#I fkn knew that voice sounded familiar

[flourishing-toxicity]

NO ONE WAS GONNA TELL ME NOSHIR DALAL IS RAIN???

[silent-raven13]

P FKN R!!! 🇵🇷 (Warning Harsh Language!)

Miles is always proud of his Puerto Rican side. Hell, he's the first one in Spider Society to burst out his Boricua music out loud. He wears his flag on his back when there's any Puerto Rican holidays or parades. Hell, he made a special suit with the Puerto Rican flag on it when he felt like showing off his culture, his Pride!

Yet today a racist asshole test him! Miles flew in the air using his venom strike, absorbing energy to give him a boost to do a flip before launching his webs to swing! The 19 year old wore his black, and red suit with the Puerto Rican flag on his chest to his torso.

Miles blasting Bad Bunny song "P FKN R" as he sings out loud as he swings from building to building: Si no sabes de dónde soy, no me ronquen, no -getting pump as he fight a rodder trying to steal from an elderly woman- Si no sabes de dónde soy, eh-eh, (ey) eh-eh, (ey, ey, ey)! -he beats up the robber as he give the purse back to the older woman before going up in the air to look for more crimes-

He sings along to his music: Yo soy de P fuckin' R (hoo)! -bangs his head as he swings- WHOA! Bad Bunny, you know me so well! -he chuckles as he went on a building keeping watch on the City's mainstream. The roads were closed off for Puerto Rican Day parade, he knew he needs to be home early to celebrate with his family. His mom took the day off for this occasion. Little Billie is probably wearing a cute dress with the Puerto Rican flag and her hair with ribbons matching the flag's colors- I should get a closer look to see if everything is good! -he saw the parade is about to start, so he should make sure no hate crimes were gonna be committed-

A familiar voice: Luv, what are you wearing? -Miles turns around to find Hobie standing behind him-

Miles happily smiles underneath his mask to find his boyfriend: OH hey, bae! -he went to hold his partner's hand- I'm glad you came! I thought you would miss today!

Hobie arched his eyebrow being masked: I never missed anything you invited me to. Now, what is this? -he eyes on the flag- A bit too Patriotic?

Miles chuckles giving him a kiss on the cheek with his mask on: Mi amor, it's my Puerto Rican pride.

Hobie: Isn't it a bit much?

Miles pouts: No! I think it's cool! -sounding a bit upset- You don't like it?

Hobie quickly change his statement: I meant, to be devoted to a country... the government, I meant. You know, how I feel about it. -he looks down at the parade seeing massive crowds- Isn't America's way to manipulate Puerto Ricans to appreciate being part of America? When they colonize your country and set up a military base! -he did a quick research on his partner's country and it's history-

Miles understood what he meant: Well, that may be true, but! -he hugs his partner's arm- Look, mi amor! You see how everyone is excited to celebrate being Puerto Rican! It runs in our blood, our pride, our culture is who we are! We may lost too much, hell Puerto Rico never had independence, but we're still here. Still Boricua! Still proud of our flag! It's who we are, and we throw the craziest parties, baby.

Hobie hears the loud music and many families gathering around to celebrate: I guess so.. you know how I am.

Miles: Hey, you're here so you're gonna get the full effect! Come on, let's check around. I know, you may judge America for their crazy ass colonization, but remember, you love protecting POC! There might be racists trying to commit hate crime!

Hobie became alert: Oh! I have no problem beating up a racist! -he grins under his mask, he follows his partner. As they got lower to the parade. The crowds cheers as they saw their Spiderman swinging by-

A random woman: Look! Mira! Mira! Es Spiderman! Boricua Spiderman!

The crowd in the parade cheers playing louder music and getting hype: Spiderman! Spiderman! Te amo!

One guy shouted: He's Puerto Rican?

Miles laughs: Por supuesto que soy puertorriqueño! -as he got low taking a balloon to give a little boy being carried by his mother-

Hobie saw the crowd wearing their flags in outfits, makeup, all sorts to show their pride. He follows Miles through the parade seeing no crime, yet. The music plays outlaid from the parade: Yo soy de P fuckin' R (P fuckin' R) Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh (ah)!

Miles turns around swinging backwards to look at his partner while singing along: Los maliante' con la' R! Prr-prr-prr-prr-prr -he chuckles- Come on, bae! Mejor que la boca cierre, ey Ah-ah-ah-ah

Some of the crowd started to sing or dance getting hype for their parade: Antes que los mío' te entierren (oye) Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh (yeh)

Hobie chuckles: You know what, I get it.

Miles smiles under his mask: I'm glad. You know, my mom made a lot of food so you can try.

Hobie: Yum, I didn't eat just to be prepare. -The two swing side by side-

Miles laughs: She made a lot of food! So you better eat like five plates! Also everyone is coming by for the roof top party! Isn't it exciting! -The loud Bomba music plays as they watch the parade starting having the female dancers following the rhythm of the music. Everyone enjoying the large floats, organizations, and other groups walking as they wave their flags.- Wow, it's bigger than last time!

Hobie saw a small group of men looking a bit suspicious: Aye, luv. Looks like we found a couple of muppets...

Miles looks over seeing them holding up microphones: Huh oh! Let's check it out! -being quick to get over the group-

The hate group had a leader preaching out about God and shouting at the Puerto Ricans: GO back to your countries! This a hate on America! You don't belong here -causing the crowd around to get upset-

A woman speaking in Spanish: No tienes derecho a estar aquí! ¡Estás arruinando el desfile! Déjanos en paz, Puñetas! Pendejos! Mama a tu culos! -some of the other crowd tried to held her back seeing they didn't want the cops to come in or worst stop the parade-

Miles flew down seeing the group of men: Hey fellas, what's going on here?

The hate group scowls at Spiderman's outfit with disgust. The leader had his microphone on: You are an American! You are disrespecting our country's belief! USA! USA!

Miles could only scowl under his mask: Hey man, people are allowed to celebrate where they come from!

The leader kept over talking Spiderman: Your just Spiderman 2! You're not even the real Spiderman! WE WANT SPIDERMAN!

Hobie crosses his arms getting super pissed off. Miles stops him: I got this. -he turns to the group- I kinda suggest you all to leave! Your ruining-

The leader of the hate group: FUCK YOU! GO BACK TO MEXICO! -the crowd behind Miles started to get super mad, almost riling up with anger. The racist insult was enough to cause them to shout back. MEXICO? Miles got mad too. This group is testing him- You and all your Mexican, pals should go back to your country! USA! USA! -the hate group chanted wearing their American flags-

Miles: I'm giving you one chance to apologize to me and my people! Before-

The leader over talks him: Or WHAT? You're gonna hit me? I'm using my first amendment! FREEDOM OF SPEECH, BUDDY! YOUR NOT EVEN A REAL SPIDERMAN WITH THAT TACKY FLAG YOU HAVE ON! -The older leader grins widely to pissed off Spiderman-

Hobie took out his guitar: That's it. I'ma beat this bloke! -the crowd behind him agrees-

Miles push him back: NO! We are better than them! -He turns to the group- you left me no choice!

The leader said: Oh yeah! You're nothing but a dirty sp- -Miles quickly uses his webs to shut up the leader then quickly uses his webs to tied the group, then he swing them high on the building-

Miles smiling happily: Ah-ah-Ah! Tsk. Tsk. I give you a chance to apologize and to go home, but since you want to harass me and everyone here. I think I have the right to shut you up! -the crowd cheers out loud as they saw the hate group being web against the building up high. Some took photos and laugh out loud-

Hobie grins widely seeing one of the dumbass racist pissing himself crying about his fear of heights: Wonderful, luv! -He slouches on Miles being a bit handsy with him-

The leader of the group shouted spotting the two Spidermen being a bit too close for his liking: UGH! YOUR NOTHING BUT A FUCKING FAGGOT! UGH, DISGUSTING! YOUR GOING TO HELL TOO!

Miles arched his eyebrow under his mask: Oh yeah? Well -He lift Hobie's mask to reveal his lips, then he lift his own mask to show his lips. A bit of his nose showing his pierced Septum. Then his lips pressed against Hobie's without a care who was watching. When he pulled his lips away then to hide his lower mouth- I RATHER BE A FAGGOT THAN A FUCKING RACIST!

Hobie froze being too in shock by his partner's action, he felt Miles' hand pulling down his mask to hide his mouth. He could've never love any more than he already did- No, he's falling in love with Miles all over again! Miles grab the Pride flag from one of the civilians having to tie it around his neck, flaunting it. Hobie could only awe at his boyfriend.

The crowd cheers having mix reactions from being shock to joy about the scene. Hell, most of their reactions were positive. The hate group were making loud taunts, until Hobie shut their mouths up with his webbing. Then he got close to the leader: Aye, mate. You're lucky if it wasn't me! I would've throw you in the Hudson River and let you all drown! -his voice low and menacing- I'll left you off with a warning, mate. Start another racist shit, and I will fucking kill you myself, huh? -the men looked horrified.- So you will stop this crap and not bother my darling, do you hear? -they all nodded- Good! -he harshly patted the leader's cheek almost slapping him-

Miles shouted: Come on, we gotta patrol some more, bae! -he launched his web shooter causing the to swing as he wave at the crowd-

Hobie follows him seeing the crowd being so happy, they can have a peaceful parade. The hate group being stuck on the building to be made an example of. As they made their rounds, the two got up on a building to watch one last time. Miles being happy by the parade, then he heard Hobie being breathless: I love you, Miles.

Miles being surprised: Huh, what made you say that? -he giggles being so bashful-

Hobie pulls Miles close to him for a close hug: You were amazing! No Spiderman would've done what you did!

Miles: Hahaha are you implying not even you would've stop them racist assholes?

Hobie shook his head: You know, what I mean. You kissing me in front of the crowd? Heh, New York City is gonna go crazy for you being bisexual, Sunflower.

Miles snorted: Pfft, good! Let them know that this bisexual boy issuing their asses! AND HE'S PUERTO RICAN! DOUBLE PUNCHES! -he chuckles- I love you, too Hobie.

Hobie: Can I get another kiss, Brooklyn?

Miles chuckles: Do you have to ask?

Hobie holding his love: Consent is important, luv.

Miles smiles widely: Sure, baby! -The two lift their mask to reveal their lips to kiss again. This time Hobie holds Miles like his special gem, being oh so gentle. The parade being loud and proud as the crowd celebrates their Puerto Rican Day while Yo Soy Boricua, Pa'Que Tu Lo Sepas by Taino plays in the background.-

(Sorry for the harsh language! Was listening to Bad Bunny and saw a post that made me inspired @babyhellboy post and comic photo also another comic post of Hobie Brown saying he rather be a F-word than a Fascist. Hehe, you know his Sunflower is heavily inspired by him😉.)

[silentmoths]

A cold cure for Insomnia

Hey look, it's not a genshin fic

wild huh?

I'll preface this with 2 things: 1: I am, for some reason, incredibly nervous abt posting a fic that is 100% outside my wheelhouse. I've never actually posted anything but genshin fic since I started uploading a couple years ago, only like, one friend has ever seen anything else from me so this is a bit of a step. 2: this is nothing put pure, indulgent lesbian bullshit and I'll also note that I have no idea how to write f/f smut, so be gentle with me.

If you're only here for my genshin stuff, have a nice day and we'll be back to regularly scheduled bullshittery shortly. Until then, please enjoy me, self indulging over my pokemon wife.

Elite 4 Rika x Fem!Reader 7.4k words, not proofread, we die like prof. sada

NSFW, honestly it's just a whole lot of fkn smut with some fluff sprinkled in there, praise kink, hair pulling, use of toys, oral, tribbing, koraidon being an unintentional wingman.

What a day.

Sometimes you wonder how Nemona did it, rushing around doing champion things all the time. Honestly, ever since you’d beat Geeta all those years ago while you were still in school, it felt like every day was ‘go here, check this gym, go there, check that gym.’ And you were getting a little tired of it.

Especially recently, with Nemona currently travelling somewhere in the Kalos region doing Arceus knows what, and Geeta being stuck in paperwork hell with the Academy preparing for their annual treasure hunt, you’d been swamped, needing to go and check every. Single. Gym. to make sure they were all up to par.

(who knows maybe this year a new student would claim the champion title and you could retire? That’d be nice.)

Montenevera was the last stop on your trip, and while the vibe was always lovely in the snowy mountain town…you’d never been particularly fond of the cold… Only made worse by Rhyme and her gang of ghost pokemon sending a particular shiver down your spine that you just couldn’t shake.

Night had fallen by the time you finally walked out the sliding doors of the League building, only to be greeted by your one nemesis. 

Fucking snow.

Here, on the outskirts of Mesagoza.

You wanted to scream, but that wasn’t very becoming of a League champion now was it?

So with a sigh, you reach for a specific pokeball on your hip. The trek home wasn’t far, but in the sleet and cold, you knew it’d be faster if you rode.

Koraidon however, apparently had other ideas. 

The moment his feet touch the cold ground, he yelps and backs right up and into the League building once again.

“Koraidon…c’mon bud, we just need to get home.” you sigh “I know you’re tired too…I promise to make you the best dang sandwich when we get home…yeah?” 

The paradox pokemon simply looks at you with wide, sad eyes and a low chitter before he willingly returns to his ball. 

Great….just great. Not even your most reliable pokemon was willing to brave even more snow, not after today.

“Woah-ho, what’s gotten under his scales?” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, snapping you from your despondent staring at Koraidon’s pokeball. The familiar click of dress boots give her away before Rika steps into view.

How she always managed to look so very casual while pulling off suspenders was beyond you, but every time you were anywhere in the vicinity of the first member of the Elite four, you found your mouth running dry and your mind wandering very far away from here. She tilts her head at you and it takes her waving her hand in front of your eyes to realise you were absolutely staring at her.

Way to go.

“Woah, you alright? You look wiped.” She comments, her brow furrowing as she looks you up and down. 

“A-ah…yeah, sorry…s’been a long few days…” you eventually mumble, turning your gaze to the floor as you clip Koraidon’s ball back to your belt with the others. “Geeta’s had me checking and rechecking all the gyms to make sure they’re ready for the next treasure hunt…we just got back from Montenevera…cold…tired…and now it’s snowing a-and Koraidon is just…too tired to take me home..” 

A slender, comforting hand gently rests between your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing circles and it takes everything in you to not crumble apart there, man, how desperate did you have to be to nearly cry at friendly touch? “You live all the way on the other side of town, dontcha?” She asks, her free hand raising to push some of her green hair from her face as the look of worry on her features only seems to grow “Ain’t no way you’re making that walk in this state…”

“I’ll live…” you sigh, hanging your head and readjusting your bag as you lift your head to look at the snow flurry that was definitely only getting heavier.

“Nah, C’mon, you can crash at mine tonight, it’s closer.” Rika chimes, patting you on the back and passing you a wink before she heads out the door. 

You blink, watching her back in silence, there was no way she had just invited you to spend the night, absolutely no way. You needed to go see a doctor and maybe get your hearing checked-

“You comin? Or did Rhyme’s Toxtricity paralyse you up there in Montenevera?” She calls, stopping and looking over her shoulder. There's a…a look in her eyes that you can't quite make out, but it makes your heart jackhammer just that little bit, especially when she turns and offers her hand “C’mon, let's get you home, yeah?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you blink at her outstretched, gloved hand and then up at her smile.

Arceus, you were weak…how you ever made champion when you can’t even look the first of the Elite four in the eye without feeling your cheeks heat, you’ll never know.

Finally, you reach out and take her hand, not expecting her to tug you into her side, arm draping over your shoulders as she starts walking again, all but pulling you along with her. Her hand gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she shares her body warmth with you on the trek down the mountainside towards the tunnel. For someone so slim, she was…much warmer than you expected, and you find yourself sleepily zoning out, simply focusing on one food in front of the other.

Thankfully, Rika was pretty alright with not needing to make small talk. This wasn’t the first time you had both just…existed in the same space in silence…to be fair the silence on your part before was because you had no idea how to talk to her without muddling your words like a lovestruck idiot, and perhaps that was still the case. Regardless, you play up the ‘tired’ aspect and simply bask in being close.

The unfortunate downside to the tunnel from Mesagoza up to the League headquarters, was the wind. Right now? Frigid and inhospitable, the icy chill stinging at your eyes, at least until your companion comes to your rescue, shifting you behind her taller frame and blocking the wind, hand moving from your shoulder to your hand, giving that same reassuring squeeze as she looks over her shoulder, small smile on her face.

You swear you can feel her thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles as she bends her arm behind her back to keep a secure hold on you.

Rika…she really was something else, something you didn’t deserve.

The moment the tunnel spits you both out into Mesagoza’s side streets, she takes an immediate right. Had you been walking home, you would have had to take a left and trudge all the way to the other side of the city, past the academy and almost to the pokemon centre by the west gate. 

The flurry of snow was only getting worse, you can feel your clothes growing heavy and damp, and the concrete was getting slippery. Thankfully it’s not all that long before she tugs you into an apartment building and into a blessedly warm elevator. Holding you steady as your world begins to spin and blur at the edges. Perhaps you really had pushed it a bit too much today, hitting Cascarrafa, Glaseado and Montenevera in a single day…

“Hey.” Rika murmurs as your head rests against her shoulder “Stay with me, nearly there, kay? We’ll get you inside n’warmed up, yeah?” 

