#or most likely just Opportunist kissing up to Skeptic

[beartitled]

so after the new content any thought on the opportunist?

He was, currently is and always will be a sleazy littol bird butt 🪶

[thatbangtanbloom]

like cat and mouse | 1

/gif is not mine

like cat and mouse | bts

teaser | 1

categories: suspense, (possibly angst), smut!

pairings: ot7 x reader

genre: mafia!bts, mafia!reader

warnings: curse word, guns mentioned, jimin gets a blow job,hoseok vv skeptical of reader!! , dirty talk, mention of crime

[seeing the warm response, here is the first chapter!]

- - - - - -

From the outset of your meeting, something had told them that you were different. Perhaps it was the sway of your hips as you sauntered over to the boldest of them and cleared your throat as though you belonged there. Or it could have been your first meeting with the third oldest that sent them all trembling in their knees.

You had come across Park Jimin first. He was well renown for his negotiation strategies and his excellence in persuasion. It was a rarity that they did not show up together, but you found yourself more privy to taking chances than questioning why the blonde man had come alone.

“You must be Park Jimin,” You greet him with a hand resting on the small of his back. Your voice is anything but soft and demure, but it has Jimin turning on his heels to face you with amusement. It was rare that women approached him and dared to call him by his first name in a tone that sounded as demanding as yours did.

Jimin’s brow raises at you as he tries to recognize you. He knows better than to assume you have come with someone - no one would dare let their woman come within fifteen feet of the Seven’s prized Casanova. Too often, he had also been approached by opportunists eager to seek their teeth into him, but something about your poise had him thinking differently. Were you someone who was different? “That is me.. and who might you be?”

“You can find out if you keep me interested.” You remark simply as you glance over the men who have long stopped talking to focus on the dynamic between Jimin and you. “I’ve heard about you and I wanted to see for myself if the rumors are true.”

“And if they are?” Jimin replies as he unbuttons the bottom button of his blazer to tuck his right hand into his pocket. Your confidence is far too high for a rookie, yet your boldness is too much for a seasoned veteran. He’s certain he’s never seen your face here before, so why was he still giving you the time of day?

You scoff at his words, “I’d say that you’re worthy of a pursuit then.” You purposely bump your shoulder with his when you pass by, slipping a piece of paper into his palm as you leave just as quickly as you came.

Your lasting impression did not take much for Jimin to join you in the piano room on the second floor fifteen minutes later. He was well aware of the alarming degree of your presence; how he did not have the slightest clue as to who you are and other guests at the party remarking you as the daughter of so-and-so, but he could not draw up an image that could make up for the fraction of your presence. God, it only made him want you ten times more.

“You’re the predictable one, huh?” You remark when you hear the mahogany door close. Leather shoes cross the floor when you are greed by a kneeling Jimin accompanied with a smirk on his face. “I see you read my note.”

Jimin scoffs, “I think it was rather bold of you to tell me your plans.” It had been bold to tell Jimin that you anticipated him taking you home that night. “You know who I am. Do you think I am that foolish to take you back to the place where my brothers and I live?”

Brothers. The smile on your face only spreads. They really did believe that fictitious lie that everyone said they did. “No. If I did, I would have targeted the eldest one. He’s much more fun to play with.” You say as you look up from over your book to meet the hardening look of Jimin. Competition must have been ingrained in them. “I don’t like to blindside people. It’s much more fun to see how you’ll stop me. It would keep both of us guessing. Don’t you think?”

“Mmmm.” Jimin remarks as he sits on the coffee table in front of you. His eyes meticulously run over your clothes: he takes in the curve of your hips, the way the velvet appears to hug you in all the right places, but something feels off. He notices no bulge of a knife or the sliver of a gun. “You came here unarmed?”

You close the book and place it to the side, “If I wanted to kill someone, I would do it with my hands. That’s how I do most things. I like things messy.”

“Fuck,” Jimin rasps as he brings his hand to his mouth. He’s far more invested in the double entendre you’ve elicited from him. It was a rule that the Seven held that they would not bring anyone, under absolutely no circumstances, to their shared home. That was the Sanctuary. That was where their plans were made, where their livelihoods lived, and how they were able to escape from their daily life. Yet, there was no rule in him bringing you back to his apartment. Right?

So that was what brought you to where you were now, on your knees with your cheeks hollow full of Jimin’s hard cock in your mouth. His pants are bunched at his ankles as he guides his hand on the back of your head with an anything but soothing touch. He’s a demanding lover, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty choking on my cock like this. Wanna cum all over your pretty tits and make you mine over and over again…” Jimin’s voice has dropped another octave the second his cock hits the back of your throat. He’s left perplexed as your tongue grazes over the underside of his cock and he barely needs to guide you to his own pleasure.

Just who the hell were you?

He’s nearly gone as his hips bucking into your mouth with every thrust of his hips. His cock throbs inside of your mouth, wanting to feel all of you in every way possible. His praise doesn’t stop, “Can’t wait to feel what your tight pussy is like… you’re already being a good girl taking my cock like this. Imagine how nice it’ll feel with my thick cock in your wet cunt, begging for more of me like the good slut you are.” His words do have an effect on you, especially evident with your arousal that has long begun to peek from your thighs onto your Givenchy dress to leave love stains. Jimin’s experienced enough to know what good sex feels like, and somehow, you were beyond his expectations. It takes everything in him to not cum in your mouth immediately - especially with your dress sliding down your shoulder to show the curve of your breast or hot he spots your fingers creeping between your thighs as you tease your clit from how pretty he sounded.

“Wanna cum inside of you,” Jimin grunts as another thrill of pleasure runs through him at the thought. His chest rises and falls in anticipation as he feels the familiar knot in his stomach further entangle itself from your ministrations. You long have opted to choke on his cock, somehow being correct in your assumption that it boosted his ego. “Fuck- fuck-fuck,” He closes his eyes tightly, “Soojin-ah, please.”

You almost don’t catch your alias that leaves his lips, but you pull away with a lewd pop. “Ah? Is Park Jimin so fucked out that he can’t even speak? Mmm? Did I suck your cock that good where you can’t talk?” You ask as your nail traces along his jawline. He’s not used to someone speaking to him so lewdly, but that only spurs the leaking precut from his cock to grow. You’re so fucking hot that he can’t even stand it. “Use your words.”

“Make me.” He bites back before gripping you by your hips in one swift motion and sinking you down onto his cock. The sudden stretch leads you caught off guard, but you no longer feel empty when Jimin begins to thrust his hips deeper into your wet sex. Your hips soon match his own cadence, rising and falling like a piano crescendo as you ride his cock. “Shit. Who taught you to ride like this? You’re such a good slut and all for me, huh?”

Ah. All for him. You almost laugh. Clearly he had a possession kink. “Mmm,” You moan in pleasure as he soon gives your neglected clit attention. His fingers draw figure eight’s around the sensitive gem, making you bend into him as his hips rhythmically meet your g-spot over and over again. “Jimin, you’re fucking me so good…”

“I know baby,” He rasps before slapping your ass for added stimulation. You hate how easy it is for him to conjure up the tightness in your stomach, your own pussy aching for more from how sexy he looks: his lips stained with your lipstick, the tie loosely dangling from his neck as his shirt is unbuttoned all the way with red marks reminiscent of the bites you left on him. You, too, had a preference for leaving your mark on people. To add on to that, his tattoos are like hidden jewels kissing his skin. He’s beautiful. “Your pussy’s so fucking good that I might just keep coming back to you,” He grunts as he bottoms out inside of you and you’re filled to the hilt. It’s more than enough for you to squeeze him closer by his shoulder, sighing as you roll your hips against his own for the added friction.

“I’m close, Jimin-“ You rasp when he stills inside of you. The ache in you returns, wanting more of his hard thrusts. “Fuck me harder… I’m going to cum-“

Jimin moans, “Me too, beautiful.” He groans as he pistons his hips deeper into your sex. The sound of skin clapping against skin fills the room, soon accompanied by your own moans and Jimin’s own of pleasure. “You’re so fucking tight for me, yeah? Only I can fuck you like this.” He bites into the crevice of your shoulder when he bottoms out inside of you one last time. “Fuck, I’m going to cum-“

He blossoms inside of you without another word, grunting in pleasure as his fingers rub against your own clit more furiously to drag you down to your own high. It only takes one, two, three more strokes before you’re wilting inside of him as his cum fills you to the brink. “J-jimin,” you stammer out as he continues to ride out both of your highs, your dress long torn and bunched around your waist forgotten until he begins to overstimulate you. “P-please-“

“Round 2?” He rasps as his eyes flash mischievously. His cock still inside of you, eager for another round. He’s hungry for you - starving practically despite your previous rendezvous. “You’re so good, baby.” He sounds so sure of it, like he can read you like the back of his hand.

You can’t wait to ruin him.

The next morning, Jimin sleeps soundly in bed. He does not notice the way you slip out of bed undetected and make your way towards his drawers. You noticed in the heat to the night the camera that seemed to follow your every move and only wave to it sweetly. You would have to dig through his belongings later. Now, you would be good and properly feed yourself. And at least Jimin. It was his kitchen, after all.

You pad your way downstairs, focused on satiating the growl in your stomach rather than sleeping Jimin. You would think that he would have awoken the second you turned, but he must have been exhausted beyond repair. He had been rather generous….

“Who the hell are you?” A voice calls out to you and you instantly turn around to be faced with Three of Seven. He looks at you, perplexed. It was unlike Jimin to let his one-night stands stay the night, let alone cook in his kitchen and play house. The younger had often been one to sleep in, but this state of him not answering forced the elder to come visit.

“Jung Hoseok.” You say in an almost robotic tone and smile as you turn off the stove. He watches your every move like a trained soldier - it is quite literally what he is as he moves across the island to approach you. “You’re Three, right?” You ask, smirking to yourself in pure amusement as his face contorts in an unreadable expression.

So you weren’t a dumb one-night stand.

In an imperceptible flash, Hoseok makes his way towards you to pin you against the ground. Two long strides across the kitchen and a swipe across the floor has him knocking you to the ground. Never one to go down without a fight, you grip the fabric of his shirt to pull him down with you before elbowing him in the gut just as quickly as he has made you crumble. He groans from the sudden impact, but doesn’t let up as he pins your hands above your head and sinks his own hips onto yours to stifle your movements.

“Who the hell are you?” He repeats, seeing that he has you trapped.

Nevertheless, you muster all the energy from your lower half of your body to roll on top of him and pin his arms above your own. “Someone you should be worried about.”

A third voice cuts in, presumbly the man you slept with last night from the way he saunters downstairs. “What is going on here?” Jimin asks with a lazy rub of his eye. He is surprised to see you entangled with Hoseok - the older man supplanted under you, much like Jimin was the night before, but under very different circumstances. “Yah… Soojin-ah,” You almost forget to respond to your falsehood, but your head snaps up to bat your lashes at Jimin. “Ah. Did you have fun with hyung?”

“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” Hoseok asks from below you. He grips his side, still surprised at the swiftness of your move and the blunt force of your actions. Who trained you?

“I was asleep.” Jimin replies simply before sniffing the air. “You made pancakes?” He looks a bit disheveled, but ever the gentleman, extends his hand out to pull you off of Hoseok and into his arm lazily. “They’re not poisoned, right?”

“I’ll eat them all and leave you to starve if that is the invitation that you are extending to me.” You remark with a laugh escaping from Jimin.

Jimin is unfazed by your words. He’s only enthralled by your remarks. He’s already been inside of you. He’s confident you wouldn’t give him up so easily. “She’s got a cute sense of humor, doesn’t she, hyung?”

“You didn’t tell her any of our names.. did you?” Hoseok asks with narrowed brows as he brushes himself off and leans against the island. He’s in slight pain, but it’s not as worse as it could have been. You could have easily broken his ribs but opted for minute soreness. He would overcome it.

