#well guess what? there was plenty yesterday and today even though I am tired as fuck

[auphelia]

Sometimes all I need really is to just visit my parents and play video games with my dad for 10+ hours in two days...

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 10]

Does Your Dog Do Tricks?

TW: Language, Ghosts, dead bodies, gun use, break-in-and-enter Genre: Comedy Pairing: Suh Johnny x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 0.9K Prompt: Werewolves. Not the ABO kind.

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: I know! I know, not the kind of fic y'all had in mind! Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

"Oh my goodness! Who is this handsome boy?! How cute, he's even wearing shorts!" Your coworker gushed one day, bending down to meet the Doberman's eye.

"Oh, it's Johnny," you said. Your coworker froze.

"Johnny? Like... Johnny Suh?!" She shouts, her hands hovering on either side of the Doberman's face.

"Yup."

"Your boyfriend's a werewolf?!" She half whispers.

"I guess technically he's a weredog," you corrected her. Johnny barked next to you. "He just uses his dog form when we're on the train, we pay less," you explained. Then, with a quick column of light surrounding the Doberman, Johnny steps out and shakes his hair out.

"Hey, Karina," he waves and her jaw drops. You shove a shirt toward Johnny and he pulls it over his head.

"Suddenly the shorts make sense," she huggs.

"Yup," you nodded and Johnny flattened out his shirt with his hands.

"We're not late, are we?" He asks.

"Nope... but, uh, I didn't know werewolves could change between forms so readily," Karina follows close behind while you and Johnny take off.

"Nope, not usually," Johnny answers. He opens his weather app and shows Karina. "Full moon tonight, my transformations are kind of going haywire right now," he shakes his head. "Really bad."

"That's why I told him to cancel our meetings today, but no, he decided to be hard-headed and keep them," you rolled your eyes.

"It'll be fine! I'm not the one in them anyway!"

"No, but you're going to be right next to me, so how am I going to explain to old geezers why there's a whole ass dog sitting next to me one minute and a half-naked man then next?!" You sat behind the desk, the nameplate '(Y/N) Suh - CEO' glimmering in the sunlight as you did so. Johnny took the usual secretary's desk a few steps away and, again, another column of light and, instead, you see a dog sitting on a chair. "Look at that!" You groaned.

"Wow, you really are a cute dog though, Mr. Suh!" Karina comments. Johnny barks and you run a tired hand down your face. Sure, there's less of a stigma of werewolves in the workplace now, but considering the age range of shareholders it'll still pose a challenge to have Johnny switching back and forth between man and dog for a whole meeting. He can barely keep one form for more than an hour before switching back, and it was impossible to determine the length in between too. "Maybe I can sit in instead?" Karina asks.

"I'd ask you to, as well, but it's a 'no,'" you sighed. Another column of light.

"Unless you know the entire file on our property in Mexico, it's not a good idea," Johnny says and Karina flinches in surprise.

"We have a property in Mexico?!" She turns to you.

"Exactly my point," you shook your head. "It's fine, we'll just have to wing it!" You said. "Johnny, you think you can try to stay in one-" A column of light. You sighed.

"Borf!" Johnny barks and you buried your face in your hands.

"We're so screwed."

~

You were so on edge. You were nearing the end of the shareholder's meeting and somehow, miraculously, Johnny had stayed in human form for nearly two hours. Which meant that he was overdue for a transformation and that nagged at the back of your mind.

"What do you think, Mr. Suh? Should we invest more into the Mexico property?"

"Oh absolutely," Johnny nods. "There's plenty to do and even more to see in our location and we want to make use of that," he says. Your phone rings next to him.

"Speaking of," you cleared your throat and slid it to Johnny. "Please answer this for me, let me know what they say," you instructed. Johnny nods, leaving the room with your phone in his hand. You crossed your arms.

"And what about you, CEO?" The shareholder turns to you.

"I also second the investment in our Mexico property. If anything, we should divert the extra funds we put into our China property and," you noticed the slight beam of light under the door and you swallowed harshly. Then, to your horror, the door swung open again and Johnny trotted in, as a dog, and sat next to you.

"Suh, is that a dog?" The shareholder asks. You look at Johnny. And Johnny looks back at you, phone in his mouth. You took the phone back.

"Yes, this is... my dog," you nodded.

"A well-trained breed, John must have stepped out for a moment and given your phone to him, does he know any other tricks?" One of the shareholders ask.

"He knows a couple," you nodded and handed him a pen. Johnny took it in his mouth and signed a paper with his signature.

"Remarkable!" Another shareholder exclaims. "How did you train your dog to do that?"

"Well-" You are cut off by the beam of light next to you and there sits Johnny, pen still in his mouth and without a shirt.

"My god..." The man across from you drops his pen and the woman next to him drops his jaw.

"So... uh... Mexico," Johnny grins and slides the deed toward the shareholders.

"Right... we're both onboard," the man says slowly, signing the document while still looking surprised. The woman next to him was the same.

"Dear god..." you sighed, and another column of light flashes next to you and there sits the Doberman with a wide smile.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

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[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Care for Vampire ー Sakamaki Shuu

Source: Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke

Audio: Here

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

The scene starts at a classic music concert.

“Hm...Haah...”

You ask if something is wrong.

“...Not really. Don’t mind me and just focus on the performance. You’re the one who invited me here after all. ...Haah.”

You keep on pestering Shuu instead. 

“...Didn’t you hear me when I told you to listen to the music? I’m not bored of it. I’m just...feeling a little sluggish, that’s all.”

You raise a brow.

“...You gave me that ‘that’s nothing new’ look just now, didn’t you?’

You panic.

“I honestly don’t mind. But don’t shout like that. It’ll ruin the beautiful composition by Bach. 

...

...I meant that I feel even more listless than usual.”

You ask him if he’s feeling okay.

“I’m sure it’s fine? More importantly...Don’t you have something else to do? ...You dense woman.”

*Rustle*

“Lend me your shoulder. ...My neck’s tired.”

He lends his head on your shoulder.

“Haah...I’m seriously tired...I can’t even keep my mind on the music like this, it sucks...”

You regret coming here.

“...And that’s coming from the person who invited me? I didn’t exactly come here out of my free will either. You said you wanted to go together, right? Have you already forgotten about yesterday?”

You shake your head.

“If you remember, then stop complaining. You just need to keep quiet and support me.”

You frown.

“...I’m not expecting you to do anything for me, really. ..Aah, speaking of which, there is one thing. Something even you should be capable of.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Loosen my tie.”

You seem surprised.

“It’s suffocating. You tied it way too tight because you were so persistent about wearing the suit ‘properly’. It might have worsened my condition so it only makes sense for the person resposible to fix their own mistakes...No?”

You hesitate.

“Hurry up. ...You’re worried about me, aren’t you?

*Rustle rustle*

“You struggled quite a bit when tying it as well, so do you think you can loosen it?”

You don’t seem very confident.

“...’That’s’? ...What? ...Are you trying to put the blame on me? I don’t remember doing anything to deserve that kind of attitude from you though? I was only watching you, nothing more. You can’t blame me for your brain coming up with random assumptions, can you? If you have anything to disprove that theory, Igo ahead. I’m listening?”

You look defeated.

“Pfft...Come on, your hands stopped moving.”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Well, that’ll do, I suppose. Now unbutton the shirt next.”

You shriek.

“What are you so surprised about? Just having the necktie loosened barely makes any difference. Take off my jacket while you’re at it as well. You’re a professional at taking off my clothes, aren’t you?”

You protest.

“Is that so, But yesterdaーー”

You quickly stop him.

“Haha, what are you getting so flustered about? I’m talking about when I plopped straight onto the bed after we came back home and you made me take off my jacket at least. Did you imagine something else, perhaps?”

Your face turns even brighter red.

“Heh...You really are a lewd woman...”

You puff out your cheeks. 

“What? Are you implying that I’m lying? Because someone is taking their sweet time, I’m only feeling even more uncomfortable. Hurry up and pop open the buttons. I’ll let the jacket thing slide.”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Well, I guess you did a decent job for someone like you. It’s a little easier to breathe now.”

*Clap clap clap*

“...The song has ended.”

The crowd grows noisy.

“You really think the concert would be over this quickly? It’s break time. Most classical music concerts have a short break in between the two parts.”

You ask Shuu what to do during the break. 

“What, you ask...? Beats me. Just do whatever you please, I guess. There’s a counter as well so why not go grab yourself a drink? I usually just rest in my chair per usual. Aah...But today you’re here with me. Perfect. Get on top of me.”

You are startled once more.

"I said it’s break time, remember? I’m thirsty as well. Let me suck your blood. If I have some of your blood...It might help against this sluggish feeling as well...I was so kind to accompany you here, so that’s the least you can do in return, no? 

Right now any sounds you make would just mix in with all of the background noise, so it works in your favor, no? If you’re confident you can hold your voice back, I wouldn’t mind waiting until the performance starts again either though...?”

You shake your head.

“So? What will you do? I don’t mind either way.”

You refuse.

“You asked me if there’s anything you could do for me and now you’re turning down my request?”

*Rustle rustle*

“I’m sure you’re just dying to have all sorts of things done to you as I’m carressing you like this as well, aren’t you?

You flinch.

“Haha, when you deny it in a state of panic, it only looks even more suspicious.”

The people return to their seats.

“...People have started coming back. If you keep on dawdling, the break will end, you know? If you do a fine job...I won’t just suck your blood, but I’ll even throw in a kiss, okay? That would be the real reward for you, no? Yesterday...You seemed quite pleased to be kissed by me as well? You were happy, weren’t you? Like thisーー”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Nn...”

*Smooch*

“Don’t play dumb. The marks...are still left there on your skin as well. Why not take a look yourself? 

*Rustle rustle*

“No, not on your nape. You told me not to because it’s a visible place, remember? ...Try loosening your collar a little.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Come on, just do it.”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Look, over here.”

You seem surprised by the hickeys on your cleavage. 

“Haha...You can see it clearly, no? Well, I’m sure you know better than anyone else that this isn’t the only place where I left my mark.”

You whimper in embarrassment. 

“...So, how long are you gonna keep sitting there with your cleavage exposed?”

You seem surprised, having forgotten about that part.

“Are you enticing me, perhaps?”

You shake your head.

“If not that, that makes you just a genuine pervert though. I didn’t force you. You chose to listen to me through your own free will, remember? If you truly didn’t want to, I doubt you would be over here showing off your chest in public.”

You grow flustered again.

“...Heh. I truly never get tired of you and your reactions.”

All of the people return to their seats.

“The break’s over, huh? What a shame. ...Pwaah. Messing around with you only made me even more tired...Oi, your shoulder.”

You frown.

“One more time. Hurry up.”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Haah...”

You ask him if the two of you should head home.

“...No, I’m still gonna keep on listening. You got tickets because you were interested in this performance, didn’t you? ...Or am I wrong?”

You explain.

“...Hm. Because you wanted to come here with me...huh?

...

...Oi. In return for keeping you company till the end of the performance, keep lending me your shoulder...Also, give me your hand.”

You ask him why.

“Holding your hand helps me keep my mind off things. Make sure to squeeze it tightly and not let go, okay?”

*Rustle*

“...Just like that. 

...

...Oi. ...Don’t ‘eh?’ me? Why have you been stroking the palm of my hand this whole time?”

You tell him that it feels nice.

“Hah...? Why would that feel nice?”

You explain.

“A massage...? Haah...I think you’re not putting in enough strength then, you know? It only feels like you’re lightly carrassing it.”

You frown.

“I was a fool for leaving things up to you. ...Spread your fingers.”

*Rustle rustle*

He intertwines your fingers.

“Now keep holding it like that. Nothing more.”

You blush.

“...Are you flustered?”

You speak up.

“...Yes?”

You ask if he feels better.

“Well, I guess I feel a little more comfortable.”

You point out that your blood was not needed after all.

“Who knows. Sucking your blood might have eased the feeling even more, but you denied me.”

You protest.

“But you did, didn’t you? You said no.”

You explain.

"Hm...So you wouldn’t have minded getting on top of my lap if we weren’t out here in public?”

You get flustered again.

“Don’t forget what you said just now. I’ll make sure you stick to them once we get back home. Thanks to you...I feel a little more energized as well. I better get some rest right now, so I can live up to your expectations later. Soーー”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Just like that for now. I’ll tend to you plenty once we get home, so satisfy me right now...”

ーー THE END ーー

[zarara]

something else?

pairings: dense!diluc x traveler!reader, a little kaeya x reader moment plot: read it and find out (pls my brain is laggy but one day i will write a summary) genre: fluff, angst perhaps note: i am apparently capable of writing fairly straightforward stories

if there was anything in the world you would pay to have an endless supply of, it would have to be tea… though the idea of infinite mora sounded as interesting, you were sure your talents in combat would make sure you didn’t find yourself broke or clueless like zhongli.

it’s just that tea was perfect — coffee was a close contender but the bitter aftertaste always found you having to pile it up with more sugar than healthy. tea also had no aftermath on your already deranged sleep schedule. it tasted sweet but rich, it was efficient, and it was warm.

you usually enjoyed your daily cup of tea in the solitude of your chambers but today you were making an exception because kaeya, your superior and over-the-top flirt of a friend, insisted you take your evening snack with him at the tavern.

“there isn’t even a snack provision at the tavern! it’s a tavern for archon’s sake!” kaeya is great at ignoring your complaints as he pulls you into the seat next to him.

“i asked sara to bring some honey roast over for us,” kaeya winks at the young man handling the counter in lieu of an order and you hurriedly pipe up a “tea for me please!”

“now, would you please stop your whining, you baby?”

your mouth drops open, “i’m the baby? you were the one begging to take me to drinks instead of helping me finish that pack of hilichurls!”

“i did mention that i got rid of that abyss mage for you when you weren’t looking.”

“i don’t understand you, kaeya,” you take hold of the cup that the man behind the counter sets down, “but anyway, what is it you want from me?”

kaeya smirks over his glass of dandelion wine, “ah, quite straightforward, aren’t we?”

you kick his shin ungently, “let me ask again: what do you want?”

kaeya takes a sip and becomes uncharacteristically quiet. in fact, he doesn’t even comment when you keep staring at him.

“kaeya…?”

before you can continue to investigate what’s up with him, you hear a familiar voice behind your shoulder.

“well, what have we here?”

“diluc!” the red haired man takes place of the young man who looks relieved to not have to bear witness as a bartender.

“hello, y/n, how do you do?”

you smile, the warmth in diluc’s voice going unmissed, “i’m just fine, although a certain someone has taken it upon themselves to ruin my ritual of tea and silence.”

kaeya props a hand around your shoulders, “i’m just repaying you for getting rid of all those gnarly hilichurls.”

whatever was bothering kaeya a moment ago seems to have disappeared, especially in the presence of his arch rival, diluc.

diluc calmly reaches over to lift kaeya’s hand off your shoulder as if it’s the corpse of a slime he’s picking up and hurls it away. “please, kaeya, i thought you didn’t pursue women who’d clearly expressed their lack of interest.”

“and i thought you were too superior to everyone else to stick your nose in their business.”

“well,” you butt in before the two can actually slit each other’s throats, “i thought it was reasonable to agree to work under jean but i guess we all have things we’re wrong about, don’t we?”

diluc’s expression dampens into something like sadness when you mention your overworked state but you brush it off by chugging the rest of your tea. “oh, before i forget,” you rummage through your meagre backpack before removing a package, handing it over to kaeya, “this is for you.”

kaeya looks perplexed, looking between you and diluc, and slowly places a hand on the package, “for me?”

“a client painted the scenery from luhua for me because i found his paintbrushes and supplies, and i know you like your souvenirs, so you can have it.”

“....” kaeya is still speechless and diluc has you pinned with a look of suspicion.

“but why would give it to him?”

“because i go to luhua way too often already and i know kaeya is usually stuck around monstadt so…”

“that’s incredibly sweet of you, my love,” kaeya regains his senses and as you stand up to leave, he pulls you into a hug.

“you’re welcome, boss,” you smile as you pull away, “anyway, i must be on my way.”

“do you think the traveller is with someone?”

maids at dawn winery sure do love to gossip.

“with her looks and strength, for sure! my bets are on master diluc.”

okay, look, you didn’t meant to eavesdrop on them but they were right there when you came out of the washroom. you were going to walk out and pretend like you hadn’t heard them but hearing diluc’s name shook you.

“no,, what about mr kaeya? i heard they hang out after long, tiring quests all the time.”

“but she and master diluc love to discuss-”

all righty, time to evacuate.

“!!”

you manage to keep a poker face as you throw the door open in their faces and stride past them, making your way to the room with diluc.

you quickly dash in, closing the door behind you. you knOW your face is flushed so you turn away from diluc.

diluc frowns. that’s weird. why are you hiding from him?

he rises from his chair, “y/n? is everything okay? are you hurt?”

“y-yeah, i’m just embarrassed.”

you feel yourself being turned around by two big hands on your elbows.

diluc’s concerned eyes meet yours and you almost melt into a puddle of slimy plasma because he’s so hot even though he’s just worried.

“you’re red. why are you red?”

“...i’m fine.”

as if he’s aware of your flustered state, he moves closer to your face in order to look into your eyes which makes a new batch of blood flow to your face.

“y/n, you need to tell me what’s wrong. is it a fever? i can call—”

“nO! it’s nothing. just—!” you break away from his (very intense) hold and move away into the room for fresh air. “stupid me.”

“no way, she did not!”

diluc is immensely frustrated with venti. he has the most unusual reactions to everything diluc says and usually he doesn’t give a shit, but this is about you and your weird state yesterday, so yES he gives a shit!! >:-(

“yes, she did. i’m telling you she did. why are you—”

“oh, i heard you, i just can’t believe that the calm and strong little traveler would lose her cool and around you of all people!”

“heY, what do you mean? i’m perfectly fine as a person to lose one’s cool around.”

yep, diluc has no idea what he’s saying.

it’s just

he thinks the world of you

he really, really likes spending time with you (even when you guys are just talking about the fatui’s next move! or how you found new cool ways to take down an abyss mage!)

you’re so sweet and you don’t take his words for what they’re not. you’re not taken aback by his bluntness and you’re able to make him laugh.

what more does he need in life

well, apparently, venti because he has no idea what to do after you suddenly left the dawn winery that day.

“ugh”

“you’re really worried, huh?”

“was that not crystal clear by now? i came all the way to windrise to talk to you!”

venti chuckles his annoying chuckle

“okay, okay, i’ll help you,” diluc sighs as he waits venti to go on, “here’s what i think: she likes you back.”

..

what

diluc.exe has stopped working

man just blanks out

short-circuits, fireworks, malfunction — you name it.

“diluc?”

“no.”

“what do you mean, no?”

“first of all, why did you say ‘likes you back’? i- i don’t like her or anything. and secondly, no, she does not like me.”

“i’m going to pretend like i didn’t even hear the first part. about the second thing, here’s a question for you: why?”

“because she likes kaeya!”

venti pauses, “i was not aware there was another contender. diluc, you bastard, tell me all the details next time.”

“does this mean she just hates my guts?”

“no, it just means she may or may not like you. back.”

“i told you—!” venti stands up breaking off diluc’s sentence midway, brushing grass off his palms.

“take her to dinner or something tonight and ask her.”

“ask her? ask her what— wait, where are you going, you stupid bard— ASK HER WHAT?”

life is hard for a traveller

you’ve just managed to finish delivering grilled fish to a jack who wants become more manly when katheryne sets you thREE more commissions saying there was a crazy influx of requests suddenly.

you barely manage to uproot two hilichurl camps, and by the third quest, you’re quite dead inside. if only some rogue eye of the storm wasn’t terrorizing civilians.

you’ve gotten in a hit or two in when you skip over a stone and fall right on your face

“fUCK!”

shit

ouch

ouch shit

that hurt

you manage to twist around and keep the eye away with a half-earnest windblade attack and try to sit up.

damn it, is this the pitiful way you die? dammit, you at least wanted to drink your evening tea—

a flash of fiery thunder catches your attention

is that…?

“y/n! stay where you are!”

yup, it’s diluc in all his dark knight hero glory. he finishes off the stupid green eyeball in less than three fire-charged strikes.

you sigh in relief, falling back against the grass.

“hey, hey, hey,” diluc enters your field of vision, red strands falling into his face as he leans down to cradle your head in his lean arms, “where did you injure yourself?”

you tremble a little as you try to lift your foot, “a-ah, my right foot. i twisted my ankle probably. thanks for fi—”

“shh-shh, you’ll have plenty of time to thank me. come on, can you sit up?”

you grab his wrist and prop yourself against his chest so that you’re practically in his lap.

“that’s great, let me take a look at—”

“mhm!! don’t move. please,” you can feel diluc’s breathing tense behind you as you lean into him, “i think the eye hit me while i was down- my neck— ah, fuck—” your hand comes away from your nape soaked in red, “it’s bleeding.”

“it’s all right, you’ll be just fine. just get comfortable and i’m going to lift you up. think you can manage?”

you nod as one of diluc’s hands comes to rest under your knees, folding them and the other tenderly embraces your upper back.

“tell me if it hurts too much.”

he heaves the both of you up and the shock stings your exposed neck a little but you’ll survive.

everything is beginning to become blurry so you lift your hand to feel diluc and meet his chest. despite everything, you smile, aware he’s speaking because you can feel him vibrating but the words are all mushed up and you can feel yourself slipping away.

even though usually you would panic at feeling your consciousness fading but right now, it’s okay because it’s diluc who’s holding you and you know it’s him because just before the black collapses on you, you hear him.

“you’re fine, kitten.”

“—up! y/n, it’s me.”

mhhm, what a sweet voice. so soft and melodious.

“y/n, i can see you smiling in your sleep,” the voice comes closer, “come on, everyone’s really worried.”

the world materializes in front of you as you fight against the closing of your heavy eyelids. “barbara?”

“y/n! you’re alive!”

“i am?”

why would you not be alive?

…

oh

right

the eye

stupid thing

wait a minute,.,.,.

you remember diluc saving your arse.

oh righT

that’s because he did!

he—

he was holding you?

you were in his lap????????

wait a minute!! that sounds wrong

“am i dreaming?”

“really, of all the people you know, do you really see yourself dreaming of me, traveller? last time i saw you, you wanted to steal the holy lyre from—”

“y/n!!”

holy shit

that’s the voice of your saviour

noo

noo

stop the clock

you’re not ready to meet him!!!!!!!

“ah, it’s master diluc! he was so worried about you the whole time you were dead— i mean, asleep,” you redden as the tall man appears in front of you, “kaeya had to force him to leave and get some food but—”

“ahem!” diluc cuts barbara off with a strong clearing of his throat and she throws him a look before standing up from your side.

“i guess i’ll leave you two alone then!”

“wait, barbara, you should stay—”

and she’s gone.

you slowly look up to face diluc

“how are you feeling?”

“much better,” he sits next to you and you smile, “thanks to you.”

diluc frowns as if remembering something unpleasant, “i really wish you wouldn’t just bear all the load.”

