your own safety, what if you get into a fight whilst I’m working, and something happens? I’d never be able to forgive myself that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, I love you and Steve so so much, but it hurts me to see you do this to yourselves….”.

The time we spent sat together was lost to me, Bucky didn’t say anything after that and left me to clean his hands whilst he got lost in his thoughts, not that I minded. It’s the times like these that help me realise just how much pressure he puts on himself, it’s like he has to be the one to hold up the weight of the world, but he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have to do it by himself and it breaks my heart. But I wished that he didn’t tilt his head down when he’s feeling sombre and sad because I can’t see his fucking face, it kinda makes cleaning his cuts a bit hard ya know ? Reluctantly I stood up and went back to the sink, the rag I used to clean his hands was beyond filthy at this point and I don’t really fancy wiping ouch juice all over his face, by the time I’d turned back around Buck had his head in his hands.

You know it’s bad when he’s like this, Buck never lets anyone see just how much stress he’s under, the only other person that’s ever seen him in this state is Steve, I moved back over to him and placed the rag back down on the table, my main focus now being cheering up my Bucky. As it turns I didn’t have to do much, once he saw my shadow in front of him, his head lifted automatically as his eyes searched mine, the level of exhaustion in his eyes was almost enough to make me cry, I couldn’t help the hand that reached out to cup his cheek, nor the other hand that began to run through his hair. It was almost like I put him under a spell, Buck’s eyes closed in relief as his head fell forward to rest on my upper stomach, at some point his looped his arms around my waist to pull me closer to him, I couldn’t help but pepper the top of his head in small kisses to try and cheer him up.

This is the part of him I love the most, the moments where he isn’t afraid to let his guard down and for once let someone help him, to take the burden off his shoulders and relax for a while, even if he doesn’t love me the way I love him, I still wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He has and always will be my home….nothing can or will change that.

And that's Number 14 done and dusted, let me know what you all think, thank you for reading!

All My Love,

Rose xxx

@purelydarling

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lads

Part 1/???? 3K words, no warnings :)

 So I’ve created an audience on Tumblr for the Number Lads, and I’ve happened to got 3K words here for them. So! Here are the origins of the Number Lads! More to follow.... eventually....

For future reference:

Sevenset = ARC-7777 = ARCBoiiiii

Do-si-do = CT-2222 = Double Trouble

Trees = CT-3333 = Green Bean

Loops = CT-8888 = Loopy

Sixes = CC-6666

Double Trouble: i meant it as a joke sevens

ARCBoiiiiii: i didn’t

ARCBoiiiii: what you think you can drop that information on me and i wont use it??? how long have you known me

Double Trouble: okay okay but if you die i’m not mourning you

Loopy: ouch

Green Bean: how do you have this much time to comm us when you’re at ARC training, sevenset

Green Bean: who changed my name

Double Trouble: :3c

ARCBoiiiii: what you don’t like it? thought it suited you, trees

Green Bean: why did i let you guys talk me into this club…

ARCBoiiiii: we’re awfully convincing that way

Double Trouble: you felt compelled

Double Trouble: it’s the numbers gang bond

Green Bean: it was not that

ARCBoiiiii: was it loops space buns

ARCBoiiiii: i bet it was loops space buns

Loopy: what

Double Trouble: they are adorable

Loopy: oh kriff you, don’t you have arc stuff to do, sevenset?

ARCBoiiiii: ehhhhh my next training block doesnt start for another 4min, so....

Double Trouble: well i gotta run, we’re going hyperspace in a min or so--remember the meeting next week!!! be there or be square!

ARCBoiiiii: we dont have any perfect squares yet ;-;

Green Bean: Yeah, yeah, i’ll see you weirdos eventually

Loopy: stay alive out there

Double Trouble: especially the guy who wants to recruit Commander Death over there

ARCBoiiiii: I’ll be fiiinnnne whats the worst that can happen

Green Bean: i mean. his name. is DEATH?

ARCBoiiiii: ..... a fair point.... i guess you’ll just have to wait until the next numbers gang meeting huh :)

Loopy: maker help you

----

Sevenset was uncharacteristically quiet that day during second meal, but only because his mouth was continually occupied with food, not talking. He was on the clock today.

“Hey, Sevenset, are you inhaling those rations, or…?”

He looked over at Buster next to him, quickly swallowing his food. “I just got something I wanna do,” he said, taking a glug of water.

“Something so important you’re taking one of the few unscheduled breaks we have to do it? Okay then.”

Sevenset cleaned the rest of his tray, flashing a grin at Buster as he stood up. “Don’t wanna be late. Got a meeting with death.” He really couldn’t resist the pun. Honestly.

Buster’s eyebrow raised skeptically. His friend next to him, Sketch, asked, “Is this about some new way you’ve managed to piss off the trainers? Because yeah, I’m sure Alpha could arrange a meeting with death for you if you… I dunno, painted pink hearts on his armor.”

“Amazing idea,” Sevenset admitted, his brain automatically figuring out where the pink paint was (he’d have to make it), where Alpha-17’s armor lived (not sure on that one), and how possible it would be to sneak in and out to accomplish the task (a challenge). “However, no, not this time. See you guys later!” He deposited his tray and utensils in the proper area to be cleaned, then jogged out of the mess hall.

Kamino’s winding halls and levels really weren’t efficient--but compared to Coruscant… he couldn’t really argue. A healthy stretch of time in the Guard had given him plenty of tools to make his way around inefficient, crowded, twisty places like this. It didn’t take long before he reached where he was going. Aside from the resident Rancor Battalion, there were often troopers on Kamino from various groups throughout the GAR. They stayed out of the way of those training in separate wings of Tipoca City, and right now, Sevenset was very keen to speak to a visiting commander.

He slipped into a lift with two other troopers--visiting, by the looks of their battered armor. Luckily, they were too engrossed in their own conversation to really notice him, despite his rather colorful tattoos that usually made him stick out. But it was for the best this time. He got off at the level above and started down the hall, reading door labels as he went, searching….

Ah. Here. He pushed a button to open the door, but it was locked. Not entirely surprising, but… now what? If his internal clock was still fairly accurate, he had about ten minutes before he needed to be back for the next training block.

“It’s locked for a reason.”

He whirled, his body almost automatically snapping to attention at the low voice behind him.

Commander Sixes (AKA Commander Death, remember) surveyed him with a disturbing lack of expression. He was tall, for a clone. Probably closer in height to some of the Alphas than to Sevenset. His black armor stuck out like green plants on Coruscant in the brightly lit halls of Tipoca City, making him somehow look even bigger. Even more unnerving, he still had his helmet on, the visor lit with a dull green light, and fixed pointedly on him. Sevenset hated not being able to read people...

Sevenset hadn’t planned for this. Come to think of it, a lot of the “plan” he’d concocted relied on a few assumptions, and all of them seemed to be fading. One of them had been that he would have no problem talking to a CO--he never had before. “Sir, hi--hello--I was uhm…” He managed to clamp down on the first coherent thought to float through his head, so instead of blurting, “You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be,” he stumbled upon, “It’s a nice room you’ve got. From the outside,” and immediately wanted to bash his head in on the wall.

The commander’s helmet never moved, just kept staring him down. “Get out of my way,” he finally growled, taking a step forward.

Against all better judgement, Sevenset stood his ground, although he squished himself a bit closer against the door. “Yessir, of course, just--one thing, really quick thing, I promise.” When the commander didn’t kill him or rip his arms off or something, he went on, finally finding his words were cooperating with him. “So, you’re CC-6666, naturally. I happen to be CT-7777--Sevenset, I’m Sevenset. There’s a group of us, see, sir--with the repeating numbers, and we have little meetings--”

“No.”

“--is what I thought you’d say, but just--” he paused, fumbling a bit to pull a piece of flimsi out of his pocket. “There’s the frequency, there’s the date of the next meeting,” he said, holding out the flimsi scrap. “I’m sure the other boys would love it if you dropped by.” The end of his final sentence shriveled into an undignified squawk when Commander Sixes reached out, grabbed his collar, and shoved him bodily out of the way of the door.

“Get back to training before I have some of my boys drag you there,” he said, entering the door’s access code.

“I’ve got six minutes--”

The door slid shut in his face. Well. He was still alive. So… that counted as a success. Perhaps not a resounding success, but a success. He stood in stunned silence for a moment, still clutching the scrap of flimsi in his hand, wondering if he should stick it in the door so the commander would find it later. However, he had no trouble believing the commander’s threat that his men literally would drag him back to the ARCs if he told them to, so it was probably best not to linger.

Sevenset jumped to attention for the second time that day when the door slid open again. He just stood there, dumb, as Commander Sixes stepped out, plucked the scrap of flimsi from his fingers, then returned to his room with about as much ceremony as befitted dumping pebbles out of a boot.

Oh, yeah. Definitely a success.

---

The first thing Sixes did once back in the privacy of his albeit temporary rooms was remove the top half of his armor, only leaving the gauntlet with his wrist comm. Turning his attention to said wrist comm, he entered Colt’s number. There was a short wait before the other commander answered it.

“Everything alright over there, Sixes, sir?”

“It’s about one of the ARC candidates.”

There was a pause. Understandable. The ARCs weren’t supposed to be in this wing of Tipoca City. “Which one?” His tone suggested he already had his suspicions.

“Calls himself Sevenset.”

He heard inaudible muttering on the other end. “What’d he do this time?” Sixes had suspected as much.

“Quite a pair he’s got on him, hasn’t he?”

Colt laughed dryly. “Yeah, sure. Hopefully, he’s worth the trouble.”

Sixes looked over the scrap of flimsi in his other hand. “Yeah… I think he might be.”

~+~

Leaning back in his pilot’s chair, Do-si-do watched the little light on the ship’s holoprojector, waiting for the others to join the meeting. He always took the calls in his ship. It was more private than his bunk most of the time, and frankly, the audio quality was so much better than on the hand-held devices.

Trees was the first to join, punctual as usual.

“Hey, Trees,” he smiled.

“Have you heard from Sevenset yet?” he asked.

Do-si-do shook his head, combing strands of his bleached curls out of his face. “Nah. Figure he’s been too busy. Graduation was supposed to be a couple days ago, right?”

“Three, yes.”

Loops’ holographic miniature appeared beside Trees’. He looked exhausted, but awake. His long hair was down from his signature twin buns, and he leaned his chin on his hand, fingers resting just over the infinity symbol tattoo on his cheek.

“Loops,” Trees greeted him.

“Mph.”

“What happened to you?” Do-si-do asked.

“Supply shipment,” Loops sighed. “General Koon’s having skeleton crews tonight so we can get some sleep.” After a stifled yawn, he asked, “Is Sevenset dead yet?”

Do-si-do smiled. “Trees asked the same thing, and I have no idea.”

As if on cue, a third hologram popped up on the ship’s control panel. Sevenset beamed at them, his new ARC pauldrons proudly on display. “Guess who’s not dead, fellas!”

“Hey hey! Look at you, ARC-7777,” Do-si-do grinned, leaning forward in his seat. “How’s it feel?”

“I really love the kama, gotta be honest.” He was only visible from the waist up, but they could see him sway his hips back and forth, clearly enjoying his new gear.

“Show us the paint,” Loops demanded, as firmly has he could demand it in his half-asleep state.

Sevenset obliged, setting down his holoprojector--his personal one, now he had graduated--and stepping back so more of his body was visible. The paint job was fairly similar to his previous armor--the sharp edges, the circle on his right shoulder bell holding four stylized sevens--but the new armor on his chest and arms had forced some alterations. They could see just about all of the kama now, the bright red sevens standing out against the dark grey fabric. Predictable, maybe, but still eye-catching. That was Sevenset’s main goal, if it weren’t already clear from the tapestry of tattoos on his bald head that ran down his neck under his blacks, and the several glinting piercings in his ears and nose.

“It’s definitely you.” Trees, bluntly.

“They let you keep the red paint, huh?” Do-si-do said. Sevenset had previously been assigned to the Coruscant Guard. After proving a bit more trouble than the Guard could take, and catching some CO’s eye, he’d been shipped back to Kamino a couple months ago to join Rancor.

“Hey, if Commander Colt can have it, I guess I can too. No one stopped me.”

Without warning, a fourth hologram appeared beside the others in front of Do-si-do’s eyes. A trooper--a big trooper, even in miniature--and in dark armor, helmet included. His brows scrunched together as he studied the person, failing to recognize them.

Sevenset did. “Commander!”

“I see Colt decided against tossing you overboard.”

Oh, no karking way. “Commander Sixes?” Do-si-do blurted.

At the same time, Loops made some unintelligible noise and suddenly disconnected, and Trees froze like a lizard when a hawk flies overhead, his eyes gone wide, one arm half-way to a salute. Frankly, Do-si-do could understand their reactions. Commander Sixes--like many of the CCs--was legendary. His wing of Star Fighters had fought through some of the toughest space battles so far, and always came out of it. As a pilot himself, Do-si-do had heard story after story about their skills. The fighter wing and the commander now wore the nickname Death, thanks to their brutal but effective tactics.

There was a brief and painfully quiet pause before the commander said, “Pride of the GAR, this lot.”

“Eh, they’ll get over it,” Sevenset shrugged, his hologram appearing to zoom in as he came closer again. “Right, Trees?” he added with a grin. Their friend was still in shock, it looked like. “Might have to tell him to relax, sir.”

The commander’s helmet turned towards Trees. “At ease. Take a breath before you pass out.”

Trees blinked, lowering his arm. “Yessir,” he said quietly, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

“I’ll try to get Loops back,” Sevenset said, a datapad appearing in his hands. Damn, ARCs really did get all the good stuff. Do-si-do still had to share a datapad with his squad of pilots.

“Shouldn’t there be more?” Commander Sixes asked.

“Of us? Yeah,” Do-si-do answered. “I guess there should be nine of us, in theory.”

“Nine or ten,” Trees said, his tone still a bit clipped.

“Ten or eleven, actually,��� Sevenset corrected, still looking at his datapad. “We don’t know if a CT designation can be all zeroes. Might have been taken out of the system, who knows.”

“It’s hard when we don’t have access to the full GAR database,” Do-si-do went on. “We have to rely on hearsay and brothers from other battalions. Sevenset and I met by chance on Coruscant.” Loops’ hologram reappeared. He looked a bit more awake now, still visibly on edge from the commander’s arrival, and with a glower on his face. “Loopy! Welcome back.”

“I hate you.”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t know he was coming either,” he defended himself. “Blame Sevenset.”

“I’m blaming both of you,” Loops said. “You told Sevenset about him, and Sevenset was stupid enough to go through with it.”

Sevenset, his attention off his datapad and back on the meeting, put a hand over his heart. “Stupid enough?” he repeated, doing his best to sound utterly wounded. “I think you mean ballsy enough.”

“He meant stupid enough,” the commander replied immediately and without emotion. “And I agree.”

Do-si-do snorted a laugh at the look of utter indignation on Sevenset’s face. Even Trees relaxed a bit more. “Okay, I can get used to having a CC around,” he grinned.

“Finally, someone with the authority to tell him off,” Loops said, expressing Do-si-do’s feelings exactly.

The recipient of their mocking pouted at them, folding his arms as best he could with his new armor. “Now I just feel unloved.”

“Why do I get the feeling Commander Fox was only too happy to get you qualified for ARC training?” the commander asked, his tone remaining impassive.

“For your information,” Sevenset said, then stopped, realizing, as they all had, that the commander had known where Sevenset had previously served. No one had told him this information. “How did you know I was in the Guard?”

