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deebris · 4 months

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The Mysterious Visitor 3

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Bruce begins to suspect that Damian is hiding something after the two of you finally see each other, and the father-son trust between them is shaken. Tim finally sees your face, and something strange happens. The meeting between siblings was not successful, and to their dismay, Bruce will need to confront Talia face to face once again.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned; family discussion; maternal overprotection.

Word count: 3.6k

Note: I'm sincerely sorry if I didn't include someone on the tag list or if I made any mistakes. This part took longer because it's a bit longer.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

"Forgive me for not offering anything sooner, miss," Alfred said, watching you carefully pick up the hot chocolate he had given to you. He found it curious how you ignored the handle of the mug, instead holding it with both hands, making sure wouldn't spill it.

You diverted your eyes from the brown liquid and looked at the old butler, now knowing his name, licking your lips after the sip to clear the excess drink. "It's okay," you responded, unaware of the chocolate mustache that had formed.

Bruce, still in the room, watched the scene from the side while patiently awaiting Damian. He traced circles with his index finger on the rim of the whiskey glass he had poured for himself, trying to keep control of how much he drank. Bruce would never admit it, but he needed to calm down, and perhaps a bit of moderate alcohol might help. He knew it wasn't appropriate to drink in front of someone as young as you, but he couldn't stop himself.

He was caught looking at you with a suspicious gaze that didn't waver. The room was filled with a palpable discomfort, and you, embarrassed, went back to staring at your own drink again, focused on listening to the crackling of the fireplace.

"Here, take this," Alfred said gently, extending a napkin from the tray. You accepted it and wiped around your mouth, finally realizing you'd made a mess.

Your mother would have scolded you for your lack of manners, you thought to yourself. And, for the thousandth time that night, you worried about how she would react to discovering you weren't in your bed. Maybe she had already noticed and was preparing a furious speech along with your punishment.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" Alfred asked, noticing your quietness as you rested the hot chocolate mug in your lap and started staring into nothing.

You snapped out of your stupor upon hearing the question, fiddling with one of the charms on your bracelet, the "T" specifically, Bruce couldn't help but notice. His mind was in turmoil, much like yours, with a thousand different thoughts arising every second. He felt strangely betrayed, questioning how much more his son hadn't told him—important things like the fact that he had a sister.

"I was just thinking that..." you trailed off, swallowing hard as the nervousness grew. Letting out a shaky sigh and with visible tears forming in your eyes, you continued, "My mom's going to be mad at me."

"And are you afraid of your mother?" Alfred insisted, trying to sound gentle upon seeing your distress.

"It's not quite that," you replied, trying to ease the situation so he wouldn't jump to conclusions.

You weren't exactly afraid of her, but you knew that rummaging through your mother's belongings, stealing a letter, and sneaking out in the middle of the night would disappoint her. You worried about her reaction and, above all, about Damian's reaction. If he was still the same, he certainly wouldn't be happy with the circumstances.

You tried to calm yourself, convincing yourself that you had the right to be angry for the first time in your life, not them, even knowing that your family would see you differently. It was as if you were perpetually a five-year-old in their eyes, always needing to hear lectures about every dangerous step you took.

Even though you and your brother were the same age, he was more responsible, smarter, stronger, destined to be a leader. And it annoyed you so much, but no matter what you said, your mother wouldn't change her mind about your upbringing.

When Damian left, Talia had said he would spend some time in a different place to learn new things and improve himself. For the first few weeks, it was even liberating not having him on your neck all the time, but then you realized it was because of him that you could do simple things like take a walk around the neighborhood alone.

Without Damian at home, your mother had no one to contradict her decisions, and her constant protection began to suffocate you. Then came the longing, and what was supposed to be a few months turned into years, and you never saw him again. You never stopped thinking about him. Every day, every birthday, and every Christmas, you would wait near the entrance of your apartment before going to bed, hoping that he would open the door again.

"Where is your mother?" Bruce suddenly interrupted, feeling Alfred's cautious gaze on him. You hesitated to answer, after all, although Mr. Wayne was a very popular man with a good image, you didn't know him. "I don't intend to harm you, but I need to know to take you back home," he justified, looking directly at your face, but Alfred knew this was Bruce's way of telling him that he wasn't interested in Talia, but rather in ensuring your safety.

"I'm not dumb, I know how to get home by myself," you tried to defend yourself. And though the words might sound arrogant, you said it calmly, not wanting to offend him.

"The point is not that. This is Gotham City, you shouldn't have gone out alone in the middle of the night." Bruce tried to reason with you, and it seemed to have worked because you fell silent.

"You need to trust us, miss," Alfred tried to encourage you to respond, but you remained silent. Bruce turned the glass to take a big sip of his drink and both gave up, not wanting to pressure you further.

The following minutes were silent, interrupted only by the sound of you drinking the hot chocolate in a few sips. Unexpectedly, Titus, Damian's German Shepherd, seemed to have taken a liking to you. He entered the room from the kitchen and stopped by your side to smell the new scent in the house. The relatively gentle dog sniffed around you, appreciating the head pats he received while you were enchanted by the furry animal.

Bruce couldn't help but compare you to his son since he began to analyze you. Damian had his mother's cunning personality and an arrogance that Bruce couldn't deny he had too, but it was more pronounced in Talia. He clearly remembered the first meeting with Damian. The first thing the boy did was make a ridiculous joke about his height, and he never seemed shy when meeting Bruce or the other boys. Also, when he arrived at the mansion, he felt comfortable analyzing every tiny detail of the house, unconcerned if his opinions were unpleasant.

You, on the other hand, although in different circumstances, limited yourself to a small space on the couch, responding only when asked and gladly accepting the kindness of Dick and Alfred. Bruce wondered how Talia could have raised a daughter like you. She and her sister, Nyssa, were sharp women, trained to be natural-born assassins, despite having a traditional father like Ra's. It was hard to believe that you, an apparently ordinary and shy girl, could be her daughter.

"Do you like dogs?" Bruce asked, deciding to stop being grumpy.

"I do, but I think I prefer cats." You continued to stroke Titus's cheeks, who began to want to climb onto your lap. Unfortunately, he was too heavy, and you had to push him back to the floor. The animal seemed to interpret that as a game because he kept trying to climb several times. "Mom gave me one for Christmas last year."

"Titus." Bruce's voice caught the dog's attention, patting his right thigh, calling him to sit on his lap. His gesture, although meant to stop the animal from bothering you, made you a little disappointed that you couldn't pet his soft fur anymore.

"What a coincidence. It seems you and Damian share something in common." Alfred was smiling while talking to you, which was rare for him. "Last Christmas, he also brought us two stray cats. The black one lives with us, but unfortunately, I don't know what happened to the other one. Curiously, the cat has my name." The butler tried to make a face at you, pretending to be unhappy. A Cheshire smile spread across your face, followed by the most contagious laugh he had ever heard, and he couldn't help but widen his own smile.

"The cat's name is Alfred?" You asked incredulously, seeing him nod positively. "Mine is an orange cat. He's cute but very troublesome; he even scratched one of my ballet shoes." You commented, much more at ease in Mr. Wayne's presence.

"An orange kitten?" Bruce's eyes widened slightly, just like Alfred's.

An orange and a black cat, both mentioned on the same date. Your seemingly trivial confession revealed to both of them that Damian had indeed kept in touch with you. Perhaps not directly, but it showed that he hadn't forgotten your existence and cared enough to have given the other cat to his sister as a gift. Now, because of you, they both finally knew what had happened to the other furball.

"Your brother also raises a cow here on the property." The butler thought it would be of interest to mention the funny fact, given that Damian was too irritable to raise something like a cow. And it seemed to have worked, as you laughed with genuine surprise in your eyes.

Bruce couldn't help but let out a muffled laugh when reminded of the cow, and unlike how he had been so suspicious of you moments ago, he was now more relaxed. He wondered when was the last time he saw Alfred so cheerful with someone new here at the mansion. The butler was a man full of tenderness for the family, but he was difficult to deal with for outsiders, although he always presented himself in a polite manner.

But the pleasant moment was suddenly interrupted by a series of voices coming from the top of the stairs, making Bruce and Alfred frown. Both stood up to see better what was happening and saw Damian pushing and shouting at his three brothers while struggling to descend the steps without being hindered by them.

Jason saw that Bruce and Alfred had already noticed them, failing to prevent the boy from confronting you three, and let go of his arm. Dick and Tim followed suit, defeated. The events of the night were revealed to him by his brothers, who told him everything from you being here to the fact that you had had some sort of contact with Strange. Damian went berserk at the last part and stormed out of the room in a flash.

Seeing his son in the Robin uniform, Bruce thought of reprimanding him, knowing he had gone on patrol alone again, but decided that was a matter for later.

"Damian," Bruce called out, calming him down a bit from his excitement. "We have a visitor." There was no view of the stairs from the living room, so you couldn't grasp that Bruce was calling Robin by your brother's name.

Damian descended the steps slowly, as if it were a very difficult task for him, and then finally looked at you, then at Bruce, and back at you, completely ignoring anyone else. He took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Dick had told him that his father didn't know anything about you being his daughter, but he was sure this secret wouldn't last much longer. And honestly, he preferred that both of you knew the truth, even knowing that his mother wouldn't be happy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice.

You slowly got up from the couch, gripping the hot chocolate mug tightly. The truth was, Damian hadn't realized he was still dressed as Robin, and that's why you didn't recognize him. You stood there, paralyzed, not understanding why he was in Bruce Wayne's house, and why would he talk to you? Or maybe this was some kind of joke, and you still hadn't figured it out.

Damian was silent for a moment, his expression serious. "You were supposed to stay with Mom. It's not safe for you here."

"Master Damian," Alfred spoke, signaling to the mask on his face. Damian quickly tore it off, feeling stupid for forgetting about it.

You almost let the mug slip when you saw him. Your brother had grown a lot since he was ten. His face was thinner, more defined, and his eyes smaller, plus his voice was deeper. That's why you didn't recognize him at first. Before, you would have known who he was just by the sound of his voice, but it wasn't the same anymore.

You were happy and surprised at the same time. That moment was shocking, and the bitterness you felt a while ago was forgotten. Your anger at discovering Damian ignored you for two years for the people in this house didn't cross your mind now, too busy trying to memorize each of his new features. The superhero world wasn't new, after all, but how could your brother be Robin? And if he was Robin, did he know Batman?

"I wanted to see you," you replied, your voice trembling. "I missed you."

Damian sighed, approaching. He wanted to argue but fought against it, knowing the last thing he should do was yell at you after so long. "I missed you too, but you shouldn't be here, S/n. Things are complicated here." He responded tensely, calculating his words and trying to find a way to get you away from Bruce as quickly as possible before something slipped.

Bruce watched your interaction, unsure of what to do. He didn't understand the depth of your relationship, wondering if he should intervene or let you talk alone. It seemed too personal to discuss in front of so many eyes.

In a brief exchange of glances with Dick, in a kind of silent conversation, Bruce signaled for him and the others to leave.

Understanding as always, Dick nodded, indicating they should leave but not before approaching Bruce with something. "Bruce, promise me you'll only read this card when you're in a clearer state of mind," he asked in a whisper, placing a piece of paper in Bruce's hand, careful to put the written part facing his palm. Dick rarely asked for promises, so Bruce reluctantly agreed.

"Can you at least tell me what it is?"

"It's a clue about Hugo Strange," was the simplest response he could give. "But let's leave that for another time," Dick emphasized, looking at you and Damian, who, to their surprise, were watching them.

"Let's go. This is no longer our business," Dick tried to pull Jason and Tim along, but Tim was stubborn:

"Did you give it to him?" Tim said just loud enough for Dick to hear.

"Yes, Tim," he replied, not wanting to give him more room to argue, going up the stairs two steps at a time, followed by Jason who climbed more calmly, holding onto the railing. Tim gave one last look at Bruce, then at Damian, Alfred, and then you, who was now watching the three. You already knew Dick, but the other two figures aroused your curiosity. How many more people live in the mansion?

The boy you didn't know was called Tim started staring at you with an intrigued expression. He hadn't managed to see your face closely before, but now, looking calmly, he couldn't avoid noticing how familiar you seemed. He felt he had seen you somewhere, but where? You examined him with the same perplexity, and for a moment he parted his lips to say something, maybe to ask if he knew you, but Bruce's voice made him jump:

"Tim, you should go to bed, just like your brothers." He asked in a gentle tone.

"Sorry, Bruce." He responded quickly, going up the stairs in same style as Jason.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?" Damian took advantage of the fact that the three had left and angrily threw it in your face, but trying to disguise it at all costs to avoid sounding too harsh. His eyes were frantic, looking at every part of your face.

He wasn't sentimental, and he refused to go through the humiliation of showing any weakness at seeing your grown-up figure, even if it caused him heartache. "Why did you disappear like that? Mom's been worried for hours."

"I already told you. I wanted to see you." Your voice rose a bit, desperately trying to justify yourself. You wanted so much to hug him but felt too embarrassed to do so, finally realizing that the intimacy you had before no longer existed. It was as if he were a stranger.

"Let's go. I'll take you back." He grabbed your wrist, wanting to disappear from his father's sight at all costs, but you pulled away, surprising him.

"Why are you so eager to get rid of me?" You asked indignantly, trying to swallow the sob due to your wounded pride. The warmth in your heart rose to your head, finally feeling that old anger again. "I haven't seen you in years, and the first thing you do is want to keep me away again!" You were distressed, feeling rejected.

"Maybe it's because you only cause problems!" He exploded.

"I had forgotten how irritating you are!" You shouted at the top of your lungs, trying to push him back as you did in childhood arguments. Back then, you two were equal in strength, but now Damian was becoming a man, and he barely moved.

You didn't notice when you dropped the mug on the floor, which luckily didn't break as the impact was cushioned by the rug. But the little liquid left had spilled and stained it, and seeing Alfred pick it up to clean made you feel awful. You should have done it, but he stopped you when you made a move to bend down, saying it was okay. Alfred felt he shouldn't participate in this conversation and used the mug situation as an excuse to go to the kitchen.

"Stop." Bruce intervened between you two, separating both and giving his son a challenging look. He knew this kind of attitude was typical of him, but seeing how loyal and obedient Damian was to Talia, he thought he would at least show some sympathy to his sister. "S/n, why don't you go sleep a bit? It's late, it would be good to rest." He offered as a truce and also as a way to interrupt your meeting, seeing how bad it was going.

"Do you realize the danger she got into? Talking to strangers, no less." Damian spoke again, his voice dangerously calm, ignoring Bruce. "Do you have any idea who that guy was, S/n? Do you have any idea?!" His voice began to rise a few octaves.

A solitary tear rolled down your cheek, recalling the man who had helped you on the street. At that moment, he seemed like a good person, but the way your brother was talking, apparently he wasn't. "How many times do we need to tell you not to talk to strangers? Not to leave the house without telling anyone? It's always been like this since we were kids, you never change!"

You had no reaction. That single tear had turned into two, then into several others, as you shrank into your own shame. You felt ridiculous for coming here because of him.

"Damian, who are you talking about?" Bruce held him by the shoulders to stop him from continuing to spew anger at you. His voice was much deeper than the boy's, and although it didn't intimidate him, it was enough to make him look at him at least.

"Hugo Strange, Dad! Damn Hugo Strange!" Damian lost control of his own mouth, speaking without thinking and not realizing the slip he had just made. "Because she's too stupid to have the slightest notion about anything!"

"Hugo Strange?" Mr. Wayne asked out loud. You knew exactly who Strange was, just as you knew other villains, although you might not recognize them by appearance. But that didn't matter to you now, as you spoke right after:

"Why did you call him Dad?" You looked your brother in the eyes, expecting some kind of explanation, not noticing how his body hairs stood on end.

Suddenly, a realization hit you. This was his new family now, and this man was his father. That venomous jealousy returned once more, and you didn't know if it was because Damian now had someone to call 'Dad' or because it meant how close he had become to these people. Damian swallowed hard, sweating and standing still like a statue.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne. I didn't mean to cause trouble." You apologized, deciding to completely ignore Damian from now on.

"No need to apologize." Bruce felt uneasy, and like you, he drew a wrong interpretation from it. He thought Damian hadn't told his sister who his real father was, which was possible considering he also hadn't told her he moved in with him. The fact that you two were twins was also still unknown to Bruce. The most logical idea, though not spoken or thought, was that you were Talia's daughter with another man. "I'll ask Alfred to show you a room."

You looked one last time at Damian before disappearing into some wing of the mansion. It hurt to see him watching you leave without even saying goodbye. A 'good night' would have been hopeful, even though you hated him now.

"Come, miss." You felt Alfred's hands on your back, guiding you. "I'll show you the guest room," he explained, and you looked back, seeing Bruce watching the two of you.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you said, trying to sound as grateful as possible, while wrapping one arm around Alfred's waist affectionately. Bruce gave you a slight smile, uncrossing his arms to wave goodbye, which you returned with your free hand.

"You and I now have a lot to talk about." Bruce's aura had become cold again. The trust he had built with Damian wasn't broken, but it definitely had a crack.

"Mom is coming," he said in a low voice "I called her as soon as Dick started told me everything," he confessed, knowing Bruce would be furious, watching him run a hand through his hair to relieve the tension.

Following his example, Damian also sat in one of the armchairs in the room, analyzing his father's movements. Whenever Talia and Bruce were in the same room, even if they didn't do it openly, they fought for some kind of dominance.

Bruce made a move to take out the card Dick had given him to see its contents and maybe pass the time while the second storm of the night was yet to come. The first had been you, of course. He ran his fingers along one of the edges of the card, without taking it completely out of his pocket, and then remembered his son's words:

'Promise me you'll only read this card when you're in a moment of clarity.'

The last thing Bruce had now was clarity. So he sighed heavily and pushed it back into his pocket, staring at the boy beside him. "Why do I feel like your sister should be a secret, Damian?"

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Credits for the divider: @cafekitsune

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luveline · 10 months

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Hi lovely!

Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?

He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️

💘

for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k

cw implied past domestic violence

“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!”

“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.”

You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.”

“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–”

“You've done worse,” you deny.

His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.”

“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say.

The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained.

“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–”

“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity.

You're really quite close to each other.

It's not his fault.

You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge.

Your heartbeat soars.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes.

“I'm not mad,” he says.

“You sounded pretty mad."

“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says.

You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."

“You thought I might.”

“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.”

“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.”

“But you knew that already, didn't you?”

Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened.

“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say.

Hotch just shakes his head at you.

“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper.

“Why would you say that?”

“I can still do my job.”

“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.”

Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in.

“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side.

You stare resolutely at your shoes.

“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads.

You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained.

His hand slides open down the length of your back.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone.

“It's not like it was really you that scared me.”

The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain.

He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands.

“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall.

Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say.

He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you.

You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing.

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rosenclaws · 22 days

Text

unworthy || worst!Logan x reader

summary: Even though he's in a new universe his past continues to haunt him in the form of you. You're nothing but nice but Logan can't take it, not after you died by his hands in his own universe.

warnings: reader has she/her pronouns, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashbacks of blood and death. Logan gets brainwashed/manipulated in his past, emotionally unavailable Logan.

a/n: I saw that one tiktok prompt and decided to write this! I really like angst and low key might write a smutty part 2 but we will see! I hope you like it thank you!!!

It's another sleepless night for Logan. He's been having a lot of those lately. Wade's couch isn't exactly comfortable either. Everyone here treats him like a hero. Praising him for saving their universe. He scoffs at the idea. He wears the damn costume but he doesn't feel like a hero. Not after what he did.

Logan stands up from the couch, throwing off the blanket and deciding he needs some air. He grabs his jacket and leaves the apartment. The door closes loudly behind him but he can't seem to care. He fidgets with a cigar as he waits for the elevator to bring him to the ground floor.

When the cool outside air hits his face he relaxes. With a finally lit cigar, he walks around aimlessly. The sounds of his past haunt him with every passing second. Sure he may have saved this world but he is far from the hero they think he is.

"Logan? What are you doing?" He closes his eyes as he hears your voice from behind.

He glances over his shoulder to see you wrapped up in a blanket, a tired look on your face. It's early, the sun isn't even up yet and you're clearly exhausted. Yet here you are, out in the cold for him. He grunts in response, turning back around. He hears you sigh and it makes his stomach turn. He waits for you to turn around and go back inside but you don't. To his frustration you stay, you can't seem to take the damn hint.

You never have, he's tried to stay away from you. Ignore you. But you're so persistent. Stubborn. It doesn't matter how little he speaks to you or even looks at you, you don't give up. How he wishes you would. How he wishes you could understand that he needs you to stay far away from him. That just looking at you hurts. Hearing your voice is even worse. And being next to you is a knife through his heart.

It's not fair that you're here, haunting him in this universe as you did in his own. Though he thinks it might just be his punishment for everything he's done. How cruel.

"Go back to bed." He grumbles, his voice is slightly muffled by the cigar in his mouth.

"No." You say simply. Staying right next to him, looking up at the sky as the sun starts to peek out. He stares at you in disbelief. Wordlessly he stomps out his cigar and turns to leave.

"Logan, wait!" You call after him and he clenches his jaw. Why do you have to follow him? Why are you chasing him? His hurt builds until all he can feel is white hot rage.

"For fucks sake! Can't you just fuck off?" His growls. "I am sick and tired of seeing you everywhere I fucking go! So please, just take the fucking hint and leave. Me. Alone." Venom dripping with every word. He watches you shrink under his angry gaze.

Words dying on your lips as you tighten the blanket around yourself. His chest heaves as his anger starts to dissipate. He watches your eyes grow glassy and your lip quiver ever so slightly.

"I..I'm sorry." You mumble out an apology before running past him. Guilt creeps up inside of him but he doesn't let it show. It's better this way. That's what he repeats over and over. Trying to convince himself it's true.