“you found out from…”

“kaeya mentioned he hadn’t seen you around the town square as he usually does and when i went to speak with katheryne, she said she’d had no choice but to send you off on extra commissions.”

you look down, “i’m sorry. i wanted to ask someone to come along but everyone seemed busy and—”

“you never checked up on me though,” you bite your lip, “i would have known.”

“that’s- that’s because you’re always busy, what with the winery and your dark knight—”

“y/n,” you stop speaking with a pout and diluc raises your chin with his finger, “promise me you’ll tell someone next time things get so overwhelming. tell me, i’m never going to be occupied enough to not help you out.”

you blush agaiN

stupid kind diluc

“thanks, diluc.”

“and you can stop feeling sorry for me.”

when you look at diluc he looks he’s just caught you red-handed.

“what—”

“i wanted to help you,” you nod, “what’s more, i think i quite enjoyed it.”

“enjoyed. . . carrying an injured woman to safety? you might have a saviour complex, diluc. or perhaps, some sort of a kink.”

you expect diluc to lash back with a defensive retort but to your absolute and complete surprise, he smirks.

the man smiRKS

he’s all ;)

“oh? i won’t deny that,” your stomach suddenly feels queasy all over again as diluc inches closer (and you’re wondering in your head WHEN DID SATAN, OR WORSE KAEYA, POSSESS THIS MAN?!), “but while we’re on the topic of kinks and enjoying ourselves, you seemed to quite like sitting in my lap.”

“diluc!” your exclamation is one of disbelief because you cannot believe that diluc, the man who has never once made an inappropriate joke around you, is openly accepting that he has a kink and is accusing you of having one.

“what? am i wrong? when i tried to move, you stopped me immediately.”

“y-yeah, i did, but—” you’re trying with all your heart to defend your actions but diluc has managed to come close enough to tap his fingers against your outstretched knee. “it was— you were warm and my neCK was bleeding. was i supposed to just die out there?”

“i suppose you’re right, i am warm.”

“exactly.”

you seemed to have dodged a disaster because diluc is distracted by the cuts on your knee and the bandage around your ankle. his slender finger dance down your shin to touch the fabric of the white material tied tightly and he gently holds it.

“does it still hurt?”

“i don’t know, i haven’t tried walking.”

“do you wanna?”

you nod eagerly and diluc offers his hand but before you can be tempted into taking it, you cross your arms.

“why should i hold your hand?”

“because we need to first test if you can even walk without help.” diluc looks confused and you decide that whatever demon possessed him moments ago is long gone.

“correct answer,” you take his hand, and slowly stand up.

“hmm,” your right foot hurts a little but it’s better than you imagined. you tell diluc that.

“that’s a relief,” you reach the door of the empty cathedral and diluc puts his hand on the door, “would you like to take a walk?”

“is diluc around?”

“ah, he said he’ll be back in five. he’s personally delivering some paperwork to the acting headmaster.”

“alright, thanks!”

you’re excited!! it’s friday and today, you and diluc are going aLL the way to liyue to get dinner and stargaze as a post-dinner activity. diluc said he was friends with xiangling who’d always wanted him to come and try her dishes out sometime and he’d asked you earlier if you’d be interested to join him.

of course you were. it sounded like a date! in fact by the way you had spent all afternoon choosing the deep maroon skirt and contrasting white blouse, you were convinced to view it as a date.

“y/n, i apologize to have kept you waiting,” a breathless (and dashing) diluc appears by your side and you smile.

“no problem, diluc, i heard you were doing some important work.”

the both of you leave the tavern, “not exactly important, but let’s just say that while i may not be interested in the knights of favonius, i do value my life somewhat.”

“jean’s scares you, too, huh,” you laugh.

it’s not like diluc is realizing this for the first time but: you’re beautiful

like yeah, you have great hair and dazzling eyes that are bright when you’re happy and a dangerous smile but in the night, in this ethereal lighting, you’re taking his breath away.

“this place looks so fancy,” you’re seated across from him as you play with the ends of your hair. “when i come to this inn, i usually remain on the periphery but wow, this is quite impressive.”

“well, xiangling did say she got pretty famous as a cook around here.” diluc feels dazed especially since half his attention is occupied by how adorable you look.

the night progresses like this; diluc captivated by your blinding beauty and you trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’re on a daTE with diluc.

“oh, hey, look, it’s a silk flower!” you run over to the short, maroon plant, plucking a few flowers out, “xingqiu was telling me how much he loves these.”

he kneels next to you, smiling, “they are quite the pleasant plants.”

“they sorta remind me of you.”

“me?”

diluc touches the stem as you play around with the buds, “yes. for starters, you’re both red. and you both smell nice. you make wine, these make clothes. and if you think about it, wine is the silk of alcohol.”

his fingers collide against yours in the quaint flower, “that’s an intriguing comparison. wine and silk. . .” before you can pull away, diluc takes hold of your hand, pulling you up after him.

he can feel you stiffen a little and then mold back into place, your tiny hand squeezing against his bigger one. the road has become quieter as you travel further from the inn, and more stars start to peek out from the sky.

“thank you for taking me out to dinner, diluc.”

“thank you for having dinner with me, y/n.”

you suddenly giggle a little as if remembering a memory. “what’s funny?”

you look at him and then back down, biting down on your lip — a terrible habit really but especially terrible right now, because it only draws his attention to the soft pink lips he was trying not to look at the whole night (which was made even harder when xiangling decided to serve you the spicier dishes).

“that time you saved me from the eye, you called me something right before i fainted.”

diluc smiles fondly, “kitten?” he is pleasantly surprised when you giggle again, cheeks tinting the loveliest pink. “what’s this? could it be you enjoy being called kitten?”

you squeeze his hand slightly, “maybe…”

diluc’s heart almost gives out on spot

he’s sO whipped for you it hurts physically

“y/n—”

before he can say anything else, you pull him ahead with you because well,,,, you’re embarrassed

“come on, we should go stargaze before it gets too late.”

diluc smiles and allows you to drag him to the clearing at the edge of a cliff.

“i remembered this cliff from one of my adventures,” you plop down onto the grass and hesitantly, diluc follows

“hmm, it’s very peaceful here. i’m going to have to note this down as one of my future hideouts.”

you grin, “don’t reveal that to me. i might end up following you here and you won’t have any of your good ole introspection time.”

your tone is teasing but for once, diluc feels that his needs for alone time are being acknowledged by your light-hearted threat. he shifts closer, heart on the verge of bursting.

“i like you, y/n,” it comes right out of his mouth, clear and loud, the way diluc always dreamed of confessing but never managed to nail during his endless practices

you, on the other hand, are at the risk of a heart attack. you don’t want to pretend to be clueless and dense — diluc did ask you out for dinner when he could be spending the evening doing something more intellectually enriching — but at the same time, you feel like you can’t be sure enough

because it’s diluc!! he’s so complicated, he has so many layers

“you like me?” you keep your gazed fixed on the stars above just so you can mask your disappointment in case he clarifies that he likes you but, of course, as a friend who easily gets in trouble and happens to be around his tavern all the time

but inside diluc’s head are alarms. literal ALARMS. red, blaring alarms.

“i- you have no obligation to accept my feelings or give me answer but i’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time now. i really like you in a way i didn’t think possible. you’re so kind and funny and you make profound judgements about people, without being swayed by the biases that surround them and you’re so brave. but i know you have many men courting you and you did seem to have a soft spot for kaeya so this is—”

“i like you, too, diluc.”

diluc.exe has stopped working part 2 the finale

no more brain cells for him

“diluc?”

“you’re being honest?”

“of course i am. i’ve liked you ever since you took down that abyss mage with me. i don’t know how i’m expected to not fall for the dark knight hero.”

despite his dislike for the nickname, diluc blushes and you laugh at his small adorable smile

but the next moment it’s as if a switch has been flipped and suddenly his flustered face turns into a look of lust

his hands are on your waist, pulling you close until you can feel his hot breath against your lips

your hand comes up his face, tenderly cupping it and your lips crash

diluc groans against your lips when your other hand gingerly finds his hair and to say the least, you are extremely attracted to the sound of him groaning, low and deep

“come closer,” your plea is almost petulant as your grip on his hair tightens. diluc lifts you into his lap, arms around you

but he suddenly pulls away and it kills him to do so because you are a sight to behold, lips redder than ever, mouth half open, and breath heavy

“what in the fuck—” your dismay is clear as you frown at the concerned expression on diluc’s face, “hey, what’s wrong? did i—”

“why did you give kaeya that gift?”

for a moment you think you must be dreaming because it would be absolutely ridiculous if the man stopped your make-out session just to ask you—

“i mean, why not… me?” diluc’s voice has become small, gaze averted as if he’s scared he messed up

you sigh, bringing both your hands to cup his face, squishing his cheeks slightly to make him look at you

“listen, diluc, i have no feelings for kaeya. he’s just one of my nicer superiors and i wanted to thank him for being understanding. and i meant what i said that day — it genuinely reminded me of how he’s stuck around the favonius headquarters.”

diluc processes what you have to say and then, after a few silent beats:

“he’s only nice to you because he’s into you.”

“diluc, will you please just make out with me?”

you pull him back into a kiss and this time, he returns with more passion, one hand boldly cupping your ass and you can’t help but shiver at the sensation of his warm hand

you begin to reach under his shirt when you realize something

“wait, diluc,” you sit up, twisting to look up at the sky, “we were supposed to stargaze. you seemed so excited about it, you even called it the post-dinner activity.”

diluc caresses your arm as he slowly restores the distance between you, eyes on your lips.

he whispers against the nape of your neck, “i’m sure we can think of another post-dinner activity,” his fingers graze your stomach, “right, kitten?”

[super-unpredictable98]

Exposure Therapy | The Road Within AU

Chapter 5: Getting to 7-Eleven

Warning: Strong language, depiction of mental illness (including tics), smut

(Exposure Therapy Masterlist)

"Good morning, sweetheart," Vincent came into the room holding a tray with a full breakfast: toast with Nutella, eggs, pancakes, berries, juice.

"Hey, baby," I stretched with a smile. "What's all that for?"

"Well, since you're going back tomorrow, I just thought FUCKING WHORE that I would plan a special day for us."

"Shit, is it tomorrow?" my heart felt heavy as soon as those words left his mouth.

"Dr. Rose said eight weeks, so I'm afraid so... Ha!" Vincent shoved his finger in the Nutella and spread it on my lips.

"Oh, God..." I laughed, licking it up.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he chuckled.

I decided to challenge myself and take a sip of the juice, I have never been a fan of drinks with solid bits, it freaks me out, but it didn't seem so bad with Vincent holding my hand and looking at me with those sweet eyes.

"Wow! Straight for the juice? I didn't expect that!" he cheered. "Do you like it?"

"I'm not crazy about the pulp, but it tastes good."

"I'll take it," he kissed the back of my hand, taking a handful of berries from the bowl. "So, can you guess what we're doing today?"

"Does it require a condom? Or two? Or three?" I suggestively licked my spoon.

"That'll have to wait until after our romantic dinner tonight, today I'm teaching you how to swim," he grinned.

"You really think I can do it?"

"I'm sure you can."

"How did you learn how to swim anyway? What if you tick while you're underwater and drown?" I teased.

"Ableist much?"

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I'm just kidding, sweetheart," he kissed my forehead. "When I focus on something, I don't get as many tics. You know that right? When we're doing stuff I almost never have them."

I didn't wanna go back to the clinic, or my mom's house. Somewhere along the way I simply forgot I wasn't there to stay, I started sleeping with Vincent in his room, we all divided the chores equally... That became my home in such a short period of time, I didn't want this to change, God knows how horrible I am with changes.

Turns out Dr. Rose was right, that's exactly what I needed to improve my life skills. I was able to get over countless fears, learn to manage my anxiety, and interact with people better, no medication or therapy would have the same results.

Maybe our brain just fixes itself sometimes, if we're given the opportunity and the right environment. I didn't wanna go back to the place I was before, what if my brain goes back to being broken again?

"You're thinking so loud, I can hear it from here," Vincent teased as we walked to the beach. "What's wrong?"

"I don't wanna leave."

"And I don't want you to, but it's for your own good. You're gonna get better and then we can finally be together for good," he flinched and hit his own forehead.

"What if when I go back you fall in love with someone else? What if you forget about me?"

"That's impossible, don't be A FUCKING IDIOT!"

"I'll try not to..."

"You know that was a tic, stop that," he laughed, even though his tics were progressively getting worse, maybe he was nervous about me leaving.

"I know, I'm just messing with you," I took my shirt off once we reached the sand, I was kinda tired of only wearing mom's 'slimming one-pieces' so I got myself a bikini, like the ones I used to wear back in high school, when things weren't as bad.

"Oh my God! When did you get this?" he gaped at me. I chose a black bikini with orange flames all over it.

"I bought it yesterday while we were at the mall, do you like it?" I covered my stomach, scared of his response even though he had seen me naked plenty of times and he seemed to like it.

"I love it! You look so beautiful!"

"You really think so?"

"Fat-bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round."

"Vincent!"

"Sorry! You do make my world go round," he murmured, wrapping his arms around my middle. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, but don't let go of me, okay?"

"Don't worry," he took my hand firmly, whistling and jerking. "I won't."

Of course I was terrified, but being with Vince gave me some weird courage I didn't even know I had. I didn't have time to worry about the things I was scared of when he was holding my hand, and even if something bad did happen, I knew he was there to save the day.

"For someone who was afraid of the ocean, you seem to like it," he watched as I let the water swallow me, swaying me with the slow movement of the tide.

"Only when I'm with you."

"I must be really lucky then, I get to see you like this."

That was probably one of the sweetest things I've ever heard, I looked up at him for a moment before pressing my lips to his. The fact that he thought he was the lucky one still left me completely dumbfounded. His hands slid down to my ass and he flinched, too excited to stop himself.

"Uh, swimming," he pulled back breathlessly, trying not to get too distracted.

"But what we were doing was so much better," I tried reaching for him again.

"I know, but we'll have plenty of time for that when we're back home, we can- fuck!" he yelped and I laughed. "That's not what I was gonna say, I was gonna say take a shower together."

"Same thing..."

"Well, shower sounds more romantic," he blushed. "Then we can make out until dinner time and have a special candlelit picnic. I want your last night to be perfect."

"Okay, maybe I can wait a little longer, but not too long."

"That's okay, you'll be swimming in no time," he lowered me to my back by surprise. I was startled and my heart was racing, but it did feel good to be in his arms like that. "See? You're already floating."

"Just because you're holding me."

"If I let go you'll keep floating, I'm just holding you so the tide doesn't take you away. Can you kick for me?"

"Like this?" I moved my legs up and down like a mermaid.

"Kinda, alternate your legs, that's what's gonna make you move," he explained. "Keeping your lungs full of air will make it harder for you to sink... Mona's a fucking dickhead!"

I smiled at him, and he rolled his eyes, I could get used to being called a dickhead by him for the rest of my life... I started kicking as he said, it was harder than it seemed, but I managed to do it anyway.

"Don't let go, okay?"

"Don't worry, babe, I'm right here. Let's turn around, okay? So you'll be on your stomach."

"Yeah, I think I can do that, how do I-"

"VINCENT! RAMONA!" Alex's thick British accent got our attention, he was standing on the sand (something I never imagined he would do) and trying to avoid the waves. "Come back home!"

"What? Why?" Vince asked with a frown.

"Your mother is here, Mona," Alex looked down, he seemed almost disappointed.

I nearly drowned, but Vincent held me. I felt like I was gonna be sick, our plans of swimming, fooling around, having our special dinner, cuddling before bed... It was all ruined because my mom decided to show up.

Typical of her, by the way. My mom wasn't a bad person at all, but she could be overbearing and sometimes borderline abusive without even realizing it. She treated me like I was 3, she thought I was still a little girl with a child mentality, I don't think she'll ever see me differently.

"I thought she was only supposed to come tomorrow," Vince managed to say through a chain of whistles and insults. I imagine he wasn't expecting to meet his girlfriend's mom at that moment, of course he was nervous.

"She was, but I should've known, Vanessa never fails to make me feel re- stupid."

"Does she know we're together?" he asked as we neared the house.

"Not really..."

"Ramona!" she hopped off her car and took me in her arms. "You're wearing a bikini? But I bought you those swimsuits, they fit you better."

"To hide her fat pussy," Vincent blurted out and covered his mouth immediately.

"Excuse me?" mom gave him a nasty look.

"I'm sorry, I'm Vincent Rhodes," he put his hand out. "You fucking cunty whore! I have Tourette's, I don't mean it."

"Tourette's?" she grimaced.

"Yeah, it means he has tics," I rolled my eyes as I explained. "He does and says things he has no control over."

"Oh, I see," she shook his hand. "I'm Vanessa, it's nice to meet you," she said slowly as if he couldn't understand her otherwise.

"Nice to meet you too... COCKBLOCK cockblock," he shook his head as he said it.

"Vanessa, would you like some tea while they shower and get dressed?" Alex offered. "Just take your shoes off before coming inside, please."

"Yeah, thank you, young man," she squished my cheeks once again and slapped my stomach before following him inside. She would always do that to warn me, so I could suck it in.

"Wow, your mom is..." Vince mumbled.

"I know, she thinks I'm brain dead or something. I'm sorry, I'm so embarrassed."

"Hey, it's okay, we'll take our shower together and you'll feel better, Alex can distract her for a little bit," he draped one arm around me. "Don't let that ruin our day."

I looked at him, he still had that gorgeous smile on, how could I be upset when he was smiling at me like that? We ran inside and climbed the stairs in a hurry to get to the bathroom.

"You're so dirty," I whispered, giggling as he turned the water on.

"Me?" he howled like a wolf and grinned. "I'm not the one asking for sex since I woke up."

"It's not my fault if you got me addicted," I teased while taking my bikini off to join him.

I was barely able to wash myself before Vincent had me pinned against the wall, kissing my neck as the warm water kissed our skin, his erection pressed against my thigh, and he relaxed. He didn't twitch, or flinch, or yelp, he just kissed me and touched me everywhere I wanted to get touched.

"I love you, Mona," he breathed before our lips crashed, causing fireworks inside of me.

"I love you too," I gasped softly as he filled me, holding my wrists above my head while hiking my thigh around his waist with the other hand.

"You like that? Is this good?"

"This is perfect," I sighed, allowing myself to forget all that drama, my mom, the clinic, our problems, everything just faded away. All I knew was the warmth of the water, the sound of the shower running, and the pleasure of Vincent making love to me.

"You look so sexy like this," he groaned, leaning closer to me until our foreheads were touching. I usually hated looking people in the eye, but his eyes were the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen, it was impossible not to look at them. "I can't wait to make you mine for good."

"I'm already yours, Vince," I moaned quietly.

"You promise? Promise you're mine and you'll wait for me?"

"I've waited until now, what's a few more months? Will you wait for me?"

"As long as I have to, forever if you ask."

"I'm getting close, Vince."

"Me too, go ahead," he finally let my arms down and I held him close as we came nearly at the same time. "See? I told you I would make it perfect for you, I'm gonna-"

"Ramona!" my mom's voice echoed around the bathroom and Alex came right behind, trying to stop her from getting to the door, but it was too late.

"Jesus, mom! Can't you fucking knock?" I snapped, I was so tired of her treating me like I was a child, of making me scared to create connections with people, she made me afraid of living, I would never forgive her for that. I know her intentions were not bad, but if you raise a little bird making it believe it can't fly, or that flying is too dangerous, it never will.

"Oh, Lord," Alex turned around, disgusted with the view.

"What is happening here?" mom folded her arms, tapping her foot angrily.

"Cock and ball torture," Vincent squealed and I nearly lost it, even now I'm not sure if that was a tic or just him trying to make me laugh.

"Can you get the fuck away, please? And wait outside? We're coming out."

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself with a towel, I didn't even have the nerve to look my boyfriend in the eye. I should've known something like this was gonna happen, I shouldn't have said yes to him, knowing how things are and will always be for me.

"Hey, are you okay, baby?" he came up behind me.

"No, she ruined my day, she's embarrassing me in front of you, she's taking me back to that clinic, I don't wanna go," my voice cracked and I couldn't hold back my tears.

"I know," he held me against his chest. "Don't worry about me, I embarrass myself all the time, I know it's not your fault. And we'll be back together in no time. Soon I'm gonna graduate, get a proper job, and you can go back to acting."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Why not? You're really talented, I'm almost done with school, we can move in together for real, you'll get to meet my dad and his wife, we can get a dog," Vince mused. "I've always wanted a dog."

"Are you sure you love me? Even with my mom and all the shit that comes with loving me?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Why don't you wait for me in your room? I'll deal with my mom and I'll be there in a second to say goodbye."

"We won't be saying goodbye, we'll be saying see you later," he kissed me gently on the cheek. "Are you sure you wanna do this on your own?"

"Yeah, I have to."

——————————————————

"Let's go, Ramona, back to the clinic, this was clearly a horrible idea," mom was packing up my stuff in the guest room. "Actually I'm checking you out of the clinic, I should be the one taking care of you. Dr. Rose doesn't know what she's doing, she doesn't know you."

"Mom! Can you stop for a second and listen to me?"

"Listen to what?"

"That I'm happy! That for the first time in my life I don't feel like a weirdo, I feel like I belong, I feel loved."

"You're basically a child, what are you doing with that man?"

"I'm not a child, I'm a woman! I'm autistic, that's not the same as being a child. I am different from other people, so is Vincent, so is Alex, so is everyone! I changed my meds, I feel better physically and mentally, I have a purpose, I'm not anxious all the time, I'm happy. With my boyfriend."

"Boyfri- Honey, that's dangerous, how can you trust him? How do you know he's not gonna hurt you?"

"I don't, but so far he has done nothing to hurt me, he makes me feel good about myself and he makes me a better person. One day he might hurt me and it'll suck, but that won't erase all the good he did to me before. I love him, mom, please be happy for me."

"Does he really make you happy?"

"More than anything."

"Go say goodbye to him, we'll talk on the way back."

I quietly got dressed and went looking for Vincent. He was sitting on his bed, waiting like I asked, both hands caught between his knees, the way his face lit up when he saw me, brought tears to my eyes.

"I forgot how to sleep without you," I sat on his lap, resting my head on his shoulder.

"You won't have to, I wanna give you this," he handed me his blue windbreaker. "If you put it on before bed, you can feel like I'm there."

"Are you sure?"

"It won't fit! Yeah, this way you know I'm thinking about you," he sobbed quietly. "I wish I didn't hurt your feelings with my tics."

"You don't, I know it's not you."

"Are you leaving already? Do you need help fuck packing?"

"My mom already did it," I took a deep breath, trying to memorize the way he smells. "I have to go."

"Don't worry, okay? I'll be there as soon as possible to pick you up, and I promise we'll never have to be apart again. Unless you want to."

"Why would I want that? I love you."

"I love you too, don't forget to eat," he said without thinking as we made our way to the door.

"I won't."

"Don't cry, it'll be over before you know it," Alex gave me a hug, something he almost never does, so I guess that really meant something.

