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acourtofsnakes · 4 years

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Arir - Rogue, Chapter 2| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: After giving up, you and the Mandalorian go back to his ship, travelling out of Sorgan and back into space. It’s a long trip through hyperspace... there’s only so long you can ignore each other for. The differences between you and your hidden secret might cause clashes.. but when the time comes, will you act? Or not?

Warnings: swearing, injury detail, mentions of death/war etc, degradation (not in a nice way), flirtation/suggestive themes and the such? Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything.

AN: Thank you all for the love on the first chapter!! Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!!

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Word count: 6789

Also, the planet in which we visit here is the unnamed industrial planet from Season 2, Episode 1 with the creatures that like the dark.

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a Translation: Arir - To act

You swam around in hazy darkness for a while, in no rush to wake up. You were free from pain here, free from running, and from being hunted. It was… peaceful. You liked it here.

Unfortunately, this is your life. And you don’t have such good luck. Noise began to filter through the haze in your mind, the beeping of machinery and the muffled whir of engines.

You groaned softly, your head feeling like it was full of rocks as you forced open your eyes, blinking a few times. You looked around, seeing a holding area on what appeared to be the inside of a ship.

You were seated on the floor, the cold metal seeping through your trousers and as you pulled yourself up more comfortably, you found that your hands were cuffed to a metal pipe on the wall of the ship.

Opposite you, was a huge bank of… solid hunks of something, what looked like the bodies and faces of people and creatures stick in them. You frowned, squinting in the low light and then you realised that they were. Humans, creatures big and small, all trapped screaming in carbonite.

Brilliant.

Maybe the fact you were supposedly such a high bounty would keep you far away from being trapped in that.

Resting your head back, you stared at a spot in the corner of the room, just thinking. It took you a while, but you suddenly realised that your shoulder had been bound. It still hurt so much, but the wrappings around it kept it somewhat stable.

Interesting. The Mandalorian had wrapped your wounds before cuffing you in this holding cell of his ship.

It might have been hours later, but you were awoken from a light doze by boots thudding softly down the hall and then the Mandalorian was walking over, stopping in front of you, “Wake up.” He nudged your feet with his own, earning a groan from you.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to wake someone up when they’re asleep?” You glared at him, tilting your head back to look up at the impassive expression of the helmet.

He replied easily without missing a beat, “Don’t you know it’s rude to call someone heartless when you don’t even know who they are?”

You smiled slowly, dropping your eyelids to half-mast, “Uncuff me and we can get to know each other just fine, tin can.”

The eye roll was practically audible, but he knelt down, moving close to you as he reached for your wrist, “I was thinking we could keep the cuffs on.”

Maker, the way his voice dropped, that rasp coming through the modulator, his scent washed over you, smoke, metal and something else, something citrusy almost.

You swallowed, having not expected him to play back so quickly, thrown off.

He snickered, actually laughing as he undid the cuffs, snapping them back over your wrists, “You set yourself up for that one, sweetheart.” His voice betrayed the smirk that was clearly under the beskar as he pulled you to your feet. He pulled you past the carbonite chamber, round the corner and through the ship until you got to a ladder, “Go on.”

You looked up, then over your shoulder at him, “You want me to climb a ladder with my hands cuffed?” You raised your eyebrow, well aware of your own skill to be able to do so. After all, you’d been cuffed and still escaped with your wrists bound so many times, you’d lost count. Didn’t mean you couldn’t poke him a little.

Your protest was met with a tilt of his helmet, his voice dripping in false sweetness, “I saw you run across the canopy of a tree like you were flying. I think you’ll be able to manage this, princess.” He just stood there, watching you, one hand resting on his hip.

A few seconds passed, but you turned, giving in and climbing the ladder, resting your wrists on the rung above for balance. Maybe throwing a little extra sway into your hips as you rose up into what appeared to be a cockpit. Climbing out was a little difficult, the tin can below making no effort to help you.

When you got back to your feet, you looked around. It was cosy up here, two seats, big open windows that gave you a view to the outside, the stars blinking around the ship, scattered across the never-ending blackness.

The lights inside flickered on and off, instruments making soft beeps now and then. Resting to the side, was a metal sphere, sort of hovering there gently. That must be the Child, nestled inside, sleeping safely. And on top…

Duru.

Curled up with her nose tucked under her leg, her tail swishing gently.

You made a soft noise, taking a step toward her because you had been convinced that she was gone, deep in the forest.

The Mandalorian’s voice came from behind you suddenly, “By the time I’d carried you back to the ship, she was already at my feet. Lucky I have armour. Your little friend has a hell of a set of claws on her. I can see why she likes you.”

Something warm stirred in your chest as you beheld her sleeping form. She’d come back to you, tried to defend you. It warmed you so much, that you didn’t protest as the Mandalorian tugged you to the other chair, unbinding your wrists and instead attaching each one to either arm of the chair. He then settled into the pilots’ seat, leaning back, his legs spread naturally, and his arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest.

And just looked at you.

You blinked, shifting in your seat as you gazed back at him, raising an eyebrow faintly, “What?”

Nothing. He said nothing. Just kept looking at you. It was like you could feel his eyes running over you, burning into your skin and turning you inside out.

The seconds ticked by, minutes maybe and you started to get uncomfortable. “If you’re trying to undress me with your eyes, it’s not working.”

His arms relaxed, his hands coming to rest on his thighs, “I’m trying to work it out.”

You frowned in confusion, “Work what out?”

A tilt of the head, “Why your bounty is so high. You mess with the wrong people?”

You rolled your eyes, “No. I thought you didn’t care? I was just a bounty to you?”

He ignored you, maybe made a tiny huff, but still kept his head tilted, “Kill someone?”

You leant back in the chair, swinging it from side to side gently, “I think we covered that base already, tin can.”

“You steal something?”

“Only your heart.” You smiled an overly sweet smile, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Not even close.”

A thoughtful noise filtered through the modulator, “High class runaway bride from an arranged marriage?”

You stared at him, blinking once and then you burst out laughing, “Yeah, sure. I was engaged to a member of one of the Elder Houses. It was the night before my wedding and I couldn’t take it, so I ran away with all my upper class Lady-ness” You still laughed, shaking your head, “I thought you were supposed to be smart. You really think I’m of noble heritage and class?”

Mandalorian shrugged carelessly, “You’re self-righteous enough.”

“I’d rather be self-righteous than a pretentious asshole like you.”

“Did I say there was a difference?” He still faced you, assessing you. It made your skin prickle and you weren’t sure if it was entirely with discomfort.

“Did you get in with the wrong people? Make some bad friends?” Something occurred to him, something you said during your fight, “Are you a Jedi?”

Too far.

You stared at him, eyes suddenly like ice, “Stop. I’m not telling you, so stop asking.” Way too far.

“What is it? It must be something bad, I’ve seen the list that came before me, and who employed them. Only someone to do with the Jedi would pull in that much of a bounty so y-“

You cut across him, the playfulness dropping from your voice and leaving it dripping with cold fire, a stirring deep within you, a whisper of power. “Enough. I am nothing to you but your bounty, remember? Drop it.”

Before he could even form the words, his sniping protest was cut off by Duru awakening with a chitter, springing into your lap and then climbing up around your shoulders. Seconds later, the cradle opened, and its little green inhabitant sat up with a coo, looking straight at you.

Stars above, he was adorable.

Your lips melted back into a grin as you beheld his sort of wrinkled green face, large glossy black eyes blinking at you and the most adorable floppy bat ears. You laughed a little, “well, I can see why you went rogue for him. He’s the sweetest little thing.” You tilted your head, cooing back at him, “Hi, sweetie, look at you…”

The Mandalorian spun round, pressing a button on his wrist and the sphere snapped shut suddenly, “Don’t touch him. Or look at him. Leave him alone.”

You shifted a look of disbelief at him, eyebrows raised, “What, because I might hurt him by being strapped to a chair? Well done, Mando, you got it. I’m being hunted by so many people because I take one look at wrinkly, green babies and they die.” You threw your eyes up toward the ceiling yet again, this time with a noise of incredulity.

“Stop rolling your eyes at me.” His snarl both brought a shit-eating grin to your lips and made your toes curl. You chose to ignore the latter.

You laughed, still grinning as you leant forward as much as your bonds would allow, “Why, does it turn you on?”

You were rewarded with a growl this time and he turned his chair round to face the front of the ship, so quickly you were surprised he didn’t come full circle and face you again.

The seething silence was broken by a soft shwoomp and the cradle opened once more. The Child sat back up, looking at you with a tilted head like his father, those big bat ears lifting.

You lifted your fingers, wiggling them at him in a silent hello, earning yourself a delighted gurgle. Sweet little thing. The wall of beskar in front of you clearly had a soft heart underneath all that armour.

You leant back in the chair, pondering that for a little while, Duru’s tail hanging over your chest and brushing your forearm every now and then. The darkness outside the walls of the ship, the muffled hum of the engine and the occasional beeps of machinery provided a soft ambience that had your eyelids starting to droop. You hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in… forever. At least here, in the Razor Crest, there was some level of safety, enough that you could allow yourself to relax.

No!! Stop! You are in a ship, piloted by the rogue Mandalorian who is taking you back to Maker knows where for a large sum of money!

Wake. Up!

Your head jerked up and you shook it, trying to clear the sleepy haze from it. Maybe you should ask for a medic. Your judgement seemed to be failing you rather a lot lately.

Casting your eyes around, you looked for something to talk about, anything to keep yourself awake. You landed on Grogu’s crib again. “So… you’re really just... doing this on your own?”

Curiosity clearly got the better of him, because his voice filtered out through the helmet, that arrogant tone edging his words, “Do you see anyone else with me?”

You made a thoughtful noise, “I mean… keeping an eye out for people chasing you, taking jobs and hunting… all whilst looking after the kid at the same time… Aren’t you tired?”

“Don’t these kinds of questions come after we’ve known each other more than 6 hours?” He sounded bored, but you didn’t fail to notice the way his hand tightened on the controls.

Clearly you were hitting a nerve. And you weren’t going to let it drop, “But going to all these planets, doing what you do… not knowing who to trust…”

“Enough. Stop talking, if you can manage that.” That word was an order, your own word thrown right back at you in a low, gritted tone.

You raised an eyebrow at him – well, the back of his head, “You’re the one that brought me up here. You could have left me shackled to the pipes downstairs and saved yourself the annoyance.”

Mandalorian made a noise of what could have been frustration or regret at that decision, “I brought you up here so I could keep an eye on you. I don’t trust you down there.”

Now that brought a smirk to your lips, “You think I could have gotten out.” It wasn’t a question. “Afraid I’ll find your weapons and slit your throat?”

The ship glided easily through the vast openness of stars and darkness, falling around you like you were the only people in the galaxy.

He snorted, “Please don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. The day you can do that is the day the stars implode.”

You rolled your eyes at the back of his head, resting your cheek against Duru’s tail. Dick.

Movement caught your eye and Mando turned to face you, his hands on his thighs after seemingly putting the ship on autopilot, “I thought I told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “I thought I asked if it turned you on. You never answered.”

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, “And if it does?” That rasp had dropped, caressing your bones, sliding over them with a dark whisper. He had leant forward in his chair, hands sliding down his thighs and you couldn’t help but look at them, the way they spread over the amour plates. Fuck.

You shifted your eyes back up to him, willing your cheeks not to flush with the unbidden thoughts “I thought I was nothing more than a bounty to you?” You raised an eyebrow, fingers tapping on the arms of the chair. You were only his bounty… so... why this flirting?

Mandalorian laughs, as if sensing your thoughts, “Relax, I’m just playing with you.” He shrugged easily, “I brought you up here because…” He hesitated, immediately piquing your curiosity.

“Because?”

He almost sighed a little bit, “Because you gave in. Usually, they only give in when they know they’re dead. They give in because they think I’ll let them go. But with you…” He tilted his head a little, ”I could tell it wasn’t that.”

Your eyes flickered over his helmet, debating whether or not to talk to this man. He was here on the request and money of someone who wanted you. But… it had been so long since you had someone to talk to… And your instincts weren’t screaming at you that this man was dangerous. In fact, they were oddly silent. “I gave up because… you were right. So many people have died because of me. Whether they were people that I knew, or people that were… collateral damage. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else dying for me. It makes me sick; I hate myself for it. Even if I had gotten away from you, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Mando’s voice was almost… soft, “Why not?”

You swallowed, just knowing he must have seen it, “Because even though you gave me a choice… to give in or be dragged in dead... someone else would have come after me. Someone else who no doubt wouldn’t have given me that choice. And… I’m just tired.” You hated the way your voice broke on that last word, hated that you’d just revealed all of that to a Mandalorian of all people. But it had happened anyway. No more. No more talking.

He stayed looking at you for a long while, perhaps debating whether to say something. He just nodded very slightly, and then turned back to the controls.

The next few hours slipped past… easily. You spent some of it in silence, some if in just absent conversation, as if he wasn’t a Mandalorian and you weren’t a bounty handcuffed to a chair.

He took you to another part of the ship when night rolled around – not that you’d know with the endless stars, but you supposed he had an internal body clock that ran a routine. It was a sort of storage room, cramped with boxes but it was warm and quiet, just the hum of the engines. Upon arrival, you’d noticed that he’d cleared a space in the corner, laid some blankets out.

You hadn’t been able to help expressing your surprise, “No wonder you have such a high success rate. This is luxury compared to what some of us bounties live in.”

He’d shrugged again, but something about the way he held his body and his voice had sounded… bashful? “There’s not many sleeping spaces in the ship and… you’re not a murderer or a criminal so…” He shrugged, almost floundering, “As far as I know. I just… thought it might be more comfortable. Besides, I couldn’t leave you in the cockpit, who knows if you’d get that cat of yours to do something.“

“Mando. Thank you.” You had cut him off before he dug himself a deeper hole, the atmosphere becoming a little odd. He had let you lie down – then re-cuffed one of your wrists to the wall, and then went on his way.

Sleep came quickly that night, exhaustion weighing your lips down again but not before you’d sat and pondering the last 4 hours in your head. You’d said more to him about yourself than you had anyone in… years. Weird. Best not dwell on it.

A soft cry woke you what seemed like minutes later, echoing down from the belly of the ship. You sat up, awkwardly, one hand still attached to the wall, ears pricked and listening. It came again, a pitiful cry that you realised was the Child, who had seemingly woken up in the night. You listened for a while, waiting to hear if Mando came but he didn’t.

You couldn’t just leave the Child to cry… what if he’d had a bad nightmare?

Looking at the cuff on your wrist thoughtfully, you reached into your hair, braided back. He clearly hadn’t noticed, but you kept long pins in your hair, the pretence of keeping wisps back from your face. Really though, they were a weapon, specially crafted pins with sharp ends that would hurt an incredible amount if jammed into someone’s eye. They also came in pretty handy as lock picks and you’d used them on more than one occasion to get out of cuffs.

They were one of your most prized belongings. And they would come in perfectly handy right now.

Within seconds, you were free, padding down the hall quietly as you made your way up to the next level, following the crying.

You’d located his little compartment not long later and it opened at your touch.

Inside, bundled in soft rags and blankets, was Grogu. He was sitting up, his big bat ears hanging down and cries emanating from such a tiny body, straight to your heart.

You pouted a little, reaching in and gently picking him up, “Hey… none of that, little one. What’s wrong?” You held him against your hip, instinct taking over and you began to rock gently, your hand lifting to stroke his floppy ears.

Grogu cried still, little stubby hands curling into fists in your cloak as you rocked him. Maybe he’d had a bad dream after all?

You thought back, trying to remember when you were young, scared or upset and what your mother would sing to you. You looked down at the Child, the words coming back easily and then you began to sing, softly. At the same time, you began walking up and down in front of his compartment, adding a gentle rock still to give him a reassuring movement.

Almost at once, his cries stopped, instead turning to sniffly gasps of air and he tilted his head curiously at you, perhaps wondering what you were doing.

As if you could understand him somehow, you smiled around the lyrics of the song, just a lullaby your mother always used to coax you back to sleep.

It took you five repetitions of the song, countless steps up and down but finally, finally his little green head slumped against your chest, his breathing slowing and ears relaxing.

You let out a soft breath of relief, singing the song so quietly now, keeping up your routine just to make sure the kid stayed out.

Unfortunately, other people didn’t seem to share that idea and footsteps came clanging down the hall, running. At once, Mando’s voice appeared before he did, “Leave him alone, whatever you are doing, put him down. You will NOT hurt him, I’ll-“ He rounded the corner, armour on and blaster raised.

“Shhhh!” You glared at him, cradling the back of the Child’s head and you hissed at the Mandalorian, “Do you want him to wake back up?! It’s taken me 20 minutes to get him to go back to sleep. If you wake him up, I will put you in the refresher until your precious armour rusts.”

He made a noise, his blaster still hovering in the air, “It’s beskar. It can’t rust. And you weren’t where I left you, your cuffs were on the floor and I couldn’t hear Grogu.”

He checked on you? Choosing to ignore that bit, you merely raised your eyebrows at him, “So you assumed… what? That I was hurting him?” You made a noise of disbelief, “Relax, tin can, it’s past midnight. I won’t turn into a child eating monster until tomorrow.” You shook your head, turning your back on him as you rocked Grogu again, walking back to the compartment.

His footsteps sounded from behind you, following you like a ghost, “You got him to sleep?”

You carefully disentangled Grogu from your cloak, placing him back inside his little nest. “Yes.” The word was clipped as you made sure he was tucked in warm and safe, shut the compartment and then turned to look at Mando, starting a little when you saw just how close he was to you and so you crossed your arms.

His helmet was tilted down to look at you and he slowly put the blaster away, “It usually takes me a lot longer to get him down.” His voice was quiet as he admitted this to you, “What was that you were singing to him? I heard you just before…”

You flicked your eyes over the visor of his helmet, wondering if you’d tell him. There was no harm in it, your mother was gone. It wouldn’t hurt her, “It’s a lullaby that my mother used to sing for me.”

He nodded a little after a second or two, “It sounded beautiful. Thank you… for seeing to him.”

You mimicked his nod, loosening your arms to your sides, “You don’t need to worry, Mandalorian. I’m not going to hurt him. Or you. So you can stop acting like I’m a monster.” Please. It’s bad enough that I think that about myself. I don’t need another person thinking it too.

He stepped back, but his voice was soft when he next spoke, “I’m sorry. I know… It’s just instinct. You know, with the kid.” He gestured toward where Grogu now slept and his helmet lingered toward you before he turned and went back to wherever he came from, allowing you to go back to your space unattended. Clearly proving that he believed you.

It left you confused, this hot and cold behaviour, the lingering atmosphere.

The next day, the Mandalorian informed you that he was picking up another bounty on the way to wherever he was taking you. It wouldn’t take long, just a quick stop on a small industrial planet and then you’d be back on your way.

You merely nodded, keeping quiet today after revealing so much yesterday.

He left you to your own devices, brining you up to the cockpit with him again, but not cuffing you this time. Like he trusted you not to kill him.

The day passed with little to no action, just travelling and idle chitchat and then you were back staring at the ceiling in your little nest before you knew it.

Sleep must have taken you at some point, because when you woke up, the hum of the engines was silent. You figured you’d landed at this planet, so you got up, Duru back on your shoulders and went to look for Mando.

He wasn’t in the cockpit when you went up, but Grogu was in his cradle, so he can’t be far.

A quick tour of the ship revealed nothing. Except that as you passed, you noticed the ramp was open, unguarded which was… odd. He wouldn’t just leave it open. You were a bounty, and he had a child that liked to explore. Maybe you’d just missed him somewhere.

You examined every inch of the ship twice more but… he just wasn’t there. All your search turned up was the weapons cabinet which he had seemingly left unlocked. It was extensive, holding many knives and daggers, blasters, grenades of different types and some things you’d never seen before. Impressive. Your bow wasn’t there, but your vibroblade was, so after a moment’s hesitation, you’d slipped it back into the sheath on your thigh.

Your footsteps seemed far too loud as you crept back toward the open ramp of the ship. Something wasn’t right.

Weapons cabinet unlocked. Grogu unguarded. Your cuffs left off and the ramp open. Had something happened to him?

Unless… unless this was a trap, and he’d done it on purpose.

Why would he be setting a trap? Where would I run to even if I did escape? He said he’d trusted me and he left me uncuffed.

A frown fell on your face as you reached the top of the ramp, staring into the empty street beyond.

There was no sign of him. No sign of anyone, actually. The street was almost pitch black, pockets of light beneath streetlamps providing the only clues to where you were. Jagged structures were silhouetted from the light, structures that look like metal, sharp edges and hard landscaping. Must be some kind of industrial planet. And where the light from lamps or buildings didn’t reach… were those red eyes glowing in the dark? Nevermind. It seemed clear. So… do you go?

You bit your lip, fiddling with the edge of your cloak, booted foot tapping on the metal ramp. If he hadn’t done this to purposefully trap… you could escape. Wouldn’t have to face whatever was coming for you. You could back out of the decision you made back on Sorgan.

Something made you glance back, up at the ceiling where you knew Grogu’s crib sat in the cockpit. He’d be fine. He was safe in there. The ramp would probably close when you left it anyway.

You made a soft noise of annoyance at yourself, at your hesitation. Yes, you’d given up on Sorgan, but maybe you were a little hasty in that department. No matter. Time to go.

You squared your shoulders, lifting your cloak so it covered your head and Duru’s body around your shoulders and began to make your way down the ramp and into the quiet street. The air was a little chilly, smelling like oil, smoke and metal.

In the distance, you could hear rumbling, fighting almost. People came from the distance, rough looking people. Different species, some more humanoid with tails or claws, others straight up… monsters.

Okay… so maybe you should get off of this planet as soon as you could.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice the few people that were lingering about were sticking to the bubbles of light on the floor or coming from windows. If they had to cross through shadow and darkness, they ran through it quickly, really quickly.

Maybe you were right about the eyes in the dark.

A noise to your left caught your attention, a soft whine of a noise coming from a dark corner. You slowed down, something snagging at you. It sounded like… something was in pain. Something was hurt. You tilted your head, feeling Duru’s warm breath in your ear, wondering if you should help.

Another pitiful whimper rose from the darkness and had you walking over, stepping out of the light and into the shadow of the street. You looked around, blinking to get your eyes adjusted, looking for the source of the whimpers. You reached out, feeling for the edge of the building that shoulder be somewhere around here, but instead of feeling hard metal, you felt… flesh.

Flesh?

Yes. Warm, scaled, wet flesh. Something sticky dripped onto your hand, a low snarl coming above your head, and in your mind, you had a flash of some great, terrible creature, with those glowing red eyes, a mouthful of sharp teeth, dripping with blood-

Duru hissed, a warning yowl coming from her chest, her claws digging into your shoulder.

That decided it.

You bolted, turning around and practically flying back into the light, toward the little bubbles of sanctuary and it occurred to you, that you probably looked as crazy as the other villagers.

Okaaay, maybe definitely NOT the best idea to leave the Razor Crest.

A shudder licked down your spine and you began to walk again, making sure to keep in the pools of light on the floor. You were at a bit of a loss. Do you go back to the ship? Or carry on going?

Today was just full of decisions wasn’t it.

You kept walking, aiming for the building just ahead that looked like a cantina, when a metallic thud resounded in the alley way next to you. You kept your eyes planted firmly ahead, ignoring it. No more going into dark alleyways, especially not here.

A familiar, raspy voice broke the silence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong.”

Ah. Mando. So that’s where he was. No matter. Let him have a fight in an alleyway. He’d win anyway, obviously.

You shook your head, looking toward the cantina again but… it seemed your feet had decided to stop obeying your head. You were moving, but toward the edge of the alleyway, hiding against the corner and peering around the wall.

The Mandalorian was being pinned against a wall by a guy just as tall as him, human looking except for the long tail that rose from behind him, black and scaly and ending in a sharp looking barb that made your skin crawl.

“Liar.” The snarl was punctuated with the sound of Spikey pulling a knife from his thigh, shrill where he dragged it over the beskar- “There’s no one else around, Mandalorian so tell me. Now. Where. Is. She?” Each word was accentuated with a punch. “You’ve got her trussed up on that ship of yours? Give her to me.”

An uncomfortable feeling began to creep over you, like you knew what they were talking about.

Mando grunted in pain again, his voice taut, “Get it through that thick skull of yours. I don’t have her.” He lifted his arm, clearly about to burn this creep.

Too slow. What was wrong with him?

The guy with the spikey tail grabbed Mando’s wrist and slammed it against the wall next to his head. “I know you have her. You had her fob in your pocket. She’s on your ship.”

Because of you. He was getting beaten because of you. Why wasn’t he giving you up? Did he really want the money over your head that badly? What was wrong with him? He always wins… why wasn’t he winning? You frowned, peering further around the alleyway and then it dawned on you.

Blood. Coating the armour of his knee, turning the metal slick and shiny red. It must have been bad, he looked like he could barely keep his weight on it.

Spikey Tail laughed suddenly, leaning in close and kicking Mando’s leg, earning another gritted cry, “Oooh, you freak. You wanna keep her don’t you? Gonna turn her into a toy to keep you entertained on your travels? Must get lonely on that ship, I don’t blame you. She looked like she’d be a good little slu-“

His words were cut short, Mando’s free hand jamming into the guys throat, squeezing and choking off his air.

You saw the mistake just before the Mandalorian seemed to realise it himself. He’d left his side exposed, open to attack.

This was bad. This was really, really bad. You didn’t know why he was defending you, but he was. And because of it -

A raspy, choked groan of pain brought you back to the present.

The guy with the spikey tail had seen the opening, jamming his knife in Mando’s side behind the armour plates, a cruel, long serrated blade. Spikey’s face lit up when he heard the noise of pain coming from the other man, and with a chilling laugh, he twisted the knife, pushing it in deeper to the hilt.

Instinct took over and suddenly you were running down the alleyway, barely feeling Duru scramble down your body and run toward Mando. You were too busy careening straight into Spikey’s side. The force of your run and surprise allowed you to knock him back, away from Mando and land a sharp kick to his rib. You quickly sent a punch to his face, feeling a tooth knock loose before hands game up and pushed you back, toward the shadows at the edges of the alleyway.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, bitch?!” Spikey’s tail flicked in annoyance as he moved back into the light, as if the darkness burned. Or bit.

As he came forward, his bloody face split into another grin as he recognised you, “Oh. So, he DID have you after all. I thought you’d be strung to a bed, laying all pretty and open for him to get back.”

A noise of disgust came from your throat, “What the fuck is wrong with this planet?” You leapt for him again, a swift uppercut to his jaw, and then into his throat. “Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.”

Spikey Tail snarled, his head jerking forward and connecting with yours with a force that had stars bursting in your eyes. The distraction cost you a foot in your ribs and you swore you heard one of them crack. “Slut. I’m going to break you like I did your friend here and then get that bounty. Might even ask if I could keep you.”