You don't understand what you've done to piss off Logan this much. To make him hate you the way he does. All you wanted was to befriend him, to help him. That's what you did with your Logan. His first friend in the X mansion all those years ago. Sure your Logan was just as untrusting and gruff at first but he learned to accept his family. He changed. Maybe it's your fault for thinking it would be the same. He's not your Logan. You have to remind yourself of that.

He looks just like him though. Talks like him, even smells like him. Your Logan yelled and had his moments but he always came back, pulling you tight and apologizing. But the anger in his eyes is something you'll never forget. He's not your Logan and he never will be. After that night you make a point to stay out of his way. Refusing Wade's dinner invitations and waiting until odd hours to leave your apartment, not wanting to even risk seeing him out in the hallways.

Eventually you ran out of excuses that Wade would accept and you were dragged back to his apartment for Mary Puppins' birthday party. At least the apartment was busy. You awkwardly stand in the corner of the room as they sing Happy Birthday. Logan and Wade are surrounded by everyone with Mary Puppins in Wade's arms. A little birthday hat on her head and somehow Wade got on on Logan's head.

As Wade gives a long, heartfelt speech about Mary and you grimace as she licks his face. Logan lets out a noise of disgust as stares at the two of them. You let out a little laugh, thinking you were being quiet enough but Logan's eyes snap to you. Nerves creeps over you as he refuses to look away. Without another word you set you cup down and leave.

Logan wanted space, so that's what you're giving him.

Logan watches you leave, a pang in his chest as he watches the joy fade from your face.

"God it's like watching a wet cat stare into the window of a loving home." Wade shakes his head disappointingly.

"Shut up." Logan growls.

"Hey don't get mad at me. I'm not the one who lashed out due to my inability to process my emotions." Logan raises his fist and unsheathes his claws.

Deep down he knows Wade is right, but he'll never admit it. Instead he puts his claws away and rips off the party hat. He weaves through the party guests to get to the door.

"Go get her Crocodile Dundee!" Wade shouts but Logan ignores him.

He knocks on your door but you don't answer. His heart begins to sink as he realizes that maybe he's pushed you too far. All he has to blame is himself. He's hurt you yet again. A part of him tells him to turn and leave. Just give up and accept his fate. But He waits and waits.

There's a small part of him keeping him rooted to the spot outside of your door, telling him that this time he can make it right. People trickle out of his apartment but he pays them no attention. Hours pass and still no sign of you. Still he remains determined. He closes his eyes and leans back. Ready to wait as long as it takes.

The morning after Wade's party sucks. You feel like shit, physically and mentally. You barely got enough sleep last night with your mind running all night. Sighing you decide the only thing that can salvage your morning is a donut. Though when you go to open your door, you're met with a very heavy resistance.

"What the?" You mumble as you push hard against the door. You hear someone swear before shuffling on the other side. When you can finally open your door all the way you see Logan standing in front of you. Was he out here all night?

"What do you want?" You ask tiredly. You're really not in the mood to deal with him right now.

"I..." Logan doesn't know where to start. How to even begin to apologize. Sighing you close your door but Logan sticks his arm out.

"Wait! Please, just, I need to say some things. You don't have to forgive me but I need to say them." Silently you open your door and let him in. He watches nervously as you make your way to your couch.

"You're dead in my world." He winces at his own bluntness.

"And I killed you." Logan paces back and forth as he tries to piece together his nightmares.

"It was supposed to be a simple mission. Recon. I don't even go on those kinds of missions but I didn't want you going alone." He squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers.

"Logan!" You scold lightly.

"Keep your hands to yourself." He smirks as he walks you up against the walls of the jet.

"You don't normally complain about where my hands go." Rolling your eyes playfully, you place a kiss on his cheek.

"Just wait till after the mission okay?" He winks and pulls you in for a kiss.

"Fine, but after this I get you all to myself."

"We walked in and everything went wrong."

Something was wrong and he knew it. Still you insisted on finishing your mission. The moment you stepped through the door he wanted to take you and run. He should have. But he acted too late. The things he saw, A wall separating the two of you. Hearing your screams for help as he couldn't get to you.

"Well well, aren't you an interesting one." He looks around for the voice but all he can see is darkness. His claws swipe at the wall as he hears your voice pleading for his help. Suddenly the wall lifted and all he could see was someone with a gun to your head. He doesn't hesitate to jump into action. Fighting with everything he's got.

"Logan!" Your scream sounds far away as he shoves his claws deep into the man's stomach.

To his confusion the world begins to melt around him. To his horror he sees you standing in front of him. Cuts and bruises on your face, not caused by the enemies, but by him.

"It's okay," You whisper. Your hands shake as you try to reach out for his face. He doesn't want to look down, knowing that if he does, he'll see his claws deep in your stomach. Slowly your body sinks to the ground. His claws retract and you cry as they leave your body. He wraps his arms around you as you grow weak in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He repeats over and over again. His hands press on your stomach and you groan in pain. There's too much blood but he doesn't care. He can fix this, he can save you.

"Logan, It's okay my love." You brush his face with your bloody hand.

"No! I can fix this! We just have to get you home yeah?" He tries to move you but you scream in pain. It's too late, you've accepted it but he can't seem to.

"Come on sweetheart, please." He pleads desperately as he brings your body closer to him.

"Please, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," It's getting harder to breathe but strangely you're completely at peace. Logan doesn't understand how you can be.

"I'm sorry, I love you." He doesn't let go of you, repeating that like a mantra as you die in his arms.

"I killed you, I let whatever fucking asshole inside of my head and I killed you." He stops pacing and finally looks at you.

He blinks and it's like he's back in his nightmare. Blood on your face, a pitiful look on your face as you try and comfort him in your last moments. It makes him sick.

"I saw you everywhere I went, I let it ruin me. I became the monster you said I could never be." You reach out of him but he recoils from your touch.

"Then Wade found me and now I'm here thinking maybe I had changed but now you're fucking here. I see you every time I close my eyes and now I see you here." His claws come out in a fit of anger as he slams his hands against the arm of your couch.

"And you're so nice, too nice. You look at me just like she did and it kills me inside." His claws retract as he slowly approaches you.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, I don't deserve this. Any of this." Tears pool in your eyes as you watch the man break down right in front of you. Weighed down by the guilt of his past. Things begin to click together, why he's been so hostile towards you all this time.

"Logan, what happened isn't your fault." You say calmly. His breath hitches, you sound just like you did back then. Same tone and everything.

"If I was stronger, smarter..."

"You were tricked, it was an accident." You slowly move closer to him, worried that you'd scare him like a wounded animal.

"How can you be so kind about this?" He asks in disbelief.

"I killed you!" His claws come out as he brings them dangerously close to your face.

"I put my claws through you, I watched you bleed out in my arms." You gently touch his claws, moving them away from your face and bringing his hand to your chest. He resists, not wanting to touch you. Not wanting to hurt you

"I'm not her Logan. I'm here, I'm alive. You don't have to push me away." His eyes close as relents and places his hand on your heart. The steady beating grounds him back to reality. His memories slowly fade as he listens. Now only focused on you.

Ba bump Ba bump Ba bump

"I know you think you deserve the worst. But you don't. Maybe, maybe this isn't the punishment you think it is. Maybe, the universe is giving you a do over.” You two know that you're different from the ones that you loved. That no matter how much you look like each other, its never going to be the same. But the same for both of you means death, loneliness. So maybe this is a good different.

“You’ve always been too good for me.” He says.

“No, I think I’ve always been what you needed.” Logan lets go of you but he stays close.

His thumb reaches out to brush away a stray tear. He cups your face and leans in slowly. He seems reluctant to take the final leap. To truly accept that he deserves good things so you meet him half way. Tugging at his shirt you bring your lips to his.

It's soft and sweet. Like a first kiss you share on the front steps of your porch after a first date. A first kiss, a fresh start. Logan deepens the kiss, guiding you gently to the couch. His lips travel down to your neck, nipping at your skin as he mumbles apologies.

"Logan," You squeak. He sits up, worry on his face.

"Too much?" He runs his hand over where he bit.

"No, but maybe we start slower. Breakfast?" Logan almost laughs at the idea of something so domestic but a fresh start is what he wanted. It's what he's gotten and he's not going to waste it.

"Yeah, breakfast sounds good."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #worst!logan howlett #worst!logan howlett x reader

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4st4rion · 10 months

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some close proximity

ao3 link

just over 1k; astarion is in a bad mood, u make him feel better, kissing ensues. second person pov (astarion x you) and fully gender neutral. mild act 3 spoilers!

Astarion has been in a bad mood all day, and, frankly, you're fucking sick of it.

You don't confront him in front of everyone, because you're not an asshole, but you wait until it's just the two of you left in your rooms at the Elfsong, everyone else gone to have dinner and drink downstairs.

He's about to leave, too, but you stop him with a hand on his arm.

"Astarion," you say, hoping it comes off as gently as possible.

He whips around, brows furrowed together in an angry expression.

"What?"

You raise your eyebrows at him. He's really in a bad mood if he's being this short with his own lover.

"Astarion," you repeat, firmly this time. "What's going on with you today?"

A hundred emotions war over his face — first it's the anger at being called out, then denial that anything is wrong, then guilt and regret for snapping at you, and his eyes avoid your own as he heaves a dramatic sigh.

"Nothing," he lies, in that near-hysterical pitch he has when he's worked up. "We're only lingering in my ex-master's hunting grounds, staying at the tavern I used to hunt," he says. "How could I possibly be anything but ecstatic to hang around?"

You frown.

"Is that what it is?" you ask, ignoring the part of you that wants to get defensive about his tone with you. "Astarion, you're safe with us," you remind him, taking his hand and holding it intently. "None of us would let any harm come to you."

He flinches like he's going to pull his hand away, but decides not to.

"How do you know?" he mutters, still not looking at you. "Cazador himself could come find us any night."

"He'd be a fool to," you hum. "You're surrounded by allies, and you're no longer under his control."

You squeeze his hand.

"Cazador is probably cowering right now, afraid of his own death, knowing we're in the city," you say, and that almost gets Astarion to smirk.

"I'm sure he's shitting himself," Astarion says sarcastically, but you roll with it.

"And pissing, too," you add. "He's running out of pants from how often he's shitting and pissing himself."

That, stupid as it is, makes Astarion laugh.

He glances at you, then scoffs, still smiling.

"I hate that you make me feel better," he admits, winding his fingers around yours. "Little shit."

You smile back.

"I'm your little shit, though," you say, before you can consider whether you should or not, and he goes still.

"Are you?" he asks, softly. Cautiously.

"A little shit?" you ask, giving you both the chance to escape this conversation, but he only laughs one amused huff.

"No," he says. "Are you? Mine?"

The look in his eyes is dangerous; you want to pull him into a kiss and never stop, give him anything and everything, let the world melt around you in favor of giving yourself to him, body and mind and soul.

"Maybe," you say, trying to sound coy but sounding nervous, instead.

The hand that isn't in yours comes to up pet you, his thumb running over your cheekbone and your lower lip before he leans in to kiss you. It's as intoxicating as ever, and you let yourself relax as the two of you kiss over and over in your shared room.

Your free hand holds him at his hip, first, then at his waist, pulling him in until the two of you are flush together. He won't stop kissing you, stealing your breath away and swallowing anything you may have to say about the situation.

"Are you mine?" he asks again, once you're flustered and weak in the knees.

You swallow thickly.

"Might be," you admit, but it's not what he wants to hear — his hands leave you to guide you by your hips, back until your legs meet your comfortable daybed and you tumble down onto the mattress.

He climbs on top of you, and you'd compare him to a predator if he wasn't giggling quietly to himself as he bullies between your legs. You can't help but laugh, too, because it's a little ridiculous, isn't it? You've been together, been something, since you helped the tieflings at Emerald Grove, fighting side by side and barely ever apart — it should be easy enough to admit that you're his.

He pulls your shirt off of you and sets to laying kisses down your neck and chest, paying extra attention just under your ear until you know there's going to be a lovebite worried into your skin.

"Bastard," you mutter, but he only laughs again.

"Everyone already knows we're together," he reasons. "I might as well mark you."

His words send something hot creeping under your skin. You'd like that, you think — being marked as belonging to someone. How different is a lovebite from a wedding ring, when you think about it? Or a collar, or a scar? It's a symbol of ownership, isn't it?

"Don't tempt me to do the same," you threaten, even though that thought sends something even hotter through you. He'd look good with a ring of bruises bitten around his neck, outlines of your teeth indented in his skin.

He bites at your neck, not drawing blood but not gently, and it startles a quiet noise out of you.

"Tell me you are mine," he says this time, and you can't deny it any longer.

"I'm yours," you sigh, as his teeth make themselves at home in your neck.

"Only mine," he growls, and you laugh. You've certainly been getting hit on a lot lately, yeah; between the Emperor shooting his shot and having to stop Halsin from confessing his feelings, it's no surprise he's feeling possessive.

"Only yours," you purr. You drape your arms over his shoulders and pull him closer, arching against him to press your body up to his and baring your neck for him. "I haven't thought of anyone but you since we met," you admit, your voice as low and sultry as you can manage.

He whines against you and takes your offering, biting into your neck with his fangs and drawing blood. It doesn't happen every time you have sex, and it doesn't always lead to sex, but sex and feeding are entwined enough that one tends to tangle into the other. Not that you mind, far from it — his bite becomes pleasantly numb as he drinks from you and the mild lightheadedness only adds to how dreamy it is every time you get intimate with him.

"You mean everything to me," you say, slow and sleepy-sounding, everything getting further and further away as he drinks. "You are everything to me."

He makes another desperate noise into your veins and pulls up, away. His mouth seals over the same spot to suck the last trickles of blood that ooze up and he licks to help the wound begin to heal, his tongue especially familiar here.

As soon as he trusts your skin not to split back open, he's moving up to kiss you again. You'd be more disturbed by the taste of your own blood on his tongue if you weren't used to it by now.

"You are mine," he shudders between kisses. "Just as I am yours," he adds, his voice full of fake confidence.

"You are," you immediately affirm, wanting him to know it's true and it's mutual.

"Not like I was his," he hisses. “In a different way."

You nod against him.

"A better way," you agree, and he nods, too, kissing you even harder.

You stay that way for a good, long while, tangled together on the bed. Time and place melt away; the only things that exist or have ever existed are the two of you, here, now, together, and the quiet sounds of love between your mouths.

It's good.

It's perfect.

#astarion #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #tavstarion

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wafflefries13 · 3 months

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Dream a Little Dream of Me (Twisted Wonderland Cast X Reader)

Summary: A look into the future with the Twisted Wonderland cast, guest staring our favorite magicless prefect.

AN: Can you tell which of these were really hard for me to come up with? Overall I'm pretty happy with them. A few of these I feel like I could come up with full-length fics later. But, man, did I not realize exactly how big the cast was until I started writing it all. I thought I would keep them all to around 500 words but I quickly abandoned that.

Warnings: None that I can think of. AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

“You can see the future?”

(Y/N) stood with Ace and Deuce, Grim clinging on to the side of the cauldron, watching the swirling purples, blues, and greens of their latest alchemy assignment come together.

“Sort of?” Deuce said, looking into his own cauldron, one he hadn’t summoned out of thin air this time. “It’s more like what might happen in the future. Like, if you continue doing what you’re doing you’re more likely to get this result sort of thing.”

“It's not really specific either,” Ace added. “This is kind of a standard potion for midterms. I think every year is doing it.”

“The oracleum mycoculous mushroom,” Professor Crewel said, giving a stern eye to the chatting group. “Is said to give premonitions, depending on how it is treated. The method we are using today should give vivid dreams on future outcomes. I recommend when you go to bed tonight, focus on a certain aspect of the future you want more information about. Health, career, wealth, marriage. Something nebulous will work better with this specific concoction. It’s important to note that you will be aware that you’re dreaming, but unable to have any agency or action. Remember you’re not controlling the vision, just let it happen and see what information you can gather.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this magic stuff,” (Y/N) said, ladling their potion into a thick mug. She screwed her face up. “Or the smell.”

“More for me then!” Grim cheered, snatching the mug out of her hands and downing the entire thing before (Y/N) could protest. As soon as he had drained the last drop, he turned a strange shade of green, despite his gray fur.

(Y/N) pet his head sympathetically as Grim made gagging noises. “That’s what you get for being impatient.”

As soon as the rest of the class had drunk their potion, with similar reactions to Grim, they were dismissed. The rest of the day went on as normal, or as normal as it could be at Night Raven College.

As the sun set and students settled into their beds, some eagerly awaited the possible visions that they hoped would come to them as they slept. Others dreaded the uncertain future. Still others ignored the possibilities all together, not putting stock into an uncertain chance of a glimpse of the future, determined to make their fortune themselves.

And so, NRC slept and dreamed.

Ace

Ace vaulted over the overturned trash can, dashing after the culprit. His feet pounded the pavement, heart thundering in his ears with every step. The culprit looked over his shoulder to see Ace still in hot pursuit and he dashing out into the street. Cars swerved and braked hard, trying to avoid hitting him, one overcorrecting and swiping into another car. Ace ignored the angry shouts, sliding across the hood of a crashed car with single determination.

“Ace!” Deuce’s voice crackled from the walky-talky fixed to his tactical vest. “Where are you?”

Ace quickly flicked his eyes up to check the street signs. “Heading south down Dodgson street!” South? Was that right? It sounded like the right thing to say, and it’s not like he had time to check the position of the sun.

“On it!” Deuce called back.

Ace’s muscles burned, but he refused to break stride. The culprit cut through an open air market, shoving and throwing people behind him to try and slow Ace down. Ace tried to catch them while still keeping the culprit in his line of sight. Just when he felt like his lungs were about to give out, an arm shot out from the corner, clotheslining the culprit. The culprit fell back hard, his own momentum bringing him down. Deuce stepped out from the corner, cracking his knuckles. Ace slid to a stop next to them, quickly kneeling down to flip the culprit on his stomach, handcuffing his hands behind him. Stolen mage stones spilled from the culprit’s pockets.

Later, back at the Arcane Special Defense Unit headquarters in the Queendom of Roses, everyone was celebrating. Senior officers gave hearty congratulations to the two rookies for their final take down of a mage stone thief ring that had been a thorn in their side for almost a decade. Deuce took the praise with a little more grace, demurely waving off attention, while Ace preened and basked in it.

“Hey, Trappola!” One of the senior officers called over the din. “You got a visitor!”

(Y/N) poked her head out from behind the officer, giving a little wave. Several of the other officers whistled and whooped, Deuce elbowing him with a smile. Ace flipped them off and jogged over to (Y/N) pulling her out of the main room to a slightly quieter hallway.

“Hey, hero,” (Y/N) said, kissing his cheek.

“Hero, huh?” Ace said with a crooked smile. “I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t get a big head, now.”

“Hey, you’re talking to a soon to be detective. That deserves some respect, right?”

“Sure, sure.” (Y/N) flicked his chest. “You’ve always had a big head anyway.”

“Alright, that’s it!” Smirking, Ace leaned down, slinging his arms around (Y/N)’s midsection and sweeping her up to toss over his shoulder. (Y/N) shrieked in delight as he spun around. Getting dizzy, Ace tripped over his feet, causing them both to tumble down. Ace pivoted at the last second so he landed first, softening the blow, (Y/N) landing on top of him. They both looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in a fit of giggles.

Catching her breath, (Y/N) rested her chin on Ace’s chest, gazing up at him. He held her close, brushing a hand through her hair.

“Marry me,” He mumbled. They both seemed shocked that he had said it, Ace immediately blushing with wide eyes. “I - I mean,” He stuttered. “I didn’t mean - I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to say it now - Not that I wouldn’t want to or anything but -”

(Y/N) silenced him with a kiss. “It’s okay,” She said when she pulled away, leaving Ace dazed. “I’ll wait for you.”

Ace pulled her close, burying his face in her shoulder, purposefully ignoring the cheers from the officers who had stuck their heads out the door. He started thinking about jewelry stores nearby.

Deuce

Deuce fiddled with the clasp on his cape. He looked in the full-length mirror in his room. His private room - some of the perks of being Heartslabyul’s House Warden. He’d been fitted for the uniform at the end of last school year, when Riddle had announced Deuce as his successor. And now, here he was, finally wearing it. It felt awkward. He looked awkward. Not for the first time, he couldn’t believe he was here, wearing it. It didn’t look right. Or, rather, he didn’t look right in it.

There was a soft knock at his door. Deuce flinched away from fiddling with the uniform like it had burned him. “Come in!” He called. Why did his voice sound so weird? Was that what a House Warden should sound like?

(Y/N) popped her head in, wearing the formal entrance ceremony robes. “Just me. Whoa.” She stepped inside, staring at Deuce. She looked at him in awe, a smile spreading across her face. She clasped her hands together. “Deuce! You look amazing!”

He spread his arms wide, trying to find whatever (Y/N) saw in him. “You think so? I don’t look, I don’t know, out of place or anything?”

She hummed, walking forward and straightening Deuce’s cape. “I think you look like a fine and respectable House Warden, one that all the new first-years are going to love. Although,” She winked at him and Deuce felt himself blush vigorously. “You’re a pretty easy guy to love.”

“Yeah?” He said, hoping she would ignore the way his voice cracked.

“Yeah.” She gripped his lapels and pulled him down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her. Couldn’t they just stay like this? Did he really have what it took to go out there and give a welcome speech to all those new students? Not to mention all the returning students who already knew him, all his mess ups and faults and imperfections.

“Hey.” (Y/N)’s voice snapped him out of it. “You’re getting in your own head again. Everyone’s going to be able to see you just like I do.” She brushed a lock of hair away from his face. “Strong, kind, brave, the world’s best boyfriend. That part is just for me, though.”

He sighed, dropping his head so their foreheads touched. “I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I always will be.”

“Maybe I can get one more kiss?” Deuce said shyly, feeling himself blush again. “For good luck.”