"Goodb- I'll see you soon," I held Vincent one last time, pressing my lips to his with all the love I had in my heart.

"See you soon, sweetie."

The sun was setting as my mom drove off, I felt like part of me was staying behind, something I couldn't reach or make sense of. I only stopped crying to sleep, and thank God I did... When I finally fell asleep, I was able to meet Vincent again.

——————————————————

"Dr. Rose, you can't tell me the treatment worked if my daughter is significantly worse," mom argued as we sat on the couch, in her office.

"Well, it seems to me like the only thing making Ramona depressed over the last month and a half is being away from Vincent. I checked with the boys, seems like when she was there she was eating properly, exercising, engaging with others socially, facing challenges she would never be able to face here, she only used her SOS medication once. That is a significant improvement," Dr. Rose explained.

"I can't see any," mom looked at me, worried.

"We have great results with exposure therapy, Ms. Wilson," she continued. "What we didn't count on is that she would get involved with Vincent, but from what both of them reported to me, they have a very healthy relationship. Even though she misses him, which is inevitable, they are young and in love, she's still much better now than she was when she checked in. Her anxiety episodes are getting less frequent, she's managing her emotions, her boyfriend also experienced improvements in his condition, she's looking into going back to work, she's doing great. I don't see any reason to keep her here anymore."

"She has to stay until she's cured."

"If that was really the case, she would have to stay here for the rest of her life. Autism has no cure, neither does generalized anxiety disorder, and that's not what we're interested in. What we're aiming for is giving Ramona the best quality of life she can possibly have. That's what we'll have with therapy, which she will keep doing, and medication, which she will keep taking. Staying in a clinic will only make her miserable right now, she doesn't need it. Ramona won't ever be like 'everyone else', she won't ever get rid of her symptoms completely, but at the point where she is right now, she can live a happy life on her own."

"Ramona, do you really think you're ready to check out?" mom turned to me.

"Yeah, I'm completely sure."

"Fine then, I'm taking you home."

"No," I huffed a laugh. "I'm not leaving with you."

"Hey, Dr. Rose?" Vincent knocked before opening the door. "Can I- cunt! Can I come in?"

"Vince!" I jumped and ran into his arms, he reciprocated my enthusiasm, kissing me everywhere he could reach.

"Mona, I missed you so much!"

"Not more than I missed you."

"Is everything okay? Why did Dr. Rose call?"

"Because Ramona is checking out today," she grinned. "And I thought you might want to be here."

"Checking out? FUCK!" he twitched violently and held me close. "That's amazing! We can be together for good now?"

"You're not coming with me?" mom took my hand.

"No, I'm sorry," I sighed. "I think it's time I go to 7-Eleven for once. You know where I am, you can visit whenever you want, you can call, I'll be okay."

"I love you, baby," she kissed the back of my hands with tears in her eyes, I couldn't tell if she was sad or proud.

"I love you too, mom," I mumbled as I signed my own discharge papers.

"So? Let's go home? Alex is waiting in the car, we have a looong road ahead of us."

"Yeah, let's go home."

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @spanishmossmagnolia @a-ghoulish-tale @seanfalco @salvador-daley @badsext

[honeymoonjin]

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always) 

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing  two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

--

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {3}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Tease, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 7.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | 

Chapter Three

-Y/N-

When you opened your eyes again, your head felt a lot different. It wasn’t spinning. It didn’t feel congested, heavy, or muddled. You saw everything with clear eyes, alert eyes. Glancing around the room, you took in your surroundings like it was your first time, though you were sure it wasn’t. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember everything that had happened. You remembered walking through the streets, taking pictures, and even watching the locals go about their business. You also remembered going into a bar and drinking that god awful drink.

 When you remembered seeing Henry’s face, you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversation played over and over in your head and how easy it was to talk to one another. Even his smile and goofy laugh had you snuggling deeper into the plush bedding. He was definitely attractive. All of a sudden, the accident flashed into mind. You’d been struggling with the wind and the snow and couldn’t see not even two inches in front of you. The pain of being hit was absent. It was like it happened so fast that you were out cold before your pain receptors could adequately translate it.

 You bolted up as the words “prince” and “your highness” echoed in your head.

 “Shit, he’s a prince.”

You rubbed your forehead, then pinched the bridge of your nose. Of course he is, you thought. Why would you meet some normal person in this clear fairytale country? Leaning against the headboard, you chewed your bottom lip, beginning to wonder about several other things. One of them was your exchange in the bar. He clearly knew who he was. You were not naïve when it came to the attention of men. There was evident flirting going on.

 “Was he trying to charm me into being some royal conquest?”

 Before you could think on the topic any further, there was a knock at the door. You sat up straighter while trying to figure out the right way to sit. You lied back casually but decided that was too casual. You then straightened your back and took note of how your breasts were accentuated thanks to the proper posture.

 “Too much,” you whispered, slouching again.

 The knock came again.

 “Ma’am?”

 Shaking your head, you sighed and said, forget it. You had no idea how to answer, so you said the first thing to come to mind.

 “You may enter.” You didn’t know why you decided to add an uppity British accent. Slapping your hand to your head, you shook it, already tired of your own shenanigans.

When you looked, it was the doctor you’d seen the night before.

 “Good morning, ma’am.”

 You gave him a polite smile as he approached with his black doctor’s bag.

 “How are you feeling today. Better, I hope.”

 “Much, thank you.”

 He nodded, then placed his bag on the bedside table.

 “How did you sleep? Any pain?”

 “No—well, not severe pain. I’m just mainly sore.”

 Dr. Alfonsi. nodded. “You can take aspirin for those aches. They should subside in another few days, as will the bruises.”

 You nodded again.

 “May I begin my examination?”

 Giving him a demure smile as permission, he approached and began doing all the things a doctor would at the beginning of any appointment. He took your blood pressure, checked your reflexes and your temperature. He examined your eyes, listened to your heart, followed along with your pulse and respiration, all the while taking diligent notes on his phone that he held in the breast pocket of his white coat.

 Ten or so minutes later, he closed his bag and then brought over one of the chairs in the room. Once he sat, he softly clapped his hands together.

 “And that is that. I am pleased your vitals are appearing better and better. Are you feeling the return of your strength?”

 “Not really,” you confessed.

 “As I explained yesterday, I had concerns from the results of a few blood tests I did. Did you know that you have several vitamin deficiencies?”

 Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh—n—no. I didn’t. What do you mean?”

 “Well, in an effort to provide a most comprehensive recovery plan for you, as I do with every patient I see in the royal family and elsewhere. I ran a full panel of tests and came back with several alarming finds. You have a deficiency of vitamin B12, Vitamins D, and E, you’re severely low in Iron and Folate. Have you ever been diagnosed with Anemia?”

 Your head swarmed with all the words and letters he’d just flung at you.

 “Uh—no. I don’t think so.”

 “I am diagnosing it now.”

 You watched his mouth move as he explained the dangers of the deficiencies and listed the symptoms one would expect, which all coincided with what you’d felt on and off for some time. The explanation seemed to go on and on. With every word Dr. Alfonsi. spoke, your breathing sped more and more. He must have seen the terror on your face because he reached out and took your hand.

 “It’s all right, dear. Though it is not as soon as I would have liked, we caught it. we now know that there is a serious problem.”

 “I—I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I’ve been busy these last few months and on the go, but—I never--,” you trailed off.

 “Calm down. It’s easy to fall behind on our health, but it is important we catch up. In order to do that, you’re going to have to make some changes.”

 “What kind of changes?”

 “Lifestyle and occupational. You’re going to need to change your diet, incorporate the therapies and medicines I will be prescribing, as well as taking it significantly easier than I suspect you have in the past,” Dr. Alfonsi explained.

 “Taking it easy? What exactly does that mean?”

 “Well, I mild cases I’ve seen in my years, I’ve recommended a month of strict relaxation along with what I’ve said before. That meant decreased hours at work, perhaps a sabbatical, bed rest until the patient begins to regain strength to prevent chances of falling and bone breakage.”

 “Bed rest?”

 “Yes, and that’s just for mild cases. Your case, I’m afraid, is a lot more serious. While I recommended it for others, for you, I would have to insist.”

 You sat up, giving him a look that said he was crazy.

 “I can’t go on bed rest. That’s not just decreased hours; that is complete incapacitation,” you protested.

 “I can understand your alarm, but that is how serious your situation is, ma’am.”

 “God, please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Xari.”

 “Ms. Xari,” he corrected.

 Several moments passed in silence. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, you hadn’t gone to the doctor in almost two years and didn’t take multivitamins and oftentimes forgot to eat, but you worked out, ate your greens—sometimes, and experienced plenty of holistic activities throughout the world. You had no idea you were in this bad shape.

 “Do you understand what I am saying, Ms. Xari? If you do not make drastic changes for the foreseeable future, you may not see the blooming of spring flowers.”

 Your jaw dropped. He was laying on pretty thick, but it was working. You were alarmed. Sighing, you rubbed your forehead.

 “What exactly do you suggest then?”

 “What you’re doing now, bed rest. I will communicate with the staff your dietary needs for the coming weeks as well as instructions for your medication--.”

 “Wait, hold up. What? You don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked at you as if you were missing a few screws.

 “Yes.”

You flung your hands out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I can’t stay here.”

 “Why not? I am more than sure the prince would allow you to remain here until you are fully recovered, especially seeing it was his highness’ royal car that hit you for us to discover your ailments.”

 “No. I can’t stay here. I don’t—I’m a stranger to these people. I am—there’s no way. I can’t ask him or anyone here to wait on me.”

 Dr. Alfonsi smiled. “I understand your apprehension, believe me, I do, but it is unnecessary. I have known the prince since he was a child. He is a kind man and would never dare turn someone who is in need and sick away. You will be safe here.”

 Hearing how highly he spoke of his prince piqued your curiosity. It could have been one of those things where one’s subjects loved them so dearly they had not one bad word to say about them, or one’s subjects fears them so much that they didn’t dare utter one negative thing about them. You wondered which was the real story. Perhaps a little in the middle, you thought.

 Sighing, you leaned your head on the headboard, still adamant you didn’t want to stay here.

 “I have a life to get back to. I’ve already been here for two days too long.”

 “Two days?”

 The question in his voice had your head snapping to him. You cautiously opened your mouth to speak. “Yes,” you squeaked.

 “No. I’m afraid it’s been more than two days. It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Ms. Xari.”

��Your eyes bugged, and you instantly began searching for your phone.

 “What are you looking for?”

 “My things. Where are my things? My phone?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked around the room then walked to a large wardrobe before he came back with your purse. You unintentionally snatched it from him, digging through it for the desired object. Once you had it, you discovered it was dead.

 “Fuck.”

 You began trying to get off the bed, but as soon as you stood, you dropped back to the bed, your legs unable to hold you.

 “I would caution against doing too much too soon. I’m impressed you were able to attempt an escape once. I doubt you’d be successful a second time.”

 “I need my charger. Where are my things? I’ve been off the grid for a week. I have family, people who will worry. I need—need--.”

 Your chest pounded so fast you could barely catch your breath. As you struggled to get a full breath, you began to panic. Dr. Alfonsi was to you on the other side of the bed in seconds, checking your pulse and instructing you to breathe slowly and deeply. You would if you could and wished you could shout that to him. Before you knew it, darkness was all you saw.

 ~~~~~~~~

When you opened your eyes, you were again tucked in the bed, but you were now hooked up to an IV. You took a deep breath and noted the heaviness that resided in your chest. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Once rested against the headboard, you remembered your mission. Your phone. Kicking off the covers, you used the rolling IV rod as if it were a cane and stood on wobbly legs. After a full minute, you began moving though every step you took felt like you’d fall to the floor.

 What should have taken you seconds took minutes. The steps proved to be more challenging to maneuver with the IV stand. You searched the room, but you didn’t see your luggage. That was when you saw your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand to the left of the bed. You wobbled toward it then quickly unlocked it. Feeling yourself shake even more, you used the wall as your brace as you scrolled through. You saw the bounty of missed calls, unanswered messages, and emails of alarm. As expected, everyone was worried to death about you.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You found your sister’s number and dialed it. It didn’t ring; instead, it went to voicemail. Your frustration was evident as you knocked over the small glass figurine on the bedside table. You ignored the shattered pieces and grabbed the IV pole, ready to walk out of the room in search of your things. Once you opened the door, your jaw dropped, seeing another luxurious room similar to the bedroom but decked in different colors.

 You took one then two steps, and your knees gave out. Before you tumbled to the floor, you heard a shriek and your name being shouted; then you were in someone’s arms. You looked up into blue eyes that were framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows.

 “Are you all right?”

 You snorted. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” you teased with a soft smile. It was a smile Henry returned.

“I cannot make any promises.”

 Henry then lifted you into his strong arms and carried you where you’d just come from. As he held you, you couldn’t help but glance over the side of his face that was perfectly in view. If you thought his jaw was chiseled to perfection before, now—you were certain there was not even one flaw about it. When he placed you back in the bed, he hovered over you for a few seconds. They were seconds that felt like minutes, especially with the intensity you saw in his eyes.

 “Xari.”

 Tearing your eyes from his, you glanced to your left to see Anika, your sister.

 “Nika!”

 She leaped onto the bed and scurried across to you, then threw her arms around you.

 “Oh my god. What’re you doing here!? How’d you get here?”

 “I’ve been so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 Relief filled you, and you found yourself relaxing a little more.

 “I don’t get it. How are you?”

 Anika pulled back with a wide smile on her face. She looked up, bringing your eyes to the man who still stood beside the bed. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a soft smile decorated his lips.

 “Him. He’s how I’m here.”

 You were still confused, and you knew your expression showed it.

 “I couldn’t reach you. I called and called and no answer. A few days ago, I got a call back, and it was the prince,” Anika began giving you a wide-eyed look when she said, “prince.”

 “Henry, please, I insist.”

 Anika smiled and actually giggled before she continued. “Henry. He explained everything and kept me in the loop with your condition. Because of that damn storm, I couldn’t get here. He ended up sending the royal jet for me once the storm passed enough to bring me here, so you’d have someone with you.”

 Wow, you thought, letting all she’d said register. He’d done a lot. You slipped your eyes to him and found them on you.

 “He’s been very kind, Ri,” Anika added.

 You were speechless. What were you supposed to say? Clearing your throat, you said the first thing you thought of.

 “Thank you.”

 Henry nodded and held your gaze. “It was done for you alone and with you in mind.”

 Well, shit, you thought, unable to take your eyes off of his. After a few moments, you heard Anika clear her throat, and it was Henry who looked away first.

 “Right. I was bringing your sister here for you to see. Now that you have her, I will give the staff instructions to see whatever the two of you will need for your stay.”

 “Uh—about that. It won’t be necessary,” you piped up.

 “Excuse me?”

 His intimidating aura increased, making you feel like a disobedient little whose daddy was about to punish her. At that comparison, you had a quick thought about whether or not he was a vanilla prince or one with plenty of shades of grey. Straightening your back, you held your head higher.

 “While I appreciate all you’ve done for me thus far, it won’t be necessary for you or your staff to fuss over my sister or me any longer. We’ll be leaving.”

 Henry cocked his head to the right, then tightly clenched his jaw.

 “Is that right?”

 “Why are we leaving?”

 Ignoring Anika’s question, you decided not to look away from Henry feeling a challenge in how he looked at you.

 “According to Dr. Alfonsi, you’re in no shape to be going anywhere.” He nodded to your IV pole for emphasis.

 “I will stay at the inn that is in town or a hotel.”

 “Nonsense. It was my fault you were hurt, and my responsibility to rectify the damage and harm I have caused.”

 “He’s right, Xari. It’s his fault, and you should let him accrue the expenses,” Anika voiced.

 “Nika!”

 “What! He’s a prince, Ri. He got it,” she replied a little under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear.

 “I must agree with Lady Anika.”

 Anika snorted and laughed. “I’m definitely not a lady.”

 Henry smirked at her then quickly looked back to you. “I must insist you remain here. At least until Dr. Alfonsi has given you the seal of good health. I am afraid if you were to go anywhere, something would happen to you, and I would not be able to forgive myself.”

 You studied him for a few moments, taking in the expression on his face as well as the tight clench of his jaws. Your eyes moved down to his still folded arms and the muscles that bulged because of his stance. He was definitely overwhelming like this, and though you hated to feel like a bother, you suspected that here was the best place for now. Glancing to Anika, she gave you a stern eye that said, “just give in already.”

 Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Fine, but only until I’m well enough.”

 “If that is your wish, just know you are welcomed here for however long you wish.”

 “My goodness, such a gentleman. They sure breed them differently here, huh sis.”

 Henry smiled, then glanced at Anika. “Everything is different here in Brexendor.”

 “I bet,” Anika finished.

 “Since it is settled, I will proceed to advise the staff. Dr. Alfonsi has already given several strict dietary orders as well as health orders. If there is anything you require do not hesitate to speak it. Lady Anika, I have already instructed a bedroom be prepared for you, but I will instruct it be as close to your sister as possible.”

 “Thank you.”

 He nodded, then looked back at you. “I sincerely hope you feel better soon.”

 “Are you leaving?”

 “Unfortunately, yes. I am afraid I have quite a lot to do today. By all means, though, feel free to go where you please. My home is yours, ladies.”

 With that, he curtly bowed his head then walked toward the door. Before he walked out, he stopped.

 “Oh, Xari, try not to escape again. I cannot guarantee I will always be there to catch you.”

 You saw the hint of a smile on his lips and instantly knew he was teasing you.

 “Somehow, your highness, I suspect you will magically appear at the mere hint of a faint.”

 He chuckled to himself then walked out, closing the doors behind him. Once alone, Anika wasted no time.

 “Holy fucking shit, he is hot as fuck!”

 You snorted and laughed as you relaxed into the bed.

 “Wonderful censor you have there, Nika.”

 “Fuck censor.”

 “Well, that last time I said fuck here, I was looked at like I was the most uncouth Neanderthal. I suggest you keep your fucks to a minimum.”

 Anika bounced you. “Will you be able to keep your fucks to a minimum?”

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 Anika rolled her eyes. “Whatever! The air hasn’t even gotten a chance to come back down from the sweltering levels your guys’ flirting raised it to.”

 Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me! There was no flirting.”

 “Yes, there was, and it was not on your side alone. He was flirting with you too. What in the world is going on? I need the whole story without even the smallest detail left out.”

 You sighed then proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale. As instructed, you didn’t leave anything out. You even told her about that exchange between you and Henry before you walked out of the bar. At the end of story time, Anika had a huge grin on her face.

 “What are you grinning at?”

 “You. Leave it to you to get whisked away by a prince and have him fall; for you in record time.”

 “No, no, no. Falling? Nika, you’re imagining things. He hasn’t fallen for anyone. He’s a prince, for crying out loud. They don’t fall for anyone, let alone some commoner. Have you never watched The Crown?”

 Anika snorted and dropped to the bed at your feet.

 “First of all, The Crown is whack. Second of all, this is not England. This place is fantastic. It’s like some Hallmark country where everything is beautiful, quaint, and perfect. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, agreeing fully.

 “Third, I was sitting right here, listening to your banter. I think he could totally fall for you if he hasn’t already.”

 You rolled your eyes, ignoring everything she was saying. Anika loved to play matchmaker, though you hated every time she did it.

 “You’re practically in his bed. We just have to get you there.”

 You rolled your eyes again, shocked at how quickly she’d gotten there. “Okay, down, girl. According to this doctor, I’m falling apart, Nika. Any bed I’ll be in for a while is this one.”

 “Well, now you have me here to encourage you to lap up the luxury and hospitality of his highness the prince of Brexendor. Get the fuck outta here!”

 The two of you laughed loudly. This situation you’d found yourself into was the most ridiculous one either of you could have ever begun to imagine.

 A few hours later, you found yourself alone while Anika settled in her room. Another knock sounded at your door. Being unable to open it yourself, you instructed them to come in. Once the doors opened in walked a beautiful girl about your age with long black hair and features similar to Henry’s. In your head, you suspected she was a family member. She smiled sweetly as she approached you. When she was by your bedside, she dropped onto the mattress.

 “Hi.”

 You returned her warm smile. “Hi.”

 “My god, you are beautiful.”

 You snorted, then pinched your lips together, trying to suppress your laugh. She was insane. You looked the worst you’d ever looked.

 “You’re being kind. I haven’t showered in a week and only today got to comb my hair. You’re being very, very kind.”

 She giggled but still looked genuine.

 “I’m Jemma,” she said, holding her hand out to you. Once you took it, and instantly noted how soft they were.

 “It’s nice to meet you.”

 “I have been trying to get here to introduce myself, but Henry told me to stay away so you could acclimate. Otherwise, I would have been here much sooner.”

 You smiled and assured her it was fine.

 “How are you doing?”

 You shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”

 She didn’t look convinced and took you in for a few moments. “I’m sure my brother has brought all the best doctors for your care and has thought of everything that would ensure your comfort. With that treatment, I expect you to make a full recovery in no time.”

 “Brother.”

 “Yes. Please tell me you did not think I was his girlfriend or something of the sort.”

 She looked disgusted, which made you laugh.

 “No. I suspected a family member. So you’re a princess.”

 Jemma rolled her eyes as she sighed out as if she was already tired of the conversation.

 “Yes, but I promise it is not nearly as glamourous as you’re thinking. The only nice thing about it is the diamonds, everything else, eh.”

 You smiled, already liking her. she gave off an air that said she didn’t take herself seriously and even liked to have a bit of fun more times than not.

 “The staff is all abuzz with news that you will be residing with us for the next few weeks. Henry has told them to cater to your every whim, and because it came from him, everyone is in a tizzy over it, prepping to ensure you are at your most comfortable,” Jemma explained.

 “What. No, that’s not what I want at all. They don’t have to go all out.”

 “It’s okay.”

 “No. then everyone will think I’m some prissy thing who likes to be waited on when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 Jemma took you for a little while, then took your hand and squeezed it gently.

 “Not to worry, Xari. I assure you no one will think that.”

 You sighed then tried to forget it because it was too late to change whether or not they thought it. You were sure everyone was already whispering about you and Anika, the two Americans who’d somehow found their way into the palace.

 “Also, we are not as gossip centered as other monarchies. I promise,” Jemma added, raising her hand as if to swear it.

 When she sensed you relaxed, she proceeded to ask a plethora of questions about you, ranging from where you were from to what you did and the all-important if you were single. You felt like you were on a modern-day “Who Wants to be Friends With a Princess” tv show. With every fact, you revealed she revealed a similar one and so on. After an hour, you found that you had plenty in common, something that was shocking for you.

 When Anika came back, the party really stated. Your laughter picked up, as did the stories that Jemma revealed about royal life. Those stories prompted Anika to tell stories of life as a commoner in America as she called it. The only thing was her stories we mainly all about partying, dating, and men. With each story, Jemma’s eyes widened, and you felt like slowly Anika would end up corrupting her.

 “Nika, stop. You’re going to have her on an episode of Princesses Gone Wild,” you joked, which had both of them in stitches on your bed.

 “I will have you know that I am not some innocent wallflower. I know things,” Jemma countered.

 You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Just the way she said that told you she didn’t know very many things. That was when Jemma proceeded to list the names of the men she’d dated, a list of three men. Anika was the one to ask the nature of these relationships, to which Jemma said she knew in great detail the kind of underwear each man wore. You lost it right then and there, dropping onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

 Exhaustion caught you off guard, dampening the mood of the night. Jemma assured you that she’d keep Anika company and show her around to give you time to take a nap. After thanking her, the two women walked out of your room, leaving you to silence. Once the door closed, it opened again. this time it was the woman named Audrina.

 “Good evening, ma’am. Is there anything I can bring you?”

 “No. I’m all right.”

 She nodded, then closed the door leaving you again. You quickly drifted off to sleep.