“Mmh…kay..” you manage to mumble back, simply enjoying being held, even if it was light. Her arm wrapped around your torso as you just breath. She smells like Cedarwood…and maybe a hint of Ozone…might have something to do with her Camerupt… but it’s not an unwelcome scent at all. You only get a few moments to enjoy it before the elevator chimes, and you’re gently tugged out into, and down a hallway. Rika’s free hand fishing her keys from her pocket. She has to let you go to get the door open, muttering something about a stuck lock and needing to call maintenance, but with a bodily shove of her shoulder, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

Her apartment is blessedly warm, she must have left the heater on when she left for work this morning, because the warm air nearly takes you out before you even enter the door, needing to lean against the frame with a relieved sigh, knowing that even if you had made it home tonight, your heater had definitely not been on, and hadn't been for several days.

Rika only laughs softly, gently pulling you inside so she could close the door. 

“Here…lets get you to the bathroom and into the shower…you’re absolutely freezing.” She mutters. Half-carrying you down the hall. Her apartment is…honestly what you expected. Neat enough, but not overly tidied. Lived in, comfortable, Inviting. Shades of soft greens and earthy tones scattered everywhere, a few large pokemon beds scattered about for her pokemon to enjoy outside of their balls. The only things really alluding to the fact that Rika was far more well off than most had to be the massive TV mounted to the living room wall, and what looked like one of the newer game consoles…the ones that had been super hard to get because of a manufacturing supply issue…fancy.

You don't quite register that she’s slowly pulling your clothes away from you until she’s already got your beanie, scarf and jacket off, each item thrown into her laundry hamper, at some point she’d also already started the shower for you, the room already beginning to fill with steam. You snap back to reality when theres a gently tug at the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your permission to remove it. 

“O-oh, I uh…s-sorry…” you mumble, raising your arms above your head anyway, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment as she pulls the item away, the tank top beneath still leaving you modest enough to not die on the spot. “I-I can handle it from here…” 

“You sure?” she murmurs softly “S’no big deal to me.” 

“Y-yeah…I’ll be fine…thanks.” 

You watch as the tiniest hint of…disappointment? Flickers across her features…no, surely you were imagining…but she doesn’t push it any further.

“Alrighty, I’ll go find something you can wear for the night and then throw your clothes in the laundry once you’re in the shower, yeah?”

“Mm…t-thank you Rika…you really…you didn’t have to-” you mumble, unable to meet her gaze, but she just smiles and shrugs, her fingers slowly pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

“And what if I wanted to? You look like you need a break.” She retorts, sliding past you and continuing down the hall before you can reply.

Soon enough, the rest of your clothes join the laundry hamper and you slip into the shower, beneath the scalding spray and you want to cry all over again, your fingers begin to prick with pins and needles as they slowly regain feeling, serves you right for leaving your gloves at home.

A few minutes into your shower, you hear the distinctive, soft thud of cloth hitting the counter. “Here’s some jammies, sorry if they’re a bit big.” Rika chuckles before vanishing back down the hall. You almost don’t want to get out of the hot spray, especially not once you start giving yourself a good scrub down with whatever fancy-branded body wash she kept in here.

At least now you know what to buy that would make you smell like cedarwood…

After you feel the last of the day’s grime finally wash from your body, you shut off the water and poke your head out of the shower. Thankfully Rika had already left a towel waiting atop the clothes she’d sacrificed to you. It’s as you’re drying off that you finally get a good look in the mirror and…wow…

Now you think you understand why she’d been so concerned…you look like you had two black eyes, that's how tired you were…

–

You find Rika relaxing in the living room watching TV when you finally emerge, changed into a fresh set of long pyjamas and- you can’t even stop the giggle when you notice the clodsire slippers.

“Where on earth did you get those?” you ask, pointing to said slippers, earning a grin and a snicker from their wearer.

“Larry actually.” She chuckles “secret santa a couple years back.” With that, she pats the spot on the couch next to her, and you, now warm and content, plop down beside her without a second thought, leaning against the arm of the couch with a content sigh. “How’re you feelin?” she asks, idly flipping through the channels.

“Mmh…much better…thank you again…I…I don’t think I would have made it home…not in this weather.”

“Oh I coulda told you that, Honey. In fact I’m pretty sure I did.” She snickers, her lips quirking at the side when she notes the way your cheeks flush pink at the pet name. “I’ve ordered some takeout, s’too cold to go out n’ grab food...and I’m usually too beat after work to bother cooking.” 

“Then how the hell do you stay so skinny?” You snicker at her, receiving a wink in response.

“Oh I take my cardio seriously.” is all the response she gives before she finally decides there is nothing decent on regular TV, and switches over to a streaming service, throwing on some random popular movie. 

Once again, you both settle into a comfortable silence, Rika rising from the couch half an hour in to fetch the dinner left at her door before returning, at some point with a blanket in tow. You sit up a little as she places the food on the coffee table and plops down right beside you this time, draping the blanket over both your laps. It’s not until you take the first mouthful of that delightful galarian curry, that you realise just how hungry you are, barely paying attention to the movie as you scarf down your meal, fighting back tears at Rika’s acts of kindness for the third time today, and only seemingly taking a breath once you’ve finished your meal, leaning back into the arm of the couch with a content sigh, only to squeak when Rika finishes her own a few minutes later and bodily leans into your side, head to your chest and arms slowly wrapping around your torso as she pulls her legs up and gets comfortable beside you with a content huff.

Arceus she was just so…so handsome, breathtaking… and she was just…cuddling you like you’d both been doing this kind of thing for years… it was sudden, but it didn’t feel wrong…and slowly, you bring your arm down from where it had been splayed along the back of the couch, to gently card through her hair, pulling some of her bangs from her face and tucking them behind her ear.

“Hmm…you should get some sleep, kiddo…arceus knows you need it.” She hums, glancing up at you from her spot on your chest. You know she’s right, and she doesn’t complain when you shift, even reaching behind her to hand you an extra cushion to tuck behind your head as you lay out along the couch, Rika coming to rest between your legs, head once again leaning onto your chest, her extra warmth and weight just adding another layer of comfort as you both go back to watching the movie.

Now usually, usually you were the kind of person who could drop off watching a movie quite easily. But on very rare occasions, you would find yourself struck with bouts of insomnia, and unfortunately for you, they always seemed to happen after periods of prolonged stress.

Like needing to go and personally make sure every gym was up to standards… 

Before you even knew it, the credits begin to roll, you’re exhausted, but offensively awake, to the point where even Rika is surprised, blinking those beautiful crimson eyes up at you. 

“Can’t sleep?” she asks with a tilt of her head. 

“Sometimes Insomnia is a bitch.” You concede, she makes a noise of understanding. 

“Ah, yeah…I know that feeling…” she admits, staring up at you, to the point you feel your cheeks heating again, and you avert your gaze “but, thankfully, I know the best solution for that.” She adds, shimmying to push herself up on her hands and knees, looming over you, some of her hair, having been free’d of its usual ponytail, cascading over her shoulders to tickle at your face.

“O-oh? And…what might that be?” that look in her eyes is back, the one you couldn’t quite read properly back at HQ, but here, with her inches from your face? It’s loud and clear.

Hunger. 

“Do you trust me?” She asks, her lips quirking into a smirk as you shrink beneath her. 

“W-would I have followed you home if I hadn’t?” you manage to squeak back at her, nowhere near as confident and commanding as it had sounded in your head. It’s enough to make her chuckle, and you watch in a daze as she licks her lips, a single hand coming up to softly grip your chin, lifting your face. 

“Hm, touche…” and with that, her lips are on yours, she swallows the squeaking gasp that you let out, taking the opportunity of your mouth being open to send her tongue in to explore. To you it feels like electricity, like you’d just taken a thunderbolt to the senses; She’s soft, gentle, probing, gauging your reactions. Apparently she must have liked what she got, because she deepens the kiss, nipping at your lips as one hand tangles in your hair, rougher. You like this a bit better. 

You’re the one who needs to come up for air first, pulling your face away with a loud, breathless gasp as you try to catch your breath. 

The look you find waiting for you is…predatory, is the only word that comes to mind, and if it wasn’t for the fact she was already between your knees, you’d be squeezing your thighs together so tight, because it’s doing something…funny to your insides.

“Hmm…you ever done anything like…this before?” She asks, voice low and husky and you’re very ready to pass away, but you manage a shake of your head and the grin you get in response? 

It’s like a Mightyena who’s just found it’s lunch. She was going to eat you, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. 

“Well then, we’d best move…couch sex is great n’ all, but I’d rather your first time be somewhere a little more comfortable.” she remarks, pulling away. You whine at the loss of her extra warmth, but that whine quickly turns to a yelp when she takes your arm and drags you up with a strength she hadn’t shown you before. Always full of tricks, Rika was. 

The admittedly short trek down the hall to her room is…hindered. Every few steps you’d find yourself pressed against the wall, Rika towering over you as hands tangle in your hair and lips crash to yours as she steals what little breath you manage to catch before you’re separating, taking a couple more steps and repeating the process. 

Right outside the bedroom door, the slim trainer actually lifts you up the wall a ways, enough so that your legs instinctively wrap around her waist, nothing but her pyjama pants and the thin boxer’s you’d borrowed off her keeping you apart, but already entirely too much clothing in the way. You moan loudly when she rolls her hips into yours, the sensations all new and overwhelming, but you don't think you’ve ever felt this good before in your life.

Her hands find your ass as she pulls back from the wall, holding you to her firmly as you both finally stumble into her room, only given a second to brace before she’s throwing you down into the blankets, and even less time before she’s on you, grinning and hungry as hands fly up your top, pushing it up your chest so she can finally access some skin.

“A-ah! Rika-” her name was lost on her for the time being, far too engrossed in leaving open mouthed kisses along your chest and stomach, mouth latching over one of your nipples while her hand works at the other. Your own hands twisting and clenching at her blanket, your squirming only made worse when she shifts again, her knee pressing between your legs and right against your aching cunt. 

At some point, she manages to wrangle the top off you completely, throwing it to the void so her hands can explore the expanse of your chest properly, she leaves no patch of skin untouched, no freckle or blemish uncharted, and when your whining begins to pitch as the nipple she sucks on becomes too sensitive, she gets go, only to latch to your collar bone instead, hands roaming your body.

You let out an embarrassingly pitiful mewl when her fingers dip beneath the waistband of your borrowed boxers, and you immediately bring a hand up to cover your mouth. Rika, apparently, doesn’t like that. Her hand retreating from its place as she props herself on the other, pulling away entirely, even shifting her knee back, depriving you of that delicious friction. Your hand is tugged away from your mouth and pinned to your side, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Don’t.” She scolds quietly “I wanna hear you.”

“B-but-” 

“Don’t be a brat.” she interjects, eyes flashing dangerously “I know that aint’ you… you wanna be a good girl, yeah?”

Oh.

Oh no.

That shouldn’t have such an effect on you. 

There’s no hiding it from Rika either. Her smirk widens as she stares smugly down at your trembling frame. 

“Oh? You like that huh? Well then, are you gonna be a good girl and do as I say?” she hums “I’ll make sure you feel real good, yeah?”

“M-mhm…” is all you manage to squeak out, earning a raised eyebrow.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you there, princess.” Rika snickers. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the humiliation burns your ears and makes your insides squirm in a way you didn’t think would feel as good as it did.

“I-I’ll be good…” you whisper, your hands twisting into the sheets as Rika hums, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your burning cheek. 

“That’s a good girl.” she purrs “you just relax n’let me handle things, kay?”

You actually sigh into the kiss when she does finally return to what she was doing, your arms wrapping over her shoulders as she shifts back into place, hands lightly roaming your skin, teasing and testing sensitive spots, occasionally getting a little rougher, just enough to rile you a little more, before settling again. Before she can get back into your pants however, you tug at her shirt, whining into her mouth; thankfully, Rika is smart, she gets your hint and pulls away just long enough to tug her top off.

Her skin is soft, smooth, a few burn scars and claw marks here and there as she settles beside you, one of your thighs caught between her knees as she wraps an arm under your shoulders, pulling you close to her chest as the other hand grazes southward, she doesn't dally once her fingers breech the waistband of your boxers, quickly locating the sticky mess between your thighs with a pleased hum.

“Mmm, look at that…” she hums as a pair of fingers easily delve through your pussy, retracting from your boxers entirely so she can admire the glistening slick dripping from her fingers. “You’re so wet already, honey…” Rika makes sure you watch as she pops those two fingers into her mouth and you squeak, face burning in embarrassment. 

She doesn’t give you much time to react, the moment she pulls those slender fingers from her lips, she shifts, your boxers are wrenched off and you’re left bare before her as she parts your knees to settle on her belly between your thighs, eyes flashing devilishly in the low light, and hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive parts.

“R-Rika-”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you into my bed.” She rasps between open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, arms wrapping around to keep yout hips in place as she takes her sweet time. “When was it… mmh, yeah I think it was…two years ago? Koraidon suddenly came out of his ball all sorry lookin’ in the middle of a meeting…”

Oh Arceus, you remember that meeting… Perhaps you’d been a little soft with Koraidon…he’d learnt that if he looked sorry enough, you’d make him a sandwich… but it was getting awfully hard to focus when a warm tongue suddenly licks a flat stripe into your cunt, and lips seal around your clit, shocking you from your thoughts as her strong hands prevent you from accidentally crushing her head with your thighs.

“Without even stopping to think, you got up n’ you got him what he needed.” she whispers into your thigh once she finally pulls away “middle of a meetin… n’ heres our newest champion, making a sandwich for her pokemon.” she chuckles “I dunno…something about how casually you just…did that…I’ve wanted this ever since but Geeta’s always had you running all over the place, pinning you down has always been impossible…least until today.” 

“Rika…”

“You’re always doing everything for everyone else… you deserve to relax.” For a brief moment, she flashes you a genuine smile, not a hint of that handsome smirk that you’re so used to; just genuine warmth before she tugs you down by your hips and returns her mouth to you, long strokes of her tongue between your folds that leave any words dead in your throat, and your hands tangling in her hair for any semblance of control. You didn’t want to hurt her, but when she sucks harshly on your clit, you cry out and yank on her hair a little harder than you’d meant to, any apology dying when she groans and shudders, her eyes rolling back for a moment. 

“You’re killin me, kid.” She sighs in the brief moment she brings herself to separate from you “keep doin that and you might end up in trouble.”

It sounds like a threat… but the way she suddenly looks so…debauched, has you tugging at her silky hair again when a pair of fingers slowly begin to prod at your core, spurring her on as you squirm and mewl.

Eventually, you feel something deep in your belly, different from before, something building that has your breath coming harshly as you try to squirm away, stopped by a firm hand pressing just below your navel.

“R-rika-! s-somethings…I-I feel-” you whimper as the pressure builds, you expect her to pull away in concern, but her eyes flash with realisation, and she only seems to double down, her long, slender fingers curling inside of you and brushes against…something. Something that has you nearly scream her name as that pressure snaps and your world turns white, fingers curling harshly into her hair.

Somewhere, through the haze, you feel a weight resting on you, and a hand resting on your cheek, but it takes a little longer for your ears to finally stop ringing and realise Rika was gently calling your name.

“There you are..” She chuckles softly as you finally remember how to uncross your eyes and look at her. “That looked intense…you ok?” 

“Uh…uh-huh…” you respond dumbly, resting your cheek against her hand “what…what was that..?”

Rika’s lips pull into a thin, concerned line as her brows furrow.

“They really didn’t teach sex-ed at the academy, did they?” She asks.

“I-I mean…they did…s’just…basic..” you mumble as you slowly come down from…whatever high that just was.

“Obviously.” she sighs with a shake of her head “Was that seriously your first orgasm?” 

Oh.

“oh…I uh…yeah…I guess it was.” and the humiliation was back. You knew what an orgasm was in theory…you’d just..never bothered to try it yourself. 

“Well…I suppose I should count myself honoured then.” She snickers, leaning in to kiss at your undoubtedly sweaty forehead. “Couple more of those N’ I think you’ll be sleeping like a Komala.” 

“M-more…?” you whisper, she laughs, catching your wide-eyed expression.

“Oh yeah, that was just foreplay, sweet thing…you did so well.” 

And the praise was back, despite the way your joints feel molten hot, you still manage to squirm beneath her. 

“I- s-should I…um…h-help you now?” your question is barely a whisper, all nerves…you have no idea how she did what she did but it felt…wrong to take and not give. 

But Rika only shakes her head. 

“What’d I say before?” she chides, slowly sitting back on her knees “Your one job tonight is to relax…I’ve got you.” 

“But…what about you-”

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll get off eventually.” She chuckles, smirking when you sigh and relent. “I want one more outta you before then though.” She mumbles as she shifts out from between your knees, sitting and reaching for her bedside table as you stare at the ceiling, basking in the shaky afterglow. 

“D-did you…mean what you said before?” you mumble more at the ceiling than anything “that you’ve been…waiting for this..?” 