She smiled up at him. “Sure, for luck.”

Just as their lips were about to brush, the door slammed open. “What’s the hold up, Juice?” Ace said, storming in. “The first-years are getting antsy out there and - oh, I see.” He grinned wickedly and cocked an eyebrow. “Nevermind, this is much more important.”

Deuce grabbed the scepter that came with the House Warden uniform. He pointed it at Ace, shouting, “Off with your head!”

Ace cringed back, arms coming up to shield himself. When nothing happened, he looked up, annoyed.“Hey, that’s not your spell!”

“No,” Deuce said, grinning. “But I can still whack you with this thing!”

Deuce chased Ace out of the room, waving the scepter. As Ace dashed down the hall, Deuce felt (Y/N) slip her hand into his. She kissed his cheek. “Come on, House Warden,” She said. “There’s a whole school year waiting for us.”

Cater

“We on in three, Cater,” The producer said. Cater gave a thumbs up, occupied by the makeup team readjusting his cover so his face didn’t shine under the lights on camera. Behind them, the Shaftland’s Glass Slipper Gala was starting up, celebrities of all ilk stepping out of limos to walk the red carpet and show off the cutting edge of fashion.

Cater took one more swig of water, brushing invisible dust from his blazer jacket, and fixed his most dazzling smile. “Alright, ready when you are!”

“Okay, get ready everyone!” The producer said, readjusting her earpiece. “We’re a go in 5, 4, 3…” She mouthed the last two numbers, pointing to Cater as a blinking red light turned on on the camera.

“Welcome, Shaftlands!” Cater said into his handheld microphone, winking to the camera. “It’s your favorite pop culture and social media consultant, Cater! We’re here at the Glass Slipper Gala, the annual exhibition for all things gorgeous, over the top, and innovative! Let’s see who we can find on the red carpet.”

Cater waved over a few celebrities, getting quotes that, the next day, would be plastered on the front cover of numerous magazines and social websites. People found it hard not to match his energy, smiling and laughing along.

Cater had just waved off a rising movie star when he saw someone familiar from the corner of his eye. Weaving their way through the throngs of media, cameras, and various fans hoping to get a glimpse of their bias, (Y/N) gave Cater a little wave. She held up a tray with three cardboard to-go cups, the symbol of his favorite coffee shop emblazoned on the front. Cater cried with delight and beelined it for her. The producer started waving frantically as the cameraman followed his movement with a questioning look.

“We have a super special treat for you, viewers!” Cater said. (Y/N) blinked in surprise as Cater slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling into a sideways hug. “My wonderful, adorable girlfriend is here! Say hi, sweetie!”

“Umm, hi?” She held up the tray. “I thought you guys might need a break so I brought you a pick-me-up. A blond roast with three shots of vanilla and milk, green tea with half-and-half, and,” She picked up the last cup and handed it to Cater. “An iced chai latte, size medium but put into a large size so there’s room to mix in extra cinnamon, using oat milk instead of dairy, two pumps brown sugar syrup, one pump mocha syrup, two pumps cinnamon dolce syrup, three shots espresso, cinnamon dusting, and vanilla sweet cream foam.”

“She even knows my order!” Cater swooned, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Viewers, have you ever seen a more perfect person in the whole wide world?”

“Uh, Cater?”

“Pretty, smart, and super sweet. What more could you ask for? Well, you all know I like things a little more spicy than sweet, but my girl has that in spades, too, just between us.”

“Should you really be saying this on air?”

Cater shrugged. “They can edit it all out in post.” “Cater,” The producer said, deadpan. “We’re live right now.”

(Y/N) gasped as Cater blinked, staring into the single black eye of the camera. The cameraman smiled and shrugged.

“Oh, well then,” Cater said. In a second, his sparkling smile returned. “Then we should give them a show, right?”

“Cater, wha-”

Before she could say anything else, Cater plucked the coffee from (Y/N)’s hands, setting it gently on the ground with his microphone. He jumped back up, taking her into his arms in a low dip, kissing her amid a flurry of flashing lights.

Trey

The bell above the door had been ringing constantly all day. The small storefront was full to bursting, children pressing their faces against the glass display case to point at every confection they wanted their parents to buy. Shop assistants in crisp mint green and white uniforms handed white boxes over the counter to eager hands. Two others maneuvered extra seating outside under an awning to help combat the surplus customers.

A teen with emerald green hair escaped into the attached kitchen, taking a deep breath of relief. “Well, big brother,” He said. “I think it’s safe to say the grand re-opening is a success.”

Trey chuckled from the counter, squeezing buttercream to swirl atop enough cupcakes to feed an army. After a fire halfway destroyed this family’s bakery several months ago, there had been talks of shutting down the business entirely and joining up with some of the bigger corporate shops in town. Trey had scrimped and saved and planned to recreate the shop to his own specifics, making sure to blend years upon years of Clover secret family recipes with his new creations. They were still constructing a new upper level for a specialty dining experience. Patrons would pay a flat sum for a pre-arranged dessert tasting menu set up like a full 6-course dinner, using cutting edge technology, foams and gelatin beads and liquid nitrogen ice cream and all the works. There was already a waiting list for reservations.

“Uh, Chef?” Another worker poked their head through the door. “You have some people out here asking for you.”

Trey smiled, whipping his hands on his apron. He quickly directed the other pastry chefs in the kitchen then headed out. The group of Heartslabyul graduates, plus Chenya, Grim, and (Y/N), had taken over one of the outside tables. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were competing to see who could fit more cupcakes into their mouth at once while Riddle chided them. Cater was rearranging his plate of mini-tarts, eclairs, and macarons to take the best pictures. Chenya was sneaking treats off everyone’s plate while they were preoccupied. (Y/N) noticed Trey first, smiling wide and standing to meet him.

“There’s the man of the hour,” She said, meeting him in a hug.

“So, Trey,” Ace asked with a sly look. “How many free samples are we getting today?”

“Didn’t you get enough when Trey was practicing his new recipes?” Riddle scoffed.

“You can never get enough of Trey’s baking!” Grim cheered, taking a large bite of another cream puff as creme anglaise bursted all over his furry face.

Riddle huffed at the display of bad manners before turning to Trey with a smile. “Congratulations are definitely in order. Everything is looking even better than you described.”

“It was a lot of hard work,” Trey said. “I didn’t think we were going to make it a few times.”

(Y/N) shoved him. “Oh, stop. You had perfect control the whole time. No one ever doubted you. Especially me.” She pulled him down for a kiss.

“Bleh!” Grim stuck out his tongue. “Not when I’m eating!”

(Y/N) smiled wickedly and pulled Trey down to pepper kisses all over his face. Grim, Ace, and Deuce made mocking sounds of disgust before bursting into laughter.

As everyone refocused on their pastries, (Y/N) leaned over to whisper to Trey. “Should we tell them?” (Y/N) asked.

“Not yet,” Trey said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I want to keep you to myself for a little while longer.”

Behind their backs, the held hands, matching rings glinting in the light.

Riddle

Riddle jerked awake at the feeling of hands on his shoulders. He heard an “Oh!” of surprise. A blanket slipped off his shoulders, pooling on the floor. He was sitting at a desk illuminated by a single lamp, the rest of the lights in the small bedroom turned off. Through the window blinds, he could see it was dark outside. He turned to the person behind him who had tried to drape the blanket over him.

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Riddle rubbed at his tired eyes, peeling off a loose leaf of notebook paper that was stuck to his cheek. He looked down at the mess of notes and textbooks littering his desk. “No, it’s a good thing,” He said. “I don’t have time for sleep right now. I need to study.”

(Y/N) frowned at him. “You need sleep, Riddle. You won’t do yourself any good if you fall asleep in the middle of the bar exam.”

Riddle turned back to his desk, rearranging various documents on magical law and court cases. “A good lawyer needs to be prepared for whatever is thrown at him.” “A good lawyer needs to be able to balance work and rest.”

“I-” Riddle sighed.

“At least let me make you some tea and take a break,” (Y/N) said, picking up the blanket and folding it over her arm.

Riddle yawned, blushing at how loud it was. “That’s… a good idea. Thank you.”

(Y/N) smiled at him, leaning down to kiss his forehead before walking over to the tiny kitchen.

Riddle looked around. They were in a small studio apartment. Riddle’s desk was shoved to one side of the room, a bed on the opposite side, blankets thrown open as if someone had just gotten out. He saw his shoes next to the doorway, neatly arranged, next to (Y/N)’s. A slightly ajar closet door showed it was split between his formal attire and (Y/N)’s clothes. They had been living together for a while, it seemed.

The bar exam was only a few days away. Five years of grueling school was all leading up to this moment. He’d heard too many stories about how it usually took two or three tries for most people to pass. He was determined to pass on the first try, to prove to himself, and maybe his mother, that he had made the right choice. In his career, in his life, in his partner…

Riddle looked back at (Y/N) in the small connected kitchen, making sure she was busy with the tea. He opened the top drawer of his desk, just enough to peak inside. The box was still there, small black velvet, holding the ring inside. It was plain, just a simple silver band, polished to a shine by his own hand, but it was all he could afford. Originally, he had wanted to use his mother’s ring, the ring that had been passed down his family for generations, supposedly back to the time of the Queen of Hearts herself. But Riddle’s mother hardly approved of his chosen profession over going into the medical field, much less his partner. He remembered the screaming match they had had, how she was absolutely appalled Riddle would want to be associated with someone with no magic, no future as she put it, not to mention no family lineage to speak of. Riddle hadn’t spoken to her in quite some time.

Riddle sighed, closing the drawer. (Y/N) had worked hard these past few years, supporting the two of them while Riddle focused on school. She’d always said it was no problem, that she was happy to work whatever odd job she could so Riddle could focus all his energy on his studies. The least he could do was make a name for himself as a lawyer, provide her with the life she deserved.

She set a tea cup down in front of him. “Here,” She said. “With honey, not sugar.” Taking her own cup, she sat on the bed facing him. “And you’re not going to look at those notes again until you finish drinking it and talk to me.”

Riddle picked up the cup, letting the warmth of the tea soak into his hands. He cast a glance at the drawer with its loaded secret within.

“Actually,” He said. “There is something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

Leona

Leona ducked, sliding across the field as a Spelldrive disk hurdled over his head. Immediately, he was back on his feet, throwing up a magical shield as the disk crashed back towards him.

The crowded stadium roared around him, stands packed to bursting. Fans wore team colors, red and gold for his Sunset Savannah team, the Lion Guard, and icy blue and white for the Shaftland’s team they were playing against, the Draugrs.

“Captain!” A voice called behind him. Leona turned to see one of his teammates fly next to him on a broom. “You okay?”

Leona brushed off the grass stain on his uniform. “I’m fine. We’re starting the new play, the one we practiced yesterday.”

His teammate balked. “Are we ready for that? We’ve only practiced it a few times, and never in a game. There’s only a minute left on the clock!”

“Then we’re running out of time!” Leona snarled. “We’re tied. This is our chance to take the game.”

The flying teammate saluted. “Sir, yes, sir!” He flew up, whistling a code to let the other players know to get in position. A few of them cast worried glances Leona’s way, but their trust in their team captain was obvious as they quickly fell into position.

Leona fell back as the ground members of his team made an arrow shape ahead of the opposing player who currently held the disk. Suddenly, as the flier crossed the 20-yard line, they inverted. The two flanking the point of the arrow knelt in front of the player at the tip. He jumped to their waiting hands, being launched into the air. The player with the disk reared his broom back, not expecting a ground assault. The player who had been thrown in the air took the opportunistic distraction to claim the disk, hurdling it to a flier on the Sunset Savanna team. The flier took the disk, hovering it a foot from him with magic, and shot back to the opposing team’s goal. As the Draugr broom flying players closed in on him, he dropped the disk without warning, to the waiting hands of a ground player. The ground player dashed forward, dodging tackles from the opposing team. As they closed in on him, he tossed the disk back to a flier. This repeated twice more until the opposing team got used to the play. When another ground player got the disk, sprinting to the goal, all Shaftlands players were focused on the flier hovering above him. The ground player faked throwing the disk up and the opposing team jerked their focus upward. Instead, the ground player flung the disk to Leona’s waiting hands. In the seconds it took for the other team to recognize the play, Leona was already steps away from the goal. He flung the disk, boosted with his own magical energy, and it sailed cleanly through the opposing team’s hoop.

The crowd thundered around him as the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game. Leona took a deep breath, throwing his head back in a victorious roar. The rest of his team joined in, supporting their captain, whooping and cheering to their heart's content.

The team gathered together, slapping each other on the back and jumping in congratulatory victory. A few of them cast sly looks Leona’s way, and before he could question it, he was soaked with an overturned cooler of bright green sports drink. They all laughed as he flung excess droplets at them.

As the championship cup was brought out, Leona’s ears twitched as a sound. He turned and heard them repeat themselves. “Leona!” (Y/N) ran onto the field, smiling wide. She was wearing an old jersey of his, the one he had when he first joined the pro Spelldrive leagues. She waved her hand high over her head, the light catching on a topaz and diamond ring on her finger.

He surged forward to meet her, wrapping her in a tight embrace and lifting her up. Without either of them noticing, a camera focused on their reunion, projecting their image on the jumbotron as they embraced and shared a victory kiss.

Jack

Jack held up a hand, stopping the rest of the search and rescue team following behind him. They were trekking up the North Mountain, a popular peak in the backlands in a Shaftlands national park. The snow was more than seven feet deep, and even with their specialized snow shoes they were starting to sink down. They were on the far side of the mountain, bright sunlight blazing across the snow that had been churned up from a recent avalanche.

“What’s up, chief?” One of the rescue workers asked, readjusting his EMT pack on his shoulders.

Jack’s ears twitched, trying to pick up the sound he was sure he had just heard. He turned back to his team. “This is the last place the skiers were seen. Everybody fan out to your lanes and start searching.”

The group spread out, each taking a 40 meter lane as they walked downhill. Each member of the search and rescue team held a thermal meter reader, strong enough to pierce through the snow cover up to 15 meters down. They also inspected the snow for any other sign of disturbance, trying to see if anyone was moving underneath.

Jack’s ears twitched again, picking up on the minute noise underneath him. He checked his reader, seeing an orange mass that was quickly turning blue.

“Spotted, 35 meters!” He called out. He unfurled a long thin pole from his pack, carefully jabbing down into the snow. When he met resistance, he slung his pack off and put together his collapsible shovel. He started scooping snow away, flakes swirling up to stick against his eyelashes. Finally about three feet down, he saw a splash of a red coat. He widened his digging circle. “Victim found!”

The most important thing at the moment was getting the buried person an airway. Jack heaved snow away, using his hands now so he wouldn’t accidentally injure the victim. He heard another one of the rescuers repeat his cry further down, “Victim found!”

Jack could see the victim breathing, their breath melting a small indent around their nose and mouth. Jack ripped off his glove with his teeth, feeling for a pulse on their neck. It was faint, but it was there. He couldn’t see any visible wounds. The next most important part was getting them out of the snow while moving them as little as possible in case there were any internal or spine related injuries.

Another rescuer came over to him. “My lane’s clear, sir. Can I help?”

Jack nodded. “Go get the sled and stabilizing bands.” He saluted, making his way back up. Their team worked with dogsleds for evacuation in these parts, since it was generally less heavy than a snowmobile, and much quieter to avoid any other disruptions.

Soon, the three missing skiers were loaded up in the sleds. Jack ran through his paramedic training in his head, making sure he and his team weren’t missing anything before they would head back to their base at the foot of the mountain.

Arriving down, the team moved the victims, two of whom were coming back to consciousness, into a more comfortable and much warmer infirmary. The hospital in the nearby town had already been notified and was sending an ambulance to bring them back for further care.

After making sure everyone was stable and the victims were being treated for any signs of hypothermia, Jack stepped into the mudroom attached to their rescue station, shaking his head and stomping his boots free from snow.

“The ambulance will be here in about half an hour,” He heard behind him. He turned, seeing (Y/N) in the doorway, holding a steaming mug of pear tea. She wore a uniform similar to his, indicating they were part park ranger, part emergency rescue team. She smiled softly and handed it to him. “They said they had to take a different route around due to the avalanche. I guess it went farther than we thought.”

Jack sipped the tea, letting the warmth infuse into his muscles. “Once we get these guys taken care of we’ll have to head back out, then. Try to take stock of any damage.”

“The other teams have reported back already. Everyone’s been accounted for. Looks like your lot was in the worst shape. It’s a good thing they have you looking out for them, huh?”

Jack looked away, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, we have a big team. Everyone’s doing their part.”

“And you're the one who trained them. You’re the one who set up this whole search and rescue station. All those people there,” she waved in the direction of the treatment beds, the people pulled out of the snow, slowly warming themselves by the fireplace and with warm drinks. “Owe it all to you. You’re allowed to brag about it sometimes, you know.”

Jack felt his face growing hot, tail starting to wag despite himself under her praise. “Well, maybe I just have a really good team.”

(Y/N) hummed, standing on her tiptoes and reaching a hand up, threading through his short hair to pull his face down to her level. “And I wouldn’t want to be on any one else’s,” She murmured against his lips as they kissed.

Ruggie

Politics were messy. Ruggie always knew that, but being here in the middle of it all showed him the full web of underhandedness, plotting, and secrets. But, as the Sunset Savannah’s royal family’s, or more directly Leona’s, personal spy master, that’s exactly what he was there for.

Now, during his days at NRC, when Ruggie first started working as Leona’s unofficial personal assistant, lurking around, being a little more than underhanded in his dealings, did he ever expect he would one day be sneaking around an embassy in the middle of a grand party, planning on swiping some important documents that could reveal plots against the crown? No, of course not. But, man, was it still fun.

As he slunk along the corridors, Ruggie eyed the attendance, each dripping with enough jewelry and finery to feed a family of four for a year. He inwardly sneered, hand shooting out to discreetly pocket a diamond bracelet some ambassador's wife, or more likely his mistress, was wearing. But ill gotten treasure wasn’t what he was here for, at least, not today.

Ruggie cut through a servant’s entrance, turning his coat inside out, turning it from red velvet of party goers to the matte black of the help. He thought it was too easy sometimes. People always saw what they wanted to see. Heading up to the upper floors of the embassy, he spied some hired goons waltzing around the room he needed to enter. Ruggie stayed as far back in the shadows as he could while tracking the one guard who stood a little too close to the stairs.

“Laugh with me,” Ruggie murmured, casting his signature spell. He jerked his body to the side, causing the goon to stumble and crash down the stairs. To anyone else, it would have looked like he had too much to drink on the job, or had simply slipped. As the other guards were busy checking with their companion, Ruggie darted behind them, slipping into the room unseen. He made quick work, sniffing out the hidden safe, and picked the lock so easily he was almost afraid he was being set up. Securing the documents in the hidden pocket inside his jacket, Ruggie effortlessly slipped out the window, down the drive, and off into the night.

Later that night, Ruggie shook off the rain as he stepped inside the lobby of Granny Bucchi’s Memorial Home for Lost Children. It was dark, everyone fast asleep upstairs. In the morning, all the children the Home housed would wake up, eat a hearty breakfast, one Ruggie could have only ever dreamed about at their age, and go to school in the attached building. Ruggie didn’t know exactly what strings Leona pulled to get such high class teachers for the Home, but he had learned long ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As Ruggie was about to head up the stairs to the caretaker's quarters, he noticed the lamp light coming from the side sitting room. Ruggie carefully stalked over to the other room, careful to avoid the floor boards that squeaked. He peered in, the warm light of a floor lamp illuminating (Y/N) on a rocking chair, a toddler hyena beastman fast asleep on her chest. Ruggie leaned against the doorframe, smiling gently at the domestic scene.

(Y/N) stirred, af if sensing being watched. She blinked sleepily, smiling up at him. “Welcome home,” She whispered. “Everything go well?”

(Y/N) knew just enough about Ruggie’s work, but never pried. They both knew well enough that Ruggie would immediately spill any secrets if she fluttered her eyelashes and gave him one of those sweet smiles. “Flawless, as usual.” He stepped forward, taking the small boy from her arms. His ears twitched as he was passed between them but stayed asleep.

“He’s finally been sleeping through the night,” (Y/N) said. “But he had a nightmare earlier. He wanted to wait for you to get home.”

“Aww, A for effort.”

They walked upstairs to the children’s dormitory rooms, settling the small boy in his bed and tucking the blankets over him.

“They’re having their field day tomorrow,” (Y/N) said as they entered their shared room. She sat on the bed as Ruggie kicked off his shoes. “Will you be here? The kids always love to see you.”

He flopped down on the bed next to her with a sigh, arms behind his head. “Wouldn’t miss it! It’s amazing how much energy those kiddos have. You think we were ever like that?”

“Me? No, probably not. I can see you zipping around everywhere, though.”

“Oh, yeah, I was fleet footed. You gotta be quick to pick pockets, you know.” She halfheartedly punched him as he snickered.

“Do you ever think-?” She stared before cutting herself off.

“Only sometimes,” He joked. “I hear it’s a dangerous habit.” He waited for a moment then asked, “Think about what?”

(Y/N) looked back in the direction of the children’s dormitory, each level for a set of age groups from the babies all the way to the teenagers. “You know, about having our own.”

Azul

Azul flitted around the room, jumping from conversation to conversion, getting just enough of a word in to be memorable, to make a good impression. So far, this, the grand opening of the Mostro Lounge, was a success. More than a success, it had drawn all ilk of upper crust society. Politicians, celebrities, heirs and heiresses with nothing better to do but try and get their picture in the next tabloid. Horderves were being passed, champagne was being popped, and, subtly, between it all, waiters were gathering secrets and snips of conversations from their patrons.

The Monstro Lounge worked on two fronts, both carefully cultivated and maintained. The first was the face, the elegant restaurant and tea room that welcomed guests to treat them with all the luxury of the world. The second was more nefarious, the dagger hidden behind the back. Important clientele meant important discussions, important secrets, and important dealings. Whether or not these things were entirely legal didn’t much matter to Azul, just so long as he was in on them.