  ~~~~~

 -Henry-

He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as you. he remembered when you’d walked into the bar and sat down beside him like you were right where you were supposed to be. You had no idea that the bar was empty because it was closed for him to be there, had no idea that he was not some ordinary citizen. He liked being a no one, especially if it meant he could sit there with you all night. He remembered wanting just that. If his phone hadn’t run, if he’d had more time, he probably would have tried to hold your hand. If he’d had more time, he would have gotten himself into an even bigger predicament than he was now—attracted to a woman he knew better than to touch.

 Slowly he looked over the features of your face and took in each detail. He pressed the elements of your face to his memory so he could call on them when he was alone, buried in work. A sigh escaped him as a lite feeling filled him. It was an unfamiliar one. He wanted to touch you. It was an urge that was so strong he almost couldn’t overpower it—almost. He balled his fist and sat back in the settee beside your bed, trying to ignore the feelings that washed over him.

 “Remember yourself,” he whispered before he looked back to the work he’d brought with him when he’d decided to pay you a quick visit.

 This quick visit was an hour ago. When he found you asleep, he should have turned around and left, but he couldn’t. He intended to sit here for a few minutes, ten tops, but he still had yet to tear himself away. He mustered what was left of his control and focused on the screen before him and tried to write his speech for the new world bank’s upcoming opening.

 This was one of his father’s pet projects, and he was filled with pride to see it to fruition, but also it made him miss the man more. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. Every time he thought of his father in the last few months, it brought him added stress. It was this stress that prevented him from sleeping longer than four hours a night.

 “Christ,” he whispered.

 “Are you all right?”

 Jerking his head up, he saw you awake with your head still atop the pillow. You looked like a dream, or perhaps his best nightmare.

 “I am sorry. Was I too loud?”

 “No. I um—just happened to open my eyes.”

 You slowly sat up, allowing the blanket to fall from your chest to your lap. As you adjusted yourself, he moved his laptop to the other side of the settee.

 “You didn’t answer me, though. Are you all right?”

 A smile tugged at his lips, but he fought it. “Me? Should it not be me be asking you that?”

 “Can’t we ask each other?”

 He studied you for a few moments, then nodded. “I am fine.”

 “Liar.”

 His jaw dropped, half shocked you would go there. There weren’t many people in his life that would dare.

 “I take it no one calls his highness a liar,” you teased.

 “You take it right. Maybe Jemma or my mother on occasion and a few of my friends but not many.”

 You smiled, then shrugged. “I call em’ like I see em.’”

 He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell, what gave me away to make you insult me so?”

 Your smile widened before you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, bringing his eyes right there. He adjusted in the seat he sat and waited for you to continue.

 “Your eyes are red, under your eyes puffy, and one doesn’t just say Christ to say Christ.”

 You had him there. He pushed his fist under his chin and continued to watch you.

 “So you are implying I look bad.”

 You smirked then, and he picked up the change in the air.

 “I mean, I’m sure I look the same as you. So take comfort in that.”

 A chuckle escaped him. “So that is a yes; I do look bad.”

 You looked at him but didn’t answer.

 “I will take that as a yes on my part. however, regarding you, you look far from bad.”

 You snorted then laughed, and it was the most shockingly endearing sound. It wasn’t a laugh he would hear from others in his company. Their laughs would be all dignified, but yours was genuine. It was also downright terrifying, but he preferred it.

 “Now I know you’re a liar. I look absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but I haven't showered in a week.”

 He pinched his lips, hiding his smile. You looked so uncomfortable admitting that.

 “Oh my.” He placed his hand over his mouth as if the fact mortified him.

 You pinched your lips.

 “Please tell me you have at least brushed your teeth.”

 “Today was the first day in just as much time.”

 Again he put his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Appalling.”

 You snorted again, and the delightful laugh came back. This time the laugh looked to encompass your entire being, and you glowed. When your laughter subsided, you dabbed at your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. He held out his handkerchief to you. When you took it, you used it to replace your fingers.

 “Thank you.”

 When you finished, you inspected the fabric, then looked at him.

 “You must like your women disgusting to still be here.”

 He shrugged.

 “How are you feeling?”

 “After that nap, I’m feeling well.”

 That made him happy.

 “Are you feeling well enough for some dinner?”

 “Uh—I was told I’m to stay in bed.”

 “Yes, Dr. Alfonsi has informed me and the staff as well. That is why--,” he began before walking across the room to the door.

 Once he opened it, the staff rolled in three carts filled with platters, trays, and bowls of plenty. Once the carts were parked, he thanked the staff and let them see themselves out.

 “Dinner is served.”

 The look on your face said you didn’t know what to say, so he uncovered the treys finding the menu items he’d chosen for the meal.

 “I was not sure what you liked, so I had them bring all of it.”

 He took up a plate and brought it to you. It took a few moments for you to take it, but you did. That was when he went back for his to sit back on the settee.

 “Also, do not feel as if you have to eat ladylike for me,” he began.

 You took up your fork and shoved an overflowing fork full of mashed potatoes into your mouth, letting a small glob rest at the side of your mouth.

 “What was that, your highness?”

 That was all it took for his attraction to turn to yearning.

 The two of you ate in silence for the most part. He asked you questions to get to know you better, and every new piece of information he found out only made him like you more and more. When you spoke about your career, he heard the passion in your voice, and it spoke to something in him. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who was genuinely passionate about the things they enjoyed. It stirred something in him, something he wasn’t quite ready to uncover.

 “I am sorry that I did not tell you once we met who I was.”

 You paused with your fork in your mouth.

 “It’s okay. To be real, why would you reveal to a stranger your secret identity. That’s like Clark Kent walking around in his incognito glasses with an S on his chest. It defeats the purpose.”

 “Clark Kent. Superman.”

 “Yes, one of my favorite superheroes.”

 A soft smile spread across his face before he nodded.

 “What’s yours? Wonder Woman?”

 He scoffed, then shook his head as he stood and approached the carts, ready for dessert. It wasn’t the Strawberry Cheesecake he truly desired, but it would have to do. When he returned to his seat, he placed your plate in front of you and sat.

 “It’s Wonder Woman, huh, or maybe Poison Ivy, ooh, Catwoman.”

 He sat there patiently, letting you list them off. He couldn’t help but wonder why those were chosen.

 “Before I answer, can I ask why you chose them?”

 He saw the mischievous glint twinkle in your eye as your lips quirked up into a smirk.

 “Oh, this, I must hear.”

 “No reason. They’re just seen as the most desirable by fanboy standards,” you responded while rolling with your eyes.

 He suppressed a chuckle to put a piece of the cheesecake into his mouth.

 “So?”

 “None of those.”

 “Oh, please do enlighten me,” you quipped.

 Resting the fork on the side of the dish, he responded. “Nubia and Storm.”

 He sat there and thoroughly enjoyed watching the emotions wash over your face. Shock was the first, then disbelief, and finally awe. Now you sat there assessing him as if you thought he was pranking you. He was not. You opened your mouth to say something, and he stopped you before you did.

 “I suggest you do not repeat it. I assure you I am not.”

 Your eyes darkened right at the moment you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth. Losing his train of thought and head for control, he put another piece of the cake into his mouth, licking the back of the fork. Your eyes lowered to his mouth and your teeth sunk into that delectable bottom lip. If he were a weaker man, he would have tossed the plate he held to the side and been on you in under five seconds, but he was not a weak man. As future King, weakness had no place in the monarchy.

 Weakness was not an option until he saw you put the fork in your mouth to mirror his actions, only your tongue swirled around the teeth of the fork in a way that made his pants instantly too tight. Christ, help him.

 He cleared his throat and changed his position on the couch to one that would hide your effect.

“Interesting. I didn’t expect those,” you stuttered.

 “What did—what did you expect?”

 You shrugged and toyed with the fork against your lips. “Something else, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

 Your eyes met again, and the temptation he felt was somehow more than he’d ever felt. He wanted you. He’d wanted you since you cursed about how disgusting the drink was at the bar. The only thing was, this want had shifted.

 “I am happy it is pleasantly.”

 Again your eyes lingered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the heavy cloud of temptation that filled the room.

 “What’re you working on?”

 He cleared his throat again and straightened himself. “Uh—a speech. One of my father’s projects premiers in a few days, the first since his um—” he cleared his throat again. “Since his passing, and I am going to be the one to cut the ribbon on it.”

 “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 Keeping his eyes turned downward, he nodded. The sincerity in your voice touched him. “Thank you.”

 The silence between you stretched for a few seconds before you spoke again.

 “What’s wrong with it?”

 “The speech, um—I do not know. It just does not feel right.”

 “Want me to take a look?”

 “Do you have an aptness for speeches?”

 You placed your place to the side and adjusted your posture.

 “Not speeches in general. I do have a knack for words. I’ve spent the last few years writing about the places I’ve gone in such a way that makes people want to go there themselves. I might know a little something, something.”

 He smiled, put the plate beside him, and leaned forward to hand you his laptop. He watched as you read through the few paragraphs he’d already written and wondered what you thought of it. Every lift of your brow or nibble of your lip had him more and more curious as to the thoughts in your head. After a few minutes, you nodded.

 “This isn’t bad. You sound like you’re on a good roll.”

 “No critique?”

 “How about you leave me with it for a day or two, and I’ll have some notes. Or, you could give it to your royal speechwriter.”

 He chuckled. “What makes you think I have one of those?”

 You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Hello, this is a monarchy. I am sure the monarchy employs people to make sure their dear prince is always PC.”

 You were right.

 “I think I would rather leave it with you,” he replied, making you smile in the process.

 “Okay. I’ll knock your socks off then.”

 “You already have,” he said, standing to take your plate.

 He tried to arrange the empty plates, dishes, and classes on the carts in a way that wouldn’t have them falling once they were moved.

 “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

 He turned in time to see you wobbling toward him, clutching the IV pole with one hand and a plate with the other. He saw your knees buckle and wrapped you in his arms, taking you to the bed in the process. With you underneath him, he couldn't deny how right this felt. Your breathing was heavy, your eyes bright and chest heaving. The way you were looking at him made his next move the only possible one.

 He brought his lips toward yours but right before he claimed them, he hesitated. The tiny sliver of space between your lips made it easy to feel the literal electricity that sparked between you. He was so close, but so far, and he wanted to get closer. The fact that you didn’t look as if you objected to this made his blood bubble with desire even more than it had hours ago when he first walked in.

 “I apologize,” he whispered before he pulled away from you with whatever ounce of strength he had remaining. He stood before you then held his hands out to you.

 “Let me help you.”

 You placed your hands in his letting him hoist you up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you back to the side of the bed you’d been this entire time.  When he eased you down, he spread the blanket over you and assured you were comfortable. Being sure to keep his eyes away from yours, he turned to his things and gathered them.

 “I will let you get some rest. If Dr. Alfonsi found out I were here preventing that, he would give me a stern talk.”

 “Thank you for this,” you said.

 He took his laptop from your bed and nodded. “I will email it to you.”

 “You have my email?”

 “I am head of this country; I have multiple resources at my disposal,” he replied, smirking at you. Your smile said you fully understood his meaning and knew he was teasing. You understood him. Yet another thing to like about you, he thought. He quickly averted his eyes then gave you a slight head bow.

 “Good night, Xari.”

 “Good night, your highness.”

  He walked toward the door and poked his head out to instruct the waiting staff to remove the carts. The walk back to his room was filled with several stops as he thought to go back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he carried on his way. He’d never been filled with so many conflicting wants and thoughts before, and he suspected as the coming weeks stretched, this would be just the tip of the iceberg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Forget Me Not ~ R.C.

A/n: I really love the diversity of requests on this page y’all are so good to me. I did assume a female reader, so let me know if you want a male/nonbinary request instead! I love the idea of this prompt going a totally different way lol. Also, super sorry I took so long writing it :( Hope it was worth the wait!

Request: “Could you write something where Randall gets dusted by the reader to forget about you and protect him from the order and how he reacts when he finds out?...” by 💙 anon

Word Count: 4600+

MASTERLIST

"You want me to what?"

Alyssa took a deep breath. It was apparent that it caused her just as much pain to say as it did Y/n to hear. "The Grand Magus," She said with great stress, making sure it was clear that this had been  Vera's decision and not hers. "Wants us to dust the wolves to make them forget. Everything." I went to argue with her so she rushed to add, "She thinks that they can't be controlled and therefore they're dangerous." Alyssa grabbed Y/n's shoulder, her desperation clear. The only person that would understand her struggle was the girl in front of her. If Y/n wasn't on her side Alyssa was going to lose her mind. "If you don't, they are going to kill them. All of them."

Y/n covered her mouth with her hand, trying to process. After a moment she moved it so she could speak, but only to her throat, as if pantomiming choking herself. "I have to make Randall forget me?"

Alyssa swallowed hard. "You've got the easiest access to him, and if you do what they say then you'll gain Vera's trust. I..." She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose for a second. When she moved her hand away and looked back at Y/n, there were tears in her eyes. "Listen, I need a friend in this and so will you. I know you care about Randall as much as I care about Jack and we will be the only two in the whole Order that will understand how the other feels. Please, do this for me. For - for you, even."

Shaking her head, Y/n stepped away. Alyssa seemed defeated until Y/n spoke. "I do it for Randall, like I do everything. If I was doing something for myself... I'd do something stupid."

There was a solemness to Alyssa's nod. She had won and gotten Y/n on her side. But at what cost?

Not long after their conversation, Y/n was on a trail to destroy the one thing that meant most to her for the sake of the man she loved. Randall and her had been dating for a while now. They'd met before either of them were part of the Knights or the Order and had started dating pretty soon after their instant chemistry took off without a hitch. When Alyssa had dragged Y/n to some beaten down cabin or house or whatever in the middle of the woods, Y/n hadn't known what to expect until she opened the door and came face to face with Vera Stone, who was supposed to be dead, and her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who was apparently her enemy. It had all been down hill from there, though it hadn't seemed to be for a second there. Randall and her had talked and figured out a system. They'd make it work. They had a plan.

Now it didn't matter.

"Hey there," Randall greeted brightly, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/n was a terrible liar but tried to seem as happy to see him as he was her. She was always glad to reunite with him, but what it meant to meet up with him now... For the first time she wanted to run far away from him and never come back. Maybe then she wouldn't have to do this. But that was, of course, a lie. If she didn't someone else would, and she might get dusted herself when she finally did return. She needed to grow up and just do what had to be done. Until she could figure out a better option, she'd rather him forget her than be dead. "Hey." She didn't stop walking when she saw him, moving right into his arms. He was a little surprised but was always down for a hug.

As had been mentioned before, Y/n was a bad liar, and even more so to Randall who knew her very well and could always tell when something was bothering her. So even though he loved hugs, he was also concerned by the way she was clinging to him. He pulled her back, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "What's wrong?" His eyes searched hers, trying to find the problem so he could fix it.

God she was going to miss him. He wasn't just her boyfriend, he was her best friend. How could she just...? No, she would do it. She HAD to do it. "Nothing." She steeled herself, pulling her thoughts together forcefully. This wasn't the worst option. At least if he forgot her, he'd be alive. And he wouldn't hurt either. He wouldn't know to miss her. This was a mercy. This was better than what she would be getting. There was no time for self pity though, she had to focus on helping him. Saving him. She relaxed a little and he seemed to believe her a bit more. "I just missed you."

"We saw each other yesterday," he reminded, his smile growing a little more teasing.

She felt her heart swell. "Well, how am I supposed to ever be okay with being away from the best boyfriend ever? Every second apart is actual torture."

Randall scooped her up against her, kissing her on the cheek. "My adorable, cheesy girlfriend. What would I do without you?"

Y/n felt a pang in her chest. "You'll never know." That, at least, was the truth. She stepped away, turning to the bar. She'd come to the Den since that's where he'd been, studying. Jack had left just before she'd gotten there to meet with Alyssa. Lilith and Hamish were still here though, so Y/n had to either wait for them to get called out or somehow get Randall away. "Want to do something today?" She needed to get this over with. Like a band-aid. Fast.

"Sure, I-"

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," Lilith said as she pointed to the door out they were blocking. "I was thinking about going for a run. I can't focus on homework after having a rough time sleeping. I think it would help to get my blood going." They both nodded at her and parted, letting her pass.

"Anyway," Randall sighed, stepping closer to his girlfriend again. "Where do you want to-?"

"Pardon me," Hamish mumbled as he brushed between the couple, pushing them apart again. "I need a drink." He looked tired, but wasn't it early to be drinking? And didn't he have homework? And class?

They let him go anyway. It wasn't their job to judge his life choices.

A thought did occur to Y/n then though. "...Or we could stay here." She chuckled.

He shook his head. "I can tell you, they definitely left because this place gets really stuffy after a while. We were all about ready to clock in a break. How about a walk instead?" Y/n agreed and he reached out, intertwining their fingers before pushing the door open and heading outside, tugging her gently after him. "You had a class this morning, didn't you?" He asked as a way to start conversation.

She nodded. "Yeah." She shrugged, already knowing what he was going to ask. "It was fine. My professor seemed to be irritated today but I know it wasn't my fault so no stress." She chuckled softly and he smiled. It was known that most of her professors were often irritated with her since she struggled to pay attention in class in a way they found mattered. She knew all the material and got fantastic grades, but spent most of her time staring out the window so they'd try to write her off, just for her to pull through anyway. She'd been accused of cheating even a few times, but she never did so it had fallen short.

They began to circle the house in their little walk, not wanting to go too far and chance running into someone else, but also wanting to get some distance from the place Randall didn't want to be right now. Y/n pulled ahead, turning around so she was walking backwards. He slowed down so she didn't have to walk so fast. "You sure it wasn't you? I swear you always press the right button, even if you're trying to be good."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I'm sure. Even Mrs. Tynn has stopped her side comments. They're over it. I'm not cheating, I'm learning in my own way, and they don't have enough energy to be wasting it on me all the time." He nodded, recognizing that as fact. Most professors didn't waste energy on students if they didn't feel they had to. Y/n tilted their path, taking them closer and closer to the woods and further away from the Den. It would be best if he was away from it when he forgot, so he wouldn't come back and go searching. "How about you?"

"Thank god I don't have class today," Randall groaned, rolling his eyes. "I was so happy when my teachers all told me I'd have no classes on Saturday." Y/n chuckled, remembering how all last year he'd been whining and moaning and complaining about having class on Saturday. He didn't mind Sunday, and if he had the day off on Friday it bothered him less, but there was something about having Saturdays free that he fed off of. Y/n only had the one morning class, so they usually spent it together.

I guess that wasn't an option anymore.

Y/n wrapped her fingers around the bag in her pocket. It was super small. Smaller than what she'd thought. "Randall," she wondered aloud. He hummed, letting her know he was listening. "Do you ever do something that you regret, but you know you have to do?"

At that he scoffed. "I guess. Not really, for the most part, but I have before." Y/n thought back to when must have been around the time Randall had first joined. He was nervous and jumpy, obviously guilt ridden. The first few times he'd killed people had been obvious in hindsight. He wouldn't let Y/n touch him, and had almost broken up with her because he said he wasn't good enough for her. Then, after a while, he'd seemed to calm and adjust. Y/n wondered if that's what he had in mind when she said things you had to do, but didn't want to. Last time she'd checked, he was plenty fine with it now. He even enjoyed it, having to be reeled in by Jack and occasionally Hamish, and being disappointed when he was.

It came out without her wanting it to. "What if you had to kill me?" He stopped dead and she slowed, leaving a lot of space between them. He suddenly felt incredibly far away and she hated it. "I don't mean to make you anxious - I haven't done anything. I just mean, your job is to kill people in the Order right? You enjoy doing it. It's what fuels you every day. Well, goddamnit, I'm in the Order."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I thought we talked about this."

"I-" She bit her lip, looking away from him. "You guys kill kids our age. Kids who are most of the time just doing what they're told so they can be apart of something they enjoy. Something they worked their asses off to keep being apart of. Something that makes them special." She looked back at him. "What if the day comes that I'm asked to do something and you're told to stop me, and we have to kill each other? Would you do it?"

"Would you?" It was accusing and it made Y/n take another step away, horrified at what must have been going through his head.

"NO!" She felt anger rise inside of her. "I'd give everything to protect you, Randall. But what I do doesn't require me to kill you, does it?"

He seemed to have too many thoughts. The easy going mood from a second ago was gone. "Well I can't just quit like you can."

Immediately Y/n's anger exploded and he looked away, ashamed. He knew how much magic meant to her. How she had spent years feeling like an outsider until she'd learned magic and it had given her a purpose. Somewhere to belong, where things made sense. "If I quit, I would lose everything. Including you. I wouldn't know you were a wolf anymore, and with all that sneaking around... I mean our secrets almost ripped us apart before. You want it to happen again?"

"No," he snapped. His voice sounded raw though, and stress lines were beginning to deepen as the thought of me forgetting him made him feel terrible. Y/n knew, because she had been thinking about it nonstop since Alyssa had told her what Vera had ordered.

Y/n turned around, puling the bag out of her pocket. She stared at it, her eyes watering. She blinked it away, looking straight ahead and setting her jaw. "I love you, Randall. Despite what you think about the Order and what you do and our parts in this world that was supposed to make us enemies. I love you."

Randall sighed behind her, his footsteps sounding as he moved closer. She reached into the bag, pulling out a handful of dust. "I love you too. I'm sorry I just... I don't want to lose you."

"Neither do I," Y/n whispered. His hand reached out to touch her shoulder. The second it landed, she spun around, throwing the dust in his face. He collapsed right there and she felt her heart shatter. She slipped the now empty bag in her pocket, staring at him. He suddenly woke up, gasping, eyes flying open as he looked around, obviously confused. She rushed to him, offering a hand to help him up. "Oh my god are you okay?"

"Y- yeah." He blinked, shaking his head, and then took her hand as she helped him up. She let herself hold as long as he would let her, reasoning that he would need to be stabilized but knowing it was really because this was probably the last time she'd ever touch him again. "Where am I?"

"You looked like you were going on a walk and you just collapsed." She slipped out her phone with some quick thinking. "I was taking pictures."

That's when his eyes landed on her. He made the same expression he had the first time he'd seen her, if with a little more confusion now. "Why?"