“What reason do I have to lie to you?” She chuckles as she fiddles with…whatever she’s fiddling with. “You earned my respect the day you beat me when you first took on the Elite four, my admiration when you beat Geeta and became a champion…”

“God…those stupid glasses haunt me.” you snicker, remembering rather vividly being sat, alone in a room with Rika when you had first taken on the league, you’d read up plenty on other pokemon leagues in other regions, but never once had any of them had an interview-style exam right at the start.

“Hey, I like my glasses, thank you very much!” Rika snorts as she finally shifts back over, pulling you close with one arm as something…new slides between your legs, a quick glance and- oh.

You never really took Rika for the kind to own toys…but…at the same time, you never really gave it much thought. It’s nothing extreme, but to you, who’s never had anything other than a pair of slender fingers inside you very recently, the silicone toy is still rather intimidating. 

“This ok?” She asks, mouthing at your neck and shoulder “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“I…I do..just..nervous is all.” 

“Mmh, good girl, so trusting…” there she goes again with the pet name that makes you shiver, not helped by the cold press of lubricated silicone against your still-sensitive cunt, gently pressing just that little bit further as Rika mouths your neck, nibbling down on the juncture between throat and shoulder, an adequate distraction as she pulls your leg out of the way with her own and sinks the toy in, slowly, almost tender as she coos comforts, coaxing you to relax, praise falling from her easily. 

“Look at that, you took it so well.” She praises once the toy reaches the hilt “fuck, you’re making me regret not buying a harness… might just have to pick one up so I can fuck you proper, yeah?” 

You can't even bring yourself to respond to her dirty talk, blinking hazily downwards as you gently press a hand just below your belly-button, taking the hint, Rika pulls the toy almost all the way out and then thrusts it back in. The feeling of it inside you, plus being able to feel it beneath your hand makes you moan loud and long, head falling back against the pillows as Rika lets you go, using her now free arm to prop herself up to watch you as she begins rhythmically working the dildo in and out of you, a small shift of her thumb has it brushing against your clit every time she sinks the silicone back into you, only adding to the layers of pleasure as your toes curl and your legs twitch.

“Look at you taking it like you were made for this, good girl.” she purrs, licking at her lips “I really shoulda found another reason to get you alone waaay before now.”

“Ungh…please…p-please…more…” It takes more than you feel like it should to beg, good as it felt, you’re worried that Rika was perhaps treating you just a little too softly. “Rika please…please please pleas-”

“Woah there, settle down baby.” She whispers, kissing at your cheek “Lookit you, telling me what you want like a good girl…who am I to deny the champion?” 

Your attempt at telling her she didn’t need to use your title is quickly drowned out when she sits up, plunging the toy deeper inside of you with this new angle, brushing up against that one spot that had triggered your last orgasm. Her free hand pins your chest down as she smiles down at you, predatory and hungry for your reactions as she ups the pace, occasionally stopping to really grind the toy deep inside of you, right against that sensitive spot that has your voice pitch higher while you grip at Rika’s hand like your life depended on it.

As your next orgasm draws closer, you whimper, tugging at her hand, overstimulated ,overwhelmed, knowing you needed something, but not quite sure what that something was. At least until Rika pulls you to sit up, not even interrupting her pace as she braces you against her chest so you can hide your face away into the crook of her neck. All the while she mutters praise and pet names into your ear. She groans when that knot snaps for the second time tonight and you cry her name into her throat. You don’t pass out like you’re pretty sure you did last time at least, but as the shocks of pleasure begin to fade out, you really do begin to feel the pull of exhaustion behind your eyes as you slump against Rika’s shoulder, whimpering quietly when she slowly pulls the toy from your sensitive core, feeling the way your muscles involuntarily clench around it.

“How was that, baby? You doin alright?” She asks, gently tossing the toy back towards the bedside table as she turns her attention back to you. You were dizzy, dazed, and exhausted, yet through all that one thought still persisted.

She’d been doing all of this for you, and she still had her goddamn pants on.

Her breath hitches when your hand drops to her thighs, pressing beneath the waistband as you try to swallow down your nervousness to return the favour properly, biting your lip as you find the slick, wet mess already waiting for you; in a way, it was comforting to know that she was in fact, turned on by all of this. You’re clumsier than Rika at this, inexperienced and nervous, but you listen as she lets out a shuddering breath, her head leaning against yours for a moment as you slowly gain some confidence. That is until she grabs your wrist, ignoring your whine as she pulls your hand away and lays you back down, taking a moment to kiss any air out of your lungs, trying to calm your fraying nerves at being denied the chance to please her. 

“Hey… It’s ok sweetie.” She murmurs against your lips, uncaring of your wide-eyed pout “One more…”

“Nooo.” you whine, wiggling in her grip “I cant…s’too much Rika…” truly, you didn't think you could take another, no matter how good it felt, the first two had been so intense, but Rika only smiles. 

“I know you can give me one more, sweet girl.” she purrs, watching as you squirm and shake your head like you could actually deny her. “Will you stop being a brat if I told you this one will also get me off?” 

At that, your squirming stops as you blink tiredly up at her, earning a chuckle and a fond shake of her head. 

“R-really?”

“Yeah, s’nice n easy on you too…you wanna try?” 

You seriously doubted she could get another out of you, hell, you seriously doubted you could stay awake for much longer, her initial plan definitely working…but if it brought her pleasure too…

“O-ok…I’ll try…”

“That’s my girl.” She whispers softly, pressing just as soft a kiss to your lips “Lay back for me, princess.”

You do just that, shifting a few pillows to get comfortable, if you thought your joints ached before, now you felt like you've made the trip to the three final gyms today on foot…perhaps you should make Koraidon his favourite sandwich as thanks for carrying you around all day.

You feel Rika take hold of one of your legs, lifting it so your knee bends over her shoulder as she settles into place, finally free of her own bottoms as she slots her pelvis against yours. You gasp at the feeling of your cores pressing together. It felt…soft, but almost way more intimate and intense than anything she’d done to you prior…whatever she was doing, definitely wasn’t covered in any sex-ed class you’d taken back in school.

You’re about to ask, when she rolls her hips and oh- 

Perhaps it was your already overstimulated state, or just the position itself, but as she slowly grinds herself against you, the friction leaves you breathless, even more so when you look at Rika’s face. Her brow is furrowed in deep concentration as she bites at her bottom lip, face contorting in pleasure as she groans into your knee, her nails digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as she rolls her hips just a little harder, the pain only adding to the sensation.

“S-shit…” she pants, “fuck you feel so good…good girl..” she moans, head tilting back as she stares up at the ceiling, shuddering when you whimper and lift your hips as she rolls down again, sending another jolt of pleasure through you both. “That’s it princess, j-just like that… you’re gettin real good at this…” 

Her words of pleasured praise do…something else to you, sparking that last bit of energy you had left to life as you continue to try and keep rhythm with her, grinding together slow and deep and watching in awe as the first member of the elite four comes apart in front of you for the first time, her sounds going from quite whispers to long moans and pleasured keens. 

“Rika- R-rika…” you pant “mmf-fuck… can’t believe it’s taken this long..” the words are out of your mouth before you have the forethought to think about them “I’ve had the stupidest crush on you since we first met back when I was taking the gym challenge… you were so- ah! H-handsome and intimidating…I…thought you were a-a man and nearly called you S-sir-”

“FUCK-” her shout actually makes you jolt, and you realise she’s cumming, cunt grinding deliciously into your own as she bites down on your leg, the sudden extra jolt of pleasure-pain sending you over the edge as well with an open-mouthed scream.

Somewhere in the haze before you pass out, you make a mental note to try calling Rika ‘sir’ next time…if there was a next time.

–

It’s light out when you wake the next morning, blinking sleep from your eyes as you look out the window.

Seems the snow had only picked up during the night, most of which you don't remember after…well, everything. Save for a straw in your mouth, Rika’s gentle voice coaxing a few sips of fluid into you, and a damp cloth wiping you down, hushing your overstimulated whimpers of protest. 

Somehow she’d even managed to get you dressed again without waking you…you must have crashed hard. Yet the thing that sticks out to you is that the bed is severely lacking in another body, Rika nowhere to be found.

At first, a pit of worry sows itself into your gut. Had she gone to sleep on the couch after all that? Had she had second thoughts-

A clatter from down the hall, and her warm laughter however, abate that somewhat.

“You’re such an ungainly thing.” you hear her snicker “Hold on a second it’s nearly done, needy lizard.” 

Koraidon’s telltale ‘i'm hungry and sad, feed me’ whine quickly turns to happy chirping at the promise of food, his head turning to the hallway as you shuffle out of bed, blanket and all to trudge down the hall. happily leaving Rika to her business as he trots over to greet you, shoving his massive snout right into your belly. 

“See? All your complainin’ woke her up!” Rika snorts, resting a hand on her hip. “N’here i was trying to make you breakfast before you woke up…”

Your cheeks heat a little at the sentiment.

“Keyword is try…good luck getting any cooking past Koraidon…” you mumble softly, petting said pokemon’s head feathers down as the other trainer leaves the kitchen, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Well, initially I’d enlisted him to help, but that turned out to be a bust..” She snickers. “G’mornin.”

“M-morning..” 

Rika tilts her head at you with an amused grin “aw, actin all shy after everything that happened last night?” she muses, chuckling when all the response you give is a slightly redder face before you drop your head into Koraidon’s feathers. Her amusement soon melts away as a warm, now intimately familiar hand, comes to rest on your back. 

“Hey…” she sighs “I enjoyed myself last night… I hope you did too…” 

“I-I did… its just…I…” you nibble at your bottom lip, unable to come up with the words to describe how you’re feeling. Giddy and nervous, emotional and excited, all wrapped up into one package.

Thankfully, your companion seems to take it in stride, pressing another kiss to your temple before she returns to the kitchen.

“Oh by the way.” She pipes up after a moment. “Geeta called this morning…snow’s a little too heavy today so HQ’s shut…looks like we have a long weekend.” 

Oh, an extra day off? That's probably the best news you could have gotten today, considering your legs were still shaking like a newborn deerling…

“Nice..” you giggle, slowly shuffling towards the couch, pulling her blanket up over your shoulders as you flop down by the arm and get cozy. 

“Thats what I said.” She snickers, soon joining you with a hot plate of food. If you’d thought the galarian curry last night had been good, this trumped it, your body screaming for food after last night’s exertion. 

“Y’know, if you want…you’re more than welcome to crash here for the weekend…” Rika throws the offer casually as she eats, content smile upon her face as she watches you from the corner of her eye “Snow’s only gotten heavier since yesterday, n’I don't wantcha getting hurt tryina get home..” 

This time, you can hear the intent behind her words, the intent you couldn’t read yesterday as you turn your head towards the window, to the almost whiteout of Masagoza. You contemplate the offer as you polish off your breakfast, placing the plate on the coffee table before you, watching as Koraidon happily trots up to lick the plate clean with a happy chirp.

“Hmmm…well, if you’re happy to have me…who am I to say no…sir.” you know it’s cheeky, you know it’s going to end badly for you, but watching Rika’s face suddenly go from cool, calm and collected, to beet red is totally worth it before she shoves the last mouthful of her own food into her mouth, slamming the plate onto the table before she grabs you by the collar of your shirt and hauls you up. 

You cackle all the way down the hall as she all but drags you back to the bedroom.

You were in for a long weekend indeed.

[iovjun]

You Were Beautiful — Huang Renjun

PAIRING: huang renjun x reader

GENRE: angst, breakup au

WARNINGS: none, other than the fkn heartbreak :(

SYNOPSIS: You were a novel in itself, your pages filled with words upon words of stories and little problems you ran into. Renjun felt thankful to have appeared in a few of those lines, maybe even a whole chapter filled with nothing but him. But books, too, ended eventually.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

A/N: this one hurt ngl :D TELL ME HOW I DID? DID IT MAKE YOU FEEL? (honorary tag to @yoongistoesuwu who’s always a part of my writing process <3)

The dirt under your nails never felt more uncomfortable. Your little plants stared up at you, their pale green color sickening to look at. Once standing strong and tall, they were now reduced to wilted, feeble, pathetic things. It was a terrible feeling, knowing that you neglected them and they were dying because of you.

You quietly hummed a song as you dusted your hands off and grabbed the small watering can, returning it to it’s temporary spot on the counter. The sun was low in the sky, its golden color washing over the kitchen and your skin. Its beams shone through the wide windows, barely filtered by the thin white curtain.

When you first picked this apartment, the view was one of the many things you loved about it. High above the ground, the city skyline was definitely a sight for sore eyes, especially during these hours when the clouds became an artist’s canvas, a splash of color across the horizon.

As you looked out the window and took a sip of water, the door opened behind you but you didn’t turn. You knew it was just Renjun, and you didn’t have to see him to know that he was probably in that favorite sweater of his, keys dangling from one finger and his phone in his hand.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual.

“Hey,” you acknowledged, twisting to watch him set his keys down.

“Did you eat already?” He opened the fridge, but you already knew it was empty. He realized that fact, closing it and turning away.

You replied, “No.”

“Oh.”

That was it. He didn’t make eye contact, he didn’t come up to give you a kiss, he didn’t invite you to eat elsewhere. He walked away, probably to go sit on the bed while he scrolls through his phone and you stay in the kitchen, watching the sun bid farewell.

When the light faded completely the kitchen was dark but you didn’t bother turning on the lights. The city outside glowed lively and even in this quiet moment you could still hear the honking cars and bustling streets below, sounds you’ve grown accustomed to since moving to the city. The feeling inside you was one you’ve become all too familiar with, yet when put to words you came up blank.

You were never much of a poet anyway, not like Renjun.

The glass of water in your hands was now empty—this you discovered as you brought it back up to your lips for another sip. Sighing, you put in the sink and looked at the time. It was past ten already, how long had you been standing there? The lights outside had been so mesmerizing, so alive, you could get caught up watching other people live their lives while you forget about yours.

Eventually you slipped into bed, wincing at the stone cold sheets. You knew Renjun’s sleeping body was beside you but you pushed that notion away, closing your eyes and trying to get rid of every thought that kept you up at night. Getting good sleep these days was becoming less and less often, but you weren’t sure why.

Maybe it was the fact that the person on the other side of the bed turned his back to you every night, and you always drifted off knowing you wouldn’t wake up in his arms the next morning. At this point you felt numb, tears wouldn’t even fall from your eyes anymore, you weren’t even sure what you felt could be described as sadness or anger.

The next day you squinted at your plants on the window sill, trying to determine if they looked better or worse. You supposed it was too early to tell, you barely tended to them the evening before.

Staring out the window was starting to be all too common for you and you hated it. You hated seeing the city outside, the sidewalks you used to walk with Renjun and the cafe events you would attend with him. And sometimes there would be a stray cat in an alley that would, by some miracle, let Renjun pet him. He would pull you in, his hand still grasping yours tightly, and jokingly asked if you could take it home, eyes bright like a child in a toy store. You would chuckle, shaking your head at him and reminding him that pets weren’t allowed in your apartment. Of course, he already knew that but it was a running joke between the both of you.

How you hated those big windows.

Hastily turning, you grabbed your jacket and keys before you let your thoughts wander too far. You reached out to the door but it swung open and you came face to face with Renjun who was arriving as scheduled.

He recoiled in shock and coughed awkwardly, letting go of the doorknob and relaxing his arm. “Hey, were you going somewhere?” he asked, looking away from your eyes.

You stepped back to let him in. “Um, not really,” was your answer. “Why?”

“I just—” he began, bringing up his arm to show a paper bag in his hand. “I brought some food. Thought you might be hungry.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s eat then,” you murmured, and with that he walked in, setting down the bag and slipping off his sweater. You caught a whiff of him as he walked by, the scents from outside mixing with his usual aroma. He smelled of spring rain over a jasmine field, it always reminded you of the fresh flowers the waiters at your favorite cafe used to place in each vase.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

The type of silence that had its hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the life out of you, making you clench your fist with force.

Looking back at this scene, no one would’ve ever guessed that just a couple months ago you were engaged to this man.

The food in front of you was spread out in all its glory, just the sight of it was enough to make your mouth water. Renjun sat across from you, his head lowered as he took in the food. You noticed, looking at the logo on the bag, that it was from an unfamiliar restaurant. Your stomach growled in hunger but you didn’t eat.

You couldn’t eat. It felt strange, like you were dining with a stranger. You were conscious of every second that ticked by, every breath you took, every time Renjun moved the slightest inch. It was just too uncomfortable. Perhaps he felt the same, as he grasped his eating utensil tightly, doing nothing more than stare at the meal.

You held in a disappointed sigh, shifting in your seat awkwardly. Neither of you were big talkers anyway, but this wasn’t the comfortable silence you were accustomed to with Renjun.

“How was work?” you asked in a small voice, straightening your back when he lifted his head to look at you.

“It was fine.”

The reality of the situation was becoming too clear. Rain pattered the windows, you could hear the laugh of a passerby in the hallway, probably coming from a late Saturday party. The white, clean walls of a spacey kitchen never felt so small, so suffocating. You were like a burning match, and Renjun was the oxygen that could either blow you out or feed your flames.