It was important that at least most of their patrons didn’t notice the dagger. It was better for them to let their guard down, enjoy their night of revelry and relaxation. And Azul, with his charming smile, silver tongue, and perfectly business-like attitude, acted as the perfect cover.

Azul was mingling with a group of bankers when he felt a gentle hand clasp his arm. “Excuse me,” (Y/N) said. “I’m afraid I need to steal my fiance for a moment.” The bankers held up their glasses in a cheers as she led him away. She glittered in a black sequin dress, pearls at her throat. On her hand was a delicate pearl and pink coral ring, the coral arranged like flower petals around the pearl.

“Is anything wrong, angelfish?” Azul asked as they strolled through the lobby.

(Y/N) hummed. “Maybe I just wanted some time with you. I’m allowed to be selfish like that every once and a while, aren't I?”

“Of course. I think I like when you’re selfish.”

An ignorant observer might have commented that (Y/N) made quite the trophy on Azul’s arm, but those in the know were quick to correct any misconceptions. (Y/N) was just in touch with both sides of the Monstro Lounge as Azul, just as involved. If any of Azul’s more unscrupulous dealings or shady past came up, it was easy for one to dismiss pressing concerns. After all, look at his soon-to-be wife! (Y/N) was more than capable of smoothing over any worries or uneasy feelings. And, possibly more importantly, keeping some of Azul’s more underhanded ambitions in check.

“Zuzu!” Azul nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard his mother’s voice. (Y/N) took a skilled step back to allow room for Mrs. Ashengrotto to envelope Azul in the kind of hug only a proud mother could give. Of course, the hug was missing a few limbs since Mrs. Ashengrotto was currently in human form, but it was still just as tight. She kissed both his cheeks and, while Azul was always happy to see his mother and show off his accomplishments, he couldn’t help but cringe at how the act tainted the elegant and stern reputation he was building for himself. Releasing him, she turned to her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. (Y/N) accepted her hug with a little more grace, the benefit of seeing an affectionate attack coming.

Azul readjusted his glasses, greeting his mother and step-father. “I’m glad you both were able to make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” His step-father said, giving him a firm handshake and warm pat on the back.

His mother had started to tear up, (Y/N) patting her hand sympathetically. “Oh, my. My little Azul, all grown up. I remember when you were just a little fry, darting in your octopot at anything. Look how big my boy has gotten! Have you been eating well, Zuzu? You look so thin!”

“Why don’t we grab a table?” (Y/N) neatly interjected. Azul cast her a grateful look and quickly waved a waiter over who brought the small group to a VIP section. An aquarium that took up the entire back wall cast elegant blue light over the private section.

After the waiter took their drink order, Mrs. Ashengrotto laid her hands flat on the table, looking seriously at Azul and (Y/N). “Now,” She said. “When can I expect grandchildren?”

Jade

“Anglerfish,” (Y/N) said.

Jade grinned, turning back to her as he held his lantern high. “What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Jade smiled, looked down at (Y/N) as she zipped their tent closed. The cool spring night air swirled around them, moon bright and sky clear.

While Jade mostly lived in the Coral Sea, studying with his parents to prepare to take over the family business, part of his heart would always remain up in the mountains. He’d published a book last year, Roots of the Earth: Flora, Fauna, and Folklore of the Bald Mountains, which had become a bestseller almost overnight. In depth discussions and depictions of dry land environments were apparently pretty popular underwater. His publisher had been eager for a follow up. Which led him here, camping in the Mount Moln mountain range, ready to set off on an overnight exploration.

He didn’t, however, expect certain company. Not that he minded (Y/N)’s presence. Quite the opposite in fact.

While she hadn’t been an official member of the Mountain Lovers club back at NRC, she had participated in a few hiking trips, whenever her schedule, or Crowley, would allow. They hadn’t seen much of each other in person since Jade graduated, but they did exchange correspondence regularly. Jade knew that (Y/N) kept up with everyone from NRC in a similar fashion, but couldn’t help hoping that his particular letters were a little special. At least, the ones he sent back to her were.

When Jade had arrived in Harveston the day before his expedition, he was surprised to see her with the lilac haired Felmier family. (Y/N) had cried in delight and thrown her arms around him, making his heart speed up in a not unpleasant way. Over tea, (Y/N) had told him that she had mostly been jumping around Twisted Wonderland, still trying to find a more permanent place in a land she wasn't native to. With the apple planting season coming up, Epel’s family had offered a position, one she had eagerly accepted. And, when he slyly implied that he would need assistance traversing the mountain and keeping track of his gear and research, she had enthusiastically agreed. They both decided to ignore the knowing glances from Grandma Felmier.

They had risen before the sun that next morning, beginning their trek up Mount Moln. While the weather was defiantly warming, small clumps of snow still stubbornly clung on the higher they climbed. They’d made camp early, with the sun still up, digging into warm soup the Felmier’s had prepared for them, before turning in. They knew they would be getting up in the middle of the night, so they tried to get as much sleep as possible beforehand.

Which brought them back to the present, Jade sweeping his lantern across the trail with (Y/N) staying close behind.

“So,” (Y/N) said. “Remind me what we’re looking for?”

“Panellus pusillus,” Jade said. “Otherwise known as the little ping-pong bat mushroom.”

(Y/N) snorted a laugh. “That’s pretty cute.”

“They are bioluminescent. During the day they look like normal white fan-like mushrooms. But at night they glow beautifully. They wrap around tree branches so they often look like string lights. I’ve been wanting to take back a few samples for my project back in the Coral Sea.”

“For your next book?”

“That, and something else. I’ve been working on an underwater biome meant to replicate various ecosystems from the mountains I’ve traversed here on land. It would allow sea-dwellers a chance to experience environments they normally wouldn’t be exposed to. I’m still gathering funds, but I think it will be a fascinating experiment when completed.”

“Sounds like a big undertaking.”

“Definitely.” Jade cast a glance over his shoulder, meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. He quickly looked away again, holding the lantern out a little farther so (Y/N) wouldn’t notice the red tint to his cheeks. He only ever had to worry about that in human form. “I’ve actually been gathering a team to help me set everything up. Having someone native to land would provide a unique perspective. If you would be interested, after your work in the orchards here. I wouldn’t want to impose on any previous commitments.”

“I don’t think you could impose on me even if you wanted to.” Jade stopped, turning around to fully face her. He watched (Y/N) gulp, readying herself, before she took a step forward. They were just a breath apart from each other now. Her hand reached out, stopping between them. “I - I’ve really missed you. I didn’t expect to this much, but then you showed back up and it kind of punched me in the gut all at once. Sorry, I feel like I’m not saying this the right way. But… I really missed you.”

Jade let the silence sink in as his thoughts turned in his head. Crickets, owls, and other night creatures filled the air with their songs. (Y/N) looked down, shuffling her feet. Jade transferred his lantern to his other hand, reaching forward and taking hers.

“My,” He said with a teasing grin. “This is certainly unexpected. Not unwelcome, of course. What would you do if I said I harbored similar feelings?”

Underneath the soft glow of mushrooms overhead, (Y/N) stood on her toes and kissed him.

Floyd

Suffice to say, most people were pretty surprised when Floyd decided to take an engineering course for the first leg of his NRC 4th year internship. With his happy-go-lucky and action-first personality, it was easy to forget that he was surprisingly good with technical skills. Even still, most people assumed he would get bored soon, skipping off to a more physically exciting internship for the next quarter. However, he stayed for the entire year. It definitely helped that the particular engineers he had partnered with specialized in roller coasters.

And now, here he was, standing in the middle of a brand new theme park just a few weeks away from opening. When he had first approached Kalim for funding for his dream project he hadn’t expected much resistance. After all, both boys could appreciate a good time, whether from an over-the-top party or an exhilarating thrill ride.

Floyd’s specific idea was for a theme park both land dwellers and merpeople could enjoy simultaneously. This led to the unique structure of Marine Canyon. The theme park was nestled perfectly in a natural canyon carved out thousands of years ago by glaciers. A slim river still ran through the canyon. Half the park was located in the canyon while the second half descended underneath the water of the sea the river emptied in. Guests would be able to easily traverse either side, either by assistance of underwater breathing potions, temporary form transformation potions, or a clever half-scuba half-submersible vehicle Floyd had designed when (Y/N) first met his parents.

He stood with his hands on his hips, watching the cars roll along the track of one of the premier coasters in a test run. Everything was going perfectly. In a few days, Kalim would be coming out for the last run-through of testing and they would launch for a media day before officially opening the park.

“Papa!”

Floyd turned, wide smile getting even bigger. He crouched down, opening his arms, as one of his sons rushed to meet him. He swept Argonaut up in his arms, spinning him around as the boy cackled. He threw his arms around Floyd’s neck, waving at the two others approaching. (Y/N) waved back, walking over with their other son, Caspian.

“Do we get to ride it now, Papa? Can we, can we?” Argo asked giddy, bouncing up and down.

Cas cast a wary look up at the empty car plunging down the coaster track. “Can we go in the dark ride first? The pirate one?”

Floyd ruffled his hair as (Y/N) answered, “We still have to wait for the safety checks to make sure everything is working properly.”

“But,” Floyd told the twins. “The water park part is ready! And we need testers to make sure it’s fun for humans and mers. Do you know anyone who could help me with that?”

“Me, me, me!”

“We can do that! We’re human and mer!”

The boys wiggled their ways out of their parents arms and dashed off, already kicking off their shoes in anticipation for changing from their dry land form to their eel-mer hybrid form.

“Be careful running!” (Y/N) called after them. She sighed as Floyd came over, wrapping her in a backwards hug and resting his chin on the top of her head. “They really do like going between the land and sea. Do you think they have a favorite form?”

Floyd hummed. “Don’t know. I like both of them. It’s just all different, you know? But they can use both their forms here. They can be with all their family and friends at the same time.”

“Is that why you wanted to build it like this? You’re really kind, aren’t you?”

Floyd grinned. “Only for Shrimpy and the guppies. Don’t let anyone else know, okay? I still have a reputation, you know.”

(Y/N) poked his side. “Ooh, scary Floyd Leech, big bad family man. Don’t think I don’t remember you crying on the boys’ first day of school.”

Floyd sniffed. “My guppies aren’t going to be guppies any more! What am I going to do when they get too big to carry, or when they go to NRC and we can’t see them everyday?”

(Y/N) took his hand and started pulling him in the direction the boys had darted off in. “Then I guess we just need to make the most of the time we have with them now, right?”

Floyd tightened his grip on her hand, smiling wickedly. “Or we could just make more guppies.”

Kalim

“Mr. Al–Asim, I need your signature here, please.”

“Mr. Al-Asim, when would you like to schedule our shareholder meeting?”

“Mr. Al-Asim, I have those reports and next quarter’s budget for you to review.”

Kalim was drained. While he was more than proud that he had managed to expand his family’s business to not only the sea but also the Briar Valley, he didn’t quite anticipate all the paperwork that would come with it. Now that Jamil was off leading his own life outside of the Asim influence, Kalim had taken on more responsibilities. Not that he wasn’t happy for Jamil, of course. He was thrilled when his friend told him of his plans after graduating NRC, even if those plans didn’t directly involve Kalim. Kalim was mostly just happy that Jamil seemed happy. But he did still miss Jamil’s presence, his guidance, how he always knew what to say.

Kalim groaned, falling face first on his bed, not bothering to change clothes. Warm evening sun streamed in from the balcony windows, casting golden rays across the room. (Y/N) blinked at him from her side of the bed, sliding a bookmark in her book. She leaned over to him, gently petting his hair.

“Rough day?” She asked.

Kalim groaned again, twisting to catch (Y/N) in his arms so they crashed down together in a tangled hug. “There’s so much paperwork!” He lamented. “Why do we still even have so much paper? Isn’t it better for the environment if we use digital or something?” He sniffed, eyes watery. “Just think of all those birds whose trees we cut down.”

“With great accomplishment comes great busy work,” (Y/N) nodded sagely. “It just shows how much so many people are relying on you.”

“I guess,” Kamil muttered into her hair. He suddenly perked up. “Oh! I own the company, so maybe I can just tell everyone they have the day off tomorrow!”

“Maybe, but then you and everyone else would just have a backlog of work when they come back.”

Kalim face planted back onto the bed. (Y/N) regarded him for a moment before sliding out of bed. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Kalim gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

As (Y/N) padded out of the room, Kalim kicked his shoes off, curling up on the bed. He grabbed her plush pillow, holding it to his chest. Hints of her fragrant shampoo still clung to it.

Kalim didn’t think he could ever really express how grateful he was to have (Y/N) with him. Not only had she worked hard to repair his and Jamil’s relationship at NRC, but she gave him the in that helped him bring the Asim name to the Briar Valley in the first place. The land of night fairies was notoriously difficult to expand foreign trade to. But (Y/N) with her easy way of making friends and stubborn determination had given him the connections he needed to do something no other Asim had. He signed again, happily this time. It was just another reason he was so glad that she was going to marry him.

(Y/N) nudged the door open with her hip. She carried a large silver tray holding a pot of spiced hot chocolate and several small plates with cake slices. “We still need to choose a wedding cake flavor,” She said. “Your mom has been asking me about finalizing details. We’re going to look at takchitas this weekend.”

Kalim popped back up, a wave of fresh energy zipping through him. A party! This he could do. Not just any party, but possibly the most important party of his life! He and (Y/N) spent the next hour discussing wedding plans, colors and flowers and music. In between, they would eat bites of cake, chocolate, champagne strawberry, vanilla with raspberry filling, orange olive oil. At one point, Kalim smeared some frosting on his nose. At her laughing, Kalim took a forkful of fluffy buttercream and painted it across her nose. They collapsed together in a giggling fit.

“How about I come with you tomorrow?” (Y/N) asked. “I should start learning everything anyway. I want to be helpful to you.”

“You’re always helpful! Look, I'm feeling way better already!”

“I think that might be the sugar rush.”

As the sun set, the two of them lay together, crumbs of cake and the empty chocolate pot soon forgotten. As (Y/N) fell asleep in Kalim’s arms, he quietly said, “I can’t wait to be married to you, azizati.”

Jamil

The air conditioning in the dance studio had gone out a few days ago and it quickly became sweltering with the aerobic activity. (Y/N) had drug in a large swiveling electric fan at some point that was working overtime to try and cool the room. Jamil whipped sweat off his forehead, watching the soon to debut idol group run through their routine again. Jamil had been working as the lead choreographer for Corona Talent for about a year now. While the agency was still relatively small, they were picking up preeminence, especially with their stylized music videos.

“Figaro,” Jamil said to a cat beastman with black and white hair. “You need to work on controlling your tail. Having it flick around like that makes you look nervous. Sebastian, I know you’re still getting used to your land legs but remember to not lock up your knees, it makes you jerk and you’re more likely to fall. Let’s go back to just before the switch line and take it again.”

While Jamil’s teaching style could easily be described as strict, no one could deny his results and the quick time in which he produced them.

A little while later, and combating fears of overheating, Jamil called a water break. The group of boys formed a semicircle around the fan waiting for it to oscillate over their faces. Jamil watched them chat in benign amusement. They were about as old as he had been during the Song and Dance Championship at NRC. Jamil would never admit it, but he had recycled some of Vil’s methods during their training in the Ramshackle dorm.

And speaking of NRC, his phone pinged. Jamil knew who it was before he even looked at the screen.

Kalim: Jamil! I had an idea for the wedding! What if we have a grand entrance with you riding an elephant?

Jamil: You know (Y/N) and I aren’t even engaged yet.

Kalim: I’m planning ahead! It’s good to be ready.

Jamil: No elephants.

Kalim: What about peacocks? Or birds that warble on key? Or a tiger!

Jamil: Do I even want to know where you’re getting these animals?

Kalim: ~Secret~

Jamil laughed under his breath. Ever since he and (Y/N) had started dating during her last year at NRC, Kalim had basically been planning their wedding. When he had given Jamil two tickets on a week-long river cruise for his birthday last year he had called it a pre-honeymoon.

And speaking of…

Jamil’s phone pinged again with a video attachment from (Y/N). The video showed (Y/N) next to a perch with a red and green macaw parrot. “Come on, Alfie,” (Y/N) prompted. “Show Dad your new trick.”

The parrot tilted his head to think for a moment before tilting to the side and raising a claw in a wave. “Love Dad!” It croaked. He then started vocalizing to the tune of one of the first songs Jamil choreographed for, bobbing his head and side stepping. (Y/N) hummed along, nodding encouragingly. The macaw stretched his wings wide and gave a victorious cry.

“Good job, Alfie!” (Y/N) praised, giving him a treat. Alfie shuffled onto her shoulder, nibbling the treat. “See you soon, Jamil. Love you.” (Y/N) blew a kiss to the screen, Alfie mimicking the sound. The video ended on a still frame of (Y/N)’s smiling face. Jamile smiled, content. Warmth, having nothing to do with the heat of the studio, filling his chest.

“Ooh,” One of the idol’s said, wiggling his eyebrows in Jamil’s direction. “Was that your girlfriend, Coach?” The other boys cooed and whooping in good natured teasing.

“Alright, Sven,” Jamil said, standing back up. “You just earned everyone another round of drills. Come on, on your marks.”

The boys groaned, taking their places. As they began stretching and doing calf raises, Jamil texted Kalim.

Jamil: Do you still have that jeweler’s number?

Kalim: :D

Vil

Vil double checked his lipstick in a compact mirror from the backseat of the limo. His eyes cut across the back cab to (Y/N) fiddling with the hem of her dress. “Stop fidgeting,” He said. “You’ll wrinkle your dress.”

(Y/N) jumped, smoothing her dress. “Sorry, just nervous, I guess.”

“Nerves cause wrinkles, too. Besides, there’s nothing to fret over. Star Crossed is destined to be a hit.”

Star Crossed was to be Vil’s first directorial debut, with (Y/N) taking a lead writing role for the script. The idea had come when the two had been discussing media back from (Y/N)’s world during one of Vil’s photoshoots. (Y/N) had been acting as somewhat of an unofficial assistant then. Although, and Vil would never admit this, he more just wanted an excuse to have her around. As they talked, (Y/N) made references to classic story ideas shared between both worlds, focusing on ideas of forbidden love. She gave a lyrical and poetic soliloquy, one that Vil immediately latched on to. She explained it was from a play called Romeo and Juliet, one of the most famous plays in her world and a story that had been retold countless times. She said it was standard school curriculum in her world and had memorized several passages for homework. Canceling the very hard to get dinner reservations the two had, they instead worked deep into the night, reworking the romantic tragedy between their two world’s cultural differences, writing the first draft of what would end up becoming Star Crossed.

“What if they don’t like the ending?” (Y/N) worried.

“Then they’re fools with no sense of depth.”

“But won’t that look bad for you? I don’t want a box office bomb to affect your career.”

“I assure you, nothing I’m associated with could bomb.” Although Vil wasn’t in the starring role for this film, instead preferring to focus on directing, he did keep a cameo as the rewritten Prince of Veronia, now the Prince of Fleur City.

“We kept a lot of the traditional language,” (Y/N) continued as if she hadn’t heard Vil. She looked out the window, the tall buildings and bustling crowds as they got closer to the theater. “Not word for word of the monologue, but still. You don’t think it was too old-fashioned or metaphorical?”

“Sweet potato, we’re going to the premier, you know. It’s a little late to be thinking about rewrites.”

(Y/N) sighed again, flattening her hands against her lap. “Yeah, you're right. The costumes were amazing, though.”

“That’s thanks to you as well, you know. Professor Crewel wouldn’t be willing to design for just anyone.”

(Y/N) smiled weakly. She fidgeted in her seat. She switched sides to sit next to Vil instead of across from him. He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Vil,” She said, choosing her words carefully. “I really liked working with you on this.”

“Well, you’re not the worst person to collaborate with either, (Y/N).”

“Would you want to, I mean, maybe later if you don’t have other projects already lined up, do you want to work together again? I mean, there’s a ton of Shakespeare plays. I don’t know all of them by heart or anything, but I know a good couple. Hamlet is dramatic with political intrigue, Much Ado About Nothing is a romantic comedy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is another romantic comedy with magic and everyone falling in love with the wrong person, well, that one has fairies so I don’t want to offend anyone or anything, oh, and Macbeth is all dark about going mad with power - people said it was cursed back in my world even if we didn’t have real curses, it was just something people said, you know, but I was also thinking maybe we could do others like Pride and Prejudice or if you want to do something completely different there’s this series called Star Wars that-”

Vil abruptly cut off (Y/N)’s ramblings with a kiss. There, in the back of the limo, it was just the two of them, alone in the world. No fans, no expectations, no competitions. Just them, and a warm growing feeling between them.

Vil pulled back, taking a moment to appreciate (Y/N)’s dazed face and bewildered smile. “I would love to work with you again, (Y/N). I’m not sure I would ever want to work with anyone else. Come, we’re here.”

An attendant opened the door of their limo, the roar of fans and flashing lights breaking the stillness on the cab. Vil stepped out in one graceful movement, lifting a hand in greeting. A red carpet stretched out before them, littered with other actors from the movie or celebrities there to give support. Vil leaned back, offering (Y/N) his hand. She stepped out of the cab, blinking at the sudden lights.

Vil tucked her arm through his, whispering, “Stick with me. I’m certain we can get through anything together.”

Rook

Rook flicked on his flashlight, illuminating the cavernous chamber. His team of archaeologists and researchers followed behind him, sliding down a rope through a ventilation shaft into the long buried and forgotten temple underneath an old gnarled tree.

“Is it what you thought it was, Hunt?” A fellow archaeologist asked him, shining her own light around the foreboding space.