You shook the haze from your head, trying to draw him away from the Mandalorian, “You talk way too much for being in a fight.” You lifted your fists, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, every breath you took. Feeling like shards of glass.

A noise, almost like a snort came from the semi-conscious beskar-clad man behind you. It seemed he was thinking back to your fight on Sorgan.

You looked over your shoulder at him, raising your eyebrows but then, before you could answer, a hand was around your throat and you were thrown up against the wall. Quite literally, your feet dangled a few inches above the ground, held up by whatever freak strength Spikey Tail had.

“You fight hard. But you’re weak. I don’t know who they sent after you before, but they were incompetent. Even the famous Mandalorian couldn’t bring you in.” His hand tightened around your throat, making the already difficult task of breathing become even harder. “I never fancied myself a bounty hunter, but maybe I’ll change my mind once I get my hands on that big fat reward over your head” He leant in and the stench of rotten meat and stale alcohol washed over you, making you gag.

He laughed, and his tail came up and round him, the barb on the end dragging over your cheek and feeling like a lick of fire, “And then I’ll get my hands on you.” He looked down at you, as if he could see beneath your clothes, his eyes becoming glazed in a way that had your blood running cold, “I bet you feel so good. Imagine all of the things I could do to a little slut like you. The pretty noises you’d make for me.” His head tilted back up, coming closer to yours as he dropped his gaze to your lips.

You struggled, gasping for air as you felt your head swim, scrambling for your knife.

Your power, use your power. Just use it, get him away, kill him, choke him. Just get him away from you and Mando-

A blast echoed in the alleyway, and Spikey grunted in pain, slumping forward slightly. You saw your opening, finally grasping slick fingers on the hilt of your blade and you yanked it free of your thigh, swinging it up and jamming it into his neck.

He let go of you and went down instantly as you severed the arteries in his throat, spraying you with hot blood.

You collapsed to your knees, pushing his body away as you began coughing, working air into your protesting lungs. Nausea washed over you as the movement jolted your ribs, making you realise there had to be more than one broken.

You lifted your head, eyes searching and then you found him.

Slumped on the floor, head tilted to the side resting on his shoulder like it was too heavy to keep up, facing you. Movement had your gaze dropping as his hand fell to the floor, holding his blaster.

He’d shot Spikey, he’d… saved your life? Just like you’d saved his..

You stared at the Mandalorian for a moment, panting as you still tried to breathe, your knife still in your hand dripping blood. Suddenly, you let go of it and you were crawling across the floor to him, your hands knocking his out of the way and pushing against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Wait. What were you doing?

You blinked, looking down at your hands, then back up at his helmet. You could see your expression reflected in the visor. Your eyes were a little wide, a spray of blood on your face from the man you just killed, for the one who’s life you were trying to keep in his body. Your neck was ringed in red, the cut on your cheek bleeding slowly.

Run. Leave him and run.

He looked back up at you, slumped on the ground, one blood-soaked hand on his chest where you had pushed it away from his wound.

Leave him. He’s only going to turn you in. RUN.

Your hands began to lift, but then stopped, hesitating and then returning as fresh, hot blood ran down his side. No. You couldn’t leave him here.

Yes. You should. He doesn’t have any hope in getting up and coming after you. Find the fob, destroy it and get out of here. He means nothing to you and you mean nothing to him. You are prey and he is the hunter.

But… he’d saved you… and you had saved him. He trusted you.

You swallowed, your mind a frenzy of reasons, choices, trying to figure out what to do. Your survival instinct was screaming at you, run, run, run, but… Look at him. You could hear the jagged breaths coming through the helmet, static crackling through the modulator.

His attacker was already turning cold behind you, killed by your hand as easy as drawing a breath. You had saved the Mandalorian and now, he lay dying in front of you. If you ran, he would bleed out in a couple of hours, dumped in some back alley. His life was in your hands, literally, warm and wet and coming far too quickly.

This had to be clear on your face, in your eyes as you debated whether to safe yourself or him. Be brave or a coward. Act or run.

A soft noise crackled through his helmet, and you looked back up at him, but he said nothing. No sniping comments about being a coward, no pleas to save his life. Nothing. Silence. Letting you decide his fate as if deciding what to have for dinner.

So… what should you do?

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #grogu #star wars #the child #the force #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader

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rightnowyoucanttell · 4 years

Note

2 & 12 from the sappy prompts!

SLIGHT SPOILERS FROM S3 but not really

Sure! You didn’t specify who, so imma write for billy since I haven’t done that before (and I have a soft spot for him ngl ✨🥺🥺) I’m sorry if this isn’t who you wanted, feel free to resubmit it and I’ll write it again

NOT MY GIF

#2 please don’t leave me

#12 I want you only you

Yes, I am aware this if from sappy prompts. But, idk I’m weird, I’m a weirdo. I hope this is ok, if not please let me know, I’m not even sure I like this one

⚠️: angst, cheating, ect. (This is before the flayed, ect. Pretty much in the space between season 2, the only difference is that the reader kind of catches him with mrs. wheeler and three)

Billy was acting different, way more than the usual. Billy moved to Hawkins about a year ago it was your anniversary. You waited at the mall food court four an hour, upon your request you were going to eat some shitty food court food and stop for ice cream. But he never showed. Billy, your Billy, never showed. He always showed it didn’t make sense. You got all dolled up though. The earrrings he bought you for your birthday months prior, a low cut red dress, with a jean jacket and heels. You even curled your hair because you knew he loved it most of all.

You sihed loudly, getting up from your seat, and began walking towards scoops, having decided to get some ice cream solo, you strolled to the counter and made gloomy eye contact with Steve, he too had the same drained expression on his face, “aho-“ you lifted a finger to silence him before he continued.

“Strawberry with sprinkles, and a vanilla to go..” you drifted off,”please. Steve.” He pursed his lips before turning around fixing the cone and dish. Scenarios played through your head. Who, where and why. Then a scene played in your head.

The pool had just opened a week ago, just folllowing the grand opening of the mall. Billy got a job for the summer as a life guard, you came by on your day off, you noticed the older women starring which wasn’t out of the normal. You noticed the flirtatious look between him and Mrs. Wheeler.. they were more than stares...oh. My. God.

You suddenly imagined, Mrs.wheeler with her hands in his hair, his hands on her, some cheap ass candle in the background burning to cover the smell of the sex and cigarettes. It all clicked, the ringing of the bell infront of you brought you back to earth, “you good Y/N?” You took a deep breath prepping to respond to Steve, you didn’t want to elaborate knowing Steve already hated billy.

“Uh, yeah. The vanilla is for Robin, keep the change,” you fingers dragged off the twenty you left on the counter, not caring. It was way more than you needed, you took the ice cream and left, head hung low. Leaving the vanilla, Billy’s vanilla, leaving it behind.

Like he left you behind.

You passed max, Lucas and mike on your way out. Your hand slipped sadly as you threw the untouched ice cream fell into a green trashcan, your hand dragged as you continued walking, ignoring the kids. There childlike voices echoing in and out as anger fogged your brain. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t want to accidentally tell mike his mother was sleeping with Max’s stepbrother. That would be crazy, it sounds crazy. You had a little hope however. Maybe he was innocently teaching her, maybe it’s all in your head, maybe you lost your mind. But, you couldn’t be too sure.

You knew where you were going but you walked zoned out, past the people, past the record store, past the benches, past the surplus of minivans in the parking lot, and then out onto the open road.

You arrived at the motel six, luckily not having an accident, the one with the big pool, you knew what he was doing. If he was doing it. Billy pulled the same thing with you a month prior, wanting to teach you a night Neil was home. Neil didn’t approve of you. For whatever reason he hated a deep hatred for billy being happy. And you were part of that equation, instant hatred. You slammed the door shut of your shitty car in the shitty parking lot of the shitty hotel, where your shitty cheating boyfriend was, and there it was. The blue camero.

It was cold, the lights were on inside, and you could see the relegation of the pool in the window, but not enough to see inside, it was dark the sun had finished setting on your way there. You gritted your teeth wanting to storm inside.

Evil thoughts clouded your brain, you couldn’t at first imagine why Neil hated his son, but you had a feeling or a sense of why now. He was selfish, rude, and inconsiderate. But, it was Neils fault he was that way in the end, You felt bad, maybe it was your fault, your fault he felt deprived of whatever Mrs. Wheeler was giving him.

Even though you knew it was wrong, your mother taught you better than that but you did it.

You wrote on the back of a receipt.

Billy,

I know what you did. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong. But, please don’t leave me. I want you only you. Please, let’s talk it out.

- Y/N

You left the note under his windshield wiper, you hoped it wasn’t going to rain so he’d get to see it without the ink being smudged. You drove home, leaving the scene of infidelity and the blue camero behind. You waited up for a call for an hour before drifting off to sleep, you woke the next morning to a tapping on your bedroom window. Did he get your desperate attempt in ridding him of responsibility?

A/N: I hate this, but imma press post anyways,

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove angst #cheating #sappyprompts #stranger things #steve harrington

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jeongjaebae · 4 years

Text

No mistletoe required

⇢ Jaehyun x reader ⇢ 9.3k | AO3 ⇢ a cute and funny holiday college AU (lowkey enemies to lovers)

To your utter surprise and dismay, there's your neighbour. The one directly across from you who keeps turning the decorating into a competition, who happens to be setting up the next batch of lights on their door at this very moment. And that kind of ruins the previously good mood you were in, so you open the door to give them a piece of your mind.

Why are you still here? Why are you still putting up decorations? Why are you turning this into a competition that I never asked to join—

"Why are you shirtless."

Or: There were three things you did not expect to encounter this holiday season. The first was to have someone else staying on campus over the winter break with you. The second, to have this person as your neighbour who tries to one-up you in Christmas decorations. The third, that this said neighbour would be hot.

Not going home for the holidays really wasn't the worst thing in the world. In fact, part of you was looking forward to doing whatever the heck you wanted without your roommates in the dorm, and not having any extended family members around to lie about having a good GPA or significant other to. Not that your GPA wasn't good, but the significant other category might need some work. Either way, you were excited to be able to finally bake Christmas cookies, decorate the entire apartment, and marathon your list of Christmas movies all while wearing your comfiest (ugliest) clothes and being sufficiently inebriated. There would be no one around to judge you while you screamed the lyrics to All I want for Christmas is You while dancing around in your pajamas. There would be no one around you for miles as even the RAs go home for the holidays.

It was like a dream come true.

"Today's going to be the day the rest of the door decorations go up," you announce to no one in particular. That's definitely another benefit of being all alone in this residence building—you could talk to yourself without sounding crazy. "They are long overdue so let's get this party started!"

There really weren't too many decorations left in your possession. You'd brought only a few things from home when you first moved in, like the cute ornament that looked exactly like your dog back home, a bow (for your hair but holiday decor takes priority right now), and a string of fairy lights that was originally for decorating your room but will now be taped onto the front door because you refuse to lose this unspoken decorations contest to the neighbour directly across from you.

This contest had begun a couple of weeks ago when you and your roommates had first put up a wreath on the door. It was already December at that point, so it wasn't exactly too early to start with the decorations, but with finals coming up none of the other students had decorated their doors. You'd thought the wreath that your roommate Rose brought was such a nice touch to remind everyone that the holidays were coming soon and that you'd all pull through with finals. Just a sign of hope and love and all the warm and coziness that you loved about Christmastime.

So when you opened the door later that afternoon and saw an identical wreath on your neighbour's door, you were stunned. You almost thought they stole it at first, but then seeing how yours was still there, that made you question some things. Maybe it was just a coincidence that they happened to have the same wreath, and they only put it up when they were reminded by seeing your wreath.

That was the first time, anyway.

A few days later, your roommates had brought out some pretty Christmas lights to wrap around the wreath. Again, it was just to lift the spirits of everyone during the dreadful time that is finals season. So you guys wrapped the lights carefully around the wreath, making sure that no one would trip on extension cords or anything like that. It ended up looking really nice and you were kind of proud of your festive door.

Until you saw your neighbour's door that also had an added string of Christmas lights.

Even worse, theirs did not simply wrap around the wreath like yours did but framed the entire door instead. It was as if they drew around the door frame with a highlighter because now all the attention would go straight to their door and leave yours completely drowned out.

The third time it happened was with the ornaments. You'd put your dog ornament on the wreath along with the other objects that your roommates had brought, some of which were pretty questionable (Rose's sparkly bottle cap, Jihyo's homemade felt gingerbread man, and Miyeon's earring?), but the overall vibe was still nice. It made the hallway feel more Christmassy than before and you knew that your copycat neighbour would not be able to mimic this.

But somehow they did.

You'd been trying to catch a glimpse of this lame neighbour through the peephole of your door all day, but the moment you stepped away for a much needed bathroom break, that's when their ornaments went up. You had come back from your under 30 seconds of a break and looked through the peephole and gawked at those twinkling ornaments—proper Christmas ornaments! The neighbour had hung them on the string of lights framing the door so that the lights bounced off and looked even brighter, shinier, warmer.

It also made you want to punch a wall.

That had been the week before finals. Your roommates were out of decorations at that point and you wanted to channel your anger into studying, so nothing had been done about the decorations. Unsurprisingly, your neighbours also did not add anything else to their door decor, which definitely squashed any chance of coincidence.

But now that everyone has gone home for the winter break, you were determined to put up the most extravagant decorations and have your neighbours come back to their defeat. The fairy lights in your room were ready for the world to see as you blasted a playlist of Christmas songs at decibels much higher than normally allowed. You had the tape in hand and were ready to go into battle. The door still had a ton of space below the wreath, so you started there and created a Christmas tree shape with the lights, taping them at every corner with the little battery holder acting as a base of the tree. Your bow hair accessory went at the very stop as a makeshift star, and you ripped out a sheet from your spiral lab notebook and cut off the ripped side to use as tinsel for this makeshift tree. It looked nice and cute and was definitely cooler than any traditional decorations.

"Okay, now that that's done I can finally get on with the Christmas cookies," you say to yourself.

The rest of the day was spent on baking some cute sugar cookies using Miyeon's cookie cutters of various non-holiday shapes, and some red and green food colouring which turned your icing into pink and green. So much for Christmas vibes. They were still cute though.

But just after you put the cookies in the oven, that's when you hear the creaking of a door and some shuffling sounds. You even turn down your music the slightest bit to hear what was going on because who could possibly still be here in this building? You had been certain that everyone would be going home and you hadn't heard a sound in days.

To your utter surprise and dismay, there's your neighbour. The one directly across from you who keeps turning the decorating into a competition, who is setting up the next batch of lights on their door at this very moment. You watch for a few seconds through the peephole as this mysterious competitor adjusts the lights on the door just slightly below the wreath, so all you could see was a hand.

And that kind of ruins the previously good mood you were in, so you open the door to give them a piece of your mind.

Why are you still here? Why are you still putting up decorations? Why are you turning this into a competition that I never asked to join—

"Why are you shirtless." You eye him up and down, the sight in front of you temporarily distracting you from the long speech you were planning on bombarding him with. "Um, that's so rude? You're basically giving everyone totally unsolicited naked pictures of you and your...abs, embedded into their minds forever."

That doesn't seem to startle him at all, as he simply stares back at you without missing a beat. "And," he looks at you up and down too, "your ugly Christmas sweater will be ingrained into my mind forever."

"Excuse you?" You weren't even wearing an ugly Christmas sweater though; this was just one of your regular cozy sweaters. "Well, is it hot in here or is it just you?" you spit out, the words dripping with sass.

Wait. What.

That came out totally wrong and was not at all how it sounded in your head.

He pauses for a second too but just breaks into a chuckle. "Why, thank you."

"I meant hot! In your apartment! You're the only one feeling the heat since you're clearly hot enough to be shirtless in the middle of winter!"

The corners of his lips raise the slightest bit along with an eyebrow, and that's when you knew he caught on to the last bit of what you said. "I'm hot enough to be shirtless?"

"You are not hot, okay? Like, opposite of hot. You're so freezing cold that I am going to leave before I get hypothermia" you lied through your teeth. Anyone who could say that he's not hot would be lying but that doesn't mean you'd ever admit it.

"So I'm too cool for you?"

"Bye, boy."

And with that you slam your door shut and collapse right against it.

That's the neighbour who's been secretly competing against your holiday decor? You hadn't pictured anyone in particular when you thought about the lame neighbour putting up decorations on their door, but this guy has got to be the farthest thing possible from anything in your realm of expectations. Even though you spent most of that interaction avoiding looking at him at all, you definitely saw enough. More like too much. But surely a guy who looks like every girl's quarterback frat boy crush with muscles like The Rock couldn't possibly be interested in being less than five feet away from Christmas decorations? And what was he still doing here anyways, away from all the friends and family back home?

On top of that, now you had to continue this dumb contest for the rest of the break since you refused to let someone like that win at this.

***

The next day consisted of waking up to a drained laptop battery, your list of Christmas movies marked as complete, and no memory of having watched any of them because you'd fallen asleep near the beginning of the movie marathon. Cookies were left half eaten on the plate with crumbs everywhere and your mug had stains from the dried remnants of hot chocolate. It takes you a minute to collect yourself and for a good while, you'd forgotten about the awkward encounter with shirtless neighbour.

Until you hear him singing.

It wasn't a song that you recognized but that didn't matter because you were dazed. Firstly, that boy could sure sing. Yesterday his talking voice hadn't left any impressions on you probably because he hadn't said much and you were too busy noticing the insults that came out of that mouth, but his singing voice today is a whole different story. It's fairly deep but somehow still soft, and its timbre fits perfectly with the smooth R&B song he's singing. Of course you'd never admit it, but this was such a turn on and you did not know how to handle this information.

And secondly, it turns out the walls were not as soundproof as you thought, which meant he probably heard everything from your high notes screaming session to you talking to yourself about beating that dumbass neighbour at this stupid decorating contest. It was embarrassing, to say the least, but on the other hand, if he'd heard you through the walls then maybe he would know better than to sing and risk having you hear. Well, unless he's turning that into a competition too which may be a good possibility given how competitive he seems.

After eating an abnormally late breakfast at 3pm, you went to take out the large pile of trash that was overflowing the garbage can. It was long overdue but had just become an object in the background as everyone went through finals in the past few weeks. In short, it stank and was ruining your holiday mood.

There was something else that was ruining your holiday mood though. The first thing you see when you open the door to go take out the garbage... was your shirtless neighbour. Only he wasn't shirtless this time; he had a tee on but was still exposing those toned arms as he was, to your disbelief, still putting up some more decorations on their door. It seems like he actually did not copy your fairy lights idea yesterday because today he's taping up Christmas gift wrapping paper on the door. As if his apartment was a gift to anyone! You were sure that was a fire hazard or something but there were no RAs around to even report this to.

He freezes when you open your door and makes the most awkward eye contact with you for a few seconds too long.

"Wow, nice to see you in a shirt today," you say with heavy sarcasm dripping off those words. "Feeling kind of cold?"

"Nice to see you too." He doesn't take the bait but entirely changes the subject, a neutral but inviting expression on his face. "Hey, are your roommates here too?" And the dimples. Ugh, you could not look away from the dimples.

"What?" You pause. "Why?"

"Oh it's nothing, but I just keep hearing you talking to someone."

That's when it was your turn to freeze like a deer in headlights.

The thin walls. The singing this morning. Was it all so that he could make fun of you talking to yourself?!

"Excuse you? Just so you know, I still have more decorations that are much better than your corny wallpaper here. You aren't a gift, boy."

He simply chuckles but then gives you such a blinding smile. You hadn't paid attention to his face yesterday but with the shirt on today, it was a little easier to observe this competitive neighbour. And his smile, wow. "I'll be looking forward to seeing those."

Then you close the door and completely forgot about taking out the trash. Not the way this happens each time because of how much he infuriates you! But now it was too late to go out there because you'd be forced to run into him again, so you decided to wait until after he was done his door.

***

The video call comes at a good time as you'd finished a couple of Christmas movies and your fancy homecooked dinner of mac and cheese. It's not unexpected as your best friend and roommate, Rose, probably has some updates for you after her wild family gatherings.

"Hey, girl! How's it going?" You pick up on the first ring. You were surprisingly glad for the human interaction after being alone for nearly a week, but you suspect that her main motive for calling was to sneak away from her family holiday party.

"Wow, look at you all dressed up in festive pajamas!" She squeals. "They're so cute!"

"Thanks girl! Gotta be festive around here." Maybe you'd be embarrassed if it were anyone else on that video call, especially if they were all dressed up like Rose today, but she's been your best friend since middle school and you've all seen each other in plenty of embarrassing outfits on the daily. "How's your holiday going?"

"It's been good but pretty tiring. You would not believe the amount of drama my cousin has been trying to start." Rose breaks out into a chuckle. "But how have you been surviving there all alone without us?"

"Christmas movie marathons and cookies all day! It's been so nice to finally get a break from school and people, you know? Oh, except there's this annoying neighbour still here who keeps trying to compete with me for best decorated door or something." You roll your eyes. "Can you believe it? Who would do such a thing?"

"Oh, he's still doing that?"

"Yeah, unfortunately? I keep running into him too, like every time I step out—wait. You know him?"

She stares at you for just a second too long before responding. "W-what do you mean?"

"You asked if he's still here, but I hadn't even mentioned this neighbour's gender or anything yet."

"Oh nah," she brushes it off, "I didn't mean anyone specific but... Y/N?"

"Yes?"

Her voice drops down to a whisper as she leans in towards the camera. "Are you talking about Jaehyun?"

"Jaehyun?"

"You know, the one who looks like he should be walking the runway even in sweats and a tee."

You don't say anything but shoot her a questioning look.

"Oh come on. Broad shoulders, toned arms, probably has abs. Dimples and a nice face to top it off?"

"His name is Jaehyun?" you say lamely. "Wow, I was expecting something cooler. Like even Jay or something."

"So he is who you were talking about? Isn't he so hot?"

"Well," you hesitate. You would never admit that you actually saw the abs that she was imagining. Or that he does indeed belong at a photoshoot way more than he does in front of his door hanging ornaments. "He's okay I guess?"

"Just okay?"

You nod slowly. "Why? Don't tell me you... like him or something."

"What? No, Y/N, of course not! He's in my bio tutorial and we happened to bump into each other while walking back to the dorm one day, but that's it. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay, sure?" you say, unconvinced.

"Seriously! He's interested in someone else, okay?"

"You guys are close enough for him to tell you that?"

"I—" Rose stops and turns around to look behind her. "Shoot, my cousin found me. Sorry Y/N, I gotta go! Bye—"

Then the call ends. Even though you definitely did not see her cousin in the background.

It was nice to talk to your best friend again, but that conversation leaves you feeling strange. You're confused as to why she would word vomit about how hot Jaehyun was, then immediately try to convince you that she didn't like him in that way. You've all had crushes throughout the years and told each other eagerly about them, so why was she adamantly denying this one? If this had been a conversation in person, you'd probably be able to tell whether she was telling the truth or not based on the appearance or absence of stars in her eyes, but it was difficult to tell since it was a low quality video call after all. Maybe you'll grill her about it once she gets back.

That wasn't all though. There was a feeling you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it wasn't positive. Maybe you were slightly bothered by the fact that Rose hadn't told you about this crush? Or maybe you were feeling left out because she somehow knew this rival neighbour really well while you were left in the dark, trying to figure out who kept copying your Christmas decorations. That's probably it—you were disappointed that Rose hadn't told you that she knew the culprit all along!

Then another thought hits you when you're least expecting it. He's single. It's something that never even crossed your mind since you just started assuming that hot people at this age were all off the market and you'd die all alone. Not that him being single has anything to do with you not dying alone, but maybe Rose has a chance now if she really liked him. Nah, she's too good for a cutthroat Christmas decorator like him.

After washing your stack of dirty dishes in the sink, you finally take out the trash but not before checking for enemies through the peephole. Luckily enough, shirtless neighbour, Jaehyun, was not there. Unfortunately enough, his door actually looked quite nice with the wrapping paper on it. He chose one on the simpler side so that it wouldn't clash with the ornaments but it matched with the lights on the doorframe so well that it made you feel warm and fuzzy inside for just a second until you remembered whose door this was.

And then you remembered the bluff you so confidently stated earlier today.

So now you find yourself staring at the storage box at the top shelf of your closet because of that bluff you'd made so confidently earlier. The reality was that you weren't sure if you even had anything useful in this storage box but had to check for the sake of that bluff. You refused to lose to him at decorating, but even more than that, you refused to admit that he was right. So up the step ladder you went, standing so carefully as to not tip over and fall while dragging down everything with you. The top shelf was still quite high despite your height boost and tiptoes were still needed to reach the big cardboard box. You hoped that it was at least light but don't quite remember what you'd packed in there, so you grabbed it by the two sides and began slowly shifting it towards the edge of the shelf.

The last thing you register was hearing your own voice. Screaming very loudly.

Adrenaline coursing, blood roaring, heart pounding. You don't feel the impact as you hit the carpeted floor, nor the step ladder and the storage box and all the other items in your closet tumbling after you. It becomes a big mess on the floor of your room, looking like the closet vomited out half its contents. Unfortunately, most of it was on top of you so the clothing did nothing to cushion your fall. You would probably be feeling the ache tomorrow but for now, there was something even worse to deal with.

"Are you okay?" a voice suddenly asks. You nearly scream again. "What's going on?"

"I—um." The state of shock was still affecting your mind, so you simply decided to point up for your not-shirtless neighbour to see. "Spider."

And there it was, all of its eight legs attached to your wall right beside the box you were getting. You could've touched it! Your hand totally could've brushed it! The thought of it makes you squeeze your eyes shut and suppress a shiver.

"Wow, a big one," he says as he looks around and finally decides on some random tissue you had lying on your desk. He kills it in one swift motion, making sure not to leave any of its... bodily remains on your wall. Then he goes to dispose of it as you sit there wondering if this was all a dream and that someone actually dealt with your spider problem and made it look so easy.

Despite the rivalry between the two of you, at that moment, there was nothing more attractive than a guy who could kill bugs for you. The abs were just a bonus.

"All gone; nothing to worry about now." Jaehyun reaches out a hand. "But are you okay? That sounded like quite the fall."

"Yeah, just fine." You gingerly take his hand as your head is still spinning and he pulls you out of the giant pile. You're thankful for his firm grip but what you notice instead is how soft and big his hand is.

He catches you when you stumble. "Careful," he puts his arm around you and guides you to the bed. "Wait, you're bleeding."

"What?"

"Stay right here. I'll go get a first aid kit."

You sigh as he leaves, suddenly feeling exhausted and actually glad to be taken care of for once. The thought of Christmas decorations leaves your mind and is replaced by the feeling of his arm around you, the faint smell of his body wash, how he reached the spider so easily without even stretching too far and certainly without using the step stool. And now he's getting a first aid kit for you? This definitely must be a dream.