By now he would’ve talked your ear off about the managers at work who seemed too demanding for his taste, or the girls that would constantly hit on him, or he would bring up the small succulent you gifted him a while ago that he took care of every day while working. You wondered about his friends and his coworkers, wondering how they were doing. He never talked about them anymore. He didn’t talk about anything anymore, in fact, not with you.

He couldn’t even look you in the eyes anymore.

You had to leave. You stood, the sound of your chair scraping across the linoleum floor harshly ripping through the thick silence. It was pouring outside but you needed to get away. Renjun didn’t move, he knew you both needed it for now. He let you walk past him, heading out the door with only your keys and phone in hand.

It was eating him inside out. You used to look at him with entire galaxies in your eyes, your smile that lit the world brighter than Renjun had ever seen. It was on rainy nights like this that he would take you out to the park and you would sit on a bench, sharing the same umbrella but getting soaked anyway. You would both chuckle at the people running by, hurrying to get some shelter in the cold rain and he would wrap his arm around you, pulling you in so close. The pleasant feeling in your chest was warmer than any jacket you’ve ever worn.

The stars would fall mercy at your feet, for you shined brighter than any of them. Renjun could spend hours painting you, just you. The dainty way your hand held his, the lips that whispered sleepy “l love you’s” every morning, your luscious hair that would tickle him from time to time. And when you laughed, Renjun loved you even more then. Even if it was a quiet, content laugh, or a loud chortle that left you breathless, he could never get enough of it.

It was so cliché but Renjun used to love you like that.

The following day was equally as bleak as the one before.

You stood by the window once again, watching the raindrops race to the bottom of the glass, remembering the times you did that as a child, betting with yourself to see which one made it down first.

This time the sun was nowhere to be seen, obscured by the heavy gray clouds that cried tears. Fog covered the buildings outside like a morbid blanket, and you could feel the chilly air seeping in through the glass when you placed your fingertips on it.

Today was your anniversary with Renjun, and you could only hope that something good came out of the dinner you prepared.

You took your time waiting in the kitchen, watering your flora who were also looking a bit brighter even without the sun. Smiling as you looked down at them, thinking about how they were something to look forward to in your black and white world.

Glancing at the time, you noticed it was getting a bit late, but that was a lie. You were getting ahead of yourself. Renjun was usually on time, arriving around 7:30 pm, and it was barely 7:50. You hoped he didn’t forget what day it was because it would make things even more awkward.

Just as you were placing the last plate on the table, the door opened and Renjun entered, his trademark sweater on and keys in hand. At least that was one thing about him that never changed.

He saw what you had prepared and, for the first time in a while, you saw a small smile on his face. Before you could greet him, he held out his hand, a little flower peeking out from his grasp.

“Happy anniversary,” he said softly.

Your heart sank. It was a single jasmine blossom, a flower that used to be your favorite.

Used to be.

You wouldn’t put it against Renjun for not knowing how much you despised that flower now, hating the sickly sweet smell that drove your anxiety up the wall.

Renjun smelled of spring rain over a jasmine field.

Nonetheless, you plucked the flower from his hand and inhaled its scent, ignoring the way it made your stomach churn as you gently smiled at him. “Happy anniversary,” you repeated, struggling to keep your smile bright. “I made dinner.”

Once the both of you sat down, you tapped your fingers on the table, contemplating if you should fight the silence or let it win again today. Renjun seemed to be deep in thought as well, his hands folded on his lap and his brows furrowed in that way they do when he’s focused on something. His eyes were fixated on your restless hand, and you couldn’t help but assume he was staring at the empty spot where your ring used to be. You clenched your fist and retracted it, mirroring his pose with your hands in your lap. Renjun shook out of his daze and pursed his lips, stabbing at the food on his plate.

“Why are we even doing this?” you spoke, your voice a bit wobbly.

Renjun didn’t even have to ask to know what you were talking about, yet he still felt his heart squeeze at your question. “I don’t know.”

“We’re basically roommates, Renjun. We’re two people that live in the same house but never interact. Why do we keep doing this?” The volume of your voice escalated desperately, and you searched him for an answer but he didn’t look up.

“I don’t know!” he blurted out forcefully.

You pushed your plate away, your appetite suddenly gone. “I don’t think we can make this work anymore.” He stayed silent while you continued. “I’m miserable—we both are.”

The truth was Renjun was afraid of letting you go. He was afraid of coming home to an empty house, of sleeping in an empty bed, of having no one to console him when he was upset. You and him used to live in harmony at some point, a routine where you would understand each other and work together. He’d grown so used to you, the idea of you, that he felt sick thinking of a life without you.

He was afraid of being alone.

Outside the rain came down in waves. It pounded on the window, asking for attention while you waited for Renjun to say something.

He didn’t.

Instead, the sky roared with thunder and a faroff bolt of lightning struck the ground, lighting up the world momentarily. The lightbulb above you flickered once then gave out, as did the rest of the light sources throughout the kitchen. The refrigerator stopped humming, the AC stopped clicking, and the numbers on the microwave faded away, leaving you to stare at your ex-fiancé in the dark.

Renjun couldn’t stand the way you looked at him anymore. Though some of the light in your eyes had faded, they were still filled with hope and trust. At the end of the day you continued to wait for him with open arms. He felt undeserving of your love.

You left the table first, the food laying untouched while Renjun let you walk away again. If he had anything to say in that moment, it stayed painfully lodged in his throat, his own pride choking him up.

A couple months ago, your first fights were terrible. You both raised your voices, ignored each other, even refused to sleep in the same bed (Renjun would stay with a friend when it got bad). He never liked thinking about those times, regretting each and every word he ever directed at you and hating the pain in your expression after. He especially disliked recalling the tears in your eyes when you slid the diamond ring off your finger and placed it in his palm.

After silently clearing the table and checking the breakers, Renjun found his way to the bedroom in the dark, seeing your curled up form under the covers. He didn’t acknowledge you as he slid in next to you, turning his back like always and pulling the covers up to his chin, careful not to pull your side too much.

He closed his eyes but did not sleep, his thoughts running too rampant to let him. Even if he did sleep, he dreamt only of you. Of when you first met, of your first date, of the day he got on one knee and asked for your hand. He could never forget the happiness in your voice, the jubilant smile you wore beautifully.

“Renjun,” he heard you whisper into the inky bedroom, the sound just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m cold.”

It was anything but cold under the blankets, but Renjun did feel chilled, hollow. Like he was disconnected from his body somehow. “I know,” he replied quietly. “Me too.”

You didn’t respond but he turned, cautiously putting his arm around you and you let him, tears springing to your eyes. It had been a while since you laid in this position with him, you nestled in his chest while he buried his nose in your neck or hair and he was so close you could feel each breath he took. It felt strange yet familiar, like that sense of déjà vu you get when it feels like you already went through something. But maybe your brain conjured up this bittersweet dream, maybe this reality was just in your head.

Maybe Renjun would still love you when you woke up.

“Your flowers are dead.”

Renjun stood by the window, a dry, wilted leaf resting on his finger. He studied it for a moment, and then let it go. It crumbled to pieces.

“I don’t care about them anymore,” you voiced. “It took me too much effort to keep them alive.”

He nodded in understanding, though he knew those plants meant a lot to you. Sometimes on days when you were tired, he’d remind you to water them or even do it himself. Not once had your flowers ever looked the way they did now—dull, withered, dead.

A long, painful beat of silence passed. Renjun gazed out the window, taking in the familiar sun that hasn’t shown itself in days. The heavy clouds had finally lifted that day, revealing a fading orange and red sky. You watched him from the counter, the way the golden light bounced off his skin, creating a heavenly, ethereal glow. The silver bracelet he wore on his wrist reflected the beams, projecting them onto the ceiling above.

You looked down, away from the man who you promised your life to once upon a time. A million thoughts raced through your head, too cryptic to comprehend. All you knew was that whatever you and Renjun had hurt too much to keep going. Clenching your fist, you braced yourself for your next words.

“Let’s end this Renjun.”

For once, he turned to look at you, his eyes dry of tears but filled with pain. Every fiber of his being screamed for you, to be happy in your arms again, to hear the words ‘my love’ fall from your lips one more time. He bit his lip and pushed down those longing thoughts, the ones that were on his mind far too much these days.

He made the hardest decision of his life—he chose to let go of you. On that day, that minute, that split second, he looked into your eyes and knew it was the end of a love story.

Renjun knew he loved you, but he fell out of love with you a long time ago.

You were once his morning and night sky, his sunflower fields, his walk in the clouds. Whoever the creator was smiled upon you, blessing you with a kind of spirit that brought peace and adventure at the same time. Being with you felt like an impulsive car ride along the coastline, the wind blowing your hair wildly, screaming and throwing your arms up as if it was a rollercoaster ride. Or like a lazy afternoon, sleeping the whole day while the sun made its path across the sky, only being woken up by kisses and giggles and legs tangled in the bedsheets.

Beyond your monotonous life were other people also moving on. Friends came and went, that random stranger you saw on the street you would probably never see again, enjoying an unfamiliar song in a cafe that would slip your mind as soon as you left. People lived, people died, but the world kept revolving, never stopping, never giving anyone a break.

That was the beauty of it.

Renjun didn’t feel angry or sad or even bitter. He was thankful. He was thankful for the countless moments spent with you, for all the laughs and tears you shared, for the quiet and loud moments, for the breath of air you were to him. You were a novel in itself, your pages filled with words upon words of stories and little problems you ran into. Renjun felt thankful to have appeared in a few of those lines, maybe even a whole chapter filled with nothing but him.

But books, too, ended eventually.

The last blow to his heart was when he looked back, seeing you standing in the doorway with a wounded expression. The windows behind you were as translucent as ever, pouring light over your perfect form. Your hair flared brightly from the orange backlight and you leaned on the frame, one second away from screaming at him to come back.

He considered returning, mumbling an ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ but that would only delay the inevitable, not stop it. At the end of the day, it was still over. But it was okay, because looking back now at all the love you used to share, he realized it was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: cuties!! hehe we’re finally getting...a couple things in this chapter that i’ve been wanting to share sooo bad! i added question marks to some of the tags to make it more of a surprise! i love hearing what ya thought of it! hehe <3 

Five 

Pairing: self insert, (?) x female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut and angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, informantandclubowner!changbin (loll thats so long), (?)!felix, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, mentions of alcoholic drinks and getting drunk, hehe bit of smut/suggestive content (tags omitted for surprise--nothing crazy to tag tho hehe), maknae line are my sons in this fic, binnie in this fic can fkn take me lol 

CWs: sizable shoot out in public club with several people involved, presumed that people die because of this event, lots blood and other wounds such as gunshot wounds, mentions of drugs (both recreational and hard drugs) mentions of weapons such as knives and guns--the whole scene is violent 

Word count: 8.5k 

Parts 

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE 

“Five years later and I’m still tying your ties, F. Some things never change.” 

Jeongin cracks a smile, simple and cute, much like the man himself even when he has a handgun glued to his hand. 

“It’s still a harder task than some of the stuff that they have us doing. Not gonna lie.” 

You smooth down your partner’s lapels where he’s pinned a small pin of the ticking clock. While others would wear crests, the insignia that bonds you to the younger man is this this small instrument. He’s quiet while he watches you fiddle with his silk blue tie that compliments his snow white hair perfectly. 

“Are you nervous for tonight?” 

Your partner upkeeps his stoic façade the best he can, but tonight there’s something different about him. His silent answer speaks louder than he could ever admit. On the queen sized bed, Seungmin kicks his perfectly shined shoes while flipping through the channels of the TV with a staticky sounding click. Jeongin lightly brushes his hand over the diamond dangling earrings that twinkle as they are supposed to from your ears--likely they’re crystals, not the more expensive jewel. 

“I’m not nervous,” He finally sighs, but there’s a bit of a crack to his voice. “I trust you. And Two. I’m trying to focus on that.” 

“It’ll be fine.” You assure, “White Rabbit must have his own security that would be at his beck and call. If anyone shoots at us, they’re shooting at him. We’re not alone.” 

The young agent nods, then gives a little slap to the college student on the bed. “Get up. We’re leaving. Remember what I showed you?” 

Jeongin draws from the bedside a small handgun. It’s more decorative than protective, but still fires bullets that could save his life. 

“Keep it in your breast pocket. Make sure that no one sees it. We don’t wanna cause a scene.” 

Seungmin’s eyes widen as he feels its weight in his hand. “Got it. I hope I don’t have to use it.” 

“Me too,” You give the youngster a soothing smile. “And remember, don’t tell anyone your name. When you’re in there, your name is S. Better yet, it’s best not to interact with anyone.” 

He nods, then slides it into the thin fabric of his coat. The young man looks considerably more dapper with The Agency’s clothes: a deep purple velvet two piece with silver cufflinks decorated with white roses--another symbol that you’ve grown familiar with. 

The prince saunters up to the bedroom with a slick tap at the opened door. He oozes with regality; not like you expected any less. The royal has dressed himself magnificently without the aid of his help once more: a pure black silk suit with a smart pressed white button up that’s spotless with not one crinkle. The while shirt itself is adorned with two thin silver chains which stretch across his lower torso. At the neck where the shirt meets its last button, there’s a floral brooch: one more more white rose for good measure. 

“Wow!!” Seungmin respectfully bows. “Your Highness, you look--” 

“--I didn’t fuck up the hair, did I?” 

Chan grins as he brings his fingers through his newly colored hair; its much lighter than his dark locks had been before: now a shade of tawny brown. The change to his appearance had come at the request of the palace who suggested that he try to conceal his identity even further as to not arouse suspicion. 

“Handsome as ever, your Highness.” You sneer out the compliment. 

Since the previous night had turned sour, seeing eye to eye with the prince had become harder to do. It was a wild confliction of feelings when you thought more and more of it. With every glance that he would throw in your direction, along with way that he had stared at you all through breakfast, you couldn’t meet him. You felt as if you had borne a wound for him to see, for him to poke at--the secret kind that was best kept to yourself--and he had dug his finger in; he had laughed. 

The prince tilted his head, and you met his eyes for the first time since then. There was a softness about him when you knew that he was inspecting you. You knew you must’ve been overthinking it--and that was what made it so dangerous. 

“Looking stunning as always, Bee. I knew that you would wear that dress well.” 

You let the words, “Thank you,” leave your tongue before toying with the small handbag provided to you. As always, your thigh holster held steady under your dress. 

Four clicks at the suite door sounded, startling nearly everyone in the room, revealing everyone’s nerves which they had denied. 

“That’ll be Lee Minho.” Chan announced. 

Two answered the door in his own costuming. The two men bowed upon meeting, a usual meeting between strangers. The agent lead him to the room, and the royal buttoned his own suit properly. 

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m Lee--” 

“--Minho.” Jeongin dryly cut, “We know who you are.” 

Luckily, you and your partner shared the same apprehension. 

“I’m Fox. You’ve met Bee. The young kid is S, he’s a new agent. The quiet one that let you in is Two.” 

Minho bowed politely with a slight blush. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you were well protected, Your Highness.” 

Chan chuckled in response then clapped the other royal by the back. 

“You look amazing,” Minho said to the prince who shooed him away with a humble hand. 

“You as well.” 

Chan sized up the royal who indeed looked like one. His suit was a simplier charcoal grey with pinstripes with a white undershirt that ruffled at the collar. Not typical of the royals that you knew, he also wore dangling silver earrings that would have never passed the royal standard for professionalism. However, it made sense considering that he had been of a lower rank. 

“Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, shall we head out?” Chan put a very obvious hand to the lower back of Lee Minho while checking with the rest of the group. “It’s best not to keep him waiting?” 

Your partner nodded and ushered the group out while giving his body one more pat down to ensure that all concealed weapons were in place. Two checked the assortment of knives tucked discreetly into his own jacket. The man had some kind of wicked and unidentifiable grin while he felt the metal against his fingers. You exited at the rear, feeling a hand tug at your arm. 

“--Bee, I’m sorry about what happened...I’m...I hope that you can understand my motivations as to why I said what I did, it didn’t seem like the right time--” 

“--There will never be a right time.” You tore your arm free. “Your Highness, what happened...that was a mistake on my part. I acted out of line. There will never be a right time because...I’m your guard, and you’re my prince. Do you understand?” 

“But Bee--” 

“--End of discussion,” The words burned in your throat seeing the way that he had looked at you just then, and it was clear that he definitely didn’t understand. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

You had heard that the White Rabbit had been a prideful man--this was now an indisputable fact once you pulled up to the roaring nightclub set into one of the busiest streets on the avenue in Cairo. Everything about the place was showy and bright and outrageous. It was a miracle that the man hadn’t been caught considering that his home base was as obvious as it was. The entire front of the night club shone with the brilliance of a million stars in a hundred different colors. A giant marquee held the signage with the title of the place, “The Tea Party” coupled with the image of the white rabbit himself--the one from the old movie--a stout little thing with his pocket watch swinging from his paw. His neck was wrapped up in a white ruff, and he wore a frock pattered in red hearts. 

A line stretched from the front entrance for as far as you could see, and clubbers swung their bodies in tune to the muffled sound of the EDM music thumping from inside and throwing cigarette butts to the sidewalk. 

“Do we just walk in?” Seungmin hurriedly asked with nervous hands wrapped around his body. 