They all turned to the commander. “I’m a commander. I can look anyone up. I looked you all up.”

Do-si-do leaned even farther forward in his seat, a huge smile on his face. “You have access to the full database?”

“You can find the others!” Sevenset completed, a similar smile on his face as well.

There was a pause. Do-si-do was starting to think Commander Sixes just liked the drama they created. In fact, judging by how he had yet to show his face and was wearing all black armor, it seemed Commander Death was fond of the dramatic in a few ways. “In theory, sure.”

“Yes! Oh, fantastic,” Sevenset went on, rubbing his hands together. “You can tell us where they’re stationed--”

“If they’re still alive,” Trees added in. He had a point.

“--and then we can find them!”

The commander’s helmet tilted, his expression hidden. “I’m guessing Fox declined membership,” he said.

Do-si-do snorted a gain, and Trees and Loops both smiled. They all remembered Sevenset’s story of trying to recruit Commander Fox to be number ten for their little group.

“If by ‘declined membership’ you mean, ‘shipped me out to Kamino for someone else to deal with,’ then yes,” Sevenset answered. “He declined.”

“Maybe you can ask him,” Loops said.

“Hey, yeah--”

“No.” The commander’s tone didn’t leave much room for argument, but that had never stopped Sevenset a day in his life, and Do-si-do was more than content to sit back and enjoy the show.

“But you’re his big brother, right? You can drag him into things--”

“I’m not a damn recruiter, ARC, now stand down.”

The effect was instantaneous. They all recognized a CO’s “talk back and you’ll be cleaning ‘freshers for the next month” voice. Combined with Commander Sixes’ already awe-inspiring reputation, his order shut them all up. Trees once again straightened to attention, and this time they all joined him, even Sevenset.

“Understood, sir,” he replied. Do-si-do could see the new training in him now. Sevenset wouldn’t be an ARC if he didn’t know when to drop the comic act, but the speed and discipline with which he’d done so just now was different.

The commander waited a second or two, then he nodded once. “At ease.”

They relaxed, mostly. It was hard to ignore the mood shift that had taken place. As cool as it was having a commander in the club… there were some obvious issues that needed addressing if this was going to remain a “just for fun” place.

Do-si-do found himself as the one breaking the uneasy silence. “But… you can help us find where the others are stationed, right, sir?”

The commander’s helmet dipped. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Can you do that… now?” Sevenset ventured.

The commander’s helmet tilted to one side, and it looked like he sighed. “Fine.” The others perked up. “But, I can only find their assignments, not their current locations.”

“We can work with that,” Do-si-do agreed, and the others nodded along. “Who’s writing this down?”

“I can!” Sevenset volunteered.

Trees reminded him, “Your handwriting is entirely illegible. Even to you.”

“Yes, but now I have a datapad. I can type all my notes.”

“I’m just going to start talking if you boys don’t figure it out,” the commander warned.

“Okay, okay, fine, Trees can copy it.”

Trees’ organization skills would always beat out Sevenset’s anyway. Maybe ARC training had fixed that, though. Trees shifted around, grabbing what he needed, then looked up and nodded when he was ready.

The commander’s helmet tipped down to look at something--presumably a datapad--as he spoke. “CT-4444 is with the Marines under Bacara. Probably has limited contact availability depending on the mission. Infrequent leave.” Do-si-do’s eyebrows raised, and he glanced at Sevenset and Loops. They hadn’t been expecting a tactical rundown of each person. But… they wouldn’t complain. “CT-27-5555 is the only ‘fives’ trooper in the GAR. He’s one of Rex’s freaks, so good luck getting your hands on him.”

“That’s the five-oh-first, right?” Loops asked. “Torrent, or something?”

“Yeah. Rex’s freaks. I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” Do-si-do smirked. He probably would. “And CT-9999 is with Ghost Company in the two-twelfth. Pretty decent chance he and number five have run missions together. Or will in the future, anyway.”

“Is there a CT-0000?” Loops wanted to know.

“What about eleven-eleven?” Sevenset added.

The commander glanced up at them, then back to his materials. “Yeah, the one-eighteenth has a CT-0000. Didn’t find an eleven-eleven, though.”

Do-si-do frowned. “Not even a casualty report?”

“No.”

“But… he could still be on Kamino, right?” Trees said. “Cadets don’t show up in the main database until they graduate and deploy.”

The commander nodded. “He could be a cadet.”

“I could look,” Sevenset offered. “I mean. I live here now, so I should be able to find out if a CT-1111 exists. It’ll just take a bit longer.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” Do-si-do nodded. “In the meantime,” he continued, leaning forward, “who’re we going after first?”

Ta-daaa!! @blsmjoon @nintendolover13-ts4 (I couldn’t tag your side blog sorry) @alamogirl80 (idk why I can’t tag you either ;-;) @23-bears @theultimatesandwich

[petrichoravellichor]

Rebar Not Included

Written for Day 11 of the Supernatural Deserved Better Creative Challenge (prompt: hunting).

Summary: Jody and Donna help out the Winchesters by looking into an Ohio case involving masked vampires, and what do you know: not only do they manage to kill a certain side character from season 1 but they ALSO make it through without dying! Oh, and they kiss, just because they can.

(Read on Ao3)

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

Jody was just settling down with a book for the evening when her phone rang; she smiled at the name flashing across her screen and swiped left to accept the call. “Hey, Sam.”

“Jody, hi. How are you?”

“Alone, believe it or not. Alex is working the night shift, Claire and Kaia are still on that case down in Miami, and Patience is staying over at a friend’s. Got the whole house to myself.”

Sam chuckled. “That...honestly sounds kind of amazing right about now.”

“How’s Cas? Is he feeling any better?” she asked. It had been nearly a week since Sam and Dean had returned from the Empty with one bedraggled former angel in tow. Jody hadn’t pressed too hard for details at the time—Sam had sounded pretty exhausted when he’d called to tell her they’d made it back safely—but from what she’d gathered, Cas was human now, and his time in the Empty had left him very much in need of recuperation.

On the other end of the line, Sam groaned. “Uh...yeah, you could say that.” A beat, then: “He and Dean haven’t come out of Dean’s room since yesterday afternoon.”

Jody had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Huh. Well, how do you like that: they finally figured it out.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong; I’m really happy for them. I just wish the Men of Letters had invested in sound-proof walls. But anyway,” he said, changing tracks, “that’s not what I called you about.”

“What’s up?”

“So get this: last night, a family of four in Akron, Ohio, got attacked home-invasion style. Whatever it was killed the dad and drained his blood.”

Jody frowned. “Vampires?”

“I think so, but there’s more. I called and spoke with the police sergeant, and according to her, the attackers left the mom alive but ripped out her tongue, and they also took the two kids.”

Jody’s blood ran cold; she glanced at the photo of Alex, beaming and holding up her nursing degree, over on the mantle. “They’re taking blood slaves.”

“Yeah, looks like it.” Sam paused, then: “The thing is, I don’t think this the first time they’ve done it. Back in ’86, our dad was looking into a string of kidnappings along Route 77, and it was the same thing: whatever it was took the kids and ripped the tongues out of any adult it didn’t drain. By the time Dad started digging around, though, the attacks stopped. Until now, anyway. Here, just a sec, I’m gonna text you something...”

A moment later, Jody’s phone chimed. She put Sam on speaker and tapped to open the message; it was a drawing of what resembled the front part of a skull. “What am I looking at?”

“The mom drew that, the one from the most recent attack; apparently, the perpetrators wore masks. Hang on, I’m sending you another picture. This one’s from our dad’s journal, back when he was working the case in the 80s.”

The second picture loaded, and Jody drew in a sharp breath: the resemblance between the two drawings was unmistakable. “It’s the same nest.”

“That’s what I’m guessing. They seem to always target the same type of home: outside town, isolated, kids between the ages of five and ten. If the pattern from last time holds, they’ll hit Canton next, then East Sparta.”

Jody swallowed. “You want me to look into it.”

“If you’re able to, yeah, that would be great. We’d go ourselves, but what with Cas still recovering and him and Dean...um…” Sam cleared his throat, then continued more smoothly, “I can call someone else if now’s not a good time.”

Jody chewed her lip for a moment, then shook her head. This felt personal. “No,” she replied, pushing herself off the couch and heading to pack a bag, “I’ll take care of it. Let me grab a few hours of sleep, and then I’ll head out.”

“Great, thank you. I’ll dig around online and text you a shortlist of properties around Canton that seem like likely targets.”

“Sounds good; thanks, Sam. Take care.” She smirked, adding, “And tell Dean and Cas I said hello. Whenever you see them, that is.”

Sam snorted. “Will do. Be safe, okay?”

“Always.” She ended the call, then typed out a quick message to Donna: Hey babe. Feel like teaming up to take down some vamps?

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

The following night, she and Donna were crouched in the shadows near an abandoned barn in Ohio. Sam’s intel about where the nest would hit next had proven accurate, and by the time a black van carrying two masked vampires had pulled up in front of a rural home outside Canton, Jody and Donna were waiting. They dispatched both vampires easily, sparing one just long enough to learn the location of the group’s nest; now, the only thing left to do was clear out the remaining vamps and free the children who’d been taken captive.

“Okie dokie,” Donna whispered, “our toothy friend back there said they keep the kiddos in a room off to one side. We go in through the side door, then you take right, I take left?”

Jody nodded. “Works for me. Come on,” she said, drawing her machete, “let’s go save some kids.”

They crept over to the barn and entered.

At first glance, the place seemed deserted. They fanned out along the walls, searching carefully for any sign of life, but other than the occasional spiderweb, there was nothing. Then, as Jody neared the back of the barn, she heard it: a quiet sniffling sound coming from behind a latched door. She raised her hand and signaled to Donna, who nodded and hurried over; then, while Donna watched her back, Jody opened the door and saw two small, scared-looking little boys peering back at her. The younger one couldn’t have been much older than her own son, Owen, had been when he’d died, and the realization made Jody’s stomach clench.

She lowered her machete and crouched down to the boys’ level. “Hey,” she whispered soothingly, “hey, it’s okay. You can come out; you're safe. We’re not going to hurt you.”

No sooner had she ushered the two boys to her side, however, than she heard Donna’s warning: “Heads up, Jodes; we got company!”

Five figures were approaching slowly from the front of the barn, all armed with blades. Four of them, the two on either side of the central figure, wore masks similar to the drawings Jody had seen in Sam’s text messages. The fifth, however, was a maskless female vampire dressed in dark leather. As the group drew closer, she looked from Jody to Donna and back again with a scowl.

“You’re not the Winchesters,” she said, as though someone were playing a trick on her.

Donna flashed a grim smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Boys,” Jody said, low and urgent over her shoulder, “run.” She heard their frantic footfalls, followed by the slam of the side door. Good, she thought, hefting her machete as the vampires charged: she didn’t want them to see what happened next.

The first vampire lost its head the second it stepped in their space. Jody spun and slashed, Donna at her back, the clash of blades shattering the still air of the night. It was brutal work, bloody work, and Jody took no pleasure in it. Her only objective was to protect: the boys they’d freed, Donna, Sam and Dean. She had no idea what the vampires wanted with the Winchesters, and she didn’t care: whatever it was, she’d make sure they didn’t get it.

Jody had just relieved a second vampire of its head when something flashed on the edge of her vision; she pivoted, raising her weapon just in time. The female vampire’s blade crashed into her machete and sent a shockwave of pain up her arm, nearly causing her to cry out. There was no time for that, though: the vampire swung at her again and again, driving her back from the rest of the fight before rushing forward, barreling into Jody with the force of a tank.

Jody fell hard to the floor. Her machete flew from her hand, and she could only watch as a triumphant smile split her opponent’s face. The vampire raised her blade to deliver a final blow…and then her head flew off in a spray of red. Her body crumpled to the ground, revealing Donna, blood splattered and furious, machete still hovering at the end of its arc.

“Not my girlfriend, you bitch,” she panted, glowering down at the corpse as though sight alone could set it ablaze; then her gaze shifted to Jody, and all the rage seemed to drain out of her at once. “You okay, Jodes?”

Jody exhaled, nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She peered past Donna, counting the bodies on the ground and sighing in relief when the total came to five. Donna reached out a hand, and Jody took it, allowing Donna to pull her up and into an embrace. They kissed then, slow, reverent, and it was several moments before Jody could bring herself to pull away.

“Come on,” she said quietly, brushing back a strand of Donna’s hair. “We should go find those boys, make sure they get home safely.”

Donna nodded, and they drew apart, then left the barn without looking back.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Secrets I Have Held In My Heart

A/N: Modern!AU, Soulmate!AU, Soul Mark!AU, Angst, OT3.

This is quite honestly one of the longest things I’ve ever done in one sitting. I am exhausted. My prose and tenses are probably everywhere and I am so sorry for it. Enjoy x

(Edit 20/1/2021) It has recently come to my attention that lies and slander have been spread about my character amongst persons in this OT3 community. They are malicious lies made with the intent to cast a shadow over my credibility and my good standing in this community. I only ask that you come talk to me first before you believe the horrible things that have been levelled about me.

Please take care of yourselves x

--

Booker smiles placidly when he catches Joe's eye from across the room and let's the pretenses drop the moment he ducks out into hallway, finding a spot of quiet from all the music and chatter of celebration in the living room. He really should be happy but as it is with heartbreaks, happiness is something you can only fake until it feels real.

He opens the door when the doorbell rings and kisses the cheeks of the latecomers in greeting. They awkwardly avoid his eye with shifty smiles as they shuffle past him. Booker doesn't blame them. It's an awkward fucking situation all around.

Joe's warm and happy laughter carries through the air, and Booker just feels his heart twist in his chest. The sight of his head of curls bobbing along in the joy of whatever joke one of their friends was making while his arm was slung intimately low around Nicky's waist was unbearable. Booker has enough self-respect in him to recognise it as jealousy.

He has been in love with his best friend for almost as long as he has known him. It had been ridiculously easy for them; Joe had no soul marks and neither had Booker, so it was the most natural thing to move in together after they'd both hit 33 and when Booker decided to offer his fine art restorer skills up to go freelance, they make plans to spend the rest of their lives together. It made sense and they were happy. Booker had had no intentions of ever letting Joe know how he had truly felt and that was the mistake.

It isn't that he dislikes Nicky. 

The man was beyond perfect and Booker could have never hoped to compare. From the briefest of familiarities, he knows that Nicky was a former theology student who left the seminary and is now deep in his work with a local NGO, well on his way to maybe working for the UN some day. He volunteers at a local shelter, helps at his church's soup kitchen, is handsome and funny, is a fucking Saint personified and looks great next to Joe when Booker looks like a twice drowned rat on his best day. It isn't that he hates the man. It's just that, well, Nicky isn't him.

Booker knew something had changed then. Joe had never looked at him the way he had when his and Nicky's eyes first met. And he knows Joe like he knows his own mind and there won't be any one as trusting or as kind. If he tells him he loves him, Joe would stay and he'd be Booker's, but that's not how love works and so he waits until the day they're both on the sofa watching a game and Joe turns to him to say, "Nicky's my soulmate."

Just like that. And because he could never hurt Joe, he smiles, nodding. "I figured he was. Congratulations man. That's amazing!"

There had been an indescribable look that crossed Joe's face when he said that but he hadn't lingered on it for too long. Joe's soul mark was on his left forearm set in stark, bold lines; a scimitar and a longsword threaded together with roses and thorns. Pretty cool and Booker made sure to tell him so.