“I’m not sure yet,” He replied. “But I think… Ah ha!” Rook cheered, bounding over to the far wall. He took out his magical pen, casting a fire spell into a trough of dark liquid that ran the perimeter of the chamber. It caught alight, flooding the room to showcase the detailed carvings and relief work decorated on the walls. The team gasped, immediately taking detailed notes of the pictographs and images. Carvings of mermaids in a grotto, a pirate ship looming off the coast of a tropical island, and what appeared to be a flying boy with his arms outstretched were just a few of the designs that had been painted and carved on the walls millennium ago.

“Magnifique!” Rook breathed in awe. “The Temple of the Second Star! Just as we thought!”

“Just as you thought, sir,” A stoat beast-man researched said. “Your instincts were spot on again.”

Rook preened but brushed off the comment. “Non, non, we’ve all put so much work into this discovery. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, n’est-ce pas? But, we’ve only begun our exploration. There’s something very important here I need to find.”

“Is that safe, sir?” The archaeologist asked him. “We haven’t mapped anything out yet, who knows what it’s like down there?” She nodded her head to a dark doorway leading further into the temple.

“Ah, but what is our profession without the allure of danger? Allons-y!” Leaving the others to their detail oriented inspection, Rook bound down the adjoining hall into the depths of the temple.

Rook traveled down the halls, stopping only briefly to poke his head in adjoining rooms, none of which held what he was looking for. He paused every so often, checking a trap or pitfall that had been left how many hundreds of years ago. Finally, he came to a split in the corridors.

“Hmm,” He muttered to himself. “I believe it was… Second star to the right.” He chose the right passage.

The passage led him to a large stone door, once more inlaid with gem studded pictographs. “Ah,” he said. “A clever lock. Let’s see if I’m more clever.” He looked closely at the depictions. A group of four children flying over a cityscape, a towering clock with a large round face, a sun and moon arranged on either side, and, of course, the signature stars. He noticed several of the gem motifs could be moved. He suspected the right one would unlock the door, while the others might lead to disaster. And, as thrilled as he was to see what kind of disaster it could be, he was on a mission. “Second star to the right,” He said to himself again. “And straight on till morning!” He adjusted the hour hand on the clock face, changing it from pointing at the moon to the sun. A mechanism groaned and the door slowly fell open.

He swished his flashlights around the chamber. It was littered with jars upon jars on a sparkling yellow dust. He tapped the glass on one of the jars, feeling lighter, his hair floating around him. And, while this was a fascinating discovery, and he would definitely have to report back to the Roi de Dragons that their study of ancient fairy lore had been a success, there was something more valuable than pixie dust he was after. There, in the center of the room, was exactly what he was looking for. An acorn and thimble dangling off a delicate chain - the ancient symbols of a pure kiss.

As Rook turned to confront the mechanical crocodile that had emerged from its hiding place, a clock ticking in its chest, he tucked the treasure into his pocket. He shrugged his bow from his shoulder, knocking an arrow, thinking about how beautiful the necklace would look on (Y/N) when he proposed to her.

Epel

Epel undid his tie for the third time. Nothing was looking right. Should he keep his hair up like this, in a high ponytail that cascaded down his back? Was his suit not fitting right, stretching over muscles he had worked so hard for so long for?

That was one thing directors loved about him, how he could flip from appearing sweet and docile to ablaze with righteous fury in a second. It helped boost his popularity at the box office, his latest action movie breaking records. But that limelight also came with its drawbacks. Like how today, possibly one of the most important days of his entire life, Epel had been distracted with checking with security at every odd occurrence. They had already kicked out a couple of unscrupulous paparazzi the other day. Epel was glad he was back in Harveston for something so monumental, surrounded by his family, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the strain he was putting them all through. But they would always wave him off with smiles, saying that it was the least they could do for all the publicity he had brought to their farms. And besides, what was family for, if not to lend a hand on your wedding day?

There was a knock and the door opened before Epel could reply. Vil stepped in, checking a clipboard with a meticulously maintained schedule. “The cake finally got here, thank the Seven,” he said. “Everyone’s taking their seat. I knew people would be late - that’s why you put the ceremony time on the invitation a half hour before you actually want it to start. Now we just need to-” He stopped, looking up, and glared at the cloth around Epel’s neck like he had glared at Epel himself so many times during their NRC days. Vil sighed, setting the clipboard down and pulling at Epel’s tie. “Honestly, have none of my lessons stuck with you?”

Epel felt a momentary sense of pride against the scolding as Vil had to look up to speak with him. “Nothing looked right,” He said. “I wanted it to, you know, look right.”

Vil hummed. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?” Epel didn’t reply. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you? I’ve never known you to be one who runs away from problems.”

“No, never!”

Vil gave a final tug on the eldredge knot. “Well, that’s the only thing that matters, isn’t it?” He gave one of his rare sincere smiles. “And she chose you, Epel. Remember that.”

Epel shrugged. “It’s a lot to live up to.”

“And you’ll rush to meet those expectations with flying colors. Now hurry up, we have a schedule to keep.”

They had set the ceremony space in the middle of the apple orchard. Soft pink apple blossom petals swirled around the air, beautiful organic confetti cascading over each guest as they took their seat in the circular audience. Epel looked around, smiling back at friends and family beaming at him. His mother hadn’t stopped crying happy tears since before breakfast that morning. His grandmother reached out and squeezed his hand as he walked past.

A group of local boys had been recruited to play music for the wedding. As Epel took his spot under the flowery arch up front, they began playing. Epel felt his heart thundering in his chest, jumping like a jackrabbit. He felt more nervous now than he did at his first premier.

Everyone stood, looking towards the back of the aisle as the bride started to walk down, billowing white dress, cascading flower bouquet, lace veil covering her face. It felt like forever, Epel transfixed. She stepped up to the alter and Epel gently lifted the veil away from her face. (Y/N) smiled up at him.

“Dearly beloved,” The officiant started. Before he could get another word in, Epel surged forward, kissing his bride. (Y/N) started laughing, wrapping her arms around him to return the kiss.

“Hey!” Vil called jovially from the crowd. “You’re ahead of schedule!”

Idia

Idia was curled up on the couch, the room dark, light from the three computer screens in front of him illuminating the space and searing his eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip, writing code only to immediately delete it.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Blinking away dark spots in his vision, he glanced over at the left computer screen where he had taped a photo of Ortho and their parents. Ortho was wearing a director’s coat, showing off for the camera. Idia smiled, straightening the photo. At the time, when Ortho had volunteered for the position of S.T.Y.X. junior director in Idia’s place, Idia didn’t expect the rush of relief that swept through him. It had been about a year so far and the two brothers talked almost every night, Ortho regaling him with stories of new advancements and studies they had made, his enthusiasm peaked in every word.

But what Idia hadn’t expected was the sudden sense of helplessness, like he’d been cut free of some invisible tether. He’d just hang around for a while, working in this tech company, that cyber security industry, before he got bored. He was able to improve every company by leaps and bounds before deciding to drop it and head somewhere else whenever the mood took him. A few military weapons companies had tried to recruit him, but he’d swiftly rejected their offers.

Eventually, a small group of eager indie video game developers had reached out in an email he had almost deleted without reading. He knew a few of the names from discussion boards on Star Rogue fan sites. They asked if he had wanted to join them for a new project and, having nothing else pressingly important going on, he’d agreed. Soon, however, he’d found himself absolutely engrossed with the game, bringing in more money and resources than any of the other teams members had ever seen for a similar project.

And now, here he was. Stuck. The team couldn’t figure out their next steps, couldn’t solve problems with the set up and coding. They had hit a wall. Idia had hit a wall.

He heard movement from the bed behind him, a sigh of someone waking up. “Idia?” A sleep addled voice called. He didn’t move, fingers clacking on the keyboard. He heard movement behind him, getting out of bed and dragging the blankets with them.

(Y/N) tumbled onto the couch next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You said you were going to come to bed like,” She squinted at the clock. “Four hours ago. Idia! You need sleep!”

“Want to get this done,” He mumbled back.

“It’ll still be there in the morning.”

“I have to work on it now or I’ll lose momentum.”

“You’ll lose your eyes if you keep working in the dark like this. And I like your eyes. And your hair. And your smile. And your-”

“This code is a total mess. It’s full of redundancies. There’s an explote here that would basically make you able to walk through any wall no problem. And they’re focused too much on feature creep, it’s like they want to add a cool new gimmick every day. Like, yeah, connecting to the microphone during the stealth section so if the player is loud the enemies can find them easier is cool, but it’s only in that one part of the game and it’s making a whole bunch of unnecessary complications. Or there’s this part with the poisoning spell basically breaks the game if you unlock it too early. Or this part with the character modeling where-”

“Idia!” Idia startled, blinking at (Y/N). “Your girlfriend is asking you to come to bed with her.”

Idia’s hair immediately burned bright pink. “Oh, yeah, okay.”

Silver

Silver rolled his shoulders, adjusting the weight of his heavy armor. He was in a tent, getting ready for his bout of jousting for an annual tournament in the Briar Valley. This wasn’t the first tournament he’d participated in, of course, but there was always a nervousness that built up in his stomach, an eagerness to prove himself as worthy of being Malleus’s retainer, Lillia’s son, a loyal knight of the fae kingdom.

“Knock, knock.” He turned to the front flaps of the tent. (Y/N) pulled aside one of the flaps, sticking her head inside. “Sorry, there’s not really a place to actually knock or ring a bell or anything…” She cleared her throat, stepping inside. She wore a traditional Briar Valley dress. “Wow,” She breathed, taking in Silver in his armor. “You look like a real knight! Not that you aren’t, usually, I mean. It’s just really formal now I guess. I’ve been able to see everything from up in the royal viewing box with Hornton and Lillia. It’s great watching you and Sebek, competing and everything. It’s like a whole Renaissance fair out there.”

Silver set down his helmet. “Is that something from your world?”

She nodded. “I’ll have to tell you about it some time. They were always fun.” She looked away nervously, trying to find the right words to say. “There was this kind of tradition, at the Renaissance fairs, for knights. I think it went back to medieval history in my world. I was hoping you could help me with it.”

“Of course,” Silver said. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them, gently reaching out to take her elbow and turn her back to him. They were so close their bodies nearly brushed each other. “Whatever you need.”

She hesitated for another second before reaching up and pulling a ribbon out of her hair. He noticed it was (favorite color) instead of a matching shade to her outfit. “When knights would go for tournaments, they would wear a token or flag from their partner. It’s for good luck or something.” She twisted the ribbon around her fingers, not meeting his eyes. “I was hoping…”

Silver untangled the ribbon from her hands, tying it around his forearm. He felt a swell of pride at how it stood out from his armor, gently waving in the breeze. “I’d be honored,” He said. “To wear your token.”

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up, a smile blossoming on her face. “Okay, yeah, sure, of course! I’m glad you like it.” She pressed her lips together, considering something, before adding. “Would it be okay if I gave you another token? For good luck. Not that you need it or anything, you’re going to be great.”

Silver smiled at her nervous deflection. “I’d love anything from you.”

(Y/N) looked around nervously again, fiddling with her fingers. Just as Silver was about to speak, she reached up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him down for a kiss.

Lilia

Lilia leaned against the railing of the barge, watching the glowing red lanterns float gently above the river, their reflections casting ruby ghosts against the dark water below. The Floating Lantern Festival in the Land of Red Dragons never failed to excite, but this year was especially memorable.

“It’s even more beautiful that you describe it,” (Y/N) breathed in awe next to him, stretching out over the barge railing to take in every sight and sound around them. Her eyes trailed the parade along the banks of the river, party goers dressed in red hanfu carrying more lanterns and a long red paper dragon on tall sticks.

“The best stories are the ones you experience in person,” He said.

They’d been traveling together for a while now, by boat, by train, on foot, exploring the whole world. (Y/N) had always been bothered that she had no frame of reference for the world of Twisted Wonderland, no practical understanding of its cultures and countries. Lilia tried to alleviate some of her frustrations with stories about his numerous travels before finally deciding a more hands-on presentation would be a better fit.

Lilia snuck up behind her as she marveled at the lanterns drifting into the night sky. He suddenly grabbed her shoulders, as if to push her off. She gasped and turned to give him a halfhearted glare as he laughed.

“Well?” Lilia asked. “Do you feel more prepared to conquer the world now?”

(Y/N) frowned. The Land of Red Dragons was meant to be the last stop on their tour. (Y/N) had said she had no real plan for after the journey. While the multitude of friends she had made during her years in school were more than happy to lend her a place to stay during their travels, (Y/N) had confided in Lilia that she felt like she was taking advantage of their good nature if she lingered to long, without finding work or direction in this strange world. Maybe she would return to NRC to see if Crowley had any work for her? (He always did.)

“I mean, I suppose?” She said. “Everything has been so wonderful. It’s almost a shame to be stuck in one place after all this.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “I can see why you like moving around so much.”

Lilia hummed, leaning back against the railing. He turned, considering (Y/N)’s profile, lit against the red glow of the lanterns. He felt himself pause, lost in the marvel of her eyes, full of delight and wonder at everything around them. There was a strange stirring in his chest, one he had experienced multiple times over their journey together, a feeling he hadn’t had in almost 500 years.

Lilia shook his head, trying to reign his focus back in. “You know,” He said, casually. “I’ll be heading back out again soon. Malleus came up with the idea of sending out ambassadors from the Briar Valley, trying to strengthen relationships between fairies and the rest of the world.”

(Y/N) nodded. “That seems like something he would do. You’re going to be the first one, then? It seems like a good job for you.”

“Not necessarily the first.” (Y/N) turned to look at him and Lilia felt himself squirm under her direct gaze. Goodness, he would have thought he was a lovestruck teen of 200 years by the way he was acting. “I proposed that you should join me as an ambassador. I thought it might make things easier, having a fellow human to represent dual interests. And, I must admit,” He purposely looked away. “I’ve grown fond of our time together.”

When (Y/N) didn’t reply he looked back at her. She was smiling up at him and he felt his heart stutter. “I’d like that a lot,” She finally said. Which part she didn’t specify. He didn’t need her to.

As they watched the lantern festival continue around them, their hands slid together on the railing, fingers entwining.

Sebek

Sebek’s heart was beating a mile a minute. He knelt in front of Malleus, in the grand throne room, crowds of nobles eagerly watching his knighting ceremony.

Malleus, regal sword in hand, stood over him. “Sebek Zigvolt,” He said, voice echoing around the chamber. “Do you so solemnly swear to uphold the code of knightly honor, to defend the Briar Valley with all your might, your will, and your faithfulness?” “I do,” Sebek replied, trying to keep his voice to a reasonable volume, not letting his giddiness shine through.

“Do you so solemnly swear to serve your king and country and never waver from your duty?”

“I do.”

“And do you so solemnly swear to be truthful to yourself, loyal to your loved ones, and show bravery in the face of doubt and fear?”

“I do!”

Malleus smiled down at his friend, pride for his retainer crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Then, as rightful king and ruler of the land of night fae and the Briar Valley, I hereby dub thee, Sebek Zigvolt, high knight and warrior to the crown.” Malleus lowered his sword against Sebek’s shoulders and the crown of his head. “Stand and receive your blessing.”

Sebek stood, fist thumbing against his chest. Cheers started up from the assembly. Happy tears pricked the corners of Sebek’s eyes, his smile wide as he tried to keep a serious face for the occasion.

After the ceremony, everyone congregated in one of the grand ballrooms of the palace. Sebek stood with his mother, father, and grandfather. His mother was flitting over him, brushing away an invisible speck of dust every other second.

“My darling boy!” She cried. “Look how big you’ve gotten! Oh, you’re so official now! Dear, what happened to our little Sebek?”

“You’ve done a lot of hard work, Sebek,” He father said, nodding proudly. “You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

“Of course he’s proud,” His grandfather scoffed. “He’s a Zigvolt! Greatness and duty is embedded in our history!”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, Papa, so you’ve said many times.” Her eyes cut behind Sebek, smiling and taking hold of either of the two men’s arms. “Well, we wouldn’t want to monopolize your time, Sebek. There are many people who want to congratulate you, after all. Come along, dear, Papa!” Ignoring their protests, his mother dragged them away.

As Sebek waved in a confused good-bye, he felt a thump on his back. “Look at you!” He heard a familiar voice say. “So do I have to call you Sir Zigvolt now or something?” Sebek turned to see (Y/N) beaming up at him. It was surprising enough to see her here, but Sebek’s breath caught in his throat as he saw her dress. Zigvolt colors. She was wearing Zigvolt house colors.

“H-hum- Er, (Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

“Horton invited me! Or, I guess I should say King Malleus here, shouldn’t I? Well, either way, he told me you were having your official knighting ceremony. And I got a letter from your mom, too! She thought it would be a fun surprise to have your friends from school show up to support you.” She indicated one of the banquet tables across the room. Sebek saw Grim, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Ortho, and Epel milling around, all dressed in their own formal wear, catching questioning glances from the various fae knights and nobles.

But they weren’t wearing his house colors. So why was she? And why did it make his heart thrum like that?

A band started up, couples taking their places along the dance floor. “Ah, would you…?” Sebek felt like he could’t find the right words. He couldn’t understand why he was suddenly falling all over himself like this.

(Y/N) clasped his hands in hers. “I’d love to dance! I might not know all the steps, since this seems pretty fancy and formal, but you’ll just have to show me, okay?” Sebek nodded stiffly as she pulled him to the dance floor.

Sebek took one of her hands in his, his other settling on her waist. He felt it burn with the contact. As he swept her along the floor, he finally said, “Your dress…” But couldn’t manage to finish, his thoughts tumbling around. Had it really been so long since graduation? Since he had last seen her? Sure, they had written multiple times, he kept up correspondence with many NRC alumni, but how had she changed this much since then? Had her eyes always shined that way? Was her hair that beautiful? Was her smile that dazzling?

“Oh, your mom lent it to me,” She said. “I didn’t have anything that would fit, so she lent me one of her old ones. Although with all the adjustments I think it might just be mine now. Do you like it?”

“You look like a Zigvolt,” He said.

“Oh.” She seemed surprised at that, heat rising to her face. They turned around the floor a few more times. “You know, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me soon.”

Sebek felt his heart flip. “I’ll have to put up with you more, you mean.”

(Y/N) stifled a laugh and gently hit his chest. “Rude. I mean Horton offered me a position here. Ambassador for human and fairy relations. I’m not totally sure what it will be like next, but he’s given me a townhouse just next door. It’s near your parents, I think. So, you know, I’ll be around. If you ever want to see me or anything. Or I guess if I want to see you, I’ll know where to come to bug you.” She laughed awkwardly.

Sebek unconsciously tightened his grip on her hand. “I think I wouldn’t mind that. It’s a knight’s duty to look after those he cares about, after all.”

Malleus

Malleus turned over in his bed, hands crumpling the sheets next to him. He was in his chambers back in the palace in the Briar Valley. The bed next to him was cold. Cool dawn light was just beginning to spill through his window behind the heavy velvet curtains.

The dreaming Malleus, the one all too aware this was a premonition of a possible future, sighed. He had completed this potion many times, both at NRC and in his private education in the Briar Valley. And, no matter how many times he drunk the noctious concoction, his future always remained the same. A lonely bedchamber, government work, fawning lords and ladies vying for his favor. If he was lucky, he would get to interact with Lilia, Silver, or Sebek. Although he dreaded the times when he could clearly see age lining their faces while he remained the same.

The door to his chamber creaked ever so slightly. Someone was entering. The dream Malleus, the one projected in this future vision, tensed in his bed. The dreaming Malleus, forced to watch everything unfurl, was confused. Was this some sort of half-baked assassination attempt? Had relations between the country of fae and the rest of the world degraded to such an extent under his reign? Was he destanted to watch his own death?

The dream Malleus closed his eyes. There was a sound of soft padding feet, a giggle, then a sharp hush. The intruders were right next to him now.

“Ready?” A voice whispered, familiar but changed with time. “One, two, three…”

“Happy birthday, Papa!”

The dream Malleus opened his eyes, a slow and easy smile crossing his face. The curtains were thrown open, revealing the three young boys standing at his bedside, rosy cheeked, green eyed, and horns curling up from their ebony locks. One of them held a plate stacked high with pancakes, dripping with strawberry syrup. Another held a party popper, which he pulled releasing a torrent of confetti and ribbons. The third held a paper card tightly in his hands, his grip causing it to crumple at the edges.

“Did we wake you up, Papa?” The boy with the card asked in a concerned voice, pouting.

Malleus smiled, sitting up in bed as the young boys climbed up to sit around him. “Not at all, Grimwald. What’s that you have there?”

Grimwald shyly held the card out. Malleus gently pried it from his fingers. It was obviously homemade, colored pencil drawings of a family of five holding hands across the cover, four with Darconia horns crowning their heads. He opened the card. There was a large birthday cake drawing inside, with the words ‘Happy Birthday!’ in large blocky lettering above it. Around the cake, the artists had scribbled their names: Grimwald, Lilianos, and Malachite.

“They wanted to surprise you,” A soft voice said. Malleus, both in and out of the dream, felt his heart skip a beat as (Y/N) came around the bed. She sat down at the edge, catching the plate of pancakes from Malachite so they wouldn’t splatter on the floor. She turned to him, carding her fingers through his hair, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Good morning, Horton. Happy birthday.”

“We made them ourselves!” Malachite proudly proclaimed. “Grandpa Lilia showed me how!”

“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) whispered to him. “I supervised.”

“Do you have to work today, Papa?” Lilianos asked. “You can’t ‘cause it’s your birthday, right? You have to stay and play with us today.”

Malleus gathered his boys together so they all fit on the bed. “Birthdays are family days. I’d love nothing more than to spend the entire day hearing about how you’ve been terrorizing the palace.”

“Oh, oh!” Malachite called, hand shooting up. “I breathed fire and it burned up the curtains in the grand dining room!”

(Y/N) looked at him sideways. “On accident, right?”