Jimin shakes his head, “I’m not stupid. She randomly knew mine.” Jimin inspects you for a moment as his brows furrow. “Come to think of it.. you haven’t told me how you knew of me. You don’t seem like a newbie, but you haven’t been well enough for me to know who you are.” He directs his words to you, but there seems to be more hints of curiosity rather than animosity. It’s reassuring. “She seems dangerous, hyung. I like it.”

Rolling your eyes, you unwrap Jimin’s arm from your waist to return to your pancakes and sigh. “Jung Hoseok, would you also like one?”

“She could be an assassin and you just let her walk right on in.” Hoseok says, less amused that the younger man has thought with his nether regions rather than his brain. “What if she killed you in your sleep?”

“But she didn’t.” Jimin remarks as he sits down at the bar stool to admire your back.

Deciding to defend your reputation, “That’s much too easy. If I wanted to kill him or you, I would let you know ahead of time. I don’t like surprises.” You say simply as you flip the pancake onto a plate and set it down. “You’ve got to be aware. It’s not what you see that matters, it’s what you don’t.” You reply before cutting into the pancake to reveal the chocolate chips embedded in them. You cut a sizable piece from each pancake to demonstrate that the pancakes were, in fact, not poisoned and take a bite bite. “See?”

“Whoa,” Jimin compliments as you slide the plate in front of him and begins to eat them. He is still cautious to take a bite, but he is only met with the chocolate melting in his mouth. It almost taste as good as you do. Almost. “This is delicious! Hyung, try some.”

Hoseok eyes you suspiciously before taking a section from your own plate and bites into it. He, too, is only met with chocolate-y goodness and hums. “I’m watching you.”

“Please do.” You remark fondly, only for Jimin to send you a pout of disapproval. He was a paradox of a man, you realize. He’s adorable one minute yet meticulous the next. It keeps you interested. You take a nibble on your pancake as you eat while waiting for the two of them to speak - talk - say anything about their plans are, but both of them only opt to watch you.

While Hoseok is more reserved, he can not fight the curiosity that looms over him from your presence. It was rare that Jimin ever let someone stay in his place, especially over night with the king of work that they did. It was obvious enough that you were someone to not be trifled with, but what the hell was your deal? “Who do you work for?” He asks bluntly as wiping the corner of his mouth.

“I work for myself.” You state with a shrug of your shoulders. Jimin only smirks at your response and nods. He had gathered that much. You gave him far too much cheek to be tied down to any one organization, but you did have a lot of balls to come home with him.

Jimin clears his throat before grabbing a cup of milk, “She’s a tough cookie, hyung. She didn’t tell me much about her. Think I’m going to have to investigate myself.” He chirps with a small smirk. He soon begins cutting into his sausage and eggs with a wide smile. “I can’t say I don’t enjoy the chase though. She’s worth chasing after.”

“Stop thinking with your dick and use your brains,” Hoseok murmurs despite scarfing down another pancake. “Look, whoever you are…. Don’t think because you’re here that we won’t stop watching you. We deal wit people like you all the time. You grow comfortable. You get careless. You stop following the rules and make mistakes. If you do happen to have some hidden agenda, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your brain, myself.”

You merely blink at his words before finishing your breakfast. “Wow. You really know how to get me going, don’t you, Hoseok-ah?” You wink as his expression hardens from how informally you call him. You fold your arms behind your back as you take a step forward to him. “You must be so confused about how this is going to work, so let me tell you.”

Jimin leans forward at your threat. It’s caught his interest, especially since he has yet to figure you out.

“I don’t care if you think you’re going to end me. If you do, I’d think you’re more talented than I assumed.” You remark as your eyes never look away from his. “You’re no match for me. If I had an agenda, I would tell you what it is.. but I’m innocent.” You poke his chest for good measure and smiles. “After all, there’s only one of me and seven of you, right? Wouldn’t that be a death wish for me to do something like that?”

Hoseok scoffs, “You could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” He gives you a once over. “I don’t take kindly to fakes. So if you have a hidden agenda, I’ll preface by telling you to lose it. You’re too pretty to be getting yourself entangled with people like us. Didn’t they tell you that when you mess with fire, you might just get burnt?”

You would be offended if you didn’t acknowledge he didn’t have the slightest clue about who you were. “There have been foxes who outsmarts wolves.” You quip as your eyes scan over his features. It’s honestly a shame how handsome he is when you can only think of your master plan - your own ambitions to take the single thing they hold most dear to them away. “But if you threaten me with fire, let’s just say I won’t be the only one getting burned.”

This leaves both of the men equally speechless from your words. A fox? The two of them share a glance, as though exchanging an unspoken word in acknowledgement. Crafty.

Those were the days where they realized you had left them all of the clues: you had evidently left traces of your own plans from the beginning. It long leaves Jungkook more agitated while tapping his fingers against the leather seat with Yoongi at his side. How the hell had they had missed that?

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, there’s a message left for you.” One of their servants enters the room. She can sense the tension that has long filled the room since you escaped from them two weeks ago.

You didn’t even know that it would end like that, did you? You know I had to leave because I was a bit too attached, huh? I must say. I am touched that you went through all of that hard work to try to find me… but I think you could work much harder.

You say you’re wolves, right? I’ll throw you a bone then. You can find me where kings perished, where heads will roll, where a tour is named after me.

Catch me if you can. - YN

- - - - - - -

Where do you think YN is? How do you think about their first meeting? What do you think about YN's style of playing with their heads? Don't be a silent reader!

There will be more of the other members in the upcoming chapter and how YN gets closer to them!

[desiredmalfoy]

Champagne Problems (G.W. x Reader)

House: Slytherin 

Universe: Not Canon (I think by now its safe to say I don’t like to follow canon much in my writing )

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader 

TW: Talks about blood purity. Controlling Parents

Word Count: 3.5 K

Get ready for some angst! Based loosely on Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift because I got inspiration for it while listening to this song. It turned out way longer then I expected. Sorry if there is any mistakes, I haven’t fully edited it. Enjoy!

Note: I aged up Draco, Pansy & Blaise to be the same age as the reader and George.

(The picture above was made by me. I tried to make the handwriting seem a bit messy on purpose) Plus George would be the one to draw doodles on a note.)

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go

Growing up in a rich pure blood family, (y/n) knew what was always expected of her. She was to know her place at all times. Whether that meant knowing she was better then half-bloods and muggle-borns. You are to never be seen with their kind darling her mother would tell her since she was very little. She was also raised to not go against her parents wishes. Sit straight and make sure you always look your best her mother had ingrained in her brain. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had fretted over her looks and manners. If you want a good husband you must be your best darling. 

She was to only be friends with the children of other pure-blood families. Make strategic friendship and make sure that she kept those who benefited her the most close. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy surprisingly had become close friends of hers. They aren’t a group of friends who share their deepest secrets but they brought comfort to each other. They knew what the other was going through as they were all basically destined for the same fate. To keep their pure-blood lineage strong. 

Her future was set in stone before she could even talk. She was to marry someone of her same blood status and continue their bloodline. She was never given the option to choose who she wanted to love. She was expected to give up her life. And that’s exactly what she did as she gave up on the only man she’s loved. George Weasley. 

She had met George at Hogwarts back when they were both students. He was in the same year as her. She had heard of him, I mean who had not with the way him and Fred were infamous with their prank pulling. Life was cruel at times and she wondered if she was being punished in a way when she fell for him.

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers. You're not sure which is worse

She shared a dorm with Pansy for her final year. They had a very complicated friendship. They cared about each other and they would often share their thoughts with each other. Pansy’s parents expected the same out of her. It was nice to have another person who understood what she was going through. Although she knew to never share her deepest secrets with Pansy, she was an opportunist who would use anything against her in the end. Her and Pansy often spoke on who they thought their parents were thinking of marrying them off to. Being a part of the sacred 28 meant that there was a decent sized list of options of who they’d be married off to. It was such a twisted conversation for two young girls to be having. Childhood and lives continuously being controlled by others. 

“I wouldn’t mind Adrian Pucey”, Pansy said from her desk as she continued to write her DADA homework. “Or even Draco or Blaise.”

“Really?” (Y/N) responded all the way from her bed. She was looking for her shoes as she was about to go out for one of her nightly walks around the school. 

“Yeah. I heard he’s still single.”

“What about you”, Pansy questioned with an eyebrow raise as she dropped her quill and turned to face (y/n). 

“Not Marcus Flint that's for sure. Remember how creepy he was during the Yule Ball last year”, (y/n) laughed with an eye roll. 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t stop trying to touch your waist.”

“Anyway, enough about Flint. I’m going to go for my nightly walk. Do you want to go Pansy?”

“Nope. I have to finish this and I still have a bit to finish before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll be back later.”

That one cold October night changed her life for the better. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. This was her last and final year here before she was to return home and do what was expected of her. The days dwindled until she completely lost her freedom. At least here she had some control over her life. She on one of her nightly walks in an attempt to clear her mind when he had bumped into her. She didn’t fear being caught by anyone, her last name alone let her get away with many things. Plus Draco was the Head Boy and wouldn’t get her in trouble. Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t notice a certain ginger running down the hallway. Probably from another prank. Not looking where he was going he knocked straight into (y/n) causing her to stumble back and surely hit the floor hard. But his strong hold prevented her from falling onto the stone ground. Time seemed to freeze as she felt his touch electrify her entire body. (Y/N) stared into his brown eyes as neither said a word to each other. This was the first time they had even crossed paths with each other.

“I’m so sorry love”, he spoke as he helped her stand up straight and let go of her waist. 

“It’s quite alright”, she answered softly. “Just be careful next time.”

“Of course.”

Silence followed for a couple of seconds before he spoke up again. His face showing he was deep in thought.

“You’re not going to run and tell your friend Malfoy that you’ve caught me”, he questioned her. 

“Should I be informing Draco of something you did?”

“No. But I thought you’d be running off now to let him know. After all, you are his friend.”

“No, why would I go and let him know that? It’s not my job to patrol at night.”

A smile formed on his face as he looked at you. His smile made you weak and you didn’t even know why.

From there on a secret friendship blossomed with the red headed boy. (Y/N) wasn’t able to see him in public because word was sure to get your parents. Plus her friends aren’t exactly the nicest people to the Weasleys. Constantly looking down on them and their financial status. Last thing she needed was her mother writing (y/n) about being seen with a “blood traitor”. Merlin, she hated that word. Her relationship with him started slow as a friendship first. Fred was very skeptical of (y/n) in the beginning and it took a lot for him to trust her. Fred knew his brother had fallen for her and he wanted to do nothing more than protect his heart. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for that. Although she was never truly cruel like the rest of her friends, their reputation was attached to her.  

Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing

He wasn’t able to ask (y/n) to be his date for the Yule Ball, it was too much of a risk. Instead he watched from afar as she danced the night away with a boy from Durmstang. As (y/n) danced with him all she was wishing was that it was George that was holding her tonight. 

That night after the dance she sneaked with George to the room of requirements where the room had become the same winter wonderland as earlier in the evening. This time though, she was able to dance with the one person she truly wanted to hold her in their arms. 

“I really like you (y/n)”, George spoke as they swayed to the music.

“I like you too George.”

“Do you want  to be my girlfriend? I know it will have to be in secret but I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Of course”, she said smiling up at him. With that, she brought his face down to her level and placed a long awaited kiss on his lips. It was one of hunger and need. A need for him to be closer to her. 

Months passed where she would sneak around and have dates with George. With the help of Fred, the two were able to see each other often. It was hard keeping it a secret as you wanted nothing more than to show the world he was her boyfriend.  But (y/n) knew she couldn’t do that. They would send each other longing looks throughout the day waiting to be able to see each other again. He had once found a picture of her inside her school bag. It had fallen from one of her photo albums she had placed in her bag. He told her he was going to keep that picture in his wallet so that he would always have her near. 

Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems

One Saturday while her friends were off to Hogsmeade, she had decided to stay back and spend time with George. While sitting in the room of requirements like she always did with her boyfriend she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter she had received from her mother. The one week spring holiday that the school offered was coming up and her mom expected her to be back home. She couldn’t even stay back and spend it with her boyfriend. She was expected to go home and attend an upcoming ball the Pucey family was organizing. 

Lost in her own mind, (y/n) tried to listen to George. George spoke about wanting to start his own shop with Fred. (Y/N) placed her head on his chest as he continued to speak about what their plans would be after graduation. She played with his hands as he continued on about all the products they would have and how it would be such a great shop. She wishes she could freeze time for a while more.

Spring holiday had come quickly and before (y/n) knew it she was back home and attending countless fancy balls and dinner parties with her parents. As the oldest of her siblings, (y/n) had spent her life at countless balls and dinners with her parents as soon as she turned fifteen. Each and every event they would talk to others looking for the perfect husband for their daughter. It wasn’t until one night after a ball that her parents had informed her that they had found the perfect husband for her. She looked at them with a bit of hesitation as she waited for them to drop who she was supposed to be marrying. 

“Draco Malfoy”, your mother spoke with great excitement in her voice. Mother must be ecstatic about this. 

“Draco Malfoy?” She can start to feel her mouth become dry. 

“Yes, you know that the Malfoy’s are a good family to be marrying into darling. Your life is set”, (y/n)’s mother said as she stroked her hair. “The Flint family also inquired about you marrying their son but they don’t quite have the same status as the Malfoy’s.”

At least it’s not Marcus Flint...

“I know mother.”

“We’ll be having dinner with the Malfoy’s tomorrow night so you two can talk more.”

“Of course father”, (y/n) responded obediently. Your expression never faltering in front of your parents. Although inside you were panicking. What about George?  “I’m familiar with Draco since we are in the same house and have the same friend group.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever darling”, your mother whispered to you as she hugged you tightly. Too bad the man you want at the end of the aisle won’t be there.

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was quite uneventful other than the talk of the upcoming wedding after the both of you had left Hogwarts. Narcissa continuously complimented her on her beauty and grace. She hugged (y/n) when they entered Malfoy Manor and whispered into her ear, “We couldn’t have picked a better young lady to carry on our name.” She felt like she was about to be sick. (Y/N) did what she was taught to do, smile when appropriate and be as charming as ever. She knew she was nothing more than an object with no feeling to them. 

“Draco darling”, Narcissa spoke once they had finished dinner. “We have some things to discuss, why don’t you show (y/n) around the garden?”

“Of course mother”, Draco responded as he stood up and walked over (y/n). He helped her stand from her chair with an extended hand. He offered (y/n) his elbow as he escorted her out of the dining room and out of the manor into the garden. 

“Are you okay with this”, Draco questioned her once they had found a bench in the stunning garden. 

“I don’t know how I feel” she responded truthfully. “But I am glad it’s you. You’ve been nothing but respectful to me.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“That we have never been given a chance. But I’m glad it’s you too.”

“Were you hoping for Pansy?”, she teased him as everyone knew of Pansy’s big crush on him back in fourth year. . 

He laughed genuinely at her joke. “Anyone but her.”

It became quiet after that as they both knew what they had to do. 

“We’ll be okay”, he whispered as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand.

“We will.”

Neither of you wanted this. Seeing as Draco himself was heads over heels for a muggle-born girl in your year. He had been secretly seeing her for a while. In the shadows with the same fears you had about your parents finding out. (Y/N) had actually caught him with her on one of (y/n)’s nightly walks on her way to see George. She had let him know that she wouldn’t run to his parents and let them know what she had seen. (Y/N) had sympathized with his situation and she’d be a hypocrite if she went and told on him. She felt his pain as (y/n) told him how she was in love with George. The both of you understood the pain you’d have to face as you returned to Hogwarts in the upcoming days. 

Both of you cried that night knowing what you had to do. Neither of you had a way out. You both were just pawns in your parents games.

Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it

(Y/N) had made it back to school after the short school holiday. The end of the school year was fast approaching and exams loomed near. She avoided George at first, trying to live a few more days of bliss where she was still happy with him. But that didn’t last long, he had eventually found her after their shared class had ended. He secretly slipped a small paper in her hand. 

“Meet me in the Room of Requirements Tonight after curfew. Love George xx”

(Y/N) was dreading this meeting with him because she knew her time with him was ending. The next time she saw George he had seemed very nervous. He was pacing in the room and kept looking at the ground. He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her presence. 

“What’s wrong”, she questioned him as he suddenly lifted his head up.

“Darling I have something important to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how we’re almost graduating? I want you to come with me. I need you by my side.”

“What”, you breathed out as your eyes became wide. 

“I want you by my side” he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Inside it sat a beautiful ring with a red stone in the center of it. 

“George”, she gasped as tears welled in her eyes. She’s crying because she knows she’ll never have the life she wants. It’s like fate was taunting her.

“I can’t do this George.”

“Please (y/n) come with me”, George pleaded with her. 

“You know I can’t Georgie”, (y/n) whispered as she wiped the tears pouring down her cheeks. 

“I know I can’t give you the same you’re used to but I promise I love you!”

“I can’t go with you because I never loved you”, she said suddenly as her expression became stoic. It’s better to have him hate her then love her. It would help ease her pain.

“What”, he breathed out as he stared at her bewildered with her recent confession. He placed the box with the only ring she’s ever wanted back in his pocket. 

“I never loved you”, (y/n) repeated.

“What about every moment we shared (y/n)! You can’t fake that!”

“Please! You were nothing but a game George. You were nothing more than my entertainment for a while. I’d never thought we’d ever get this far”

“Look at me right now and tell me I never meant anything to you (y/n)”, George whimpered as cupped your cheeks. His eyes pleaded with yours to let this be nothing more than a cruel joke of yours. 

You roughly got out of his hold but not before looking right at him. “I could never love someone like you.”

“I could never love a Weasley. Especially not a blood traitor.”

His expression changed from hurt to anger in seconds. As he looked at you with pure disgust. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different from those other pure-bloods.” 

He opened the wallet in his pocket and ripped out her picture. Along with her heart. The picture fell slowly to the ground. She watched it as it floated to the floor.

“Goodbye. Hope you have a good life (y/l/n). I hope you can find happiness in your bitter existence.”

“Because only someone with such hatred in their heart plays with the feelings of others.”

As he exited the room, (y/n) broke down in tears. This isn’t the life she wanted. She hated that she was destined for this. She would do anything for another life. She wanted to have the strength to run up and tell him what she was going through. To ask him to save him from her future. But she couldn’t leave her siblings alone. If (y/n) walked out of her parents grasp, she’d be walking away from them too. She felt her chest starting to tighten and her breaths getting shorter and shorter. 

You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches

The days seemed to go by with no color in her life. This week has been pouring rain nonstop. The mood of the sky clearly matches her current situation. Pansy had noticed her slight shift in mood but she blamed her emotional turmoil on the nerves of her upcoming graduation. She seemed to believe her or simply just dropped it as not trying to intrude anymore. She watched as he walked the halls of the school with sadness clearly on his face. He’d look her way every once in a while. Some days it was also pure anger when he looked her way.  She had attempted to stay clear of him and Fred. After their shared classes she always left first or walked different routes to her next destination. 

“You know you have some nerve”, she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and came face to face with Fred Weasley. His face red with anger.

“What do you want”, she responded to him as she turned to face him. 

“You took his heart and you bloody broke it”, Fred responded angrily. “He loved you. He probably still does.”

“That’s no longer my problem”, (y/n) responded calmly. All these years of having to mask her true feelings were being used currently. 

“You see, I don’t understand how this was a game to you! You don’t just fake all that!”

“You’ll never understand”, she said in a monotonous manner. 

“Is everything alright here”, Draco questioned as he walked up to them. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. 

“Oh I see now”, Fred sneered as he looked down at her intertwined hand with Draco’s. “It was some twisted game between you two.”

“Look you don’t talk to her like that”, Draco responded as he stepped in front of you. Fully blocking Fred from your view.

“I’d hit you right now but I’m sure you’d get your daddy to fight your battles.” Fred said as he shoulder checked Draco on his way out. He didn’t bother to turn back around and look at you. 

“Don’t listen to him”, Draco said as embraced her. 

But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

She knew that George wouldn’t have a problem finding someone else. Someone who would love him like he truly deserved. Someone who could help piece back together what she had broken. He would find some who truly deserved him. Because in her opinion, she had never deserved George Weasley. She could never deserve someone like him.

Challenge to self: write angst with a happy ending??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

Tag List: @keepsmilingandstayhappy​

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 4

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Suggestive language, explicit language

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3

Note: Just a reminder to my uninformed and curious folks out there: Asexuals can become aroused.  Asexuals can have the desire to become aroused. Asexuals can enjoy being aroused.  Asexuals can take steps to becoming aroused.  Asexuals can be aroused by someone else.  Asexuals can be curious about arousal.  Asexuals can alternatively have no interest in arousal.  Asexuality doesn’t mean that you are celibate and have no interest in sex. Do yourself a favor and do some research. Talk to your ace friends. Trust me, they’re more than happy to educate you on that subject.  Brace yourselves for another fun-filled chapter! 

Looking back, acting so aggressively towards the infamous demon was probably not the smartest plan. It may have been a bit premature to assume that he was making any kind of sexual advances towards you. After all, he never really confirmed that was his intention. You may have just dug yourself into an even deeper hole. 

Then again… you wouldn’t put it past him considering how he carried himself and also by the way Angel Dust encouraged more illicit behavior. Even with the small amount of time that you had spent with him, it was obvious that the Radio Demon was an opportunist, and also a crafty bastard who got off on manipulating others for his own personal gain. You had wondered if there was a part of him that genuinely wanted to help Charlie with the hotel, or if he had any ulterior motives. Maybe Vaggie had the right idea about him after all. 

Whatever the case, you had to be smart about this. You weren’t going to get anywhere by being so negative. However, it was also important to brace yourself for any impending threat, especially considering that you were, after all, in Hell. Cartoon or not, this place was filled with evil creatures, and you had to watch your back. 

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself to leave the safety of your room, equally curious and terrified of what would await you in this mysterious land. Stepping out into the hall, you took a moment to really look around, admiring the creepy hotel structure as well as the art on the wall. Painting of strange beings lined the halls in old, corroded frames. You weren’t sure if the creatures on the canvas were important historical figures, or if they were just members of Charlie’s family. Either way, they were haunting. 

Hearing a commotion downstairs, you decided to go and investigate. Following the noises, you had eventually found yourself in a large room where Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust were gathered together, bickering about something with an odd, furry cat demon who was positioned behind the bar next to them with an annoyed look on his face. 

Upon seeing you enter, Charlie cut the conversation short, forcing a nervous grin. “Oh, hey there! How’s it going?”

Keeping your expression neutral, you replied, “I’m hanging in there, thanks. Am I interrupting something?” 

“Not at all!” she assured you, clearly deflecting. “We were just, uh… discussing tactics to get you home. It would help if we had a little more to go off of. Can you tell us more about you?”

“Just ask Alastor,” Angel suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. “The two a them were gettin’ real familiar upstairs. I’m sure he’d be happy to fill you in.”

“Um. What?” Vaggie snapped, her expression equally enraged and horrified. 

Glaring at the spider-demon, he merely blew a kiss at you in return before snickering fiendishly, eager to see how this would play out. 

“He came to my room after the two of you left,” you admitted, noting the nervous glances between Charlie and Vaggie. “It wasn’t a big deal. We just talked.” 

“Oh, honey,” Angel began. “You was doin’ a lot more than that. These walls talk, babe. And these walls told me they saw you two in bed together.”

Oh, fuck. Not good. 