That had been three months ago. Three months of waiting for the other shoe to drop, the inevitable moment when Joe says he's gonna move out and into Nicky's unit. For the second it hits his best friend that there really wasn't a place for someone like him in this equation. Two months of sitting around until he wraps up his current contract with the museum in the city and the curator takes him aside to ask him if he would be interested in working for a private collector in Turkey. Two years to work on a team of freelancers. Two years on the other side of the continent. Booker said yes with no hesitation.

"Hey, you good?"

Booker knocks his bottle of beer to Copley's. He is one of the newer persons to join their friend group but it feels like they've know each other for a very long time. His warm smile anchors Booker to the here and now and he is stupidly grateful for his presence. The man was steadfast and calm, and it made sense to Booker that he'd be the only one he told about his leaving. "Yeah. I'm ready to go whenever you are."

He'd snuck a duffle bag of his things out to Copley's house the day before and then two suitcases when Joe was over at Nicky's last night. Right before the party to celebrate Joe's birthday, he had brought his carry on out to Copley's car. His name was still on the lease and he has left instructions to help pay for his part of the rent until the end of the year if Joe would like to continue staying here. Copley will help ship the rest of his things after a month. All that's left to do is leave.

Joe had been looking forward to introducing Nicky to his family and friends, and this party was perfect for it. Booker feels bereft at the thought that this could be the last time he sees him in a long while and he cranes his neck to spy him in the center of the room, accepting a kiss from Nicky as the birthday cake is brought out from the kitchen. He holds that image of Joe, smiling from ear to ear and hopes he won't hate him too much for leaving without saying goodbye.

"Let's go."

--

His Turkish is passable at best but he gets by well enough. The rest of the restoration team were up and coming names mixed with pioneers in the field and despite the lingering heart ache, Booker finds himself pleasantly settled and happy with the work he gets to do. Everyone seems to be equally as excited as he is to be working on their employer's personal collection of paintings and sculptures, in addition to the rare books that Booker has never seen outside of museums and archives.

It's good work and it keeps him busy. It stops him from thinking about Joe too much.

Booker had found thirteen missed calls and twenty texts and ten voicemails when he lands. He hesitates only for a moment before deleting everything that wasn't from Copley or his work.

As if sensing he was being summoned by thought, his phone rings as he basks in the afternoon sunshine whilst reading a book on his off day, Copley's name flashes on his screen.

"You still alive, then?"

"Alive and kicking," Copley says over the line with a laugh. "I swear, Joe is going to eviscerate me one of these days."

Booker shakes his head, marking his page and setting his book aside. The sunlight feels good on his skin and he takes a deep lungful of air. "He won't. He's way too nice."

"You didn't see him glare when I packed the last of your things into the boxes. They're shipped, by the way. Should reach you in a week tops."

"Thanks. I owe you big time."

"Oh, you owe me more than big time. When I come over to visit, I want you pulling out all the stops for me. I want the five star experience, Mr Booker. No expense spared," Copley chuckles.

"Alright, alright," Booker laughs. "I'm sure I can rustle something up. Just let me know when, alright?"

Copley hums and they fall into a comfortable pause. "How are you? Really. Don't lie."

He tightens his grip on his phone, swallowing tightly. "I miss him every day but that's not new. I think I'll keep missing him for a while yet."

"That's normal. I'm not surprised. I think he misses you too, you know?"

"He has Nicky now. He doesn't need me. I'm... I'm just his best friend with a stupid crush that had made plans to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't fit in it any more and he deserves more than I could ever give him," He swallow tightly, licking his lips. "Copley, he'll be okay."

"But will you?"

Booker doesn't have an answer to that. When his things arrive a week and a half later, he accepts it and begins to unpack his books. He's grateful to have his familiar favourites and is eager to fill his shelves when he spots the edges of an envelope peeking out of a battered copy of Neruda. It was a letter and it was addressed to him, though the handwriting is unfamiliar to him.

Dear Sebastien, it starts and this clues him in that this person isn't someone who knows him well. No one outside of his employers and colleagues call him Sebastien.

I hope you don't mind. I'll be slipping this along with the books. I really do hope it finds you well. I don't have your number and judging by the way Joe seems to not receive a reply from you, you might have changed it. I would ask it from Copley but I do not know him well enough and you deserve someone you can speak to without any awkwardness. I write this letter because I want to know you better. It occurred to me that we have never exchanged more than a handful of words whenever we meet and it was always about Joe. I found myself curious about you even if it feels like I know you from all that Joe talks about you. He still talks about you. Even if it is in confusion as to why you left us. I don't write to judge you. I just want to be your friend. If you are amenable, please send your reply to me care of the address on the back of this paper. I hope that you do. I won't tell Joe if you don't want me to.

Sincerely, Nicky.

Booker flips the paper and sees that it's for the church he'd half-remembered being the one that Joe had mentioned off-handedly once. He rereads the words, thrown by the whole thing. He tucks it into his pocket, pushing it to the back of his mind as he focuses on unpacking his life. But the shape of it digs against his skin and he cannot help unfolding it every few minutes to read it all over again.

Each word was carefully pressed and written with intent. He finds his thumb brushing over the looping Joe, but it is the careful He still talks about you that decides things for him.

Scratching his chest absently, he tears out an empty page from his notebook as writes, If we're going to be friends, you'd better call me Booker.

--

The seasons change and his correspondence with Nicky grows from a weekly letter to every few days, to Booker posting a letter only to receive a reply for the one he sent two days ago when he arrives back in his flat. Booker takes to sending a box of baklava over an overnight service and Nicky sends him a handwritten recipe for his Nonna's tomato soup when Booker off-handedly mentions a sniffle.

Eventually it gets easier to talk about Joe and Booker tells Nicky on what he likes and what he doesn't, how to best care for him; he's allergic to a certain brand of detergent, he always forgets his scarf in the depths of winter so always stuff one in his coat pocket, he loves it when you caress his hair, he doesn't support any team in football but he loves watching a game and he always chooses the team that starts on the right side of the pitch, ask his mother for her recipe for lamb stew and make that for him when he's having a busy week.

Nicky never seems to be bothered by him telling him all these things and in turn, Booker learns that Nicky cannot function before his first cup of coffee, that he misses the quiet of his life in the seminary but he is glad he can do more as he is, that he has a few kids that he works with that he is hoping will get into gifted programmes that can help them excel in academia, that if he hadn't done the almost priest route, he would have been a doctor or a medic.

It was ridiculously effortless to be friends with Nicky and he finds himself actually looking forward to his letters and random bits and bobs in the mail. Sometimes Nicky sends Booker Joe’s sketches and he keeps them up on his bedside, keeping them in sight as he falls asleep at night. Other times there’s a picture or two, taken by Nicky, of Joe. Joe on the corner of the sofa, curled up and dozing, Joe eyes crinkling as he laughs at something. Joe with those ridiculous sunglasses they bought on a whim over a very wet Welsh afternoon.

As the first chill of the season sets in, Booker asks about Joe.

He's fine. Missing you. We're heading to his family's beach house. He said you both used to go together?

Booker finds that he can smile a little easier when the memories come or when it is brought up that Joe misses him. It still tastes a little bittersweet but he can be happy about how he had the chance to experience these things with Joe. Even if he hadn't been the one to keep having them. 

Yes. He writes, But you both can do this together now. Make sure you pack extra blankets for yourself. I'm sure you know that he hogs them.

Nicky replies with a box of Marks and Spencer Welsh Cakes which Booker thanks with an assortment of Turkish Delights. 

Their correspondence slows as the weather cools further. Copley, when he tells him about what’s happening over Skype, merely asks him if it i a good idea to be even putting himself in the same sphere as Joe and Nicky when he had moved across the continent just to get away from the heartbreak. 

“I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” Booker says over the sizzling of the butter as he makes the cheese toasties that Joe used to love for breakfasts. He scratches at his chest, eyes watching the way the cheese oozes off its side.

“Mate, I don’t think you’re far removed enough to actually know how catastrophic this could be.”

“O ye, of little faith,” Booker huffs, flipping the toastie. “At some point I would like to be able to exist in the same city as him without melting into a puddle of heartbreak. If being friends with his soulmate helps get me there, I’m all for it.”

“You are a masochist, Mr Booker.”

Booker laughs even as he burns his finger on the pan.

He works harder than ever, learning and improving his own techniques under the tutelage of his colleagues and can appreciate the opportunity. There's already talks of him going to New York after the New Year's to accompany some of the artifacts that are being lent out for display. Booker is climbing the stairs up to his building, head down, free hand rubbing at his chest and reading through the latest methods of restoration on his phone when he bumps into a person rushing down. 

“Oh, sorry--”

“Booker.”

Joe’s eyes are big and wide when their gazes meet. Booker blinks, breathes in deep before looking behind him to see Nicky watching them from his landing, exhaling shakily as he whispers, deep and with feeling, “What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

--

Nicky nurses his cup of tea from his lean against the window and deftly avoids the inquiring glare Booker keeps sending his way from the safety of the kitchen. Joe, on the other hand, is carefully prowling the space of his studio flat he has made home, obviously cataloguing the way his books sit on the shelf and the way he has kept the space marginally clean-ish, how there are pictures and sketches tacked to the wall behind the dining table, the clear signs of a life he has built here.

“Let me get this straight, you picked up Nicky’s mail from the church, saw my handwriting, and decided to come all the way to Turkey. Just to see me,” Booker says, gesturing at their backpacks leaning against his door. “Again, let me ask, why?”

“Why?” Joe laughs, throat clicking when the sound comes out rough and raw. “You ask me why I would fly out to Turkey in the middle of the holiday season just to see my best friend who left me without telling me he got a job in Turkey and was going to leave without even so much as a goodbye, and you are asking me why I would come all the way out here just to chase you down? Are you perhaps short of a marble!”

“And what was I supposed to do! Linger around you when I was dying every single time I looked at you and knew I wasn’t your soulmate? We were going to spend our lives together, Joe! I loved you!”

Booker slaps his hand over his mouth and turns away, focusing on his breathing. “You love me?” Joe says softly in the stillness of the flat.

“I did. I do and I’m sorry,” He sighs, feeling his chest shake with his trembling breath. He presses the heel of his hand to his sternum. “I do. And it’s okay, Joe. I know you don’t love me in that way. It’s okay. I just need some time away to figure out how to love you like you need me to.”

“And what do you know about what I need from you?”

Booker feels Joe come close and allows himself to be turned around to be face to face with him. “Do you know I love you too?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles wetly, rubbing his nose with the back a hand. “I’m your best friend.”

Nicky choose this moment to speak. “Booker, look at him and listen. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you in our letters. “

There’s an insistence in Nicky’s gaze that galvanises Booker to turn to Joe and meet his eyes head on. “I love you, Book. I always did. I still do. Even after the bullshit you’ve put me through.”

“But Nicky--” “Nicky’s my soulmate and I love him too.” Joe smiles, eyes gone liquor soft when Nicky returns his fond look. “But I’ve loved you for the longest time, Book. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The itch on his chest starts to burn.

“And you’re alright with this?” Booker breathlessly asks Nicky, taking a step back. “This- This whole Love, Actually thing is a situation you’re okay with?”

“Yes,” Nicky says, standing to cross the distance between them. Joe reaches for him then, tenderly touching him by the elbow while Nicky slides a hand to his cheeks and Booker feels immediately overwhelmed. He parts his mouth to speak when he doubles over dropping to his knees when the fire spreading over the skin on his chest sends him to his knees gasping for air. 

Joe keeps a hold on him while Nicky looks him over with clear worry. “Fuck!” Booker groans, trying to arch away. Clawing at his shirt, he tears at it until the buttons plink on the floor as they fall. For a moment, he does not register the dark lines that spread over his sternum. Running shaking fingers over his raw skin, Booker barely holds back the awed gasp at the scimitar and longsword twined together with thorns and roses. 

“Well,” Nicky laughs softly, cupping him by the side of the head, sweeping him into a gentle kiss. In that second that their lips touch, Booker feels his heartbeat skip a notch. “I guess this answers things, doesn’t it?”

-- Epilogue --

“That’s the last of the boxes.”

Joe kicks the door shut behind him, dropping the bags in his hands to the floor, ignoring the evil eye sent his way by Nicky who had warned them against scuffing up the hardwood floors. Booker throws himself onto the sofa with a sigh and Joe, grinning like a maniac, does a running start before launching himself onto Booker. 

“Oof!” And then after a beat and a wiggle. “Joe, you’re suffocating me and I can feel your dick against my ass.”

They’ve finally moved into their first home together. It had taken a bit more effort after Turkey to keep their fledgling relationship going but all’s well, ends well and Booker is back with them after finishing up his contract with glowing recommendations and growing his contact list. Joe was ridiculously proud and he knows Nicky feels the same too. 

They’ll need to work hard over the next two days to spruce the place up in time for their housewarming. Their friends and families will be here and Joe cannot wait to show off his loves. Wrapping his arms around Nicky and pulling him along back to the sofa where Booker is, he basks in the happy warmth of feeling whole with his heart in one piece.

[deancas-fanfiction]

Hardest Part is Letting Go

Part 2/7

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Fic Summary: Upon his diagnosis of a terminal illness, Dean vows to spend the rest of his short life with Cas by his side, completing his bucket list while learning what it really means to live and love.

Chapter Summary: Dean and Cas cross another item off Dean's bucket list. Shameless smut ensues.

Part 1

available on ao3

Days quickly turned into weeks as Dean and Cas continued to spend every day together. Some days that would stay in and watch old movies together and some days they would venture out into the city, needing a change of scenery. It was the end of September and quickly becoming bitterly cold. Earlier that day they drove into Lawrence to grab coffee from the quaint coffee shop where they had their first date.

They sipped their coffees by the large stone fireplace in the corner, reminiscing over a shared piece of coffee cake. It was nearly five years to the date that they started dating and it seemed a fitting way to celebrate. Dean still remembers exactly how he felt when he arrived and saw Cas through the large bay window. He arrived early and was sipping on a latte which left a little bit of foam on his upper lip. Dean grinned at that and his nerves were quickly replaced with complete adoration.

Dean and Cas first met freshman year of college. It was during welcome week at a forced mixer for all freshmen in their dorm. Dean was sipping on the sickly-sweet punch that was in desperate need of some whiskey to level it out when he inconspicuously made his way to where the aux cord was located. Just because he was forced to be at this party didn't mean he was stuck listening to today’s top hits.

When he was within sight of the aux, he noticed that someone else beat him there. It was the most attractive man he had ever seen. With striking blue eyes that were in perfect contrast to his dark sex hair, he was like Dean’s biggest fantasy in the flesh. His eyes appreciatively roamed Cas’s body noticing the way his dark jeans clung to his thighs and the way his dark t-shirt stretched tight against his chest and arms.

Cas was furiously scrolling on the phone when suddenly the song changed. Space Oddity by David Bowie was now blasting through the speakers. He looked immediately pleased with himself and continued scrolling, adding more songs to the new queue of the playlist.

“You know, if you’re going to try and get away with changing the playlist, you should really pick a faster song to make it less obvious,” Dean mused.

Cas jumped, unaware that he was spotted changing the music. He quickly regained his composure and smiled crookedly. “Bowie is always the exception.” His voice was gravelly and deep and holy hell he really was the hottest guy Dean had ever met.