Malachite blushed. “Yes, Mama.”

“Can we go watch the knights train?” Lilianos asked. “Uncle Sebek and Uncle Silver said they would teach us to ride a horse!”

“Why would you want to ride a horse when you can fly?” Malachite said, spreading his arms wide.

“I want to go to the menagerie,” Grimwald added. They began to talk over each other, making plans for their father’s birthday without his input.

Malleus smiled, watching his family. He turned back to (Y/N). She smiled at him, as glorious and warm as the sun after a year of frozen nights. He reached up, cupping her face, and brought her close.

“I always knew my future would bring me to you.”

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neerons · 4 months

Text

Some of Gilbert von Obsidian's best quotes

[Warning: Heavy spoilers about Gilbert's route]

"Ahaha, what is the prince of Obsidian, if not rotten?"

"I hate people."

"No matter how hard I try not to, I can't help but be gentle with her. What kind of villain am I?" (—Gilbert talking about Emma to himself)

"(...) I hope you don't accidentally end up calling me 'big bro' or anything." (—Gilbert to Leon)

"(...) You were just saying what you really think. I don't think doing that is rude. And it's true I'm someone scary."

"I like you because you're so warm, little rabbit."

"Ahaha! You're so sassy. But I like that about you."

"I want to make things awkward for you."

"You can't just focus on the best of someone while ignoring the worst of them."

"If you were a bother, I'd kill you, so don't worry." *smile intensifies*

"...I'm no match for that pure, innocent gaze of yours. You're the only one capable of pushing me around, you know."

"Depending on what you say next, I might just take your head clean off." (—Angry Gilbert to Emma)

"(...) You nearly died. ...Do you have any idea how much that chilled me to the core?"

"The only thing I can ever be for you is a villain. ...Unfortunately."

"...Thank you. I almost got murdered by some dust."

"If you keep on lying over and over about being fine, I might just... Well, you can guess, right?"

"I found it in a book in the little rabbit's room. They need to understand what happens to them if they try to interfere with what's mine... Don't they?" (—Gilbert talking about a poisoned needle targeting Emma to Roderic)

"You said it, remember? You said you wanted me to learn to love Rhodolite. To me, you are Rhodolite."

"Those born with status have the right to do whatever they like to those who are lesser than them. That's what you want to say, isn't it? (...) Hmm? What's that? You look a little distressed for some reason. But I suppose that's no surprise. You see, I have the right to tyrannize you however I please, just as you tyrannized those children who had no one to protect them. I'm imperial royalty, and you're just a third-rate aristocrat. So I'm going to have to teach you just how different our social positions are... Aren't I? (...) Aren't you lucky that we're in Rhodolite? You've narrowly escaped death. If this was Obsidian, you'd be dead for sure. After all, we have no need for disgusting nobles who defile the purity of children." (—Gilbert to a Baron of Rhodolite)

"Wait, so you're telling me you baked cookies for another man, even though I'm right here. Ouch, that hurts."

"(...) if by chance I run into your dear papa, he'll kill me." (—Gilbert talking about Akatsuki)

"Welcome to Obsidian. (...) I introduced myself as Gilbert von Obsidian, didn't I? There's only one person in this country allowed to use the Obsidian name. And that's the emperor."

"There's nothing about you or me that makes one of us intrinsically inferior or superior to the other. Humans are all basically the same. And naturally, from a societal perspective, we probably need people who can take the lead. People who are capable, and talented, who can bring others together, and build a better tomorrow. That's a healthy way to be. I'm the ruler of a country that knows deception and decay all too well, so I understand better than most. That's why my ideal, my ambition, is to conquer all the royalty that have infested this whole continent, and free the people who are under their control."

"I wrote that story based on you. (...) Akatsuki told me a lot of stories about you, and they were always stories about you showing love and affection for others. He made it sound like you believed that the true nature of people is love, and that the happiness of others was what made you the happiest. The idea of living like that was repulsive to me, but at the same time, it made me curious. I got to wondering what sort of choices you'd make, if you were in the same position I was."

"You were bullying small children to amuse yourselves. That Rhodolitian might have stopped at just punching you, but I'm not that kind. Did I make military regulations or didn't I? And do those regulations say attacking non-combattants is forbidden, or don't they?" (—Gilbert to Obsidianite soldiers)

"Then how about you call me papa?" (—Gilbert to Luke)

"...Don't go. (...) I don't know... if I can hold on... until you get back. Being on my own... is lonely..."

"...You're the only one I'll ever love."

"I'm taking your daughter." *smile intensifies* (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)

"I'm not oppressing you with my power, it's just my love for you, overflowing."

"You can't do things like this with other men... Unless you want to see dead bodies."

"You're liked by everybody. A lot of the princes helped you out today. That's because people adore you, and they naturally want to help you out. They're all beasts with strong characters, but you're important to all of them. Do you know how rare that is? That means you're charming to everyone you meet. ...Including me, of course."

"There's no way I'd ever let anyone else kill you. It has to be me."

"I can't just bare my body for free."

"I've never liked seeing you clothe your body in things that other people have put their hands all over."

"Don't force yourself to talk. I'm not so narrow-minded that I'll go around saying you're disrespectful just because you didn't thank me. You're sick; you're supposed to just drink medicine and sleep."

"Wah, boohoo. I can't believe we were on different pages this whole time. I've given you my entire heart, and yet, look at what you've done with it! (...) Waaah, I'm so heartbroken that the only thing that could bury my sadness is world domination!"

"For his sake, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear him call me 'eyepatch bastard'. Rude." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Silvio)

"Her ability to right what was wrong, purify what was once sullied... It runs at complete odds with my nature. I may have truly met my match." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I blinked a few times as my vision seemed to expand all at once... and the little rabbit become clearer and even more beautiful." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I'm never letting you go. If you run away from me, I'll conquer the whole world and follow you to the ends of the earth if that's what it takes. No wait... I just need to control your heart, so that you'll never even want to leave me." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"We all approach life differently. Chevalier slices hearts in two. I trample on them. But, you... You respect them."

"I wanted to see you bawling your eyes out."

"You're... the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"I like the little rabbit very much, you see. So I certainly hope that bold declaration of yours doesn't end up turning into a lie." (—Gilbert to Silvio, in Silvio's route)

"I'm not interested in the average woman. There's someone that caught my eye when I was young." (—Gilbert talking to Silvio, Rio, Keith, Sariel and Emma)

"You like these stories, don't you? Ones where a lowly village girl falls in love with a big, bad emperor and makes him change his ways—"

"It's a good thing I was born with a pretty face. If I looked scary without even trying, it would almost be TOO perfect."

"Keith, if you get tired, we can swap places. (...) Shame, Daddy says we can't." (—Gilbert talking about carrying Emma instead of Keith, but is stopped by Sariel)

"I was able to find some... treasure too, so I'm very satisfied with today." (—Gilbert most probably talking about Emma to the other princes and Emma)

"What? You'd like some new heads to decorate the castle's gates?" (—Gilbert to Emma telling him she wants friends)

"After a while of being betrayed over and over again, you start thinking to yourself. That maybe the world would be a better place if everyone who wasn't your friend just dropped dead."

"I know her. But only in fantasy. Because there's no way an Obsidianite royalty can have anything to do with a mere bookstore worker. (...) Die without meeting her? Or die after meeting her. Well, that's easy. I prefer the latter in that case." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I tried to hold down my excitement as I knocked softly on the door. (...) The door opened softly, revealing a woman that was different from what I had imagined. Strange. I thought she'd be more childish looking based on his stories. Her eyes that looked directly at me were clear and devoid of any baseless optimism. She was clearly a woman, not a child. I smiled to carefully hide my surprise. (...) She's purer and prettier than I imagined." (—Gilbert's thoughts about meeting Emma for the very first time)

"Oh, I get it. You think I was with another woman, don't you? Ahaha, you get jealous so easily. But don't worry, I only see you.If it would make you feel better though, I could always kill each and every single woman that gets close to me."

"...And so we've decided to officially hold our wedding ceremony. Can we count on your blessing, papa?" (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)

"You're much more important to me than family, you know. (...) After all, you're still alive, aren't you? I wouldn't kill you no matter what you did."

"I really do love you. And it's because I love you that I want to look good in front of you, and hide the things that I don't want you to see." (—Gilbert talking about his health condition to Emma)

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to officially bind you to me?" (—Gilbert's thoughts)

"Oh, that hurts... I just wanted to shower my beloved fiancee with my love, but I guess you don't want to... I'm absolutely heartbroken now. I might just have to go out and conquer one of the neighboring countries just to soothe myself."

"You're my type of lady. Do you know why? (...) I, for one, enjoy the rebellious, sassy look you always have in your eyes. I feel this strong will— that you will never bow down to me. That even though you're terrified, you won't run away."

#gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince gilbert #ikemen prince #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird #otome game #cybird otome

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wonderlandwalker · 9 months

Text

After All These Years | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: You think he no longer cares, and he thinks you're better off without him. But the reaping for the 75th hunger games puts a dent in both of those thoughts

Content Warnings/Tags: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, insinuations of smut, kissing, once again not proofread

Requested by @rottingpeache: absolutely need to see enemies to lovers with finnick. “I really don’t like you.” “And I really don’t believe you.”

Word Count: 1k

A/N: No clue if this is actually enemies to lovers or just a poor attempt at it. I'm gonna go take a nap now but there is more coming cause the requests sparked something in me again so thank you to everyone who sent them!!

None of you had expected it to happen, how could you? But you've learned by now there is no point in fighting it either. So when you heard Mags’ name being called out and you volunteered in her stead, you suppose it was simply out of habit. In a world like this, the only thing that makes you feel like you are surviving is helping others do the same thing. As you stepped forward you could see the cameras zooming in on your face, trying to capture every expression you were making. You saw the cameras do the same for Finnick. Years of being in an unwelcome spotlight had made his poker face almost unbreakable, but the small furrow of his eyebrows and the twitch in his gallant smile told you everything you needed to know.

It wasn't until the next day that he first spoke to you. Over the years you would see each other, of course, you would talk. But at all the events and all the parties you did nothing more than exchange pleasantries. But now he came out of your peripheral vision and cornered you against the wall behind you with his broad arms.

“What were you thinking, this might be the stupidest thing you've ever done.” His demeanour seemed angry, he seemed serious. But you had no reason to match it, you just wanted to get under his skin like he got under yours.

“Be careful what you say, you might actually be the stupidest thing I’ve done.” you wondered if he remembered, if he remembered the night you had spent together so many years ago, it had been the best night of your life, and you had no idea if he even remembered. If he did, he didn't let it show.

“Did you even think it through? You survived the arena once, and only barely, what makes you think you’ll make it out alive again.” His voice was a low rasp, and if you didn't know better, you'd say he sounded upset. But you knew better, Finnick had shown you his true colours when he started avoiding you, and you did remember that.

“I wasn't thinking, how could I? All I could think about was Mags having to go through it all again, you more than anyone else know she deserves better.” you were looking him in the eyes now, and it took all of your willpower not to melt. “My games weren’t that long ago, I did it then and I’m still here, I can do it again.” He stepped closer to you, eliminating the remaining space between your bodies, his chest against yours, and you could feel his heart skip a beat as he spoke.

“Exactly, I was there, and it damn near broke me too. I was there to piece you back together. But I won’t watch it happen to you again, I can’t let it happen. Because what if I’m not there this time, what if I'm not there to put you back together.” There was a stark contrast between his face and his voice. As you looked at him you saw his eyes soften, and it gave you a glimpse of the Finnick you once knew. But his voice was still filled with anger, and it snapped you back to reality.

“And how would you know what I can and cannot handle.” You were challenging him now, but he had you matched.

“Because I know you. Even if you don’t believe so, I know what youre like, I know how you think. You might believe I forgot, that I ignore you and go on with my life as if nothing happened. But if you were to actually think for one second you would see that I’m simply doing what's best for you, I just want what’s best for you but now you’ve gone and ruined all of it in one day.

You’re at a loss for words, because maybe he was right, maybe you had gone and messed up everything with a single sentence at the reaping. But maybe everything was finally making a turn for the better, because for the first time, he was telling you he cared. And you’re thankful to finally see his thoughts shine through, but you’re overwhelmed too. So you turn around, you turn away from him, wanting to escape the confrontation. Except he’s not letting you go, not this time

“I really don’t care what you think Finnick.” You weren’t sure if you believed your own words, but you needed to get away from him.

“And I really don’t believe you.” You tried shrugging him off again, and you were about to turn away from him when you felt him grab onto your arm and pull you into him. As you looked up you could feel his eyes fixed on yours.

And so you do the only thing you can think of, you do the thing you want most in this moment right here, you kiss him. You tell yourself that consequences be damned, because even if he will hate you for it, even if you’ll regret it later, at least you have this one moment to get yourself through it, at least you didn't let your fears of losing him completely win this time. You kiss him as if everything will be okay, because when you feel his lips start to move in sync with yours, it is.

For a moment you think everything will resolve itself and you and Finnick can live together in a small house near the beach. For a moment you forget how much you hate him for everything he put you through. Because in this moment, if life could be like this moment, you’d forgive him for all of it. And you don't know it yet, but he’s even more scared than you are.

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keerysfreckles · 9 months

Note

Luke x percy’s older sister angst/fluff comfort where her nightmares get really really bad and she hasn’t been able to sleep so she lashes out on everyone and distances herself and her and luke really fight but then he comforts her because reader spilled to annabeth and ofc it’s gonna spread hahahah

bummerland — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem poseidon!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, ANGST!!!

a/n: we get the tunnel of love episode tomorrow AND THE PERCABETH HUG SCENE IM TOTALLY NORMAL ABT THIS..

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n jolts awake. beads of sweat dripping off her forehead and cheeks. she's surpsied percy hasn't woken up because of her reaction to her nightmares. turning to her left, she sees percy fast asleep.

half-bloods always had nightmares. some campers had it worse than others. tonight y/n could've sworn she had the worst nightmare any half-blood could have.

the nightmares weren't new to the girl. they just started getting worse ever since she got claimed by her father, which was three weeks ago.

y/n wasn't usually the angered type. in percy's words, "she has her moments", but she never was angry at anyone for long periods of time.

since y/n the only older camper in the poseidon cabin, it automatically made her a camp counselor. which might explain why the campers were confused that she didn't show up during sword lessons today. her, luke and clarisse were supposed to teach them today. luke and clarisse managaed to help all the campers, but having y/n there would've made it a hundred times easier.

no one really questioned it, until y/n didn't show up at lunch or dinner that same day. annabeth asked percy about it at lunch, and he guessed she was taking a nap, which wasn't unusual for his sister.

however when luke asked percy for y/n's whereabouts, he didn't know how to answer the hermes boy. percy hasn't seen y/n all day, which only worried both of them.

the next day passed the same way as yesterday. not one camper saw y/n. this made percy more anxious, as well as annabeth. luke made it his mission to find the missing counselor.

luke checked cabin three, and wasn't surprised to only find two empty beds. he then checked the infirmary, the big house (minus the attic), the climbing wall, and near the lake. he ran his fingers through his hair, sighing once he realized y/n was still missing in the camp.

luke was about to go back to his cabin ans call it a night, until his heard a noise coming from inside the woods. it wasn't any sort of monstrous sound, which was the only reason luke followed the noise without a second thought.

he continued to trek through the woods as the noise became louder. he recognized the path was leading him towards the archery range. he can't believe he didn't check the archery range on his own.

once the trees cleared, he saw an empty range. until his eyes landed on y/n shooting arrows at the overused hay bales. luke caught up to her as she was walking to reclaim her arrows, ready to shoot again.

"y/n, we've all been worried about you. none of the campers said they didn't see you. neither did percy," luke grabs her elbow, stopping her movements.

y/n looks at luke as if he had three heads, all with smoke steaming out of their ears. "what are you doing out here?"

luke's surprised by her tone. it seemed rush and cold. he can't remember if he ever heard y/n talked like that.

"i was looking for you! i was so worried about you."

y/n shakes her arm out of luke's grasp and just continues to collect her arrows. "i'm fine luke, really."

luke scoffs, and follows her as she walks back to her bow at the other end of the range. "you wouldn't be avoiding the whole camp for two days, you think that's fine? that's the opposite of fine y/n!"

y/n doesn't respond. she preoccupied herself with loading her bow with a brown arrow provided by the camp.

"what, now you're going to ignore me?" luke's hands were on his hips, watching angrily as y/n continued to ignore his presence. she shot almost three more arrows before he spoke again.

"annabeth told me about you having nightmares," luke's voice was much more soft, but even more concerned.

"why didn't you tell me?" he sounded hurt.

y/n doesn't look towards luke, she starts fiddling with the bow and arrow in her hand. she shook her head, and luke didn't have to see her face to know her bottom lip was quivering.

"i didn't want to bother anyone. annabeth pushed it out of me, and i guess she told you," y/n responded.

luke grabbed the bow and arrow out of y/n's hand and set them on the ground, before he took both of the girl's shoulders in his hands.

"y/n you have to believe me when i tell you, you're not a bother to me. you're not a bother to anyone at camp, i swear."

y/n shrugs luke's hands off her body, and went back to shooting arrows down the range.

luke let out a sound of anger, mixed with stubbornness. "y/n, can you just come back to the camp so people can stop worrying about you, and we can talk about it?"

luke sighs again since he knew he wasn't getting an answer out of the girl.

"gods, y/n, will you stop and just talk with me?"

y/n could tell luke was getting more and more frustrated. she knew she couldn't ignore him forever. she throws the bow on the ground, and discards her arm protection. the girl was now fully facing luke.

"go ahead, talk."

luke starts to explain again how worried he was, and how worried the campers were that no one knew where she was. no one knew why she disappeared, until luke got the information from annabeth, about y/n's reoccurring nightmares.

"all half-bloods have nightmares y/n, you know we all relate to you about that. so why couldn't you just talk to someone about it instead of vanishing?"

y/n tried to respond. her mouth opened, but nothing came out. it's as if her voice box was completely removed. she looked all around, trying to avoid luke's eye contact. she tried to speak once more, but the same croak-y airy sound came out.

"come here," luke simply said, before pulling y/n's arm. he engulfed her in a hug, and she was quick to respond by wrapping her arms around luke's waist. he whispered comforting words in the air, as he held her head to his sternum. he believed she was the perfect height for hugs.

luke heard small cries coming from the girl in his arms, which soon turned to y/n choking on her own sobs. he was fast at calming her down. he did it plenty of times while she was in hermes' cabin, he practically knew her better than she did.

"are you okay?" luke asked once he heard her cries soften, now she was only sniffling. he felt her nod against his chest, and he started to rock their bodies back and forth gently.

"thank you luke," y/n's quiet, "for calming me down, and for finding me."

"like i said, we were all worried about you," luke responded.

y/n pulled away from the hug, "i guess i should go find percy and tell him i'm alive."

706 notes · View notes

gammasnippets · 7 months

Text

Drive T

SNSD Kim Taeyeon x Male Reader

12,260 words (Co-edited by @capslocked and @sparkynsfws)

Wimbledon—one of the most prestigious tennis tournaments in the world, known for its rich history and iconic traditions. It's the highlight of the tennis season, where the best players from around the globe compete for the coveted title on the hallowed grass courts of the All England Club. This is where names are made, and where legends are born. From casual fans to hardcore tennis enthusiasts, everyone is eager to witness the thrilling matches and the breathtaking displays of skill the players unleash on the courts. And with only a few months to prepare, you do your best to be in your best physical and mental condition for the coming tournament.

That is… If you're one of the qualifying players.

Something suddenly hits your head, snapping you out of your daydreaming. It was a tennis ball, rolling down your face. It's not even a hard hit, but it sure is enough to knock you back to reality. You then scan the tennis court looking for the culprit. Not far from you stands a woman, one hand on her racket and the other on her hip, and she doesn't look pleased.

"Hey! Quit your daydreaming, will you?" says the woman, sounding annoyed.

"That was uncalled for, you know?" you retort as you rub the point of impact, a spark of irritation in your voice.

"I just finished warming up here and the next thing I know, you're in your own world!" she snaps back, clearly unapologetic for her errant shot.

"Well, if only you didn't arrive late, we could've started our practice session on time," you reply, trying to maintain your composure.

The woman doesn't seem to like your response and walks towards you, her face slowly turning red.

"So it's my fault that you scheduled our practice session at such an inconvenient time?"

"What? You told me that you're only available today and that you really wanted to practice," you protest, feeling both confused and frustrated.

"At fucking midnight?" she exclaims, raising her voice.

"Well, it's only an hour after…"

"11 PM, 12 AM… Whatever! It's late in the evening, you dumbass!"

She kinda has a point. Despite the great discount you received for renting the tennis court at nighttime, you begin to realize that scheduling a session close to midnight wasn't the wisest decision.And she has every right to be angry about the inconvenience.

You take a step back, realizing that this argument is getting out of hand.

"Alright, alright… I'm sorry, Taeyeon-noona. I should've checked with you first."

To your relief, her anger softens slightly, and she sighs.

"Well, we're way past that now. Might as well make use of the time while we're here."

"Thanks for understanding…"

"Just don't you ever do this again," she says as she points her racket at you, her tone still sharp. "Or I'll make sure to hit you harder next time."

"Okay. I get it," you reply, feeling intimidated by her fiery demeanor.

You were always intimidated by Taeyeon's fiery demeanor. As your former teacher and tennis club advisor, she's known to be as strict and disciplined. You can't forget the torture she put you through, but that didn't sway you from leaving the sport you're passionate about. And for better, or more likely worse, you and Taeyeon are still in touch after all these years. Maybe you could've found a better partner, but you've never been more comfortable with anyone else other than her.

You and Taeyeon proceed to continue your practice session on the tennis court. Both of you are determined to make the most of the remaining time and improve your skills, ignoring the tension that still lingers in the air. The court fills with the sound of powerful swings, focused footwork, and the occasional grunt of exertion as you both push yourselves to the limit. Well-deserved breaks are taken to catch your breath, sip some water, and exchange a few friendly jokes amidst the intensity.