Charlie looked horrified  while Vaggie seemed to be on the brink of a conniption. “No, no, no, it wasn’t like that,” you urged, putting them slightly at ease. “He was trying to help me.” 

“How is being in bed together helpful to your cause?” Vaggie pressed, clearly not buying it. 

“He did something to me… I’m not even sure. He said that he could help me and then he put his hand on my head. Next thing I know, I’m blacking out. I woke up later in the bed, and he just happened to be lying next to me. That’s it.”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes, crossing one set of his arms in disbelief while Vaggie pursed her lips in a disappointed manner. Charlie took a moment to find her words before she asked, “What exactly did he do to you?”

“Apparently, he could see inside my head. By looking through my memories he could see what my world looked like. I’m not sure how that’s beneficial. Maybe he just wanted to see if I was telling the truth. He didn’t say. He’s… weird.” 

“That’s an understatement,” Vaggie murmured, earning a chuckle from the cat-demon behind the bar. 

“Was that all?” Charlie inquired curiously. 

“Yeah, toots. Was that all?” Angel teased, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Ugh, he was going to be the death of you. 

“He tried to make a deal with me,” you finally divulged. 

“Hijo de puta,” Vaggie seethed, baring her teeth in anger. 

Swallowing thickly, Charlie asked, “What kind of deal?” 

Shrugging your shoulders awkwardly, you replied, “If he succeeded in somehow returning me to my world, he wanted me to take him with me. I guess he thinks my world would be entertaining for him.” 

You glanced at Angel, knowing that he was well aware of the other services that Alastor allegedly offered you. Pleading with your eyes, you hoped that he would take pity on you and keep his mouth shut just this once. 

A smirk graced his lips as he considered your silent request. Much to your relief, he kept quiet. You’d probably pay for that later, but it was worth it to avoid more horrified expressions from the others. 

Charlie wrung her hands together nervously while Vaggie approached you, worrying her lip. “Please tell me that you didn’t make a deal with him.” 

“No!” you confirmed, shaking your head. “Of course not. I barely know him.”

“You gonna give her a history lesson? Looks like I’m not the only one around here who isn’t familiar with the Strawberry Pimp,” Angel drawled, now apparently bored of the topic. 

Rolling her eyes, Vaggie sighed with exasperation. “Alright, look. No one knows how he’s accomplished so much since arriving in Hell. Overlords that have ruled Hell for centuries were no match against him. To prove his dominance and establish a reputation, Alastor pretty much massacred anyone who posed as a threat to his power. He broadcasted his carnage all throughout Hell, the mere savagery of his slaughters attesting to his abilities. That’s how he got his name, “The Radio Demon”. How original, right?” she jeered. 

Furrowing your brows, you continued to listen intently. “It’s still unclear as to how he attained the power to overthrow our world’s most ancient and devastating evils, but it’s evident that he's a nefarious demon and dangerously unpredictable--capable of unimaginable destruction.”

Holy fuck. You knew he was dangerous, but you had no idea what he was actually capable of. And you had the audacity to berate him. 

Struggling to keep from trembling, you asked, “So… if he’s so dangerous, why are you partnering with him?” 

Charlie smiled timidly, trying to maintain her optimistic demeanor. “He offered his expertise because he supports what we’re trying to do here!” 

“You cannot possibly believe that,” you countered skeptically. 

“I don’t,” Vaggie barked back, scowling. “I want nothing to do with him.”

“Vaggie, come on,” Charlie implored. “We’ve been over this. We’ve got to at least give him a chance. Everyone is capable of redemption. He hasn’t done anything to hurt us or the hotel. He could be the best thing to happen to this place. Other than you,” she finished with a smile, earning a flirtatious eye roll from her girlfriend. 

“You could always try commanding him to leave,” Angel taunted. “I’d like to see how Hell’s princess pairs up against Hell’s most powerful demon.” 

It was then you remembered hearing her mention that she was a princess the day before when she had saved you from the mob. In all of the calamity, it had completely slipped your mind. “Wait, so you’re actually a princess?” you asked. “How does that work?”

“Jesus, you really are from another world, aren’t you?” Angel interjected, reaching for a drink at the bar. “Ever hear of Lucifer? The Big Bad of Hell?”

Nodding your head, Angel then pointed to Charlie. “That’s his kid.” 

Your eyes were probably the size of baseballs as you stared at Charlie, completely at a loss for words. “It’s really not a big deal,” she assured you, her face flushed with embarrassment, which only added to her already rosy cheeks. 

“Wait, you’ve been here for less than a day. How do you even know about Lucifer?” Vaggie questioned. 

“I mean… I don’t know about your Lucifer,” you clarified, trying to find the right way to explain yourself. “In my world, Lucifer isn’t an actual person. He’s more of a myth, or a religious figure, depending on who you ask. There’s stories about him and no one knows if he actually existed. He’s always been portrayed as evil incarnate. He brought sin to the world and God cast him down into Hell. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

“Interesting,” Vaggie commented, pressing a finger to her lips inquisitively. “Your world’s version of him isn’t too far off. Rest assured, he’s real. And he’s not really a fan of our business.” 

“Yet,” Charlie corrected her. 

“Yet,” Vaggie agreed, grinning slightly. 

“Wow,” you huffed, trying to comprehend everything. 

“I know that this is probably a lot for you to take in,” Charlie sympathized, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but we’re going to help you. All of us.” 

“Speak for yourself,” the cat-demon commented before taking a swig of his booze. 

“Oh! I forgot to introduce you! This is Husk. He’s a friend of Alastor’s--”

“I ain’t his friend!” he barked back, seething. “That stupid son of a bitch dragged me in here outta nowhere! I’m just biding my time until the booze runs out.”

“Got it,” you acknowledged, thoroughly enjoying his callousness. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“I can’t say the same,” he grumbled, reaching for a new bottle of alcohol after pitching the old, empty bottle behind him. 

Clapping her hands together, Charlie quickly changed the subject. “Right! Let’s get started! What can you tell us about how you got here?” 

It was mostly a blur, but you tried your best to concentrate and remember exactly what had happened. “I was out with my friends and we had passed by this old thrift shop,” you began, trying to recall the details. “It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I was looking around and saw an old television set on display. It looked like it was at least fifty years old, still in prime condition. I love that kind of retro stuff. I remember grabbing the remote for the t.v. to see if it still worked. I pressed the power button, and bam!” You threw your hands up dramatically for affect. “That’s the last thing I remember.” 

Charlie hummed in thought, looking to Vaggie for her input. “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” the moth-demon thought aloud. “Could it have been cursed?”

“That kind of stuff doesn’t exist in my world,” you countered. “Magic and curses and stuff… none of that is real. It’s all mythical.” 

“If none a that stuff is real, how do you explain this place, sugartits?” Angel chimed in, cackling. 

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t sure how to explain your situation. “I… I don’t know,” you stammered. “Maybe magic is real. Or maybe it’s something other than magic. Of course, there’s always the very real possibility that I’m just insane and all of this is in my head.” 

“Oh, no, my dear,” an eerily familiar voice resounded ominously throughout the room. “I’ve been in your head, and I can assure you… you’re as sane as I am.”

Everyone was looking around frantically, wondering where Alastor was hiding. Moments later, a shadow appeared on the floor close to your feet, causing you to jump back and yelp as it grew rapidly until the Radio Demon himself materialized next to you, grinning widely. You briefly caught the glares and nervous expressions from the others out of the corner of your eye as he loomed over you. Wincing at his misguided assurance, you replied, “Great. That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Ha! I do so enjoy your brazen disposition,” he jeered boisterously.

Your automatic response was to bite back with an aggressive jab, but after hearing what he was capable of, you instead avoided his gaze as you fought back the urge to antagonize him.

Immediately picking up on your hesitance, he carefully gauged your reaction as he stepped closer to you. “Now, now, darling. No need to muzzle yourself.” He then reached forward to place one of his slender fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. It took everything you had to remain still and maintain eye contact rather than smack his hand away. 

Baring his teeth in a leering smile, his eyes morphed into intimidating red slits as he purred softly. “We are going to have so much fun.” Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88

[hisan-miren]

Redacted File

The First Date Pt 3

The two ate their meal in relative silence- although Mina did see fit to steal one of his sweet potatoes and quickly snatched it up before he could do anything.  He stared at her for a few seconds, completely flabbergasted (which was a hilarious look on him) before he snatched up her umeboshi (since she’d eaten all of her tempura.)  It quickly devolved into the two trying to steal even more of each other’s food and general tomfoolery and laughter after that.  They made sure to pick up anything they dropped or spilled in the chaos, knowing full well that Raios’ mother would thoroughly chew them out if they didn’t.  When the food (and cleanup) was finished, Raios loaded their tableware back on the tray to be taken away later, and the two moved to sit out on the walkway facing the garden.

“So, what comes after this?” Raios asked, half-grumbling.

“Well, I think it generally goes that you propose, I accept, and then we get married and live happily ever after,” Mina replied.

“I didn’t mean our relationship, you idiot!” Raios snapped, his face turning bright red.  “I meant this date!  I’m not exactly a fountain of knowledge when it comes to this!”

“Well-…”  Mina flopped over on her side, laying across Raios’ lap and causing him to panic very briefly, “we could always go to your roo-”

“Rejected,” Raios spat, a cold and angry demeanor taking back over.  “What is with you and my room anyways?  If you try to recommend it one more time, I’m seriously going to smack you.”

“Got it.  Won’t do it again,” she replied, a bit shocked by how genuinely angry he seemed to be at the mere idea of it.  Shocked, but not perturbed.  She’d try again next time.

“Pick something else.”  He still seemed pretty pissed, but his tone had lost a bit of its edge.

“… Isn’t this fine?”

“Huh?”

“Being like this,” she replied, motioning to their position.  “Or did you want to the one using my lap?” she teased.

“Hu- wh- No!  That’s not what I meant at all!” Raios spluttered, cheeks turning dark again. “And this isn’t what I meant! Aren’t people supposed to do things?!”

“This is doing something though,” Mina replied calmly. “And I am plenty satisfied to just stay like this and chat for a few hours.”

“My legs will fall asleep,” Raios complained.

“Then we can switch!  In an hour you can use my lap.”

“Somehow I get the sense that this isn’t exactly what usually happens on a first date.”

“Well yeah,” Mina replied.  “Usually, the boyfriend isn’t grounded.  We made the most of what we could, and it was fine.  I mean, we’re not breaking any records, but I don’t want to set our relationship to the pace of others’.”  Mina made herself comfortable again on his lap and stared up at him, starting yet another staring contest.  She was content to keep going too until Raios eventually sighed and leaned over.  She was so confused about what was going on that she didn’t realize what had happened until the sensation left her lips. She just stared up at him wide-eyed and quietly covered her mouth.  There was a silence and then she raised a finger.  “One more time.”

“Huh?”

“Do it again.  I wasn’t ready.”

“No,” he replied, seeming pretty adamant this time.

“Oh come on!”  She covered her face as she felt her cheeks start to actually physically burn. She kicked her feet against the wood floor and started to roll around in Raios’ lap, trying to remember not to let herself fall.  “Just one more!  Come on, please?!”

“I know you, it definitely won’t be ‘just one more’,” Raios replied flatly.

“You’re so mean!” Mina whined.

“Yup, I’m mean, horrible, awful- feel free to call me all the names you want, you’re not getting another one.”  Mina gave one last futile, dying groan of disappointment and laid flat on Raios’ lap again.

“I didn’t think you’d do it.”

“You underestimated me.”

“Clearly.”  Raios watched, slightly amused, as her face began to turn red again and she quickly tried to re-cover her face.  “Ughhhhh… Let’s just end it here for today. I don’t think I can function after that.”

“You sure?”

“Not at all, but I think I’m going to be completely useless the rest of the day.  Also my self-control just went in the garbage.”

“Huh?!  Your self-control?!” Raios asked.