"You didn't hit your head, right?"

Oh. Right. That was probably why your thoughts are all strange.

Jaehyun settles into the chair opposite you, alcohol wipe and cotton swab in hand. "This cut must've been from the corner of the box. Might sting a bit."

You hardly paid attention to anything he just said because suddenly there's the way he leans towards you so, so closely. The rest of the world starts to blur into the background as you feel his hand gently brush your skin, the worry and care in his eyes so genuine. Any feelings of self consciousness seem to melt away, the close distance between you not uncomfortable but rather perfect for slowly leaning in and—

"Ow!" you hear in your own voice again. He'd started cleaning the area on your left cheek with the alcohol wipe and it was the sting that seemed to jolt you from the strange thoughts.

Maybe you really did hit your head because what was all that?

"Sorry," he flashes a smile and has the audacity to laugh at your pain. "Need to make sure this won't get infected."

"You brought this first aid kit from your place?" you ask dully.

"Well, didn't know where you keep yours so..." He opens a tube of ointment and squeezes it carefully onto the cotton swab.

"Wait, how did you even get here in the first place? No, why did you come here?"

The smile on his face only grows. "Your door was unlocked, obviously. And I heard you scream followed by several loud thuds. Is that good enough?"

"Yeah, but why did you come here? I would've been just fine."

"I had to make sure that my lovely neighbour wasn't dead, alright? Otherwise who's going to continue our little holiday contest and lose?"

"Okay, first of all, you would lose. Second, you should've left me for dead," you grumble. "No one wants to participate in your stupid contest."

"Oh, come on. I thought you were enjoying it since you promised to show me all the decorations you still have." He opens a bandage and places it ever so gently on your cheek. "All done."

"I could've done that myself you know."

At that, he raises an eyebrow at you, grin still plastered on his face. "You really would've killed that spider that caused all of this?"

"How dare you—I might've? But you caused all of this actually. If it weren't for that dumb competition then why would I be up in my closet looking for that box of stuff?"

It was true enough. You wouldn't have looked for this box and you wouldn't have seen that spider. And he would absolutely not be here dealing with you battle scars.

"Oh." Surprisingly enough, that smile he had on disappears and he actually looks kind of guilty. "I'm sorry."

"Right."

"No, really. I feel bad that this happened because of something so silly. Let me make it up to you; no more competitions, no more decorations."

You almost heave a sigh in relief after hearing those words. It was like a dream come true as you've wanted nothing more than to have this decoration obligation off your back, though not if it was because he assumed you were going to lose.

So you're still suspicious.

"And how exactly are you going to do that?"

"Hmm. Let me treat you to a meal?"

You look him up and down. "I'd rather stay in."

"We can stay in and get takeout or delivery?"

"I'd rather eat alone."

"Oh come on." He has the audacity to pout at you now. "What's the point of spending the holidays alone?"

"Well, actually I've been having a lot of fun on my own."

"But doesn't it get... lonely?"

Maybe. You shake your head. "Not really."

He heaves a dramatic sigh. "How about just one night? And if you really hate it that much then I won't bother you again."

You sigh too, equally as dramatic. "Fine. But only because I'll get to beat you at whatever games you have planned."

"I'd love to see that." The grin is back on his face in full force, dimples and eyes both seeming to twinkle.

"But why do you even want to spend time with me?"

"Well, we're the only two people on campus and we happen to be neighbours?"

You stifle your laugh at his goofy expression. "Okay, fine. Please don't make it weird though."

"Weird how?"

"You know, those apocalyptic stories about the last two people on earth having to do you-know-what in order to survive and procreate and all that."

If he had a drink in his mouth, you're sure it'd be sputtering out by the way he half laughs and half chokes.

"Um, no. I have not heard of anything like that, but I think we can confirm that I'm not the one making it weird right now."

"Hey, you were the one rude enough to go walking around shirtless!"

"I'm just kidding." He smiles that dazzling dimpled smile again. "No competitions, no decorations, and no weirdness. Deal?"

You purse your lips. "Deal, but also, shirts are a must. And pants. Don't you dare pull anything funny."

"Deal. Oh, but before I forget," he pulls out his phone and unlocks it. "I hope this isn't considered part of the weirdness."

"Hmm." It's the 'add new contact' page on his phone that he hands you, of course. "I'll let you off the hook just this once."

You add your name and number as well as a description of 'your amazing neighbour who's better at decorating' before handing it back to him.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm—"

"Jaehyun."

"You remem—you know my name?" His eyes widen, an eyebrow raised.

You shrug. "Yeah, Rose gave me your name."

"Rose talked to you about me?" Eyes flicker briefly and the corners of lips settle into a sort of frown. "What else did she say?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because—why were you guys even talking about me?"

"She literally called to say that there is absolutely nothing going on between you guys." You roll your eyes at just remembering that strange conversation. "But in any case, I'll have you know that I think she's way too good for you."

"And I'll have you know that there's absolutely nothing going on between her and me," Jaehyun crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed. Yet at the same time he somehow looked relieved, body slack against the wall and not tense like a moment ago.

"Whatever you say," you shrug. "Oh, but she did mention there's someone you're interested in."

"What?!"

You definitely save his name in your phone as 'stupid shirtless decorating neighbour'.

***

The next few days consisted of some simple exchanges through text. The hangout was planned for Christmas Eve which was still a few days away, and as much as you didn't exactly want to be talking to him, you find your gaze wandering to your phone whenever it lights up with his name flashing across the screen.

Yes, it was just a hangout, not a date. You'd be staying in, acting casual, and there would be no weirdness involved as the two of you had agreed. Besides, you didn't even like him. At this point you could only bring yourself to admit that he was quite attractive and that your annoyance with him might've died just a little when you watched him save you from the spider and treat your wound. But now there was a new annoyance stemming from how rudely this guy was showing off all of his perfection (all six feet of it!) right in your face. Who does he think is he? You just know that you're lucky he isn't in any of your classes because this competition might've started way earlier with test grades or whatnot.

The point was that you couldn't wrap your head around why he would suddenly want to hang out with you. Based on his previous actions, it was to probably beat you in various video games or in something that should not even be a competition.

You decide to video call Rose to ask her for advice on how to better prepare you for this war.

"Did I interrupt?" is the first thing you say when Rose's face comes on the screen. She seems to be at the table in the middle of a meal, but it didn't look like a restaurant nor did you recognize it as anywhere in her house. "I can call back later."

"Nah, it's fine! How are things going on your side?"

Before you could answer, you see a guy walk into the frame. And recognize him immediately. You lower your voice, "Are you with our TA?"

"Um..." She only shrugs at you but you could see her flashing a smile at the guy who walks out of the frame. Who you're sure is the TA of your psychology class.

"Rose, are you on a date with our TA?" you whisper.

"Sorry, I'll be right back," she says to him, before the background changes and you could see her walking to a different room. "Okay, yes, you caught me."

"How long has this been going on for?"

"Not long at all! It's a long story though and I'll tell you in person first thing when I get back. But hey, didn't I tell you that there was nothing going on between me and Jaehyun?"

"That's the first thing you decide to bring up?"

"Well, I just wanted to make sure you knew." She rolls her eyes. "Anyways, how are things going over there?"

You sigh deeply, ready to launch into the drama that is your life. "I may or may not have a hangout with him in a couple of days."

"What?!" she shrieks, making you nearly throw your phone. Her loud voice also invokes an 'are you okay?' from your TA, which you still could not wrap your head around. "Wow, that was quick."

"Calm down, girl, it's just a hangout. And yes, it's way too quick because I don't even know him? Don't know why he would want to hang out but I'm guessing it's probably to turn everything in a competition."

"Just because of that thing with the door decor?" She laughs. "I think you're reading too much into it. Just enjoy the holidays with some company! Besides, how do you know he doesn't want this to be a date?"

"Well, we agreed that there would be nothing weird, and also, doesn't he like someone already? So it'll just be chill and casual."

"Where are you guys going for this?"

"Literally nowhere," you stifle a laugh at the thought, "just his place right across the hall."

She snorts, "Oh man, good luck to him cleaning that up."

"Why, is it like super messy or something?" You wouldn't be surprised as it's a boys' dorm after all.

"Y/N, it's a next level mess in there, and nothing sparks joy. Trust me, Marie Kondo would definitely lose her mind seeing that mess of a place."

"You've been over to his place?"

"For a bio project! You'd think he could've picked the library or something but no, I had to trip over multiple piles of clothes lying around." She rolls her eyes, a smile on her face. "Sorry, I shouldn't be talking to you about all this. Don't worry! It'll be fun."

"I sure hope so?" You raise an eyebrow at her.

"Well if you really want to keep up with this contest of yours, I have an idea. I mean, only if you want to get back at him for the decorating thing or whatever stunt he pulls. Just in case."

"Um. I'm listening."

She leans closer to the camera, looking ready to spill some big secret. "You guys should make it a formal event. Get all dolled up—don't give me that look; I know you've missed dressing up since before finals. Anyways, get your fancy dress and makeup on and see who can clean up better. I know you've got some skills, so this is something you'd definitely win."

"But we're not even going out," you whine, "it's literally going to be twenty feet away."

"It's just an excuse to dress up, Y/N. Besides, if it's at his place you won't be freezing in your dress."

"I don't know—I feel like this kind of violates our 'nothing weird' rule."

She shrugs, "Well, it's only a competition if you're winning." Then she flashes you one of her hundred-watt smiles. "Just ask him. Okay, I gotta go. Talk to you soon?"

"Yeah, sure."

***

Jaehyun agrees to it, to your surprise.

You're not sure what kind of reaction he had as it was all done through text, but he didn't ask anything and just went along with it.

When Christmas Eve finally comes around, you pick out the most glamorous dress in your closet with some pieces of jewelry to match with it. The silvery material shimmers and glitters, bouncing light in so many directions it seems to make you radiate a type of confidence you could only wish you had. It was something you've never even worn before because of how revealing it was, but you'd brought to college with you in case of special events. And well, even though this was definitely not a special event, it still turned out to be a good decision because maybe you'd be able to beat him at his own game of so rudely showing off.

But the moment you knock on his still gift-wrapped door is when you knew that these contests never go very well for you.

"What. Is. All. This." were the first words out of your mouth as you stood there in shock. In fear. In awe.

"Hmm? You said you wanted it to be a fancy event, so I just made it fancy...?"

"I—"

You had no words for this.

The lighting was dimmed with only the flickering candles on a tabletop and fairy lights swirling right above it creating a soft glow in the room. There was a beautiful red tablecloth with expensive looking plates ready to be served with whatever food was behind the delicious smell remaining in the air. A bottle of red wine and empty wine glasses. His apartment was spotless and not at all what you imagined it to look like, especially after Rose's spiel the other day about how messy it was. You don't doubt he spent a lot of time and effort to clean the place and set all this up, but this was way beyond anything your imagination could've thought of.

And lastly, there was him. If you'd just expected him to simply have a shirt on, he definitely went above and beyond the low expectations you had. Here he was standing in a white dress shirt tucked into black dress pants. Sleeves rolled up. Hair gelled up and slicked back. There was no ounce of imperfection in him or in this entire set up, and suddenly the outfit you picked out seems so insignificant. You could already taste the disappointment of losing a battle you'd had all intentions of winning.

Another thing that worried you was that this didn't look like the setting for a hangout. This looked like the type of place rich people eat at, where proposals happen, where anniversaries are celebrated, where you might even run into a celebrity. You definitely shouldn't have listened to Rose's advice because now it just seems like you played yourself.

"Do you not like it?"

"No, it's fine but Jaehyun, it's just—a little weird."

"A little weird? Yeah, I thought so too." He looks down, leaning against the wall as if unsure where he was supposed to go, what he was supposed to do. Not that far from your own situation.

"I shouldn't have asked for this fancy hangout," you say under your breath, then quickly change the subject before things continued down this slippery slope of awkwardness. "Anyways, I don't see a tree in here. What happened, Mr. I-have-better-decorations-than-you?"

"No tree this year, but I do have a gingerbread kit?"

"And what, were you going to put that on your door too?" You roll your eyes at him. "Let's put it together it right now."

"It was definitely an option but you're the one who wanted the fancy date." He shrugs at you innocently.

"I just wanted a chance to dress up, okay? You can't possibly comment on this," you gesture at the dress, "the way you made fun of my sweaters."

There's no expression on his face as he gives you a glance over then quickly looks away. "You look...good."

"Thanks, I know." You do a hair flip in his face just for emphasis. "Okay, let's get to it! And would you turn some lights on already?"

It turns out, decorating a gingerbread house became a lot like decorating the door to your apartment. Unintentionally. It's not like you were highly competitive by nature, but there's something about his calm demeanour, his laidback gaze, and the way his lips curl at the corners that irks you because you wanted to break down those walls and see something real. Who does he think he is, looking and acting so perfect on your supposedly casual hangout?

Besides, it wasn't your idea to see whose side of the gingerbread house looks better.

"We must look so silly doing this," you comment. "Two people all dressed up in fancy clothes just to build a gingerbread house."

"It's totally part of today's itinerary of fancy activities. Just look at how fancy my side is?" He turns the tray so you could see it. "It's looking like a mansion over here."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him but you'd expected nothing less. "Then I guess it would suck if someone decided to ruin it."

Holding his gaze as if a challenge, you take the tube of pink icing in your hand and squeeze it generously all over his side of the gingerbread house. It was like a thick coat of fluffy pink clouds on the roof, in the yard, and all over the windows.

His jaw drops. "You. Did. Not."

"I think I did," you tease, the biggest smile you've worn in days on your lips from just getting a reaction out of him. "And I'll do this too." He definitely does not expect it when the huge blob of the pink icing on your finger gets dabbed onto his cheek.

"You're not getting away with this, Y/N." That's the last thing Jaehyun says before he starts chasing you down with a tube of blue icing in his hands.

Then it becomes a game of running around the apartment in circles, occasionally getting close enough to place another wad of icing on him but also for him to cover you with it. Until you decide to grab the icing sugar and use that as your next weapon.

The first pinch of it lands on his face and coats it like a foundation far too light. The image of him— stopped in his tracks, lips pursed and trying to blow the sugar off, blinking with disbelief—was enough to supply you a year of happiness so that's when you let your guard down and pause to wholeheartedly laugh at him. But that's also when the icing sugar came flying at you.

In the end, both of your fancy clothes and tidied hair ended up being coated with icing sugar, as well as the apartment he'd put so much effort into cleaning. And you didn't mind at all for it worked in giving you a glimpse of someone real behind the mask of perfection that he had been wearing in the few times you'd seen him so far. Someone who isn't just abs and a pretty face, nor just competitions and winning.

Basically, someone you could like.

Dinner passes by in a breeze with delicious foods and surprisingly easy conversation. Maybe it should've felt like an awkward first date with how little you knew about each other and how you've barely seen each other before this point, but it wasn't like that at all. It was hard to define because it wasn't quite like talking to an acquaintance, yet friendship would be too tight of a term to describe this relationship. He felt familiar, like an old friend that you knew you could share everything with despite knowing him no better then a stranger. But perhaps that was from the amount of wine you both drank; while it wasn't your drink of choice, it was definitely helpful in facilitating a lot of laughter as you kept breaking out in giggles and he definitely couldn't keep a straight face.

Time was slowing as the two of you collapsed on the couch afterwards, satisfied from a hearty meal. You found yourself suddenly dreading the inevitable end to your time here, though the warmth of the wine pushes that thought away.

"If we were outside, that would've totally been a snowball fight," you mention, looking out the window where fluffy snowflakes started to float through the air. It seemed like a Christmas miracle for it to be snowing so unexpectedly but maybe this year will give you a beautiful white Christmas.

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles so brightly even with the dim lighting of the room. "Then we could've also been making snow angels or a fort."

"Sorry for dirtying your floor though." You couldn't help but giggle. "It was so clean before all this."

"Don't worry, this isn't even as bad is it usually is," he confesses with a laugh.

"Yeah, Rose told me all about that."

"She did? Oh I'm so going to kill her."

The two of you burst out laughing at that, leaning over in a way that has your hand lightly brushing against his.

"It's not all terrible though. It almost looks like it snowed in here too," you say, admiring the sprinkles of icing sugar scattered all across the floor that looks nothing like actual snow, but it's nice to think of it that way. "Icing sugar everywhere."

Everything you look at seems to glow and sparkle with the heat of the wine still swirling through your body, heart racing, cheeks hot, the world spinning just slightly. And it's not like you were completely drunk, but instead it felt more like you were drunk on life with small, happy thoughts bubbling through your veins—how cozy this place was, how it's the holidays, how you actually enjoyed spending time with Jaehyun and how things turned out much better than you could've possibly imagined. It was nothing like the image of competitive gaming with the frat boys that Rose had put in your mind; this was the most romantic thing that anyone's ever done for you even if it wasn't intending to be more than a casual hangout.

Then there was how attractive Jaehyun looked as he's seated right beside you, hair dishevelled from earlier, a faint pink dusting his face, shirt unbuttoned just low enough to expose the top of his chest. Icing sugar at the corner of his lips where a faint smile rests.

When you look back up, his eyes meet yours and you have to urge to quickly look away, cheeks blazing from knowing you'd been caught staring a moment too long. But instead, a sudden stroke of courage compels you to hold his gaze, perhaps to see a reaction, perhaps as a question silently lingering in the room for much of the night.

"Mhm, it's beautiful," he says softly, still not moving his gaze from where it rests on you. "You still have some right here," he says softly, leaning in slightly as his hand brushes across your heated cheeks. Everything seems to happen in slow motion when he reaches your bottom lip, thumb grazing gently.

And suddenly it was like a repeat of what happened just days earlier. When he meets your eyes again this time, his dark pupils are twinkling in an answer to your question, luring you into their gravity until you're sinking, eyes closing, slowly getting lost in him.

Sparks fly at the slightest brush of his lips on yours and that's enough to abruptly drag you out of the moment you were swept into.

"Wait, Jaehyun—we agreed not to make things weird."

As much as you wanted to just kiss him right then and there, there was still some part of your mind that was telling you to stay away from this slippery slope. That things will be different after the rose-coloured lenses of alcohol and lust fade, that the weird that you both had tried so hard to avoid would end up happening and ending badly.

"Um, right. Sorry." He looks away, refusing to meet your eyes as his cheeks redden, unrelated from the wine. "Y/N... it's just that I've liked you for so long."

Out of all the things you thought he would say, this was nowhere near any of it. His words catch you totally off guard and seem to immediately sober you up.

"What? What do you mean?"

He sighs softly, a hand running through his hair and a hand on yours, tentatively.

"I'm not sure if you remember but we went to the same middle school." Jaehyun pauses, his eyes searching yours for a reaction but you don't dare breathe, waiting for him to continue. "I know this was so long ago and it shouldn't even matter anymore but middle school wasn't really a good time for me."

You take his hand in yours, encouraging him to go on.

"Kids could be so cruel back then, you know?" He smiles sadly. "But you were the only person who showed me such kindness. I could never forget that, Y/N."

"Middle school?"

He confirms with a small nod and that's when you think back. Middle school wasn't a good time for you either and it probably wasn't for anyone, but nothing in particular stood out in your mind. You had a small group of friends back then and got good grades. You were in the school's band and might've been teacher's pet one year. There wasn't exactly anyone bullying you, but there was one girl who was mean and made up rumours about you and some guy you didn't even know. That guy turned out to be really nice though, and the two of you ended up as good friends as a result of that rumour. But all that ended when his family moved right before high school and you never saw him or contacted him again.

"Sorry, I don't really recall. Were you in my class? There really weren't any boys in my life back then, like the only guy that I can recall is Hyunnie." You smile just thinking about the memories. "He was a good guy. Not sure what happened to him but I kind of liked him."

Jaehyun says nothing but you could see a hint of a smile that he was trying to hold back.

"What, you also know Hyunnie?"

He still remains silent, this time shrugging his shoulders the tiniest bit as he bites his lips.

"Then? Wait—" You gasp when it hits you. "Wait. We all called him Hyunnie but... Hyunnie. Jaehyun. That's—no," you shake your head, "there's no way. That's impossible."

"Y/N," he weaves his fingers with yours.

"You're joking." You stare at him to try to put the pieces together. The Hyunnie you remembered was a small, chubby boy with glasses so big they seem to cover his whole face while his bangs would cover the rest of it as if seeming to hide him from the world. Maybe initially you just wanted to support him as the rumours tied the two of your together, but after getting to know him better you realized he was very kind and genuine. And that's when your admiration for him started.

"Remember the secret code names we had? And the glow in the dark watch? And our mad minute competitions?"

"You're Hyunnie," you breathe, still shocked.

"Yeah," he whispers.

"But—why didn't you say anything at the time?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't feel the same," he looks away, not meeting your eyes. "I thought moving away would help me get rid of my feelings...but it didn't work."

"Why were you so sure about that? Why wouldn't I feel the same?"

"Is it not obvious? I—wasn't exactly someone you would be proud to be with. You were so sweet and popular and gorgeous. You had so many people wanting to be with you, and I—I was nothing.

"Don't say that! I was so happy that you were one of my closest friends." You pause. "Also, how could you be so wrong?" You roll your eyes at him, at all the silly things that once felt like the end of the world but are now so trivial when looking back.

"Was I wrong?"

"Yes! I liked you too, okay? I don't care what you look like. Jaehyun, you don't know how hard it was for me after you left without a trace."

"I'm sorry. I can only promise you that it will never happen again." Then he pouts. "Also, I worked so hard for these abs just to hear you say you don't care what I look like. Wow, I'm hurt."

That makes you burst out laughing. "They're definitely nice, but you are worth so much more than what you look like. And don't think that I wouldn't like you for who you are."

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning in just a little closer.

"Okay."

"Never think that you're not good enough."

A hand cupping your cheek, tracing your jaw. Even closer.

"Okay."

"And don't ever leave me like that again."

His lips hesitate just for a moment.

"Okay."

Then they're crashing on yours, the electricity between you crackling so loud it blocks out the rest of the world as your mind is only filled with Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun. His lips are sweet like the cotton candy you had back in seventh grade, lingering on your teeth at the amusement park, turning his tongue bright blue. His touch is gentle, ebbs and flows like the ocean during the eighth grade beach trip, water gently lapping at your feet, sand between your toes and between entangled fingers. His scent surrounds you like a warm hug on a cold day, like a hoodie too big to fit your shoulders while sitting outside of the school after the dance. All the memories flooding back make your mind spin; the things you've forgotten, the ones you've buried, and the fragments that he'd taken when he left, now brought back to their rightful place.

As the clock struck twelve, there were only whispered words of Merry Christmas in between lingering kisses, racing hearts, brushes of bare skin.

It wasn't weird like you were afraid tonight would go. What you once thought to be awkward and strange turned out to be so right, so perfect. Sure, it might hurt to know that there was all this lost time between you, but now you could make up for that by spending the rest of it getting to know each other again. Learning and relearning each other until there was only a seamless connection between the past and the present, an invisible red string tying the two of you together.

And maybe you did lose all these competitions to him but they never really mattered to you anyways especially when you gained back an old friend, a first love, a soulmate.

#jaehyun fic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct fluff #nct fic #nct x you #nct x reader #jaehyun au #guys i haven't written a fic in like 2-3 years #if no one reads it then it'll be 10k of practice at best LOL #me living out my holiday fantasies ok #idek how to tag or write A/N anymore #it's been tooooooo long #my fic

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years

Text

Chapter One: Lonely Together

Jack Kline x OC

Rated: PG

~I might hate myself tomorrow

But I'm on my way tonight

Let's be lonely together

A little less lonely together~

Sent: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

I smiled down at my phone before clicking it off and slipping it into my pocket. I didn't know who I had sent the message to. It was just a number I had punched in at random. I didn't expect anyone to reply.

Wrapping my dark green cardigan tighter around my body, I pulled my knees in closer to my chest and pressed myself closer against the wall of the bakery. The wall was only slightly warmer than the frigid air around me. It was December 2nd and icy gales were blowing in from Lake Superior and stinging the skin of the city's occupants.

The sky hung dark, low, and flat over Copper Harbor, Michigan. Copper Harbor was an itty-bitty town at the northern most tip of the northernmost part of Michigan. You know that piece of land that's only connected to the mainland by a highway, that in-between place that really should be Canada, but isn't? That's where Copper Harbor is and that's where I was.

Copper Harbor was the sort of town where newcomers and visitors are as common as flying pigs and are treated with about as much scrutiny. It's not one of those small, friendly towns just off the highway; the ones that are pleasant to find yourself in if you've taken a wrong turn. It's quite the feat to get lost and turn up in Copper Harbor, considering its miles away from anything and everything remotely interesting, unless you're searching for Bigfoot or a drunk Canadian that took a wrong turn. Though those two things might just end up being one and the same. No, nobody came to Copper Harbor unless they had a reason. That's just the sort of place it was. And aside from the mind-numbing cold, it was exactly the sort of place I wanted to be.

The clouds were so heavy with the snow that now drifted down, dusting everything in a layer of fine white powder, it seemed that someone standing on even the lowest rooftop could reach up and touch them. The snowflakes raining down from those clouds gave the appearance of tiny shooting stars. Many would have found the sight beautiful. I didn't. I just found it cold and somewhat depressing. Some people say that shooting stars are angels, falling to the earth to bless the lives of people in need. I've never liked those sorts of stories. The stars belong in the heavens. The dust belongs on the earth. Collecting in puddles, the sparkling, sugar-like ice crystals did nothing to ease the bitter cold. I shivered and coughed, my breath fogging in front of me.

I should have frozen to death hours ago.

But I can't die. At least, not that way.

Suffering, on the other hand, I can do that to no end.

I put my head between my knees, hoping to retain what little heat my walking corpse had to offer. I struggled to remain conscious. The story of the little-match-girl was playing in my head. I'd never liked that story's ending. Hallucinations really weren't my thing, especially hallucinations about things I tried not to think about, the things I tried to burry in the farthest corners of my mind. I had to distract myself, to think about anything that would keep me awake. The problem was, there was nothing to distract me.

Pling!

My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text. I grasped it quickly, greedy for a distraction, but I paused upon seeing the number displayed upon the screen. It was that number I had texted the Merry Christmas message to. Whoever it was had texted me back. I unlocked my phone and peered at the mystery person's message.

Received: 11:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

The message read. I smiled a little, surprised that anyone would care to return my quiet Christmas wish. The screen of my phone lit up with another message.

Received: 11:19 PM

Who are you?

The question was a simple one. Though tone can often be difficult to infer over written text, the question seemed to bear no hostility, only innocent curiosity. I thought for a bit about what to say, the answer was not as simple as the question had implied.