After a few rounds of intense practice, the two of you decide to take a much longer break.

"Fuck… I need a break," you pant, collapsing onto a nearby bench.

"Jeez. You're tired already?" Taeyeon teases you, as desperate for air as you are.

"You're the one to talk," you retorted, throwing the tease back at her.

"Well, you're the one who keeps on making me run all over the court!" she grumbles as she retires beside you, pouting her lips.

"You gotta do what you gotta do," you reply, smirking.

"Yet I still won," she boasts, a smug grin spreading across her face.

"I only let you win, you know?" you shrug nonchalantly.

Taeyeon laughs out loud at your cocky remark.

"As if! You always trip when you're returning my drop shots."

"Hey… It only happened once."

"More like twice!"

You raise your hands in mock surrender.

"Okay… It happened twice. Happy now?"

"You bet," she continues to laugh. "God, that was funny."

Taeyeon can't help but giggle at your mistakes during the game. As much as you find her laughter infectious, her teasing you might have hit a nerve. You want to retaliate by telling her how equally awful she was at returning her serves. But maybe she deserves this after the earlier exchange.

"So, wanna do a few more rounds?" you propose to Taeyeon, eager to win against her.

"Already? Can't we relax a bit more?" she asks, her body still slumped against the bench.

"Come on. We still have a lot of time left," you urge her, giving her a good nudge with your elbow.

"Exactly! Can't we use the time to rest longer?" she complains, faking an exhausted expression.

You sneer at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Noona, please. Don't be such a baby. You're too old for that," you tell her.

She then lets out a loud gasp. You obviously hit a nerve.

"Hey! I'm not old, you fuck!" she exclaims, raising her voice.

You chuckle. "Yeah, but you're definitely older than me."

"I'm only 34!" she yells, her cheeks turning slightly red.

"You can even pass as my aunt," you joke, unable to resist pushing her buttons even further.

In a hurry, she ejects herself from the bench, ready to argue back.

"Listen here, you little shit. You can joke all you want, but I can kick your ass right here, right now."

Seems like your teasing had the wrong effect on Taeyeon. As if a fuse inside her was lit, she's ready to fight you with words, fists, and probably anything else she can get her hands on.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," you apologize, trying to appease her.

But Taeyeon's not having it, and she's still fuming.

"That's not gonna cut it, you asshole," she continues to rant. "Y'know what? Let's make this interesting."

You don't know what's going through her head, but whatever it is, you don't like it.

"What? Interesting, how?"

"Since you think I'm such a weak old lady, even though I've beaten you many times…"

"We're almost even," you interject, but she's quick to cut you off.

"Shut up! You're not helping your case," she barks, glaring at you.

You shut your mouth and let her finish.

"Anyway, I bet I can beat you in a singles match," she declares, her tone serious.

The proposition sounds appealing to you, but it does feel like you're being manipulated.

"You can't be serious, right?"

"Do I look like I'm not?"

You scan her face carefully. Her expression doesn't waver and looks dead serious. You begin to regret messing with her earlier, and you're unsure what to say next.

"Well?" she asks again, expecting a clear answer.

You can't help but let out a deep sigh.

"Okay… What's on the line, then?"

"The loser has to follow the winner's every command."

You're a little taken aback by the wager, not because it's particularly absurd, but rather that you can't believe how quickly she's able to come up with this kind of proposition.

"That… That's quite a bold bet," you say, feeling a bit intimidated by the conditions.

"Are you backing out already? I thought you're a better player than that."

"No, I'm not! I'm just… Surprised," you stutter, unsure if you're able to take the challenge.

"Don't be such a chicken," she taunts you, a devilish smirk forming on her lips.

The teaser now becomes teased, and her expression is the one that you would never want to see. She's ready to fight you, and not just with her words. You can sense her desire for victory emanating out of her, and that scares the hell out of you.

Suddenly, immense pressure is crushing you down, and you begin to doubt yourself. Taeyeon's always been a formidable player, even with her age and size. If it weren't for her teaching you, you wouldn't have learned all the tricks that you've used to win many matches. You start to regret your decision to play with her, and you have no choice but to swallow the lump in your throat.

"Alright… You've got a deal," you agree, taking the challenge.

She gives a smug grin.

"That's what I wanted to hear," she chuckles. "Well, we've got plenty of time. Shall we have a nice game?"

"I guess so…"

The two of you prepare for the match, putting your rackets and other equipment away. As you're preparing, a thought pops into your mind, and you have a burning question to ask Taeyeon.

"You do realize that a singles match is longer than doubles, right?"

"Well, we can adjust the rules. This isn't an official match, after all."

"Alright. So how do you want to do this? Best out of three sets?"

"Sounds fair enough."

With the agreement, you and Taeyeon prepare to take the court once again. Both of you are determined to win and get the advantage over the other.

You set off the game with your first serve, hitting a fastball to the far corner of the service box. Taeyeon returns with a strong swing, hitting a high-speed shot that you're unable to defend. She takes the first point.

"Shit," you curse under your breath, as the scoreboard shows 15-0.

You try not to lose your focus as you return to the baseline and prepare for the next serve.

You decide to be more careful, not wanting to repeat the same mistake. Your next serve is a lot slower and hits the back of the service box. Taeyeon's return is weaker, allowing you to defend easily. With the advantage, you go on the offense and score a point.

"Yes!" you celebrate, pumping your fist.

"Hey. Not bad," Taeyeon concedes, not wanting to praise you.

"You can't expect me to let you have the advantage all the time," you brag, not letting her dampen your spirit.

"Try me."

Those two words somehow have a strange effect on you, and your confidence quickly wavers.

You try to be a little bit more aggressive on your next serve, and she's forced to make a mistake, throwing the ball off bounds. The score is now tied at 15-30.

The two of you continue your game, fighting tooth and nail to get the advantage. You give your best and so does her. Neither of you are willing to let the other gain any sort of upper hand.

The score eventually reads 40-30, with Taeyeon holding the lead. A single point would end the set and give her a huge advantage.

The volleys between you and Taeyeon are fast and aggressive, but with a strong swing, she manages to catch you off guard, scoring the winning point. She wins the first set.

She cheers at her victory, a wide grin spread across her face.

"Not bad. Didn't think I'd get the first point, huh?"

"Yeah, but the first set doesn't matter," you retort, not wanting to get discouraged.

"Is that so, hotshot? You can try."

You grit your teeth, and you're not sure whether Taeyeon's taunt was meant to annoy you, but her words had its desired effect. You're now ready to prove her wrong and win the second set.

She starts off the second set, preparing for her next serve.

"Let's see if you can return this one," she challenges you with a sly smile on her face.

"Bring it," you reply, your focus unwavering.

Taeyeon lets out a fast serve, aiming for the corner of the service box. Luckily for you, you manage to read her serve and position yourself perfectly to return it with a strong forehand. A few quick exchanges later, you score with a cross-court shot to start the second set with a point in your favor.

It's now your turn to serve. You perform a tricky flat serve, hoping to catch Taeyeon off guard. She anticipates your serve, returning it with a well-placed backhand slice that lands just over the net. In your hesitation to reach the ball, you mistakenly returned it too high and Taeyeon seizes the opportunity, smashing with a powerful overhead shot. The score is now tied at 15-15 in the second set.

You didn't let this setback discourage you. Instead, you double down on your serve, determined to not repeat the same mistake. Taeyeon is also focused and prepared to return your next serve.

With a swift motion, you throw another fast serve, and Taeyeon returns it with a powerful forehand, forcing you to make a mistake. But you managed to return the ball at an awkward angle, giving her a difficult ball to return. You seize the opportunity and score the next point.

The tension between you and Taeyeon is at an all-time high as the second set moves closer to its conclusion. Each point is fought fiercely, and there are a lot of close calls. Neither of you is willing to concede even a single point.

With both of you on the verge of exhaustion, the match is now coming down to the wire.

The score is now 15-40. You need a single point to win the second set.

You have the opportunity to serve. Taeyeon prepares herself, ready to receive your next serve.

"Here goes," you mutter, trying to psych yourself up. With a powerful serve, you launch the ball over the net. You watch anxiously as the ball flies toward the opposite side of the court. She reacts quickly, running towards the ball and returning with a strong forehand. You are forced to return the ball with a lob.

In the air, the ball curves towards the left, landing just outside the lines. You can only hope that Taeyeon isn't able to return it. But with her usual finesse, she returns the ball with a backhand lob, landing just in front of you. It's your turn to seal the deal with a powerful backhand of your own that hits the corner of the court, earning you the final point of the second set.

You try to keep your composure despite the win, but deep down you're ecstatic.

"Nice job," she compliments you.

You only give her a nod in return.

"So, shall we start the last set?"

"Yeah. Let's."

The chill of the midnight air dissipates as the final set begins. With both of you equally fired up and determined to win, you prepare for the final round.

This is it. The last set of the match. There's no time to lose.

You take the serve, performing a tricky jump serve that she struggles to defend. With a powerful swing, you hit a fastball that she's unable to return. You take the first point.

Taeyeon's serving next. With a fast serve, she catches you off guard and you're unable to defend her serve. The score is now 15-15 in the final set.

The pressure is mounting on you as the set progresses. You want to win. You both do. But there's something in her that drains you of your will. You're not sure if she's just playing a good mind game, or if she really has the upper hand.

The turn to serve goes back to you. You're determined not to let Taeyeon get a free pass. With a slow flat serve, you try to catch her off guard. She returns it with a well-timed forehand. You quickly move towards the ball and return it with a sharp topspin that lands just inside the line. She's unable to return the ball and you score a point.

The score is now 30-15 in your favor. The momentum is shifting in your direction. But it feels as though it isn't.

Taeyeon's serving next, and she looks determined to break the momentum. She hits a fast serve, hoping to catch you off guard. You return it with a powerful forehand. But her next shot is even faster, hitting a topspin that forces you to return it with a weak lob.

At that point, she brandishes her trademark move.

She rushes towards the ball, winding up for a smash. You prepare yourself to counter her attack… Only for Taeyeon to swing her racket sideways as it falls down, hitting the ball with a strong topspin. In a rush, you chase after the ball, but it bounces erratically, almost at a 90-degree angle. Before you can do anything, the ball lands outside the line.

“Drive T” is what she calls it. Not only does she swings her arms in a T shape, but the topspin she generates causes the ball to draw a cross, or rather a small letter T, as it bounces uncontrollably on the court. It’s a move that is very hard to predict, both to the players and spectators alike. You’ve seen her used that technique on many occasions, both to intimidate her opponents and to finish the game quickly. It is her dangerous weapon.

And she just used it against you.

Your jaw hangs open in shock. You can't believe she did that.

"Now that's a topspin!" Taeyeon boasts, laughing.

As much as you want to respond to her, you're not sure if you can. As "friendly" as this game is, you can't help but feel a creeping sense of dread at how serious this is turning out.

The score is now tied 30-30. The tension is getting even higher, and your mind is racing. You want to win. You need to win.

You take a deep breath as you prepare for your next serve. As calm as you can be, you send the ball towards her with a powerful serve that sails all the way to the other end of the net. But with her quick reflexes, Taeyeon effortlessly returns the serve with a perfectly executed backhand. You send it back with a swift backhand of your own, making her chase the ball towards the sideline. She manages to get to the ball just in time, and with a flick of her wrist, she sends a sharp topspin towards your corner.

Your heart races as you anticipate the spin and speed of the approaching ball, adjusting your movement to counter her shot with a controlled forehand. However, as you send the ball back, she has positioned herself near the net, swinging it downwards with incredible power and speed. You already put all your strength in returning the previous shot that you have no more time left to react accordingly, making the ball slip past you and land out of your reach.

Taeyeon grunts with satisfaction as her shot gives her a crucial point, bringing the score to 40-30 in her favor.

You curse under your breath, realizing that you may have bit off more than you can chew. But you have no option to back down now. All that's left is to turn the tables and win.

You take another deep breath as you wait for her to make her next move.

Your eyes remain locked on Taeyeon as she prepares to serve, her intense focus indicating that she's not going to make this easy for you. What happens next is like a blur as the ball immediately zooms towards you the moment she tosses it into the air, not even letting it wait for gravity to pull it down. With her on match point, she has all the reasons to end this game as quickly as possible.

You quickly run to intercept the ball, swatting it with a powerful forehand. She stays on her toes, moving swiftly to return your shot with a skillful backhand slice that barely clears the net. The distance is quite the challenge, but it's something you can still manage. You make a sprint towards the net, just in time to hit it back with a drop shot that catches Taeyeon off guard. With her nimble feet, she manages to reach the ball, though she has to dive in for the last few inches just to keep the rally going. And with a desperate lob, she sends the ball soaring high into the air, giving you enough time to deliver a crushing overhead smash that lands just inside the baseline, completely out of Taeyeon's reach.

As the ball connects with the court, a sense of triumph washes over you, pumping your fist in the air. You managed to buy yourself some room to breathe in this fiery match and gain a much-needed point, leveling the score at 40-40. Taeyeon recovers herself from her dive, letting out a sigh as she recovers her breathing. You're exhausted yourself, struggling to catch your breath after the intense rally. But there's no time to rest. You lock eyes with her, both of your eyes burning with determination to win over the other. The next serve could very well be the turning point of the entire match.

Once again, it's your turn to serve. Everything is suddenly hazy as if the world around you blurs into a complete mess of colors. All that's clear in your eyes are the ball in your hands, the lines on the court, and the woman in front of you. It could be the adrenaline. It could be the fear of losing. It could be anything. But none of that matters. Send the ball her way, swing it back if she dares to return it, repeat.

The next few rounds are nothing but intense back-and-forth as you and Taeyeon fight for every point. The ball flies across the court in a flurry of precise shots and strategic placement. You're tired as hell, and maybe, so is she. But neither of you can afford to let up even for a moment, not even an inch, as the score remains neck and neck.

After a few deuces and grueling rallies, the tension on the court reaches its peak. She has managed to bring the score to what could potentially be the final point of the entire match. You're both sweating profusely, your bodies glistening under the harsh stadium lights. The cold air that should be a reprieve feels suffocating against your heated skin. She could be on her last legs, but you're kind of on the same page.

You prepare yourself as Taeyeon prepares her to serve, her eyes locked on yours like a hawk, unwavering and intense. Her serve is swift, darting through the air with deadly accuracy. You react quickly, heading forward to meet the ball with a powerful forehand return. She then easily steps into position, returning the ball with a soft backhand shot. You match her shot with a well-executed slice, aiming to throw her off balance. But she still manages to reach the ball with a quick flick of her wrist, sending it sailing over the net with surprising speed and precision.

As the ball hurtles towards you, you summon every ounce of your pent-up aggression to smack the ball back with an explosive topspin shot, making the ball draw a sharp curve towards the sideline. This is all you have left. You can feel your strength draining as you shout your heart out with that final, desperate shot.

Unfortunately… Your tough opponent, Taeyeon, is right there, ready and waiting.

In a matter of seconds, the distance between her and the ball closes as she lunges forward, her body contorting with the grace and agility of a seasoned athlete. And as she swings her racket in a cross through the air, you know that she isn't just going to return the ball - she's sealing the deal with her Drive T. She hits the ball with such power that it spins wildly as soon as it's airborne. You watch it making its landing not far from you and with your heart pounding, you scramble to retrieve it. But with the ball's unpredictable spin, it bounces away from you instead of it landing in your control.

And as the ball bounces down to a stop, Taeyeon wins the match, winning 2 sets to 1.

"Yay! I won!"

She screams in joy and hops up and down with excitement as if all her exhaustion has instantly evaporated. Meanwhile, you collapse to the ground, completely outplayed and spent. As she celebrates her victory, she notices that you've been anchored to the ground. She makes her way towards you, skipping lightly in joy.

Trying not to feel bitter about your defeat, you raise your hand, giving her a thumbs up and a genuine smile. She responds in kind, before extending her hand to help you up.

"Well, looks like you took the match. That was nice," you say as you sit up, catching your breath as you try to compose yourself after the intense match.

"Thanks. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need a moment to recover. My legs feel like they're burning, though."

"Oh. Same here… But I'm good."

"Damn. How do you even do that?"

"I told you many times to work on your legs! I always tell you to do more than just jog," she scolds you as if losing to her wasn't enough.

"Alright, alright," you reply, rolling your eyes. "I'll start next week."

"Well you better be," she chuckles, tapping her racket lightly against your shoulder.

You chuckle amidst the exhaustion, the frustration you felt at losing to Taeyeon fading away.

"So, is that your dare for me?" you ask her.

"Hmmm?"

"You won, right?"

"Oh! Right! The bet!" Taeyeon's eyes then widened in realization.

You shake your head lightly, amused by her sudden forgetfulness.

"And you still deny that you're old—ow!"

She smacks you again with her racket, albeit harder this time.

"What did I just say about calling me old?"

"Okay, okay! Jeez, what a killjoy," you mutter, rubbing your shoulder.

"What was that?" she taunts, preparing to hit you again.

"Nothing! I said nothing," you quickly respond, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Good!" she exclaims, giggling.

"Now, what do you want me to do?" you repeat, trying not to provoke her.

Her attitude changes quickly.

"You're actually gonna go through with it?"

"I mean, you won, so…"

"Are you sure?"

"Come on, just tell me what you want me to do," you urge her.

She pauses for a moment, contemplating the terms of her victory.

"Well, since I beat you pretty badly…"

"That was close," you protest, only to earn a glare from her.

"It wasn't. Now shut up and listen."

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.

"Y'know what? You look like a tired mess right there. Let's head over to the bench and I'll think of a good prize."

"But my body's still—"

She lets out a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Alright. Get up, you lousy ass," she extends her hand, offering to pull you up.

You take it and let her lead the way to the benches. It's not that far, but the short walk to the benches is enough to make your knees wobble and legs ache. The two of you collapse onto the bench, finally able to relax and rest for a bit.

"Jeez, I didn't think the match was gonna be that hard. You did really well," she says, giving you a soft pat on the shoulder.

"Well… I was against you, after all. Of course, it'll be hard," you respond, your tone slightly annoyed.

"Hey! Don't get me wrong. It's still a nice game."

"I guess. Thanks," you say, shrugging.

A moment of silence ensues, and the two of you sit quietly, basking in the cool air. Despite feeling sore, a little break is all you need to recharge after the intense game. You then look at Taeyeon, and she doesn't seem to show any signs of exhaustion, despite sweating profusely and having her breath ragged after the match.

"Say, how come you don't look as tired as I am?" you ask her, breaking the silence.

"Well, for starters, I've got a lot more years of experience than you," she quips, grinning smugly.

You roll your eyes and sigh, too tired to give a smart retort.

"But seriously, though. You should take better care of your body. You're still young," she says, her tone sounding more like a concerned mother than a friend.

"You've been saying that for a while now," you grumble.

"Well, that's because I was your teacher! Jeez! Don't be so stubborn," she protests, giving your shoulder a light shove.

"I'm not being stubborn. I'm just tired," you then let out another deep breath. "You took all the air out of me"

"Exactly. And that's why I'm telling you to take care of your body better," she says, her tone firm.

"Okay, fine," you concede.

"Now, shall we move on?"

"Sure. Let's talk about my dare," you say, eager to finally know what she wants.

"Right. Are you sure you're in on this?"

"I'm sure. Yeah," you assure her.

"100%? No take-backs, okay?"

"If it's not anything too extreme."

"Don't worry. It's nothing like that."

You look at her, and she smirks at you. Something tells you that you'll regret this, but curiosity gets the better of you.

"Fine. Shoot it."

"Pull down your shorts."

Your jaw hangs open. You expected her to ask for a silly dare, like a funny photo or something along those lines. But this? You didn't expect this at all.

"H-huh? W-what did you just say?" you stammer, your cheeks burning red.

"Come on. It's not gonna kill you."

"But… That's—"

"Just a little fun, really."

You're speechless, your eyes wide as you process the words.

"I… I don't think I can do that."

"Hey. The deal was the loser has to do everything the winner asks, right? You lost. So, do it."

You swallow the lump in your throat and sigh. There's no getting around this.

"Okay… Fine," you reluctantly agree, slowly sliding down your shorts.

The fabric brushes against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Your heart beats fast, your palms sweating profusely as you slowly reveal more and more of your bare thighs. Your boxers are the only thing separating your modesty from the woman sitting beside you, and you can't deny her the sight of your growing erection.

Taeyeon's lips curl into a satisfied grin, and she bites her lower lip as she sees the tent forming between your legs.

"You're really turned on by this, huh?" she says, teasing you.

"It… It's not like that, I swear."

"Sure, whatever you say," she giggles.

"So… Is this it? Did I pass the dare?" you ask, trying to change the subject.

"Well, technically… But now I'm interested in something else," she replies, her voice dropping an octave.

"And? What would that be?"

"Let's just say I want to see what's underneath those boxers."

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, and you instinctively cross your legs.

"Noona… There could be people watching us," you tell her, scanning the entire area.

"It's 3 AM. Do you think those guards will even bother walking around at this hour? No one's gonna see," she reasons.

"But…"

"The deal?"

"Okay, fine. I'll do it."

Slowly, you take a deep breath and reach down for your boxers.

"Ugh… What am I doing?" you mumble, cursing at yourself.

You grab the hem and pull down the fabric grazing against your shaft. Your erection springs up, freed from the confines of your underwear.

"Wow. Now that's quite a view," Taeyeon chuckles, ogling your exposed member.

You turn away, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.

"I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey. Don't be. Especially when you have this…" she bites her lip, her eyes fixated on your dick. "Big thing right there."

Your cheeks burn a bright red, and you feel like you could explode.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Of course not! Come on, you can't tell me it's not hot."

You stay silent, unable to answer.