“I’m gonna die.  I’m legitimately going to die.”

“You’re not gonna die from a kiss,” Raios ground out.

“I am so gonna die.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a drama queen.”

“And I didn’t realize you were such a tease!”

“Well there’s a lot more where that came from,” he replied, grinning smugly.  She looked up at him only to cover her face again.

“Okay, now I’m gonna die.”

“I’m not playing this game.”

“GREAT!  Because I’m already losing!”  Raios just sighed and leaned back while his girlfriend silently freaked out in his lap. “Ugh…  It should be illegal to be that hot…” Mina grumbled to herself.

“I’d be a lot more legal if you took off your rose-tinted glasses.”

“No thanks, I’m happy where they are.”

“You are just-…”  Raios gave a sigh that was somewhere between ‘annoyed’ and ‘exasperated’.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘incorrigible’,” Mina replied cheekily.

“That’s definitely the word I was looking for.”

“Ready to switch yet?”

“We’re not switching,” Raios replied flatly. “You’ll just use it to kiss me.”

“You saw through it…” Mina grumbled, clicking her tongue and crossing her arms in irritation.  “Then at least give me your hand.  That’s the least you can do.”  She huffed and pouted until Raios eventually felt he had no other recourse but to give into her demands.  He sighed and picked one of his hands off the wooden floor and offered it to her. Mina’s demeanor immediately turned from sullen and dour to gleeful and bright.  Her two smaller hands immediately latched on, and her cheek quickly found its way into her palm.

“What in reverse world is so fun about this?” Raios grumbled. Mina’s thought process was completely beyond him most of the time, but he found this sort of behavior especially weird.  It wasn’t like this was the first time.  She’d done stuff like this to flirt with him even before they started going out, but he didn’t really understand this need for closeness she seemed to have.  He understood wanting to hold hands and be close, but hers seemed to border on outright cuddling.  He didn’t mind, but he didn’t quite get it either.  They sat in silence like that for a while; she spent time feeling out the callouses on his fingers and tracing the wrinkled creases of his palm like she was trying to memorize every inch of it.  A while passed like that without speaking, and eventually Mina sat up and chose to latch herself to Raios’ arm instead.  “I’ve been meaning to ask for a bit, but you’re the type that likes cuddling, aren’t you?”

“If I say ‘yes’, can we cuddle?” she asked hopefully.

“Absolutely not,” Raios replied flatly.  “What if one of my family walked by?  We’re in the garden.  At least pretend to have a bit of shame.”

“But if we weren’t somewhere with other people around?” she asked, eyes glinting with mischief.  

“…I’d think about it…” he replied quietly.

“Alright!” Mina cheered, pumping her fist.

“I didn’t say ‘yes’!” Raios snapped, a bit flustered.

“It’s just as good,” Mina replied.

They sat there and chatted for a while longer, continuing their game of pushing and pulling every now and then until the sun was halfway to the horizon. Raios looked up and judged that it was probably around 5:00pm.  Mina probably had to get home soon.

“Come on, get up,” Raios said, shrugging the arm that she was still very much latched onto.

“Don’t wanna,” Mina pouted.

“Get up,” Raios ground out.  “I gotta take you home.”

“I thought you were grounded,” Mina replied skeptically.

“You honestly think the old hag would allow me to not walk you home?”

“… Fair point.”  Mina reluctantly released him and stood up to stretch.  “We can work out the details of our next date on the way. I wonder where we should go~”

“Ever the opportunist,” Raios sighed, slowly getting up and working the pins and needles out.  The couple made their way over to the entryway, making sure to stop by the kitchen where Raios’ mother would be.  He popped his head in and got his mother’s attention.  She put down the dish she was using to taste the soup, a little surprised that her son had come to find her.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I’m taking Mina home,” Raios said.

“You know you can’t leave the house, correct?”

“You would really have me not accompany her to ensure she gets home safely?” Raios growled.  Mina was a force of nature.  No one messed with her if they were trying to have a good and decent day.  But it was the principle of the matter.  Mrs. Minori’s placid face slowly morphed into a sly smile, and she turned back to the soup in front of her.

“If you’re not back in 30 minutes, I’m sending your sister after you.”

“I’ll come right back,” he replied quickly.  That was the last thing he wanted.  His sister would interrogate him the entire way back and drive him insane.  Dinner was already going to be bad enough, he didn’t need it to happen without the distraction of food (and he was sure their parents would conveniently ignore her jabs in an attempt to satiate their own curiosity.)  

“D’you get permission?” Mina asked.

“Yup, but I gotta be kinda quick otherwise aneki will be sent for me.  Being alone with her would be the most obnoxious thing in the world.”

“I’m not envious.”

“Must be nice being an only child.”  Mina just shrugged and started slipping her geta on.  Raios quickly followed, suit and the two left to go to her place.

“So, where should we go next time?” Mina asked.  

“A date on the mainland is a bit hard since it’d take most of the day to get there,” Raios mused, “but we might be able to get on a ferry to one of the nearby islands that has more to do.”  He looked over to find Mina pouting which completely bewildered him.  “What? Why are you making that face?”

“Those’re fine ‘n all, but I want something quieter,” she grumbled.

“So what, you just wanna hang out on the beach on the quiet side of the island or something?”  Her eyes lit up, and Raios once again came to the conclusion that there was no understanding his girlfriend.  He sighed in resignation.  “I guess that’s what we’ll be doing then.”  Mina clapped her hands and giggled in glee before once again latching onto his arm.  Raios didn’t even bother trying to get her off this time.  If someone saw them, then they saw them.  

It didn’t take long to arrive at Mina’s house, even with the awkward way she was hanging off him, and Raios stopped at the door.

“Alright, let go.  It’s time for you to go home.”  Mina grumbled under her breath and stubbornly clung to his sleeve.  “Come on, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“It’s too long…”

“It’s the day after tomorrow!” Raios snapped.

“I wish we could just skip to being married already,” Mina pouted, moving to grip the collar of his yukata.

“That’s gonna be a bit,” Raios replied, feeling a bit sheepish. “We’re not even old enough.”  Mina pouted, feeling disheartened when faced with the truth.  “Quit that. You’re being ridiculous.  At least consider for a moment the idea that you may be happier with someone else.”

“Not happening,” Mina growled at him.  “It’s definitely gotta be you.”  Then, Mina violently tugged on him pulling him downwards and caught him completely off guard.  The one Raios had given her had been soft and fleeting.  One of his many ways of gently telling her he loved her and appreciated her. The kiss Mina gave Raios was longer and firmer, and she didn’t even give him a chance to try and lead it.  When she finally let go of him, he covered his mouth with his arm and stumbled back, a violent blush covering his entire face and creeping down his neck.  Mina was almost sure she saw steam coming out of his ears too.

“YOU-!!”  Mina just flashed him a smug smile and stuck her tongue out at him.

“See you Monday~” Mina said, waving to him as she went inside, feeling like she’d set off a whole warehouse’s worth of fireworks.

[convivialcamera]

On Deadline: Jump

Previously

My entire universe had shrunk to the tip of a pin.

Every atom in my body was attuned only to the spot where Jamie’s blunt finger was delicately but insistently caressing my clitoris as I lay spread before him, feet dangling off the side of the bed and into oblivion. My blood rushed and my skin heated. My entire body tensed in a desperate attempt to keep still enough that the sudden jerking of my hips wouldn’t dislodge his finger. I held my breath deep in my lungs, straining, wanting, needing, burning.

Elbow tucked into my side, I reached up and grabbed at my shoulder, digging my fingernails into my collarbone in a last-ditch attempt to hold on.

And then, the chaos I was reigning in broke free. I exhaled on a small moan, and as I sucked in air the first wave of release hit me. After that I was lost.

When I came-to moments later, Jamie was gently running a finger down the inside of my splayed thigh and grinning like a cat that got the canary.

“You’re way too easy,” he said, a smirk barely concealed in the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up.” But I couldn’t help but grin myself, buoyed by the pleasure and contentment of orgasm. Jamie curled up beside me, resting his red mop just above my navel. I ran my fingers through his curls and caressed the curve of his ear. We stayed there, silent, for a long time.

As I gently floated in a state of semi-consciousness, Jamie’s breath tickled my stomach. Through the fog, it occured to me that he was talking. 

“...that we could hit this wine bar later,” he said, “and maybe make a night of it.”

“What? Like a date?” I raised my head to look at him, propping myself up on my elbow.

He twisted his neck to look back at me. “Yes, like a date.” 

I flopped back, a silly, wide smile overtaking my face. “Alright, then.”

I had the day off, having worked the Sunday before, but Jamie soon slinked away from my bed and back to the newsroom. I languished between the sheets, carefully cataloging every single moment that had passed between us. There was an easy intimacy between us that went beyond all the sex or even our shared profession, and I admitted to myself that I reveled in it.

I spent the day napping, mostly, although I did run out to buy a vacuum, since I had left the marital vacuum with my almost-ex-husband. I was loathe to think of Frank, I smugly told myself, as there really should only be two people in a new relationship. I tried to put him out of my mind, but he lingered. Why had I fallen in love with him? I wondered as I stood in front of the vacuum display, comparing models. What had made Frank stray? I pondered as I paid the clerk and lugged my purchase out to my car. Was it my work, or was it something irreparably wrong with me? I questioned as I drove back to my apartment. I didn’t have any answers, but something told me that with Jamie, everything was different. 

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Beauchamp, or maybe you just like fucking him, I thought.

By the time Jamie arrived at my door that evening, beautifully windswept from his ride over with just a hint of helmet hair, I had showered, shaved, plucked and primped within an inch of my life. To my distinct pleasure, my date looked like he had been temporairly struck dumb.

“Dude, it’s just a nice top.” I handed him a bourbon, neat, as he openly stared at my chest. It was a vibrant red and rather more low-cut than what I wore on assignment. 

He sucked down the drink like it was water. “Is that what you call it?”

“Yep.” I sipped my own drink like I had all the time in the world. I raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to say anything else about it. He immediately recognized the challenge, and demurred with a shrug. 

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” I glugged down the last of the bourbon and grabbed my black moto jacket. “Let’s go.”

The bar was in an old candy shop in a small historic district downtown Leoch. The walls were brick with the paint flaking off, and it was filled with little nooks and industrial furniture and illuminated only with candles. A sprightly little hipster seated us at a tiny table beneath an arch in a secluded corner with a single votive candle and two of the tiniest glasses of water I’d ever seen. Menus were attached to clipboards, and I studiously examined mine, avoiding Jamie’s gaze. 

I picked a pinot noir at random when the server came around, while Jamie ordered a sweet rosé and the biggest cheese plate on the menu. 

“It’s refreshing,” he said at my smirk.

“I’m sure.” I swirled my own wine and took a sip. The alcohol rushed through my bloodstream and heated my stomach.

Jamie rolled his eyes at me, and put his hand on mine. “It’s easier if we touch, isn’t it?”

It was a startling observation. I squeezed his hand, and felt the nervous energy between us dissipate into the ether. 

“Well, why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” I asked.

“What do you want to know?”

I cast about for a subject while I cut a hunk of Brie and smooshed it into a slice of baguette. “What’s your family like? Other than your uncles,” I qualified quickly. “Like, your mom and dad.”

“My parents are dead, Claire.” He said this softly; it pained him to tell me. 

“Oh.” I exhaled. “Mine too. Car crash when I was five.” It was an old wound but a deep one that still ached when pressed. The warmth of his hand sustained me. He paused, as if deciding. When he opened his mouth to speak, I blurted: “You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s OK. My mom died when I was eight. And Dad, he had a massive stroke my first year of college.”

“Sucks,” I said without thinking. Jamie gave me a look that clearly said “duh,” and I giggled. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I think you’re the only one that could have said that to me and not get punched in the face,” he said contemplatively, drinking his wine. “Because you know what it’s like.”