Dean smiled at that. “I would say I’d drink to that, but this punch is certainly missing its kick.”

“You know, I think I can help with that.” Cas reached into his back pocket with an eyebrow raised and pulled out a silver flask. Glancing over his shoulder, he poured a healthy amount in Dean’s cup.

Dean took a long drink from the now significantly improved punch and grinned. “My god, and a whiskey drinker, nonetheless. Where have you been all my life?”

“Iowa,” Cas deadpanned.

Dean laughed and took another long drink of the punch.

“Want to get out of here?” Cas asked. “Go somewhere quieter, I mean. This isn’t really my scene.”

Dean grinned and raced out of the party with Cas in tow.

That night Dean and Cas walked along the deserted campus, passing the flask back and forth. They took turns being mock appalled over the bands the other hasn’t listened to, or the movies that haven’t been seen. They made future plans to correct those oversights and Dean felt true happiness for the first time in much too long.

Dean never kissed Cas that night. In fact, Dean didn’t kiss Cas until years after that night. They became comfortable in their friendship and Dean didn’t want to risk what they had. Cas ended up transferring back to Iowa for his last year of college to be close to his family when his mom was sick. After she passed, he moved back to Lawrence and it was through the late-night comfort sessions where Dean’s hands lingered too long, and Cas gripped Dean too tight that their friendship suddenly became so much more.

Dean was determined to do it right, so he asked Cas out on an official date and they went to their favorite coffee shop where they previously spent hours studying together. But this time, Dean could stare at Cas without worrying about the implications. He could reach out and touch him without trying to make up some excuse for it. It was freeing and exhilarating all at once. And now, five years after that first date, Cas still has that same impact on Dean.

It was those moments that Dean and Cas reminisced over in the coffee shop. Except there was an underlying tone of sadness and uncertainty for the future. But Dean pushed that away and focused on those happy memories. He focused on Cas and found himself just as stupidly in love with him as that first day he met him.

Now Dean and Cas were back at their apartment, cuddled on the couch with coffee for Dean and hot chocolate for Cas. Dean was exhausted from their excursion. His fatigue was really setting in now. He had felt it earlier, beginning to weigh him down like a blanket. He refused to let the illness win today. Cas deserved a nice day. But now that he was laying on the couch with his head resting on Cas’s chest, he just didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore.

He was drifting into a blissful sleep when he felt Cas nudge him. Dean grumbled and chose to ignore whatever the reason Cas was trying to wake him and relaxed, feeling sleep win over once again. Once again it was interrupted. “Jesus, what is it Cas?”

“It’s raining,” He whispered, his mouth close to Dean’s ear.

“So?”

“So…it’s raining, Dean.” The emphasis he put on it seemed to wake Dean as he shot up, staring at Cas with a smile on his face.

“It’s raining! We can cross number three off the list!”

It wasn’t that rain was uncommon in Kansas. In fact, there is probably quite a few rainy days left before it turns into snow, but Dean wants to finish his list and he wants to experience the items while he can thoroughly enjoy them.

All signs of fatigue washed away from Dean and he was leaping off the couch, bringing Cas with him. They both threw on rain jackets and some boots before bounding down the stairs. He felt like a kid again.

It was a cold rain, not the warm rain showers they had grown accustomed to throughout the summer. But Dean preferred this kind; it was refreshing and the goosebumps that formed from it reminded him that he is alive. Dean lifted his face towards the sky, feeling the raindrops wash over him. He opened his mouth to catch a few stray drops, laughing to himself because he used to do the same as a kid. When was the last time he enjoyed the rain? When was the last time that he wasn’t rushing to get out of it or complaining about the inconvenience of it? The answer was too long. He needed to focus on slowing down and enjoying life. And that’s what his list was all about.

Cas grabbed Dean’s hand breaking his train of thought and dragged him through a large puddle in the street outside their apartment. Dean smiled at his boyfriend, with his dark hair that was curling at the ends from the moisture and his pink lips that were beginning to turn a light shade of blue from the cold. He truly was beautiful. Cas wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him against his chest, grabbing his other hand.

“May I have this dance?” Cas questioned, his mouth close to Dean’s ear which caused him to shiver and created a wake of goosebumps of their own kind.

“Cas, you fucking sap,” Dean teased, but rested his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder nonetheless. They began to slowly pivot in the middle of the street, the cold rain falling against them, soaking through their jackets and into their boots but none of that mattered. Not when they had each other by their sides. Dean sighed contentedly. Maybe he should have added ‘dance in the rain’ to his list because this – this was absolutely perfect.

It wasn’t long before the cold rain began to seep into what felt like their bones, and they stopped dancing. They both were lost in their own thoughts, but when they looked at each other, green eyes meeting blue, their thoughts were quickly consumed of the other. Dean’s eyes glanced down to Cas’s lips and Cas rested his hand on the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him close.

The rain was cold, but their lips were warm, sending sparks of electricity through the other. Dean’s hands were on each side of Cas’s face as their mouths meshed together perfectly and leisurely. No wonder kissing in the rain was always romanticized in the movies. It was incredible. They kissed slowly and with meaning, pouring emotions into the kiss that neither could put into words. All thoughts of a bucket list, terminal illness, and the cold were quickly erased from Dean’s mind. Instead, all thoughts were of Cas. Dean deepened the kiss, running his tongue along Cas’s bottom lip. He pressed his body against him, suddenly wanting – no, needing more of Cas.

A bright flash of lightning struck, causing the two of them to jump apart, laughing at the other’s momentarily frightened expression.

“Come on,” Cas said, grabbing Dean’s hand once again. “Let’s go take a hot shower and we can continue where we left off.” Dean grinned and allowed Cas to lead him inside and upstairs to the warmth of their apartment.

It wasn’t long before they were shut in the bathroom, stripping each other of their wet clothes as the water heated up. What started as a frenzy turned into something much more languid. Cas peeled Dean’s soaked shirt off of him and left a trail of kisses in its place which blazed into Dean’s skin. Cas kissed along his neck, lightly sucking and nibbling on the spot just under Dean’s ear that always elicits the sexiest sounds. When he was pleased with the mark he made, Cas continued down to his shoulders. He pressed feather light kisses along his muscles, paying extra attention to his collar bones.

Cas’s fingertips lightly brushed Dean’s nipple, to which Dean whined in response. “Cas.”

“Patience,” He teased. Cas slipped his fingertips under the waistband of Dean’s boxers all while peppering kisses and licking along his broad chest. He ran his fingers along the soft skin and listened to Dean’s labored breathing. “Shower. Now.” Cas ordered, pushing his hands down and completely stripping Dean of his clothes.

They both stepped in the shower, letting the hot water wash over their chilled bodies. Dean raised his face towards the water, mimicking his earlier action in the rain. The hot water trickled down his body, washing away the chill. Meanwhile, Cas grabbed a rag and soaped it up. He rubbed it in small circles along Dean’s back, massaging where he carried the most of his tension. “Cas,” Dean moaned. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

Cas hummed in response and leaned against Dean’s back, pressing his erection against him. His hands moved to his front, gently moving along Dean’s chest and stomach, leaving soapy suds in its place. Dean let out a low moan in response to the gentle caresses and the feeling of Cas against his ass. Cas’s hand moved lower, gripping Dean’s cock. He gently moved his hand along Dean’s hard length, jerking him off at a slow enough pace to drive Dean crazy. Dean whined in response; he could already feel the heat gathering in his stomach. “Cas, please.”

“Tell me what you want, Dean.”

“You,” He choked out. “Please. I want to feel you.”

Cas moaned and removed his hand from Dean. Dean nearly whimpered in response to the loss but then he heard the click of the lube bottle opening. Cas spread Dean’s legs and slicked up his fingers. He slowly pushed the first one past the tight ring of muscles. Dean groaned at the sensation and wiggled his hips against Cas, urging him to move. Cas gripped Dean’s hips with his free hand, stilling his movements as he inserted a second finger.

Cas paused, giving Dean a moment to adjust before he began scissoring his fingers, readying Dean for him. “Ah fuck,” Dean hissed as Cas brushed his fingertip against his prostate. “C’mon, Cas, I need more.”

Cas chuckled at his boyfriend’s impatience and added a third finger. He slowly slid them in and out, feeling the warm heat of Dean. When Dean was ready, he removed his fingers and squirted more lube into his hand. He ran his hand along his leaking cock. Dean looked over his shoulder and nearly came at the sight of Cas touching himself. His head was thrown back, eyebrows furrowed, and lips parted open.

“Dean,” Cas sighed as he removed his hand. He smirked at his boyfriend’s lust ridden expression. His pupils were dilated, leaving just a small ring of color around them.    

Cas pressed the tip of his cock against Dean’s hole, lightly teasing him. “Fuck, Cas. Just fucking take me already,” He growled. With that, Cas slowly pushed in, letting the tight ring of his muscles surround him.

“You’re so fucking tight, Dean.” He growled.

Dean wiggled his hips in response, letting Cas know it was okay to move now that he was adjusted to the feeling of Cas inside him. He began pumping in and out at a slow pace, letting the tension slowly build. He adjusted his angle and brushed against Dean’s prostate on nearly every thrust.

“Cas, I need more,” He whimpered. Cas picked up the pace and began to kiss the crook of his neck. His breath was hot but still left goosebumps in its wake.

Cas whispered into Dean’s ear, “Touch yourself.” Dean immediately obliged, pumping his cock in time with Cas’s thrusts. It didn’t take long until that heat was ready to bubble over. He knew Cas wasn’t far behind based off the whimpers and curses falling from his lips. Cas picked up the pace, slamming into Dean’s prostate and Dean’s vision nearly went black from the pleasure. “Cas!” He screamed as he spilled over onto his hand and the shower wall.

As Dean expected, Cas was not far behind. It was a few more thrusts before he was following Dean off the edge with the cry of his name. The two of them caught their breath and quickly cleaned themselves up. Dean shut the water off and wrapped Cas up in a towel. He pulled him in and gently kissed him, soaking in the smell of his coconut conditioner.

“I love you so much, Cas.”

Cas grinned and replied, “And I love you more, Dean.”

Dean took in Cas’s look of pure adoration which made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. “Let’s go to bed, angel.” He said with another quick kiss.

Within minutes they were tangled up together in bed, sound asleep.

Part 3

[salty-sith-bitch]

Sweet Child O’ Mine

Chapter 1

Words: 5k

Pairings: Din Djarin X Orla Fett (Boba Fett’s daughter), Boba Fett & Daughter 

Genre: Fluff, humor, angst, romance

Warnings: cursing, canon typical violence, eventual smut, more to come?

Summary:  Orla Fett is reunited with her long-lost father five years after his presumed death and welcomed into his palace. Hired as one of his best bounty hunters, Orla struggles with finding her place in the galaxy and if she wants to stay a bounty hunter. Her new companion, The king of Mandalore - Din Djarin - may end up helping her make up her mind.

“I’m just a simple woman trying to find her way in the galaxy, like my father before me ”

That’s what Orla told herself every morning when she woke. She was just a simple woman trying to survive and make her way in the galaxy, catching one bounty at a time as her father did. It was her only job - staying alive and filling her father’s spot.

When her father passed five years prior Bib Fortuna hired her as his main mercenary and provided her with more than enough jobs to support herself. Orla didn’t particularly love it but it’s what she had. Her father had made sure that if anything were to ever happen to him that she had a large and appreciated skill set, making it easier for her to find work. She was thankful for that. Thankful her father prepared her for the worst like his father before him.

There were still days she missed her father. Days where it became hard to get out of bed and put her armor on. She missed the Slave I too. Not because it was a great ship or that it was supposed to be passed to her at the fall of her father, but because of the memories she made with her father there.

Laying in her cramped quarters Orla stared at the ceiling, brushing her fingers through her hair gently as she recalled one of her earliest memories - her first hunt with her father.

The smell of rain and metal dripping from her father's armor made her slightly queasy, reminding her of blood. She could almost taste the iron in her mouth if she thought about it too much. She wasn’t used to it but her father said it would become less noticeable over time. Nodding silently she watched her father drag the bounty away and towards the carbonator. She could hear the hissing and screams of the bounty and it sent a cold shiver through her body. She tried to instead focus on detangling the soaked braid on her head.

Growling in frustration Orla dropped her hands and stomped her foot. Her body ached with exhaustion and she was uncomfortable. Letting a sniffle escape she leaned her head against the wall of the ship and cried.

"Ad'ika," her father called softly.

When she didn't respond he approached her and set a hand on her shoulder. "Orla, my princess. What is wrong?"

Orla rubbed her eyes and took in a hiccuping breath before speaking. "My hair is tangled, papa."

Smiling sweetly, her father patted her cheek. "Come, daughter. I'll fix it for you."

Orla found herself being scooped up and cradled into her father's chest. He carried her to the makeshift cot he made for her and set her down, letting his fingers gently pull apart the tangles.

"You did good today my child."

Humming Orla let her eyes drift shut as she leaned back into her father.

Sighing heavily Orla raised a shaky hand to her cheek and wiped away the tears. A full-grown woman and highly respected bounty hunter, crying in the sleeping quarters of her little hut long before the suns had even risen. She laughed at herself. If her father was here now he would sternly tell her to get herself together and then gently pat her cheek lovingly.

Steadying herself Orla wiped the last few tears and sat up in bed. Throwing the covers off she made her way across her hut and started to assemble her armor.

***

Orla sat in the Cantina of some outer rim planet stressed and annoyed. She had been on this mission for nearly a week and still couldn’t find her bounty. She had even asked the locals and none of them could give her information on the bounty.  Clutching the glass in her hand Orla watched as foam swirled as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. She was ready to give up, head back to Tatooine and tell Fortuna he could just shove it up his ass. The thought brought a smirk to her face but she knew she couldn’t do that.

Sighing heavily Orla poured herself another glass of mead and brought it to her lips. Throwing her head back Orla downed the entire glass and slammed it on the table. Wiping her mouth she raised an eyebrow as she made eye contact with the new visitor.

The woman, small and sleek with a braid down her back, eyed Orla back. Her eyes were piercing and it made Orla unsettled. It wasn't often that she felt uneasy about someone but for some reason, this woman in front of her made her uncomfortable.

“I’m not really in the mood for company at the moment. So unless you have info about my bounty I would appreciate it if you left.” Leaning back in her chair Orla reached for the pitcher of mead.

Her new, unwelcomed visitor was quicker though, swiftly grabbing the pitcher and her glass to fill for herself. Lips pressed into a thin line Orla continued to lean back, letting her hand slowly brush over her thigh and towards her blaster.

“I’m not here to keep you company or to give you info about your bounty. And there's no use in trying to shoot me. I know all your tricks. You’re just like your father.” Smirking, the woman lifted the glass of mead and downed the entire glass much like Orla had just a moment prior. “I’m here to take you back to Tatooine. Your presence has been requested at the Hutt Castle."

Orla scoffed. She was starting to grow unsettled but refused to let it show. No one openly talked to her about her father, especially so forward. Yet here was this woman she knew nothing about and seemed to know almost everything about her.

"I'm on a hunt. I'm not just abandoning. They know where I am. If it was so important they could comm me."

"It's under new management now. This hunt isn't important. What is, is that you come back with me to Tatooine and do just as I say."

"Dank Farrik," Orla cursed under her breath.

Her mind was racing with hundreds of questions and thoughts. New management was never good. It meant Fortuna was most certainly dead leaving her without work. The new owner could very well be demanding she come back to the castle to give her a new position… or to simply kill her off. It would all depend on just who killed Fortuna and where the Fett Clan stood with them.