“We’re expected, so, yes.” You snaked your arm through Jeongin’s to look even less conspicuous. “Just relax,” You commanded the group lowly. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw the prince slug his arm around Lee Minho who appeared to shrink under the other man’s broad shoulders. 

Two large bouncers stood at the entrance with muscles swelling under their shirts stained pink in areas which you assumed to have been white at some point. 

“Names?” One of them grunted rather than spoke. 

From his pocket, your partner took out his very own pocket watch that had been hidden with the rest of your supplies upon arrival to Cairo. On the opposite side of the watch was engraved the two symbols intertwined: the white rabbit and the the white rose. The two men inspected it, nodded, and opened the door for your small entourage. As soon as you entered the booming central room, you could see Seungmin’s shoulders drop as he relaxed. 

“There should be someone meeting us!” Jeongin yelled over the sound of the white noise leading to the bass drop. Hundreds of clubbers danced with the music, throwing their glasses to the air and howling like animals. You wouldn’t have been surprised if at least half of them had been strung out on the very drugs that the man himself had helped peddle. 

The young agent pulled you closer to him as stumbling bodies passed. 

“They could be here. We have to be on our guard.” 

“Let me watch the prince.” 

Jeongin nodded, letting you recede to the back of the group where Two had tailed. His eye wound hadn’t healed nearly enough, so he opted to wear the sunglasses once more. It was likely that word had spread about the four of you escaped twice--his eye was evidence. From behind the group, you watched the way the the prince’s hand fell down hold Lee Minho by the hip, and the way that his fingers dug in there slightly. As much as you had denied it, seeing them close brought back the very covetous thoughts you tried to keep at bay. 

A slender woman with gorgeous tanned skin pushed her way through the crowd and set her eyes on the white head of your partner. Her dress was even thinner than yours, but she wore it as if it was her second skin. The luxurious red color contrasted perfectly with her dark hair and eyes. 

“Are you Fox?” She asked with a thick accent, and cascaded her hand down the young man’s arm. 

“Y-yes. I am.”

“Bun asked me to bring you to him. I know the way.” 

She let her hand fall into Jeongin’s who whipped his head back to you with dry lips that he wetted immediately. You had expected to have been retrieved by someone a bit stockier than this woman. 

“He’s trying to get our guard down.” Two said suddenly as he reached into his pocket to thumb over his stockpile of metal there. “Don’t you think?” 

The woman took your group near to the corner of the room where bodies didn’t linger for long, but were drawn in the mosh pit in the center. Tables lined these edges which were fashioned into booths with red velvet curtains for privacy to do much more sinister things. The room smelled heavily of pure alcohol spilled by drunk hands and of synthetic fabrics made of cheap plastics. A dozen different fragrances mingled into one dizzying mess: each a scent so different and chemical that it was toxic. 

She walked with a swing to her hips, all the way to a booth that was a bit larger than the others--you could only assume that this must’ve been his booth. The woman gestured for you all to enter before drawing the curtain. At the center of the table, the rabbit’s symbol had been burned into the wood. She wore some kind of thin diamond bracelet which she hovered over the image, causing a winding staircase to pop from the carpeted floor down to a hidden chamber. 

“Take the stairs, and it you’ll see it once you get down there.” 

Your partner have her a curt nod in thanks, then lead the group further down. A soft green and red glow emanated from the space below, also humming with a concealed type of music different from that which was played in the club. From here, it nearly sounded like jazz. 

The corridor under the club was bleak and grey with cement, but wooden crates lined it with stamps on the sides in numerous different languages. Your brain could only fathom where the contents had been before they ended up in this basement. It must have been millions of dollars just sitting undisturbed with enough firepower to blow up the whole building and more. 

“Guns. Military grade and a little more improper,” Minho sighed out. “He must have every model in existence here.” 

“Do you think that he has like...missiles?” Seungmin reached for his small handgun. 

“Ease up S.” You tried to contain your own creeping fear, “Those would be too big to keep down here.” 

“Who says that this is his whole stockpile?” Two deadpanned as he cleaned his glasses. 

At the end of the hall, one more bulky guard stood expressionless with a small sized machine gun ready in his hands. He opened the door without saying much else, letting loose the red and green lights you had seen before, and with it, the putrid smell of expensive drink and marijuana. 

The smaller room was only lit by strobes with multicolored gels, and it was dense with the smoke of many number of drugs and vices. There was a small bar with a bartender with bagged eyes and a swath of women in cocktail dresses and men with ties tugged nearly all the way off their necks with lipstick marks pressed into them. 

A single disco ball spun above their heads, spreading shiny squares all across the room. Even more guards waited in the same uniform, but these ones looked more expensive--likely his own personal detail wearing gaudy chains and wrist watches inlaid with diamonds and crested in real gold. 

“My friends! You were able to make it!” 

The man of the hour spread his legs wide on his leather couch set upon a lion’s coat rug, complete with a head and marble eyes and all. At his sides were two more women more unique than the rest: both of them was breathtakingly gorgeous, one of them jeweled like a queen with a thick gold choker that resembled that which old Egyptian royalty would. Her head was smoothed with no hair at all, but instead intricate and beautiful tattoos decorated her like some kind of otherworldly being. The other woman had a cat-like face with two differently colored eyes; one hazel green and the other icy blue contrasting with her fiery orange hair. 

“Carroll told me that you had a bit of trouble before you got here. I’m glad to see that you were able to get here in one piece. It only seems like things are getting more and more...risky these days. Even for people like us.” 

“We’re not “people like you,” Rabbit.” You pushed to the font of the group. 

The club owner himself was dressed in a purely white fur coat which you presumed to be made of real fur. Considering the material, it must’ve been made from the fur of snow foxes--an interesting choice considering your partner’s persona. The smaller man with a thick and muscled form took off his yellow tinted sunglasses to tuck them into his wildly printed shirt that had tiny buttons doing the work of keeping his chest covered. 

“Babydoll! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard all about you. Your reputation precedes you.” He took a rather greedy bite to his lip whilst looking you up and down. The white dress must have been doing it’s job well. 

“Babydoll?” Chan asked with furrowed brows. “What is--who is--?” 

“As does your reputation, Rabbit. I wouldn’t have expected less.” 

The proud man snorted, “I hope this doesn’t mean that you’ve got any...preconceived notions about my lifestyle. Our dear friend Carroll doesn’t seem to.” 

“Of course not.” 

“And you...you must be the Prince of Bulgeun! His Royal Highness Prince Chan of the Crown!” The White Rabbit spread out his arms wide in welcome. “I don’t often get royalty in my club--lots of celebrities and the like.” He leaned over to one of his guards, speaking in Egyptian Arabic and asking for drinks for the group. 

“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Chan bowed deep. 

“So respectful!” The White Rabbit chuckled, “You can all call me Bun. We’re all friends here. And you...who might you be?” Bun pointed a finger at Minho who stepped forward. 

“Baron Lee Minho, of Bulgeun as well.” 

“Ah! And a Baron too! How did I get so lucky to have such honorable company?” Cat-face ticked her long nails against the club owner’s hand slung around her. 

“You know what we’re here for, Rabbit. There’s no need for theatrics.” Jeongin huffed his words out with a confident breath. 

“You’re the one that they call Fox? Rumor has it that you and Carroll have a rather...special...connection?” 

The bartender arrived with drinks, each of them looking expensive with flecks of gold leaf floating on the surface of the clear liquid. Seungmin shot an apprehensive glare once the glasses were left on a small side table. As had been discussed previously, none of your group had picked up a glass. 

The woman with beautiful tattoos stretched a hand down one of the White Rabbit’s thighs, reaching dangerously high between them; just enough to make you flinch from the forward action. 

“Baby, I see that you’re playing a dangerous game towing this Price around, so of course I’m willing to help a friend of my friend. You’re lucky that I’ve got just the intel that you need. Some people just don’t know how to shut their mouths, especially when the get a taste of what I’m selling.” 

“Oh? And what have you been hearing?” 

You eyed a leather chair across from him seeing an opportunity. 

“Your Highness.” You motioned for Chan to sit in the chair next to yours, swinging your legs crossed to peek from the thin white silk in full view for the Rabbit to see. After, you dipped your chin into your palm, just for the purpose of letting the front of your dress fall slightly. The prince remained quiet while taking his seat and spreading his legs out strongly. 

“If it’s compensation that you need Rabbit, the Crown is also willing to make offers for added...persuasion.” 

Chan crossed his fingers in his lap leaning forward. His words were slick and domineering--kingly even. 

“Is that so?” The White Rabbit tugged at his lip with his teeth, “I wasn’t aware.” 

“Double what The Agency is offering. If I like what you say.” 

The club owner scoffed with a grin, “Oh, you’ll like what I say.” Cat-face lifted his drink to his lips, then wiped off the excess off with her finger. Both of the body guards appeared to tense before he spoke and tried to be inconspicuous while they reached for their decorated pieces resting in their waistbands. 

“Hell, I’ll even tell you what they call themselves.” 

In your impatience, you leaned forward, “Who are they?” 

“They’re called The Spades. Some kind of new crime syndicate that’s been fucking up my business and making bargains with my customers. Of course, as you know...I work in a very lucrative business.” 

“Naturally.” 

“They’ve been stockpiling shit like crazy: all kinds of weapons, any kind that you can think of outside of fucking nukes. They’ve even tapped into drugs as well to make extra on the side. I don’t know what it is that they’re doing that makes them so appealing, but suddenly I’m missing out on millions because of those fuckers. They’ve got someone masterminding it all too--some crazed bastard. I’ve been trying to find him ever since they popped up.” He resumed his grasp on both of his women who cuddled into him. 

“Mastermind? The one who’s running the whole operation? You know him?” Both you and your partner locked eyes quick enough for the other man to not take notice. 

“No, one of his cronies. He runs the business. He’s illusive and fucking insane. Someone whispered once that he’s psychotic or something like that. You think that I’m bad...” 

“Who?? Who is he? Where can we find him?” 

“Slow your role there doll, I’m just getting to the good part.” The Rabbit nodded for another sip of his drink. “He’s got several names depending on who you’re talking to. Fucking funnily enough, I’ve heard that he goes by “Hatter,” or more commonly “Joker.” He deals in anything: arms, drugs, sex...and he works for The King.” 

“The King?” Chan butted in with the mention of a royal name. 

“Not your silly little king, prince. The King. The one who runs it all. He tells The Spades what to do. They’re everywhere, taking over every sector in every nation. They’re trying to dismantle it all--every political system, monarchy, presidency...everything. It looks like they’re starting with you, prince. The Spades preach about chaos. Every man for himself...but it’s a lie. Why the hell else would they be stockpiling? They’re trying to take it all over.” 

Seungmin gulped audibly as he sunk to the back of the group. 

“When there’s no more control the ones with the most resources always end up on top.” The young student whispered. 

“This King, do you know who he is?” Jeongin spoke over Seungmin to detract attention from him. 

“Nope.” The White Rabbit swung his legs up on the small coffee table with alligator leather shoes. “I’ve been a little focused on taking down the Joker at the moment, for your information.” 

“What’s your intel on him then? He must know how to get to The King.” Minho pushed to the front of the group right to Chan’s side. “We’re not satisfied with your information yet.” 

The Baron’s sudden demand surprised you: he had been timid before--so you had thought. 

The club owner looked to Chan, keeper of his “persuasion” who nodded to prompt him for more. 

“He’s on some island off Greece. Private. Tight security, the kind that could shoot you out of the sky.” 

“Impressive.” You tutted, feigning confidence once more. “What more do you know?” 

The woman with the bangled necklace whispered something in his ear once peeking at a small old-model cellphone in her hand, brushing her lips over his earlobe. Over the sound system, the jazz music turned sultry, and both women moved to join the other intoxicated clubbers in the back to sway around brass poles. 

“There’s the freckled bastard. He’s the grunt--and the one that’s been chasing you I think. Real nuisance isn’t he? He’s the Knave. Had a few run ins with him myself.” 

You thought back to the gas station and the black SUVs. Between all the shards of glass, it had been hard to make anyone out, but you had figured that he had must’ve been one of the men throwing their bodies out of the windows to shoot. 

The Rabbit chuckled out with some kind of hand signal to his guards. “Knowing him, he could be right outside my door for that matter.” 

Jeongin’s eyes flew open, sending you “the look.” Your time was running out. Judging by the way that you hadn’t noticed that the Rabbit’s women had cleared out the other clubbers from the room, they must’ve known something that you didn’t. The club owner stood up with a languid stretch and cracked his knuckles. 

“We probably don’t have much more time before they come in here guns blazing. Best protect your prince, hm?” 

“Rabbit! You must know something about The King?!” You crossed the room to grab at his frim and fuzzy arm. 

He slyly smiled, amused by your grip, “Like I said doll, no one knows much about him. Your Baron has got it right. Start with the Joker. But...” His grin cracked even wider, “Good luck.” 

Seungmin tugged at Two’s dress coat as the two bulky bodyguards took The Rabbit by the arms to escort him. 

“What's going on??” The young man’s voice cracked with urgency. 

“Ready that gun of yours.” Two said lowly with gritted teeth. 

He strode across the room with his fur coat lazily swaying, then raised the golden rings on his fingers to the air as he exited. He threw his yellow tinted glasses back on, before turning back to your stunned group. 

“I estimate that you’ve got...three minutes? --Oh! And one more thing!” 

The white fabric of your dress swept to the side, revealing your thigh holster which you grabbed at quickly. 

“What?!” 

“Every King’s got his Queen? Does he not?” 

The enigmatic club owner slipped into the shadows of his private room, leaving your group with the sound of clambering feet on the floor above, followed by muffled gunshots. 

“They’re here?” Seungmin readied his small handgun as he was told and looked to the ceiling where the lights flickered from the commotion. “They found us?” 

Two twirled two knives in his hands with a silvery glint. Both of the blades were a bit on the shorter side, but you were certain that he knew how to use them. “They’re always following us.” 

“We need to get out of here.” Lee Minho drew out his own gun concealed by his suit. It was custom with a pearl handle. You had seconds to make out the insignia, but you could make out the shape of what looked like a red rose. “The place must be crawling with them. We need to find the exit.” 

Your partner nodded while taking his own gun. “Stay close, Your Highness. Follow me.”

“Bee?” The prince called your name with a worried cross between his brows. “Give me a gun. Hand-to-hand is nothing against these guys. I’ll stay close. I promise.” 

While he held your eyes earnestly, the way that his chest heaved up and down told you something much different. 

“You can handle it?”

“I can.” 

Jeongin passed him a Glock from the holster strapped behind his shoulders. 

You made your way back through halls lit by hissing fluorescent lights with a white burn to them. The crates of weaponry stretched on and on, adding to your unease knowing what could happen if a bullet were to be fired in this hallway. Thick rats skittered in the dank edges of the hall and weaved between boxes labeled in Spanish. 

“Drugs.” Minho gripped his gun tighter. “From the looks of it, cocaine.” 

Above your heads, a giant boom resounded and dust with drywall fell from the lights that flickered harder. 

“Its a fucking maze down here.” Jeongin tapped at his watch in an attempt to find a schematic of the place. 

The college student wetted his lips. “At least we’re not up there with them.” 

“At least the lead worked out. We know more about these...Spades than we did before. It’s a start.” You tailed the back of the group with careful footsteps and the click of your heels against the cement flooring. 

Another resounding boom echoed followed by the shrill screams of clubbers above. It sounded hellish--you could hear the raw fear in their voices. The music thudded on, likely abandoned by someone running for their life. The Prince’s knuckles turned white holding onto his piece of metal near the front of the group. 

“F, you know the way up?” 

“I-I think. We should be approaching some stairs soon, but there’s nottelling who will be on the other side.” 

Two tore off his sunglasses and shoved them into his breast pocket. “We’ll be damn lucky if they haven’t found the hotel yet. If not, we’ve got to run.” 

“My laptop??” Seungmin whimpered. 

“That damn Chromebook? Don’t worry about it, your life is more important.” Jeongin scoffed. “The Agency can set you up with something even better.” 

“I can’t believe that at a time like this all I can think about is my stupid computer.” The young man shook the thought out of his head. 

“Stairs up ahead.” Jeongin pointed. “Get ready.” 

“Chan?” You pulled at the prince’s trim to his coat. 

“I’m fine Bee. Honestly. I trust you.” He attempted a smile. The same smile, that damned charming one that couldn’t get out of your head. 

Minho looked back to the prince too with worry, it had been the most sincere motion that you had seen him do as of yet. He reached out to squeeze the royal’s shoulder with a soft smile. 

“Don’t go dying on us Your Highness. Think about what that would mean for the kingdom?” He chuckled. 

“I’ll try my best,” The prince returned the gesture. 

Jeongin reached for the metal door handle to the teal green door cracking with paint. The sound of machine guns had grown even louder, followed by the sound of the shells hitting the wooden dance floor. The air was thin where it crept under the door and carried with it the horrid smell of smoking guns and spilled alcohol. 

“Two, Bee, form rank around the group, I’ll lead.” 

Two nodded, popping gum into his mouth and blowing large electric blue bubble. “Can do.” Both of his hands tightened around his blades.  

“One...Two...Three!” 