"I enjoy the beauty of nature," she slowly offered, a spike a fear running through her as she wondered if it hadn't worked.

He seemed to chuckle though, his hand that she'd been holding now holding her hand instead. "All you have to do to see art is look in the mirror."

Despite herself, she blushed. "Well thank you." She pulled her arm away, stepping back. It was time to stay goodbye. "Make sure you get back to school safely, why don't you? Wouldn't want a pretty face like yours to get messed up with another fall."

His eye slight up and she internally cursed herself. STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM! "You know, it's customary for the knight in shining armor to escort the princess back to safety."

"You do know that you're the princess in this situation," she reminded, a smile growing.

"I am," he confirmed rather proudly. "And since you're my knight in shining armor, how about I buy you dinner? As a thank you."

She almost said yes. Almost. She remembered what she'd just said. How keeping secrets ruined relationships. And how could she have a relationship with him when there was so much he'd forgotten? It would be unfair to her, and even more so to him. She didn't get to keep being happy when she'd taken away from him the exact thing she'd gotten mad at him for suggesting she leave. The Order was for Y/n what the Knights were for Randall. Even if it was to save his life, she had a lot to answer for. So she panicked, and said the first thing that came into her mind instead. "I... have a boyfriend." Her face scrunched. What an odd thing to say when just moments before she'd flirted with him. "Sorry. I..." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm happy with him."

He backed off immediately. "I get it, no worries. Thanks anyway."

Nodding, she walked away. Her fingers death gripped her phone as she stared at the ground as she walked. The only thought she could muster was: You shouldn't be thanking me.

-

Y/n had been struggling to keep herself together, but at the very least she'd had the freedom to be away from any reminders of Randall when she was doing Order stuff.

Now they were here too.

"Y/n, right?"

The girl turned to face the person talking to her and had to steel herself so she wouldn't cry. "Yeah." Her voice came out in a rasp and she cleared her throat. He kept looking at her like he was trying to understand. She couldn't understand what was so interesting to him, but his look made her want to combust into flames. Randall's gaze usually made her feel warm, but not it was like someone had turned the temperature up a hundred degrees. It was unbearably painful.

"I was just wondering if you could help me with something."

She moved away as he went to step closer, shrinking into herself. "Please ask someone else."

That seemed to confuse him. "But-"

"She gave you an order, Neophyte," Alyssa said calmly. Her hands were behind her back and she was giving Randall a warning look. It wasn't angry like she'd been with Jack when he'd first joined. It was almost... panicked. Y/n could understand. Alyssa of all people knew how weak Y/n's self control was when it came to Randall, and if she burst into tears just because he'd talked to her it would have set off a lot of questions.

Randall seemed pissed. "Fine." He turned around and left and Y/n almost became a puddle from how hard she'd melted in relief.

Y/n turned to Alyssa. "I- I can't do this anymore, Lys. Please just- maybe I should just quit. And forget. I haven't been helping you at all with the dust and it's getting so complicated and I- I- I can't lie to him anymore." Her eyes were watering and she'd begun to hyperventilate.

"You can't forget," Alyssa rushed, her eyes wide with panic.

"Why not?" Y/n demanded. "It's been six months of me sitting here and trying to deal with the fact that I made him forget everything that mattered to him, including me. And for what? It didn't work, and they're going to kill him anyway!"

Suddenly Y/n's brain shut down.

They were going to kill Randall.

Tears were streaming as she leaned against the wall behind her, soft sobs emitting from her as she tried to muffle them with her hand. Her chest constricted and she doubled over, covering her face. Alyssa tried to touch her and shrunk away, a shiver running down her spine as her body coiled so tightly it hurt. "Y/n please-"

In response, the girl on the floor shook her head frantically before her body began to vibrate. She was having a breakdown. It had been the worst six months of her life and Y/n had a soft heart. She didn't hurt people. She didn't betray people who she cared about - people who trusted her. She was a good person through and through. She handled everything to the best of her ability, guided by a strong conscious. Everything she was doing now went against that driving force that demanded she do what was right. Nothing made sense anymore, and she couldn't handle feeling lost on top of feeling both guilty and alone. They were all emotions she couldn't handle. She wasn't built to deal with it.

It was as if Alyssa could sense the exact moment she could no longer help Y/n. The blonde spun around, running. In the distance she was yelling something but Y/n didn't care. Not until two people came back, one kneeling in front of her and reaching out, concerned. Y/n made a mental note not to break down in the temple again. What were they going to do? Help her? No, the Order would be much more eager to just wiper her memory. On second thought, that might not be so bad.

"Y/n, please talk to me." Her head snapped up to lock eyes with Randall of all people. "Wh-" She shook her head. "No," she moaned, putting her head back between her legs. "Don't help me."

He sighed. "Y/n I know." Just like that Y/n was still, her eyes wide as she slowly looked not at Randall, but at Alyssa. The blonde shrunk away in surprised fear at the look of murder on Y/n's face.

"You... told him?"

"They remembered," Alyssa rushed to explain as she twisted her hand around her wrist nervously. "Their healing was just helping them get used to the dust, like someone adjusting to a drug. I had to do something, I-"

Y/n shot to her feet, rushing at Alyssa. Randall caught her by some miracle. She didn't even process him though. "He's going to die now!"

"What?" Randall snapped.

"No one is going to die." Alyssa huffed, her voice tight. "We will figure this out. But- Y/n I need your help."

Y/n grunted, twisting her body to slam her foot on top of Randall's. He yelped and flew back from her and she closed the distance between her and the Alyssa. "You got me into this whole mess. You brought Vera to the Den and that's how she found out about the wolves. You convinced me to agree, and then continued to convince me to stay. Because you needed a friend and if they found out, they'd die. Now you've gone behind my back and made some alliance with them and you want my help again?"

Alyssa let out a sharp breath, her body shuddering. "I'm just trying to figure this out, Y/n. I know how hard this all is I'm sorry I just- I'm trying to keep them alive, and if they didn't get answers it was going to make everything so much worse."

"Then why didn't you tell me they remembered?" Y/n demanded. "What did you tell Randall when he asked who I was or why I did what I did? Do you even know why? Did you take away my opportunity to explain it to him myself, without other people muddling up what really happened? Fuck you Alyssa." She spun around to run off but was stopped dead as her eyes locked with Randall's.

"You... were the one who dusted me?" Alyssa's help had aided in returning memories much more quickly, and in bigger chunks, but for each of the wolves it had worked differently. For Hamish, it had been from when they'd lost their memories and backward. For Jack, it had been returned to him all at once. For Lilith, it had come very quickly in tiny tidbits. For Randall, it was in huge chunks but very slowly. As Y/n revealed she had been the one to do it, he got his first bad memory of the girl. The day she'd taken his memory.

Y/n was stunned. "You... didn't know?"

Alyssa cleared her throat. "I.. think I should go." She dipped around them and raced out before either could stop her. Not that they cared much to.

"Randall, please-"

"She didn't tell me anything," Randall told her. His voice wasn't malicious as she expected, but it was hard. She wasn't sure what that meant. Was he mad? Sad? Scared? Secretly planning some violent revenge? "That's why I came up to you. I thought... I know we were together before, but I don't know everything. Every time I saw you I got more, but... not everything. Alyssa says that in two or three days all of our memories will be back again. I thought talking to you might unlock if we weren't together anymore, or where we'd left off... I guess it wasn't great."

Y/n couldn't find the words. "I can't even think of how to apologize to you. Just, please understand that I did it so they wouldn't kill you. I figured you living out your life without me would be safer for you, if anything. You'd be happy. And you were happy. I know how hard it was, and what it cost. It cost being a wolf, and that was something special. Like magic is to me. And I... I can't imagine what it would be like to realize your best friend doesn't even care about you. I was so mad when I found out. But if I had done anything, I would have forgotten you too. And- and sometimes I wanted to, but I thought that I should hurt. Because I made you hurt. I-" She cringed away, flinching away from her as he met her gaze again. "I'm so sorry Randall."

His jaw worked as he let this new information roll around in his head. "I'm angry," he realized. Y/n's head fell forward in shame. "But... not at you, I don't think." She stared at the ground in shocked, too scared to look at his face again and see he was being sarcastic, or cruel. "I'm mad at the Order. I'm mad they forced you to do this. Honestly, I think I would have done the same. I can't imagine having to choose your life or your magic. I don't blame you- you made the right choice. If you hadn't, you'd have forgotten and I could just as well be dead."

Now Y/n did look up. "You... forgive me?"

After a second, he shook his head. "There's nothing to forgive you for. I got the good memories first, Y/n. I got the cuddling and the crying when I stepped on bugs, and the stressing about tests together, and watching you get decked because someone was nasty to me. Back when we were still pretending to be just friends and I flirted with someone to see if you'd get jealous. To see if you liked me. And it was a guy, and this older woman was really nasty to me. You stood up for me, and when her husband reacted poorly and you were on the floor.... god I was so lucky those police officers were nearby because I almost shifted right then and there." He smiled a little. "You love me, and I love you. And you were faced with a bad choice and an even worse choice. I'm just so glad that I can come back to you, rather than having to go through even more shit to get you to remember to." He sighed, shaking his head again. "I've been through so much, Y/n. We- both have, actually. This world of our is shit, and it's really hard to deal with alone. Can we just get passed this and be happy? You make being happy so much easier."

Y/n beamed. "Of course Randall."

They shared their first kiss in six months, and it was a relief to both of them. It was also a promise. A promise that no matter what, it was always them. They were together, through thick and thin. It was Y/n and Randall and it would always be Y/n and Randall. No matter what to get between them in the future, they'd figure it out and stick together. Because fuck everything else if they lost what they had. Love was more powerful than any magic. More important too.

[aureolusfirewrites]

Guess what bitch is back with another chapter of her halloween in February story

Veined in Black

Chapter 2

/Oct. 30/

Rook went down the halls of Plumber headquarters to Ben's room. Ben hadn't shown up for patrol today and Rook was starting to feel nervous. Now Ben normally was late, but even so there was usually a text saying why. He didn't get one of those today though, and Ben also didn't respond when Rook had tried repeatedly to call him. 

Rook stopped in front of the door and let it scan his badge. He was one of the few people that had an override to Ben's door. It slid open and Rook went inside. Nothing out of place... 

"Ben? Are you here?" 

"Mnnm" a sleepy groan came from the back of the room. 

Rook let out a sigh of relief. Ben was laying in his bed with his blankets so twisted around he looked like he might be tangled in them. "Ben you need to get up we have patrol today." 

"Huh? What? Oh- yeah okay gettin up" Ben's voice groaned. Rook watched his partner roll off his cot wrapping himself up again while doing so. Rook sat down and waited while Ben groggily got ready for the day. 

Rook knew Ben had a rough day yesterday between the murder clown costume and the ectonurite but his partner looked so out of it right now.

After a few minutes Ben trudged out of the bathroom rubbing his eyes with his hair still uncombed but with new clothes on. "Alright I'm all set" Ben said stopping to yawn. 

"Are you sure you are good for today you seem tired" Rook's uneasy feeling didn't leave. "Pssh, Rook I'm always tired, just a little more so today I'm fine really let's go!" Rook nodded and sighed. Ben would plow himself into the ground before admitting to being to tired for work.

They stepped out in the hallway and started walking towards the hangar where Rook had the proto-truk parked. The plumbers base had the lights dimmed to give it more of a "spooky halloween setting" but Rook was pretty much convinced that it was an excuse not to have such a high electricity bill. 

Rook buckled up in the driver's seat and glanced over to Ben. The small hero was staring into space it was- in all honesty- disturbing. His eyes were locked in front of him staring out the windshield like he was sleeping with his eyes open as if he wasn't really in his head but rather far away. 

He turned the truck on revving it to life and Ben snapped back to reality shaking his head and rubbing his hands through his hair. "Are you sure you are good?" He was getting concerned now. "Yeah I'm f- fine" Ben stuttered slightly. 

Rook drove out of the hangar onto the streets of Bellwood. It was beautiful out the sun was shining brightly and- and Ben recoiled at it. He let out a small groaned hiss and curled up slightly when it lit up the cabin of the vehicle. But just as soon as it happened he was able to shake it off. 

Ben watched out the window for a long time. They passed a few halloween stores. Despite Ben's generous efforts he wouldn't let his partner lead him in one. Rook was used to it by now, having Ben offer to take him somewhere that he knew would cause him mental harm simply for the fact that Rook hadn't been there. 

"Hey Rook, what are you gonna be?" Ben spoke up after passing yet another costume shop. "Pardon?" "Y'know for the plumber's halloween eclipse party" Ben said. 

"Hm I did not know that I was in need of a costume" Rook knew that humans traditionally dressed up as various things for the holiday but the plumbers party wasn't a costume party as far as he knew.

"It's not about if you need one Rook" Ben said with a smile "it's about fun and dressing up just for the hell of it." Rook couldn't help but smile back. "And what may I ask kind of costume would I even wear to said party?" Ben looked in deep thought for a moment before he spoke. "Hm well I don't know but I bet even seeing you out of your armor counts as a costume for you" His partner made a snorting noise and broke into laughter. Rook grinned and shook his head. 

Ben's laughter broke off into moaning. Rook slowed down as Ben put his hand to his forehead. Ben started falling forward slightly his head hitting the dashboard. "Ben!" He pulled over and looked to his partner.

"Ben what is wrong what is happening?" Ben shook his head. "Ugh I- I dunno Rook my head feels like it's gonna explode but also feels like I'm not really in it."  Rook's frown deepened "maybe we should take you to the med bay at plumber HQ" Rook suggested not liking how Ben was reacting. "No, I'm fine Rook really be- besides it doesn't hurt as much now. I think I'm just tired" Ben said slowly taking his hand away from his forehead and easing back into his chair. 

The hero wasn't exaggerating on one thing though. Ben looked beyond tired. Ben normally had bags under his eyes but now, now they looked horrible and they were darker than he thought any human's should be, and Ben's skin had gone from his normal tan to an unhealthy pale. It was so drastic it almost looked fake. 

Ben must've picked up on Rook's frustration with his blatant disregard for his own health because once again Ben was smirking. "Nice to see you actually care bout me though partner." A healthy pink blush spread across his sickly pale skin along with his smile. 

Rook felt his own flustered blush underneath his fur. "Of course I care about your well-being although you do not make my job at doing so any easier." The red on Ben's face grew up his ears. 

'You are sure that you do not need to go to med bay?" Ben opened his mouth then clamped it shut before saying, "Yeah I'm sure Rook, don't worry I'm just tired. How bout this I'll sleep and you find a costume or something." Rook realized Ben was going to try and push him away unless he had an excuse. "And what do you have prepared for a costume?" Ben's smile grew especially wide. "Don't worry about a thing Rook I've got it all covered." 

Rook rubbed his hand over his face "That is what I am afraid of."

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

Ben had no idea why he felt so crummy. He thought maybe it might be because he hit his head the other day but that couldn't be right, he had taken harder hits than that and always got back fine. Plus the feeling in his head was odd. 

It felt like his adhd was trying to take over his entire head. Sure he spaced out sometimes but this was like he was watching things happen from in his own mind and all the extra space inside was filled with static. He didn't feel entirely in control of himself like maybe he was just sharing his body with something but whatever dots he tried to connect got all blurred and fuzzy before he could come to a conclusion. 

"Ben I am serious. Are you sure you do not want me to stay with you?" No. "Yeah I'm sure it's alright dude just chill out Ive been home alone before besides my dorm is in the plumber base" Rook gave him a skeptical look "Alright I see your point. Sure plumber base isn't the most... Secure place but I've been staying there for months now I'm sure it'll be fine. Besides nothing's gonna get the drop on Ben 10!" 

Ben got to his room and Rook took one last glance at him before letting the door shut. 'He's so cute when he's worried' a sleepy thought broke through his daze. 

Ben yawned and stretched before popping a few tylenol tablets in his mouth. He shook the bottle and it made a hollow noise. 'Hm running low on tylenol...' he'd have plenty of time for that later right now he wanted one thing. Sleep. 

He flopped onto his bed still wearing his clothes he really didn't care at this point. Normally it took a while for him to fall asleep but tonight it came easy. He thanked the sky above for that. 

Soon he would learn to eat those words.

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

'Thump'

The teenager's body hit the ground solidly and he walked over to a mirror. Looking in it what stared back at him was a pale face with a wicked smirk and dark pits of eyes. 

He threw his head back and in a raspy voice he cackled out a maniacal laugh. 

"Nothing can keep Ben 10 down indeed."

[mistymark]

the one where you’re someone else. [jaemin] [part I]

na jaemin x reader // 2.9k words // high school!au // body switch!au

summary; in which you wake up in someone else’s body. more than once.

warnings: swearing, confusion, mention of male genitalia

requested; nope

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Groaning, you roll onto your side, searching blindly for the snooze button on your alarm, your head remaining on the pillow. Five more minutes. Please.

...

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. This time you squint your eyes open, sitting up in bed and rubbing your head groggily. You wonder why you feel so tired, and the remnants of your dream drift slowly into your mind.

Scenes flash through your mind in the same frightening way you imagine one would see highlights of their life before they die. The hallway of a high school that is not your own, a bright-eyed boy grinning at you before he sprints away from you, a test that you had definitely not prepared for, a cute café and delicious treats, the strange feeling of not recognising yourself in the mirror...

“Y/n!” A voice calls for you from the kitchen, and you hastily slip on a pair of slippers and make your way through the house in search of breakfast. A small frown sits on your mother’s face as she finishes making her own breakfast, “Two days in a row you haven’t been awake on time. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep? Maybe you should go to sleep early tonight.”

“I’m fine, Mum,” you roll your eyes as she presses the back of her hand against your forehead.

“This is so unusual for you,” she mumbles, almost to herself. When you push her hand away to reach for the juice, she goes back to her breakfast, momentarily forgetting about the newspaper she had just been reading sitting beside her. “Yesterday I was starting to wonder if you’d had some kind of mental breakdown.” She looks up at you then, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion; you’d been exactly the same yesterday, only less tired.

“It’s… been an exhausting week,” you try to find an explanation. She seems satisfied with the answer. Looking at the time, you quickly stand up to rush to your room, “Shit. I need to get ready for school.”

You busy yourself with getting ready for school, only a little annoyed at yourself for not having packed your bag last night, the simple disruption to your morning routine adding a few minutes to your normal departure time. You were sure you’d packed it last night, but your belongings scattered around your room clearly disagreed. Quickly sliding your binders, books and laptop into your backpack, you rushed around your room. Luckily, you didn’t miss the bus.

“Y/n!” Your best friend, Nina, sees you shortly after you enter the front doors of your school. Her excitement to see you is shown in the way she smiles at you, though it shortly changes to a small frown as she looks you up and down. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you answer honestly, shying away from her assessing gaze. Her eyes scan your face.

“Nina, would you quit it?” Seungmin laughs, giving her a slight push. You hadn’t even noticed him walking up to the two of you. She stumbles, her eyes moving from you to him, narrowing. “She’s fine,” he states, turning to you now.

“You were acting so weird yesterday,” she stresses to you, still looking at you tentatively as if she expected you to spontaneously combust any second.

“What?” You frown in confusion at them, wondering why they were being so dramatic. Maybe a bad test result made you cry yesterday, but that wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for you. Opening your locker, you tear your gaze from your friends in favour of focusing on piling your books onto the shelf. From the corner of your eye, you can tell they’re still watching you wearily. “Alright, spill it. What’s up?”

“You…” Nina struggles to find the words.

“It was like you were a different person,” Seungmin finally says. “You kept forgetting who you were, where you were, what you were supposed to be doing. We thought you had amnesia or something.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you look between them again, “You’re kidding, right?” You think back to yesterday – Tuesday – and can’t remember anything out of the ordinary.

“No, Y/n, we’re dead serious,” Nina responds, eyeing you again.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you guys but I have a class to get to. Mrs Kim has a paper for me,” you grab your history books and close your locker.

Nina looks at Seungmin confusedly, “Don’t you have history third period?” He nods. She turns to you again, “Y/n, history is third period. We have chemistry first.”

“We always have history first on a Wednesday,” you smile, rolling your eyes. “Come on, guys, you know I memorised my schedule on the first day.”

There’s silence, before Seungmin grabs his phone from his pocket, pressing the button so the screen lights up and dangles it in front of your face, “Yeah, well, it’s Thursday, so history is third.”

The bell rings before you can dispute this. Even though, of course, what could you say? It was Thursday – your own phone said so, so they couldn’t be messing with you. How could it be that a whole day had slipped from your memory?

You drift between classes in a confused daze, only loosely focusing on the words of your teachers and peers, slowly writing half-finished notes and barely registering when the teacher was giving you homework.

Your focus was primarily on Wednesday – yesterday – and why you couldn’t remember anything. There were plenty of memorable things that happened on Wednesdays – you had gym class, your usual ice cream date with Nina and Seungmin, work. Yet, you couldn’t remember any of them.

“Did I hit my head yesterday? I can’t remember anything at all,” you frown, whispering to Seungmin while Mrs Kim drones on about the cold war.

“Maybe,” he tries to suppress a giggle. “You sure were acting like you did.”

Yawning, you turn over the page of notes you were adding to, revealing a page of messily handwritten notes that definitely wasn’t done by you. The handwriting, for starters, was a messy scrawl that frequently sloped in a downwards direction and overstepped the neatly printed lines on the page. Completely done in black ink, without any highlighting or colour coding the rest of your notes had, you dismissed it as Seungmin writing in your book.

But Seungmin used blue ink almost religiously, and the handwriting didn’t match his. Why would Seungmin write ‘who am i?’ over and over in my book?

Your name was scrawled in the corners of the pages, as if you had forgotten it and needed the reminder.

“Y/n,” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Mrs Kim, who was handing out a worksheet. She smiles at you, “Ah, so you remember your name today?” Seungmin snickers beside you and you elbow him swiftly, effectively shutting him up. “Did you read my notes on your essay?”

You blush, embarrassed and guilty, “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t had the ti-“

Mrs Kim gives you a warm smile, “That’s okay. Let me know when you have.” She walks away, moving on to another student.

Seungmin leans closer to you, his eyes remaining on the teacher, “I’m surprised she didn’t mention the fact that you dodged her yesterday after class.”

“Huh?”

“She wanted to talk to you about the notes on your essay, and you completely ran out! Not as if you had any place to be; Mr Park was late to calculus again.”

“Oh. Oh, right,” you mutter, lowering your chin to the desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where the fuck is my essay?” You groan in frustration. Hyunjin, the poor soul whose locker is right beside yours, startles at your sudden outburst.

“Are you okay?” He shuts the door of his locker gently, leaning against it as he looks you up and down, concern on his face.

“Mrs Kim gave me an essay yesterday and I must’ve misplaced it.” Your locker isn’t exactly messy, so there are very few loose papers in there. A quick flick through the few documents stashed haphazardly in your locker proved it wasn’t in there.

“Don’t you have some intense filing system?” His eyes flicker down to the binder in your hand, dividers neatly sectioning off different parts. “Is it not in there?”