Orla couldn't think of anyone who would be seeking her demise but her father told her to always assume someone would be after her. She thought about escaping. Trying to find a way out of the cramped cantina and find a new home elsewhere, or maker, even change her name and lay low in a village or dinner caves. But then her thoughts turned into what if she just listened to the woman in front of her and went back to Tatooine. This woman wasn't trying to fight her or take her as her own personal bounty as far as she could tell, and if she listened maybe they would see that as her committing her skills to them and hire her on a permanent mercenary.

"Listen," the woman spoke up. "I can see you thinking. This isn't a trap and you're not gonna die. You're more than welcome to just leave now, forget about the bounty you are on, and start a new life but I think you'll want to see what happens at the castle."

Chewing her cheek again, Orla stared into the woman's eyes, looking for any hint of a lie. When she couldn't find anything Orla leaned forward and grabbed the pitcher and glass, pouring herself the last serving and gulping it.

"Fine. I'll go. But what about my ship? And how can I trust you? I don't know who you're working for and I doubt you'll tell me, so can I at least get your name?"

"Your ship doesn't matter anymore. You'll be given a new one. We can stop and collect anything you may need from it for now but if you wish to come back and get it in the future then do as you will."

The woman stood and Orla followed, trailing after her out of the cantina and to the ship docks.

"And my name," the woman said as she looked over her shoulder, "is Fennec Shand."

***

The ride to Tatooine was spent in silence. Orla didn't mind, she was never one for conversations with people outside her close ring and Fennec didn't seem like much of a talker either. Orla spent most of the flight napping in the passenger seat, hand lingering over her blaster just in case Fennec tried to do anything funny. The trip was long and Orla's body cried for rest. Relaxing into her seat she let sleep eventually consume her. When the ship started its descent she woke and stretched her stiff limbs as the dunes came into view.

Even walking to the castle was spent in silence. Orla started to worry less and less about Fennec trying to harm or kill her but she still couldn't shake the feeling that something big was about to happen. The universe felt off, heavier, and almost foggy like a dream. Shaking the feeling off Orla continued to walk until she reached the castle, stopping just outside the entrance to the lower level.

 Fennec didn't bother stopping calling out to her as she continued to go down. "You don't want to keep him waiting."

Shutting her eyes and taking one last steadying breath Orla walked down the stairs and down into the throne room.

The silence that welcomed her was terrifying. She had never seen the palace empty and was prepared for someone to jump out and attach her. Turning around in circles she searched for Fennec but couldn't find the woman anywhere. The only thing that greeted her was the echoing sound of her footsteps bouncing off the palace walls. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She felt the tension in the air, like electricity wrapping it around her and coursing through her veins.

Down the hallway, a new set of footsteps echoed off the palace walls. Orla turned slowly to see who it was, her hand inching towards her blaster prepared to draw and start shooting if anyone tried attacking. Before she could reach her blaster though she froze. Every muscle in her body locked up and she felt her lungs screaming at her to breathe.

Brain screaming, Orla tried to calm herself but she found it nearly impossible as she stared at the bounty hunter before her. Finally able to breathe again Orla dropped her hand away from her blaster, only for her brain to start screaming more, telling her this could still be a trap. She felt like she was going in circles. She couldn't process what she was seeing.

Finally getting herself to relax enough Orla took in a couple of steadying breaths before collecting her thoughts and speaking.

"Dad," she questioned, brows knitting together. Her knees started to shake as she continued to eye the man.

Giving a small tilt of his head the bounty hunter started to take cautious steps forward. Shaking her head in disbelief, Orla walked backward until her back was pressed against the wall.

Confused and on the verge of tears Orla reached for her blaster and drew it quickly. She knew this was an imposter, her father was dead. Killed many years ago by the Sarlac, leaving her to take care of herself and forge her own path in the world of bounty hunting. The only other explanation she could find was that she was also dead. That she had gone with Fennec and was killed in her sleep and as some cruel joke, the maker chose her and her father's resting place as Jabba's palace - the last place she had seen her father. 

Continuing to watch the man slowly approach, she studied the freshly painted armor. It didn't fit the man like it did her father, being a little tight in the gut, but the dent on the helmet told her it was indeed at least her father’s beskar. That dent had been there as long as you could remember. Orla had heard rumors not long after her father's death of his ghost walking around in the far parts of the planet but refused to believe it. Then she heard about how it was just a marshal who had found the beskar, using it for his own advantage. She pondered if this was that man, but couldn't think of any reason why he would be here and why he would have killed Fortuna.

Shaking her head Orla switched the safety off on her gun and lifted it, aiming at the man in front of her. No matter who this was it was not her father and she wasn't willing to let anyone take her life or get her father's armor.

"Take one more step and I'll shoot," she snarled through clenched teeth; her hand shaking just slightly from the adrenaline.

Stopping, the man raised his hands in surrender, letting them drift slowly to the helmet as if going to take it off.

Trembling, Orla clenched her jaw, unable to speak any further as she watched the man lift the helmet from his head. Time ticked by slowly, almost painfully as she waited for the man to reveal himself. When the helmet was completely removed and tucked under the man's arm Orla felt as if the wind was knocked out of her.

"My child," Boba whispered. He studied Orla, wide-eyed as he took in her face. "You've grown so much, little one."

Dropping her blaster Orla lifted a shaking hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut; hot tears sliding down her face. The world started to spin as she continued to shake, her breathing becoming heavy and labored.

“This, this can’t be happening. Y- you were dead!” Snapping her head up she pointed a finger at her father. “You left me! You left me to fend for myself and promised you’d be back!” Taking the last couple steps towards Boba she pushed against his chest with both of her trembling hands, the sound of flesh hitting beskar echoing in the empty room.

Stumbling back Boba threw his free hand up in defense, allowing her a minute to process and sob.

Orla was so full of rage and anger she couldn’t tell if she was still shaking from the shock of seeing the man she thought was dead or because she was so furious he was alive all this time and didn’t come to find her.

Furious Orla gave out a shriek and started swinging at her father. Boba was quicker though, quickly stepping back to avoid her fist colliding with his face.

“Verd’ika…” Boba pleaded his own desperation and hurt seeping through.

Letting her fists fall to her sides Orla hung her head and sobbed. She had almost forgotten what her father's voice sounded like after all the years he was gone. The sounds of her nicknames rolling off his tongue were like a spear through the heart. It sent her body limp and every nerve on edge. But the desire for nothing more than to hug her father and beheld was stronger than her anger.

Rushing forward Orla threw her arms around her father, almost knocking him over. Dropping his helmet Boba threw his own arms around her, lifting her from the ground and burying his face into the padding on her shoulder as dust flitted around. The smell of her father overwhelmed her causing her to cry harder. Trying to inhale and catch her breath Orla clung closer to her father like she did when she would have a nightmare and he would be there to protect her.

Maybe that's all this was, she thought. A bad dream and she was just now waking up.

“My little girl,” Boba wept. “I’m so sorry. I should have come back sooner. Should have told you."

"Papa," Orla cried. "I'm just happy to see you. I can't believe you're here."

Setting Orla back down Boba took a step back and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"I was so scared, Orla. When I was tumbling down into the pit  I-I thought about nothing besides you and how I had failed you." Boba's lip trembled as he tried to hold back another sob, determined to be strong for his little girl.

Boba was a fierce man. Anyone could tell you that. He was a little rough around the edges and seldom let outsiders into his life - Fennec, Din, and Orla's mother's being the exceptions. When it came to his daughter though he would go to the ends of the galaxy for her. She was his entire life from the moment she arrived. A piece of him and a piece of the woman he once - and even now still- loved. She reminded him so much of himself when she was younger and when he was falling to his death he couldn't help but think about how he was leaving her, just like his father did. Since the day of the Sarlacc pit, the idea of leaving his daughter haunted home.

Reaching up Orla gently wiped the tears from her father's scarred cheeks. "But you're here now Papa. And I'm here. We're ok. It's gonna be ok."

Giving a wet and loving chuckle Boba pulled his daughter into another hug.

They stood there for a couple of minutes holding each other until their crying died. Father and daughter reunited again and both were determined to keep it that way.

"Sorry to break up family time," Fennec said from the hallway. "But Mando is back and I don't think it will do him good if he sees you crying from your little reunion."

Sighing heavily, Boba stepped back from Orla, giving her a smile and a soft pat on the cheek.

"Buir," Orla groaned playfully. "You haven't done that since I was a child."

"And every day I was away from you I wished I could do it again." Scoping up his helmet Boba set it back on his head. "Now come child, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

***

Meeting the Mandalorian was… interesting. When introduced to him by her father he gave a curt nod and nothing more. The rest of their meeting went with little talking. Her father gave him the credits he earned for his bounty, told him where to find his next one, and asked him how he was doing.

At her father's last question the Mandalorian hesitated before answering, his helmet turning to her for a brief moment before responding with a quiet "fine."

When the Mandalorian left the room Orla stood and looked down at her father.

"Seems like some great company. Reminds me of a certain someone." She said cheekily.

Sighing heavily Boba stood and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You'll warm up to him while we are all here. The man's just been through a lot."

Frowning slightly Orlla raised her eyebrow. "While we are all here? What does that mean?"

"You work for me now little one. And you'll be staying here in the castle with all of us."

Scoffing, Orla brushed her father's hand away. "Working for you?"

"What, you think just because your father shows back up you don't have to work?"

Shaking her head Orlla leaned against the wall. "Well, I didn't ask to be a bounty hunter papa. There are other things I want to do in life. And I have my own home."

A low growl cake from Boba. "What do you possibly want to do in this life ad'ika?" His tone was sharp as he spoke. "You're a fantastic hunter from what I have heard and just because you are my child doesn't mean I'm gonna give that up."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Orla glared at her father. "I'm a great hunter because I had to be. Without you, it's all I had. It's not what I wanted at all. I want to be able to be me. Do things you never got to do properly and I know you longed forward. Like having a real family! To fall in love and not worry about losing them or my children! And you just came back! And you're gonna send me out on hunts? You of all people should know how dangerous that is!"

"Sorry to burst your bubble Orlla, but that's not how our lives work!" Boba's voice continued to rise in volume, causing Orlla to flinch away from him. "We'll never be the type of people to settle down and just enjoy the mundane things in life. I tried, and look at how that turned out for your mother! So if you want a family then you're gonna have a damn struggle of a time keeping them safe. And maker above, if that day ever comes I hope you're prepared to be fighting for the rest of your life, and whoever the bastard is that touches my daughter - so help me Orlla, it will not go well!" Sighing again Boba took a moment to try and cool himself. "As for the missions I know it's dangerous and the risks I'm running by sending you out there. That's why you're going with Mando."

"What?!" Orla yelled, throwing herself from the wall and storming towards her father. "If you wanna send me out then Ita best to tell you now, I work alone. I trust no one. Not even you right now. You taught me that! I'm an adult! I don't need some sort of babysitter! Or you telling me what I can and can't do with people!"

Lowering his head Boba stared at his daughter through the visor of his helm. "You're my daughter! My only family left Orla! I'm just trying to protect you! In and out of bounty hunting! And I've changed my opinion. At least when it comes to mando. So you're going with him on missions and that's final!"

Grinding her teeth together Orla set her piercing gaze on her father's helmeted face. She couldn't see it but she knew underneath his face was twisted with worry for her. "Fine. I get it. I won't argue. For now. Right now I'm tired physically, emotionally, and mentally. I haven't slept in a bed in I don't know how long. I haven't eaten anything today and I'm still trying to process everything. Let's talk more about this later?" Relaxing her gaze on her father softened, telling him she was done fighting.

Nodding his head in agreement, Boba looked towards Fennec in the doorway. "Show Orla to one of the rooms please so she may rest."

Turning, Fennec left down the hallway, leaving Orla to wander behind.

***

Sleeping was impossible. Tossing and turning in the unusual bed Orla replayed the events of her day in her head. The fact her father was alive and well - despite some gnarly scars and possibly some emotional damage - overwhelmed her. Everything she had known over the last five years was abruptly coming to a halt and she couldn't help the gut feeling that the actions of today were going to drastically change her life. She wasn't sure how but she knew they would.

The argument with her father wasn't how she wanted to say goodnight to her father but it was fitting. Before he left the last time she saw him they would constantly argue before he left for every mission. She didn't like it and it was stupid but it seemed to be their way of communicating with each other. It worked needlessly to say. They always heard the other out and usually came up with a middle ground where they could meet each other's requests. But this argument was different. Orla, much like her father, was not an open book. She didn't share her truest desires or feelings but seeing her father today set her emotions over the edge.

Groaning, Orla tossed over in bed looking at the chronometer on the wall.

4:34 am

"No use in sleeping," Orla grumbled.

Throwing the sheets off she climbed out of the bed and pulled on her slacks. Running her fingers through her hair yelping when she hit a knot, accidentally tugging on it. Giving up on her hair before even really trying to fix it she tucked her long unruly into the collar of her shirt, keeping it out of the way.

Shuffling her way down to the dining room the smell of freshly brewed caff welcomes her, pulling her towards her destination. Wondering if her father was already up by some miracle or perhaps he couldn't sleep either - neither of them were morning people - she rounded the corner into the dining area and was met with a surprising sight.

Standing at the counter pouring coffee was a man with luscious deep brown hair and soft tanned skin. He wore a gray old short sleeve and what appeared to be his flight suit pants. She couldn't see his face straight on but the tiniest bit of facial hair could be seen.

Gasping louder than she meant Orla realized it was the Mandalorian from earlier. Looking over to the table she saw his gleaming silver helmet staring back at her.

"Hi."

The single word filtered into her ears softly, causing her to whip her head back to the man.

Gawking she restudied the man. His eyes were gorgeous. A warm earthy brown that made it feel like summer was swimming around her. Ans his lips… she watched as he brought the mug up to his mouth, his lush lips kissing the rim as he drank.

"H-hi," she croaked.

Lowering the mug mando licked his lips before speaking. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be up for a while."

"I couldn't sleep," she said sheepishly.

Nodding in understanding, Mando moved from the counter and sat at the table in the middle of the room.

Making her way across the dining room Orla grabbed her own mug and poured herself a cup of caff. She could feel the Mandalorian's gaze burning into her back as she rummaged around I'm she cupboards, trying to find the object she was looking for.

"If you're gonna stare can I at least get a name to address you besides Mando?" Reaching behind some cans of food she found want she was looking for. Standing she uncorked the bottle and dumped the contents into her coffee.

Turning to lean against the counter she looked at Mando who was still eyeing her.

"Isn't it a bit early to start drinking?

Rolling her eyes Orla took a drink of her caff; the hot liquid and burning of the alcohol warming her insides and helping her relax. "Not in this family. It's never too early. More like too late by the time you find the alcohol." Taking another drink she rolled her shoulders, leaning further into the counter. "So do I not get to know your name? I'd like to know something about the man I am going to be spending most of my time with."

"Din."

Curling her lip Orla gave a soft 'hmm'.

Looking away from Orla, Din stared down into his mug. "I get the impression you don't like me very much. Any particular reason? Or do I just have to go off of the information I heard between you and your father earlier?"

Flushing, Orla's gaze burned into the side of Din's face. "That's none of your business. And now that I know your eavesdropping on my conversations it just gives me reason not to trust you even more."

"Not really eavesdropping when the two of you shout at the top of your lungs," he mumbled under his breath.