***

Located quite literally one thousand miles away from Copper Harbor, was the small, out-of-the-way town of Lebanon, Kansas. Now, in the outskirts Lebanon there was a hill. The hill was modestly sized and carpeted with thick grass painted with a layer of frost. Although it was a rather pleasant sight for some stray hiker to find, the hill was really quite unremarkable. That is, if you ignored the hulking steel door built into the side of it that looked like the entrance to a post-apocalyptic hobbit hole. See, built under that hill there was a bunker. It looked like any ordinary bunker if one can ever describe a bunker as ordinary. But inside this ordinary looking bunker, sat something rather extraordinary and his name was Jack.

Jack Kline was quite happy where he was. Sitting with his legs crossed on a chair beside the bunker's fireplace, Jack held Sam's beloved lap-top between his knees. Sam let him borrow it on the nights he couldn't sleep. Those nights were many. Sleepless nights were one of the many side effects of being half-angel, but he didn't really mind. Jack wasn't overly fond of sleep, not like Sam or Dean who adored the few hours they got. Jack would much rather be awake because if he was asleep then he couldn't observe. He liked to observe. He loved learning. He loved taking in anything and everything going on around him, soaking it all up like a sponge with legs. He especially loved to soak up a story. Epic ones with heroes that defeat powerful villains. Jack loved stories.

So, no; Jack Kline was not overly fond of sleep. No, Jack preferred to just sit quietly and watch those epic stories as they played out in front of him on the screen of Sam's lap-top.

Currently, he was watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars. The computer had said he would like it, and the computer had been right. He had just finished season 2 and had begun on season 3. Some small voice in the back of his mind told him he should slow down and draw the series out a little longer, but Jack just couldn't find the will to do so. This story was just too good to stop. Jack shoved a hand full of popcorn in his mouth as he pressed the play button on the next episode. He had managed to sneak several bags of popcorn from the kitchen and into the secret stash in his room a few nights earlier. It was perfect, except popcorn needed to be popped and popping the kernels without attracting notice was a bit of a challenge. But he found that if he popped them during the day, when everyone was clamoring about and busy with whatever, the noise from the popping kernels wouldn't peak any suspicion. The only downside to his strategy was that it left him with cold popcorn. Though this too could be remedied via his angel powers, if he was careful about it, he could warm up the popcorn undetected.

Now, don't get the impression that Jack was being starved, or held in this bunker against his will, or something awful like that. As was mentioned before, Jack was very happy there. The Winchesters, Sam and Dean, and the angel Castiel, lived there with him and took care of him. They were his family and Jack loved them. The only reason he had a secret stash at all was because Sam was the only one in the bunker who cared about the importance of having a somewhat healthy diet. Whereas Dean let the boy eat pretty much anything he wanted and Cas- well in Cas's mind food was food and that's all there was to it. But Sam didn't like it when he caught Jack eating what he referred to as 'junk food'.

Somehow, Sam always caught him.

"That stuff’ll rot your teeth, Jack!" He'd sigh, as he'd flip on the kitchen light and catch Jack eating cereal sometime around midnight. Then he'd look at Jack with a disappointed look on his face until Jack threw the cereal away and went back to bed. Jack hated it when Sam looked at him like that, he just couldn't bear to let the Winchesters down.

But Jack loved to eat. Eating was enjoyable as it brought with it something new every time. Yet more things to absorb and to experience. Although the younger Winchester disapproved of the more sugary foods; Jack liked those a whole lot more than the salads Sam tried to get him to eat. Jack didn't like the salads or 'Rabbit Food' as Dean called it. No, Jack liked popcorn a quite a bit more.

He smiled as he brought another handful into his mouth. Yes, Jack Kline quite enjoyed eating.

Plip! Ploop!

Jack's head swiveled away from the screen to stare at the phone laying face-up on the arm rest of the chair in which he sat. The screen was alight with a text message. He picked up the phone and unlocked it. The message read:

Received: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

That was all. Jack was quite confused; he didn't know that number. Who had sent the text? What should he do? Should he say something back?

Curiosity and caution struggled in a match tug-of-war in his head. He wanted to know who the message had come from. He wanted to know why that person had sent it. He also wanted to know why he had a strange feeling that whoever had sent the message was horribly sad. But would the Winchesters be mad at him if he answered? Sam and Dean had given him the phone just a few days earlier.

"For emergencies," Sam had said as he laid the device in Jack's hand before resuming his packing. Jack had stared at it, rather confused as to its purpose. Castiel had been off somewhere doing something and Sam and Dean had been leaving for a hunt, leaving him alone which Dean was completely and utterly against.

"Only for emergencies," Dean had stressed, jabbing his finger in Jack's general direction as he inspected various articles of clothing before tossing them into a duffle bag. "That means don't text or call unless someone is breaking in or you're dying!"

Sam shot his older brother a warning look. Dean ignored it and pulled a pair of socks out of his dresser, sniffing them briefly before making a face and chucking them to the other side of the room. Jack looked back down at the small black rectangle in his palm.

"Okay so, only text or call in case there's an emergency. Got it." Jack clinched the thin black box between his thumb and forefinger, carefully lifting it up as if it might explode in his face. "But, one question, if something happens like-like you said, like somebody breaking in or me dying, how-how would I do that?" He asked, looking back at the two brothers. They both froze their hasty packing and pivoted to stare at him, their eyebrows raised with disbelieving question.

"What?" Dean asked the young Nephilim. Jack shrank away a little, not wanting to upset the older Winchester.

"How do I text or call you? I don't know how to do that," Jack had timidly replied. Dean just shook his head and returned to over-stuffing the duffle. Sam, however, was much more understanding.

"That's right, you-you don't, do you?" Sam asked, realizing his mistake. Jack turned his attention to the younger of the brothers, shaking his head in an answer to Sam's question.

"Unbelievable," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. Sam shot him another glare which Dean merely shrugged off.

"Well, come on then, I'll teach you," Sam had said. Jack watched as Sam set the contacts and explained how everything worked. He showed Jack how to send a text, how to dial and answer a call, and all the other things Jack would need to know. Jack just watched him and took note of every little thing. Watching and replicating was how Jack learned best.

"Now, if I don't answer my phone, you call Dean. But if he doesn't pick up, I want you to call me again, if I still don't answer a second time, I want you to call this number right here. That's Jody Mills, she's a friend of ours and she'll help you, alright? You get all that?" Sam finished explaining and looked for Jack to confirm his understanding. Jack nodded.

"I got it!" He said, enthusiastically. Sam gave the young boy a nervous smile.

"You do? Can you repeat it back to me?" Sam asked Jack the question the same way Sam and Dean's father had always asked them.

"If something happens, call you, and if you don't answer, call Dean. If Dean doesn't answer then I call you again, but if you still don't pick up, then call Jody Mills." Jack repeated all of Sam's instructions perfectly, grinning proudly at the younger Winchester when he finished. Sam laughed a little, but nerves twinged his voice.

"Good, yeah. Okay," Sam paused, thinking things over, "You know what, Jack? If neither of us answer your call and it's really that urgent, don't bother calling me a second time. Just call Jody right away if you can't get through to either of us. Alright?"

"Alright!" Jack nodded, grinning. Sam nodded back, stiffly.

"Alright." He seemed like he wanted to say something else but didn't know how to say it.

"You two done in there, Sammy?! We gotta go!" Dean called, walking in from another room. Sam stood and looked at his brother.

"Uh, yeah. I think we're good," He took a few steps towards the stairs that lead up to the door before pausing and turning back to Jack, "We're good, right? You're gonna be okay here by yourself?" Sam asked again. Jack grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

"I'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

Sam nodded and smiled with so much nervousness it almost hurt to watch.

"Okay, good. It's good. We're good," He said, nodding and trying to reassure himself more than anyone else. Dean raised an eyebrow at his overly anxious little brother, tugging his old leather jacket on over his shoulders, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he directed his remarks at Jack.

"Hey, kid. Whatever you do, don't do anything stupid," He'd said, half glaring, "We'll be back in a few days." Then they'd left.

Now, Jack glanced back down at the phone in his hands, remembering Dean's warning about not doing anything stupid. But his curiosity regarding the sender of the message was overwhelming. It couldn't hurt to text this person back, right? Was that what Dean had meant by his warning? Did this count as something stupid? What was the worst that could happen? Deciding that the benefits outweighed the risks, he texted back.

Sent: 10:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

Jack wrote.

Sent: 10:19 PM

Who are you?

No sooner had asked his question, he began to worry that he might have sounded rude. He waited with anticipation for the mystery person to reply. He didn't have to wait long.

Received: 10:20 PM

It doesn't matter, you don't know me.

I'm just someone wanting to give you a warm holiday wish.

Jack frowned. Again, he got the distinct feeling that the person on the other side of this conversation was deeply saddened by something. He desperately wanted to know what. So, he did the thing he did best. He asked and waited to see what would happen.

***

Received: 11:21 PM

If you don't know me, why do you care?

I don't mean to be rude. I'm just curious.

Why do this?

I read the person's question once, then twice, then three times and I realized that I didn't have an answer. Why did I care? Why was I texting some random person a Christmas wish? For all I knew, this person may not even observe the holiday. I had so many of my own things to worry about I was nearly drowning in them. I didn't know this person. I had nothing to do with them. So, why did I care about their holiday season? Why was I doing this?

I told myself it was just a random act of kindness. But deep down I knew what the reason was, and even if I didn't want to think about it, I felt it in my heart. I was doing this for the same reason I did everything. So, I took a few moments and came up with a reply.

Sent: 11:25 PM

I'm doing this because I believe that no one should ever have to be alone,

especially during the holidays.

I sent my reply and remembered to keep on shivering. I could hardly feel the cold anymore, I had gone almost completely numb. But I knew if I didn't keep moving, I would surely freeze in place and be unable to move until spring came. I vaguely wondered how cold it was. I remembered having heard on someone's car radio that this was supposed to be the coldest winter Michigan had experienced in the last decade. Though winter had only just begun, it was already cold enough for the district council to be suggesting face coverings to prevent citizens from getting frostbite and losing their nose.

I sneezed. I had no such face covering. Hell! I didn't even have a jacket! Let alone a coat or anything mildly warm. All I had was my oversized green cardigan, my black Star Wars t-shirt and my black jeans. That was it. Yet here I sat, outside a bakery in well below freezing temperatures, shivering myself into next decade.

I could go to a shelter. At least there I wouldn't have to endure the bitter biting of the wind as it gushed with double its normal force through these tight, abandoned alleyways. But if I went to a shelter then there was no chance of leaving undetected, I reminded myself. No, it was better to stay here, cold and alone, than to risk human contact.

I was pulled from my thoughts by another pling from my phone. Another message from that unknown contact.

Received: 11: 27

Are you alone?

Again, the question was simple. And although the mere thought hurt like a knife twisting in a fresh wound, I looked around at the dark, trash littered alleyway I sat in, watching the scattered rags of paper flutter and tumble in the winter gales, and I looked at the brutally beautiful puddles of speckled ice gathering along my body and melting on my skin, and I examined the bleak night sky, choked starless by the drifting dreary clouds; and the utterly silent stillness of the sleeping city revealed the harsh reality of my answer.

No one was here.

Nobody cared.

Not even the stars would keep me company. Because the stars never cared who I was.

So, with no reason to keep the truth hidden. I answered the question honestly.

Sent: 11: 29 PM

Yes.

Sent: 11: 30 PM

I am alone.

I was completely and utterly alone.

***

Received: 10: 30 PM

I am alone.

Once again Jack got the distinct impression that these words carried a heavy burden. It made him frown. What could he do to help a person he didn't even know? He wanted to ask this person if they had any friends, but something about those words told him the answer. When this person had said they were alone, Jack got the feeling they weren't just talking about the current moment. But maybe that's what this person needed. Maybe they needed a friend.

Sent: 10: 32 PM

Well, I'll be your friend and talk to you. There, now you're not alone anymore!

Jack smiled as he sent the text. The reply didn't take long.

Received: 10: 33 PM

Thank you.

You don't have waste your time on me but thank you.

It didn't take any special powers to read in between the lines this time, anyone could see the sadness in those words. Though Jack wasn't sure if it was his powers causing that strange feeling or if he was just imagining things.

Sent: 10:34 PM

I don't mind. Really!

Besides, I don't have anyone to talk to either.

Received: 10: 35 PM

Well, in that case, we can be lonely together!

Jack grinned. He'd made himself a friend. He couldn't wait to get to know them.

***

Received: 11: 36 PM

Since we're friends now, what's your name?

I smiled down at my new mystery friend's message. There was something about the words that made them seem innocent and earnest. It couldn't hurt to give my name, right? It’s not like he could find me. After all, I'm supposed to be dead.

Sent: 11: 37 PM

My name is Martina.

I sent my name and waited for the response. It came quickly.

Received: 11: 38 PM

I like your name Martina!

It's very pretty.

I flinched as I read the text. Something about seeing my name written in the text brought me back to a conversation with a different person a long time ago. It was a painful memory, and I didn't want to see it anymore. I didn't want another reminder of the still bleeding wounds in my heart. I remembered why I didn't let anyone call me that name anymore.

Sent: 11: 39 PM

Thank you.

But I would prefer you call me Marty.

I didn't want to be so sensitive to things like this, but I just couldn't help it.

Received: 11: 40 PM

Alright! I like Marty too.

It's a fun name.

I smiled; grateful they didn't ask why it was so important that they called me by a nickname.

Sent: 11: 41 PM

Thanks for understanding.

So, what's your name?

Received: 11: 42 PM

My name is Jack!

I grinned to myself. I'd made me a friend. I just couldn't wait to get to know him.

Sent: 11: 43 PM

Heya, Jack!

It’s nice to meet you!

I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Received: 11: 44 PM

I agree, Marty. We are going to be great friends!

Sent: 11: 45 PM

So, what's your favorite movie?

And just like that, we talked until the sun came up. And suddenly, for the first time in quite a while, I wasn't completely alone.

***

"Hey, uh, Jack? We're back!"

Sam's voice drifted in from just outside Jack's bedroom door. Jack was surprised. He hadn't heard the brothers come in which, for him, was quite peculiar.

The door creaked open and Jack hastily attempted to pretend like he hadn't been using the phone.

He failed.

Miserably.

The device slipped from his hand and he fumbled to catch it before it smashed against the grey, polished concrete floor. He let out a sigh of relief as he snatched it just in time.

Sam peered around the door, checking in on Jack, who was now hanging halfway off his bed and clutching the phone. Scrambling to sit upright, Jack gave Sam a half-panicked smile.

"Hi Sam!" He waved a greeting, shoving his phone behind his back. Sam raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He folded his arms and leaned back on his heels.

"Hey Jack," Sam seemed a little distracted, "Have you seen Cas?" He asked. Jack shook his head vigorously.

"He's not back yet," He answered. Sam nodded and started to leave before stopping and turning back. Only now seeming to notice Jack's odd behavior. Sam gestured at the phone hidden behind the boys back,

"So, what were you doing in here just now?" Jack's eyes flew wide as quarters and his gaze shifted rapidly around the room, focusing on anywhere but Sam. His mind was working overtime trying to find a viable excuse.

"Uhhhh...Nothing!" Jack tried; his brain had gone blank. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure about that?" Sam leaned forward a little, narrowing his eyes. Jack leaned back to match; his face scrunched up with the guilt he was trying very hard to hide. Everyone in the bunker knew how terrible Jack was at lying. He might be able to pass a few simple fibs by a stranger, but his family saw through him like he was made of glass. He couldn't deceive them. But that didn't stop him from trying, however.

"Yes..." Jack said slowly, his eyebrows pulling together in a rather sad attempt at looking sincere.

"Jack, what were you doing?" Sam asked more sternly. Jack looked at his feet and didn't answer. His shoulders moved up and down in a shrug.

"Do I have to go get Dean?" Sam pressed. Now Jack's head shot up. He stretched his hands out in a pleading gesture.

"No, no! Don't tell Dean!" Jack begged. Sam's expression shifted into one of concern.

"If you tell me, I won't tell Dean." Sam agreed, moving to sit on the bed beside Jack who shifted to give him some space. Sam waited patiently for the young Nephilim to speak. Jack kept his head down and rubbed his hands together nervously as he tried to think of how he should explain himself.

"Well, last night I was watching Netflix when I got this text from somebody wishing me a merry Christmas-" He started.

"Someone we know?" Sam asked, interrupting. Jack shook his head and continued.

"I asked them why they would do that, and they said it was because they thought that nobody should be alone this time of year. So, I asked if they were alone and they said, yes ─" Jack looked the younger Winchester in the eyes ─

"I don't know why but I just got this- this feeling, and they sounded just so sad, and now we're friends! But Dean said not to do anything stupid, and now I'm worried that I did! Are you mad?" Jack finished, worry coloring his features. Sam blinked. Once again astounded by the size of the half-angel's heart, he shook his head.

"No, Jack. I'm not mad," He said, softly.

"Really?"

"Really. I think you did a good thing. Everyone needs a friend." Sam patted Jack's shoulder and smiled. Jack looked down, grinning to himself as pride filled his chest.

Sam waited a moment before getting up from the bed. Stretching his back out and groaning a bit as he stood. It had been almost 48 hours since he last slept, and he was more than ready for a long nap. His hand rested on the doorknob and he paused a moment before turning back around.

"Hey, uh, Jack. Just one more thing. Do you by chance know this person's name?" Sam asked. Jack looked up briefly before looking back at the floor again, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up to stain his cheeks.

"It's, uh, it's Marty," He replied. Sam nodded and moved to leave again but he stopped. His eyebrows pulled down with confusion before he turned back.

"And uh, is that a boy's name or a girl's name? Do you know?" Jack turned his head a bit to the side and picked at a thread in his jeans.

"Does it matter?" He questioned back. Truthfully, it didn't. Sam wouldn't make Jack stop if he didn't want to. But to say that the boy's current evasive behavior didn't pique his interest, would be a lie. Though, the kid’s flushed cheeks told him quite a bit about the answer.

"It doesn't matter," Sam said, shrugging, "I'm just curious is all." The tall man watched the boy's reaction. Jack nodded and shifted as if uncomfortable.

"Marty's a girl." He answered, trying to force his voice into sounding nonchalant. And failing.

"Okay, cool." Sam nodded, turning around again, and reaching for the handle. Jack's head whipped around.

"Wait, Sam!"

Sam looked over his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"Don't. Tell. Dean!" Jack stressed. Urgency was evident in his voice. Sam huffed a laugh.

"Okay, Jack." With that, Sam pulled open the door and walked out letting the heavy steel swing shut behind him. Behind the door, Jack sighed with relief. He'd dodged a bullet with that one.

Walking a ways down the hall, Sam got to Dean's room where his older brother was now unpacking. The younger brother leaned on the door frame and expelled the laughter he'd been holding on to since Jack’s room. Dean turned around, holding a pistol and a pair of weeks old and hopelessly blood caked socks in his hands, he faced Sam with a questioning look.

"What's got you so giggly all of a sudden?" The older of the brother's asked.

Dean glanced at the pair of socks in his hand. He grimaced at the stench and held them further away from his face, trying not to breathe. It didn't work. The socks odor was so pungent, Dean could smell them through his mouth. There was no hope of washing them. Nope, those things would have to be burned. Though, taking another whiff of them, Dean wasn't sure that even incinerating the socks would do him much good now. The stomach-turning stink would be branded into his memory forever. Sam straightened up, shaking his head of shoulder length hair.

"It's just something Jack said." Sam smiled and laughed again before taking notice of the unholy stench wafting off the socks. He coughed. "Dude, those stink. Bad!"

"Yeah, it's a sad day, Sammy." Dean nodded solemnly. Sam covered his nose.

"Why?"

"These were my second luckiest pair of socks."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, they're not anymore," Sam pointed out. Now, they were just rancid.

"I think we should give em' a Viking funeral, something to honor their service. I mean, I remember one time when I wore these things for two weeks straight!" Dean reminisced, grinning. Sam looked mildly disturbed.

"That's, uh... nice... But, uh, is there somewhere we could put them before the funeral? Because they, uh, they reek." Sam was trying hard not to gag and couldn't understand how Dean could be holding them and remain unaffected. Dean smirked.

"You wanna go put em' somewhere?" He asked, waving the socks into Sam's face. Sam leaned away.

"Ah! God! No! Put those things somewhere! Please!" He choked out. Dean just grinned and moved to the other side of the room. Grabbing a cardboard box from off the shelf, he shoved the socks in there and sealed the lid. The stench quickly began to dissipate.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"We're gonna have to burn that box too."

"Yup." Sam still felt a little sick but at least the socks were gone.

"So, what was it Jack said that you thought was so funny?" The older brother asked.

"Oh, uh, nothing. It was nothing," Sam said. But laughter began to creep up on him again. Dean rolled his eyes and went back to pulling more dirty clothing from the duffle bag.

"Are ya gonna stand there or are ya gonna spill?" Dean pushed. Sam sobered up again.

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you," He said.

Dean shook his head, mildly annoyed. He knew Sam was going to tell him whatever juicy information he had gotten, just like he always did when he got that sly look on his face. Sam could be a bit of a schoolgirl that way. Except, of course, when it came to the important things, the things Dean was supposed to know. Those things Sam always kept to himself.

"Well, Sammy, if you ain’t gonna spill─" he used the gun in his hand to gesture from Sam to the duffle bag─ "get workin'."

The younger Winchester moved to the bag and started unpacking, grinning his face off all the while. Dean knew his little brother was waiting for him to ask about the thing with Jack again, so he said nothing. He just waited for Sam to look over to him eagerly, which is exactly what Sam did.

"So get this!" Sam started.

'Here it comes.' Dean predicted internally. Sam kept starring.

'Yatzee.' Dean thought. He knew Sam like the back of his hand. Actually, he probably knew his brother better than that.

"Apparently, Jack got a text from some random person last night wishing him merry Christmas. And, well, you know Jack! So he─" Dean stopped his brother mid-sentence.

"What's her name?" He interrupted. Sam looked confused.

"I didn't say anything about a girl," Sam trailed off. Dean sighed and shook his head.

"Geez, Sammy! If you love drama so much, you should go be an actor. You ain't foolin' anybody. We both know where this is goin' so just cut to the chase!" Dean sighed, opening a trunk and tossing in the gun he'd been holding along with several knives. His small outburst had startled his younger brother, but Dean didn't really care. Sam wasn't the only one who hadn't slept in 48 hours. Sleep was calling and Dean wanted nothing more than to answer. Sam frowned.

"Marty. The girl's name is Marty," Sam stated, sounding rather put out that Dean had guessed at his not-so-cleaver ploy. The older if the pair turned to the younger with a perplexed expression.

"Wait, wait. Marty?" He clarified. Amused disbelief written all over his features.

"Marty," Sam confirmed.

"Marty?"

"Yeah. Marty."

"Like the zebra in Madagascar, Marty?" Dean asked, grinning. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, like that. But remember, you didn't hear anything from me!" He answered, smiling as well. Dean laughed as he turned his attention back to the mess of clothing and weapons surrounding him on the floor.

"Yeah, whatever, drama queen." Dean rolled his eyes and kept working. The room was silent for a moment before the older Winchester burst out laughing again. He couldn't help himself; he found the subject hilarious.

"Ah, man. Marty! Now there's a name!" He exclaimed as he started folding the few clean clothing items laying in the pile. "What? Did her parents just take one look at her and say: 'Look at our beautiful baby! Let's name her Marty!'" Dean scoffed.

Sam snorted and shook his head at his older brother's bad joke. Then he leaned his head back and yawned.

"Man, I think we need some sleep," Sam sighed. Dean smirked.

"Is it your bedtime already?" He taunted, expecting a playful retort. But this time, Sam didn't argue. He just nodded.

"Yeah, I think it is." Though worried about his little brother, Dean held his playful smirk in place perfectly, just like he had been doing for so many years.

"Well, you go ahead and hit the sack. I'll finish up here." He said, easily. Even though he was just as tired and Sam was, he would finish out like always. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, o'course. There's not much left anyway." That was a lie and they both knew it, but Sam took the offer of sleep while it was on the table.

"Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome, Sammy."

Sam patted his older brother on the arm as he stood and left the room. Traveling down the corridor he got to his bedroom and was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Meanwhile, Dean mouthed the strange name of Jack's mystery girl and chuckled about it to himself. Sitting on the floor in his room as he continued folding the rest of the clean clothes, cleaning out all the weapons and putting everything back in its place. The chore took him two more hours to complete but when it was done, he stretched himself out and laid back on his bed.

"Marty. Now, that's hilarious." Dean snickered to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

~I might hate myself tomorrow.

But I'm on my way tonight.

Let's be lonely together.

A little less lonely together~

Lyrics from: Lonely Together by Jasmine Thompson

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Fall

summary: You spend the fall season falling in love with Frankie.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

pairing: frankie “catfish” morales x f!reader

warnings: loads of fluff, mentions of death if you squint

rating: R

word count: 6.165k

masterlist

The day you meet Frankie Morales, you fall for him—literally.

It happens at the local orchard when you’re picking apples like you always do when the season comes around. You usually stop by a few times to collect a large share of apples, cooking them into any recipes you can—apple pie, apple crisp, apple cake, literally anything. It’s one of your favorite parts of the fall, along with the changing colors of the leaves and the cool breeze that forces you to wear just one more layer than you’re used to after the summertime.

This time, however, you’re climbing one of the wooden ladders to reach the good apples near the top of a tree when its leg falls into a dip in the ground, causing it to sway and you to go with it. You let out a gasp and try to grip onto something, but it’s all out of your reach. You brace yourself for an embarrassing moment when you hit the ground and the other onlookers have to stare at you uncomfortably, but instead, you’re secured by a gentle grip on your waist. When you turn your head to observe your savior, you almost want to fall again.

Warm, charcoal eyes peek out from under a baseball cap, wide and expressive enough to reveal his concern for your well-being yet his amusement at what could’ve happened. There’s a smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, the hint of a dimple appearing within his scruff. “I guess that’s why they call the season ‘fall,’ huh?” the man jokes, his voice slightly raspy as he chuckles softly. He doesn’t release his hold on you until you’re safe on the ground again, tipping his cap and then stuffing his hands into his pockets afterwards. “You alright?” His brow is knitted in concern still.

You laugh and nod, cheeks growing hot as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, just wasn’t expecting that,” you admit. You then raise an eyebrow at him. “Not sure I’ve recovered from that dad joke of yours, though.”

The man laughs heartily, the sound of it warming your chest as you laugh with him. “That’s why my buddies call me the dad friend, I guess.”

You smile at him. “Well, what do I get to call you?”

He smiles wider, reaching out one of his hands for you to shake. “Frankie—Frankie Morales.”

You introduce yourself as you shake his hand, relishing in how warm it feels as it grips yours securely yet gently in his. He pulls away and you oddly find yourself missing the touch, watching as it retreats back into the pocket of his jeans. You further observe the green flannel he’s got on with the sleeves pushed past his elbows and the boots on his feet, admiring the way he dresses for the season. “Thanks for saving my ass, Frankie.”