Time slowed the second that the door opened, and your ears rang with the deathly silence. Bodies to the left and right of you became a blur and they fell to the floor in the silence with their limbs twitching until they didn’t move at all. White collars turned red, as did the white tablecloths of the standing tables. The strobes pranced around the room in a multicolored shower that was as blinding and stained your eyes. 

The men in black suits and leather gloves scattered around the room with their red crests glinting. They shouted commands at eachother, but to you, all you could see was the way that their lips curved and cracked. In front of you, your partner leads with a hand gesture that you had memorized from training, and all of your focus was drawn the the back of the group. The trigger of your gun was cold on your finger: you pulled and pulled not even pausing to feel the way that it fought back against your wrist. The men were sprinting with their own guns tight in their hands, but each of them fell before they could get close. 

Two’s mouth was in a flat line as he threw tiny blades from his hands to the chests of men running across the balconies and hiding from behind tables. He appeared to have an infinite amount in his coat and saved the longer and more lethal ones for close connections, subsequently dipping his own fingers in red. 

The young college student trudged on in the center of the group with his head tucked firmly between his two shoulders. Clear streams of tears fell down his eyes, but he wiped at them furiously between each shot that he took with his small handgun. Next to him, the two royals kept their own heads low aiming shots around them to backup you and your partners. 

Their footsteps came echoing behind you, and you walked backwards, taking aim with one eye squinted, while barking out commands from your mouth that you barely even understood. Your heartbeat bumped in your chest nearly in tune with the thudding 808′s of the music that reverberated in your ears. Each of the Spades moved as if they were shadows over the bodies of the fallen, leaping and jumping, nearly floating over dining tables and sweeping off the glassware and silverware with them as they did so. 

“BEE, I’M ALMOST OUT!” Jeongin screamed to you nearly before reaching the front revolving doors. 

Two tossed another magazine in the young agent’s direction, then threw another dagger with startling accuracy. 

For seconds at a time you could see how Minho’s eyes had narrowed with his aim, and he too met every target exactly where he wanted. You figured that the royal must have trained himself well to have that kind of precision. The way that he appeared perfectly calm was startling: his dark eyes squinted and he turned his body swiftly with little effort. 

“Fuck--I’M OUT OF ROUNDS!” The prince bellowed before ducking under Minho’s arm which immediately swung over him. 

You closed in closer to the group, using your body as a shield for the prince’s back. 

Your partner cast aside fallen chairs and tables in his wake, as one of the thugs charged at him. In response, he threw his gun into his waistband, opting to slung the man with a hurried uppercut that sent him spitting blood to the floor before falling, “We’re almost there! Keep pushing!!” 

“SHIT!!!” Seungmin groaned out before dropping his small gun to the ground, he trembled with his leg dragging behind him, then soon his pants soaked with a dark stain to his slacks. 

“BEE LOOK OUT!!” A voice screamed, seconds before you could register it.

Your head whipped back to the chaos of the club, seeing the “freckled bastard” himself point his decorated riffle at you point blank with a wicked grin on his face. He looked purely evil. There was something about the way that his ears poked, or how his eyes upturned that made him look devilish when his pearly white teeth peeked once he took his shot. He had ashy blonde hair that had strung with sweat over his forehead, and blood wetted the tip of his dress shoes. He cocked his head to the side, as he did too with his gun before the deafening shot cracked through the room. 

You were shocked trying to memorize his face, and frozen in your fear from the barrel of the gun facing you right between the eyes. 

An excruciatingly tight grasp at your arm pulled you to the side before you could react, throwing you to the hardwood floors before whoever it was pulled themselves in front of the bullet. Your vision was rocked when you hit the floor, missing the glass revolving door by centimeters. 

“Y/N!” Your partner screamed, waking you from your haze as the room started to piece back together. “You good?!” 

Another hand grabbed you to your feet before shoving you through the door, lightly slinging your arm around his shoulder before taking your gun from your trembling hand to take a few more shots. You realized it was Two this close, and tiny flecks of red splattered at his neck. 

“Fuck--give me that--” You grabbed the gun from his hand to fire every bullet that was left at the freckled bastard until you couldn’t any more, and the cool of the evening stung at your heaving lungs once your group reached the sidewalk. 

Outside of the venue, clubbers scrambled and ran the streets still shrieking in their fear and tripping over their heeled shoes. 

“Chan?? Chan--where-where’s the prince??” The words spilled from your lips in your pure adrenaline. 

Right behind you only a couple paces away, the prince stood pale with Seungmin holding between them a groaning and gasping Minho who barely held on to the two men. A bullet wound soaked his black suit jacket, and the red crept up to his white frilled collar.” The wound made a hole right in his shoulder with a visible circle. 

Jeongin sprinted to the back of the group looking disheveled himself with sleeves hastily pulled up to his elbows. “Shit--shit!!” 

“S-move aside. MOVE!” You commanded the whimpering young man who gave you Minho’s other arm. You wrapped around his wasit and dragged the heavy weight of the man who had just saved your life. 

The prince dryly smacked his lips then scanned the street for more of the Spades in his daze. 

“Y-you okay?” The words dried up your tongue. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine, are you?” His energy had been drained of him, and his knuckles were also cracked, likely from having to throw punches that you haven’t even seen him take. 

Gunshots echoed further down the street followed by the screeching of wheels and more panicked yells. The chirps of cop cars pulled up to the scene and their husky demands rounded up the escapees in rapid-fire Arabic. 

Jeongin sprinted back with his white hair bouncing to a taxi nearest an intersection. He threw the door open apologizing profusely the best he could before pulling the driver out of the driver’s seat and to the cement. He cursed out loudly in response to which Jeongin tossed out some bills haphazardly to his chest. 

“Get in, GET IN!” He called to your group while tapping on the metal side of the vehicle. 

Both you and the pricne guided the injured royal in to the backseat between you. 

“Minho--Minho, hold on--” Your nervous hands held his pale face in your palms. 

The tear of your dress filled the small compartment, prompting the prince to snatch his hand into the other man’s firmly. 

“Minho--you fucking dumb asshole--you had to go and he the hero didn’t you?” Chan smiled hopefully. 

“Ar-are you alright?” He coughed, “Your Highness?” 

“Shut up.” Chan ruffled his hair with another adoring smile. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.” 

Although it was silk, you used every inch of your dress tear to tie around the baron’s shoulder tightly in an attempt to add pressure to the open wound. 

“Bee--” Minho started with a lazy glare. 

“--Keep talking Minho, look at me. You’re gonna feel sleepy, stay awake. You did great, thank you so much for doing that to me. Thank you.” You grabbed his opposite hand firmly. “I can’t thank you enough.” 

Lee Minho laughed. “Don’t mention it. And--if you wanted me to keep talking...I wanted to tell you that you’re really stunning Bee. How you handled all th-that. I was really impressed.” 

“Hm, I was impressed too.” In his own way, like this, bloodied and a bit delirious, Lee Minho really was as handsome as he let on. 

The taxi car whipped around another corner with wind whipping in the windows and each of your masses jostled in the car as if bumped over the curb. The hotel wasn’t that far from The Tea Party, and you knew that any moment you would reach it, but each second stretched longer and longer. 

“Fox?! We’re not there?” 

“Fuck--Bee, the whole city is crawling with cops, everywhere I turn, they’re on the hunt, The Spades are everywhere I can’t make it back--no doubt they’re already there...” 

In the front seat, Seungmin clung to Two as if his life depended on it as his whole body shook and Two tore his own jacket sleeve to close off the young man’s wound on his leg. 

“Wha-what are we going to do?? S-shit!! Ouch!!!” The young student gritted his teeth in his pain while his leg shook terribly. He sobbed, “It hurts, really, really bad!!” 

“I planned for this.” Jeongin’s eyes flicked in the review mirror to you in the back. “I asked Carroll to set up for us a secondary place if something went down and we couldn’t make it to the hotel. I figured...if anything happened or if they found us--” 

“--Get us there, fucking drive Fox, Minho needs first aid, right fucking now, he’s bleeding too fucking much.” 

“I know, I know!!” 

“How far is it?!” 

“Not far, I promise, twenty minutes--tops.” 

“Make it ten!!!” 

Jeongin floored it, running lights and becoming a stream under the skyscrapers of Cairo. From the small skylight of the taxi, thin clouds streaked in the evening sky and mixed with the glow of the city. Far, far, above your head, you prayed for the first time in years that you could make it in time. 

Seungmin sobbed with puffy eyes from the front seat and writhed, “Hurry! Hurry!” He begged. 

Minho’s head lulled in the backseat as he bled though the white silk binding him. His head bounced back and forth from you to the prince with glossy marbles for eyes that blinked slowly. The prince rested his hand on the baron’s thigh and rubbed calming little circles into it. 

“Minho, you did so well. Look at me.” Chan coaxed, causing the other to smile adorably grim. 

Minho twitched before rolling his head over to the prince. “Your Highness, i-if I may be so bold...I-I’ve got...I’m crush on you.” He finished his sentence with a wrinkled smile. 

You scoffed out with a laugh while making knowing eye contact with the prince who laughed out lightly too. 

“He sounds like someone I know.” You winked at the royal. 

The taxi made one final turn to an alley filled with potholes that jostled each wheel of the car. 

“This is it! Right here!” The young agent whipped into a one car garage hidden into the alley. The darkness of the garage filled the car, and snuffed out all of the light from the street, and even muffled the faint sirens of police as they whizzed past. The night was still full of gunshots, but at least now they sounded far enough away to be safe. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The safe house was a modest two floored apartment outfitted with the normal security system of The Agency: window locks and cameras in every corner of every room. As expected, each of the rooms was covered in a fine layer of dust, and the old smell hung with flecks of the material stuck on lampshades and wafting in the light. 

Work had been delegated between you and your partners, with the two other men helping treat Seungmin in the second bedroom out of three while you and the prince aided Minho.  

The windows were left open to let in some fresh air, also letting in the faint sounds of the city which still surged with life even late into the night. Still, the smell of the desert came floating into the room with a welcome sense of tranquility. 

The royal lay on the bed with cracked pale lips while you set to work dabbing at his wound gently with gauze, cleaning the area around the bullet wound. Fearful to cause more bleeding, the bullet would stay where it was for a few moments more for another layer of wrapping. The prince remained quiet, passing you materials as needed with hands stained pink from the other man’s blood. 

“How are you feeling?” Chan quietly asked. 

“Hurts like a bitch,” Minho smiled, “You ever been shot before?” 

The prince shook his head. 

“Well, I hope that you never are. Feels like your whole body gets stirred up from the impact and then there’s the sting.” 

Carefully you pulled back the remains of the baron’s shirt while lifting him slightly off the bed. As you swept the fabric from behind him, you noticed the thin red line tracing around his shoulder bade which you figured to be blood at first. 

“What...what’s this?” 

“Oh,” Minho shied, “It’s a tattoo.” 

“You’ve got a tattoo? For a royal?” Chan slicked back Minho’s sweaty locks. “You really are full of surprises.” 

Gently you laid the baron back down to lay with his new wrappings. “What is it?”

He paused, wetting his lips quickly before he spoke. “It’s a red rose. It’s a bit large--I know--not typical for royals. Don’t worry, you’re the only royal that knows that I have it.” 

“Why a red rose?”

 Below you, Minho looked relaxed and calm, beautiful even like this bare-chested under the single lamp-light of the bedroom. 

“Well...you know the significance of symbols and insignias. We’ve all got our own.” He grinned out while playing with the prince’s free hand. 

“I’ve got my white rose, Bee’s got her clock: seems like we’ve all got our own thing.” Chan agreed, watching the way that his fingers interlocked with the other man’s. 

In the opposite bedroom, Seungmin cried out sharply to the tune of Jeongin chuckling out, “I’ve got you, you fucker!” The clink of metal fell into the little bowl they used: the bullet was out of the poor boy. 

You sighed knowing that the damage caused to your group could’ve been much worse, yet you had made a skillful escape. Still, the thought of the bodies littering the floor...the silence that rang in your ears from the pace of it all and how the energy of survival started to wear off...it was truly gruesome. 

“Minho--really, I appreciate you taking a hit for me like that. No one has ever done something like that for me...and you barely know me...” 

The baron smiled, taking your hand in his too. “Like I said, it’s fine. Had I not, you wouldn’t have been able to help us out of there...even if you were dragging my ass for the tail end of it.” 

The breeze flew in with the dusty curtains; just cold enough to make you shiver in your thin dress. 

The prince looked to the both of you, “What happens now?” 

Chan himself was a proper mess: he no longer looked like the perfect vision of regality from the earlier evening. He looked like a man, a regular man, scared, unsure, and confused. His knuckles were cracked...and you had promised that you had never wanted to see him harmed again. 

The prince’s eyes softened, softer than they had been, soft like they had been the evening before when you had broken. 

“We survive. The best we can. We recuperate for a couple days, and ask Carroll what the next steps are. I’d guess it would be Greece then.” 

Minho leaned up with a little grunt to face you. “I’m coming with. I can help. I can be valuable if you need another set of hands on a gun.” 

“I think you mean hand. Your arm is gonna be out of commission for a little while.” 

He smirked, “Still...” 

The sweeping red outline of rose peeked to his shoulder, and you wondered how far it really spread. 

“Bee, I don’t think that I’ve thanked you.” Chan let the words fill earnestly, throwing that same damned smile at you. 

“Chan...you don’t have to thank me. You’re my prince.” 

The royal nodded with a contented little grin that tugged a dimple on the side of his face. You found both men looking at you as such, as if they were waiting, or anticipating the unsaid as you were. 

Somehow, the room turned silent once more: a void quiet enough to hear your heart beating in your ears. 

You bridged the gap, pulling Chan close to you as you pressed your lips against his, using your stained hand to pull his lapel into your body while he melted perfectly into you as he had done before. His mouth tasted slightly like the salt of blood, but that was of no matter to how sweet he was when he gently let himself unfold for you, gasping lightly against you. Chan’s hand reached to your arm to caress the goosebumped skin down, giving you another reason to shiver. You found your own hand tie into his light brown locks and pull deeply at the roots with depths of curiosity and want. Your tongue gently explored his lower lip before teasing right into his mouth which was even warmer than you had imagined it being. 

Your other hand found the torso of Minho: bare and quivering under the touch of your fingertips which traced each muscle there. He let out a drawn out sigh, then drew his own hand down the curve of your body to your hip, finally working it back up over your belly to your breasts thinly protected by the dress. He sat up higher and brought his lips to the fabric, kissing right into your belly with the warmth of his mouth. He paused, giving you moments to crave that same feeling on your lips and prompting you to bow down and indulge yourself in the taste of his mouth too. 

Chan’s hungry hands came tip-toeing over your back as he watched, and slipped one finger under your thin dress strap to pull it down and press kisses to your shoulder. With his other hand, he let it fall down Minho’s back: over the red rose, right to his thigh which he squeezed at firmly: right between the heat of his legs. 

Minho was different from Chan: rougher with his advances, but still addictive in how he would test the corners of your mouth with each kiss more courageous than the last. He ruffled up your torn dress, then let the silk fill up his hands before pulling it in ways to meet your skin with his. Slowly, Chan did the same, edging a hand up to your ass from the frayed bottom of the once-gorgeous dress. 

The bed was just big enough for two, but with this new interlocking of limbs as close as possible, you melded into one. Both you and Chan crept over the man between you, painting the blank canvas of his chest with seething hot lips and biting at the flesh of his skin lightly. Minho’s back arched from the beautiful sensation, causing him to giggle in his euphoria. 

In the middle, you found Chan once more, and held him close, as close as you had wanted for longer than you had admitted. 

“Oh Bee...” He moans into your mouth while releasing all of his glee onto your tongue. 

“Chan, I’m not scared anymore. I don’t even care.” 

The prince shuddered at the thought, and held you back just as tight finding the corners of your dress to pull over your head. 

“Oh my god,” Minho adores you, then reaches out to pull you to his chest. 

This mysterious man, melts for you too, whimpering perfectly between your lips.  Your legs find their way around his thigh to grind at lightly. There's an innocence to his eyes, much like that of the prince: its a kind of blind adoration that you know all too well. His dedication to Chan, and his gesture to you: the thick bandages around his arm: you find your apprehension slipping to nothing. 

Your fingers loop around the white lace of your panties as you kneel above both men, and you swipe your thumb over both of their glistening and trembling lips. 

“Well boys, how about I’ll make both of you mine tonight?” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[spooder-moon]

Becoming - Part Four Jason Todd x Bat!Reader

Summary: You had been best friends with Jason Todd for as long as you could remember, things changed when he became Robin for sure, but they changed even more when he became the Red Hood.

A/N: Hey Guys! Sorry to anyone whose been waiting for this part, I went overseas for a few weeks and didn't take my laptop with me so I wasn’t able to write anything! Also sorry that this chapter is so fkn long, I got carried away. Also first time writing smut so please give feedback. Enjoy!! xxx

Word Count: 4.5k (I'm sorry)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (as promised)

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Five Part Six

*3 years later*

Gotham was a mess, when was it not. Crime bosses were thriving more than ever, the Black Mask in control of it all. And then there was this Red Hood guy who had decided to show up and take matters into his own hands. 