I gave him my own look. “It’s a shitty club.”

Jamie loaded a baguette slice with blue cheese and a dried apricot and stuffed it in his mouth. “You told me a while back that you’re not from anywhere. What the hell does that mean?”

I smiled. I had told him that the day we met, the first time he called me Sassenach. “My uncle raised me. He was a photographer too — on staff at Nat Geo.”

“Holy shit.” 

“Yeah, and in, like, the ‘80s, when the job was basically globetrotting with a camera. I refused to go to boarding school so I went with him, just about everywhere.”

“You come by all this naturally?” Jamie waved at me, indicating tip to toenails.

“Sure. All my belongings fit in a duffel bag and I didn’t go to a real school until college. So, yeah, I’m not really from anywhere.”

“That’s a hell of a childhood. I just grew up on a farm.”

“Like, cows and corn fields?”

“And horses,” he said.

“Race horses?”

He blushed. “Some. My sister Jenny and her husband breed and train them. She breeds merino sheep too.”

I could tell he was downplaying the race horses. “Are you and Jenny close?”

“As close as we can be, since I live here now,” Jamie said, but he evaded my gaze, which made me think there was more to that story. I itched to press him further, but didn’t want to bring the specter of tragedy back into our conversation so I turned to lighter things. 

I told him about my uncle, Quenten Lambert Beauchamp, the archaeologist-turned-photographer who raised me, and my wandering childhood that spanned six of the seven continents (we went to Antarctica, but hadn’t made it to Australia). As I talked, Jamie listened intently, asking questions now and then, especially about Uncle Lamb’s assignments. As the cheese plate slowly disappeared between us and another round of drinks arrived, Jamie spoke of his sister and her husband, who was also Jamie’s oldest friend, and the trouble they got into as kids on the farm. He was a born storyteller, charming and funny.

I was telling Jamie about the time Uncle Lamb locked me in a temple to the Roman Goddess Vesta when I was 16, when Jamie’s eyes suddenly went wide and his ears turned so crimson I could see it even in the dim candlelight of the bar.

“Don’t turn around, but I’m pretty sure Geillis just walked in,” Jamie said in a low voice, as if he was afraid speaking her name aloud would summon her to us.

Unable to help myself, I peeked over my shoulder, and sure enough I could see Geillis’s bright blonde curtain of hair as she chatted with the hostess and was led to a table for two on the other side of the bar. I turned back and rolled my eyes at Jamie to tease him a bit. “Yep, that’s her. What of it?”

“Don’t you think it might not be the best idea for the entire newsroom to know we’re, you know…” He made an indistinct noise in his throat that made his meaning perfectly clear.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, deciding if I should say the thought that immediately popped into my mind. “I’m sorry,” I said, the devil on my shoulder winning out. “I watched you slobber all over an intern in front of the whole staff and you’re worried about being spotted having a glass of wine with a colleague?” I smiled innocently at him.

Jamie opened and closed his wide mouth a few times, flabbergasted. “Geillis is an opportunistic gossip.”

“I don’t have anything to hide.”

“And anyone who saw you in that shirt would know this is more than a glass of wine.” He suddenly looked smug. 

I began to roll my eyes at him, but I was distracted by a tall man with dark hair and strong bones walking into the bar through the back door. I leaned back, and pulled Jamie into the shadows. Dougal MacKenzie made a beeline for Geillis’s table, and Geillis smiled broadly when she spotted him. 

“What are we looking at?” Jamie whispered in my ear, sounding bewildered.

“Any reason why your uncle is macking on Gellis at the most romantic spot in town?” I whispered back, as we watched our boss greet our colleague with a very familiar kiss and sit down.

“Can’t think of any, other than the obvious,” Jamie said. “Maybe we should get out of here.” He flagged down the server with one hand, and ran a suggestive finger up my thigh under the table with the other.

“Maybe head back to my place?” 

“I’d like nothing better.”

[etaeternum]

Sunrise

Mother of Griffons Sunrise

The (first) time Nate was punched in the face.

Find it on AO3! or read from the beginning on Tumblr!

Caught stealing and conscripted by a passing Grey Warden recruiter in the Denerim market, Hale had listened to the hushed whispers and rumors of the other new recruits about this thing called ‘the Joining’ on their way to Vigil's Keep. Both the King and Queen of Ferelden were Grey Wardens and if a pair of pompous nobles who had servants to do so much as wipe their asses could live through it, it couldn't be that bad. So she thought.

Before they drank the darkspawn blood, the recruits came to find they might not make it through the ritual. Well, she thought as she drank from the chalice, following some ridiculous creed, just fucking try to kill me.

The sickness, nausea, all preceding the most intense blackout she had ever experienced followed. She thought she was dead. But what she saw. The flashes of darkspawn.  Their hearts beat together, now in unison with hers, to some unseen thing much darker and more evil than she could ever imagine. It frightened her, although she would never admit that to anyone. She played it off as if it was nothing.

After the Joining, other recruits complained about hunger. But Hale adjusted. It wasn't that much different from starving on the streets of the Alienage. She rolled her eyes in response to those who bitched, moaning about the pains of an appetite that could not be satiated. The whiney little Wardens that survived the horrors of the Joining, the feel of the taint spreading throughout their bloodstreams, and the ravenous hunger that occurred after fueled her dislike of all of them.

She distracted herself from the same changes by taking her rage out on them. Within the first night of her completed Joining, a conflict spurred between her and another recruit, now both Junior Wardens. The young man, a noble from Amaranthine-who likely assumed Hale Dalish from her vallaslin and ears- complained about the inadequate rations, saying it was as if they were being treated like Elves in the Alienage.

With no other provocation, she lunged over the table and punched the Junior Warden square in the jaw, repeatedly. When a Senior Warden came to stop the fight, she swung at him too, earning her a night in solitary confinement.

The rest of the Junior Wardens kept their distance from the volatile young woman from then on and the Warden Commander gave her duties to clean the kitchens until they departed for Skyhold. When she was selected to join the Senior Wardens for this small scouting mission, the other Junior Wardens created the rumor it was Warden Commander Cousland's plan to desert Hale in Orlais.

With reluctance, she joined the scouting group to the office of the Inquisition, interested in surprising her cousin whom she had learned took the role of Inquisitor. This will be fun, Hale told herself knowing that Alanna would be stunned by the sight of her since it had been at least a year since Hale’s last departure from the Lavellan clan. The last time she disappeared was just after receiving her vallaslin.

Alanna, as the First to the Keeper, made a special arrangement for Hale to prove her devotion to the Dalish and receive the facial tattoo. Hale assumed Alanna hoped that the spiritual ritual that included a day of silent meditation on the Elven gods and a symbolic purification of the body would ground Hale, ultimately encouraging her to stay with the Dalish clan. The only reason this ritual stopped once begun was is if the Elf could not tolerate the pain of the tattoo. Hale went along with the ritual, curious to see what changes in herself she might experience.

The pain from the tattoo was minimal. She had received a number of tattoos on other locations on her body in Denerim. This pain was nothing. And when asked about the god-design she chose, Falon'din, the god of death- she said little. To aid the souls of what she hunted to the afterlife- it was something she knew the more spiritual members of the clan would believe and appreciate. In actuality, she chose it hoping to connect with her deceased father, though she would tell no one her reasons. Though Hale was highly skeptical of the Elven gods and religion in general, she was also opportunistic. If this could help, she would try.

Infamous in the Lavellan clan, Hale had long upheld her status as a vagrant, disappearing and revisiting the clan when it suited her even since she was a kid, notorious for being crass and stubborn. Each time she left, she extinguished her cousin's hopes for Hale to find loyalty to their clan.

Reuniting with Alanna in the Skyhold War Room was indeed entertaining, especially Nathaniel's brevity with the Inquisitor. His confidence with her ultimately confirmed Hale’s attraction to the Lieutenant.

After the Grey Wardens raucous night around the campfire near the Emprise, they continued on for two days. Traveling through Emprise du Lion as quickly as possible, they planned to hurry through the frigid climate to reach the temperate weather of the Emerald Graves.

"I have been looking for this everywhere," Damia said after she hitched her horse to a tree at their resting spot for the night on the outer edges of Emerald Graves. She pulled her coin purse from the bottom of her saddlebag as she took out her food for the night.

Nathaniel's eyes shot to Hale as she dismounted from her horse. She raised an eyebrow and one corner of her mouth turned in the slightest smirk.  Hale had considered a few other attempts at pickpocketing her comrades, but each time she saw the opportunity, she checked to see Nathaniel's location. The Lieutenant, fetching as he was, seemed to always be at some other location of their camp with his arms crossed, watching with sharp eyes. Eventually, she gave up the idea that looting her fellow Wardens could still be an option.

After the group set up their camp, the Wardens gathered round to settle in for the night. The members took their food packs from their saddles bags and sat down.

"Great," Lisbeth, a human from Denerim that Hale perceived to be a woman of few words, spoke loud enough for the group to hear. She was the woman Damia pulled up to dance with her when Hale drummed a few nights prior. "More dried meat."

"Lieutenant," Damia called from where she sat. Her tone sounded slightly worried, and a bit annoyed. "I don't think the Inquisition packed these rations with Wardens in mind. I'm running low."

Hale's ears perked and her eager eyes darted back to Nathaniel. Diligent about eating light in spite of hunger, her food supply was still plentiful. But like a puppy excited for a chance to play, Hale heard only an opportunity to hunt. And as if he sensed the swift turn of her head in his peripheral, Nathaniel nodded to Hale as he replied to Damia. "Based on Val and Isenam's report on the area, perhaps the young huntress can catch us a ram… or even some nugs."

"That'd be splendid, hun." Damia's honey-colored eyes smiled as she looked to Hale, who winked back. Using the pet name had become a running joke between them.

"Tomorrow morning," Nathaniel added, his expression dry and humorless. "When it's safe."

Mouth gaping open in disbelief, Hale prepared to argue with Nathaniel but Damia shook her head to discourage. In an exasperated reply, Hale rolled her eyes and huffed, mumbling something like 'fine.'

Damia, the 28-year-old from Redcliffe took a liking to the 19-year-old Elven woman, and the pair had bonded since that night at the campfire, in several ways. Fortunately, neither had been given night watch duties so far and they took advantage of that. Hale had stealthily snuck into Damia's tent on over one occasion, the first night being when she returned to the campfire after her incident with Nathaniel. If anyone knew of their liaisons it was the Lieutenant as he always took the first and longest watch when the Wardens split up for the night. But he remained tightlipped about this information if he knew.

And tonight, after some time eating and washing up at a nearby stream, and the Wardens went to their tents, Hale followed the routine they had developed and crept into Damia's tent.

Senses always activated and hyper-vigilant, even in the act of pleasing Damia, Hale was certain she heard footsteps that were undoubtedly Nathaniel's stop outside Damia's tent. Her head between Damia's legs, devotedly, with more experience than one would expect for someone her age, Hale's tongue rolled quickly against Damia's nub. Damia wriggled and writhed with pleasure from Hale's techniques, panting quietly, attempting to muffle all noise. But the sounds from their activities were not all mutable, and though Hale heard the footsteps, she did not stop. Instead, her long middle finger entered Damia and applied skillful pressure. With unfortunately perfect timing, Damia climaxed and inadvertently called Hale's name in the process.

Awkward and uncomfortable coughing from outside the tent echoed Damia's soft cry. Though she was certain this could be another mark on her long list of insubordinations, Hale was not sure she minded the Lieutenant overhearing them. When Damia was finished, Hale grinned widely as she kissed her way back up to Damia's face. Hale whispered through a grin into Damia’s ear, "We've been caught."

"You mean you've been caught," Damia whispered back, smiling. Her long auburn hair draped messily around her flushed face.

"It's yer sodding tent!" Hale rasped with amused annoyance.