“If it were in here, I wouldn’t be searching my locker,” you mumble sadly. His eyes widen.

“Right... Seungmin has history with you, right?” Hyunjin’s attention shifts to something behind you, and he waves a hand, gesturing for someone to come over. “Hey, Seungmin!”

“Hey, dude,” Seungmin greets. “What’s up?”

“Y/n is missing a history essay,” Hyunjin helpfully explains. When Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow in thought, Hyunjin takes it as an opportunity to leave, and quickly departs down the hallway in search of his own friends.

“Didn’t you throw it away?”

“I don’t throw away my essays.”

“I’m pretty sure you did. After you walked out yesterday. I saw you put something in the bin,” his eyes flicker to yours. “I just assumed it was rubbish.”

You groan, pressing your forehead against Hyunjin’s locker, whining, “No.”

“I’m sure Mrs Kim would redo her notes if you asked her. You typed it, didn’t you? Just reprint it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you pout. He smiles warmly at you.

“You’ll be fine, Y/n,” Seungmin rests a hand on your shoulder, attempting to steer you away from the row of lockers and towards the cafeteria, closing your locker door with his foot. “But now, lunch.”

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

The rest of the day flies by and, before you know it, you’re in Seungmin’s car as he drives you home. The town rushes past you in a flurry of houses and small grocery stores, drive thru restaurants and gas stations, and you struggle to stay awake.

“Hey, sleepy head, you’re home,” Seungmin tries to suppress his laughter, giving you a light nudge. “Get out of my car.”

Groaning, you slump away from the door, clumsily finding the door handle and almost falling out of the car, “Fine! I’ll see you tomorrow, assface.”

“Yeah,” he smiles warmly. “See you then.”

The hours of the evening are mostly taken up with homework, as you try and get as much done as possible before the weekend. As it steadily approaches midnight, you find youself getting more and more tired, eventually getting to the point where you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. And from there, darkness consumes you.

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

RING! RING! RING! The alarm is loud and so annoying. You wonder why you chose to wake up to this, rather than your usual alarm, and turn to your side, fumbling around for the snooze button, your eyes still shut tight from exhaustion. Your eyes open when instead of hitting your bedside table or your alarm, your hand slams into a wall, eliciting a loud grunt from your mouth. For a second, you’re shocked at how deep your voice sounds, but your shock turns to fear when you realise you’re not in your bedroom.

You’re in a bedroom, but it’s certainly not your own. The walls are white, covered in posters and photos and a huge wall hanging that has plants growing out of small pots, leaves cascading down the wall. It’s homely, cute, but not where you expected to wake up – and due to that last fact, horrifying.

You clamber out of bed in search for your clothes, your shoes, your bag, anything that belongs to you. Unable to recall when or how you got here, you wonder if you’re hungover. But you didn’t go out last night - on a Thursday - you didn’t drink last night, and your head isn’t at all sore. Despite the lack of a headache, you still reach a hand up to your head, rubbing it. Your eyes widen at your hair – well, the lack of hair. It’s short, and you can feel the way it’s sticking up in all directions from sleep.

You rush to the mirror in the corner of the room, screaming when you realise you don’t look at all like how you normally look, and screaming louder when you realise your voice is so deep.

You’re a boy.

Ew, you think.

Wait, you look in the mirror. This is some crazy ass dream.

You take a look around the room, seeing the face in the mirror in the photographs, recognising the familiar brown hair and sparkling eyes. Reaching a hand up to touch your face, you push and pull the skin, watching it move in the mirror. You almost expected it to stay rigid, as if you were wearing a mask. This is so weird.

“Jaemin! Are you getting ready for school? Jeno’s going to be here in any minute!” A female voice calls from – presumably – downstairs, and you quickly look around the room. A uniform is hanging on the back of the door – one you don’t recognise – and you move to get changed, though something stops you.

You wait a second before responding, in case the voice was calling to someone in the house. When no one responds, you take a leap of faith, “Yeah! I’m getting dressed now!”

You look down briefly at the cold grey pyjama pants you’re – Jaemin’s – currently wearing, and take a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut as you pull the material down. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

You decide you have to open your eyes when you pull the school shorts on backwards (and you can feel that it’s backwards in ways you could never begin to explain as a girl) and try your hardest to think about anything else. You find the bathroom, which was thankfully located opposite the bedroom, and go about your normal routine as best you can.

The school bag slumped against the wall is empty, and you look around the desk for anything you might have to take with you, packing a few notebooks, a laptop, a pencil case (if you could call it that – it appeared to be a plastic bag with a few pens in it) and a water bottle.

“Hey, sweetie,” a beautiful woman greets you as you bound into the kitchen with a lot of energy. Why am I so hyper?

“Hey… Mum?” You cringe as the greeting comes out more like a question, hiding your face in the fridge.

Luckily, she just laughs. “I know, I know, I’m not normally in the kitchen.” She notices the way you scan the fridge, “Hey! Aren’t you and Jeno going to get food before school?”

You freeze, “Oh, um, yeah. We are. I’m just… browsing.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tonight, Jaem. Have a good day at school,” she kisses you on the top of the head, swiping her hand through your hair before leaving. You try your best to fix it, letting it flop down messily over your forehead.

Spotting an apple and a brown banana in a cracked dish on the counter, you slide the apple into your backpack and begin zipping it up when you hear a honk outside that almost makes you drop everything. You stop to listen, and two more honks follow. Confused, you wait. There’s the familiar sound of a car door slamming shut, and then you hear footprints on the front porch of the house. The doorbell rings.

The doorbell is monotonous, and you don’t wait for it to finish ringing before you pull the door open, instantly meeting the soft face of a boy your age, a confused look on his face. You’ve seen him somewhere, but you can’t place him. “Dude, I honked, like, three times. What’s going on?”

“Oh,” you say, dumbly. You surpise yourself by sounding even dumber with the question that follows, “Jeno?”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows draw nearer as he frowns at you. “Are you playing that ‘I don’t know who I am’ joke again?”

You force out a laugh, “No, I’m just messing with you.” You give him a light punch on the arm, trying to act like every douchebag guy you’ve seen in a high school movie. It’s tragic that you suddenly can’t recall how real boys act. “Let’s go,” you push past him, sighing in a way that makes it seem like he’s the one acting weird and not yourself.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but then he shrugs and heads back to his car, waiting for you to finish locking the house (after much confusion over which key it is).

Once you’re in the car, you pull out the phone that had been sitting beside the bed you’d woken up in and thought thankfully that there was a finger-print unlock feature. Quickly scanning through a few messages, you learnt that Jeno was probably Jaemin’s best friend - and you were in a few group chats; ‘the Bros’, ‘chemistry lab group’, ‘mark’s birthday plans’, ‘Mum & Dad’, and a few others.

“So, I was thinking, Hyuck’s having a party at his place tonight, right?” Jeno begins talking, and once you realise you’re going to have to go to this party, too. “Hyunjin is coming, and he’s bringing a few girls from his school – you know, that guy we versed in lacrosse a few weeks ago? His parents know my parents and – whatever, it’s not important. He’s bringing a few girls and I’m hoping that girl from the game is- Hey! Are you even listening?” Jeno’s eyes flit between you and the road, and you turn to him.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Did you ask him?” You’re dying to know if he’s talking about the Hyunjin you know – the real you knows – but you’re too self-conscious to ask too many questions, wanting to just get through the day with as little confusion as possible.

“Nah, I don’t really know the guy. He’s friends with Hyuck, though, I think, so maybe he’ll know.”

“Can you ask Yuck today?”

Jeno laughs, “Are you bringing back his middle school nickname? He’s gonna hate you so much for that. But I will, yeah. We have PE together today.”

He pulls into the parking lot of the school, and you vaguely recognise the school, maybe from posters or newspaper adverts, but you’re glad Jeno drove you because at least now you have someone to follow. And, you were unsure whether you’d been able to get to school without him.

You trail after Jeno through the main doors, but he clearly sees someone he knows, because he takes one look back at you before he runs off to catch them, “Catch you later, yeah?”

And it’s right then that it clicks; you know exactly where you’d seen him before: in your dream. You’d been here before. You’d seen him before. You’d been Jaemin before.

Fuck.

[causeimthesupernovaa]

Warm and Cozy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• Zuho + Female Reader

• Genre: Fluff

• Words: 1.4k

Summary: a sick you is taken care of by your brother’s best friend.

Your socks are soaked inside the sneakers, and it is the worst feeling ever. You are an idiot for sure. You've thought "I'll be back in a second, won't even need to put on any boots."

Right.

As if exclusively to laugh at your face, the sky had darkened and snow had started falling in abundance, both on your way going and returning. The three whole blocks.

You shake the green bag to get rid of the excess snow and enter the house, almost immediately dying of a heart attack.

"Goodness!" your hands go to you chest. "Juho, what are you doing over there in the dark?"

"Oh, hi, Y/N," he stands from the couch. "I know the door password, you know... I was waiting for your brother, but went in because of the snow. The power went out like five minutes ago."

"Oh," you stay still, not knowing exactly what to do. Embarrassingly, your body decides to cough at this moment. "So... make yourself at home."

You turn and start going up the stairs.

"You went out in those sneakers?"

You turn around slowly. Did he really have to continue the dialog? It was hard for you to look him straight in the eyes.

"I did."

Juho's forehead frowns.

"These days have been snowy. You could've got yourself a cold. Still can, actually."

An uncomfortable silence falls between you.

"I wasn't gone for long. I had to go to... buy some stuff," you weren't really going to explain to him you've gone out on a desperate mission to get some tampons.

You cough.

"Hmm."

Another silence. As you are kind of a coward, you take the opportunity and just start going up the stairs again.

You cough once more and enter your room.

Once again, you cough. You are looking through the window, seeing the snow coming down nonstop from the grey sky.

"Y/N," you hear Juho's voice from the corridor.

"Come in."

"Your brother said all the roads are closed due to the blizzard, so he won't be able to come home any soon," he says while opening the door. "So I'll be waiting he... Y/N, are you alright?"

You cough.

"Why do you ask?"

"You... look pale."

"I have a little headache, nothing more."

The older boy takes one step further and to your surprise, rests his hand on your forehead. You can feel chills from his touch.

"You're burning up," he looks at you serious. "Burning up."

"Eh... it's nothing," an inconvenient cough gets in the way of your argumentation.

"Right. You're coughing since you got home. You shouldn't have gone out in sneakers."

"I was already coughing yesterday though" you mumble, trying to defend yourself. 

Juho sighs.

"Lay down."

"What?" you ask.

"Lay down on your bed. You need to have some rest."

You cross your arms stubbornly.

"I won't lay down. I don't need it."

He makes a frown.

"Come on, it'll be better for you."

You sigh, tired of arguing.

"Just fifteen minutes."

"Alright," he nods. "Fifteen minutes."

You open your eyes confused and the first thing you see is that familiar pair of beautiful sharp eyes.

"Feeling better?" Juho asks.

You sit yourself up slowly.

"No. I think... worse."

The boy presses his lips together for a moment and then lays you down again gently over the bed. He puts his hand over your forehead.

"I think you really have a fever."

You felt like hitting him. Did he really have to be so close? Your disillusioned younger sister's heart who have fallen for her brother's best friend was pounding hard.

"I guess so," you don't know what to say.

Juho sighs.

"I'll get you some medicine downstairs. Oh, and just so you know, you've slept for almost an hour."

"But..."

The boy leaves the room. Why didn't he wake you up? It was supposed to be only fifteen minutes...

You contort under the covers. You were feeling so cold.

"I'm back," Juho enters the room and comes up to you with a pink pill and a glass of water in his hands. He kneels down next to your bed. "Can you sit up?"

You sit with a bit of a struggle.

"Here."

He offers you the objects and you swallow the pill. Your body was shivering.

"How long will it take to work?" you ask.

"Well... I think some forty minutes."

"Forty?" you repeat horrified.

Juho stares at you.

"Are you in much pain?"

"I am, but... I'm very cold," you say quietly.

The boy nods.

"Do you want me to get you more blankets?"

"There are no more. They're all in the laundry."

You lay yourself down again embraced by the covers. It was still freezing and you were trembling.

"You...," Juho pauses. "Do you want me to warm you up?"

You blink, not sure of what you've heard.

"What?"

"You don't need to if you don't want to," he says rubbing the back of his neck. He had turned his eyes away.

"Won't it bother you?"

"No... won't it bother you?"

"Oh," you close your eyes for a few seconds. "You can... can come up."

He shakes his head in agreement and climbs into the bed. Your body proceeds to freeze, and in the other meaning.

Juho lays down and wraps himself around you, holding your body with his warmth. The fear your heart could be heard all the way from Antarctica right now was very real.

He speaks suddenly.

"Do you want me to leave?" the boy asks in a worried voice.

"There's no need," you force yourself not to stutter. "It's nice..."

There was a hand.

It was caressing your hair in a very pleasant way. It was slow, but far from being lazy. You hold the body next to you a little tighter.

Wait.

Wait a minute!

You open your eyes carefully and see the black color of Juho's cardigan. Were you holding him while you slept?!

"Are you awake?"

You get startled and look up to his face. There's a little smile in there. You take a little too many seconds to answer the question because of it.

"Yeah," you simply say.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I a-am."

Juho resumes caressing your hair. Unconsciously, you adjust yourself onto his chest. You then realize what you were doing and immediately move away. Why were you like that?

"Don't be embarrassed," you lift your head and see a gentle smile on Juho's lips. "I'll take care of you today."

"Why... why are you doing all of this for me?" you ask.

"Isn't it the right thing to do?"

"It... well, it isn't really your style."

"I—" he starts and doesn't finish, and your eyes go wide. Were you really seeing that? The distant and introverted Baek Juho was... blushing? "I really like you, Y/N," he pauses, and you can't believe the words leaving his mouth. "You don't need to feel the same nor are you obligated to do anything... but for now, can I take care of you? I want you to get better soon."

If your eyes were wide before, they are now almost jumping out of your face.

"That's not true. You're lying."

"Why would I lie?" he asks. "If it was like that, I wouldn't have said anything in the first place."

"But... but... you've never looked at me."

Juho gives you a small smile.

"Because I was trying my best not to look. I'm not... very good at romantic relationships. I didn't want you to end up finding out on accident. But as I said, you don't have to do anything, don't worry."

You stare at him intensely, not knowing what to say. He looks away, his red cheeks adorable at your eyes.

You impulsively turn his chin to you and give his lips a little peck.

"Oh!" you blurt out, realizing what you've just done. "I'm so sorry, I forgot I was sick!"

Juho laughs. He laughs a sweet and delicious laughter.

You look at him a little confused.

"It's okay. Let's not kiss for now," he pulls you back into his arms, holding you firmly. "Don't worry," his smile is dazzling. "We'll have plenty of time to kiss later."

You return his hug and rest your head on his chest, blushing like crazy.

"You can take care of me," you look into his eyes shyly, but surely. "And not just for today."

Juho smiles, and as they say, the rest is history.

[chiaki-translation]

SSR Kazunari [Store Your Passion in the Details]: Backstage Translation

Kazu, please stop appearing as the Gacha SSR :’)

But as per usual, I clowned my way to get that card, so I should be translating that next. For now, back to what I got during revival, Kazu SSR from Shinobi Misadventuring.

Summary:

Kazunari’s delving into painting more than ever after he discovered his dream.

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber Entertainment

The Painter, Ninja, and Reality of Dreams 

Director:

Yawn…

(I’m sleepy… I’ve been coming back late at night these days to help other theatre troupes)

Morning~

Homare:

Oh, morning. You have such an amazing face today, Director-kun.

You’re spurring my imagination.

Director:

That’s not a compliment…

Azami:

…Director.

Director:

--

Azami:

…

Director:

(He’s staring at my face intently…)

I know what you want to say, you don’t need to say it.

Azami:

…Then, here.

Director:

Concealer…?

(It’s to hide my eye bag huh… To be handed this kind of thing silently, it’s such a complicated feeling…)

Thank you…

(I’ll make sure to get plenty of sleep when I’m done helping them)

Kazunari:

Ah! Wait! You can’t eat it yet!

Misumi:

Eh~

Kazunari:

Just a bit more!

Misumi:

I can’t take it anymore~

I want to eat Omi’s triangle sandwich.

Director:

What are you guys doing?

Tenma:

Kazunari is getting Misumi to model for his sketch.

Muku:

Recently, it seems that he’s been looking for more drawing materials.

Director:

He~, I see.

Kazunari:

Alright, I’m done! You can eat now!

Misumi:

Yeay~! Let’s eat!

Muku:

It was done in no time.

Yuki:

As expected of an art student.

Kazunari:

Hehe. What should I draw next~…

Director:

I guess, I’m going to eat some sandwich too.

Kazunari:

…

Director:

…Hmm?

Kazunari:

Director-chan, is it alright if I draw you too~?

Director:

!!

Now is an absolute no!

(I can’t let my eye bag to be in the picture…!)

Kazunari:

Eh~, too bad.

<Shifts to Corridor>

Director:

I’m home~…

(I’m pretty late today too… Everyone seems to be sleeping already, I should just go back to my room quickly)

…Hmm?

<Shifts to Balcony>

Kazunari:

Zzz..

Director:

Kazunari-kun…?

Kazunari:

Zzz…

Director:

If you sleep in this kind of place, you’re going to get a cold you know.

(…Ah, it’s his sketchbook. I wonder if he was drawing here.

Anyway, that’s an amazing amount of sketches…

This is… Tsumugi-san’s flower bed. This one is… Dancing Citron-kun and Hisoka-kun? Hisoka-kun looks so sleepy over here)

Fufu…

(I can totally picture this scenario in my mind. This one is…)

Kazunari:

…Hmm?

…Director-chan?

Director:

Ah, sorry for looking without permission.

Kazunari:

No problem~ It’s fine.

Director:

Are these all your recent sketches?

Kazunari:

Yep. I had so much fun when drawing that  I couldn’t stop myself~

Director:

I can tell that you’re having so much fun just by looking at you.

Everyone has such a lively appearance in your sketch too.

Kazunari:

Right~

Director:

It’s fine to chase your dream, but don’t force yourself.

If you sleep in this kind of place, you’re going to catch a cold.

Kazunari:

If you say so, Director-chan too isn’t it.

You just came back right?

Director:

Ahaha, you’re right. I don’t have the rights to tell others.

Kazunari:

Yawn~...

Director:

Make sure you’re back to your room.

Good night.

Kazunari:

Good night~

<End of Part 1>

Director:

Haa~ I’m so tired…

(I’m finally done helping out, I’m just going to get a good sleep now~)

<Shifts to Lounge>

Kumon:

The ninja’s so cool~!

Muku:

The production is so elaborate.

Misumi:

I want to try this kind of action too!

Director:

I’m home~

Muku:

Ah, Director-san, welcome back!

Yuki:

Welcome back.

Director:

What are you guys watching?

Kumon:

It’s a historical drama about ninja!

Yuki:

Just nice it’s being broadcasted on the television.

Tenma:

The production is really well done.

It might be a good reference for the rerun of our performance.

Director:

He~

Muku:

This story is a tragic love story between the ninja and the princess.

Yuki:

…Talking about that, what actually happened to the princess of Tanuki Castle in “Shinobi Misadventuring” at the end.

Director:

The young lord from the Crane Castle got married with the princess from Fox Castle right, isn’t she left broken hearted?

Muku:

No way! At this time, usually there will be a love story with another person in the spin off!

Tenma:

Another person?

Muku:

Yes. Maybe the heartbroken princess will finally realize Kiichi’s kindness who’s been staying by her side.

Yuki:

It came out, your Shoujo Manga brain.

Muku:

For example, Kiichi was trying to take responsibility for the princess’ broken heart and he would take the princess out to places as a distraction.

The tsundere princess’ heart will be healed due to the bright and friendly Kiichi…

On their journey, Kunoichi Sae will make a reappearance and she would finally realized her true feelings!

Director:

I, I see…

Yuki:

You actually daydream to that extent.

Kumon:

But somehow, it feels that it can really happen!

Tsuzuru:

That sounds interesting indeed, dinner is ready.

Misumi:

Yeay! I’m hungry!

Muku:

It’s hamburger!

Tsuzuru:

The triangular one will be Ikaruga’s.

Misumi:

Tsuzuru, thank you~!

Director:

That looks delicious… But, I kinda miss curry…

Let’s make curry tomorrow…

Yuki:

I thought you just ate that yesterday.

Tenma:

Let’s eat.

Tsuzuru:

Anyway, the story from before, Muku’s amazing to be able to think of such development to that extent.

Muku:

Ehehe…

Tsuzuru:

I’ve never written a cliché love story like that until now, it might be interesting to try something new.

Tenma:

We don’t have anyone to play the princess role isn’t it.

Director:

You’re right…

Yuki:

How about Kiichi’s solo performance?

Kumon:

It’s too lonely!

Director:

Speaking of Kiichi, where’s Kazunari-kun?

Tenma:

He’s been in the atelier since morning, it seems that he has something that he wants to draw.

Director:

I see.

(Then, I should bring over dinner to him later)

<Shifts to Atelier>

Director:

Kazunari-kun, I brought dinner over.

Kazunari:

Ah, thank you, Director-chan.

My hand’s full right now, you can leave it over there.

Director:

Yeah.

(I wonder if he’s drawing the pictures he has in his sketchbook…)

Kazunari:

…Hmm?

Director:

--

Ah, so, sorry. I shouldn’t distract you.

Kazunari:

Not at all! I’ll take a short break.

Let’s eat.

Director:

Earlier, Muku were making a love story between Kiichi and the princess of Tanuki Castle.

Their love will begin during the spin-off.

It seems that it’s going to be a love triangle with Kunoichi Sae too.

Kazunari:

Hee~, sounds pretty good!

Maybe I will ask Tsuzuroon to write it out in the script during the rerun performance.

Director:

There’s no one playing the princess role though, but maybe we can just take a short story out of it and perform it in the lobby.

Kazunari:

Yep yep!

<Short Time Skip>

Kazunari:

Thanks for the meal!

That was delicious~

Director:

Are you going to continue?

Kazunari:

Yep. I just need to sharpen it a bit more.

Director:

Is it alright if I observe you for a bit?

Kazunari:

Of course!

Director:

Thank you.

Kazunari:

…

Director:

(Woah… His facial expression changes instantly when he’s facing the painting…

It’s a different serious expression than the one when he’s performing a play.

It’s like a totally different atmosphere)

Kazunari:

…

Director:

(So Kazunari-kun looks like this when he’s drawing

It’s pretty silent…

I can see that Kazunari-kun’s concentrating)

…

<End of Part 2>

Director:

…Hmm.

???:

Princess?

Director:

…Kazunari-kun?

Kiichi:

What are you daydreaming about.

It’s Kiichi.

Director:

Kiichi…?

(What? Why am I wearing a kimono…

But anyway, where is this?)

Kiichi:

Are you okay, princess?

The thing with the young lord of Crane Castle is a bit disappointing but cheer up!

Director:

Eh, umm…

(Is this the continuation of the script?