Batman and Nightwing had just come back from a mission at the docks, you had been told to stay back at the batcave, Batman wanted to go solo on this one but needed you for intel. However, Dick had decided to come back to Gotham for a month, and he barely follows Bruce’s orders anymore, let alone yours. 

“That Red Hood is a pain in my ass, literally. And seriously, what the fuck does one do with a weapon like that?” Dick said, announcing his arrival. He was talking about an Android that had the ability to absorb other heroes super powers, and it would have kicked his butt if batman hadn’t blown it’s head off.

“I mean, I’m guessing use it to try and take down Batman,” you replied, turning around in your chair to face him.

“Ok smart-ass, don’t get smug with me. I would’ve loved to see you try take it down.”

“Bet I could have done a better job than you.” You grinned, the playful banter between you two always lightening your mood. 

Dick came up and gave you a big bear hug, “It’s good to see you Y/N.” You stood up to hug him back. 

“Yeah yeah, you too.” You hadn’t seen him in about 3 months, you missed him you had to admit - but you’d never tell him that.

“Hey Alfred!” You heard Dick say to the man behind you as you pulled away from the hug.

“Good to see you Master Richard.”

“Great, now that everyone has said hello, Y/N tell me what you know about the Red Hood.” Bruce said gruffly.

Sitting back down in your seat you got up some footage of what had just happened at the docks. 

“There’s no trace of him anywhere, every diagnostic I’ve run has come up blank. The interesting part though is that when he took out his men to stop them from talking he could have easily shot you both right there. Instead he let the android have it’s fun. He’s clearly skilled and well trained, those sniper shots were from about 3 blocks away, so it doesn’t make sense as to why he wouldn’t just kill you. Maybe he’s an old enemy from the past? Someone you put in Arkham that wants revenge? I’m not sure but he’s clearly playing a game here.” You told them everything you knew about him which, if you’re being honest, wasn’t much at all. “From what I can tell from his antics with Gotham’s underground, he’s wanting to take out the black mask. Honestly it’s hard to tell who’s side he’s on. He’s stopped drug trading for minors but takes 40% of all other proceeds.”

Bruce grunted, “If he kills he’s not on our side. We’re done for the night, tomorrow you can keep looking for clues as to who he is and what he wants.”

You nodded, shutting down the bat cave computer. 

…

The next night you were listening for the bug that Bruce had planted in the Black Masks office.

“Batman, there’s a trade tonight that the black mask is operating. I don’t doubt that the Red Hood will be there to take it down. If you want to catch him this is your chance.” You said over the intercom that Bruce and Dick were on the other side of. 

“We’re on our way now, I need you to come out and tale us from a distance in case we lose him. Make sure he doesn’t know you’re there until you can catch him.”

Following Bruce’s orders you quickly got into your costume, grabbing your throwing knives - which you preferred to batarangs - and any other weapons you think you’ll need. You say a quick goodbye to Alfred as he takes over your place at the computer, before hoping on your bike and speeding out of the cave. 

You followed Batman and Nightwing from the ground as they chased the Red Hood over rooftops, all the while keeping your distance, sticking to alleyways and always being at least 3 moves behind. It wasn’t until you saw the train station explode that you jumped into action. 

You heard Bruce cough through the intercom, “Redwing, we’ve lost him and Nightwing is injured. I need you to-“

“I’m already on it, he’s in my sights.” You interrupted Bruce as you started the chase. You knew better than to be obvious when trying to chase him. Contrary to Bruce’s tactics you preferred to be sneaky and catch when they least expected it. 

Tracking his path you took the opposite one, as he turned down a thin alleyway you were there to cut him off before he could make it all the way through. Quickly, you threw a knife at his front tire, countering it and causing Red Hood to fly over the front of his bike with an “Oh shit” which you managed to catch.

Hoping off your own bike you were quick to knock him down with a hard hit to his chest before he could start running again. As he landed on his back winded you caught Batman’s attention through the intercom. “Batman, I’ve got hi- ah.”

Red Hood had kicked your legs out from underneath you and started to scale up the fire escapes on the side of the apartment building you were next too. “Nevermind,” you groaned to Bruce as you got up ready for a chase. Grabbing your grappling hook you followed him up the side of the building, arriving at the top at the same time he did. It surprised you when he didn’t run like you were expecting. Instead he stood facing you, his body ready to fight but not as tense as it had been while he had been fighting Batman and Nightwing earlier. You took the first swing, you knew hitting his helmet would probably hurt your hand more than it did his head so, you aimed at his side. You managed to hit him but he moved away before the force could do any damage. Red Hood continued to block all your attacks but seemed to never hit first. It confused you, frustrated you, made you more aggressive even. This wasn’t anything new, you often found that some crooks would go easier on you because you were a woman, thinking they didn’t need as much force to take you down. You made a point to always prove them wrong, you were just as dangerous as Nightwing, if not more when it came to your apparent anger issues. The men who went easy on you always lived to regret it. 

“Redwing, what’s going on?” You heard Bruce through the intercom. “Kind of in the middle of something here Bats.” You grunted as you blocked a punch coming your way. Finally, you thought, he decided to play fair. Something about the way he fought was familiar to you, as if you’d seen him in action before. And it was clear that he had been trained by someone of immense skill. 

You didn’t see the fist coming from your right until it was too late and it smacked your jaw. Ouch, he’s gonna regret that. Recovering quickly you jumped and landed a round-house kick on his chest, it was enough force for him to stumble closer to the wall behind him. Without even thinking you grabbed one of your knives and launched it at him. It lodged itself through his shoulder and into the wall behind him, pinning him to it.  

You heard him grunt in pain. “Oh you play dirty, I bet old Bats doesn’t like that.” You could hear the smugness in his voice, you frowned as you walked closer to him. 

“Game over Red Hood, how does jail sound to you? Cosy?” You were inches apart now, oh how badly you wanted you take off that helmet and see who was underneath. But you let your guard down, Red Hood ripped the blade our of his shoulder and pushed you against the wall instead, you stopped moving when you felt your own knife pressing into your neck. The Red Hood starting to say some snarky reply but paused when you turned to look at him properly. 

“Y/N?” He questioned in disbelief. You’re heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t because he knew your name, although that was alarming, but no, it was the way he said it. That voice, it was so eerily familiar, it was a voice that you knew you had heard before, but this time it was deeper. 

“How do you know my name?” You questioned in a whisper.

He ignored your question, “Seriously?! You’re working for the fucking Bat now? Of all the people, he recruited you?” He seemed shocked and angry through you weren’t sure at who. 

You repeated your question, this time louder and harsher, “How do you know my name?”

He laughed, “Oh Y/N, I know more than just your name. I know you better than you know yourself, or at least, I used you.”

“WHO ARE YOU?” You were angry now, and curious. Who the fuck was this guy?

“Nuh-uh-uh, not yet. This is way too much fun.” The amusement in his voice was irritating. You struggled in his hold trying to get free but stopped when you felt the knife pressing harder into your skin. “I’m going to let you go now and then I’m going to disappear and you’re not going to follow me, OK?” You grunted in agreement. 

“Great, before I go, I need you to do one last thing for me.”

The way he said that made you tense up, it was too familiar, you felt bile rising in your throat at the thought of what he was going to say next. You stared at him, eyes blazing and begging him not to do it.

“Kiss me.” 

Jason. 

…

You blacked out after that. You weren’t sure if he’d hit you on the head or if it was just from shock, but you woke up in your bed at the manor with Dick staring over you. Before you could finish sitting up you felt the bile rising at the back of your throat again and you sprinted to the bathroom. You felt Dick come in and hold your hair back and you started to cry thinking of tonights events. It couldn’t possibly be true, Jason is gone, dead is dead. 

“Y/N, what happened out there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Him and Bruce had obviously heard it through the intercom and come to find you after you stopped responding. 

“He knew my name Dick, how did he know my name?” You muttered out, cleaning yourself up at the sink. He said he used to know me, recognised me even with my mask on, and what he said to me. Only one person has ever said that to me, and that person is dead.” He knew you were talking about Jason, he could see it in your eyes. You got the same look every time you spoke about him, it was as if the life in you momentarily drained from your body, and suddenly you were back to that girl who almost killed herself 3 and a half years ago. 

You shook the thought from your mind. “It’s not him, it can’t be him. Jason is gone, dead is dead.” You found yourself saying this over and over, as if trying to make yourself believe it was true.

“It wasn’t him Y/N, someone was just messing with you, it couldn’t have been him.” Dick spent the night reassuring you until you fell asleep from exhaustion. 

…

The next night Dick went back to Blüdhaven to recover from his injuries. You had ventured down to the batcave just in time to catch Batman sneaking out. “Where are you going? Should I put my suit on?” You questioned Bruce, it wasn’t an unusual thing for him to leave on a mission without telling anyone, he still has ideals about working alone. 

“Nowhere, no, just stay here.” His voice was stern. 

You looked at the computer, seeing that whatever he had planned for tonight was still up there. He had received a calling from the Red Hood. “You’re going to see him? Why can’t I come?”

“I know what happened last night, and I have my suspicions too but you’re too close to this. You’re letting you’re feelings cloud you’re judgement.”

You looked at Bruce in disbelief, “I’m letting my feelings cloud my judgement?! You’re the one about to go help him fight off the Black Mask’s men!” You were outraged by how hypocritical he was being.

“This isn’t up for discussion, stay here or else.” With that he hopped into his Batmobile and sped off, leaving you in the dust. He should know that you weren’t going to listen to him, not when it came to this. With a huff you went to get changed into your costume, waiting 10 minutes before following him with the GPS tracker you had on him. 

As you arrived at the scene of the fight Batman and Red Hood were already well engaged in battle. You watched from the rooftops as Batman jumped through a car thrown at him. Ok, that was pretty cool. You couldn’t help but admire the way Batman fought, you always had. But watching the Red Hood work was enchanting almost, he was fluid in his motions and not as aggressive as Batman, it almost calmed you in a sense. 

You were distracted from your thoughts when the Red Hood blew up one guys head, you had to move out of the way as to not get sprayed with blood. You listened to them talk, how Batman tried to reason with the Red Hood but he wasn’t having any of it, instead launching a smoke bomb and disappearing into the night. You were quick to see where he went and even quicker to follow his movements. You almost didn’t see Batman pick up the blade that had sliced the Red Hood’s arm. 

You followed Red Hood through the streets of Gotham, making sure to be quiet and kept unseen, from what you could tell he hadn’t noticed you following him yet. He parked his bike in an alleyway behind your old apartment building. What was he doing here? You thought as you observed from across the road. You lost him when he went inside the complex. 

It was now or never, you were going to confront him. You took a chance by climbing up the fire escape to your old apartment. If he was who you thought he was, he’d be there. You were quiet to sneak through the window of your old living room, you froze as you saw him standing with his back to you at the other end of the room. You saw him lift his head up and his shoulders square, he knew you were there. 

“You’re not as sneaky as you think.” The Red Hood said without turning around, his voice still muffled by the helmet he wore. 

“Why let me follow you here then?” You asked quietly.

“You could say I’m particularly fond of my memories here, there’s a specific one that draws me here.” He was talking about your first kiss with Jason. 

“Who are you?” You questioned.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” he was right, you just didn’t want to admit it. 

“Take off your helmet.” Your voice was firm, it wasn’t a request, it was a demand.

He chuckled but obliged your order. His hands rose to the back of his head as he released the mechanism keeping the helmet together. Taking off the helmet to reveal the jet black hair you knew all too well, he placed it on the kitchen bench in front of him. 

“Turn around.”

He did, slowly. Even though he still wore a domino mask you recognised him instantly. He was just as beautiful as you had remembered him, only now more rugged, older, his jawline sharper, he was absolutely stunning. 

“Your turn,” he gestured to your domino mask which you pulled off gently after a moment of hesitation. You heard his breath hitch, “You’re even more beautiful than I remember Y/N.”

You walked up to him slowly until you were chest to chest. Gently, you reached your hands up to take off his own mask which he let you. When you finally saw his whole face and saw his stunning blue eyes up close you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your cheek. 

“Jason.” You breathed. “How is this even possible? How are you al-.”

You were cut off by his lips pressing harshly onto yours, you froze for a second, shocked by the abruptness of it, but the warmth that spread through you made you melt into him. As soon as he felt you kiss back Jason’s hands where clasped tightly onto your hips, drawing you closer every second. Your arms circled around his neck, one hand playing with the thick black locks you loved so much, and the other leaving light scratches on his upper back. 

The kiss became harsh, desperate, the need you two had for each other so undeniably strong. Your head was fuzzy as millions of questions ran through it. Has he been alive all this time? If so, why has he only just surfaced? Your thoughts were interrupted when Jason drew your hips together, and lightly grinded against you, testing new waters. You gasped at the action and Jason took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours in a battle for dominance which he eventually won. 

You both pulled away slowly, gasping for air and cheeks flushed in a warm glow. As you looked Jason in the eyes you saw a vulnerability you’d never seen before. 

“Please, I need you. Let me have you.” His voice was just above a whisper. So many conflicting thoughts ran through your mind in that moment. You knew it was wrong, you didn’t even know if he was the same person, you didn’t know what he had done these past years. But you thought about all the pain it had caused you when he died and you realised you would do anything for just one night with him. You would deal with the consequences tomorrow. 

Without saying anything in response you crashed your lips back to his, this time more feverish and needy than before. When he realised you were his for the taking Jason lifted your legs around his waist and backed you into a nearby wall, you crashed against it hard but you barely registered the pain - too focused on Jason. Your chests were flush against one another as your hips started to grind in sync. Jason let out a low groan which instantly shot right to your core. He pulled away from your lips and looked you in the eyes, asking one last time for permission. His eyes were clouded with lust and something else, you were sure yours looked the same when you nodded in consent. His lips dove to your jawline kissing and sucking harshly down your neck until your suit got in the way. Jasons hand snuck up to your neck line and gently began to pull down the zipper of your suit, until it stopped at your utility belt. With both hands he pushed the suit over your shoulders and down your arms leaving you in your bra with the bottom half of the suit still on. You were quick to respond by pushing his leather jacket off of his shoulders and letting it drop to the ground behind him. He began taking off his armoured top as you undid your utility belt and threw it across the room blindly. As his top came off the first thing you noticed was the scars that littered his torso, your eyes narrowed in on the fresh was you had given him just days prior. You leaned forward to kiss it gently, receiving a sharp intake of breath from him. 

“Sorry about that,” and you were, although you couldn’t help the slight smirk that appeared when you thought about it. 

He grunted, “You could have hit my heart you know.” 

Your lips started trailing up his neck and his breathing became shallower. “I have great aim.” 

You connected your lips again, you felt Jason move you away from the wall and start walking towards the bedroom. He gently placed you down on your old bed. Hovering over you he started to leave open mouth kisses down your body until he reached the end of your zipper, looking up at you he started to pull the rest of your costume from your body, with your help you were left in your bra and panties lying before him. Jason took a moment to admire your womanly body and how perfect you were to him. He lay between your legs as he began kissing up your thighs to where you needed him most. As he got closer, your breathing became more ragged with every kiss until a gentle kiss over your clothed core elicited a low moan from you. Without teasing any further Jason ripped the panties from your body and dove his tongue into your wet core, earning a loud gasp of pleasure in return. As Jason lapped at your folds you arched your back to rid yourself of your bra. One hand found itself locked in Jason’s hair, and the other massaging your breast and playing with your nipple. You couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips when Jason suddenly slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping roughly and sucking on your clit. As you tugged his hair harshly he moaned, the vibrations adding to the tight coil quickly building in you. 

“Fuck, Jay, I’m gonna-.” Just as you were about to hit your high Jason pulled away from you entirely. You looked up with hooded lids to see him hastily ridding himself of his pants and his boxers, his impressive length slapped against his stomach and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him. Jason moved to hover over you and you felt him brush against you just slightly, making you sigh. 

Jason smashed his lips back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as you reached your arm down to grab his length, you pumped him a few times earning a loud groan from the back of his throat. Not being able to wait any longer you guided him to your entrance and he slowly pushed in, stretching you out as you winced slightly before sighing in pleasure. Jason moaned against you as he pushed all the way in before halting. He pulled away from your lips to look at you. 

“Are you ok?” He mumbled, voice laced with ecstasy. 

“I’m perfect,” you moaned out. That was all he needed to start moving. 

As he slowly started to move in and out of you his head fell to the crook of your neck where his lips sucked at your skin. Your face contorted into one of pleasure, a light frown on your forehead and lips parted slightly, occasionally letting small whimpers and moans slip past them. 

“Faster Jay, please, faster.” Your words came out breathless, you didn’t even know if he’d be able to hear them but when he started to pick up the pace you knew he had. 

Your body started to rock back and forth, your hips moving to meet his in perfect sync. Everything felt perfect, like this is how it was meant to be, like you two were made for each other. 

Without pulling away from each other you rolled until you were on top. Your hands planted firmly on his chest and his gripping your waist, guiding your hips up and down onto him. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes were closed tight and lips were parted to allow to shallow irregular breathing. The sight of him below you was so breathtakingly sexy it almost had you reaching your high right there. You continued to pick up the pace, you both of you were quickly starting to become undone. Jason quickly rolled the two of you over again, taking control once more to start slamming into you. You felt the heat building in your abdomen, it was like nothing you had experienced before, never this intense. 