The pair waited in silence for a few minutes until they heard the footsteps walk away. "You're fine, Hale. I think the Lieutenant fancies you," Damia assured, attempting to relax any anxieties Hale might have for getting in trouble.

Hale gave a short, breathy laugh. "Well, that's good for you then, innit?" She minimized the excitement that stirred from the confirmation of Hale’s own hopeful suspicion that the Lieutenant might be fond of her.

Stretched along each other, the pair joked, teased, and spoke about their pasts. Hale remained reserved in her disclosure. While they spoke, Damia enjoyed tracing the lines of Hale's vallaslin. They also discussed their friendship. And both agreed that the fun they were having was indeed only that; that they were simply friends and nothing more.

After some time, Hale departed from Damia’s tent to head back to her own. She tried to listen for the Lieutenant, timing her exit to avoid being caught with as much accuracy as she could, considering the circumstances. As the tent flap opened and she gingerly skulked the shadows of the encampment back to her bed, she heard another cough. A stern, purposeful clearing of the throat triggered Hale to peer to her side for the source. Though she was certain she knew what she would see when her eyes landed. On Nathaniel.

She froze in her tracks. His gaze, or maybe glare, looked both entertained and serious. One eyebrow raised, questioned her next move and challenging her to dare take another step. After a few long moments of this staring contest, when Nathaniel made no other comment, she made one stride without breaking eye contact. Her grin spread as he remained silent. She continued walking with obnoxious insolence, her feet silent with each step.

As she neared her tent, her back turned to the Lieutenant. She heard his voice from behind. "Thin ice, Hale." She froze again, waiting to see if there might be a reprimand for her actions. "You're safe to hunt before daybreak."

Slow blinks in gratitude, her body eased with relief for not being in trouble. But then she noticed as he stood some distance behind her, certain he was still watching, her heart was fluttering wildly; a knot was twisting in her stomach. The Lieutenant had to like her. Not that she cared. But again, she was getting away without a reprimand and she got to hunt in the morning. The gift of a hunt being far more prized than he realized.

Standing still for just a moment, waiting for any other words from Nathaniel, she heard him move.  And as if that were permission for her to leave, she entered her own tent and went to bed without even changing out of her light armor.

The next morning well before dawn, she awoke to the sound of voices and tuned into the conversation as best she could. Eager to get out and hunt, she listened to make sure there was no reason for her to delay.

"… I feel it," she heard snippets of the low, gruffness of Nathaniel's voice in reply to whoever he spoke, "… not darkspawn."

The voice that responded was one mage, Phillipa, a human woman from Highever who had the last watch before dawn. "… then?"

A long pause followed. Hale was not sure if the Lieutenant was whispering lower than she could hear or if he was thinking about his answer. "… Another Warden," he said after some time.

Nate's answer confirmed the lack of any impediments to her hunt. So Hale equipped her bow and quiver full of arrows and snuck out unseen. Fueled largely by the desire to avoid any awkward morning small-talk that might come with their attention, she preferred silence when she was preparing to hunt. It allowed her mind to stay out of her head and tune into nature around her. Being forced to talk would disrupt that entirely.

Long, light strides took her from the camp in darkness through thin clouds of low-lying fog. She headed into the denser forest. It was much more alive here than where they camped the previous nights. Vibrant greens of the plants and trees surrounded and the trees were more suitable for climbing. Ferns padded the ground, absorbing the impact of her steps effectively; she moved in silence. Senses aligned with the environment, Hale was aware of her distance from the camp. She chose her location based on the plant types and old tracks indicating the likelihood of animals crossing this path. Limber and strong, she climbed a nearby tree with grace. Higher and higher, she rose until she was satisfied with her field of view.

Then she waited. And waited. Her bow and an arrow stretched across her lap to be quickly lifted, nocked and aimed. Talented at knowing the exact placement of her armor and equipment to eliminate the chance of making noise, Hale took quiet stretches from her spot in the tree.

Finally, she spotted some nugs scurrying the forest floor beneath her. It was still dark out, but the pending sunrise was close. The light of stars was no longer visible through the canopy, birds were singing, and the fog had cleared.  Quick barely audible whispers of motion allowed her to lift her bow, nock the arrow and aim. Maintaining paced deliberate breaths, she followed the movement of the small, oblivious creature down the sight of the arrow. And on an exhale, she released. The instant whoosh of the projectile flew through the air and met its target.

By a fraction of a second, a soft thud preceded the screeching of the nug she shot and the others darted away from the killed creature. Without another thought, she reached behind to set an arrow, aimed and shot at another nug before it left her field of view. Another short, loud wail followed.

Hale grinned to herself, pleased with the ease of her successful hunt. The other nugs had already scurried away and were not worth the effort to follow from her current position. But as she readied herself to climb down the tree, she sensed movement of something larger. Human. She paused and peered through the branches, still well above the immediate periphery of the person below.

It was Nathaniel. He seemed to look for something. He looking for me? She wondered to herself, partially annoyed and partially flattered at his attention.

The rest of the woods were still, the nugs had all scurried and any surrounding wildlife had darted away after her successful shots. The sound of a pin dropping could have been heard, even on the fern covered ground.

Unaware of the dead nugs, Nate wandered on. With enrapt attention, she followed him with her eyes and noiselessly moved from limb to limb of the trees in the process. Her focus was instantly disrupted as she heard more signs of activity. Another human who she realized as he neared was not nearly as careful with his movements as Nathaniel.

"Warden?" Nathaniel called cautiously as the human neared.

"Brother!" The Warden replied, but his accent was different. He sounded Orlesian.

The Orlesian donned the traditional Grey Warden armor, just like what she wore. Hale's heart pounded in her throat. Something was wrong. She could sense Nathaniel's suspicion as the other Warden saluted him and then went to grab Nathaniel's hand. Before Nathaniel could pull away, the Orlesian Warden grabbed Nate and pulled him in for a hug.

Nathaniel tried to push, then instantly, the Lieutenant grasped his head with both hands and yelled loudly. It was as if there was something crawling under his skull he could not get out.

Hale's mouth dropped open, but she caught herself before she gasped. What occurred next was a confusing jumble of movements. Nathaniel's eyes looked to the Orlesian with accusation.

"What did you do to me?!" He yelled as he attempted to reach for a dagger at his belt. But his balance was off, and his body swayed as if he were drunk.

"That was the Calling, Brother of the Grey," the Orlesian answered calmly, interrupting Nate's movements by grabbing his fist so that Nate could not move to grab the dagger. "Clarel is gone, but those of us who are left must join Corypheus to end all Blights."

"No!" Nathaniel yelled, attempting to hit the Orlesian Grey Warden with his balled fist. But the Warden sidestepped and locked Nate's arms behind his back. His bind on the Lieutenant was brief. In what seemed to be a conscious moment, Nathaniel kicked backward and hit the Warden's shin, causing him to instinctively reach toward the wound. But in a quick turn, Nathaniel dove and met the Orlesian Warden's head with his own. The resounding thud of the impact was audible, even to Hale. But before Nate could take full advantage of his lead, he doubled over in pain, again grabbing at his head as if the impact had reminded him of the 'Calling' that the Orlesian had informed. What the fuck is the Calling?

The Orlesian Warden recovered fast though covering the place where his head was now bleeding. He took steps toward Nathaniel and reached, his mouth open, about to speak.

The swoosh of an arrow from above pierced through the side of the Orlesian’s armor into his chest. Stunned, the Warden stood motionless for a minute, his mouth gaping. He looked down to the puncture, touched the blood that seeped from it and studied the red on his hand.

Confusion. The sight of blood from a wound that appeared from nowhere caused him to sway.  

Hale took the opportunity of the Orlesian Warden's lack of movement to call to Nathaniel. "Lieutenant? You okay?" She asked with concern. Nathaniel did not answer, as if he could not hear her from the pain in his head. A minute later, she called again, this time daring to use his first name. "Nathaniel?... Nate?" Saying it made her stomach flip, as though she was breaking some divine rule by calling him anything other than Lieutenant. He still did not answer.

As the Orlesian Warden rocked where he stood, he glanced up to Hale in the trees. His mouth opened and closed as if to speak but no words came. Then, he coughed and gargled. Blood bubbled from his mouth, dripping down his chin. And suddenly, it was over; the Orlesian fell to his knees, then forward to the ground.

Swift, Hale lowered a few branches and dropped down. Her feet landing in the softest thud on the forest floor a safe distance from Nathaniel. She walked to him carefully. Though her concern for the Lieutenant was strong, she feared what she would find.

Dawn came to the woods but the dense forest and brush in the early morning did not illuminate the clearing, adding to Nate's confusion. He stumbled, reaching out for support from a tree and grabbed at his head with the other. Red, slick, wet trails on his head reminded him of the fight.

Hale stepped closer and his eyes darted to her. "What… what happened?" He asked, with bewilderment as if he did not understand the violent events of the last few minutes.

"You were… you were attacked by that Orlesian," she said as she gestured to the dead man. Her voice was cautious, unsure of how he might respond.

"Why-?" He asked, then he groaned. He looked to the dead Warden lying near them. "Damn it! What did I do?"

"You fought dirty, Lieutenant," she replied smugly and snorted. "I was impressed. But that didn't stop him so I loosed an arrow into the whoreson."

"Fuck," he replied shortly, with no other words. His consciousness seemed to return, but his eyes squinted as his thumb and middle finger rested at his temples.

"He was attacking you," she replied assuredly, insisting that her course of action was the only option. "Looked like he was gonna kill you or take you back to that Corypheus wanker."

"Damn it," he said to no one in particular, as if he had not heard a word she said. She suspected he was holding information that would make this entire incident far less confusing.

"What do we do now?" Hale asked as innocently as she could manage. Her next course of action would have been to hide the body, take the nugs and pretend nothing ever happened.

"Leave the body. It’s done. We have to get back to camp," Nathaniel replied. Hale's eyebrows rose with surprise at the simplicity of his plan.  "We will discuss how to proceed."

"Yes, sir," Hale said respectfully, curious about what 'proceeding' meant.

She insisted on collecting her arrows and the nugs before they returned to the camp. The sun was now rising, the prominent colors from the sunrise just visible through the canopy of trees. A few of the Ferelden Grey Wardens had awoken and packed their belongings. As long as Nathaniel's tent was still up, they knew not to rush.

"Come to my tent," Nathaniel ordered Hale without looking at her.

She followed without a word, though her heart fluttered again and the knot in her stomach was noticeable. It's not to plough you, arsehole. He just wants to figure out how to 'proceed.' She scolded herself for her body’s reaction to his order as she followed Nathaniel into his tent.

It smelled strongly of him. Earthy. Clean but sweet, like mountain air and freshly cut hay. She scanned the tent. He was neat. His bedroll was made, his clothing and other belongings tidily stored in his bag. It differed greatly from her tent. Her bedroll was in whatever state she last used it, the layers of blankets usually disarrayed; her clothing strewn about until she threw it in her bag or put it on.

Hesitant, she waited for his direction as he silently stood across from her in the small tent. With his arms folded across his chest looking deep in thought, he took his time as he spoke.

"Have you heard of the Calling?" He asked as though the words were fragile. She wondered if he had been asking himself how to ask this question.

"I heard that Orlesian telling you about it," she answered honestly. "What is it?"

Nathaniel sighed and briefly explained the Calling to Hale. Her eyes widened as he spoke, her eyebrows raised. His tone was almost apologetic as if he did not enjoy telling her this information.

Hale shrugged. "Good. Wasn't planning on making it to 50 anyway. But what's it to do with the Orlesian Warden, if he was actually a Warden?"

Nathaniel smirked at her response, pleased with Hale's cynical optimism. Then he sighed again. "He was suffering from a false Calling," Nathaniel said and explained what little he knew about the false Calling and the reason she could not experience it. "The taint is so new to your blood, just like how you cannot sense the connection to other Wardens. The Ferelden Grey Wardens learned to overcome the false Calling when we first sensed it a year ago."