Seething, and knuckles white from gripping the mug so tight Orla let out an annoyed snicker.

"I'm just saying," Din said with a shrug as he turned to look back at Orla. "Your dad is just trying to protect you. He's scared of losing you again."

"And how would you know that?" She snapped back. "You've been part of my father's life, what, maybe a week?"

"I know what it's like. To lose a child," Din admitted heavily.

"Oh." Relaxing Orla made her way to the table and sat across from Din. "I-I’m so sorry. I didn't realize you were a father."

Sighing, Din gave a weak smile. "It's ok. He was a foundling I saved from the empire. He's with his people now. If it wasn't for your father I don't know what would have happened to the kid."

Looking down into her mug Orla fought the tears that tried to spring from her eyes. Of course, after everything her father had been through with her grandpa, and thinking he lost his own daughter he would help another man save his child. Again, her father was tough but when it came to children the poor man turned into a softy.

"I'm glad your kids safe," she whispered. "However," she raised her eyes back up to look at him, "that still doesn't mean I fully trust you."

"Who says I don't trust you either?"

Smirking Orla brought her mug up to her lips once again with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye. "Touché."

Din and Orla sat in silence for the next hour, sipping coffee and spacing out. It wasn't until they heard footsteps down the hallway they perked up and looked at who it was.

"My own daughter, up before me?" Boba chucked before ruffling her hair.

"Couldn't sleep. Fresh caff is brewing. Alcohol is in the cabinet."

Smiling Boba made his way to the counter, coming back a moment later with a steaming cup of spiked caff.

"Taking It you couldn't sleep either mando?"

Shaking his head Din finished the last of his coffee.

"Well, sorry to say but we've all got work to do today."

Groaning, Orla stood from her seat, downing the last of her coffee. "I'll go get ready then."

Before she could leave the room though she felt a tug on her hair; pulling it free from the collar of her shirt.

"Ad'ika… what is this? Please don't tell me you let your hair be like this all the time while I was gone." Boba scolded.

Orla smiled sheepishly at her father. "I never learned to braid after you left. So I just put it in a ponytail or bun. But when it's down it gets tangled so easily. It's just so thick.

"Orla," Boba chided.

"Papa! I didn't have the energy to learn when you left! And I was gonna cut it off but I couldn't bring myself to do it…"

"You're just like your mother. And if I ever find out you cut off your hair it might be the actual death of me." Chuckling Boba guided his daughter back to her chair. "Now sit."

Groaning Orla plopped herself down into her seat, letting her father pull apart the tangles in her hair. 

"Your so dramatic buir."

"And you're not?"

Both chuckling Boba continued to gently separate her hair into strands, braiding them together and picking up pieces as he went.

Across from them, Din went unnoticed as he watched intently; learning how to braid.

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

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Tag-list: @kesskirata @piscespussybabe @wanderlust69 @itssamcry @alis-into-wonderland @stardust-danvers  @g0ldenlush @sweet-silver

[dramatical-gatsbytalia]

A Messy Love Through the Ages - A SidLink AOC fic (Chapter One)

Well. Turns out you have to be invited to AO3. So I guess this is going up on Tumblr until I get my invitation. What a way to come out of fanfiction writer retirement. 

Bit of warning; I have yet to play Age of Calamity yet. I traded in two of my unwanted games and had just enough to get a copy of the game, but it sits on my shelf waiting. Calling to me.

However, this RP was done with someone who has played Age of Calamity in all of its entirety; @wilclhero and I have our second RP that I’ve decided to flesh out because there are few AOC SidLink fics out there. So thank you @wilclhero for your permission and so many great ideas when developing this with me. :)

And I also sat through the 2-ish hours of cutscenes strung together on YouTube to make a film. So like…it’s fanfiction. No one is expecting 100% accuracy. And since this game throws out any time things that make sense in regards to the timeline in Breath of the Wild, I can do it too. Because Jeremy Bearimy said I could.

Chapter 1

It had been a long and treacherous battle. Mipha had been holding off Ganon’s Water Blight for as long as she could, but she had exhausted most of her powers. And as the monstrous beast loomed overhead she had thought for a moment this was the end.

But she would live to see another day. For out of nowhere a trident shot catapulted through the air, destroying what she had been expecting as the final blow that would end her life. And as she looked up at the Zora in front of her she gasped. His deep red scales that matched her own, that charisma in his grin, only a twinkle in his youth, fully realized from the shy boy she had known in this timeline. That voice calling out towards the scourge. “I will not let you take her again!”

“Sidon?”

And just in time too. Joining her side was the courageous hero, Champion Link of the Hylians. And just like that, the tides turned, and Ganon’s Blight was defeated. From the jaws of defeat, they emerged victorious.

But Link’s footsteps were heavy as he, Mipha, and Prince Sidon emerged from Vah Ruta. His mind was still spinning, utterly exhausted from the hours of nonstop battle leading up to this moment. Things had moved so quickly he barely had time to reflect; the Calamity was here, King Rhoam of Hyrule was dead, and he had only barely managed to drag his screaming daughter, Princess Zelda, from Calamity Ganon’s clutches.

It had been King Rhoam’s command. But he didn’t feel any less a coward as he pulled her away to safety instead of aiding him. Sure, he was Zelda’s personal knight, but this was the ruler of his Kingdom. What hero was he to leave the king for dead? And after all of their preparations, things seemed so hopeless. All of the other Champions were still trapped inside their assigned Divine Beasts.

All of their hard work, those sleepless nights, hours training and hardening themselves for battle…all for nothing. In that moment, even the Hero felt doubtful.

Hyrule was going to fall. And it would be all his fault.

His gaze ended up locked on the tall figure in front of him. This wasn’t the little prince he knew. The Sidon he, only knee-high to a grasshopper, was always so shy and so quiet. Where had this prince come from?

And why had he saved them—saved Link? No one had ever saved the Hero before. He was always the one doing the rescuing. He was supposed to risk his life for royalty, not the other way around.

What was this feeling?

As he trailed behind the siblings he slouched. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life he had felt so tired and hopeless. But there was still so much to do. Three more Divine Beasts. The Yiga Clan. Ganon.

“I…I can’t keep going…” he whispered, though apparently loud enough, as the siblings stopped in their tracks to face him. He was going to die, he knew it. He couldn’t protect everyone, and Ganon was going to win because of it.

Mipha approached Link, searching for the calming words that could pull Link from the depths of his hopelessness. Something to give him home. But she was still searching, mind still reeling from the recent events, pulling herself from despair and her resignation that she was going to die.

It was Sidon who spoke first and broke the silence. Sidon approached them both, crouched down to their level—when had the two of them gotten so small? He towered over the two of them. He took Link’s hands in his, a sun-kissed tan swallowed in a sea of red scales. Had things always been this small?

Sidon didn’t know the reason for what he said next. He remembered looking up to Link, literally and figuratively, but it hadn’t ever gone past gazing up to his elders and seeing greatness. And perhaps the tiniest boyhood crush. But he wouldn’t let the other know that. In that moment there was something else…he couldn’t put his fin on it.

He squeezed Link’s hands ever so slightly, the other looking him straight on before he spoke. “You can do it. I believe in you.”

Mipha nodded in encouragement. “That’s right. You can do it. I know it seems like all hope is lost, but we must believe. We survived this. Who isn’t to say we’ll survive even more?”

Link looked wide-eyed to Sidon and Mipha. He was already so spent; what if the other Champions were already dead? But…but he knew that he had to try. He had people believing in him.

With a nod, they set off. One down. Three more to go.

---

It was hours before they were able to meet up again. But by the Goddess, that small amount of hope had been enough to get them all through. Everyone had now regrouped, and now with three additional party members from the future by their sides, they were triumphant in each and every battle against Ganon’s Blights.

But their most recent battle against the Thunder Blight had done a number on Link. It had been so fast, and seemed to land several blows on him despite the blond constantly adjusting his strategy to keep up with the blasted thing. And now, run ragged from exerting his energy in multiple battles, he needed Mipha’s help badly to recover.

Even with her healing powers being pushed to the limit that day, the Princess of the Zora still had room for her favourite Hylian. His skin practically sewed itself up again with her help, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious despite Mipha having done this countless times before. He had always hated being the centre of attention, that feeling of constantly being watched.

What didn’t help was that it was the eyes of not one, not two, but three members of royalty keeping a close watch on his healing process. With his role keeping watch over Zelda and Mipha doing the healing, he hadn’t thought that her brother would be getting a front row seat to his broken and bruised body stitching itself back together again. For some reason, his gaze felt the most intimidating.

When their eyes met he looked away. The prince had saved him, and it was impossible to wipe that from his mind. If it hadn’t been for that first battle, for the prince quite literally dropping in from nowhere, and his words of encouragement, he would not have made it through the day.

Link was just a lowly knight. Why did they all care so much? Especially Sidon.

As the last of his wounds were treated he ended up looking over again, their eyes meeting once more. Once again, he quickly looked away, willing away the redness that threatened to spread across his cheeks. Goddess, what was wrong with him?

Sidon couldn’t see it, but he could feel something there as well. He had always been enamoured by the other as a child. He was tall (or at least back then he was), brave and…handsome? Yes, that was it. He couldn’t place that feeling in his youth, and had been unable to pursue any feelings he had as a hatchling. After this was all over perhaps he could--

“There,” Mipha said as she was all finished. Link went to get his tunic, letting it fall back over his torso before going to pick up his sword. Even in the safety of their small, fortified camp, he could never let his guard down.

And it was then it hit Sidon. Yes, of course. Mipha was alive. His sister was alive! Those feelings he had had needed to be pushed aside; she had never been able to pursue her own happy ending in his timeline.  It seemed a shame, but it felt like the right thing to do. He wouldn’t get in the way of his sister’s affections for Link. He would see to it that she had her chance.

“Are you alright? Feeling better?”

Link nodded despite feeling like shit. While fantastic at fixing wounds, her healing powers could do nothing when it came to the exhaustion washing over him like a tidal wave. He tried to hide it, but it was obvious in the way he wobbled. Sidon, not wanting to interrupt but noticing the uneven sway in his step, put his hand to his back to even out his footing.

When Link looked to him in thanks he knew in that moment suppressing any burgeoning feelings was going to be a difficult task indeed. His balance restored, Sidon removed his hand, offering a charismatic smile to those in the tent with him. “You’ve all done well today, I knew we could do it!”

Ah, but it seemed perhaps he was just a bit too energetic for the mood in the room. It was late. Any leftover troops were gathered outside making quick meals to regain their strength. Perhaps it was time to eat and sleep. No doubt it would be a busy day tomorrow.

“It’s imperative we all rest. I’ll take my leave, I hope you all get an opportunity to get a good night’s rest.”

Mipha nodded and stood up. “Yes, I think that’s the best option.” Zelda only nodded in agreement, the weight of the day now resting heavily on her shoulders and rendering her silent.

But Link shook his head in protest. Not so much because he didn’t want to sleep; his body begged him for rest. But he had a job to do. How could he sleep with all that had happened today, with all that could still happen that evening? What happened if he wasn’t there, alert and ready to defend what was left of their small army.

Sidon seemed a bit shocked by Link’s answer, so he shook his head resolutely once again.

“…right…then I wish you all a lovely evening and a safe watch over us all tonight.”

With that, Mipha and Sidon exited the Zelda’s tent, Link following shortly after to keep guard outside. It wasn’t until they walked closer towards their own tents that Sidon really let his opinions be known.

“Does Champion Link really need permission to sleep at a time like this? Dear sister, this is ludicrous! We can’t just let that poor man stay up, it’s clear as day how exhausted he is!”

Mipha let out a small laugh, though it was mainly at her brother’s reaction rather than Link remaining awake. “I’m serious!” he continued. Didn’t you see the way he shook when he stood up and walked? Surely we won’t be able to put a dent in the Calamity if he’s in a similar state!”

She shook her head. “I was laughing at the way you’re so adamantly coming to his defense. It’s good to see that you’re still the hatchling I remember. Always kicking a fuss when he couldn’t get his way.” She meant no offense to her brother, and was quick to put his shock at her words to rest. “But you’ve grown…and it’s nice that your stubbornness for someone else’s sake rather than your own.”

She gave a heavy sigh though as she changed the topic. “I wish it were so easy to tell him to get some rest, believe me, I’ve tried. But it’s complicated. He takes his job as Zelda’s personal knight almost too seriously…”

Sidon huffed in response, crossing his arms, and then quickly uncrossing them as he saw his sister already laughing once more. Though as he passed a small faction of Hylian guards left over from King Rhoam’s army the wheels in his head began to turn. As he turned from his sister she looked on as he approached them, all smiles as he propositioned them for the chance that, as he would phrase it, could make or break their career as a knight and a hero.

“Gentlemen! I hope you are in high spirits after today’s grueling yet victorious fight! Say, are any of you lot on night watch? I was hoping we might have a moment to talk.”

---

As Link stood outside the tent, soon taking a sitting position as his legs were too tired to continue standing, he was quickly met with a problem. While there was nothing going on around him that put them all in any heightened state of alertness, that meant his mind had nothing to occupy itself. And with nothing to stimulate his mind, he quickly found himself succumbing to sleep.

He tightened his grip on his sword to try and force himself to stay awake, but as he rolled his head to stretch his shoulders he felt his eyes becoming heavy. And then shaking his head awake only worked in the beginning. Frustrated, he finally rested his chin against his chest. Perhaps if he let himself relax, just a small bit, it would be enough to keep him going.

It wasn’t long until he dozed off, lucky that his sword didn’t go clattering onto the ground.

Nearby, Sidon was leading the guard brave enough to volunteer his services towards Princess Zelda’s tent. “I don’t know if this will work, your highness. Master Link is very particular and doesn’t appreciate others meddling in how he keeps watch over the princess.”

Sidon waved that concern away. “Oh no, no, no, don’t think of it as meddling! Think of it as…” he paused for a moment, he needed to really sell this, “training! Yes, her personal knight is the Hero of Hyrule after all, perhaps you could learn some useful tips from him! Consider this akin to an apprenticeship!”

As they got closer he raised his hand to wave to Link, fully committed to convincing the other that he ought to really show this eager guard the ropes of what it took to be a true hero. Though upon closer inspection, and thankfully before his boisterous voice said anything to disturb him, he noticed Link had fallen asleep. Aha. He knew the other had been tired.

“Hmm…” he said, pausing for one moment to think. It occurred to him moments later what he could do. "Wait right here," Sidon said, and quickly retreated to his tent, where he took one of the blankets that had been given to him to use off the mattress. It wasn’t in the best shape and was far too small for himself, but was the perfect size to cover Link’s small frame and provide him some form of warmth while he got some much-needed rest.

He made haste in going back towards Zelda's tent where the Hero sat sleeping and the other guard stood waiting nervously. When he returned he carefully draped it over Link’s body, careful as he got closer so he didn’t wake him.

Much better. He stood up and pat the other guard on the back. “You can put your best foot forward to stay on guard. Wake him in case anything happens, but I have the utmost faith you will rise to the occasion.”

Giving the guard a thumbs up and whispering his thanks, Sidon moved to return to his own tent.

TBC

Do I know the order of events in the game? No. Do I care? Maybe a little. But this game doesn’t care about continuity, so why should I?

This is my first time writing fanfiction in…uh…ten years? Okay well not my first time in ten years. My first time in ten years was a few weeks ago for the SidLink gift exchange. That said, it’s my first multi-chapter fic in ten years.