Frankie’s eyes widen a bit at you. “Of course. I wouldn’t trust those little wooden shits for my life, and I’ve had to do a lot of crazy things.”

You raise an eyebrow yet again in curiosity. “A lot of crazy things, huh? Well, now I’ve got to hear about them.”

Another smile appears on Frankie’s lips as he gestures towards the basket hanging from your arm. “Mind if I join you, then?”

You happily accept, and for the rest of your time at the orchard, you walk along with Frankie and get to know him better. You learn that most of the “crazy things” he’d mentioned were due to his time spent in the Delta Force along with the aforementioned buddies he’d met while serving. He tells you a few brief stories of things that went down, either on the job or with his friends. You confess that you’ve never been the perfectly innocent type, either, recounting some of your wild stories that have Frankie admitting he feels a little better about things he’s either done or had to witness.

You’re actually saddened by the time you wrap up your apple-picking, and you can tell Frankie feels the same way. He carries your bags to your car for you, saying that he knows you’re more than capable of taking them yourself but insisting that it’s how he was raised and that he really doesn’t mind. You exchange numbers and invite him over to your apartment later in the week to enjoy something baked with these apples. Frankie eagerly accepts and assures you that he’ll keep in touch. He stays true to his word, shooting you a text as soon as he gets home.

For the next few days, you talk nonstop, even going to the point where you’re texting more at your work desk than you probably should. When the night of Frankie’s visit comes, you’ve completely decked out your apartment, getting your best dish sets clean as you finish setting up the white fairy lights around your cabinets. The apple crisp you’ve decided to bake is already in the oven and making the apartment smell of cinnamon and nutmeg when you hear Frankie buzz up. You call him in and open the door when he arrives, unable to keep yourself from smiling as you let him in. He’s wearing that same baseball hat and you wonder if it’s a signature part of his look. There’s dark hair that curls out from under it and it reminds you of the cinnamon you’ve sprinkled on the dessert.

“Whatever you’re making smells heavenly,” Frankie confesses when he seats himself at your kitchen island.

You thank him as you stand across from him, leaning your elbows against the counter and meeting his warm and easygoing gaze. “It’s my mom’s famous apple crisp.”

Frankie’s eyes brighten at that. “Pardon my French, but I fuckin’ love apple crisp.”

You laugh a bit. “That’s good, then, because there’s a lot of it.”

“That’s incredible. You’re incredible. I can’t remember the last time I got to have a homemade dessert like this.”

You frown a bit upon hearing that. “Really?”

Frankie shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, my parents don’t live in the area, and none of the guys are really star bakers, so…”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you don’t bake? At all?” When Frankie shakes his head, you gasp dramatically. “Oh, there’s so many simple recipes you could make—like this!”

Frankie smiles at your enthusiasm. “I guess you’ll just have to show me a few of them sometime.”

You return his smile. “I guess so.” You’re just about lost in his eyes when the timer on your oven goes off, making you jump as your hand flies up to press against your chest. You let out an embarrassed giggle as you head over to the oven, slipping on your mit and pulling out the dessert. “Jesus, that scared me.”

“Sorry,” Frankie apologizes with a chuckle. “I can be a little… distracting.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” There’s a hint of amusement in your voice as you look at Frankie over your shoulder. He’s observing your movements with such warmth and admiration that you’re sure the oven-heated pan wouldn’t feel as warm as your chest does now. You hear a shuffle of footsteps and look again to see Frankie walking over to where you’ve set the pan down onto the counter, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you as he observes your creation.

“So, what’d you do to make this masterpiece?” Frankie questions, his tone full of honest curiosity as his gaze shifts from the dessert to you.

“Real simple,” you assure him, your hand floating over the dessert as you point out the different ingredients. “Butter, brown sugar, flour, old-fashioned oats, cinnamon, and nutmeg, all mixed together in a bowl. You crumble that topping over some sliced apples and voila!” You gesture to the pan, making Frankie chuckle with a nod of understanding. “If you really wanna be fancy and add some extra flavor, you can also soak the apple slices in cinnamon and nutmeg before adding the topping.”

Frankie raises a curious eyebrow as he nods. “Wow. That does seem pretty simple.”

You reach for the plates you’d already set out and start to dish out the servings. “Yeah—it’s quick and easy, and I’m sure your friends would go wild for it.”

Frankie scoffs. “Oh, yeah, they’d eat anything.” You laugh as Frankie gestures towards the dishes. “How can I help you?”

“There’s no need, Frankie,” you assure him as you shake your head.

“Please,” Frankie insists, his dark eyes pleading for you to let him do something.

You sigh yet smile at his sheer kindness, gesturing towards your fridge and freezer. “If you want to top it with some vanilla ice cream, I’ve got some in the freezer.”

“Perfect.” Frankie sets off in that direction without hesitation, reaching inside and pulling out the carton of ice cream for you. He sets it down on the counter next to the pan, gesturing to your small drawers to wordlessly question where he can find the scooper. You point to one just below where he’s placed the carton, and he retrieves it easily as he takes the plates from you and adds a generous scoop onto each one. You set forks on each plate, smiling in satisfaction once you’ve finished. You both navigate your ways back to the counter, you continuing to stand across from Frankie as you dig in with caution thanks to its temperature. When Frankie gets his first bite in, he closes his eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the taste while the hand not holding his fork dances in the air. “Wow.” Frankie reopens his eyes and you laugh at how much they’re sparkling. “This is… I don’t even know how to describe it other than magical.”

Your cheeks heat up as you laugh again. “Oh please,” you demur, picking at your next scoop as you try to bite back your smile. “It’s not me, just the apples.” Your gaze lifts back up to him as you finally let your smile give way. “Your company while picking probably made them taste a lot sweeter.”

It’s Frankie’s turn to blush at that, and he tries to hide it by taking another bite. You watch his hand readjust the cap on his head. “Almost as sweet as you.” Frankie smiles in victory when he notices your shy demeanor in response. After a few moments of comfortable silence while you eat, Frankie clears his throat, pushing his plate away a bit once he finishes. “Listen,” he begins, his voice soft. “I really liked this dessert and I really like you.” His gaze looks into yours hopefully. “Can I take you on a proper date soon?”

You smile warmly as you nod in response. “I’d love that, Frankie.” You take his plate for him and earn a genuine thank-you, carrying the plates to the sink and washing them off. Not surprisingly, you hear Frankie’s footsteps soon following after you, and he picks up your drying rag to dry the dishes after you clean them. “Though… I am a little offended that you wouldn’t consider this a ‘proper date.’” Your tone makes it clear that you’re kidding, but a look of fear still crosses over Frankie’s features as he looks down at you.

“No! I just—you know, I’d like to treat you. To something really nice. Not that this isn’t really nice, but I—.”

“Frankie, it’s alright,” you cut him off with a laugh, handing him the last dish to be dried as you look up at him with a bright smile. “I was joking. I know what you meant. And this has been very nice.” A look of slight embarrassment now covers Frankie’s face, and you release a chuckle as you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. It flushes red not long after, and you bite back a smile at his adorably shy behavior.

Frankie stays for another hour or so as you make easy conversation, planning for him to come pick you up this weekend to take you on his “proper date” to the local pumpkin patch. It’s an adorable selection and you find yourself gleeful at the thought of him embracing the season so openly. You’ve always loved the season and to see Frankie share that same passion for it with you makes you more joyful than you could’ve thought. You anticipate the date for the rest of the week—and, judging by the frequent and enthusiastic texts you share with Frankie, so does he. You practically skip out the door when Frankie finally texts you he’s arrived, your oversized sweater bouncing as you make your way to his truck. He gets out to open the door for you and you shake your head at his never-ending, gentleman-like behavior.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you joke once Frankie gets back into his side of the truck. He chuckles as he starts down the road.

“I just can’t help treating a woman like you with the utmost respect,” Frankie retorts, his honesty evident in his tone. “Well, and any woman. But you especially.”

You smile as you never look away from him. “I see you drank your respect women juice this morning.”

Frankie laughs, giving you a quick look full of amusement and admiration. “Every day. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

You make more playful banter and fun conversation as you soon arrive at the pumpkin patch. Frankie helps you down from the truck and leads you to the wooden box that serves as an entry point, paying for both your fees no matter how many times you try to force the cash into his hands. Once your hands are stamped and you’re inside, you stay close alongside him, your arm brushing against his with every movement. You hope he gets the hint and he does, entwining his hand with yours in a way that makes your entire body go warm.

“So, what do you wanna do first?” Frankie asks, looking down at you with a soft smile.

You shrug and look around. “I’ll do anything,” you confess. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

Frankie chuckles. “Everything.”

You shake your head at him. “C’mon, Frankie. There’s gotta be something you like the most out of it all.”

It’s Frankie’s turn to shrug as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “I swear, I love everything.”

You laugh. “Alright. Then I’m making the executive decision to get cider donuts.”

Frankie laughs with you. “I support that.”

After having to fight Frankie to pay once again—and failing—and finding a seat at one of the wooden picnic benches, you both enjoy your donuts as you keep your hands folded together underneath the table. You sit in comfortable silence while you eat, looking out and watching the parents who try to keep their kids under control and the teenagers who try to pretend they’re not on a date but obviously are. You chuckle as you finish and point out a nearby duo who’s standing awkwardly far apart to Frankie. “How much do you wanna bet those two are gonna end up dating by the end of the night?”

Frankie raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, they look pretty awkward. But I feel like I know better than to try to make a bet with you. You’re too smart.” Your cheeks grow warm, especially as Frankie looks over at you and furrows his brow. He lifts his free hand but hesitates. “You have, uh—” he gestures to your mouth before adding, “—do you mind if I…?” He reaches his free hand further again, and you nod once as he brushes his thumb along the corner of your mouth, no doubt wiping away a few pieces of sugar that lingered there. Your face gets even hotter, now, your gaze watching his own observe you with such admiration that you can practically feel your heart flying out of your chest. He lets his thumb fall to your chin as he looks all over your face, a smile growing on his lips. “You’re really beautiful, you know.”

Your gaze falls to your entwined hands as you try to bite back a smile. “Thank you,” you reply honestly, only looking back up once his hand leaves your face. You see his dark eyes glittering in a way that makes your smile impossible to hide any longer. “You should know that the day we met, I almost fell again when I saw you.”

Frankie blushes and shakes his head at you. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious!” You laugh as you and Frankie stand up from the bench, throwing out your garbage and walking leisurely through the patch hand-in-hand. “If I had, it would’ve been a much better cause than that hunk of wood.”

“That’s true,” Frankie agrees, a playful smile on his lips. “But without that ‘hunk of wood,’ we wouldn’t have met.”

“Fair point.” You give his hand a squeeze as you smile to yourself. “Guess I’m gonna have to thank that thing one day.” You stop when you realize you’re a few paces away from the corn maze, and you look up at Frankie excitedly as you gesture to it. “Wanna go through the maze?”

Frankie watches your excitement with pure admiration as he nods. “Let’s go for it.”

He walks with you inside the entrance, his hand never leaving yours as you walk around together. Turns out that he’s quite the guide as you go around, and you figure that it probably has something to do with his military training. You’re sure that you’re bound to get out fast, but after ten more minutes of turning and walking, you realize you’re further in and not even that close to the exit. You can’t help giggling as you stand on your tiptoes in a lame attempt to look over the corn. “I think we’re lost, Frankie.”

Frankie shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe I wasn’t trying to get us out.”

You scoff, turning to give him an incredulous look that makes him laugh. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d lead me into a cornfield to murder me on our first date. I thought we’d at least make it to the second one before that happened.”

Frankie laughs harder and shakes his head. “I won’t hurt you,” he assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s just… a little more private out here.”

You raise an eyebrow, ready to question him as to why he wants privacy when you hear a sudden rustling in some of the nearby stalks. You nearly jump into Frankie’s arms, bracing your free hand against his chest as you watch the stalks shake—convinced that someone’s about to jump out of them. Your moment of panic subsides when a squirrel trots out from the stalks, moving quickly across to the group of stalks that are facing your back. You let out a sigh of relief as you laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “I’m so sorry. I guess I’m just easy to scare.”

“That’s fine. I’m quick to protect.” You look up at Frankie upon hearing his sweet words, watching as his dark gaze observes you affectionately from under his hat. His gaze falls to your lips for a quick moment, returning to your eyes soon after. Your fingers drum against his chest as you raise an eyebrow up at him.

“So, about that privacy…” you trail off as you bite back a smile, looking to his lips as he’d done to you before.

You watch Frankie smile wide enough to reveal his dimple before his free hand cups your cheek, easing his face closer to yours until his lips touch yours. The kiss is gentle and sweet, just like the Frankie you’ve come to know, and you can still taste the faint remnants of apple cider and cinnamon and sugar on his mouth as it moves softly with your own. Frankie pulls away for a moment but stays close, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he observes your gaze closely. When he sees it glowing just as much as his own, he goes in for another, this time letting it deepen as he gently eases your body against his. You part your lips to let him in more, craving the sweet taste of him. Your fingers pick lightly at the curls peeking out from under his hat, wishing they could thread fully through his hair but knowing that time will come eventually. Your stomach is fluttering practically as much as the tops of the corn stalks in the wind when you pull away, your smiles wide and full of nothing but pure joy and affection for each other.

“It was a good choice to get lost,” you say in a hushed voice, running one of your hands along the scruff on his jaw. Frankie chuckles softly at you. “But I think we should get out before we get reported like two horny teenagers.”

Frankie laughs harder at that, nodding to agree as he lets you separate yourself from him. He holds tight to your hand again, and you let your free arm wrap around his as he leads you out of the maze for good this time. You finish the evening at the patch by selecting two pumpkins that you can each carve on a different night, and Frankie carries them to the truck for you as he helps you up. He takes you home and makes sure to walk you up and give you a goodnight kiss along with a promise to come the next evening to carve the pumpkins.

He, of course, follows up on that promise, and your time spent together becomes more and more frequent as the season progresses. Soon, you’re seeing him almost every evening, whether it’s him coming over to your place, you going to his, or him taking you somewhere for dinner or just to look out at the beautiful, changing nature. The more you get to know Frankie, the sweeter you find him to be, fully learning just how selfless he is and how eager he is to lavish you with affection. If you show any evidence of you being cold, he’ll either wrap his arm around you or give you his jacket right away. If you seem tired, he’ll offer his shoulder for you to rest upon. If you’re upset, he’ll let you talk for hours, even offering to bake you something you’ve taught him to make. Frankie’s mastered your apple crisp recipe to become even better than yours, and you can’t complain about it. He’ll never admit it, but you know it’s true.

One of your favorite nights is when Frankie takes you on a haunted hayride. You’re not a huge fan of them, but remembering his words about protecting you, you decide it’ll be fine and he won’t let anything happen to you. Thankfully, this isn’t the type of haunted hayride where they can reach out and grab you, so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s the jump scares that get you most of the time, and while you hold Frankie’s hand and arm the whole time, you often find yourself hiding your face in his shoulder while he assures you he’s got you and you’re okay. It’s usually uttered between laughs and you don’t mind—especially when Frankie accidentally gets scared so bad by one masked man who jumps out of a tree that he yelps like a surprised child. You laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and Frankie just shakes his head as he chuckles along with you. By the end of the night, you’re still buzzing with anticipation and fearing a random thing jumping out at you, so Frankie agrees to stay the night with you at your apartment just so you can feel secure enough in his arms to sleep.

When Halloween rolls around, Frankie tells you that you’ve been invited to go with him to a party hosted by his best friends. You’ve heard so much about them and this will be your first time meeting them. Thankfully, Frankie tells you it’s not a costume party, so you don’t have to worry about being dressed up as someone else when you meet them. You find yourself feeling a bit nervous as you get ready for the occasion, though, wanting to impress the guys who Frankie has repeatedly told you are like family to him. You dress as nice as you can without looking as if you’re going overboard, wrapping up your light application of makeup as soon as you get the text that Frankie’s arrived. You meet him outside to see him already leaning against the truck with his arms crossed over his chest, and they unfold slowly as he stands up straight to meet you. Frankie’s hands wrap around your waist as his widened gaze observes you fondly.

“You look gorgeous,” Frankie tells you, his voice soft as he places a kiss in greeting against your lips. “I mean, you always do, but tonight you look especially incredible.” You thank him quietly, giving him another kiss before pulling away to let him open the door for you. You hop inside and wrap your hand in his as soon as he joins you again, your entwined hands resting on your thigh as he starts off towards Santiago’s house. Frankie takes a quick look over at you, long enough for you to clearly see the way he’s reading you so easily—as always. “You nervous?”

You shrug, trying to play it off but knowing better thanks to Frankie’s keen way of knowing you. “A little,” you confess with a light sigh. “I just—I know how much they mean to you and I want them to approve of me.”

“Approve of you?” Frankie scoffs lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they already adore you. When they actually see you in person, they’ll just go crazier over you.” He gives you another look of reassurance. “And even if, in some weird alternate universe, they didn’t ‘approve’ of you, I wouldn’t give a shit.”

You can’t help smiling at that, and you squeeze his hand in thanks. You remain in comfortable silence for the rest of the drive, taking a deep breath once Frankie pulls into the driveway. He carries the drinks he’s contributing in one hand and keeps your hand tight in his with the other, not even bothering to knock on the door as he pushes your way inside. Almost as soon as you walk in the house, you’re met with cheers of delight and excitement as the guys come up one-by-one. They greet Frankie first and then you, and by the time you’ve sifted through all four of them, you already feel much more at ease. Santiago even invites you into the kitchen with him, and Frankie urges you to go on as you follow him away from the rest of the guys.

“You know, you’re pretty much a legend around here already,” Santiago tells you, a smile tugging at his lips as he invites you to sit at his counter while he finishes cooking up dinner. You laugh and shake your head, watching as he works skillfully. “I just thought I’d get you in here because, well, as I’m sure Frankie’s already warned you, the guys can be pretty… overbearing at first.”

“Yeah, I did get that warning,” you reply, chuckling more as you sip at a glass of water Santiago had offered you before. “But they all seem very sweet, too.”

“And fucking loud.” Santiago’s words are followed by a string of random exclamations from the dining room where the guys are gathered, and he looks at you with a raised brow that practically says See what I mean?

You snicker. “I’m surprised—Frankie’s pretty quiet himself.”

Santiago hums in agreement. “He keeps us all in check. That’s why he’s the dad friend.”

“Oh, right. He’s told me all about that.”

“Really?”

You nod, watching as Santiago views you with an amused eye. “It was one of the first things he told me.”

Santiago stops what he’s doing to look up at you again. “Really?”

You nod again, this time with a light laugh. “I mean, his first words to me were a total dad joke, so…”

Santiago laughs, giving his head a shake as he looks back to what he’s cooking. “Bless your heart for letting him continue, then.”

You smile as you reflect on the moment when it all began. “I couldn’t resist. It was actually really charming to me.”

Santiago lets out a dramatic aww, causing you to giggle and shake your head as you take another sip of your water. As Santiago starts to finish up the meal, you move to rise from your seat, wanting to help him.

“What can I do to help?” you ask.

Almost immediately, you’re shot down as Santiago shakes his head and gestures for you to sit back down. “I really appreciate it, but don’t worry, you’re alright. I never make my guests work. Only those little shits.” He gestures with the utensil in his hand towards the boisterous dining room that’s hidden by a wall. You chuckle and nod in understanding, letting yourself relax back into your seat as he continues to work. “Actually, your boyfriend should be coming to ask me for help any minute now.”

As if on cue, Frankie pops out from around the corner of the wall, his hand resting on it as he looks to his friend with a lifted brow. “Need some help, Pope?” Santiago nods and gestures towards a platter that’s already been put together on the countertop you’re sitting at. Frankie smiles warmly at you as he walks over, pausing before picking up the platter to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Having fun so far, babe?” You nod, and Frankie jerks his head in Santiago’s direction. “He’s not annoying you too much yet, is he?”

“Oh, fuck you, Fish,” Santiago scoffs, causing Frankie to laugh as he starts to pick up the platter. “She’s great company.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Frankie agrees, throwing you a sly wink before he heads off to the dining room. You shake your head and follow, taking your seat beside Frankie as the dinner commences.

Frankie keeps a hand on your thigh to settle you as the guys begin to pester you with questions, but you don’t mind. You entertain them well and they seem to really enjoy your company, which you know brings a wide smile to Frankie’s face as he listens in. By the end of the night, you’re sharing drinks and laughing so hard you have to double over a few times, already being asked when Frankie will bring you by again. You promise them that there’s plenty of time left, and when Frankie announces that he’s taking you home, they all take the time to say a warm goodbye along with a reinforced statement to Frankie that you better be in for the long run. You already feel like a part of their little family as you leave, and Frankie shares his joy with you over this on the drive back.

“I’ve never seen them so excited over one of our girlfriends before,” Frankie confesses excitedly, his hand giving yours a squeeze. “I mean, I knew they were gonna love you, but they’ve practically adopted you into the family already.”

You smile warmly as you return his squeeze. “I feel honored. They’re great, Frankie, really. I can see why you love them so much.”

Frankie looks at you jokingly, a playful smile on his lips. “Oh boy, should I be worried, babe? Am I gonna have to compete?”

You laugh heartily. “No, Frankie, you won’t. They’re all great, but—” you pause as you lean over to kiss his cheek, “—you’ll win me over time and time again.”

Frankie blushes a bit as he smiles wider, his dimple popping out and making your heart soar as you finish the drive to your apartment.

When the season starts coming to a close, Frankie takes you out for a weekend camping trip, wanting to use as much of the lasting relatively-warm weather as he can. You hike around the scenery during the day and sit by the fire at night. Frankie always makes sure you have as many layers as you need to stay warm, and during those cold nights, he always keeps an arm around your shoulders and—inside your tent—he holds you as close to him as possible. It’s the last night now, and you’ve been sitting at the fire reflecting on your pasts and how they’ve led you to this very moment, to each other.

“Fall was always my favorite season,” you tell Frankie, head leaning against his shoulder as he keeps an arm around you.

“Really?” Frankie remarks, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as you nod at him. “I’ve always been more of a summer guy.”

You look up at him with a small smile. “I can see that.”

Frankie laughs, kissing your head before he continues. “The fall has always been a favorite of mine, though. I guess I just never got to experience it the right way with someone I loved—until now.”

Your heart nearly flies out of your chest at his words, and you look back up at Frankie again to meet his warm and affectionate gaze. It practically melts you into a puddle as your jaw drops at him. “Is that your way of telling me you’re in love with me, Frankie?”

Frankie shrugs, his thumb now running down the length of your arm as he searches your eyes almost anxiously. You smile and reach a hand up to grab one of his cheeks, pulling his face to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You try to show him all the things you want to say in the kiss, proving to him that you feel the same way as your mouth moves with his in such a sweet and familiar manner. When you pull away, your gaze never leaves his as you brush your nose against his.

“I love you, too.”

Frankie smiles wide and releases a soft chuckle, placing another quick kiss upon your lips as he stays close. “I kinda figured.” You laugh as his free hand runs over the side of your face. His dark eyes sparkle with a new light, now, half-mischievous and half-desiring. He waits a few beats before he voices his thoughts. “Listen, remember when I told you about all the crazy things I had to do and would rather do than climb a flimsy wooden ladder?” You giggle at him and nod. “Well, how would you feel about adding to that crazy list?”

You raise your brow at him. “Depends. What do I have to do?”

Frankie breaks his gaze with you briefly to look up at the dark sky, and you follow to see a clearing in the surrounding trees that puts the autumn stars on full display. He then meets your eyes again with his usual warmth. “How would you feel about making love with me under these stars tonight?”

You try to bite back a smile at his proposition, lips brushing over his as you give your answer. “I think the only crazy thing about that is you thinking there would be a possibility of me saying no.”

Frankie chuckles softly as he fully places his mouth against yours, and in the sweetest and most passionate of ways, you add an item to his list of crazy things that night, but not without Frankie making sure you’re tucked in the warmth of his body and at least three layers of blankets when you finally drift off to sleep.

You realize the fall’s truly coming to a close the day you and Frankie start moving into your new apartment together. Frankie’s just reached for the last box in his truck when you realize snow’s starting to fall from the sky, and you look at him in disbelief. “The fall’s really over already, huh?” you ask him, watching as he smiles at you from behind the box he’s carrying.

Frankie nods, stopping beside you to plant a kiss on your forehead. “The winter’s here,” he reinforces your statement. “Good thing you’ll have me here to keep you warm. I know you’ll miss the fall, though.”

You shrug and smile up at him. “It won’t really be over when I’m falling for you basically everyday.”

Frankie rolls his eyes playfully as he chuckles. “Who’s the one with the dad jokes, now?”

You laugh and reach up to kiss him softly. “I learned from the best.”

When you look into Frankie’s dark and loving gaze, you realize that this is the exact moment where you’re finally feeling grateful for almost falling off that wooden ladder—and right into Frankie’s arms.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @nettyklecan @javier-djarin

#oh to fall in love with frankie during the fall #yes i am Yearning #frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #dindjarindiaries

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maxrev · 4 years

Note

Intimacy Prompts: Falling asleep in their arms. For mshenko :D

Sooo, apparently I CAN write prompts. Just takes me a while lol. Knox seemed to like this one and I can honestly say, I was not expecting this...domestic fluff. Hope you like it! My renegade has a soft side. He knew?

____________________________

Knox leaned his head against the seat in the skycar, exhausted from his physical therapy session. There were days he felt he was making more progress in going backwards than forwards; today had been one of those days.

He fought against closing his eyes and sleeping on the way back to the condo, located in the newly built high rise over English Bay. Kaidan's family had one before but it had been destroyed during the Reaper invasion.

"I have to make a quick stop and pick up some things for dinner, go ahead and close your eyes if you need to."

Too tired to even lift his head, Knox rotated it left to study Kaidan navigating the streets of Vancouver with calm assurance. Maybe he should have let him drive the mako all those years ago. No. He’d enjoyed himself too much and the reactions of the crew. Especially the man sitting next to him.

"I'm fine," he said, rotating his head back to the right and further, watching the world rush by in a blur.

Silence greeted his words and swore he could hear a wealth of reproach within it. He was even too tired to care.

"It's just you and me. You can relax your guard, Knox." Frustration laced the smoky voice.

Irritation crept into his, "I said, I'm fine."

God, he sounded like a belligerent child. Felt like one, too. Tired, cranky, and ready for a nap. "Your concern is noted but I'd rather wait until we get home."

Warmth bloomed in his chest at the thought - home. He never thought he'd have one of his own, had never expected to die saving the galaxy.

He still thought he sounded like a whiny child but exhaustion nipped at his heels like a recalcitrant pup and he was unable to keep it at bay. Kaidan pulled up to the store and Knox bit his lip against a groan as he pulled himself up by the armrest, ready to get out.

"You don't have to come in. I just need a few things. Stay here and relax."