Maybe I ended up seeing this kind of dream after listening to Muku’s story)

Kiichi:

Right! This lily is blooming in the mountain.

I’ll give it to you, princess.

Director:

…Th, thank you.

Kiichi:

…As I thought, I’m no good.

Director:

Eh?

Kiichi:

Princess has a very cute smile you know.

Why won’t princess smile again?

Director:

--

(Kiichi feels loose and bouncy in the main part of the story, but when it comes to romance, he suddenly looks quite cool…)

Kiichi:

I’ll do anything for the princess’ sake!

Princess, would you like anything?

Director:

Uh, umm… Curry maybe…?

Kiichi:

Cu, curry?

Director:

(Eh, I wonder if it doesn’t exist in this time period yet)

Kiichi:

Understood!

I’m going to look for this “Curry”!

Director:

Ah! It’s fine, that kind of thing!

Kiichi:

But, it feels so painful to see the princess in this state--

Director:

Kiichi-kun…

Kiichi:

What if, what I actually feel about princess--

<Shifts to Atelier>

Director:

--hn.

Kazunari:

Ah, Director-chan, you’re awake?

If you’re sleeping in this kind of place, you’re going to catch a cold~

Director:

…So, sorry, I was sleeping by the time I realized.

(What a weird dream I had…)

Ah, you gave me the blanket?

Thank you.

Kazunari:

I was thinking of carrying you back to your room, but my hand’s like this.

My bad.

Director:

(Woah, it’s full of paint)

Don’t worry about it.

Me too, even though you did your best painting, I ended up sleeping, sorry.

Kazunari:

Nah, actually you saved me. Thank you.

Director:

Saved you…?

Kazunari:

Alright, let’s wrap up for today~

Director:

Good work.

Kazunari:

Thank you for bringing the food earlier.

Director:

No problem. Then, good night.

Kazunari:

Good night~

<Shifts to Courtyard>

Director:

Yawn…

(I slept a bit just now, but I’m still very sleepy.

I took a bath already, I guess I should just go back straight to sleep)

…Hmm?

(A paper’s stuck on the door…)

This painting is… Kazunari-kun’s?

(It’s a portrait of a beautiful woman…  What a beautiful painting…

But wait, this outfit, isn’t it similar to mine…)

!!

(Is it me!?

No, but, isn’t it a bit too beautiful!?

Anyway, since when did he manage to paint this…)

Ah, something’s written on the back.

Kazunari:

“Your sleeping face is great, but Director-chan’s cute when smiling, next time, let me draw you properly, kay~”

Director:

--

(It’s overlapping with my dream somehow…  This is so embarrassing…)

Azuma:

Eh, Director?

Guy:

You’re just standing there, did something happen?

Director:

--Eh.

Guy:

Your face is red.

The estimated temperature is… 36 point 9 degrees. You are slightly heated.

Azuma:

Is that, a letter maybe?

Director:

No, nothing’s happening!

Good night!

Guy:

…?

Azuma:

Fufu, what is it I wonder.

<End of Part 3>

[danielletinybruiser]

Two Years of Blue

It's been a bit since I updated here, since I suppose I mainly use my instagram account to talk about jiu jitsu. But hey, I have a few things to mull over, which tends to go better in writing, so here we are. Content warning for weight on this one.

I've been a blue belt for two years! And what a wild two years — I did change up my gym, and then, hey, there was this pandemic that ground the world to a halt (and is still doing so). I was very, very lucky, since I was able to train with Viki pretty much the whole time. We had access to mats, and were able to train, and they taught me a great deal: a lot of gi stuff, a ton of leg locks (I never went for them, or defended them well, until I basically just rolled with them for a year), and so much detail in passing and retaining guard.

Viki is a long, lanky blue belt, and I like to think I taught them a bit too. Maybe. 

But of course, even with rolling during lockdown and tons of other cross-training, it took me awhile — really, a few months — to feel a bit more in the groove with jiu jitsu again. We started going back to limited, vaxxed sessions starting in March, and slowly started going back to the gym normally as everyone else got vaxxed up. I'm finally going 3-4 days per week, consistently. This past week, I think I trained grappling every day aside from Wednesday. It's mid-July, which means it's taken me that whole time to feel like I'm getting there.

I'm also competing again in just under two weeks, which has (as it typically does) lit a little fire under me to get my shit together. Or attempt to!

One thing that did help, certainly, was doing a lot of cardio the whole time, and  focusing on getting that to a good place. All winter I did a lot of running, and yes, here it is... a lot of indoor cycling on a [cough, whisper] peleton. I know this makes me a bougie asshole. I know. But the workouts — on the bike and very much on the treadmill — are actually great. The running workouts with at least two of the coaches are appropriate for actual competitive runners. I've done workouts there that were extremely close to things I did as a competitive XC athlete in college. Back when I was actually fast. Fast-ish. I'm not fast anymore. Not even a tiny bit.

But my running is much improved, and the cycling has been an incredible, incredible base for me. I'm routinely doing longer or more challenging rides on non-BJJ days, and then often a shorter ride (or one of the functional strength routines) on days I roll at the gym. My whole thing with it is doing hard cardio when I'm already tired, so I get very used to pushing through. Endurance has never been my problem, but I know that I get slower physically — and, far worse, *super* discouraged mentally — when I get tired.

Doing this much cycling has had a hilarious and, uh, probably obvious side effect: I actually put on a little bit of muscle. I went into the whole Peleton thing thinking "yeah, I'll do cardio twice a day, and lose that stubborn couple of pounds that make competing at 125 dicey in like a month, easy!" and, HA. No. 

What I did get, though, are leg muscles that don't fatigue as fast. I have much more power and energy than I used to, and, hand-to-heart, I don't think I was in bad shape before. It's just... better now.

That took a couple of weeks to accept, I'll be honest. I felt pretty dumb: of fucking course spending... let's say 8 hours a week doing HIIT or climb rides on a bike would build muscle. I’d gain some weight from that, naturally. But now, I'm honestly thrilled to feel comfortable and much stronger at 135 anyway. 

That's where I was always going to be for grappling industries (where there's a 120 and a 135, nothing in between), and where there are 125 lb classes... it's honestly ok. I have a healthy diet, I stick to it rigorously (with the occasional cheat day, ofc), I do cardio almost every day, and I feel good. Will I be a little shortie in this weight class? Of course! But at least I feel like a stronger little shortie, and that's what counts.

As with all of this, let me be clear, I have no delusions of grandeur. This is an awesome hobby that I'm obsessed with! But I only want to compete to learn and get better and do it all on a pretty comfortable level. I'm probably never going to fuck with the open IBJJF tournaments, or anything like that. Give me a nice submission-only tournament for scrubs like me. (Honestly, I wish everything was just submission only. Forever.)

There are actual, legit athletes who use the baby tournaments for a tune-up, and young folks who may become legit athletes who are learning to compete and deal with pressure, probably just because this is NYC and there are world-class gyms here and all that. This 37-year-old goofy white bitch just wants to get as good as possible, given the obvious constraints. And enjoy myself.

To this end, my friends, coaches, and training partners deserve medals for dealing with me. Berto and Jaime (my friends and coaches) have been patiently leading me towards things I need to work on. Viki will roll with me and give me things I need to do based on our roll, and we'll drill them right then and there. And Caroline has been instrumental in me getting my head at least part of the way out of my ass, just going for things. For months, I was rolling, but just playing defense. Just talking to her about it helped, and now, every time we roll, I have that voice in my head telling me to go for things. It's helping.

I just hope I can keep that in mind in two weeks. I get nervous. Really, really nervous. I've competed... this might be nine times? This will be my third blue belt tournament, anyway, and it'll be the first since... January 2020. My head is usually so far up my ass — especially at first — that I will probably make some dumbass mistakes. But I'm working on accepting that I'll feel like an idiot and to just have fun with it and use it to LEARN and find some new things to work on. Embrace the doofus and enjoy.  

Gym Feelings

I also got very, very excited about my gym yesterday. Right before going to a (fantastic) Women/trans/non-binary folks Judo class taught by a really great woman black belt, I went on about how much I love my gym. How inclusive it is, and how, just *not a toxic MMA culture* place it is. I'm just going to copy a bunch of that thread here, just absolutely gushing about Chop and Chops:

Today, in a couple of hours, I'm going to a women/trans/nonbinary grappling class at my gym, taught by a woman Judo black belt. I'm PUMPED.

It's really important to me that my MMA gym is an inclusive, positive environment for me and for everyone. MMA -- and especially Jiu Jitsu -- does NOT need to be a place dominated by bros with awful politics and horrific tattoos. It can be for anyone to enjoy.

The door to my gym has a trans-inclusive rainbow flag on it. The brothers who run it make sure that all women, trans folks, enbies, and any GNC folks feels especially comfortable and have dependable training partners for each class, especially if they are new.

Here's another thing -- its' an MMA gym, there are plenty of cis dudes! But said dudes are respectful and gracious. I feel safe training with them BECAUSE of the atmosphere and attitude of the place, that's certainly not true everywhere.

One of my favorite training partners rn is a very, very sweet bigger white belt due who wrestled at a high level. If you've done BJJ, "bigger white belt who wrestled" is typically the scariest thing. But he is an absolute gentleman, doesn't just throw his weight around...

he is conscientious and I am learning SO MUCH from rolling with him. Again, in another atmosphere, I might be intimidated. In our gym, people learn to train hard but modulate and always respect their training partners.

I know I'm gushing at this point, lol. But I really can't overstate how much that atmosphere of respect and inclusivity is important and makes a massive difference. I'm a small queer woman, training there simply feels great to me, and that's everything.

That's the thread! I can't say enough good things about this place. It's also honestly a refuge for me, a place where I see my friends (where we all hug very aggressively for a couple hours, then chitchat). I guess it all comes down to this: I'm so, so lucky to be a part of this community. I want everyone in the world to have something they love, and amazing people to support them in it/enjoy it with them.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hello deary, I have a request to make. Let's have a bit of fun with Arthur, yeah? Reader does that " Don't let your boyfriend kiss you " challenge on him. He does everything he can to get a kiss but the reader playfully avoids every attempt. You can have him come close to almost kissing her but she turns her head and has him kiss her cheek, and he gets upset but she finds it amusing, loving how worked up he gets for a kiss. He then asks what does he need to do in order to get one and she tells.

This one was fun to write, I enjoyed it! (But I did end up hurting my own feelings). Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Warnings: does fluff count? 

Arthur’s a funny man, there’s no question on that. He’s a very thoughtful man when it comes to trying to find ways to please you. There’s one problem though: he keeps trying to do things that are uncharacteristically him. He does things to make you happy that, while you enjoy them, he doesn’t. Unlike his ex Mary, you don’t want him to do things just to please you. 

The first few dates with him had been fine, a little odd as they always are with both people feeling incredibly self conscious. Despite you having been in the gang and been friends with him for a long time, he was so cute and nervous during that first date. He blushed and stammered a lot. Even now, You like flustering him, he always gets that embarrassed little grin and his cheeks go pink. 

You’ve kissed him, oh, probably a hundred times. However, your relationship with him is still in the dark as far as the others in camp know. You’ve played things very close to the belt, not wanting anyone to know just yet. Neither of you are really ready for anyone to know (Hosea does, but he’s been good on his word and hasn’t said anything). Both you and Arthur know now isn’t a good time for people to be worried about your relationship, what with being on the run from the law and Pinkertons breathing down your neck. It was hard enough hiding your desire to be physically close with Arthur up in Colter where it was so cold. It’s not much different here in Horseshoe Overlook. 

Arthur comes up to you just as you set out the morning coffee. He greets you and grabs a cup. 

“I was thinkin’ we could go to town today,” he says, setting down the percolator. “Maybe get you some new clothes or find a new book for ya.” He knows you love to read, but you also know that while he can read well, it’s not his favorite thing to do. 

“Or we can do something you like,” you suggest. It’s frustrating to watch him take care of everyone else, including you, and completely disregarding his own needs. 

“Nah I do plenty to keep myself occupied,” he says, sipping. “Like yesterday, when I came back from hunting. I had a good ol’ trip, met some interestin’ people.” 

“And that’s something you have fun with?” you say skeptically. “Arthur, you hate people.” 

He chuckles. “Well, I ain’t fond o’ most of ‘em, few are a’right.” 

“And hunting? I know the only reason you do it so often is to get away and get into the wild open. But I also know that can be terribly lonely. Not exactly what I call fun.” 

He smiles, his cheeks growing slightly pink. That’s how you know you’ve hit it on his head. 

“You know me too well for your own good,” he says. He checks to make sure no one’s looking then he bends down to kiss you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction though, so you turn your head and his lips meet your cheek. 

“Awe, come on, darlin’. Just a small one before everyone else wakes up,” he begs. 

“Nope, you gotta earn this one, Mr. Morgan.” You pat his shoulder and start walking off. He follows behind a few steps. 

“So how do I do that?” he says. 

“I ain’t makin’ it that easy for you, Arthur. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” 

He stops and just watches you walk away, his hands on his hips and he smiles. You know how to play him, but unlike his ex, you don’t use it to your sole advantage. 

Over the next few hours, he tries a few different tactics. He brought you your favorite flowers and even bought some expensive chocolates (both earned him another kiss on the cheek but not one he really wanted). He offered to go find a new book for you again, to which you just shook your head. He invited you on a hunting trip to West Elizabeth, which he knew you liked a lot. Your resolve almost crumbled when he asked you to go to Big Valley, bathe in the sun, pick wild flowers and herbs and then lie in the open starlight and watch the skies. Again though, it’s not something that will only benefit him. You want him to ask you to do something or go somewhere that will be for him. He needs to take care of himself. 

Just past noon, he finds you behind a wagon, hidden from sight of the others. He grabs your hand, taking you from your work. He tries to kiss you again, but you just dodge out his grasp with a playful smile. 

“Darlin’, I will do whatever you want,” he says softly. “Hell, I’ll walk into the middle of this camp and declare my love for ya right now. Is that what you want? I know you’re gettin’ tired of hiding.” 

You put your hands on your hips. “While tempting, Arthur, that’s not what I want. Have you really not figured it out yet?” 

He shakes his head and puts his hands up. “I gotta admit, no I ain’t figured it out yet.” 

You smile again. “Well, think back to our conversation this morning, it’ll come to you.” 

He just sighs and walks away. As he does, you hear him muttering something about the mysteries of women. 

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

It’s sunset and you’re sitting on the edge of Horseshoe Overlook on the cliff gazing out across the canyon and its river. You’re watching the first faint stars coming out as the sky grows darker. Arthur sits down beside you, having just finished his stew. 

“You gonna relinquish yet?” he asks with a smile. 

You grin back at him. “Never. You figured it out yet?” 

He just looks away, his lips stretched into a small smile. “Maybe. I ain’t too sure, not like my streak is good. But, I had an idea.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out his journal. You’ve never looked inside it, nor have you asked him since it’s no mystery he’s a very private man. He holds onto it tight and then undoes the straps. He flips it open to a page that has an incredibly detailed drawing of a piebald stag. He lets you inspect it, though you know he’s nervous. 

“I never knew you could draw, Arthur,” you say softly, admiring the strokes. 

“Just somethin’ Hosea taught me, and… I taught myself some too.” 

He hands the book to you and allows you to flip through the pages, even reading some of his entries. You admire his writing, he writes with a beautiful hand. You smile and look at him. 

“It’s beautiful, but why you showin’ me this?” 

“Because I love you. Because… I want to be able to be completely open with ya, darlin’. Hide no secrets, share my fears with ya.” 

This is big of him. There’s hardly a person in the world you truly knows the depth of Arthur Morgan. Even around Hosea, he plays the big dumb brute that many people see him as. You’ve known for a long time how sweet, gentle, intelligent and caring he is. In fact, he probably cares too much about the people in the gang. 

You gently close the book and hand it back to him. He’s so damn close to earning that kiss, but you feel as though he has more to add. He takes the journal and puts it back in his satchel. He lays his hand on yours and looks out across the canyon. 

“I was thinkin’,” he says slowly, “maybe tomorrow, you’d come with me. Help me find some… some colored pastels.” 

“What for?” you ask. He’s growing hotter. 

“I always wanted to experiment with ‘em, think they’d make my drawin’s better. It’ll be a trip though, probably have to go all the way down to Saint Denis to find ‘em. Valentine won’t have ‘em, I know that.” 

“Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to help you find something for you?” you say. 

He sighs and smiled, looking at you finally. “I guess I am. I know it’s selfish, but-” 

You cut him off with a kiss. Not one on the cheek or even on his hand like you’d done earlier. Right on his warm, slightly dry lips. His hand goes up to your cheek and he moves with you. After a moment, you pull away from him. 

“This is all I wanted,” you say. “It’s not selfish to take care of yourself just as well as you take care of everyone else, Arthur. You deserve to be loved too.”

He smiles, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “I don’t know what it is you see in me, but I’m glad you do.”

He hesitantly leans in, looking for another kiss, and you give it to him. He moves closer to you, moving you so you’re nearly in his lap. His strong arm winds behind you, his hand planting against your lower back. You loop your arms behind his neck, trapping him against your lips, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Neither of you care if anyone else sees you, tangled around one another like this. 

After a few moments, you pull away slightly breathless. You slide your hand over his cheek, feeling his scruff scrape your palm. He puts his hand over yours.

“I just want you to take care of yourself, Arthur. I love you, and you should love yourself too. I know you’re a good man, despite your mistakes and sins. You’re too hard on yourself.” 

He kisses your palm lightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without ya, honey. Probably end up dyin’ within the year if it weren’t for you.” 

You kiss him softly again. “That’s not happening on my watch.” 

He smiles. “Good, feels nice to have someone watchin’ my back. So we’ll go tomorrow when I get back.” 

“Get back?” you say, pulling away slightly. 

“I won’t be gone long. Just have to go collect another one of Strauss’s damn debts. From some do-gooder named Downes. I won’t be long.” 

“You better not be. Just as long as he doesn’t kick your ass. Know some of these debtors try to.” 

He grins. “If you’d seen this man, you know he won’t. There’s no way that man is takin’ me down.”

[prettypinklass]

I might start posting oneshots on here, like this one. Maybe.

The Queen's Songstress, the Songstress's Queen

Author: Pink

Word Count: 2513

Warnings/Notes: Fluff, Petra Works too Hard, orphans, Dagda OC, implied/mentioned racism, implied homophobia

Prompt: Paired Endings (Intertwined Destinies event from the Fire Emblem Amino)

~♡~

When she had first returned to Brigid, she had acted as a translator for her friend, who despite pleading to join her, knew nothing of the language. 

Now, years later, Dorothea could speak the common language of Brigid as easily as she could Fodlan's. 

"It's because you're such a good teacher, Petra," she teased, after Petra had praised her skills. 

Despite her grandfather's approval, the people of Brigid had been skeptical of their marriage at first. Dorothea's Fodlanese heritage didn't help. Nonetheless, they didn't argue. Their new queen was happy, and that was what mattered.

Now, years later, the people praised them as one of the best pairs of rulers they had. 

Queen Petra worked tirelessly to improve their relationship with Fodlan after declaring independence. Her wife, the Lady Dorothea, used her connections with the Opera to help. It was hard work, but they succeeded eventually. 

Now, Petra lived her life working tirelessly to help her citizens. Everyday she could be found holding public hearings to address their problems, or in her room, signing paperwork, and on some occasions in a meeting, dealing with the other nobles. It was tiring work, but she would endure it for her kingdom.

Dorothea had built an Opera house in the capital city of Brigid, after extensively studying the nature of Brigid's fine arts and music. She ran the place on her own, wrote their plays, and held weekly singing practices that were open to all, where people could gather and and sing together. Her troupe became famous throughout not only Brigid, but Fodlan as well, eventually even receiving audiences from Dagda and Almyra. 

Today in particular had been a hard day. 

The queen had visitors not only from Fodlan, but from Almyra and Dagda as well. The meeting had been… tiring, to say the least. Seeing an old classmate again after so long on strictly professional terms had been… difficult, the man from Almyra was beefy, and loud, which was a stark contrast to the noble from Dadga, who was posh and professional.

Petra had collapsed into her desk chair after the meeting.

Dorothea had been laying on their bed, humming. Her day had been rough as well, having to deal not only with racist participants in the day's open singing practice, but also guide visitors from the foreign countries in the song. Though she had seen one familiar face, it had still been… difficult.

She jumped up when Petra entered though, before her face fell. The queen had sat down at her desk, and immediately reached for her paperwork. 

"Petra…" the singer stood up with a small sigh, walking over, "Come on, you need to get some rest." 

"I don't have time for rest," Petra replied, "I must get this work done…" 

"Love, you're exhausted…" Dorothea sighed, resting her hands on the queens shoulders and  beginning to rub slowly, "Why don't you take a break? Let me sing for you." 

She hesitated, "Are… you sure? I must get this paperwork done…" 

"You can do it later," the songstress insisted, "Take a break, love. You need one."

Petra frowned at her, shifting to face her wife. Dorothea smiled reassuringly at her, and smiled wider when the queen began to relax, "I have a day off tomorrow…"

"You can finish the paperwork first thing tomorrow, and then we can go out together."

It was quiet for a moment.

Petra sighed, and stood up as she gave in, "Okay… Will you sing for me, Thea?" 

"Of course," Dorothea smiled even brighter in response, and pulled her wife over to the bed. The two laid next to each other, as she hummed softly. 

"What song would you like me to sing?" 

"No preference." 

"Hmm… okay," Dorothea sat up, and began humming. The humming went on for a few moments, changing pitch and tune to match a song, and then…

"Reach for my hand," she began to sing softly, "I'll soar away. Into the dawn, oh, I wish I could stay." 

Petra rolled over and smiled at her. 

"In cherished halls, in peaceful days, I fear the edge of dawn… knowing time betrays." 

Her voice was soft, soothing, and before long… the queen had fallen asleep. 

And when she had finished the song, as she was never one to leave something half done, Dorothea fell asleep too.

~♡~

As promised, Petra finished her paperwork early, and Dorothea had dragged her off to see the town shortly afterward. 

People waved as they passed by, and the pair waved back happily. Brigid's capital really was a lively and friendly place.

Just after noon had come, Dorothea brought her wife to the opera house. There was a public singing session today, and even half an hour before it started, people were beginning to gather. 

A certain indigo haired woman was there already, looking around. Dorothea smiled. 

"Shamir!" 

Shamir looked up, and grinned, "Well well. We meet again, kid. Your Majesty," she bowed to Petra, "To what do I owe this pleasure?" 

Petra fumbled for words. She still wasn't the best at Fodlanese…

"This day- er, Today, is my free day. I am not having work to do." 

"Lucky you," Shamir replied, "It's good to see you both again." 

"Am I assuming you came with the Dagda noble?" Petra asked. 

"Fodlan actually," she shrugged, "Mercenary life gets me plenty of jobs. Just so happened I was in town, and the lord was looking for a suitable guard." 

"Interesting," the queen hummed. 

"Are you here for choir?" Dorothea asked, tilting her head to the side with a happy smile. 