I’ll do my best to keep updates…somewhat regular. If I can crank out 2-3 chapters a month that would be awesome. But I’m busy as hell 80% of the time. And the 15% I’m not busy I tend to spend on a nap. Constitution Day is coming up though so I’ll have some free time at the end of April and beginning of May.

Fingers crossed. I desperately want to get into writing again. That gift exchange fic was a good kick in the pants and I hope it lasts.

Thanks. And see you.

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Platonic) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1903

Warnings: Language, Angst

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Hi All, I apologise for the late upload, College have showed no mercy with the assignments this month XD As I mentioned before all Imagines and Requests are open, feel free to leave some constructive criticism and pointers as to how I can improve my writing for you all. 

Enjoy everyone!

The first thing I noticed about the house was how warm it was and I’m not talking about the temperature, the atmosphere just felt. Happy…almost safe. It felt weird, like I was an outsider barging in on this wonderful place, which I technically was doing thanks to the blue-eyed demon, my mind was screaming at me to run, we both knew that we didn’t belong in this place.

 They didn’t need me here ruining this wonderful family, all I brought was trouble and pain, the feeling of my back hitting something soft stopped whatever train of thought I had. Looking up, Mrs Barnes still had that gentle, kind smile on her face, her chestnut coloured hair falling from her shoulders as she slowly draped a blanket around me.

Now I was just plain confused, why was she being so nice to me? a street rat her son brought in from the night? I didn’t even realise I was frowning till she gently touched my cheek “Frowning doesn’t suit you sweetheart, but I know for a fact that you’ll have a beautiful smile once I’ve cleaned you up”. I could feel my eyes glossing over as another tear fell down my cheek, embarrassed I quickly wiped it away before Mrs Barnes saw it, fortunately she was busy gather things up, pulling out a few strange bottles I’d never seen before. 

One by one she placed everything down on the table, her eyes now trained and focused on me as she wet the towel and began cleaning some of the dried blood from my face, “I hope you don’t mind me asking sweetie, but how did this happen?” oh crap I was hoping she didn’t ask me that. Internally I started freaking out, I didn’t want to lie to this woman but what flipping choice did I have ?!, “I erm, fell off my bike earlier this week, I was trying to get away from some bullies and hit the curb” my eyes didn’t move from the floor as I said this, I’ve never felt so ashamed in my life, I lied to the kindest person I’d ever met.. it’s official I hate my life.

I knew for a fact that she didn’t believe me, the little sigh she let out told me everything I needed to know, but instead of asking me to leave she pulled me close and hugged me, my body froze up from the shock and to be perfectly honest I’d never been hugged before, so I had no clue about what to do. I mean I never prepared for this, a target wasn’t just gonna randomly stop fighting me and embrace me, were they? Slowly my arms curled around her back as she pulled me closer to her chest, her left hand coming to my head and stroking my hair. It broke me. Tears started streaming down my face, for the first time in my life I felt loved, not like a waste of space or a replaceable resource, but like a normal girl with a mother who loved her. Bucky’s mother quietly shushed me, comforted me till my tears stopped, pulling away from me to gently grab my cheeks and place a small kiss to my forehead.

Bucky’s POV

I’m not gonna lie, I was worried sick about y/n, I could hear mama and her talking for a while before it went silent. Steve knew she was here, he wouldn’t stop asking me about what happened to her and it was getting to us both that we couldn’t help her.

The guilt I felt from leaving her after the fight was constantly plaguing my mind, why did I leave her in that state? I should know something was wrong, for crying out loud why did she have to be down that alley?! What was she doing down there? what is she hiding from us?…A small cry brought me back to reality, my head turned towards the kitchen as worry filled my veins, was that mama or y/n? the not knowing was killin’ me, slowly I crept up to the kitchen door and what I saw broke my heart. Mama had y/n in her arms, whispering sweet words to her as the younger girl cried her heart out, something inside me physically ached and hurt at the sight, I wanted to kill whoever hurt y/n this much, I might not know a lotta about her, but nobody deserves this.

My mind was so focused on y/n that I didn’t even hear someone come up behind me, a hand clasped on to my right shoulder, I could tell from the height difference that it was Steve, both of us looking at the broken girl with hard faces. In that moment we both made a silent promise to each other, that as long as we were around nobody, and I mean f**cking nobody, was gonna harm our girl again.

Readers POV

I had no idea how long we stayed like that, a few floorboards behind me creaked but I paid no attention to them, Bucky’s mum kept me in her arms, like she was protecting me from the rest of the world. 

There’s no words to describe how much I appreciate this woman and her family, but I need to get away, they are too good to get involved with my mess, I had no doubt that soon the Црни лабуд would be heading over to my apartment to make sure I was still breathing. Pulling out of the hug was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do, but I don’t deserve this, “Thank you Mrs Barnes, I can’t thank you enough for being so kind, but I’m gonna have to get going, gotta get home before my carers notice I’m not there” my eyes fell to the floor half way through my lie, I knew she didn’t believe me, but she couldn’t do anything to stop me from going.

“You don’t need to thank me for anything Sweetheart, but it is quite late, you’re welcome to stay for dinner and I’d be much happier if you stayed here for the night, so I know that you’re safe.” Gently she placed her hand on my shoulder and raised my head to look her in the eye, this woman is a saint I’m telling you, my heart ached at her kindness and I longed to agree and stay. But I knew I couldn’t. “Thank you, Ma’am, but I’ll have to decline, I’ve imposed enough as it is, anyway you’ve already done so much for me” her bright green eyes dulled a little at my reply, she didn’t say anything else and pulled me in for a final hug before leading me to the door.

Our footsteps echoed off the walls of the hallway, the both of us in deep thought, I needed to stay away from this family there’s too many rival gangs who know who I am, they’ll do anything to get some leverage against the Црни лабуд. I’d rather die then let that happen, laughter coming from the living room stopped my thoughts and carefully peaked in from behind the door, a little girl was running away from Steve holding something that looked like a notebook, giggling away as she hid behind Bucky’s legs. A small smile crept onto my face as I watched the pair play with the girl, Steve falling to the floor and letting out dramatic cries as Bucky held him had me crying with laughter, the little girl was standing on the sofa behind them looking triumphant brandishing the notebook in the air. She must have heard me laughing, because the next thing I knew she was running over to me, she launched herself straight at my legs and hugged them, her bright blue eyes meeting mine as I gave her a friendly smile.

“Hi, I’m Becca! Are you buck’s new friend?” oh my god she is so adorable, her black hair was tied up in a pretty little plait with a red bow, her eyes were one of the most beautiful shades of blue, you could tell that she lit up every room wherever she went. “Hi Becca, I’m y/n and yeah you could say in a friend of your brothers” I’m pretty sure in the background the boys had stopped fooling around and were watching me and Becca, I paid them no mind as I bent down to her level, “You’re names very pretty sweetie, I think I already prefer you to your brother, he smells a bit, doesn’t he?”. Her eyes widened as she struggled to stifle her giggles, we both took one look at each other before bursting out laughing, the boys chuckling and shaking their heads at the both of us, even Bucky’s parents let out a few chuckles.

“Well it was lovely meeting you Becca, I’m gonna have to go now, but I’ll come and see you soon okay?” her smile fell a bit and she reluctantly let go of me, my heart felt heavy with the lie I just told this little girl, but it had to be done.  “Yeah okay! bye y/n” one last hug and she was off, trailing after her father as he readied her for bed.  Okay time to go y/n, the more time you spend here the more you put the family in danger, one more wave and you’re going, “y/n? you already leavin’?” ugh, why do these boys have to make everything so difficult? Turning to face the blonde-haired boy was a very stupid decision, a frown on his face, his eyes looking into mine as he hurried to catch up with me.

“I’m sorry Steve, I really am but I gotta get home, it’s already late enough as it is” why are they making this hard? They don’t even know me…then again who does. I start to pull away from him, needing to get away to clear my head, feeling my eyes starting to water from the immense sadness I was feeling. “Why do you always turn and run? Bucky told me you ran away from him earlier, as soon as he asked what happened you just bolted. Why?” my question is why do these boys have to be so goddamn nosey all the time, “Steve, please just drop it, I have my reasons for acting the way I do, ones that don’t concern you or Bucky. So please just let me go home, I’m already tired enough as it is”. I’ve had enough of this crap for today, quickly I turned on my feet and started heading away from him, my mind so clouded with exhaustion that I almost didn’t hear Steve,  though I’d have more chance of platting fog before that happened that lads gotta a voice that can’t be ignored.

“Who’s doing this to you? why won’t you let us protect you, me and buck won’t let anyone hurt you ever again, just come back inside…please y/n” Steve sounded so sure of it, that he could protect me from the Црни лабуд, a single tear and a bitter laugh escaped me. “Steve…I’m not the one who needs to be protected, I’m the one that people protect their families from.” confusion flooded his features, but I didn’t pay it any mind, turning round and walking away, leaving Mrs Barnes in tears and the two boys broken hearted.

Hope you all enjoyed :) Thanks For Reading! Rose xx

[only-here-for-jatp]

The Secret Chord pt 1

A season 2 speculative fic

Alright @random-nerd-3 here it is.

This chapter features: Juke. Lots of Juke. Also brother-sister Carlos and Julie time.

Read it on Ao3 here

And below ~1800 words

It’d been a really long day.

Like a really long day.

Like the kind of day that somehow managed to seem like the Fortunately, Unfortunately book from school.

Fortunately, they were determined to play the Orpheum! Unfortunately, they had no idea how to do that.

Fortunately, they created a plan with the help of Willie, and it worked! Unfortunately, they’d then been kidnapped by Caleb and forced to play in his house band.

Fortunately, Julie managed to take a step and be brave for them and play on stage solo! Unfortunately, this meant she thought the boys had vanished from existence.

Fortunately, the boys appeared, and she could be relieved that they were safe and sound! Unfortunately, they weren’t, the jolts were still going to destroy them as they hid in her studio.

Fortunately, she’d found them, collapsed in the dark. She saved them

She saved them.

Now here she was able to touch them. Touch them. She was laughing and sobbing and warm as she huddled with them in this group hug. She never wanted to let go of these boys who meant so much to her, who pulled her through her grief and offered her light. She held on as tight as she could to these boys, scared that any minute the magic would be broken. Scared that any minute this would be a cruel trick of fate and she would lose the ability to touch them.

That they’d cross over and would be gone in the blink of an eye.

She didn’t want them to go, didn’t want them to leave. Yet she couldn’t fathom what might be left in their unfinished business. Here they were happy and safe and okay, so what could be left?

The warmth was slowly seeping out of her, replaced by cold and panic. She could feel her breathing become uneven and ragged. She couldn’t leave them. She couldn’t let go. If she let go, if she took her eyes off them for even a second, they might vanish. She couldn’t. Just couldn’t. She was gulping for air and her boys were looking at her with the beginnings of concern, the smiles sliding off their faces.

This was their moment of joy and celebration; she couldn’t ruin it. Ignoring her racing hearts and burning lungs and plastered a smile on her face. Hoping the boys would let her get away with the obviously fake performance.

She spoke, hoping her voice was stronger and more sure than she felt. “I need to go talk with Carlos and grab some stuff, but could I stay down here with you guys tonight?”

The boys offered her a soft smile, sensing a little her cause for concern. Truth be told they were grateful, their own gnawing anxieties demanding to be recognized. None of them wanted to let go of the other for fear of losing this precious magical moment. They would be more than happy to bundle Julie up in their arms and never let go.

It wouldn’t be the first time they’d all slept in the loft together. There’d been movie nights a plenty in order to catch the boys up on popular culture. Not to mention the late-night whispered song writing sessions where Luke and Julie sat together on the couch. They would be so close that every now and again they would sink into each other on accident. Sheepish smiles would grow across their faces as they reluctantly put the distance back. This time though would be a very special kind of first and the boys felt warmth spread through them as it was proven once again how important they all were to her.

Julie noted the boy’s eager nods and smiles as she retreated from the hug. Her anxiety and panicked still crawled over her skin as a sense of restlessness tugged at her from the inside, begging her to run.

Reggie and Alex stepped away slowly, their eyes never leaving her face. Luke on the other hand trailed his hand across her back, down her arm, and lightly toyed with her fingers before intertwining his hand with hers. He would follow her anywhere, but right now, he was simply desperate to never let go.

Julie shivered as she felt Luke’s not quite warm hand tracing down to her fingers. Even though he may not radiate heat, a trail of heat still followed. She watched as hid hand slipped into hers and gripped it tight. Her eyes darted to his as the rest of the world fell away. They were still tinged with red and dark circles hanging beneath. His actual physical state may scream exhaustion, but his eyes felt so alive. There was light and love pouring out surrounding her and filling her up. She let the feel of his hand in hers ground her as his smile and his joy and his relief traveled through her soothing her restless anxiety, and at least temporarily ridding her of the fear and panic.

Every now and again the thought flashed across her mind that these boys and Luke especially, may be dead, but they brought her to life. A genuine smile spread across her face and she watched Luke perceptible relax as she did. Julie lightly swung the hand that was holding him and with a laughing tone remarked “I guess you’re coming with me”

His smile shifted into one he knew caused pretty much everyone around him to melt as he leaned down to whisper three words softly into her ear.

“As you wish”

Julie and Luke meandered their way to the house, enjoying comfortable silence and frequent meaningful glances. She couldn’t help the flashes of joy every time they made eye contact and the sudden overwhelming shyness when she looked away. Something was changing and shifting with each small smile and hand squeeze. It was making her feel a little breathless with anticipation, like she wanted to push and rush. Everything in her wanted to pull him close and wait for everything to break and explode and move.

Instead she kept walking, one foot in front of the other, each step growing heavier as she made her way to Carlos’ room. She didn’t quite know how to explain the rollercoaster which had been the past month and thought maybe it’d be better to leave out Caleb. When she arrived outside Carlos’ door, she hesitated.

Luke squeezed her hand and whispered, “You’ve got this handled no doubt in my mind, but if you want some support I’m here.”

Julie could feel herself soften as she squeezed his hand back, “I’ve got this. I’ll meet you in my room in a few minutes?”

He nodded and reluctantly let go of her hand. Sliding out as softly as he had begun, making sure to trail his fingertips along her palm and up her fingers to her fingertips before moving quietly to her room.

Carlos took the news surprisingly well and with all the excitement of a ten-year-old boy. In fact, the most accurate world was thrilled, especially after he did the man-of-the-house threatening bit should these ghosts hurt her. She’d wrapped him in the biggest hug, knowing that her brother would stand by her, even if it meant facing something, he could neither see nor hear.

The moment though that she knew telling him was the right choice came as she stood by the door. He’d tucked himself in, but he sat up slowly and looked at her for a second. She watched his mouth move as if he struggled to form the words before very softly asking.

“Have they seen mom?”

She moved back to his bed and scooched him over so she could climb in. Within seconds, he was curled up next to her, his head buried in her side. Gently, she rubbed his back and hummed a little tune.

“No Carlos they haven’t. However, I can’t help but believe that mom sent them to me. To us. Not to mention, they’re under strict instructions that if they ever run into her in that afterlife of theirs to tell her how much I love her. If you want, I can make sure they tell her you do too.”

Carlos nodded, already drifting off to sleep. Julie made sure to stay until he was completely out, never pausing in the soft circles her hand was moving in up and down his back. Carefully she tiptoed her way out of the room, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

Julie couldn’t stop the smile slipping over her face at the sight of Luke laying in her bed, hands in the air and mumbling something that sounded like a pep talk under his breath.