"I told you, I'm--"

"Fine. Yeah...you have.” Now he could hear exasperation. “Look, I'm not trying to be pushy, just...take care of you."

Knox followed him into the grocery store, feeling like hed kicked a puppy. He knew Kaidan cared, just had a problem accepting it. Even after all this time. Learning how to look after himself from the age of four, a lifetime of doing so couldn’t be undone in a few years. For the moment, though, he had other things to worry about. It took every bit of concentration in his state of exhaustion not to stumble over his feet and get tangled up in the cane. God how he hated the thing.

He shuffled behind Kaidan who walked slowly to accommodate him; another irritation. Stubborn and too proud to admit it, the thought crossed his mind he should have just stayed in the skycar, let Kaidan shop in peace. Like a kindergartener, he probably needed a nap or Rip Van Winkle for twenty years. OR maybe a Snickers.

Lost in thought, he hadn’t paid much attention to what Kaidan put in the cart but as they checked out, he saw all of his favorites; the makings for homemade mac and cheese, steak, some kind of dessert. Knox’s heart soared at the same time he felt like a complete scrooge, biting the man's head off while he was doing everything to pamper him in spite of the rotten attitude.

"Thank you," he said as they walked back to the skycar. He shivered inside his leather jacket; the temperature had dropped since they’d left physical therapy.

"You're welcome, Knox. Always.”

Back at the condo, Kaidan unloaded the groceries, ordering Knox to go relax by the electric fire with the ambience of genuine crackling flames. This time he listened, wanting nothing more than to rest his leg and hip, still protesting from the session earlier. He all but sagged down to the couch - carefully - propping his leg on the coffee table and reached for a book he'd been reading about the Andromeda galaxy. He may not be up in space anymore but he could still read about it and Andromeda interested him, thinking of the arcs which had headed there. He missed the stars, the only place he’d ever truly felt at home.

Pulled from his thoughts by the sounds of Kaidan preparing a meal in the kitchen, for him, made Knox smile for the first time today. Okay, so the stars weren’t the only place he felt at home, not anymore.

Kaidan appeared as if summoned by his thoughts, carrying a large mug of hot tea. "Cinnamon and apple with a bit of honey."

Closing his eyes and inhaling the aroma, Knox took a sip, sputtering as the hot liquid burned his tongue. He nodded and responded with a coughed, "Perfect."

Kaidan chuckled, "Did you think it wouldn’t be hot?"

Grumbling, he told him, "Go back to the kitchen," but there was no heat in his tone.

"Yes, dear," the words were thrown over a shoulder with a laugh.

Knox sipped the tea carefully, enjoying the taste and the warmth spreading through him. Between the tea and the fire, he was beginning to feel drowsy. He hoped dinner wouldn’t take too long, he might fall asleep. His stomach growled loudly in disagreement.

A short time later, Kaidan came back with two plates piled high with homemade mac and cheese, green beans and medium rare steaks, handing one to him before taking a seat on the couch. They ate in a comfortable, companionable silence; something else Knox had never had but this was easier to accept than being cared for.

The warm, rich gooeyness of the mac and cheese was like a balm to his soul. Knox could understand why it was called 'comfort food.' Of course, the steak was good as well, seasoned perfectly and cooked just the way he liked it. He set the fork down on the plate and sighed with contentment.

A warm fire, a good meal and full stomach, a man who cared about him - even if he couldn’t voice how much he appreciated him like he should. Exhaustion pulled at him, a whisper in his ear to let go and tumble down into the void of sleep.

"Seconds or dessert instead?"

Knox snapped out of his stupor and stared at the empty plate in his lap as if it held the answer to the question. With no answer forthcoming, he made a choice, "Dessert."

"Should have known," Kaidan answered with a laugh. “You and your sweet tooth.” Grabbing the plates, he went back to the kitchen.

Knox couldn’t help finding sweets so appealing. Never having access to much food in general living on the streets, let alone anything sweet, he had become addicted. Saying no wasn't easy for him, though he had limits like everything else in his life, except books...and Kaidan, who came back in with one plate, handing it over before taking a seat. Knox moaned when he saw what it was - a thick, chocolate brownie covered in hot fudge and vanilla ice cream with a glass of cold milk.

“I can’t believe I just heard you moan over dessert with such abandon when you have me right here. What am I, chopped liver?”

Knox glared at him, which garnered a smirk in response. His brain sluggish, a thought occurred to him when he glanced back at the brownie, adorned with his favorite toppings. "Why only one? You're not having dessert?"

Usually, Kaidan ate along with him. They were still biotic after all, needing the calories even if they weren't jumping from one mission to the next anymore.

"I am, after you decide you can't eat another bite, which as you know happens often,” he teased.

This close, Knox noticed the laugh lines crinkling the corners of warm brown eyes; lips turned up in a soft smile, the scars stretched across them; wings of gray in the black hair at each temple...and was hit with a wave of love so strong, he nearly dropped his plate. The strength of the emotion blindsided him, leaving him breathless.

He glanced down at the brownie, not really seeing it at all, terrified of this unrestrained emotion. Control was at the center of his very being. Off balance and floundering, he took a bite of his dessert, one much too big, and nearly choked while trying to swallow it down. Kaidan reached for the glass of milk, thrusting it into his hand. Grasping it like a lifeline, Knox took a large drink...nearly choked again but it helped the brownie slide down and he was able to breathe again.

"You okay?" There was a note of concern in his voice.

"Y-y-" he coughed again to clear his throat, "Yes." He croaked, voice sounding raw.

Kaidan continued to stare at him, as if he didn’t quite believe it. But Knox took a few more bites of the brownie without any more catastrophes and as predicted, handed it over. The laughter in the brown eyes dispelled any remaining concern.

He moved, leaning back against Knox to get more comfortable, then cleaned the plate and set it on the table. It spoke volumes to his concern, when any other time, he’d take it into the kitchen. They remained like that for a while, basking in the warmth of the fire, Knox yawning first, then Kaidan, who snuggled down further. Soon, his upper body was resting against Knox’s legs.

“Does this hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The dark head turned, brown eyes gazing up at him, searching his face for a lie. Not finding one, he got comfortable again. Carefully, Knox placed his arm around Kaidan’s chest, letting it sort of...hang there. He was slowly becoming accustomed to touch but usually Kaidan was the one touching, not him. Yet, it felt right. Holding Kaidan, letting him be relaxed and cared for.

He thought, maybe, he should say something as he mulled over his earlier revelation, give voice to it...tell Kaidan how he felt. Out loud. But as he fought for words, opening his mouth to confess all, a soft snore came from the man lying across his legs.

A huff of laughter slipped from his lips. Of course, just as he made a momentous decision, the object of his speech had fallen asleep but this time, it happened in his arms.

#mshenko #mass effect #prompt writing #fluff #domestic fluff #I can't believe Knox let me write this #mallaidhsomo

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gimme-my-mammoney · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! AU Highschool - Prom Dates

Prom season is here and you have your eye on a certain classmate for your date. Will he ask you?

Lucifer ~

On the prom committee overseeing the budgets. Has to be the voice of reason so that the budget doesn’t end up being millions.

Tells you that you’re going to prom with him. He doesn’t give you a choice but you’re not mad about it.

Picks you up dead on the time he said he would. Flowers in hand (red roses).

Wearing an all black tux and shirt with a red bow tie. He wanted to match your dress.

You take his breath away and he isn’t afraid to tell you.

Spends the whole night proudly showing you off and never leaves your side.

Whispers how beautiful you are into your ear randomly throughout the night.

He’s an incredible dancer and gracefully leads you around the room. You feel like a princess.

Takes you out for an extremely fancy meal afterwards. He wants to make you feel as special as he can.

He’ll kiss you at the end of the night as if he’s been desperate to kiss you all night. You can tell he’s been holding back while in company but now you’re alone you’re given all of his passion in one long make out session.

Will call the next day to ask if you enjoyed yourself and assure you that it was the best night of his life.

Mammon ~

Was on the prom committee until he got thrown out for spending some of the budget on himself.

Only asks you to prom when he sees someone else about to do it. He shoves them away and tells them you’re going with him.

He’s a little late to pick you up and feels awful about it, even though it’s only ten minutes. He’s bought you the biggest bouquet that must of cost a fortune. They’re your favourite flowers too: he does listen - occasionally.

He goes bright red and starts acting stupid when he sees you. You’ve completely knocked him off his feet and now he’s nervous. It’s a good job you find it cute.

He’s wearing the most fashionable suit you’ve ever seen. It’s obvious he’s bought the best of the best to make sure he’s worthy of your arm. He’s given Goldie quite the workout.

He’s glued to your side all night and whenever someone talks to you he has to slide in (not so subtlety) that you’re here with him. It’s less possessive than usual and more in genuine awe you’re actually there together.

He can’t dance to save his life but it makes you laugh. He’s the life of the party and you’re both lighting up the room. He gets awkward and blushes when it comes to slow dances and awkwardly shuffles around the floor. He nearly falls when you lay your head on his chest as you sway.

He surprises you and takes you out for a fancy meal afterwards. It’s nice to spend time just the two of you. He relaxes more away from your classmates and you end up talking and laughing until it’s way past the time you should’ve been home.

You’re going to have to make the first move and kiss him. He stands around waiting for something to happen but goes a deeper shade of red with every passing second. Once you’ve made the first move it’s like he’s been awakened. He’ll keep demanding kisses and won’t want to leave you.

He’ll call first thing in the morning and wake you up. He’s reminding you how lucky you were to have gone out with the GREAT Mammon before muttering how much fun he had too. He’s an idiot but he’s your idiot.

Leviathan ~

Joined the prom committee just to ensure that ruri-chan’s music gets played.

You’re going to have to ask him to be your date. He can’t believe you’d go with a gross otaku like him. Are you sure?

He’s early to pick you up because he was so excited. He waits for you to finish getting ready and can’t stay still. He brings you a simple bunch of flowers that he’s obviously picked himself and they’re your favourite gift you’ve ever been given.

You get one of his signature ‘woooooaaahhh’s as soon as he sees you. He’s bright red and can’t stop stumbling over compliments he has for you.

He’s wearing a suit that looks a little awkward on him. He’s tried to be as formal as he can but you can tell he’s not comfortable in it. You loosen his tie and take it off, you’re not bothered about how he looks as long as you’re together. He relaxes a little more now.

He’s socially awkward so you spend a lot of time just the two of you. He’s cute when he’s nervous.

You have to force him to dance and you end up leading a little. It’s obvious he’s never slow danced before. Once Ruri-chan’s song comes on he transforms. He’s dancing like he’s at a concert and his joy is contagious.

He takes you for a meal afterwards because that’s what the forums said to do. He’s awkward again until you hold his hand over the table and talk about his favourite anime.

He awkwardly makes the first move and kisses you at the end of the night. Once he’s broke the tension he’s desperate to keep kissing you and gets a little more dominant. You’re a fan of this side of him.

He’ll text you straight after he’s left to ask if he did alright.

Satan ~

He’s the head of the prom committee (he got in there before Lucifer) and runs a tight ship.

He reads book after book on dates and is surprisingly nervous to ask you out. He does it with a huge sign and by blasting music in the hall.

He picks you up a minute late and kicks himself. He was debating whether to be on time or fashionably late: the books didn’t say which was better. He’s bought you some flowers and chocolates and awkwardly shoves them to you.

Once you’ve convinced him to calm down and not worry about doing everything right, he relaxes. He tells you how gorgeous you are and means it. He’s going to be bold and sneak his kiss in now and you’re not going to stop him. Breaking etiquette never felt so good.

He’s wearing a suit with a green bow tie and rocking it. He’s even styled his hair and is wearing your favourite cologne. He’s perfect.

He’s actually a social butterfly tonight. Something about your kiss seems to have changed him. He’s at peace with the world and seems genuinely happy. You can’t stop smiling. He holds your hand all night. Literally all night.

He’s desperate to dance with you, which takes you off guard. He can’t stop smiling and twirling you around the dance floor. Every time he pulls you close to him he takes the chance to tell you that you look beautiful.

Instead of a meal in a restaurant, he’s planned a nighttime picnic under the stars. You spend the rest of the evening cuddled up to him under a blanket as you star gaze and talk.

He kisses your hand as he drops you off before pulling you in for another love-filled kiss. He leaves with a smile and wink and your knees buckle.

He’ll ring you the next day to ask if you’re free for another date. Of course, you say yes.

Asmodeus ~

The prom committee is his territory. He’s king of themes, decorations, catering, and everything else you can think of. Asmo knows how to throw a party.

He throws a party to ask you to prom. It has the perfect photo opportunities so he can post about it on social media.

He wants to get ready with you. You spend the whole day together getting your hair and nails done. He’s all about making sure you feel glamorous. You’re pampered and beautified within an inch of your life.

He adores you in your dress and squeals with delight (before making a comment about ripping it off). You might actually look more beautiful than him tonight.

He’s the centre of attention and loves sharing the spotlight with you. He’s proud to be your date and gets a million pictures with you. You’re prom king and queen, obviously.

He’s a better dancer than you but makes sure that you don’t look ridiculous. He’s romantic and makes you feel adored.

He takes you for a meal with his big group of friends and their dates. It’s practically a second party. He sneaks you away so you can walk home together to talk and get some privacy.

He kisses every part of you he can: your shoulders, your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips. You can tell he’s been desperate to do it all night. It pains him to pull away and leave you but he does - right after he asked for a sleepover.

He’ll ring you the next day to ask you to come look through the pictures and help him decide which is best for his social media.

Beelzebub~

Joined the prom committee to make sure the catering was good. He was especially fond of the sampling day.

Spelled out “be my prom date?” In candy but at the last two letters while he was waiting for you to see it. He was mad at himself until you agreed to go and let him eat the rest of the candy. He still saved you one, though.

He turns up on time with flowers and a huge edible arrangement. You check it twice and, shockingly, he’s not eaten any of it. He wanted you to have it all. You agree to share it on the way to prom.

His tongue practically falls out of his mouth when he sees you. You’re not sure if he’s hungry for the food or for you anymore. He pulls you close and tells you that you look delicious and beautiful. He kisses your cheek.

He resists dashing straight to the buffet when you arrive and has pictures taken for you. You nod and let him rush to the food table. He returns with arms full of food and a plate for you too. He’s in a great mood and keeps pausing between mouthfuls to tell you that you’re beautiful.

Once a slow song comes on he stops eating and extends his hand to you. He sweeps you to the floor and holds you as close as possible. He’s not the most graceful dancer but he’s strong enough to whisk you around the dance floor like you’re dancing on air.

He takes you out for a meal afterwards and gets a special dessert made for you with your names in icing on the top. You’ve never seen him smile so much.

He carries you to your doorstep, bridal style. Once he’s put you down he leans down and kisses you softly but filled with love. Then he wraps his arms around you and lifts you off the floor, kissing you with more passion. Before he leaves he wraps you in a bear hug and tells you that he loves you.

He turns up at your house the next day to take you out for lunch. He’s missed you since yesterday.

Belphegor~

He’s part of the prom committee but falls asleep in every meeting.

Asked you to prom by giving you a giant teddy bear. It’s nice and cuddly and a perfect nap buddy.

He’s quite late to pick you up because he fell asleep. He also left your flowers at home in his rush to not be unforgivably late. You can’t help but laugh.

He’s wearing a stunning grey suit but his hair is messed up on one side where he’s been sleeping. You have to fix it for him before you can go.

His eyes pop out of their sockets when he sees you. He tells you that you look like a dream he once had about an angel.

He’s very touchy with you all night. He couldn’t get any physically closer to you. He manages to stay awake and loves listening to you talk.

When you slow dance it’s more like a swaying hug. You love how wrapped up in each other you are.

Afterwards, he takes you to a tent filled with pillows and blankets. There’s a projector screen up and you watch your favourite films with him. You both drift off and end up being extremely late home but you don’t care.

He asks you if he’s earned the chance to kiss you. You answer him by placing your lips on his and he holds you tightly.

He turns up at your doorstep the next morning, he had to bring you the flowers he forgot yesterday (and he just wanted to see you).

Diavolo~

He popped in to see the prom committee but was too busy being class president to join.

He got the cheerleader to hold up banners asking you to prom. Nearly the whole school stopped to watch him ask you.

He’s dead on time and collects you in the fanciest limousine you’ve ever seen. He’s bought you a flower necklace that goes perfectly with your dress.

He’s wearing a black shirt, white tie, and red blazer. He’s never looked so handsome.

He can’t stop smiling when he sees you and tells you that every other man is going to be jealous he got to come with you tonight. He carries you out the car and you can’t stop laughing.

He’s very popular but makes sure that you’re always included in conversation. He’s funny and you’ve never laughed so much. He’s full of life and you’ve never felt so safe and comfortable with someone.

He’s a great dancer and takes leading you round the dance floor very seriously. It’s hard being so close to him and not blushing. When he catches the blush on your cheeks he grazes over it with his thumb before kissing you in the middle of the dancefloor.

Afterwards he takes you to a fancy restaurant where he’s got a private room. You spend the whole time talking and laughing and having the time of your life.

He kisses you on the doorstep and you melt into his arms.

He calls the next day to ask if you enjoyed yourself. You end up being on the phone for hours.

Simeon~

He’s on the prom committee and is in charge of theme. ‘One night in heaven’ is the one he picks.

He turns up at your house to ask you to prom. Armed with flowers and his angelic smile he manages to win you over. It helps that he’s enlisted the school choir to serenade you while he asks.

He collects you in time in a white horse and carriage. He wants you to feel like a princess today. He’s brought you some white roses with little crystals in them. They’re the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen.

He’s wearing a white tuxedo that’s got a subtle glitter to it. Wonder how he achieved that subtle sparkle?

His face is alight with awe as soon as he sees you in your dress. You’re both glittering and all eyes will be on you tonight.

He spends the whole night talking to you about the most amazing topics. He loves poetry and music and can’t wait to get your opinions on his favourites. You go for a walk outside under the moonlight and talk for hours.

He dances like he’s flying. It’s effortless and graceful and it feels like you’re having to hold him down or he’ll take off.

He takes you for a meal but not inside the restaurant. He’s arranged for you to have it outside between trees dripping with fairy lights. He looks even more beautiful in their soft, twinkling light.

He kisses you so softly and so sweetly that now it feels like you might fly away. He leaves you feeling light headed and floaty, in the best sense.

He turns up at your doorstep the next day to bring you a necklace. It’s covered in sparkly stones. He says it reminded him of you last night and he had to give it you. You end up kissing him on your doorstep again.

Solomon ~

Has nothing to do with prom committee because the other members don’t trust him.

He asks you to prom with a gift of a promise ring. You gladly accept. People are shocked he’s asked you: he’s kind of the school bad boy. His arms are covered in strange markings that everyone’s sure are tattoos. They have to be, right?

He shocks you by being on time to collect you. He’s got a sleek black classic car for you to ride in. He gives you more jewellery as a gift.

He’s wearing all black, which makes his white hair seem more shocking than usual. He’s rolled his shirt and blazer sleeves up to his elbows, exposing the markings on his arms. He’s impossible to look away from.

He whistles as soon as he sees you in your dress. When you blush he tells you that you look cute and vulnerable, before taking your hand and guiding you to the car outside.

Everyone spends the whole night staring at you both but he doesn’t notice. He’s too busy watching you with a soft look in his eyes. He takes your hand randomly and kisses it, telling you that you’re stunning.

He slow dances with you and you’re surprised at how shy you are. He’s both powerful and intimidating, but also soft and safe, as he looks down at you and smiles. He’s swaying you and such a gentle rhythm that you start to relax into his arms.

You walk home after and get food from a truck. It’s lowkey but endearing. He talks to you the whole walk back and you find him fascinating. He’s extremely knowledgeable on myths and legends and you find yourself drawn into his stories.

He kisses you on the doorstep. With his arm leaning against the door behind you as he slowly leans in, giving you plenty of time to refuse him if you wish to. His lips are soft but something in the kiss seems to drag something out of you. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a more passionate kiss. He pulls away and chuckles, before kissing your hand and leaving with a wink.

You’ll call him the next day, to ask if he’s free. He’ll make himself available for you.

Thank you for reading! I thought I’d add some pictures to this one with it being my official return to this blog. I wanted to do something a little special. I got most of the dress images from google and Pinterest so credit to those who designed them and those who posted the original pictures. I did try to find the original posters to credit them but came up blank. If you own them and want crediting or want them removed, message me and I’m more than happy to do that. (I believe that some of them can be found on @evermore-fashion, so credit to a wonderful fashion blog that I am now following).

I hope you enjoyed this little AU and I’ll see you all soon! Love you 💕

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years

Note

When Jon think about wanting winterfell and it's Lord he felt hunger which he later connect with ghost's hunger. Do you think that passage is implying something?

Hi anon!

I think the passage has many layers when it comes to symbolism and foreshadowing.

ASOS, Jon XII is a fun chapter. Jon’s been through a lot. His trip North of the wall left him traumatized and disillusioned in a way that’s hard to sum up. Anything he had hoped to be proud of in life was obliterated, he suffered serious injury, has been separated from ghost, learned that all his family are dead or missing, fought a viciously cruel battle, feels responsible for the death of his stockholm-syndromy abuser, was stripped of all respect and honor by his superiors, and he got to see a woman die in childbirth. Now Stannis and Mel are squatting at Castle Black, and the threat to the North keeps looming.

Life sucks.

We’d been introduced to some options that were denied to him in life:

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. The plan would have required the Watch to yield back a large part of the Gift, but his uncle Benjen believed the Lord Commander could be won around, so long as the new lordlings paid taxes to Castle Black rather than Winterfell. "It is a dream for spring, though," Lord Eddard had said. "Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on."

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father's name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged. (ASOS, Jon V)

“If the boy shows any skill with sword or lance, he should have a place with your father’s household guard at the least,” Jon said. “It’s not unknown for bastards to be trained as squires and raised to knighthood. But you’d best be sure Gilly can play this game convincingly. From what you’ve told me of Lord Randyll, I doubt he would take kindly to being deceived.” (ASOS, Samwell IV)

One fails because of the seasons, the other was prevented by Catelyn. The Watch has been a soul-destroying nightmare, Ygritte’s offer of taking over a Tower “after” is not even worth a moment’s consideration to him. Every hope he ever had about his life has been disappointed.

Jon’s just about sixteen and is completely done. Sam notes how much time Jon spends in the training yard, even though he’s injured and off-duty for the title of turncloak. He does not bother voting in the Lord Commander election. A maligned outcast again. Forever.

The warg, I’ve heard them call me. How can I be a warg without a wolf, I ask you?” His mouth twisted. “I don’t even dream of Ghost anymore. All my dreams are of the crypts, of the stone kings on their thrones. Sometimes I hear Robb’s voice, and my father’s, as if they were at a feast. But there’s a wall between us, and I know that no place has been set for me.” (ASOS, Samwell IV

He is lonely. Even Ghost is gone, his one proof that he belongs to something.

Stannis alienates Jon by talking ill of Robb, but he offers Jon recognition for the things he did right, a rare thing, and then he offers him legitimization. Basically, “You proved your worth and you have the Right blood. All you ever wanted can be yours. For the small price of breaking your oaths for real and of your own volition and forsaking your gods.” Downright mephistophelian.

Jon is torn, can’t sleep, fights. For the first time he has a real choice. He remembers the traumatic incident where his bastardy became a true concept to him.

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he’d taken. (ASOS, Jon XII)

And Jon’s response is a near black-out rage against his sparring partner. All his suppressed feelings of grief and anger and longing and loneliness are just broiling inside him.

Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

Jon soaks in the hot tub and thinks of Winterfell, mulls restoring it versus not belonging and destroying its soul in the process

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said … but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods

The tree is almost described like a person. A person with Tully coloring, like all his siblings save Arya. Like Sansa. The hot springs in Winterfell have a potential link to his decision to join the Watch, or at the very least to his siblings in general. The castle of Winterfell is juxtaposed with the heart, with the purpose and point of it all. Save a structure by destroying what made it a meaningful place? Betray his family in his heart, the person whose castle is truly is, betray all his values and his gods?

He takes a walk past sites of all his recent experiences and North the Wall over the recent battle field and just sits to think.

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset.

There’s an essay I could write about walls, Tyrion, Jon and Sansa (the sun to Arya’s moon) and how they all interact in the books, but let’s say just like this word play, the fact that Jon answers his own question is not an accident:

"Close your beak, crow. Spin yourself around, might be you'd find who you're looking for."

Jon turned.

The singer rose to his feet. (ASOS, Jon I)

The singer rose. Lyanna, his mother, the riddle. But also Sansa, who unwittingly took up her mantle. One unlocks his path to the other and everything that follows in his imagination:

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

Jon paints a picture of recreating his own childhood with his wolf pack at Winterfell, only this time there are no outcasts, and he is the Father. He gets to be Ned. The Lord of Winterfell with a lady’s love. And a son, something he had, apparently, dreamed of until he stoppped.

He has always wanted this thing that he has no right to and it filled him with a guilt strong enough to concern the gods. But he admits it to himself, lets himself truly feel it. The feeling flows through him the same way the rage did earlier. powerful and all encompassing.

Like a dragonglass blade. There we have some lovely foreshadowing for a) potentiall the origin of the Others, b) Jon’s paternity, and c) his own death when his desire to abandon his vows and head to Winterfell is met with, you know, some blades. Not to mention d) his desire to have these things.

Each of these is answered by his primal hunger response. Which is of course, his connection to Ghost. The wolf he has so woefully said goodbye to, that he missed deeply and bitterly, chooses this moment to reappear. This moment where Jon returns to his own feelings, his true self.

a) the answer to the Others are the direwolves, the Starks, their magical connection to Winterfell and what happened way back when.

b) the answer to Jon’s paternity is a violent embrace of his mother’s side.

c) the answer to his own stabbing will be warging into Ghost and biding his time in there, becoming more wolf than he ever anticipated.

d) the answer to his heart’s desire...

It was a long moment before he understood what was happening. When he did, he bolted to his feet. “Ghost?” He turned toward the wood, and there he came, padding silently out of the green dusk, the breath coming warm and white from his open jaws. “Ghost!” he shouted, and the direwolf broke into a run. He was leaner than he had been, but bigger as well, and the only sound he made was the soft crunch of dead leaves beneath his paws. When he reached Jon he leapt, and they wrestled amidst brown grass and long shadows as the stars came out above them. “Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns.

Red suns. Arya’s wolf has golden coins (haggling for death, faceless men coins, spinning fates), Grey Wind has molten gold (like a crown that kills you).

Jon’s wolf has red suns. Like the colors that the sun painted on the Wall. The direwolf in heart tree colors, inverted bastard colors of house Stark, Tully colors, Sansa colors.

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then.

Not the red gods, not fire. The old gods. the heart tree, the wolves. He may be a Snow, but the old gods gave him Ghost. His own wolf. His white wolf. His place was made by their will.