"I guess so. Lord Aegir wanted to come and I'm kind of obligated to follow him everywhere unless he specifically says so," Shamir shrugged, "He's talking to some of the singers, along with that guy from Almyra. Nader or something." 

"You didn't tell me Ferdie was the visiting noble!" Dorothea turned to pout at Petra. 

"It never came up," Petra admitted, laughing a little.

"Anyway, I'm going to go find something to do… singing isn't my thing." 

"You joined yesterday," Dorothea blinked at Shamir.

"I was exploring town and got caught up in it somehow," Shamir sighed, "Lord Aegir's over there if you want to talk to him." 

"Alright then… bye!" The songstress waved. Petra waved as well. 

The pair turned, and walked over to the ginger haired noble. 

"Ferdie!" 

Ferdinand turned, and broke into a huge smile, "Dorothea! The ugly maiden!" 

Everyone paused to stare at him. 

Someone in the back began snickering. 

"Uhh…" 

"Ferdie," Dorothea frowned, "Um… Do you know what 'aklos' means Brigid?" 

"Why, I was told it meant lovely!" Ferdinand replied, smiling brightly, "Impressive, right?" 

Dorothea began giggling, as Petra sighed. 

"Ah, Ferdinand… The Brigidian word for 'lovely', is 'akLAS'. Aklos is our word for ugly." 

The noble blinked. 

His face turned pink. 

"B-by the goddess! Please, accept my sincerest apologies!" He bowed, "I have been tricked it seems…" 

"Don't worry about it," Dorothea laughed, "Are you here for choir?" 

"Why yes! I heard from Manuela that you run your own opera house here! She misses you by the way, and is hoping to one day collaborate with your opera." 

"Oh, I would love to! I'll have to send a letter to her!" Dorothea exclaimed happily, "Thank you Ferdie!" 

"But of course! It is my duty to assist!" 

One of the actresses, a young woman, called over, "Miss Dorothea! We're ready to begin!" 

"Oh! That's my cue," Dorothea smiled, and giggled slightly, "Have fun Love," she pecked Petra on the cheek, and waved at Ferdinand, before running up to join the singers at the podium. 

Choir was always a joy for Petra to attend. Not only did she get to hear her wife's beautiful voice, but the act made her feel… closer to others, not only to her Dorothea, but to her citizens as well. The same citizens loved it when she would join them as well. 

Ferdinand sang loudly, and he sounded well enough. Nader on the other hand, sounded like a dying bird. The look Dorothea gave him at the end of the first song would've scared the pants off of even the most fiercest soldier.

He ended up being asked to sing... quietly, so that the others could be heard over him.

Even Shamir participated, though at the request of Ferdinand. She seemed to enjoy herself though, if only for one song. 

It seemed like only a few minutes later when choir ended, though it had been at least an hour. 

"You were great Petra!" The songstress quickly began gushing, "Even better than before!"

"You're making me blush Thea," Petra laughed in embarrassment, "You sounded much better than I did." 

"Even so," she giggled, "Well, what would you like to do now?" 

"Why don't we visit the orphanage?" 

"Sounds like a wonderful idea," Dorothea replied, "Let's head there now, and then we can be home in time for dinner." 

"Right," the queen nodded, and after saying goodbye to Ferdinand and Shamir, they began walking to the orphanage.

~♡~

The orphanage was as lively as ever.

Though the place was small, and the only residents were a few children and their caretaker, it was always lively. The children were often running around and playing together, making noise and sometimes causing chaos. The 4 of them were quite the handful for their caretaker, but they managed. 

A jingle sounded as they entered. 

"Just a moment!" Came a call from the back. A few seconds later, the caretaker appeared, carrying a box. 

"Oh!" She gasped, "Your Majesty, Lady Dorothea! What a pleasant surprise!" 

"Hello Chey," Petra smiled, "We came to visit." 

"The children were just wondering when they would be able to see you again," Chey laughed, smiling, "Children! You have a visitor!" 

Light footsteps were heard immediately. The quick pitter patter of small feet echoed in the building, as a group came tumbling out of the bedrooms.

First came Fiona, a 7 year old. She was quickly followed by the 8 year old, Darrell, who stumbled and tripped onto her. Fiona squealed.

Lily came next, the oldest at age 11, "Hey! Be careful, I'm holding Harry!" 

Harry let out a "Bubba!" and burst into giggles. He was the youngest of the four, being just barely a year in age. Fiona and Darrell fumed at each other.

"Now now,' Chey frowned, walking over to them, "Don't get into a fight. Look who came to visit!" 

"Kween Petwa! Dorufea!' Harry babbled excitedly, "Petwa and Dorufea! Yay!" 

"Q-Queen Petra! Lady Dorothea!" Lily gasped, and did a quick bow still holding the toddler, "It's a pleasure to see you again!" 

"Petra! Dorothea! Hi!' Fiona brightened up quickly and waved. 

"Idiot, it's QUEEN Petra and LADY Dorothea! Don't forget your manners!" Darrell hissed at her. 

"What do titles matter?" She crossed her arms with a huff.

"A lot!" 

"How?" 

"Because-" 

"That's enough," Chey sighed, "No fighting. Apologize to Her Majesty and Lady Dorothea." 

The pair glared at each other. She nudged them.

Darrell was first. 

"I'm sorry Queen Petra, Lady Dorothea…" 

"Sorry…" Fiona mumbled quickly just after him. 

Harry babbled something that nobody understood. Dorothea laughed, and took him from Lily. He squealed happily, and pulled her hair. She winced, but laughed. 

"Your apology is accepted, little ones," Petra knelt down to smile at Fiona and Darrell, "It is a pleasure to see you again." 

The two smiled brightly at her in response. 

"What do you say?" Chey prompted. 

"Thank you Queen Petra!" The two chorused, before running off into the back playfully shoving each other. 

"Ah…" the caretaker watched them run off, "I'll have to scold them later… I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry about it," Dorothea laughed, "You seem to be handling them well." 

"Ah, well… I'm not quite sure how I ended up with four of them. I picked up Lily off the streets and since then… Well I haven't been able to say no to them like that," the caretaker laughed softly, "Will you be staying for a visit your Majesty? Lady Dorothea?" 

"Please?" Lily added with a smile. 

Harry babbled and giggled happily. 

"I'm sure we can stay for a little bit," Petra nodded. 

"Of course," Dorothea smiled brightly, "It would be a pleasure." 

Lily cheered, and Harry babbled. The royal pair followed her into the backroom with a laugh. 

~♡~

The meeting room was silent. 

Dorothea suppressed a sigh. Shamir glanced at her from across the room.

"...and that is why I believe we should cut off trade entirely. I don't mean to be accusing, but recent affairs have proven my suspicions." 

The noble from Dagda would not shut up. He kept going on and on about how Fodlan's recent battles proved them unstable, and their rocky relationship with surrounding areas didn't help. 

"Lord Hanth, please," Ferdinand sighed, "I can assure you with 100% positivity that Fodlan is unified in all ways. I ask that you please refrain from this incessant blabbering about us being unstable, when it is not backed up by factual evidence." 

Hanth scowled, "Of course you would say that, Lord Aegir. You're FROM Fodlan-"

Petra sighed, "Lord Hanth, with all due respect, I can fully support Lord Aegir's claims as witness. Dorothea and I were present for the unification of Fodlan." 

"That is not the only issue!" Hanth snapped, "Her, for example!" He pointed at Shamir, "Why is a citizen of Dagda-"

"I'm from Dagda, yeah," Shamir crossed her arms, "I came to Fodlan as a mercenary. Lord Aegir hired me." 

Ferdinand raised an eyebrow at the Dadga lord.

"We were invaded once-" 

"You started that fight," Dorothea pointed out.

He scowled, "I refuse to do trade until both Fodlan and Brigid have proven their stability. With that, I believe this meeting is over." 

He turned and stomped out. 

"...Geez," Nader sighed, "What a guy." 

Dorothea jumped. She had forgotten about the Almyran general. 

"General Nader, thoughts?" Petra looked over. 

"I got no problem with trade, long as Fodlan doesn't interfere with our merchants," the general shrugged, "Might have to double check with the king on that though." 

"I see. In that case, do what you must," she nodded. 

"...Shamir, are all the nobles from Dagda like that?" Ferdinand asked. 

"Dunno," Shamir shrugged, "I haven't been there in years." 

"Well," Dorothea sighed, "I suppose not trading with Dagda isn't too much of a loss…" 

"I am sure we can manage," Petra nodded, "Ferdinand? Are you confirming a trade with Brigid?" 

"But of course!" Ferdinand smiled, "And I hope we can establish trade with Almyra as well!" 

"Hah! Sounds good!" Nader laughed. 

"Shall we shake on it then?" The nobleman asked. 

"Yes," Petra nodded, and held out her hand. She shook with Ferdinand, then Nader, and then the two shook hands with each other.

It was agreed. 

Ruling a country that once was a vassal to another wasn't easy. Especially not when there were relationships she had to repair with other kingdoms, but maybe… just maybe, she could do it. 

As long as she had Dorothea, the person whom she is said to have loved the most, standing at her side.

~♡~

[artificialqueens]

Stupid For You, Chapter 4 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

summary: Jackie has to address her actions from the party, while Gigi has to process feelings she’d rather not. Also, if you aren’t familiar with speaking on radios, 10-4 means affirmative.

Gigi spent the rest of the day in bed. After crying until her eyes were red and puffy, she sat in bed trying to process everything. Crystal had a boyfriend. A boyfriend. When she shut her eyes, all she could see was the blonde boy and Crystal kissing. All Gigi could do was think about their relationship. How did they meet? Who asked who out? Have they slept together? Were they in love? Was it serious? She then pictured them doing gross romantic couple things. The thought of Crystal and that boy going to a pumpkin patch and picking out a pumpkin while sharing hot apple cider made her heart sink. Gigi pictured the two of them at prom, his tux matching her dress, dancing the night away. After breaking her heart with more scenarios, she forced herself to stop thinking so hard about it.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. Gigi thought about how beautiful and carefree Crystal looked… She thought about the way her face lit up when she won beer pong. She started thinking about the two of them dancing… The way Crystal’s hips swayed against her… Gigi’s mind wandered to when Crystal changed in front of her.

Never had Gigi Goode seen anyone’s bare chest but her own. She bit her lip as she pictured Crystal topless, while stroking her own breast, while her other hand trailed downward… She knew it was a bad idea, so she forced herself to stop. Gigi sat up in bed, trying desperately to clear her head.

Her next thoughts were about Crystal’s sexuality. Was she straight? With the way that she acted around her, Gigi was almost certain that she wasn’t. There was no way. But what if she was? What if she was reaching, and everything Crystal did was completely reasonable for a friend to do?

Back when Nora lived at home, Gigi watched her older sister get her heartbroken many times. Nora, much like Jaida, got extremely invested extremely quickly. One time when she was fourteen and Nora was eighteen, Gigi watched her big sister cry over some boy on the debate team. It had been the second time that month. Gigi, who had finally had enough told her sister to stop being so stupid for him.

Now she was trying to tell herself to stop being so stupid for Crystal. Four years later, Gigi understood that her words were much easier said than done.

Gigi just hoped to God that she would be able to keep it together the next morning.

“Hello, my love!” Crystal said cheerfully handing an extremely unenthused Gigi a coffee mug.

Gigi forced herself to snap out of it. It’s not like Crystal was shattering her heart into a million pieces and then torching them on purpose.

Crystal looked at Gigi. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired.”

“Gotcha. I feel you. Me and Ryan went hiking yesterday. Hiking isn’t fun hungover. It’s not very much fun to begin with, but especially not when you’re hungover, but I promised him I’d go.”

This was her chance. “I didn’t know you even had a boyfriend.”

“Yeah! We’ve been together since freshman year of high school. I guess I’m just not the type of person to gush about her boyfriend.”

“That’s so… sweet,” Gigi managed through gritted teeth.

“I really love him. This is so lame, but we won homecoming king and queen.”

“Awe, cute.” Gigi could hear her the insincerity dripping from her voice. Thankfully Crystal couldn’t.

“He’s really the best. I think you guys would get along really well.”

Yeah, right.

Gigi hesitated. “Why don’t you ever post pictures with him?” Because of the many nights spent stalking Crystal’s social media, if there was any mention of a boyfriend, she would have known.

“Honestly?” Crystal began. “He doesn’t really like to take pictures. He’s very anti-social media. Ryan is low key a conspiracy theorist. Almost every day he tells me to delete my social media because now North Korea has my information or something.”

“That’s so… interesting.”

 What about you, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Did you just not want one or…”

Gigi trusted Crystal, but didn’t trust her enough to tell her everything about her. Not yet. “I think that I’m afraid to let people in.”

“Really?”

She sighed. “Ever since my dad, I’ve had a hard time trusting anyone. Abandonment issues and shit.”

“I am so sorry.”

“I guess I just look at as what’s the point of dating if they’re just going to leave anyway?”

Crystal held her hand on top of Gigi’s and looked at her with a face full of sincerity. “I’ll never leave you.”

“Thank you,” Gigi managed in just above a whisper.

“You know too much about me. I like you, and really don’t want to have to kill you.”

—

Jackie was one to always be on time. However, she was not one to be an extra half an hour early. But, she knew that Jan was opening, and aimed to avoid the blonde at all costs. Unfortunately for Jackie, when opening her locker, she saw blonde hair and a purple backpack out of the corner of her eye. As much as she hoped she wouldn’t, Jan made her way over.

“Jackie, hi. Do you want to talk about… it?”

“I’d prefer to not if that’s okay,” Jackie said shoving her bag inside of her locker.

“Jackie, don’t shut me out. I know that it probably isn’t like you to do something like that, but it happened. It happened, and you can’t take it back. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I really value and respect you as a person. I don’t know why you freaked out, especially because kissed me first. I’ll give you space if you want space, but please. Talk to me when you’re ready.” She walked away without waiting for a response.

For the rest of the day, Jackie couldn’t focus. She was team lead that day, and almost forgot to send Nicky on her break. While in tower, all Jackie could think about was Jan. She had no idea why she couldn’t shake the blonde from her head. Even though she dated boys all through school, she never felt strongly toward any of them. She slept with her boyfriend in junior year, but broke up with him right after, because she felt nothing toward him. There was something different about Jan. Jackie felt things toward Jan that she thought she was supposed to feel to her boyfriends. The keyword being boyfriend. Being gay was out of the question for Jackie. Her entire life, both of her parents that being gay was immoral and disgusting, something Jackie never understood. It was up until she met Jaida her first summer at Paradise Isle before she even met a gay person. As Jackie looked at the monitors from tower, she tried to reassure herself that she definitely wasn’t gay, and that Jan was just pretty. Even if she knew it wasn’t true.

Finally, it was time for her break. Jackie looked around, making sure that Jan wasn’t also on her break. Thankfully, she was in the clear. Jaida was sitting at a table by herself eating a salad.

“Hey, girl,” Jaida said as Jackie sat across from her.

“Jaida. I have a problem.”

“Is that problem a pretty blonde girl named Jan?”

“How did you know?”

“What do you remember about the party?”

“I kissed Jan. Like. I initiated it, apparently. But it was just one kiss right?”

“Ooh, chile. No, you guys were making out. For a while. Everyone saw. You were grabbing her ass and everything.”

Jackie buried her head in her hands. “Oh, no.”

“Have you seen her today?“

“Yeah, this morning. She tried to talk to me, but I wouldn’t listen. She agreed to give me space… I can’t hold this off forever, Jaida.”

“No. You can’t. You know what y’all need?” Jaida questioned.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I’m not taking Jan onto the Ferris wheel.”

Because Paradise Isle was mostly ran by people who were all around the same age, there were plenty of relationships, flings, and conflicts. When any problems arose, it was customary to go into the Ferris wheel to resolve any issues. The parties in question would ride until they either they resolved their issues, stormed off angrily, or ran away crying. It wasn’t something management allowed, but the supervisors knew how much conflict it resolved, so they let it slide. Jackie had never had to take any rides in the Ferris wheel. Jaida, however, took at least one a summer. Her second summer she took three.

“If you don’t take her, I’m going to shove your skinny Persian ass into that ride. I’ll drag Jan by the hair if I have to. You are going to talk this out. Okay?”

Jackie grumbled. “I guess.”

“Tell Jan to meet you at the Ferris wheel. The Genie closes early tonight for maintenance, right?”

Jackie nodded.  Once a month, The Genie closed a half an hour early for maintenance, which made it the perfect night.

“Okay, perfect. Jan’s stocking tonight, so it’ll be easy for her to slip away.”

Jackie’s heart beat fast as she tried to come up with what to text Jan. She reread it twice and made Jaida read it, too before she sent it.

Hey. I’m really sorry. Can we talk? I’ll be at the Ferris wheel at close.

Jan responded almost immediately.

ill see you then

“How did she respond so fast?” Jackie questioned.

“Stockers do whatever they want. Anyway. My break’s over. Let me know how it goes.”

“Will do.”

—

Gigi couldn’t stop thinking about Crystal. It didn’t help that she was in the slowest store, at the slowest time of the night, all by herself. Nobody wanted to buy overpriced, blurry photos of themselves on rides. She debated calling Jan because she was bored, but decided against it, since Jan was going to be by soon to close the store.

“Hey, gorg,” Jan said as she made her way inside.

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“’Hey.’” Jan mocked Gigi’s depressed tone as she started shutting down photo monitors.

“Promise you won’t tell?” Gigi felt like she was in middle school saying that sentence.

“Pinky promise.”

Gigi linked pinkies with Jan while emptying the register. “So me and Crystal got super close super quickly, I’m sure you saw.”

“Yeah, of course. She’s a sweetheart.”

 “Yeah she is. Anyway. I started feeling…. Feelings toward her. Do you follow?” Jan nodded. “And honestly, I thought she felt the same way… She spent the night at my house after the party and literally cuddled with me.”

“Oh wow, really?”

“Yeah. So here I was, thinking that she felt the same way. Turns out I was completely wrong. Get this, she gets picked up from my house by her boyfriend.”

“Oof.”

“Oof, indeed.”

“Well,” Jan said. “Have you thought about telling her?”

“Absolutely not.” Gigi finished putting the rest of the money in the locked bag. The two girls headed out of the store.

“Why not?”

“What good is it going to do?”

Jan slammed the gate in front of the store shut as they left.

“Would it give you any sort of peace of mind?”

“I mean, maybe. But what if it ruins everything? It’s not like she’s gonna break up with him on the spot to date me. Why would–”

They were interrupted on their way to the money room by an older woman.

“I’m supposed to meet my family at The Landing. How do I get there?”

Jan smiled kindly. “Ma’am you’re on The Landing right now.”

“I am? Where’s my family?”

“Can’t help you with that ma’am, hope you find them!” Jan walked away before the woman could continue.

Gigi rolled her eyes at the woman. “Why would I risk the friendship? I’d rather have her in my life as my friend than not at all.”

They reached the money room, where they were greeted by Nina. After handing her the locked money bag, they made their way to Isle Mercantile’s stockroom to help close.

“At the end of the day, it’s up to you. I can’t tell you what to do. It’s not an easy situation, and it doesn’t have a clear answer. I’m sorry Gigi.” Jan hugged Gigi.

“Thanks, Jan.”

Jan. “Oh shit. I’m late.”

“Late for what?”

“Jackie wants to talk about… things.”

“Good luck.”

—

The rest of Jackie’s workday went by disgustingly slow. At least she spent the rest of her shift at Load 1, which meant that she ran back and forth checking lapbars, and then engaging her console. It kept her busy and kept her mind off of Jan, at least for a while.

Once her shift ended, Jackie changed into the clothes that she had in her bag, old jean shorts, and a t-shirt with her university’s logo, desperately wishing that she kept cuter spare clothes. Close to closing, all attractions on The Boardwalk had a short wait. When she got there, a slightly unusual girl named Yvie was operating the ride. Jackie didn’t know Yvie well, but remembered that the year prior, Yvie had to ride the wheel with a girl named Scarlet.

It was five minutes after close. All Jackie could do was think about what a big mistake she made until she saw Jan running full force down The Boardwalk. “I’m so sorry! I was mending a broken heart.”

“Good luck,” Yvie said as they went up.

Jackie and Jan didn’t say anything at first.

Finally, Jan broke the silence. “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret kissing me?”

Jackie sat, methodically constructing her answer. “No. No, I don’t.”

“Well why did you freak out then? I hope you know that you really fucking hurt me, Jackie.”

This made Jackie’s heart break. Knowing that she caused such a kind soul hurt killed her. “Jan, I am so, so sorry. That is the last thing I wanted to do. I just need you to know one thing.”

“What?”

“It had absolutely nothing to do with you… Honestly my entire life my parents told me being gay was bad, and I didn’t think I believed them, but maybe part of my subconscious did. Not that at all is an excuse for my behavior. The thought of liking a girl the way I was told I was supposed to like boys freaked me the fuck out.” 

They reached the platform.

“Again?” Yvie asked.

Jackie nodded.

“Gotcha.”

“I never even considered the fact that I could be gay. And then I met you, and you’re so confident in who you are.”

“Confident in who I am? Jackie, I’ve never labelled my sexuality. I dated a couple boys in my time, but also hooked up with a girl on my soccer team. I just know that if I like someone, I like them. I don’t really think anything beyond that matters, not that I haven’t had late nights where I couldn’t stop thinking about how confused I was.”

Jackie was surprised. Jan seemed so sure of herself, so it was unusual to imagine her being unsure about anything. “Really? You seem so confident about literally everything.”

“Do you wanna know a secret? Most of it’s fake. My mom used to always tell me ‘fake it til you make it,’ and I guess it stuck.”

They reached the bottom again. Yvie looked at them and Jackie nodded.

“10-4.”

They started rising again.

Jackie exhaled. Her heart was pounding. It was now or never. “I’ve dated boys all throughout school. I slept with one of them. And honestly, Jan? I felt more when I kissed you the other night than I ever did when I was with any of them, and I was drunk… Jan, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the party. I think about how you light up every room you go into. I think about how pretty you are when you smile. I keep thinking about kissing you again.”

“Wow.”

“And I’m sorry if that’s strong, but I just need to tell let that off my chest and I understand if–”

Jan didn’t let Jackie finish. Instead, she grabbed her shirt and kissed her. If Jackie thought kissing Jan drunk was nice, kissing her sober was incredible. Their lips moved in perfect synchronization. Jackie was used to boys who led with the tongue. Instead, Jan’s kisses were gentle, yet powerful. Jackie unconsciously moved her hand through Jan’s soft hair. Eventually, Jan broke the kiss.

“Is that okay that I did that?”

Instead of answering, Jackie pulled her into another kiss. At this point, they reached the top.

“I really like you, Jan. I don’t really know how to process that information, but I know that I like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you, too. We can take it as slowly as you want. I want to see where this goes. I think we have something good here.”

“I think so, too.”

Jan rested her head on Jackie’s shoulder the rest of the way down.

Yvie looked in at them.  “You guys good?”

Jan smiled. “Never better.”