Luke was in fact muttering a pep talk under his breath because here he was lying on Julie Molina’s bed in Julie Molina’s room doing his very level best not to touch anything. In fact he very deliberately put his hands in the air so he could keep an eye on them the whole time.

More than that from his very first moment with Julie Molina wrapped his arms, he knew she belonged there. Not that he doubted that before, but after nearly losing her in more than one way tonight he couldn’t bear to wait anymore. So here he was in the most incredible girl’s room hyping himself up that he could find the right words to tell her how much he needed her.

When his eyes caught hers though, a little damp and shimmery, but looking at him like he belonged there some of his fear fled replaced with hope. He stood and slowly made his way over to her, “Julie, I-“

Julie knew Luke. She knew the way he found words in the air and could make them into a masterpiece. She knew he would do anything for his friends and his family. She knew he’d done everything possible to never let her down again, to always support her. She could read him as if they were in each other’s heads. So when he cautiously stepped forward, she could see all the feelings swimming in his eyes. How could she not, when they were in her own?

She took her own small step forward, cutting him off, too excited to wait “Me too.” She thought she might burst at the half sigh, half laugh. She continued, reaching out to wrap her arms around him- “You’re a part of me”

His hand cradled her face so gently, while the other pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Now till eternity.” Slowly he moved his forehead to rest against hers. While he didn’t breathe, he could feel hers against his face. Noses touching, he asked “Can I?”

She pulled him closer in response. She could feel the momentum pulsing through her as she tilted her head, reaching for him.

And then….

[princessjungeun]

I’ll Always Have Your Back: Ryujin x Reader

TW/ the words Panic attack is used once, not in detail. Just the two words :)

Request: Hello, I don't actually know what the (!) is for but can I request a fluff au where ryujin x female reader are interested in each other but either one of them are oblivious?

I combined my one angst idea from earlier along with this one, i think it fits the request too. I based this mostly off of the episode of MIXNINE where Hyunjin moves Heejin from one group to another. If you don’t remember just look it up on youtube, it’s up there!

You woke up nervous but also ready to take on whatever the day threw at you. Today was the very last round of the survival show you’d been cast on. So far you’d dominated the competition, staying in the top five since round 1. Tensions rise as people try their best to steal your spot, it’s especially easy because the person who runs the show doesn’t show any mercy. Contestants can do from 1st to last place in one single performance, something you’ve avoided at all costs.

Out of all the girls in the competition you were friendly with many, close even. But only one girl you actually had a true relationship with. Your best friend and label mate, and lowkey crush Ryujin. You both had known each other for two years already, training together everyday and even sharing a dorm together. You two both relied on each other throughout this competition, talking each other through hardships often too.

You both weren’t really sure why your company chose this show. Due to contract issues with your company, JYP, even if you placed first or were chosen to debut from this show, you couldn’t. For this reason you, Ryujin, and the few other girls from your company were just confused. However, you were told that if you did well here, it’s liken your chances of debuting when the show was over, in JYP.

You found Ryujin in the morning, you two were put in different rooms based on tonight’s performance. You slipped your hand in hers and sat down next to her, resting your hands on your thigh. She looked at you for a minute before smiling and nudging you playfully with her shoulder. The host of the show met you all along with the PD-nim that ran the show.

“Good morning ladies.” The host welcomed you all with a smile. “As usual you all will choose teams based on song, you all will choose by rank, those on top get first pick. Those on the bottom will get whatever is left over. You all will prepare all week and perform at the end of the week. Please choose your teams wisely as this is your last performance, there is no opportunity for redemption. This weeks songs are Gee, Girls Generation. The other option is Simon Says, NCT 127.”

The room bustled with excited whispers and laughs, girls already knowing where they wanted to go. Ryujin didn’t say anything as she was thinkihh nag deeply about where she wanted to go. You asked “what are you picking?” She snapped out of her trance then said “Gee...I always do the boy songs or girl crush songs. I want to do cute this time.” You felt a pit form in your stomach because you knew that was a bad idea.

Last time Ryujin was on the team that did a cute song she was moved from second place to tenth. She claimed she just had an off day but you knew that it was because she wasn’t skilled enough in that area yet. Ryujin was a dancer who fit boy group dances the best, she had a lot of power. She didn’t have the cute factor yet, that she was still learning in your company. You on the other hand were better at the cute concept songs, however you liked the boy group and girl crush songs better. You liked dancing powerfully rather than cutesy.

You asked her “but what about what happened last time? You’re not scared?” She responded confidently “not at all. I know what I have to do differently now. Plus Simon Says choreography is too hard to dance to while singing, my vocal isn’t stable enough...I can’t.” You sighed and let her have it her way, you knew now was not the time to tell her what you really thought.

The cameras were ready to start filming and it was time to choose groups. The PD-nim sat at the head of the room, watching you all choose. They went by tank calling your name first. “Y/N, please choose your team.” You walked over to the side for Simon Says, out of the corner of your eye you saw the PD-nim nod his head ever so sightly. Next was Ryujin “Shin Ryujin, please choose your team.” She walked to the Gee sode, and once again you noticed the PD-nim. But this time he shook his head softly, nobody noticing but you. A few people whispered and there was a moment of silence before the next name was called.

You all waited until the very last girl was called, only then could you all break off to go practice. In your group was a mix of skill levels, most of them were dancers but had great vocal stability. The other two were the ones who got last place and forcibly had to join.

You all spend an hour distributing parts making sure that you al chose ones that best suited your abilities. You as the leader of the group wanted everyone to have an equal opportunity at success, especially those who weren’t in the top ten.

You tried your best not to be distracted by the fact that you knew Ryujin was unintentionally sabotaging herself only a door over. One of the girls on your team spoke up, “how about we break for five minutes, you seem distracted?” You nodded and said “everyone do whatever for five, just be back on time ok?” Everyone around you nodded and the oldest girl on your team sat down next to you.

“Whats on your mind love?” Haseul placed a hand on your back and rubbed it softly. You responded “Ryujin...she made a stupid decision.” Haseul asked “why do you say that?” You told her “Ryujin isn’t fit for a cute concept yet. She can pull off almost anything you throw at her but cute isn’t one of them. She knows that too. Back in our company she struggles whenever she does a cute song for evaluations. I understand she wants to try new things but here, with her own debut on the line. This is a terrible idea. I know she’ll be knocked right out of the top ten after the end of the week.”

Haseul nodded and said “well I think that given where she is now, and the fact that some girls in this group aren’t fit for this concept either, you shouldn’t worry so much. Ryujin is an amazing performer and you know that. Who knows? She could surprise us right?” You sighed and nodded “yeah you’re right...thanks unnie.” She nodded then stood up, reaching out to help you too.

Your group practiced all day until nightfall. All trainees were now in the same room from this morning, ready to be dismissed to your dorms.

The host and PD-nim walked in, a smile ghosting his face. The PD-nim sat down then spoke up “good evening ladies, you all have worked hard today yes?” You all nodded in unison with smiles hoping it could cover your exhausted faces. He spoke up “as usual, I have a surprise up my sleeve.”

You all looked at each other nervously not knowing what to expect. He’s thrown almost every curveball at you all and now you don’t know what could be next. He’s changed songs, language of the song, swapped members out of his own choice, last minute role reversals. Everything you could think of, he’s done it.

He continued “the girl who is currently holding first place, has the opportunity to switch someone from one team to another. She may switch someone with someone else, or switch herself with another girl. It is purely her choice.” He looked at you “Y/N, you are currently holding first. You have five minutes to make your decision. You may go outside now, everyone else back to your practice rooms please.”

Everyone walked back to their rooms, Haseul and another unnie kept the other girls on your team from trying to convince you to swap them with someone else. You sat down in a corner far from everyone else not knowing what to do. As much as you wanted this song performance to be your last, you knew you had to switch you and Ryujin.

You knew that swapping yourself into Gee would make you look like you played it safe, but it was the only option. If you stayed here there was a chance you’d not do as well as you’d hoped. More importantly if Ryujin stayed with Gee, she’d make at most 12th place which was a huge drop from 2nd.

A producer came to get you from the practice room, you turned around on your way out. You waved to the rest of your group, you told them “take care of her when she comes in please...” They gave you smiles and big thumbs up in hopes it would wipe away the look of worry that masked your face.

Slowly, you opened the door to the Gee room, everyone sitting in the room looked at you. Ryujin smiled along with everyone else but you knew it’d be short lived. You knew how much she wanted this and how she felt that this was the only one she’d do well with. Toying with your fingers you looked down at your feet before saying “I’m switching someone here...and they’re going to Simon Says team...”

Everyone looked at you anxiously, however Ryujin showed no sign of worry. You could tell she was under the impression that you weren’t going to move her. After all you were her best friend, you wouldn’t do that to her, well that’s what she told herself.

You continued “I’m switching myself with...Ryujin-ah.” The room fell silent and you locked eyes with the black haired girl. She didn’t have a readable look on her face. She asked “wait...are you serious?” You nodded and said “you’d better get going...they’re waiting for you”. You saw a look of betrayal and fear wash over her face. You knew she lacked confidence in her ability to perform this song. You knew she wanted this song more than anything else despite you knowing it was a bad idea.

She got up and walked out silently, you could tell she was trying her best to hold back tears. You didn’t have the time to explain to her your reasoning, she just thought you were trying to sabotage her. That you didn’t think about her, only yourself.

The second you heard the door close you could hear her crying. You wanted to run out and pull her into your arms. You yearned to tell her why you did this but you couldn’t. The girls in your new group asked “why would you do that?” You responded “it’s for her own good...” Your voice cracked and another girl from your company wrapped an arm around you gently. That was all it took for you to cave into her, sobbing softly. She ans other girls surrounded me in a group hug and told you various things to try and console you.

When you all were called back into the large room your PD-nim smiled at the sight of you and Ryujin having switched places. You sat down and leaned back just slightly to see if you could spot Ryujin. She was sitting down next to Haseul, eyes puffy and red with tear streaks on her cheeks. Your PD-nim dismissed you all and you immediately walked over to Ryujin in hopes that she’d hear you out.

That hope was short lived, when you approached her she dodged your hug and said “no...just stop.” You left it at that knowing it was best if you let her have her space, no matter how much it hurt you.

Luckily Haseul was your roommate in this dorm, immediately she came to your side once you all were in your rooms. She told you “she’s not happy as you saw, she doesn’t understand and thinks you weren’t thinking at all.” You asked her “did you try and explain to her?” The older girl told you “it’s not anyone’s place but yours. She wouldn’t believe us anyways, give her time ok?” You hugged her and said “yeah thanks Haseul.”

•

•

•

All week Ryujin ignored you, anytime you made eye contact with her all you saw was hurt and betrayal in her eyes. You couldn’t get away to talk to her as cameras and producers watched your every move.

It was now the day before the final performance and you absolutely couldn’t focus. Guilt was eating you alive and you wondered if you actually did make the right choice. All you wanted was to hold her in your arms and explain yourself, you couldn’t focus on anything at this point.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when a producer came in and pulled two cameramen into the hallway. The girls in your group followed to the door out of curiosity and saw Haseul and two other girls with Ryujin walking to the bathroom. You asked a producer what happened and he responded “panic attack”.

Your heart just continued to break throughout the day, thinking about how none of this would have happened if you just let her stay in Gee team.

At the end of the day you went to your dorm, Haseul was already there. You asked her “what happened today...is she ok?” Haseul responded “yeah. She’s ok now. She was overwhelmed with the moves, she was getting the counts wrong for half of practice. The she messed up the words too, it was too much and...well you saw.” You nodded and sighed before deciding to just sleep off whatever you were feeling.

•

•

•

It was fifteen minutes before your performance and your group was going second. Team Simon Says was first meaning the Ryujin was first up. You anxiously watched the monitors backstage praying that she’d do well or this was all for nothing and you’d feel even worse than you already did. Seeing the girls walk onstage before the song started, Ryujin looked nervous.

The second the music started however, it was like a switch flipped. She shone onstage and looked more natural than ever. More importantly she looked like she was enjoying herself even if she truly wasn’t. At the end of the performance the PD-nim made comments. He told certain girls that they did well, other not so much. He spoke about everyone but Ryujin until the very end.

He said “Ryujin-ssi. You did very well here. This stage wouldnt have been the same if you weren’t here. If I remember correctly you were originally on team Gee correct?” Ryujin nodded, toying with her fingers nervously. He continued “you need to be grateful Y/N switched you with her. If you were on that team, I guarantee you wouldn’t be anywhere near the place I’ve marked you at. Well done today.” She bowed and thanked him with a smile before walking with her team offstage.

Your team performed and did very well too. The PD-nim gave his commentary to everyone first. Saving his last comments for you.

He told you “Y/N-ssi, you switched yourself with Ryujin, I would like to know why.” You hesitated then spoke up “well you see... um. Ryujin-ah, she is a very talented dancer. And she is fully capable of doing a cute concept such as this. However, she can struggle sometimes with pulling it off 100%. But with me, I know I can do cute concepts a little better because my dance isn’t as strong as hers...I envy that sometimes. But anyways. I knew that if I switched her with me, there’s a higher chance of her staying on top, even if it means I have to play it safe and potentially lose first place.”

He nodded then concluded “so you moved her so she could take first and debut, even if that meant you don’t get to?” You nodded said “yeah...that’s exactly it.” He smiles and said “well done Y/N-ssi.” He dismissed your team and sent everyone backstage.

You and Ryujin’s team were separated by room, your teammates anxiously sitting around waiting with you. Your ranks were to be released momentarily, however the debut list depended on whatever the audience and PD-nim wanted. That lineup would be released

When you all were called back onstage Ryujin was still far apart from you. She stood at the far end of her group while you were in the front of yours.

The PD-nim told you “I will release names from the bottom up, please watch the screen closely for your name.”

The screen across from him lit up, trainees names appearing slowly. You waited and waited your name not showing up at the bottom or middle, Ryujin’s doing the same. The screen revealed the top five at once. Your name was at five, Ryujin’s four slots above yours, she placed 1st. You froze in your spot seeing that your plan had worked, she was in first, even if that meant you weren’t.

•

•

•

Cameras were finally off and you all were finally able to relax some. Ryujin came to you, she asked “outside?” You nodded and looked around before sneaking outside your dorm building.

She turned to you and threw herself in your arms, holding you close. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself and that was wrong...I’m sorry.” You told her “it’s ok, I just wanted you to do well, I know that we can’t debut from here but I wanted your odds to increase for when we go back home.”

She stated “you’re too good for me, I don’t deserve you in my life...” You told her “don’t say that Ryu, you and I both know that’s not true.” She told you “i don’t know why you always do these things for me, no matter what will happen to you, you just make sure i’ll be the one on top in the end.”

You laughed to yourself and said “you do crazy things when you’re in love I guess...” Ryujin turned to you “w-what?” You told her “I love you Ryujin. I’ve loved you since the day you taught me the choreography on my first day of training. I really really love you.”

She slipped her hand out of yours and pressed your back against the brick wall of your dorm building. She flushed her body against yours and kissed you, cupping your face softly.

Ever so quietly she told you “I love you too Y/N. So so much.” You pulled her in and hugged her closely, tucking her head in your neck. Kissing the top of her head softly you smiled to yourself. You told her as you ran your hands through her hair, “I’ll always have your back Ryu.” She replied, her soft lips ghosting your skin “and i’ll always have yours.”