There is honor in that choice. No matter what anyone else says, Jon knows who he is and he has that power: to reject betraying his heart.

How does this choice led by Ghost fit the layers?

a) The answer to the Others: don’t steal, don’t trick. Be honest. Accept what was painful. Not the Wall matters, the answer is in the heart tree.

b) The Dragon father does not Need to guide his decisions. He can let that go. He is a Snow.

c) Being in Ghost will lead him back to himself. Not fire, not Melisandre. The old gods.

d) Well... What does Jon want? What IS his answer?

Jon is filled with sudden energy. He strides back, rejects Val in his mind, stalks dramatically into the dining hall and is suddenly voted Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. We close on this:

So Jon Snow took the wineskin from his hand and had a swallow. But only one. The Wall was his, the night was dark, and he had a king to face.

Jon’s answer? We never hear it in this chapter.

We hear it in ADWD, Jon I:

"By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa."

And ADWD, Jon IV:

Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa."

The chapter is followed by? Sansa. Rebuilding Winterfell out of snow.

When Jon lets go of pretense, honestly asks himself what he wants, shame or not, his wolf takes over and helps him find the answer and the path. The answer is not in taking the Castle and creating a mimicry of what it was, it is in honoring what it truly was and truly means. The heart over the structure.

And in giving supremacy to the heart, to the red-white heart, he unknowingly paves the way for his own place: Winterfell built of Snow. He doesn’t have to steal the castle, he will be invited to belong.

That’s my own humble interpretation, anyway.

#asoiaf #jon snow #ASOS #Ghost the direwolf #asoiaf speculation #layered symbolism #foreshadowing #jonsa #Starklings

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crownedflora · 3 years

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holds his leaf. 'ur my friend now, we're having soft tacos later! :)'

Prior to that moment, the monster had been standing in place, staring off into the distance in utter silence. If one were to ask him for how long, he'd probably just give a shrug and a head tilt for an answer, but not before briefly thinking it over. Seeing how oddly unresponsive he was to someone just casually approaching him, though, they'd most likely have to bother with snapping the big oaf out of his current state first. Although it wasn’t entirely far-fetched for him to be distracted by something to the point of oblivion, the real strangeness came from the distinctive lack of contentment in his expression.

...Maybe he was just tired? Yeah, that’s gotta be it!

Regardless of the reason, it wasn’t until the familiar warmth of a human hand gently grasping onto his leaf that managed to finally free the flower from his trance. Soft head of petals and polka dots slowly turned to the owner of said hand, blank expression lighting up into a more inquisitive one. The human's words and warm smile managed to convince those currently-closed green-colored lips to curve ever upward. A promise of food and friendship? Anyone familiar with the simple flower with simple desires shouldn't be surprised by what happened next.

Responding to the rather sudden declaration with a happy hum and a light nod, the plant patiently awaited the shorter male to lead him elsewhere. ...That was mostly an assumption on the plant's part, though — what with a good chunk of the monster's hand-holding experiences generally dealt with guidance and separation prevention on top of whatever emotional aid the action provided for any involved — but if he just planned on providing him company for now, then the plant wouldn't object to that at all! Much like how he wouldn't object to the prolonged contact held between both leaf and hand either, as suggested by the way his leaf tenderly wrapped around the hand in response.

“ ...~ ♪ ” Though this feeling may not last for as long as he would like for it to, it’s still a pleasant one to experience.

#valiantcrcwn #Flower petal I am your black kettle and I bring a question just for laughs; (ask)#Stars stop the seasons... keep the green on my leaves; (ic)#v; endlessly hungry #W H O A . . . /SOLD!/#'...But when's 'later' tho??' Can guarantee you that's what he's thinking as well.#What's that? An elaborate plot for a potential proper collab about an attempt to invade another world (or something) gone wrong which leads #to a buncha minions being scattered about throughout all of Grastaea...? Nah-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh! THIS is how things start out instead!#Anyway! ...Finally... an eligible and willing candidate! -slowly reaches over to enable the romance and [OTHER STUFF] options-#Time for one of my favorite types of ships (while also satisfying several others of mine)!#Scrimblo Bimblo x Swordguy McJRPG (and/or other applicable adjacent types)!#Some will call it cringe. Others might call it cursed. And then another subgroup'll probably consider it crack.#BUT -- assuming the two of them actually head in that direction -- I LIKE TO REFER TO IT AS: well-needed self-gratification!#WELP brb taking a nap. Wake me up in 4 months so I can flip my activity over!

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jennaflare · 2 years

Text

tagged by @maderilien :D

rules: tag a few people you want to know better; make a new post, don’t reblog!

favorite color: Mustardy yellow or the green of leaves lit from behind

currently reading: The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery

last song: Genghis Khan by Miike Snow... I may be working on an izzy/ed playlist

last movie: What We Do in the Shadows

last series: Okay I mean technically? Black Sails because I was watching it during work today but in SPIRIT it's Our Flag Means Death because I was thinking about it the whole time I was watching bs and I have also watched it like. maybe seven or eight times now. oops.

sweet, spicy, or savory: Hard to choose... I love them all in turn. But in order of preference it'd probably go savory, spicy, sweet.

coffee or tea: Coffee! My sister and I probably spend too much money on good coffee and we grind it ourselves

three ships: Currently all that is rattling around in my head is ed/stede, ed/izzy, and olu/jim. I just keep rotating them in my brain like rotisserie chickens

first ever ship: Buffy/Spike and they STILL give me all the feelings, even though I hate Joss Whedon. Spike's love speech in season 7 is still one of my all time favorite TV love declarations. Star Wars is what got me into fic, but Spuffy is what got me into shipping.

currently working on: An Ed/Stede video set to His Status is... Preferred from crazy ex girlfriend. I also have too many ideas for izzy/ed videos and i just need to friggin PICK ONE

favorite piece of clothing: MY KIM KITSURAGI JACKET. It is so warm, flattering, and well made. Literally the nicest piece of clothing I own and pretty much the only jacket I wear now. I dread summer when I cannot wear it anymore.

comfort food: arroz con gandules, pasteles, tostones, korma, tom kha soup, nachos, ice cream, maduros. I'm already looking forward to Christmas so I can make arroz con gandules and drink coquito. and WHEN will the grocery store stock plantains again. i need them.

favorite time of year: Spring! When I lived farther south, I was big into fall and winter because the rest of the year was too hot. I still like fall, but i have a new appreciation for spring since it actually gets cold around here. Summer can fuck off <3

fav fanfiction: The Collision in Cardiozone HQ by glittermilk. The way they write Harry's skills, in particular the introduction of Esprit de Corps, is absolutely fantastic. I love the way young Harry and Kim interact and meet, and it's SO COOL how it's still set in canon so Harry just... forgets about him, like he does everything else. My friends had to demand I stop texting them lines from the fic because every single line is fucking hilarious. So so so good.

I always feel awkward about tagging people so??? do this??? if you want???? and let me see it :>

#text #about me

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dumbkiri · 4 years

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Hypnotic You

Second Series for Jason Todd

Request: Mixing up requests I got in submissions.

Summary: [Name] has to come to terms that she really isn’t a fighter yet. Her mother, Diana Prince, left her in the care of Batman to help [Name] fight or at least learn how. Jason and [Name] have been partners for a long time and he is her mentor. But that all changes when he requests to go back to his team, The Outlaws. [Name] feels that she is left behind and comes across a new friend.

But this new friend of hers is another enemy of the Justice League and a sworn enemy of her mother’s. [Name]’s body is resistant to some magic, but when Hecate awakens her godly form, is she able to control her dormant powers?

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

Genre: Mystery, Drama, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k, 6 pgs

WARNING(S): NONE???

The sun shined brightly onto Gotham City providing light and warmth in the cold season of Winter. The snow that piled up from last night's storm was gradually melting under the bright star. And [Name] witnessed the frost on her living room windows going away.

She watched her neighbors do their daily routine of mowing their luscious green grass. Their kids had the job of taking out the trash and recycling. The mother would usually watch on holding their newborn baby or she was wiping her hands on a dish rag. [Name] turned away from the normal scene and glued her eyes on the TV.

"In Today's news, Batman and Robin had stopped another criminal last night. Despite the storm, the caped vigilantes stopped the Riddler from robbing one of Gotham's finest jewelry stores. The Riddler is now being sent to Gotham--"

[Name] turned the TV off knowing that the Riddler would just escape again from wherever he's being sent to. She stayed on her couch for a while and enjoyed snuggling with her warm blanket that she got out of the dryer. Her eyes closed in happiness and she began to wonder in her land of dreams. That was until there was a knock at her front door.

She grumbled in annoyance and got up from the couch. [Name]’s sock covered feet carried her to the door and she opened it with a kind smile. There standing on her porch was her best friend and partner, Jason Todd. He was wearing his signature red hoodie with black jeans and black adidas. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie and sighed, “Are you gonna invite me in?”

[Name] snapped out of her trance and opened the door more to let him in. She watched as he relaxed and walked into her house. He took his shoes off by her door where her own shoes were placed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked and walked in front of him to stop him from entering her kitchen.

“I’m hungry,” He responded and took his hands from his hoodie. He placed his cold fingers on her exposed waist and moved her aside. [Name] recoiled from his touch and giggled, “You should warm your hands up. Oh, I’ll make you hot chocolate!”

Jason stayed silent and watched [Name] run into her kitchen. He chuckled when he saw that she struggled to reach her mugs on the top shelf. But after a few seconds, she managed to get them. “I said I was hungry, not thirsty,” Jason grumbled and sat in the barstools at the kitchen island. [Name] stopped pouring the hot chocolate and looked at him, “Do you not want any?”

“Let’s go grab a bite.” Jason asked suddenly.

“Are you asking me out to eat breakfast with you?” [Name] looked at him questioningly.

Jason sighed and walked over to her. He grabbed the mug filled with hot chocolate topped with cool whipped cream. He took a sip and relished the hot drink entering his freezing body. “I am asking you to eat breakfast with me,” He replied after setting the cocoa down on the granite counter.

[Name] smiled and grabbed a napkin from the kitchen island. She wiped Jason’s mouth to get rid of the whipped cream. She made eye contact with the male and laughed, “Yes, I’ll go eat with you, Todd, so stop your glaring.” [Name] walked away and threw the napkin into the trash. “Gimme five minutes to get dressed.”

It took her longer than five minutes to get dressed, but Jason wasn’t going to ruin her perfect mood. He looked at her outfit and he took notice how she wore gloves and a scarf. “What?” [Name] interrupted his thoughts and placed her hands on her hips, “I’m not going out there freezing my butt off like you, okay?”

Jason raised his hands up and looked away, “I wasn’t going to say anything about your fashion choices. It’s a smart idea to bundle up, I don’t want anybody blaming me if you get sick.”

“You really do care for me,” [Name] softly said and Jason scoffed, turning to the front door. He opened it and walked out. He was going to ignore her comment about how he felt toward her. Jason wasn't’ sure himself. There were days he wanted to shoot her because of her rash decisions of saving a petty criminal. Yet there were days he had the strong urge to protect her from those petty criminals. “I’ll buy breakfast!” [Name] shouted as she locked her front door.

……

“The reason why I brought you here was because we need to talk,” Jason lit a cigarette and before he could inhale the deadly toxins, [Name] was quick enough to snatch it from him.

“Smoking isn’t allowed in here and I want to enjoy my breakfast before we get kicked out.” She smiled at him kindly.

Jason grumbled under his breath as he watched the female put out the cigarette in her empty glass half filled with ice. He crossed his arms over his chest and began speaking, “I requested that we change partners or back to our original teams. Now I don’t want you to interrupt me because I need you to listen to my reasons.” Jason’s blue eyes connected with her [e.color] eyes.

[Name] remained quiet waiting for his reasons. She stopped messing with the crayons she got from the host and paid Jason her undivided attention.

“I feel as though I need to work with my team, The Outlaws, more than Batman’s sidekick. Roy said he needs some help with the team and that they’re breaking without my leadership. I am also needed on higher stake missions and not burglars who steal money from an ATM.”

“He didn’t just steal money from an ATM. He was stealing from homeless people!” [Name] whispered-yelled. She was a bit frustrated about Jason’s choice.

“Hey, I told you to not interrupt me,” Jason scolded and continued his explanation. His stare softened and his body slowly relaxed into a vulnerable state. “I’m needed with my team, [Name]. I helped you with a lot of your training and I believe you already make a fine Batgirl. You don’t need me anymore.”

“Yes, I do,” [Name] spoke up, not caring that she didn’t let him finish, “You help me make those hard decisions. You sometimes influence me, but most importantly you make me decide what I want to do. I never really had that choice with Batman and Robin. You help me a lot in those times, in our missions.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, “Those aren’t missions, [Name]. I get it, you entered the fighting scene a little too late. But what Batman has us doing, what he has you doing is nothing compared to what I used to do with my team. We take down guys like Sionis. We take down actual criminals with dangerous agendas.”

[Name] felt small in her seat.

“And to be frank, I’m tired of dealing with those petty criminals. I want the real deal. I want to go back to my team,” Jason finished.

[Name] swallowed the lump in her throat, “Then be with your team, Jason. No one is going to stop you.”

Jason stared at her and was baffled by her response, “You-- Why are you not stopping me?” He was 100% positive that she was going to throw a royal fit. But here she was surprising him.

[Name] pushed her plate of food away from her kid’s menu. She grabbed a red crayon and began doodling. Her attention was divided now and it was because she needed a distraction. She could no longer stare in his gunmetal eyes anymore. “You said you needed your team and that they needed you. Why would I stop you if you want to leave?”

“I don’t know, I thought you would have put up a bigger fight. It’s what you would usually do.” Jason replied back and watched her aimlessly draw on her kids menu. He didn’t know what she was trying to draw and honestly he didn’t care. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly looked at who was calling him. It was Roy Harper.

[Name] pretended she wasn’t looking, but she noticed how Jason didn’t hesitate to answer the call. She put her crayon down and raised her hand in the air to call the waitress. Their waitress came by with a pretty smile. “Can I have the check please?” [Name] warmly asked with her own smile. The waitress nodded her head and handed the check to which [Name] handed back cash. “Keep the change.”

Jason watched [Name]’s interactions with the waitress carefully. He noticed the front she was putting up. After all, he spent a long time with her to notice how she was doing. He focused back on the call and listened to Roy’s words. Apparently, Sionis was still in the game while in prison. It meant that the criminal had connections inside the prison to make deals outside. Jason wanted to shoot himself twenty times right about now.

[Name] waited patiently for Jason to end the call, so they can have a proper goodbye. It was rude to leave while he was on the call, but it was also rude to answer the phone when he was having a conversation with her. Yet [Name] didn’t have the confidence to communicate with him. It wouldn’t matter anyways because they were no longer going to work together. Maybe that is why [Name] felt so sad. She was growing attached to the male even if they did have their downs.

“I got it, Harper,” Jason said with the roll of his eyes, “We’ll talk about it more later and plan from there. Alright, see you guys later.” He ended the call and gave a curt nod to [Name]. “Roy called about--”

[Name] waved him off and laughed, “Spare me the details and go get the bad guy.”

Jason sighed and gestured to her with his hands, “You’re mad.”

“I’m upset,” [Name] truthfully said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her eyes were downcasted to examine her scramble of a drawing. “I thought of us as a team, you know? So being sent back to a dynamic duo like Batman and Robin kind of makes me feel-- I don’t know,” [Name] laughed and looked up at him. She waved her hands side to side, “I don’t know what I’m talking about now, my words are going to be scrambled soon if we keep talking.”

[Name] put her wallet back in her purse and flipped the straps on her shoulder. She was collecting her things. She scooted to the edge of the booth and stood up, “But thank you for teaching me the ropes and other important things. I’ll catch you on the flipside.” [Name] turned her back on Jason and hurried to exit the restaurant. She was really digging herself into a hole back there.

“Catch you on the flipside? God, what was I thinking?” [Name] scolded herself and lightly hit the side of her head with her palm. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” She helplessly muttered as she walked further away from the restaurant. [Name] walked past some people going about their business and easily dodged the shoulders of people not paying attention to their surroundings. She was surprised that she was able to notice the people around her when her mind was plagued with questions.

At this point, [Name] wanted to be home and enjoy her hot chocolate for real this time. If Jason really requested for her to go back with Batman then the caped crusader will call her if she soon. "I should go pick up Blue from the pet store. Ah, I forgot my poor baby had an appointment today,” [Name] hailed a taxi and got into the backseat while telling the driver where to go.

“Rough mornin’, miss?” The taxi driver asked looking into the rearview mirror.

[Name] gave him a small smile, “You can say that.”

The taxi driver whistled with his clapped lips. They seemed to bleed a little meaning that he was picking at the skin of his bottom lip recently. “The storm must have hit yer area hard or somethin’ if ya ain’t smilin’. The kids ‘round here are havin’ a field day! Throwin’ snowballs and jus’ havin’ some normal fun! Ya should join ‘em, put a pretty smile back on ya face, y’know?”

“I will when I pick up my dog from his appointment. Blue would love the snow and I’m sure the kids would love him,” [Name] replied looking out the window. She watched the buildings she recognized pass by with a blur. Then she averted her attention to the taxi driver. She noticed a purple ring surrounding his irises before it disappeared.

The taxi driver cleared his throat and clenched the steering wheel tighter, “He must've really hurt yer feelings.”

“Excuse me?” [Name] swallowed and stared at the man with a new sense of curiosity and suspicion. She scooted to the edge of her seat and asked again, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said he must’ve hurt yer feelings. Especially if ya have that sad look in yer eyes like someone ran o’er yer dog. What’s his name?” The taxi driver tilted his head to the side and a large pop resonated in the taxi.

Uncomfortable, [Name] leaned her back into the cushion of her seat. Her lips parted in uncertainty, “He’s only a friend and there’s no reason for you to know his name. You’re a stranger.”

“I’m more than jus’ a stranger, darlin’,” The taxi driver answered quickly. The car came to a stop and [Name] opened the door. She almost forgot to pay the man, but he stopped her with a creepy smile on his face.

“No need to pay me, girl,” He said and leaned over the passenger seat, “I want ya to know somethin’.”

[Name] got out of the car and closed the door. She bent down to listen to him talk though. She didn’t know why she was staying any longer with this weirdo. Yet her curiosity wasn’t quenched, not now. “She’s always watchin’ ya. Said somethin’ about awakening yer true potential.”

“Thank you for the ride, sir,” [Name] dismissed his words and ran into the pet store where she felt somewhat safe. She picked her phone from her purse and dialed Jason’s number hoping he would pick up as quickly as he did for Roy. It rang twice then went straight to voicemail. Might as well tell him what happened to her.

“Hey, Jason, I called to tell you the strangest thing that happened to me. This taxi driver gave me the weirdest ride ever. I-- He knew that I talked to you? Actually, he doesn’t know you, but I don’t know. It was the oddest thing that’s ever happened. He knew what I was feeling. I mean he knew-- Whatever, just give me a call back?” She said with nervousness, “He said someone was watching me. I have to hear some advice from you.”

She ended the call there and perked up at her dog barking happily. She hoped that the taxi driver was only crazy and that what he said wasn’t true. [Name] has enough to worry about.

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

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94 for sternclay for the winter prompts??? Especially if trans stern because I love that for him:’) either nsfw or sfw, hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! Your writing is a gift

Thank you so much! I went with NSFW, and Stern is indeed trans.

94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before

The things he does to pay for culinary school.

It’s not the catering gig that’s bothering him; he takes pride in making food at conferences and office parties better than expected. It’s the fucking red, white, and green uniforms they’re making them wear for this one. It’s hot, itchy, and he really would prefer to wear the winter sweater Thacker gave him last year. It’s rustic but festive. It’s also sitting in his car, because no one told him about these uniforms until he got here.

You can’t spring a surprise uniform on a guy who’s 6’4 and 190 pounds. The vest digs into his stomach, the jacket is too tight, and the pants don’t cover his ankles.

It’s too bad, this party is pretty fun to work. It’s for a big-name publisher looking to seem hip, so the band is good and the decorations don’t look like the Macy’s Parade puked all over the room.

The meals aren’t sit down, more a five hour cocktail party with canapes on trays and a spread of food at the back. Barclay sets out a new plate of crostini, wondering if they have enough fruit for the evening, when someone taps his shoulder.

“How can I help-”

“I need a refill.” James, his ex, smirks at him.

“Not the bartender.” Barclay picks up the empty tray.

“So?”

“I stopped being the guy to refill your drinks when you dumped me. Go ask whatever poor sap you dragged to this to do it for you.”

“Poor sap? Barclay, you sound like one of those boring mysteries you always read.”

“I’m trying not to swear, I’m at work.”

“Too bad you left me-”

“You broke up with me”

“-You could be enjoying the party instead of serving lukewarm food in a ridiculous outfit. Then again, looking like a clown suits you.”

“Man, c’mon.” Barclay can’t get into it here, James is absolutely the kind of guy who will use it to get him fired.

“Not surprised you haven’t found someone who wants to put up with your whole puppy-dog routine. What good is all that bulk if you’re just a pus-”

“There you are.” An arm snakes around Barclays waist and he freezes. James stands up straight, plastering on a smile.

“I wish I’d know ahead of time this is where you were working tonight. It feels wrong to be out mingling when you’re stuck back here. Oh well, next year.” A soft kiss lands on his cheek and in his surprise he turns to look at it’s source.

The man is almost his height, trimmer and dressed in a black suit with a blue and silver tie. He’s blue eyed, with jet black hair slicked back and a face that puts every movie star Barclay can name to shame.

Barclay has no fucking clue who he is, or if he’s mistaking Barclay for someone else. He doesn’t seem drunk enough for that.

“Mr. Stern, it’s an honor to meet you, I, uh, this-”

“This must be the ex you told me about, right, big guy?” Mr. Stern sets a protective hand at the small of his back.

“Uh, yeah. Babe, this is James.”

“So, where at Penguin do you work?”

“I, um, oh, look, someone is calling me. Bye, Barclay, nice seeing you again.”

The hand doesn't leave his back until James is out of sight.

“I’m sorry. He was harassing you and that seemed like the fastest way to make him stop.” Mr. Stern is still standing proud, but his voice is now softer, almost shy.

“That’s, uh, that’s totally fine. I really appreciate the help. Kinda surprise you saw flirting as more appealing than, like, pretending to be my boss or something.”

“He’d know I wasn’t, trust me. And don’t sell yourself short, Barclay.” Blue eyes lock onto him and scan all the way to his feet, “even a bad fitting uniform can’t hide what you have you offer.”

“Th-thanks.” He’s either going to hide behind the serving tray or ask this guy to take him home and he’s not sure which will reinforce Jame’s “puppy dog” taunt more.

The other man, sensing his discomfort, steps back, “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know better than to flirt with someone who’s at work and can’t escape. I shouldn’t keep you from doing what you need to do.”

“I get off at nine.” He thwacks the tray over his mouth, “ow. Uh, and I don’t mind talking to you. If you want to. I, uh, I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend this whole party chatting with the help instead of having fun.”

A sigh, “I should go mingle. It’s really okay if I come back?”

“Yeah.” Barclay smiles. There’s no way this guy is coming back; if he’s here single, he’ll have a date in the next five minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing a respectful distance away and asking Barclay how this compares to other parties he’s worked.

“Middle-ground. It’s not the one time I got to work my friends art gallery opening, and it’s not the wedding where someone tried to deck the bride with the chocolate fountain.”

“Oh my lord.”

“I was in the line of fire and was washing chocolate out of my beard for an hour.”

“No one at home to do it for you?” It’s not subtle, and nor is the glance he gets over the rim of a cocktail glass.

“Some things I’d rather not ask Mama’s help on.”

“You still live with family?” There’s no judgement in that smooth voice, just genuine curiosity.

“Oh, no, Mama’s my...I mean she’s technically my boss but she’s also my friend, almost like an older sister. I live above where I work because she owns the whole building and takes in staff rent-free when she can. It’s nice working at her place, since I can cut my hours doing this.” He gestures to the nearby table of season fare, “which does mean I missed the attempted kabob-maiming last week. Relatedly, I’m happy this isn’t an all you can drink party.”

“You and me both. Two years ago Dean Koontz threw a punch. I think it was--oh, um, excuse me, work calls.”

This time, Barclay allows himself a moment of ogling as Stern walks away.

They pick up where they left off when the other man comes back, leading Barclay to mention he’s a cook at Amnesty Lodge .

“Wait, really? I love the Lodge, the food there is incredible.”

Barclay’s skin matches his terrible red pants, “Thanks. The head chef has been letting me do more of the menu and I’m really proud of it.”

“You should be. It’s perfect, although it’s a pity you being in the kitchen means I haven’t seen you sooner.”

He tries to say thank you again, but it comes out a garbled squeak

“Was that too far?”

“Nope. Uh, it’s uh, just that I’m out of practice flirting or, like, getting compliments. They were pretty thin on the ground in my last relationship.”

“I see.” He’s learning to watch Stern’s eyes rather than the rest of his face, which hardly ever changes from it’s calm, professional set. Said eyes drip with disapproval.

Old habits of defending people--even ones who are dicks to him--kicks in, “I mean, he kind of has a point. No one wants to date a six foot puppy. Guys like me are supposed to be all in-charge and shit like that.”

Stern raises an eyebrow, “maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Got any ideas on where I, uh, should be looking?” He takes a half-step towards Stern, standing up straighter. Stern doesn’t move an inch, but gives him a proud smirk. The pride is directed at Barclay.

“Lots. And I’ll share them as soon as you’re off the clock.”

“Don’t I even get a hint?” Another step.

“No, Barclay, you don’t. You’ll just have to show me you can be patient.” His tone changes, laced with the promise of a hidden prize that Barclay will do anything to earn.

He just manages to whisper out “okay” as Stern is called away again. When he comes back, Barclay setting out clean plates and more silverware. They talk about restaurants, about Barclay’s friends and all the ways he tries to help them. Barclay endeavors to not go into full begging mode in public by looking at Sterns wrists rather than literally anywhere else on his body.

“What are those things in your cufflinks?”

“The Hodag. It’s a cryptid from Northern Wisconsin, and a really excellent example of completely fabricated cryptid that nevertheless goes on to have a life of it’s own. It’s very common in small towns, since if it goes well it acts a tourist draw. In fact, there’s some indication that even the Loch Ness Monster began as just such a hoax and-” He snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, “sorry, I try not to talk shop at these things. It, um, tends to get on people’s nerves.”

“But I wanted to hear the rest. I mean, I have a high info-dumping tolerance because of one of my friends, but also you clearly know your stuff and I have no clue about any of it so please keep talking?”

Stern’s face is full of excitement, and he grows more animated as he talks. It’s the cutest goddamn thing Barclay’s ever seen, and he saw Dr. Harris Bonkers, his friend’s rabbit, as a baby bunny in a bow-tie.