Your walls started to clench around him and your nails left deep scratches in his shoulders, he let out a loud groan at the new feeling. “Jay I’m close. Fuck, don’t stop,” you managed to whimper out in your dazed state.

“Fuck Baby, I know, me too.” Hearing him call you baby sent you over the edge a few hard and long thrusts later, screaming his name you reached your high and your walls clenched tight around him. Jason came soon after, grunting your name and biting into your shoulder as he spilled inside of you. 

He continued to thrust sloppily, bringing you both down from your highs. You winced slightly as he pulled out of your overly sensitive warmth before he collapsed on top of you, your bodies slick with sweat and smelling of sex. You ran your hands through his hair as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, lightly kissing and nipping at the skin there. 

As you lay there in silence, chests heaving together the questions rushed back. Your mind was going crazy thinking about what had just happened but more importantly what would happen next. Would you wake up in the morning to find him gone, or would you leave first? Does this mean you two can finally be together after all these years? Was Jason even the same person? Did this actually mean anything? Would things change completely now or just stay the same? 

As if sensing that your thoughts were racing Jason lifted his head to hover above yours. His eyes searched every detail of your face as if finally seeing you after all this time, and yours did the same. You moved your hands to cradle his face, your right thumb stroking his cheek. Jason closed his eyes at the soft caress before leaning down to connect his lips to yours once more. This kiss was so much different from the rest, it wasn’t rushed or desperate, it wasn’t filled with the need to be as physically close as possible. No. This kiss was soft and slow and filled with hope. A hope you needed so badly in that moment.

Tag list:

@allithewriter @batboys-and-other-messes @probsjosh @sleep-depiravation  @yoursturelys

[rather-impertinent]

Girl Next Door Chpt. 4

A/N: Hello friends! It’s been a fkn hot minute since I last wrote any fic, especially this one! I am now free from the clutches of university coursework and exams, and thought to celebrate by finally releasing this chapter! It’s a long one, hopefully it’s worth the wait! Thanks for all your patience, let me know what you all think, much love xo

“No. Rosina is a lovely girl, but I think she’d be lovely for someone else,” he said thoughtfully, a gentle smile on his face. Caroline’s intoxicated state meant that she could not smother a grin at this news. As Dwight fell asleep that night, he convinced himself that he had imagined her reaction. The door to his flat finally opened, he entered, immediately turned on the light and unbuttoned his coat. He was quickly followed by Caroline, whose white heel caught on the door frame. She swore and stumbled clumsily, before falling right into Dwight’s arms.

An utterly inebriated yet incredibly beautiful, young woman had just fallen into his arms, inside of his own flat, and Dwight didn’t know whether to thank the Lord or curse Him. She made no attempt to move and dangled limply.

“Caroline? You okay?”

She mumbled incoherently, and Dwight realised that she was probably blacking out. At first, he encouraged her to walk, but she complained in unintelligible groans about having sore feet and “fuzzy legs” so Dwight resorted to carrying her. She was ridiculously light, he discovered, barely weighing more than Julia after a Sunday roast.

He kicked open his bedroom door with the ball of his foot and entered sideways, holding Caroline securely, her mouth slack in sleep despite the short walk to the bedroom. Once inside the room, he pressed the light switch on with his nose and then gently placed Caroline onto the bed, careful not to wake her. He carefully removed her heeled shoes and put them on the floor beside the bed. With a slight smile and shake of the head at the now softly snoring girl on his bed, he covered her body with the navy duvet and left to fetch her a pint of water and some much-needed aspirin for the morning. He placed the tablets and water on the somewhat untidy table beside his bed before stealing one of his pillows and a pair of pyjama trousers to go sleep on the couch.

Caroline supposed that the light that shone on her face to rouse her from her dreams was that which people speak of when they die, such was the relentless throbbing in her head. She reached for the pint glass of water on the bedside table and popped two pills out the packet that had been placed beside it, hoping to relieve her horrific headache and the painful dryness of her throat. She shielded her mascara clogged eyes from the light flooding through a gap in the curtains, before it dawned on her that those were not her curtains, and this was not her flat. She panicked slightly before her nostrils caught a whiff of a familiar scent. She brought the dark duvet cover up to her nose and sniffed. Dwight. She was in Dwight’s flat. As she considered the implications of this, patchy memories from the previous night flooded back to her, and she groaned, knowing she likely made a complete twat of herself.

Before she had time to contemplate this further, she heard a soft tap at the door. She cleared her throat: “Yeah?”

“Morning. Are you awake?” Dwight’s voice sounded just as rough as her own.

Caroline thought the answer was obvious, but replied anyway, “yeah.”

“Mind if I come in?”

She gestured helplessly to herself, how could someone possibly be so polite? “It’s your room!”

Dwight came in then, smiling but looking a little worse for wear, like he’d just finished a gruelling night shift. He was huddling two steaming cups of tea as he sat down on the bed, quickly handing one to Caroline. “How are you feeling?” he asked, a little smile on his face as he examined her tired eyes. “I didn’t know how you liked your tea, so I just guessed.”

Caroline accepted the mug with an amused expression and brought it to her lips, hoping it would return her voice. “Well,” she began, still croaking slightly, “when I woke up I genuinely thought I had died and ended up in Hell.” She took another glug of her tea, which was made perfectly with two sugars and a small splash of milk.

They both winced as Dwight’s laugh pierced their sharp headaches. “Ah, your first vodka hangover. Brutal. Now, no doubt, you hate me!”

She chuckled and met his tired gaze. “Now, no doubt, I hate you.” It was curious, thought Dwight, that a declaration of hate had managed to suck all of the air from the room. They hid their smiles behind their respective cups before Caroline examined her mug in dismay. “This is the most boring mug I’ve ever seen; it’s literally just white. Don’t you have any fun ones?”

Dwight’s brows furrowed in confusion as he took in the genuine dissatisfaction on her face. “What? Why would I need to have a ‘fun mug’? You just drink coffee out of it! Besides, I rarely get a chance to drink coffee out of an actual mug for a start; it’s usually shitty paper cups from the hospital vending machine!”

She scoffed and pointed at the offending mug. “Oh, live a little, Dwight! It’s the simple things that make life count!”

He laughed in disbelief, “Says you – who probably grew up in some fancy mansion in the countryside somewhere and had more money than God!” Her mouth fell open, and Dwight’s eyes widened in panic. Shit. He’s offended her and ruined everything, and now she’ll never speak to him again and – his thoughts were halted by a pillow whacking him in the face, causing some of his tea to spill on his tartan pyjama trousers.

“Fuck off, Dwight!” Caroline laughed. “I don’t live there now, and I don’t really have any money at the moment,” Her chin was held aloft in defiance, “I was just trying to give you some friendly advice about your shit cups!” He returned her smirk at this. “I’d give you some of mine, but they’re all of pugs… Oh, shit! My keys!” She whined, covering her face with her hand. “Ugh, I’ll have to go to the pub and get them, wearing the same clothes as last night and smelling like a fucking distillery, oh my G–“

A loud jingle in front of her face caused the end of her sentence to catch in her throat. “You have my keys?!” she exclaimed, an impressed smirk appearing on her face.

Dwight nodded and returned her smile, continuing to jingle the cluster of metal and pug keyrings. “Yep. I walked down to the pub earlier to get them, I know the owner really well. Besides, one of the disadvantages of being a doctor is that you don’t ever really manage to get much sleep, no matter how hungover and tired you are!” He chuckled, dropping the keys into her open hand.

“Thank you,” Caroline said sincerely, clasping her long fingers around the bundle of keys, meeting his gaze. She regarded him with amusement and raised an eyebrow in challenge at him, “I wonder how I could repay your noble deed, Dr Enys?”

“Maybe you could give me your phone number?” Oh, Christ. He did not just say that. Those words did not just come out of his mouth. He must still be dreaming; this is a nightmare. Or it’s true; alcohol kills the brain. All his brain cells must be dead for him to have blurted that out. What a twat. “Errr, I mean in case you ever lose your–“

She held up her hand, laughing at his lack of composure and the blush that coloured his cheeks. “Sure, why not?” she shrugged nonchalantly, while almost snatching his mobile out of his hand to enter her number. She entered it quickly and handed his phone back to him. “Test it to make sure I entered it right.” He nodded, thinking it was a smart idea – when really, she just wanted to have his number, too. Her phone lit up, displaying an unknown caller. “Great, it worked. I’ll just save your number, too.” She displayed her new contact ‘Dr Enys’ in confirmation.

He grinned and shook his head. He opened his mouth to ask her something when his phone rang so loudly it caused them both to jump. He noted the caller and excused himself without making any effort to vacate the room or even move off the bed.

“Morning,” he chirped.

“Afternoon, more like,” laughed Demelza. She cleared her throat overdramatically and waited. “So? Spill it.”

Dwight glanced involuntarily at Caroline, who pretended to text someone while he spoke on the phone. “What are you talking about?”

Demelza huffed impatiently. “What happened after the pub last night?” she drawled suggestively.

Again, he glanced at Caroline, hoping she couldn’t hear this. “Nothing.”

“Dwight! You better be kidding!” Demelza accused with a whine, and Dwight could hear Ross groan beside her on the couch.

“Give me the phone, love,” Dwight heard Ross instruct her. There was a moment’s pause. “Dwight, it’s Ross,” he croaked, his throat still burning from the near entire bottle of whisky he drank the previous night. “Listen, mate, do you actually mean to tell me you left the pub with not one but two beautiful women–“ Demelza slapped his bicep “–on your arm, and you didn’t even shag one of them?!”

“Yep,” he confirmed sardonically, slightly annoyed at their attempted interference in his sex life.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” Ross groaned, squishing his eyes together, “you were right, Dem: he likes her. He likes Caroline. That’s why he couldn’t shag Rosina. Why are you always right about these things?” Demelza’s excited shriek pierced Dwight’s ears, and she snatched the phone from her husband.

“I fucking knew it!” she gloated. “When did this start?”

Dwight looked at Caroline, who was staring absently at her phone, likely scrolling through social media, or so he hoped. “I really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” he said through gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence. “Why are you acting so weird? You normally tell me everything. Wait. Is– is she there right now? Cough once for yes and twice for no.” He coughed once. “Ooh, alright, we’ll continue this conversation another time,” she taunted, a smile colouring her tone, a tone that suggested that she would not forget to bring this up again. “Oh, by the way, tell Caroline I got her a job at the café.”

Dwight’s annoyance melted, and he smiled. “You did?! When?”

Ross linked his fingers through Demelza’s, and she giggled. “Yesterday, I texted John about 30 seconds after she asked for a glass of Moet. I like a girl with taste. Plus, I like her. She’s really funny, and lovely.”

“She is, isn’t she?” he agreed, before quickly clearing his throat. Demelza chuckled in victory. “Alright, I’ll tell her, thanks, Dem.” At this, Caroline’s head popped up from her phone, her face curious. “Bye!”

Caroline stared at Dwight as he placed his phone by her blanket feet. “Was that Demelza?” she asked innocently, knowing full well it was.

“Yeah, she says she got you a job at the café!”

Caroline spilt some of the tea on Dwight’s duvet as she happy-danced in celebration of her new job. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she tried to wipe it up with her hand, only spreading it further. 

“It’s OK, don’t worry about it. They’re due a wash anyways. Well done on the job! I’ll give you Dem’s number so you two can sort out a start date. What do you say we get you a celebratory breakfast that will simultaneously cure your hangover?”

Caroline shrugged. “Oh, Demelza already gave me her number last night. She’s so nice!” Dwight smiled in agreement. She sipped what remained of her tea, “What did you have in mind for breakfast?”

He stood up and placed his hand over his heart. “A waffle sandwich, the breakfast of champions,” he announced.

Caroline’s face contorted in disgust. “A waffle sandwich?”

Her expression caused Dwight’s face to fall. Thinking she must have misunderstood him, he elaborated: “Yeah. Like, potato waffles on a sandwich. It’s delicious. Have you never had one?”

Her laugh came out in a high-pitched tone. She threw the duvet cover off and gestured dramatically to her flawless, hourglass figure. “Does this look like the body of a woman who eats potatoes between slices of bread? I think I just gained half a stone thinking about it!”

Dwight managed not to allow his gaze to linger on her slender form. “Oh, come on. Did you not just tell me to live a little? You should take your own advice!”

Caroline narrowed her blue eyes at him and bit the inside of her cheek, considering the throbbing in her head. “You promise it will cure my hangover?”

“I promise,” he said, offering her his hand.

She took his offer of assistance and bent down to get her shoes. “Well, alright, then. But first I need to go home, shower and get changed. I should probably go pick up Horace from Mrs Figg, too. Can you wait half an hour?”

He could wait, and as soon as she left, he began to tidy his flat; washing the dishes and putting a small load of laundry on, tea-soaked bed covers included. Just as he was about to sit down, his phone pinged.

Caroline 12:11pm Hi! Sorry for taking ages, I had to sit down in the shower! Hangovers are the worst. I’m finally ready, but Horace is at my heels, is it okay if he comes too? X He’s really friendly. Plus, how can you say no to this little face? X

That was a cute little face, Dwight had to admit.

Dwight 12:11pm Of course Horace can come too x

Less than a minute later, she appeared at his door, wearing an oversized white woollen jumper and pink pug pyjama trousers while being draped in a fleece blanket. Horace growled at Dwight and stepped in front of Caroline.

Dwight laughed at her appearance and stepped aside to let her in, “You look comfy!”

“Oh, I am!” she confirmed with a grin as she entered.

He closed the door behind her and locked it. “What are those?” He asked, pointing to the bag of small, orange balls that dangled from her left hand.

She held them up and gave them a small shake. “They’re clearly oranges.”

He blinked slowly and let out a sigh, “I can see that but why?”

“Why not?” she asked, a tad indignant. “They have vitamin C and stuff, right? Plus, I need something to balance out all the carbs you’re forcing me to eat!”

“As a doctor, I can indeed confirm that oranges do have vitamin C.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, we may be hungover, but at least we won’t contract scurvy!”

Caroline groaned and swung the bag of tangerines at his side. “Oh, my God, stop! I can’t bear your terrible doctor jokes. If you don’t put a film on in the next ten seconds, Horace and I are leaving,” she teased, her nose aloft. Horace yapped in agreement, quite ready to leave right now, and continued to glare at the doctor man who had recently distracted his mum.

Dwight held his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. No more shit jokes! What do you want to watch?”

Caroline hummed as she considered this and sat herself down on the beige sofa. She swept her feet up before encouraging Horace to jump up and join her. “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,” she answered, almost automatically.

Dwight’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he placed his hand on his hips as he eyed the popular DVD boxset on the bookshelf. “The Goblet of Fire? Why?”

She looked at him as though the answer was obvious. “It’s the best one,” she announced with certainty, carefully smoothing Horace’s wrinkled brow.

He hung his head and shook it slowly, unable to process this information. “You’ve got to be kidding!” he insisted, “The Chamber of Secrets is the best. The Goblet of Fire isn’t even in my top 3!” The toaster pinged, signalling that the four potato waffles were at their peak crispiness.

Caroline glanced past Dwight and into the kitchen. “Well, then, why don’t you get my promised hangover cure and I’ll put The Goblet of Fire on and explain to you why you are wrong?” She batted her eyelids and smiled sweetly at him, and Dwight found himself doing her bidding.

“Are you always so demanding?” he called over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m afraid so!” She called back, smiling, not in the least bit sorry.

As he busied himself in the kitchen buttering some slices of bread, Caroline noticed some piles of paper on the coffee table as she crossed the room to fetch the DVD off the shelf. She placed the disk into the side of the large TV – which hung on the wall – and made her way back to the sofa, where Horace remained seated, sulking.  Her curiosity getting the better of her, she pried at the documents on the table: several folders with titles she could barely understand, charts, graphs, something about insulin.

“Oh, sorry about all of that,” he said as he came back into the room, placing their sandwiches down on an uncovered part of the coffee table. “It’s for work; I’m going away on Friday.” He offered her a sandwich before gathering his notes and putting them to one side.

Her heart fluttered oddly at his announcement, and she accepted the proffered brunch with a degree of hesitation. “Away? Where?” She finally took a small bite, and then another, and another.

“Boston. I’m attending a medical conference; I’ll be there for about two weeks.” He had said so casually, negating to tell her that he was, in fact, a guest speaker on account of his pioneering research into type 2 diabetes.

Two weeks was a long time, she thought. “Impressive!” He couldn’t tell if she was genuinely impressed or mocking him. “But you’ll miss my first day in the café, when I win over the hearts of millions with my coffee making skills!” She continued to devour the carb-loaded sandwich, annoyed that she genuinely liked it.

Dwight observed this and chuckled in victory, not even feeling the need to comment. He reached for a tangerine on the table and flicked it up in the air with his wrist before catching it again. “Hm, yeah, I’m sorry. You’ll have to make me one when I get back.” He rested his feet on the table and settled back into the sofa, press play on the DVD remote.

Caroline smirked as she chewed her sandwich, “I’ll see if I can fit into my schedule.”