Hale nodded. It was all making sense. She knew that the bond of blood the Commander discussed so often in her speeches would not affect her yet. "So," she started. "How the fuck are you supposed to go into Orlais if this false Calling will fuck with yer head?"

He smiled as she cursed. His smile. A smirk that made her stomach twist and her head fuzzy. She realized she would be willing to do a number of things to get that smirk from him. "We can't touch the remaining corrupted Grey Wardens. Ideally, we stay as far from them as possible. You, young Warden, will be safe either way," Nathaniel replied.

Hale nodded and took a deep breath, processing all this information. "So what's it to do with me? It all sounds like stuff you should tell the other Senior Wardens." She asked skeptically, unsure of why he brought her to his tent.

Frowning, Nathaniel lowered his voice, his brow creased, serious, reminded of why she was there. "You broke protocol. You've killed a Grey Warden," Nathaniel scolded. "And you did so without my order."

"Yeah, I did," Hale gave a stubborn reply. "And you can bloody well thank me."

"Damn it, Hale. We don't just kill other Grey Wardens. You could have shot to debilitate him. We could have taken him for questioning and gathered more information. We might have found a cure for the corruption."

"But he was going to-" she defended, but Nate interrupted her sternly.

"It doesn't matter, Hale," he said with authority. His frown, his expression dark, disappointed, and almost angry. Hale's stomach dropped as he chided her. "Grey Wardens kill darkspawn. Killing humans is a last resort and certainly never our own brethren."

She squinted as he spoke. Really?! I saved this bastard's fucking life, and he's angry with me for it? Nate's words stoked her rage. "Fuck that, Lieutenant! You were out of yer mind and he was making it happen." Her voice raised, and he tried to hush her.

"Silence, Warden," he said through clenched teeth.

She didn't respond. The sound of her teeth grinding as her lips pursed was audible in the tent. She glared at him for a second before she turned on her feet and left in a rush. The tent flap swung back in from the force with which she fled.

She ran from the encampment. It was still in the process of being packed. Now early morning, the sky through the shade of trees was blue and clear. Head dizzy with fury and heart heavy with the sadness underneath, she jogged to a nearby clearing. Misunderstood, as usual. And worse, by the Lieutenant. He did not realize how scared she was for him. Stop being so fucking weak! She shamed herself as angry tears streamed down her face. Resentfully she wiped them away.

A moment later, she heard the sound of a man's steps jogging up behind her and she turned around to face the Lieutenant.

He ran straight to her, stopped, and glared. He was panting from the jog, but his voice was strong as it carried through the forest. "You do not walk away from me!" He yelled. "You report to me, Warden, and you do not walk away unless you are ordered to do so."

Nostrils flaring, Hale's lips remained closed, tightly pursed and her chin jutted. Her weight shifted to one leg in a defensive posture and her brow furrowed furiously.

"Are you even committed to the order?" Nathaniel asked in annoyance. He neared her, standing within arms reach. She could touch him, smell him, feel his body's warmth. But his chastising continued, "You can act like a Grey Warden and follow my commands...or would you rather just stay a thief?"

Before Nate acknowledged her motions, Hale's fist swung around and hit his jaw, hard. His head spun with and he staggered from the impact. Nathaniel shifted his mouth and touched his lip where it bled. When he looked back to Hale, she was flexing her hand and shaking it out. Her eyes were wide with fear when they looked up to meet his but she did not speak. Having seen his blood on his hand, he glared at her.

"Go." He ordered lowly, rage boiling beneath the surface. "Pack your tent."

Without another word, Hale turned and ran back to the encampment. Her chest tightened, heart pounding in her head and her face was hot with mixed emotions. It was as though her unusual ally had betrayed her with his harsh words. Even so, she knew her reaction was inexcusable. Hale was still angry with the Lieutenant and afraid of what consequences might follow, but most of all, she was saddened to have burned the bridge with the man she wanted.

[greyias]

15

Sweet Affectionate Moments Prompts - 15. A Hope We Don’t Get Caught Kiss

A dark Nar Shaddaa alleyway wasn’t exactly where Theron had wanted to spend Zhellday night with his girlfriend, but he hadn’t exactly had a choice in the matter. Partially because he needed to stay incognito to observe his target, but also partly because he had really tried to leave her behind.

Chatter in the underworld indicated that the coordinates to Odessen had been leaked and someone was attempting to sell them to the highest bidder. Lana was remaining behind on base to trace the source of their leak while Theron took it upon himself to bust up the sale before Arcann could get his hands on the location of their homebase. 

But apparently Greyias Highwind was a particularly stubborn breed of Jedi, and wasn’t very adept at picking up the subtle hints Theron kept dropping (in the war room, on the walk to the shuttle, on the entire flight to Nar Shaddaa) that he was a professional and this was something he could handle on his own. It was his and Lana’s job to sniff out and handle these sort of threats, and it was the Commander’s job to handle the heavy hitters and the impossible missions no one else could pull off.

Also she didn’t blend in. Like at all. What with the giant colorful pauldrons doubling the size of her shoulders, a cape that liked to billow dramatically at the slightest flutter of a breeze, and her penchant to strike heroic poses without realizing it, she had a tendency to command attention wherever she went. It worked well when she needed to make a big rousing speech, less so when Theron needed to blend into the shadows to keep some opportunist from selling the location of their secret rebel base.

So right now the best he could do was try and make her hide behind a particularly odious dumpster as she scanned the crowd bustling through the Promenade with a very fancy set of macrobinoculars. Theron was pretty sure that he’d seen Deena Riss using something of the like when she had been facing off with the Shroud. He tried to suppress an unexpected burst of jealousy that his Jedi girlfriend had cooler spy tech than him, the professional spy, and instead tried to focus on narrowing down the bands on his audio feed. He’d had time to plant a few bugs in strategic locations throughout Lucent Square, but they still needed a little more calibration. Normally he’d have done a broad spectrum analysis beforehand so he didn’t have to try and manually tune everything, but there really hadn’t been time.

“Any movement yet?” He asked offhand, more focused on his datapad’s display and the monotonous drone in his ear than anything that was happening in the square.

“No. Are you sure this is where they’re supposed to be?”

He gave a small nod, still trying to tune out the competing frequencies. “Intel says there’s some sort of meeting that’s supposed to take place in front of that eyesore of a statue.”

“That seems a little harsh.”

“Have you seen the hat on top of it?”

“I have.”

“I rest my case.”

“I think the original hat is quite fetching up close,” she said haughtily, “especially in its actual color.”

Theron paused in his calibrations to give her a skeptical look. “Do I even want to ask how you know what Karagga’s hat looks like up close?”

“I was on the strike team that stormed his palace.”

“Of course you were.” Theron sighed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “let’s return to your poor taste in hats.”

“It’s a nice hat!”

“It’s a bell with a spike on it!”

“And it coordinated really well with his cape!”

“Let me guess, ‘it was a really nice cape’?”

“From the tone of your voice it doesn’t sound like you really believe that.”

Theron was starting to get an idea why she didn’t exactly have much variation in her wardrobe back on Odessen. Well, other than the fact that she had been frozen in carbonite for five years and lost most of her worldly possessions in the ensuing years. Okay, when he thought about it like that, maybe he shouldn’t make fun of her fashion sense so much—even if it was pretty objectively terrible.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little surprised that you have cape envy. For a Hutt gangster of all people.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, what with the jealous way you’ve been glaring at my macrobinoculars all evening.”

He was about to snap out a response, when a high-pitched noise shrieked in his earpiece. He winced and yanked it out of his ear. “What the hell?”

“Don’t pretend you haven’t—”

Theron ignored her, and instead snatched the macrobinoculars from her hands. He didn’t listen to her indignant protest, more intent on scanning the Promenade. The bench where the meet was supposed to take place was still empty, but a tall Nikto had taken a keen interest in the column where Theron had hidden one of his bugs. He tapped a few of the intricate controls on the macrobinoculars, and they zoomed in on a device in the Nikto’s hands. It was a signal interceptor, a counterintelligence device that was able to piggyback onto encrypted transmissions. He let out a quiet curse.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone just found one of my bugs, and I think—oh yeah. Yeah, he’s turning this way. Quick follow my lead!”

“Your—”

The question didn’t even finish forming, ending in a startled squeak as Theron grabbed her and shoved her up against the wall. He also quickly stowed the macrobinoculars into a pocket so it wouldn’t be seen. It was Nar Shaddaa, so normally two shady figures skulking in an alleyway wouldn’t be an immediate cause for alarm. However anyone used to trading in stolen information would definitely be spooked by seeing a Jedi, which Grey so very obviously was. If the seller realized that the Alliance was on to him he’d probably disappear—and they might not be in a position to prevent the next sale. It was unclear if the Nikto was the buyer or seller, and if they took him down without knowing it might just make the situation even worse. Theron wasn’t sure if he could completely cover her up from the Nikto’s line of sight, but he did his best, crowding in close.

“What are you doing?”

Without any preamble, Theron captured her lips in his, silencing her just as the alleyway was filled with the sound of heavy footfalls. She caught on fairly quickly, returning the kiss with fervor, one arm braced against his chest, while the other speared through his hair. Normally he would have happily gotten lost in the soft feel of her lips pressing against his, in the way her tongue dancing against his lit a fire deep within his belly���but he couldn’t afford to let his attention wander. This was the real reason he had tried so hard to keep the personal and professional spheres of his life separate. It complicated things, divided his focus and made it hard to solely devote his mind to the task at hand. One slip at the wrong moment could prove deadly.

He tried to calculate how quickly he could pull his blaster and get a shot off as a long, tall shadow cut through the alleyway. Theron adjusted his stance, turning his back more to the entrance to the alleyway in an attempt to cover up those ridiculous pauldrons—even as the action made the back of his neck feel itchy. Through narrowed slits, he caught a reflection off the scratched up hull of a speeder heap in the back of the alley, and watched as the Nikto paused at the entrance to the alleyway. The alien seemed to spot the two of them with ease, and eyed the overzealous public display of affection with great scrutiny. 

Theron was just starting to wonder if he needed to alter tactics, attempt to take out the tall alien with one of the stun darts in his bracers when the shadow at the entrance to the alleyway retreated, and the light from the Promenade flooded back in. He gave it a few more seconds just to be safe before he broke away from the kiss and peered over his shoulder to confirm that they were alone again.

He let out a sigh of relief, stepping away from the grimy wall and giving Grey some breathing room as well. Some of the hair had escaped her ponytail, and she looked a little breathless, fingers ghosting across her lips. Normally he’d take that as a compliment, maybe rib her a little, but he didn’t have time to indulge in that (or the effect their impromptu makeout session had on him) — and he brought the macrobinoculars back to bear. 

The device quickly picked their target back up, and narrowed in as the tall alien made a quick holocall. The HUD flashed a readout as it tried to identify the frequency the call was on, but the conversation was too quick. Theron was able to make out a few words. His Nikto was rusty on the best of days, and even more so when he was trying to read lips. Something about a change of location and time.

“What’s he saying?” A quiet voice near his ear asked after a few moments.

He kept watching, catching the tail end of the conversation. Something about wanting more money. And a name: the Gilded Lily.

“I think,” Theron said carefully after a few moments, “we’re going to need to change our dinner plans.”

“We didn’t have dinner plans,” she said slowly.

“We do now.” Theron lowered the macrobinoculars and tossed a sidelong glance at the Jedi eyeing him curiously. “Although I’m going to have to get you out of that armor.”

“Excuse me?” Even under the neon lights he could see the color rush to her cheeks.

“And into something a bit more formal.” Theron tilted his head back across Lucent Square, and just barely out of sight was the glittering lights of the most prominent restaurant in the entire Promenade. “Looks like trouble is on the menu for tonight.”

Part Two: Dress Shopping!