He clocks out two minutes after nine, and Stern is waiting for him near the doors to the staging room.

“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”

“No. I have nicer stuff in the car that I planned on wearing.”

“Go get it. Here, I’ll walk down with you so you won’t have trouble getting back in the building.”

After jogging to his car while Stern waits for him in the gold and silver tinseled lobby, the older man guides him to an elevator. He’s pretty sure Stern is older than him; he’s a big deal, but not in some sort of prodigy way, which means he needed some time to get so well-known.

They’re so busy coming up with Cryptid-themed ice cream flavors that Barclay doesn’t notice the floor number until they step out into a darkened hall.

If Stern brought him up here so they could have a quick fuck, he’ll jump for joy.

“My office is this way. I figure you might like changing not in front of your co-workers or in a bathroom.”

Damn it, why does he have to be considerate instead of horny?

The office Stern brings him to is modestly sized with a huge bank of windows on the one side, facing out over the city. From here he can see apartments, stores, restaurants, all lit up in festive colors, trees dotting the little boxes of light.

Stern locks the door, leans back against it, and nods at the clothes in Barclays arms, “Put them on.”

“Here?” He eyes the wide windows, the fact that the other man makes no move to leave or turn around.

“Yes.”

He manages, around the heart trying to hammer up his throat, “Are, uh, are you gonna watch?”

“Do you want me too?” There it is, the immediate softness in his voice, and Barclay understands that if he says no, he’ll have his privacy.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He reaches for the vest, gets the first button and goes for the second in a hurry.

Stern raises his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, “Slow down.”

“Yes, yes Mr. Stern.”

A gentle laugh, “Not quite, big guy. Were we anywhere else, I’d tell you to call me Joseph. But here..” he tucks his hands casually into his front pockets, “here you call me sir.”

“Fuck” Barclay battles himself to keep his pace slow, needing to be good but also so turned on he’s afraid he’ll start humping the furniture. He forces himself to wait a count of two between each button, gets his vest and shirt off without further instruction. Stern watches him the entire time in silent appreciation. His shoes and pants are more awkward to take off while standing, and he braces himself on the desk, not wanting to sit without permission.

Then he’s standing there in nothing but his black boxers and the lights of town, laughter floating from the party while Stern studies him like a menu.

“Fold every and set it on the chair.”

He follows orders, boggles at getting hard from someone telling him to fold laundry. Jesus, Stern hasn’t even touched him. Is he even planning to? Barclay can’t decide which option he likes better. He returns to his spot in front of the desk, hands folded in front of him.

“Should I, uh, get dressed, sir?”

Stern pushes off the door, walking casually over like a shopper regarding a display, “That depends; do you want to do back to the party with your cock hard enough to hammer nails?” He glances down, then back up with a pointed stare.

“N-not really.”

Stern raises an eyebrow.

“Not really, sir.”

“Then we’ll have to do something about it.”

“Are you sure we should do it here?”

“Barclay, if we get caught, I’ll be twice as mortified as you. I’m only doing this because we’ve got this whole floor to ourselves.” He cups Barclay’s cheek and the sighs, rubbing his face against a warm palm.

“Okay sir, I trust you.”

A moan curls up between them as Stern’s other hand runs along his chest.

“Good boy. You like to be good, don’t you, Barclay? You like taking care of people?”

“Yes, so much sir, please, lemme be good to you.”

Joseph strokes his face, “That’s very thoughtful, Barclay. But I think it’s been awhile since someone took care of you. Would you like me to do that?”

“Please, sir.” The response is pulled from him, one of the many parts of him aching magnetically to be near to Stern.

The other man shoves his right hand down Barclays boxers, sliding his thumb over the head once before stroking steadily up and down.

“Holy fuck” Stern gasps, “a guy could have a lot of fun with this thing.”

“It’s all yours, sir.”

Fuck, where did that come from?

Stern groans, tips his head to kiss across Barclays chest, murmuring as he does, “Is that what you want, Barclay? You want this” he speeds up until Barclay’s hands fly to the edge of the desk, keeping him from dropping to the floor, “to be mine?”

He whines, nodding.

Stern’s hand stops.

“Yessir”

It starts up again, “what else do you want, big guy?” He’s still kissing all over his upper body, tone nonchalant.

“You, sir, I wanna fuck you or, or you can fuUUUck me if you want, not very good at bottoming-”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Stern lightly pinches his nipple, “what else?”

“I want to blow you, and, and FUCK, I bet you’re a fucking great kisser and I want you to fucking boss me around as much as you want, wanna wear a collar, a blue one, ohfuck” Barclay scrapes his nails along the woodgrain, “fuck, sorry, that was weird-”

“No, say more” his grip tightens and to Barclay’s surprise he’s panting, “tell me everything you want, even it’s got nothing to do with sex.”

“I want, fuck, to be tied up and told how good I am, want to wear something stealth sexy out in public, want to fuck in a cabin” his mouth is fully ahead of his mind, which is concentrated entirely in his dick right now, “want to eat at every five star place in the city, want to drag you places by that fancy tie, have a new car, buy any cookbook I see, I want, oh fuckohfuck, sir, I wanna cum please, want to so bad.”

“You can cum whenever you like, big guy. But you have to kiss me while you d-”

He cuts Stern off with a kiss, clinging to his shoulders and pouring desperate, deep sounds down his throat. Stern kisses back with precision and a pleased moan when Barclay cums in his boxers.

Stern eases his hand out and Barclay flops against him, face buried in his neck as he rumbles out a thank you.

“D-do you want me to blow you, sir?”

Stern kisses below his ear, “Yes, but that’s not doable right now. Unlike you, I don't have a change of clothes, and something tells me you’re a, um,” he bites Barclays ear, “messy eater.”

“Only when I’m enjoying myself, sir.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, unless it helps you come down.”

“I’m okay, Joseph. Heh” he smiles, inhales a minty cologne, “I like that name. It’s classic.”

“Thanks, I picked it myself.”

Barclay chuckles, snuggles closer while ignoring the sticky underwear.

“You know, I can give you everything you want. If you want me to.”

“Some of those are really fucking expensive, babe.”

“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” Stern steps back, moving to the other side of the desk and pulling out a packet of wet-wipes, sliding one across to Barclay before cleaning his hands.

“A really cute guy who should let me take him to dinner?” Barclay pulls down his underwear to clean the cum from his stomach.

“Ever heard of Lucky Park?”

“No fucking way. I man, I know it’s a pen name, but there’s no fucking way, a guy who’s never off the NYT Bestseller list wouldn't fuck a nobody cook.”

“If the cook was hot and interesting to talk to he would. The kitchen skills help a little.” Stern winks

“But you wrote The Peregrine Quintent, and Red Dust, jesus christ your stuff has been movies.”

“Now you see why James was so startled; I’m Penguins golden goose. That’s why I even have time to write books on cryptids; they know to indulge me. Plus I put out at least a book every two years for them and it always makes a fortune. Do you need to sit down? You look kind of lightheaded.”

“I’m fine, uh, just trying to make sense of it all. Also I can’t sit down unless you want my bare ass on your chair.”

“Another time. I guess you’re going commando for the rest of the party, but I think you can handle it, big guy.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on, “holy fuck, this can’t be real, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Barclay” Stern touches his arm, “it absolutely makes sense. I had so much fun talking with you, you’re such a, um, a sweetheart. And you’re built like a wet dream. If, um, if this is too much too soon, tell me to back off but I, I’m serious. I can’t remember the last time I got butterflies like this around someone, or wanted to buy things or do things just to make them smile. You clearly look after so many people in your life; will you let me look after you, at least for a little while?”

“You really want to?”

“Unlike some people, I like big men with a gentle center. You can be my six foot puppy any time. Wait, hold on, that, um, that came out weird.” Stern giggles and Barclay, now dressed, pulls him into a kiss.

“I get it, babe. You wanna go show me off?”

“Of course. I’ll get my camera ready; we have to record your exes reaction.” Stern kisses his cheek, “after all, maybe this will teach him to know a good man when he sees one.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #author au #pre-sugar daddy au #winter fills #taz amnesty

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the-river-person · 3 years

Text

Worldbuilding Tangent Part 2

First bit here. Now I wanna talk about the Forest and Snowdin Town. Obviously the name is a pun based on Snowed in. But why is there snow there? They’re underground. It shouldn’t work like that. This one is gonna be a bit long because I’m prone to rambling, but I had fun... so yeah. (Also, a reminder that these are my own observations and analysis of the Game’s text and that despite my obsessive researching of caves and such, as well as my attention to textual evidence, it is still only my interpretation of how this area MIGHT work if we attempt to apply real world systems to a video game world that was almost certainly not made with reality in mind. It’s also possible that I misunderstood or don’t know enough about the trees or natural systems described and that things couldn’t work that way without some kind of magic, whether that of the Monsters or some natural source of it.) I’ve heard some theories about snow falling through openings in the mountain above them, and while I do think such openings exist, they aren’t likely to be the direct cause of the snow. This is because snow falling through them would need to be in single spots or piles directly beneath the hole and not evenly spread out like a winter wonderland. A second bit of evidence for this is that when we go to fight Papyrus, or in fact pass through that exact spot even later in the game, we are subjected to a fade out screen with a snowy pattern, which is implied to be a snowstorm of some kind. So some kind of weather exists here Underground. This lets us know that the specific cave Snowdin sits in is big enough to have its own weather system which gives everything a fairly even level of snow, freezes ponds into patches of ice, and coats the pines of the forest with a dusty white. When you first exit the ruins and have the purple stone wall behind you, there appears to be a thick forest of trees on on both sides, the right side appearing to be a drop off until you pass trees that go between screen and controllable character, indicating that this side has the same trees as the opposite side of the path. The trees of this part of the forest have no hint of green leaves or needles on them, which might suggest that they be high up on the tree itself. After some research on trees that could survive very cold temperatures and were fairly hardy but still seemed to match the image I see on screen, I’m guessing that these are either a fictional species of conifer, or they are White Spruce Trees which have lost their lower branches as their upper branches grew thicker to catch any sunlight streaming from holes and openings in cave ceiling. It is possible that these trees might be petrified and very old, but its unlikely as we see ordinary pines growing elsewhere in the Forest. There has to be natural openings for light enter into the Underground which are not enough for someone to see stars through, yet are big enough or plentiful enough that light for the forest to survive is possible. Due to the river we see in this part of the forest there is plenty of water for the trees to survive. Since there is no tree in the world that can survive a permanent winter, and no new trees can grow without some kind of melting of snow and ice, we are left with a few options. Either the trees are very old, which is possible since the average age of White Spruce is 250-350 years but trees up to 1,000 years have been found, or Snowdin Forest area has some kind of seasonal cycle with a very short warm season and a long cold season. However there are some problems with the idea of a cycling season. We know in the books of Snowdin Library this passage is found, “Fearing the humans no longer, we moved out of our old city, HOME. We braved harsh cold, damp swampland, and searing heat... Until we reached what we now call our capital. “NEW HOME.”” By which we know that the different biomes of the Underground existed before the Monsters lived there and are not a result of their magic. And though none of the Monsters we’ve seen actually require a permanent cold environment to survive, there is no mention at all of a warm season. Even the name of the area and the town is Snowdin, indicating that the snow is probably perpetual. So our cave must be big enough to have a weather system yet cold enough to maintain snow and ice for a long time even with openings in the roof for a Taiga Biome forest to survive. Ice Caves are naturally occurring cave systems that reach cold enough temperatures to form Ice and Permafrost. Several factors can cause or contribute to the formation of Ice caves. Two relevant types of these are Evaporative Cooling and a Cold Trap. Because the trees we see had to have had a period without snow and ice in order to spread their seeds and begin to grow before the eternal Winter of Snowdin, we can probably guess that at one point this cave was quite warm. It had a significant amount of water, though it was unlikely to be as wet as Waterfall. It was also home to mountainous areas and vast lowland areas as well as mostly limited sunlight. The Cavern was big enough to contain a weather system of its own, allowing for rain and humidity. Since we know that to reach the entrance to Snowdin Forest in the game we have to go down the stairs in Toriel’s home, this puts the First section of the forest at the same level as the ruined city we saw a glimpse of earlier in the game. But this part of the forest is actually situated on what might be some sort of cliff or mountainous area. The game’s path leads across the flat peaks of the area, but allows you to see brief glimpses of vast valleys with forests made from a more Christmas Tree like tree than the ones we see immediately outside the door to the Ruins. We also see the river briefly at the very beginning, but not during the long period where we are traversing the peaks. When it reappears immediately behind Snowdin, which is indicated to be at the other end of the cave with the rock wall immediately on the other side of the river, its becomes likely that the river followed the wall of the cave all the way around and that the player went the opposite direction across the highlands. The valleys themselves are far lower than the peaks you traverse, which would put them lower than even the City of Home in the Ruins. If Frisk climbed the mountain and fell to the Ruins, and the level below those is Home and the Snowdin Highlands, then the Snowdin Valleys are probably well below the normal ground level of the Surface world outside the mountain. Some have suggested that like the bridge into Snowdin Town, the background of valleys might also be painted murals done by Papyrus or some other monster. Due to the moving sprites of the tiny house and its occupant as seen from the cliff next to the Mysterious Door, as well as the fact that the landscape moves differently than the rest of the setting as the player walks, it’s absolutely certain that it is a real landscape and not a painting. Returning to the Ice Cave idea we have sufficient moisture to begin Evaporative Cooling, which involves water being warm enough for evaporation and causing warm moist air to flow out exits of the cave and cold dry air of Winter to enter the cave. Its possible that some of the entrances are high on the mountain, only allowing cold air to enter, but since the cave is so vast there would need to be multiple sunlight allowing entrances in the ceiling, and they can’t all be in the highest snowy peaks but in various places on the mountain and in the foothills. Our water would have been warmed by the same processes that keep Waterfall from freezing over from Snowdin’s cold in the present day, the thermal forces of Ebbot’s Volcanic core. That and sunlight would have caused Evaporative Cooling to kick into gear. Normally Ice Caves caused by Evaporative Cooling have yearly cycles where the flow of air reverses and warm air is sucked into the cave instead of cool air. Which at one point was probably how the cave worked, allowing for the growth of trees that would flourish in the Taiga like conditions that would have begun to form. The larger trees of White Spruce and the smaller trees, which are probably Douglas Firs because some varieties are estimated to live at least to 500 years and well beyond 1,000 at most, would have been able to grow from seeds fallen into this area and possibly enough to seed more. But then something happened which stopped the process. The area grew just cold enough to form a Cold Trap. This operates on a lot of the same principles, with convection drawing cold winter air into the cave while any warm air is sucked outward. The difference is that due to the cold air in the cave being significantly colder than the air outside during all points of the year, the process doesn’t reverse but remains static during the Summer and continues drawing in cold air during Winter. But how did the cave get cold enough to start that process? It was likely that the volcanic activity of the Mountain was greater at that point and then as time went on the Magma either cooled or receded further from the area, letting the evaporation stop during the coldest part of the cycle, kicking off the Cold Trap. So by the time the Monsters arrived it was growing cold and most plant life in this part of the Underground was dead or hidden in smaller warmer caves. The river flowed too fast to be frozen solid, and the trees were able to survive but not put out new seeds because no new warm season ever came. It’s possible that the Snowdin Cavern will grow colder and colder as time goes on, or it might maintain its temperature. I’m not sure exactly as far as that goes. But I do know that unless something changes the perpetual winter in the area all the trees will eventually die and the Forest will probably just be a lot of dead frozen trees, or they’ll rot with a bit of moisture and come crashing down. There are areas here and there as you make your way through Snowdin Forest where we see only the tall trees with mostly barren lower trunks within the screen’s view and only blackness beyond them. Both before and after these sections we catch glimpses of the vast valleys and hills of the cave, which means that these patches are not cave wall, but areas of mountain top forest so thick that the light is being obscured. One theory might suggest that the trees are attempting to grow towards the openings in the cave ceiling to get as much light as possible, or that only the huge trees in the areas directly beneath the openings were able to survive, leaving the smaller Firs to take over the lower valleys and hills, which makes sense since that species needs much less light than the White Spruce trees. Now that I’ve established some plausible explanations (Hopefully) for how this cave might work, let’s take a quick look at how much space is being used. We know that the Town itself is on a cliff at the edge of the large cave. In fact its partially inside the cave that leads to Waterfall.We know this because the River, which joins up with us again behind the town, has a natural rock wall behind it, suggesting that the town is actually more enclosed than most of Snowdin’s peaks, even if it is connected to them by a bridge. Our peaks are probably gigantic groups of stalagmites formed who knows how long ago and flattened or broken at the tops somehow, allowing for forests to take seed on accumulating soil. (It is possible that they are Hornitos or some other type of volcanic formations from Ebbot’s volcanic activity, especially since areas of the Underground were almost certainly initially carved out by flowing magma and then altered as water and weather took their toll over time. But most volcanic based Speleothems are significantly more fragile than limestone and water based ones, so its possible, but not likely. Aside from the town and the single house we get to see in the valley, we see no signs that this area is being put to significant use. It’s not a matter of not enough Monsters, because we know that hundreds of them dwell in the Underground and that more and more are crowding to the city, mostly in hope that they’ll be free to escape to the surface soon. There are some monsters and animals living in the forests themselves, but for all the sheer size of Snowdin Caverns, it seems mostly empty. There could be instances out of sight where Monsters have made their homes. Small caves dug into the side of cliffs and plateaus could be made into perfect little houses, and groups of houses, factories, or even greenhouse farms could be set up in areas the player can’t see in game. But it would all be conjecture as there is no in game evidence that this is so for the Snowdin Cavern.

#wow #this was very long #but it was fun #undertale #textual analysis #snowdin forest #snowdin woods #snowdin town #speleothems #mt ebbot #caves #caverns #winter trees #cold trap #ice cave #undertale theory #game theories #this isn't very organized cause i didn't have a plan #sorry if it doesn't make much sense

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milkybunbuns · 4 years

Text

ii. battles → perfection masterlist → next → previous

w/c: 1.9 K

warnings: spoilers for season 1 episodes 6 and 7

a/n: I moved the basic hero training part to morning because I realised half way through it happened in the afternoon and I was too lazy to change everything 😅

A brand new day, which meant a brand new day of school. You wouldn’t even be surprised if today there would be another test and just unluckily for you, Hawks was nowhere to be seen in the morning, leaving you with no food (the fridge was empty) and there was no time to go shopping considering you were running late. Home school was kinda nicer, you could wake up whenever you want, learn whenever you want and train whenever you want, but sometimes it did get a little bit boring.

Sliding the door open quietly, you slid through the smallest opening possible and settled down in your seat, All Might completely oblivious to the fact that you had just walked in, 7 minutes late, however, it clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Iida. You watched as he raised his arm, panicking internally and waving your hands crazily at him, trying to signal him, no. Yet he paid no mind to you. Grrr, Iida!! Way to blow my sneaky entrance smh.

“Yes young Iida?”

“I’m sorry for disrupting the class, but I would like to point out that L/n-san has entered the classroom late and being part of UA, it is expected that all students should be on time”, he pointed at you, exposing you as everyone turned their heads towards you.

You heard whispers of ‘huhh, who’s that?’, ‘I didn’t see her’, ‘Is she new?’, which brought a lot of embarrassment upon yourself.

“It’s not very nice to whisper about someone in front of them kero”, Tsuyu, spoke up, which stopped all the whispers.

Iida stood up and bowed an almost perfect bow to All Might, “I’m sorry All Might for the discrepancy, please continue.”

“Right!”, the no.1 hero sweat dropped, “Please put on your costumes and meet me at Ground B”, he pressed a button on a remote, the wall somehow magically producing cases which held individual costumes based on requests. You grabbed your case, which was labelled no.9, looking around for Tsuyu so you thank her properly for standing up for you. Her green hair was pretty easy to spot, as you rushed to her.

“Oh hi L/n-san!”, she waved at you with her free hand, still keeping a fast pace.

“Hi Asui-san, thank you so much for standing up for me, I would’ve been a gonner without you.”

“It’s no problem at all and call me Tsuyu.”

“Alright Tsuyu, I was wondering if you’d like to be friends with me?”

“Of course! It’d be my pleasure kero”, okay phew it would’ve been so embarassing if she said no sjoakpa.

Everyone met outside, after changing into various hero costumes. Some looked out right ridiculous, Mineta’s was a great example for sure, while some looked really good and you couldn’t help but be in awe at Ochaco’s costume. It had a really nice colour palette consisting of pink, white and black and fitted her quirk really well.

“Ochaco!”, you waved her over, from where she was standing with Deku, quickly examining his hero costume, you noticed that the teeth looked a bit strange and he kinda looked like a bunny though it was clearly meant to be All Might style.

“Hi Y/n!!”, Ochaco smiled bouncing up and down excitedly, “This is so exciting! Our first hero training class!!”

“Yeah, I guess it is. Your costume is really cutee~”

She scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, “Thanks, but I honestly didn’t expect this to be skin-tight.”

“It’s good for your quirk and easier to manoeuvre around with a tight suit rather than a loose suit. We don’t want you accidentally making yourself float in a battle.”

“Oh yeah, of course, that would be pretty bad. But I love your costume, it’s really bright though, wouldn’t that be bad for stealth?”

“That’s why I’ve already figured out what I want to be. If or when I become a hero, I’m going to be a daylight hero.” Your costume was almost all white, but it also had bits of f/c with it. It consisted of white combat boots lined with stars in f/c near the soles, as well as 3/4 length leggings and a skin-tight top which was able to help cool you off. In terms of gadgets, you had heatproof f/c gloves, a utility belt which contained ice cubes in a small thermos, bandages, a small bottle of water. Other than those, you had a heatproof visor on your face. (Feel free to imagine up your own costume)

“Wait, you’ve already thought so far ahead, we still have 3 years here tho!”

“Well, maybe I’ll change my thoughts along the way, but lets listen to All Might before we get called out.”

“Right.”

It turned out you were put in team I, along with an invisible girl, who had introduced herself as Hagakure and a tail boy who was called Ojiro.

“Okay, Hagakure, you should go scout for them and me and Ojiro will protect the bomb.”

“On it!”, and she was soon out of the room, discarding her clothes in one of the many rooms to become completely invisible. The extra time for the villains was over and before you could begin anything, ice quickly made it’s way to your feet, trapping both you and Ojiro in the ice.

Ojiro pressed a finger to his ear pierce, “Hagakure! Where are you what’s the situation?”

“The Todoroki guy has frozen the whole building and he’s coming to the room right now!”

“Okay, I’ll get us out of this”, you activated your quirk, hands quickly heating up as you let them hover over your feet, the temperature enough to melt it off. Thanks to Todoroki, the whole room was cold, so you could freely use your quirk without overheating, but the negative to this was you could only use up any stored energy from before, since it was almost pitch-black in this room. The door slammed over before you could free Ojiro, revealing Todoroki, who seemed slightly surprised that you were free. He still had no clue how your quirk operated and what it did exactly.

“So,Todoroki-kun? You after this?”, you grabbed the bomb which was still coated in a thick layer of ice and ripped it right out of the ground, allowing a pair of wings to form on your back. He raised his right foot, slamming it down to create a large scale ice attack which you avoided easily, flying out of the window and onto the rooftop where your quirk could operate freely and without end, until your body temperature gets too hot.

Todoroki followed the particles of light out, creating his own path of ice, but by the time he arrived, you already had the bomb safely sitting on the other side of the roof, now instead of being coated with ice, being coated with light energy, which was hot to the touch and melted the ice. Wordlessly, he sent an ice attack towards you, hoping to knock you out to remove the barrier around the bomb. Well he knew it’d know you out, he knew his ice side was powerful. So when you rushed from behind the glacier, sending a ball of light towards him, he was shocked to say the least, but still dodged it.

“If you haven’t figured out by now, your ice only helps me. Using ice attacks is useless, to defeat me, you’ve gotta use your fire side.”

Todoroki frowned, “I can defeat you with just ice, no matter how powerful you are.”

“Hm?”, you arched an eyebrow then shrugged, “Alright, sure.” You created a few more light balls just enough so they were surrounding you, “Say bye then”, you sent them all at once, controlling them to follow Todoroki like guiding missiles. He quickly created a cube like shape of ice around himself, the ice shattering into pieces leaving him unscathed except for a few scratched form the shards which pierced him.

A glacier, larger than the others before raced towards you, and you thought quickly, covering the space around you with light energy which melted all the ice.

“Your quirk relies on light doesn’t it, so what if you run out of it”, Todoroki pointed out, now the rooftop was encased with a thick layer of ice all the way around which was too much for you to melt through without wasting all the energy you had saved. “And even though ice helps keep your body cold, how much of it can you handle before your body starts to get frostbite. My body was made to be able to withstand these temperatures, but yours is made to withstand heat.”

He could already see that you were shivering, your costume didn’t provide much warmth at all, since you simply assumed you would always be too hot rather than cold.

“No way am I letting you win”, you said through clenched teeth, if there was one thing you hated, it was losing. In your palms you held bits of light energy to keep you warm, but you knew you couldn’t keep this up forever, you had to think and act quickly. Your eyes darted around the ice room, all that was there was you, Todoroki and the bomb. Of course! The bomb! The bomb was still covered with light energy. You grabbed onto the bomb, burning your hands in the process, but still managing to throw it at the ice, the heat melting through the ice to create a hole out. At that moment, you realised you had been baited. Todoroki knew you could withstand the heat of your own light energy better than he could and made it so you had no choice but to use the energy form there which got rid of the layer so he could get the bomb. You watched in horror as he reached towards the bomb and in panic, you sent one towards his hand which was badly aimed and went over his arm instead and into the ice walls.

You lunched forwards, even though you knew there was no way you could make it to him in time, as he touched the bomb, signalling the heroes win. Placing his left hand on the floor, everything was melted off. You were shivering from the cold, frost forming along your body. He took notice and felt just a bit bad, and got permission from all might to take you to the nurse’s office. After all, a hero’s role was to save.

You got on the bed, rubbing your arms to try and get warmth, recovery girl’s quirk couldn’t help you warm up since it wasn’t really an injury.

“Here, I’ll warm you up”, Todoroki stated bluntly holding out his left hand.

“R-right thanks”, you chattered, trying to fit both of your hands in his, which were extremely warm, but not too hot. After a few moments of awkward silence, with him staring at you, you let go. “Thanks for the help, but I think I can warm up myself from here on.”

“Alright L/n-san, but I have proven that I can defeat you with only my right side. I will not need my left side to defeat you.”

His words left you thinking for a while, he only required half his strength to take you out, which meant you still had miles to improve. When you got third in the quirk apprehension test, you thought you were pretty good, but you never noticed the difference in power between you and Todoroki till now. Training was definitely needed.

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tagged: @dyna-m1ght

#todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki #todoroki x y/n #bnha todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki #todoroki shoto #bnha #mha #boku no academia #my hero academia

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