"Alright. Lemme suck that," she says, leaning in closer to you.

"W-what? Y-you can't be serious!"

"Hey. No take-backs."

"But this is—"

"Listen. You clearly look like you're not in on this."

"I… I didn't say that…"

"So? What's with the hesitation?"

"I-it's just that… This is kind of sudden," you reply, unable to think straight.

"Then let me ease you into it," she says, grabbing your dick with her hand.

Your breath hitches, the sudden contact of her soft hand against your sensitive shaft taking you by surprise. She slowly moves her hand up and down, gently massaging your dick. You can't help but let out a low moan as her fingers run across the tip, sending shivers down your spine.

"How does that feel?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I-I don't know…" you manage to say, your mind in a daze.

She smirks at your reaction, totally getting turned on by your response.

"You did your best so… I'll give you a consolation prize."

"H-huh? What do you mean?"

Before you can say anything, she leans in, her face just inches away from your cock.

"Wait… You can't be serious. You're going to—"

"Let me give you a little treat. You can tell me to stop after, but I hope you won't,” she says, her warm breath brushing against your shaft. “It'll be a shame, really,"

You're speechless, your mouth hanging open as you stare at her in disbelief.

"Well, here I go," she announces, leaning forward and enveloping your cock with her lips.

The sudden warmth sends a shock through your body, and you let out a moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. She starts sucking on the tip, and her tongue swirls around the head, lapping up the beads of precum. You can't believe it, but it feels so good. Your breathing quickens as she continues to suck, taking your dick deeper into her mouth. She moans against your cock, and you can feel her voice vibrating through your shaft.

"Oh, fuck…" you curse, the pleasure driving you insane.

She then grabs the base of your shaft with her hand and starts stroking you in sync with her mouth. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can't help but grab a fistful of her hair, gripping it tightly. She picks up the pace, her hand moving faster as her head bobs up and down. Her eyes lock with yours, and she's clearly enjoying this. You can see the lust in her eyes, and it's all too much for you.

The pressure builds up, your mind goes blank, and all you can think about is the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Your muscles tense up, and before you know it, your body starts shaking uncontrollably. You can feel your balls tightening, and the urge to cum is overwhelming.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

With one final thrust, you unload your seed into her mouth. Taeyeon suddenly looks surprised as you unleash a torrent of cum, filling her mouth. She then pulls out, coughing, the excess dripping down her chin.

"Sorry! I didn't know if you were ready," you apologize, worried that you might have forced her.

She continues to cough, and she wipes the excess cum off her face, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"It's okay. I was kinda taken by surprise, but it's fine," she manages to say, giving you a reassuring smile.

"I'm so sorry. I just couldn't hold it any longer," you apologize again, embarrassed by what happened.

"I told you it's okay," she tells you.

"Well… If you say so."

"And besides… It's not every day that I get to do it with a virgin," she winks as she lets out a soft laugh.

"Hey! I'm no virgin!" you protest, trying to defend your ego.

"Is that so?" she teases, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"I… I've experienced this before," you mutter.

"Sure, and that's why I got a mouthful," she chuckles, licking her lips.

"I was… I was holding out!" you retort.

"But of course," she laughs. "Just admit that you're a total virgin."

You're left speechless, unable to defend yourself. She just grins at you, clearly amused by your reaction. You want to say something, but she has you beat.

"Alright… Off to the next one!" she then exclaims, looking rather excited.

"Next one?"

"You didn't think I was just gonna leave you like this, did you? We're just getting started," she winks, giving your dick a squeeze.

"Wait, what?"

"That was just the warm-up. I have a lot of other things planned for us."

"Like what?"

"Let's just say this is gonna be the night of your life. And by the time the sun rises, you'll be thanking me,"

"I'm not so sure about this…"

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing," she reassures you, flashing you a devious smile.

She lets go of your dick. You feel relieved that her tight grip is no longer on your throbbing cock, but also a bit disappointed at the loss of her warm touch. She then takes off her clothes, exposing her voluptuous body. Her breasts are barely covered by an orange lace bra, and her hips are accentuated by a matching thong. You gulp as you take in the sight, and you can feel your dick getting even harder.

"What's wrong? Getting nervous?" she asks, giggling.

"Uh, yeah. This is really sudden. I'm not sure what's going on," you admit, unable to look away from her gorgeous body.

"Come on, it's nothing you can't handle. Just enjoy it," she says, grabbing your hand and placing it on her waist.

You can't deny the electricity that runs through your body the moment her skin makes contact with yours. Her body is so soft and warm, and it feels so good to touch her. It's intoxicating at the least, and you can't help but be swept up by the moment.

"Now, I'll let you have a taste of my body. You better make the most of it," she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear.

You let out a soft moan, the sensation driving you wild.

"So? What are you waiting for?"

"I…"

"It's okay. You can touch me," she assures you, guiding your hands towards her breasts.

"But, Noona…"

"Touch me more."

You hesitate for a moment, but she urges you on, and you give in.

Your fingers trace the outline of her bra, feeling her erect nipples through the fabric. As if by instinct, you gently squeeze her breasts, eliciting a moan from her.

"Mmmh… That's it. More," she purrs, arching her back.

Your heart races as her breasts push against your palms, her nipples rubbing against the thin material of her bra. The friction feels incredible, and the pleasure drives you crazy. You're not sure how much longer you can hold out, but you don't want it to end.

"You're so cute. You look like you're enjoying this," she teases, smiling.

Guilty as charged.

"Just relax. I'll take care of everything."

She then presses her lips against yours, her tongue pushing past your lips. Your tongues dance, and you savor her sweet taste. She then nibbles on your lower lip, and you can't help but moan.

"Nggh! Noona, wait," you breathe out, pulling away from her.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

"I… I think this is too fast."

She giggles. "Awh. Poor thing."

She then cups your face with her hand and kisses you again, a much slower, passionate kiss this time. You feel her smile against your lips, and it sends a shiver down your spine. It feels so good, so addicting. Yet you don't want to admit it.

"Taeyeon-noona, I…"

"Do you want to take it slow?"

You only gave her a nod.

"There. Just tell me what you want."

She then reaches back and unhooks her bra, tossing it to the side. Her bare breasts glisten under the dim lighting, and you can't help but stare in awe.

"There. I hope this evens us out," she smirks. You can see her cheeks blushing as she puts her magnificent assets on full display.

"Y-you don't have to, y'know? I'm fine with—"

Before you can utter another word, she pulls you towards her, pressing your face against her plump, supple breasts. Muffled, you try to push back, but she holds you firmly against her, not letting go. The warmth of her skin and the softness of her breasts overwhelm your senses, slowly melting your hesitations away.

Before you know it, you feel your hands explore the rest of her exposed body, gliding across everything you can reach.

She can't help but laugh and moan simultaneously as you explore her body.

"Getting braver, aren’t we?"

You choose not to answer and instead let your actions speak for you.

Taeyeon's skin feels so soft and smooth, and it's a wonder to touch. You can't help but want to touch her even more, to explore every inch of her. You suck on her erect nipples, and her breath hitches, letting out a soft moan.

"That's it. Take it all in," she whispers, running her fingers through your hair.

Your heart races as her scent fills your nose, and it's driving you crazy. You can't help but want more, and you feel yourself getting lost in the moment.

"Taeyeon-noona…"

"Shhhh… Don't say a word. Just enjoy it," she replies, her voice low and seductive.

Obliging, you continue to taste her, relishing in the sweet, salty taste of her skin. Your hands travel across her body, touching every inch of her. She bites her lip and arches her back as you trace the curve of her spine, and her breathing quickens as you explore her thighs.

"Oh, fuck…" she breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your hands then find their way to her butt, and you squeeze her cheeks, feeling the soft, firm flesh in your hands. She looks at you with lustful eyes, and you can see the desire written all over her face.

"Oh, my… You're getting good at this," she purrs, smiling seductively.

You blush slightly, her compliment clearly lifting your confidence. You shoot a smile back at her, fueled with confidence and hunger for more. She smirks at your newfound boldness, welcoming your hunger with equal enthusiasm.

Your lips lock with hers for another round of torrid passion, the heat between your bodies intensifying with each passing second. Your tongues dance in a fiery tango, exploring every crevice and making each other elicit a fervent moan. Neither of you is backing down, eager to win over the other as if your earlier spar wasn't enough.

"Noona, you're… Amazing," you manage to gasp between heated kisses, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

She smirks. "You're no slouch either."

"But, you… I…"

"Mhhh… Don't stop now," Taeyeon whispers, her voice dripping with need.

"But let me just…" you struggle to remove your shirt despite the urgency of the moment.

With her expert guidance, you quickly shed your shirt and throw it aside, giving your partner an unobstructed view of your bare chest.

"There we go. Better?"

"Yeah. You were on top of me so I had trouble taking it off." you jest, a playful smirk spreading across your face.

She then chuckles, hitting you playfully on the shoulder.

"And you blame me for that?"

"Why not? You keep on pushing me down."

"Jeez… I'm not that heavy, you know?"

"I know, I know. You're just so aggressive," you tease, running your fingers through her skin.

Taeyeon coos at your touch, her body pulsating with desire.

"Hmmm? Is that your way of flirting with me?"

You shrug. "Well… It's worth a shot."

She replies with a soft chuckle.

"Consider it a successful shot," she breathes, her voice laced with lust.

You blush, feeling a surge of pride at having successfully aroused Taeyeon.

"Well… Thank you."

"Then let's get back to it, shall we?" She purrs, her hands eagerly tracing the contours of your chest all the way to your abdomen. You shiver at her touch, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

She then looks at you with an inviting gaze, and her lips curl into a sly grin. You can't help but stare in awe, mesmerized by her beauty.

"W-what? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, silly," she giggles. "I want you to touch me, too."

"Oh. Right."

"I can't be the only one enjoying this, y'know?"

"My bad, noona."

You resume your passionate makeout session. The two of you moan against each other's lips, exploring each other's bodies. The two of you are so lost in the moment that the world around you begins to fade, and all that matters is the heat, the electricity, the passion.

"Fuck. You taste so good," Taeyeon moans, her voice dripping with lust.

"Mmmh… You do too. Fuck," you reply, the heat and desire growing within you.

"But seriously…"

"Hmmm?"

"Learn to get a hint," she giggles.

"Heh. Sorry," you mumble, trying to regain control. "I was kinda lost."

"Understandable," she snickers. "It's your first time, after all."

"H-hey. You're making me sound like a virgin."

"Well… You kinda are."

"Come on now…"

Taeyeon can't help but chuckle at your response, amused by your reaction.

"Fine. Let's not talk about that."

"I'm not that innocent, you know," you retort, pouting.

"Really, now?"

"Y-yeah. Really."

"So you wouldn't mind if we take things further… Right?"

You gulp, suddenly aware of what she means.

"Well… I guess?"

"Good."

She then reaches down and slowly pulls down her panties. You just realize how wet she is as you stare in awe. She then grabs your hand and leads it to her core. You hesitate for a moment, but she guides you, urging you to take things further.

"It's okay. You can touch me."

You gently cup her mound, feeling the slickness of her wet folds. Her pussy is hot, and her juices flow freely. She shudders as your fingers brush against her sensitive bud, and her body tenses up.

"Yes… That's it!" she moans, biting her lip.

"Is this it? Are you sure?"

"Mhmm… Just go ahead."

Your fingers explore her core, and you find her swollen clit. You rub her bundle of nerves in a circular motion, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

"Oh, fuck! That feels so good."

"Are you sure? Am I doing it right?"

"Yes! Just keep going," she moans, her voice barely above a whisper.

You increase the pace, applying a bit more pressure. She writhes under your touch, her body trembling with pleasure.

"F-fuck… Y-yes!" she moans, her voice shaking.

The heat is building within you, and you can't hold back any longer. You decide to switch positions, with Taeyeon now resting her body on the bench. At this view, she looks so small, so inviting. You proceed to kiss her thighs as your hand continues its assault.

"Mmmh! Oh shit! Yes! Keep going!"

You then kiss her core, licking her wet folds. She shrieks, her voice ringing in your ears. She grabs a fistful of your hair, holding on for dear life. You then lick her clit, eliciting a loud moan from her. She can't hold on much longer, her body writhing in ecstasy.

"Fuck! You're so good! I'm… I'm close!"

You can't help but be proud, and you redouble your efforts, sucking on her clit. She arches her back, and she screams, her orgasm tearing through her body.

"I'm gonna cum! Shit! I'm gonna fucking—aghh!"

You watch as her body spasms, and her legs quiver. She rides out her orgasm, her body trembling with each wave of pleasure. She finally collapses, panting, her body slick with sweat.

"Holy shit. That was… Amazing," she breathes, her voice shaky.

"Did… Did I do good?"

"Of course, you did. Not bad for a first-timer."

"Well… Thanks."

"Now, let me return the favor," she says, a smirk spreading across her face.

"What do you mean?"

"It's your turn now," she says, licking her lips.

"B-but I already—"

She interrupts, putting a finger against your lips.

"I know you have some left in you" Her hands move down towards your privates, massaging every bit of it. "And besides…"

She then leans over and whispers to your ear, her voice seductive.

"I'm still not satisfied."

As if on cue, you can feel your member throbbing in response, as if beckoning her to touch you even more.

"Looks like someone's ready for more," she giggles.

"Hey… I'm just sensitive," you protest, looking at her with your best puppy-dog eyes.

Taeyeon lets out a laugh, seemingly caught off-guard by your adorable attempt at innocence.

"Oh, cut that out. That doesn't suit you in the slightest," she playfully retorts.

"I just thought I'd give it a try," you reply, looking disappointed.

"Don't you ever do that again, alright?"

"Why not?"

She then pulls you closer. You can see the sheer desire in her eyes burning through her gaze. She seems to want more from you than just a casual encounter.

"I don't want cute and innocent from you."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to be as fierce as you were earlier," she whispers, her tone low and seductive.

"As you wish, Miss Winner," you say, a cheeky grin spreading across your face.

"Show me what you got," she says, her tone challenging.

Without a moment's hesitation, you crash your lips against hers for yet another round, kissing her passionately. She reciprocates, and her hands grip your body, her nails digging into your skin. It hurts, but the pain is drowned out by the intense pleasure.

You break the kiss and attack her neck, nibbling on her soft flesh. She moans, and her hands wrap around your back, pulling you closer. You continue your assault, and she writhes underneath you, her breathing ragged.

"Ooh, shit! Yes! That's it!" she gasps, her voice cracking.

You continue your trail down her body, planting soft kisses along her collarbone. She whimpers, and her hands run through your hair, encouraging you to keep going. You then move further south, planting a soft kiss on her chest, right between her breasts.

"Yes… Yes! Please, keep going," she whispers, her voice breathy and needy.

You then plant another kiss on her left breast, followed by a soft bite on her nipple, making her whimper.

"Ahh shit!" she groans, her body shaking with pleasure.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No… Please don't," she pleads, her voice dripping with need.

"Well then," you say, kissing her other breast, biting her nipple.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Like that?"

"Yes! I like that!"

"What about this?"

You move further south, trailing kisses down her belly. She moans as your lips caress her skin, her body writhing with pleasure. You then reach her thighs, and you give them a soft kiss.

"Yes! Oh, god!" she moans, her body trembling.

You then spread her legs apart, exposing her pink pussy, glistening with her juices.

"Oh, fuck. Look at you," you marvel, staring at her womanhood.

"I know. It's fucking amazing," she says, a satisfied smile on her face.

You then move closer, and your tongue finds her slit. You slowly drag your tongue along her wet folds, eliciting a moan from her. She throws her head back, her eyes closed, as she relishes in the sensation.

"Shit! There it goes again! That fucking tongue!"

"Do you want me to stop?"

She opens her eyes, staring right at you.

"No! Don't you fucking dare!"

"Alright," you chuckle, continuing your assault.

You lap at her wet folds, lapping up her juices. You savor her sweet, musky taste, and it makes you feel drunk.

"Ooh, shit! That's the spot," she gasps, her hands gripping the back of your head.

You continue your assault, licking her clit and teasing her wet entrance. Her body trembles and her moans get louder.

"Ooh, fuck! I'm getting close," she pants, her voice shaky.

You intensify your assault, sucking on her clit while inserting two fingers inside her.

"Are you gonna cum?" you ask, staring right into her eyes.

"I'm… I'm close," she whimpers, her voice barely audible.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes… Yes! I want to cum!" she gasps, her hips bucking.

As her screams go a few pitches higher, you let go of her. Taeyeon is left hanging, her body shaking with frustration.

"Huh? W-what the fuck?"

"I don't want you to cum yet," you explain.

"But I was so close, you fuck! You could've—"

You withdraw fully from assaulting her core, only to show her your own erection standing at full attention.

"I could've just let you cum…"

You position your shaft against her pussy, brushing her entrance.

"But I want to do it…"

You rub your shaft against her wet slit, making her groan.

"When I'm inside you."

"Oh f-fuck," she bites her lip, anticipating your next move.

"This is what you wanted all along, right?"

You press your tip against her entrance, and her eyes widen.

"Yes. You finally get—ooh!"

You continue to tease her, rubbing your cock against her entrance.

"Then, shall I?"

"Yes. I want you to—agh fuck!"

"Tell me how much you want it."

"I… I want it! I want you to fuck me!"

You continue to tease her, pushing the tip of your cock into her, making her moan.

"I don't think you're sincere, noona," you tease, pushing your cock further into her.

"Fuck you! Stop teasing me and start fucking me, you asshole!" she cries out in desperation.

"Then tell it to me like you mean it," you tell her, tapping her entrance with your length.

Her hips then shake as if begging for something. Her breathing is heavy, and her eyes are filled with lust and need.

"Please… I need it," she whimpers, her voice shaking and full of need.

"Then say it, Taeyeon."

She grits her teeth, and her eyes glaring at you, filled with both anger and frustration.

"Fuck me, alright? Fuck me like you mean it! I want you to fill me up and make me cum! Make me scream! Make me fucking lose my mind! I need it! I need your fucking dick inside me! Right. Fucking. Now!"

Without warning, you push your cock into her, eliciting a cry of both pain and pleasure from her.

"You mean like this?"

"Ah! Ahh fuck!"

You slam your cock into her, and she moans, her body shuddering.

"Enjoying this, aren't you, noona?"

"Fuck… I'm really gonna cum!"

Her back arches and her hands grip the bench. You continue to fuck her, and her moans get louder. You can feel her pussy tightening around your cock, and her body trembles.

"Shit! Shit! I'm cumming—ahh!"

Taeyeon screams, her body quaking in pleasure as her orgasm rocks through her body. Excess fluids gush from her core, coating your shaft and dribbling onto the bench, until it creates a small puddle underneath. You can't help but smile as you watch her, her expression filled with pure ecstasy.

She then falls limp, her body relaxing as her orgasm subsides. She looks at you, a satisfied smile on her face.

"How was it, noona? Was it good?"

"That was… Incredible," she manages to say, her voice still shaky.

"I'm glad I was able to satisfy you," you chuckle, pulling her into an embrace.

"Yeah… You did good for a newbie," she smirks, chuckling.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. But you still have a lot to—ooh!"

You slam your cock into her, catching her by surprise.

"You say that but…"

You thrust in and out, and her eyes widen.

"Looks like you're losing your mind…"

"Oh fuck."

"To a virgin," you slam your cock deep inside her, her body shaking.

"Ahh! This fucking cock! Ahh!"

"So, tell me… What was that you said again?"

You pound her relentlessly, and her moans get louder. Her body shakes, and her breathing is ragged. For a stick-up mentor and tennis partner, she sure is enjoying her role reversal.

"I… I can't… Fuck! Oh, shit!"

"Pretty please?" you ask, slowing down the pace of your thrusts.

"N-no! No! Please don't slow down!" she pleads, her voice trembling.

"Then say it."

"Oh fuck you—ahh! I can't take it anymore!"

"I can do this all day."

"Agh! You asshole!"

You slam into her, and she screams, her body convulsing.

"Fuck! Not that spot!"

"Say it, Taeyeon. Say it."

With her face painted red in anger and embarrassment, she gives in.

"F-fine. Fine! You… I love your fucking cock! Your fucking virgin cock!" she screams at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing through the court.

"That's it. Let everyone hear you."

"Oh, fuck. I fucking love you," she moans, her voice dripping with need.

Her last few words catch you off-guard, but the sight of her drunk-hazed face and her pleasured moans make you forget it almost immediately.

"Then I'm yours."

You slam into her once more, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. With arms around your back, she pulls you in as she incoherently screams into your ear. Taeyeon has finally lost her mind, and you love to see it.

"Oh fuhg… It'sh sho gud!"

"What is good, huh? Tell me."

"Y-your cock… Your cock ish sho gud," she whimpers, her body spasming.

"And how does my cock feel inside you?"

"Sho big… It'sh filling my pusshy sho mush!"

"And whose is it?"

"Yoursh! All yours! My pusshy ish yoursh!"

"I can't quite hear you, noona."

"Your pusshy! It'sh all yoursh!"

"Good. Keep telling me. I love to hear it."

"Aahhh… Y-your cock… Fuck me more!"

You fuck her senseless, and her body writhes in pleasure. She continues to babble nonsense, her mind gone blank from the pleasure. You continue to slam into her, her tight cunt sucking in your shaft. You can feel her walls clenching, her pussy desperate to milk your cock.

"Taeyeon-noona, fuck… You feel so good."

"Aah! More! Give me more!"

"You want more? How about this?"

You then pick her up and fuck her as she's suspended in the air. Her eyes widen, and her mouth is agape.

"Oh fuhk… No. No!

She screams, and her legs wrap around your waist. You hold onto her tight, and your pace quickens.

"Oh, shit! You're sho deep!"

"You like that, huh?"

"Ahh… Y-yesh… More… Harder!"

"As you wish, noona."

You increase your pace, slamming into her faster and harder. With her light, small frame, you can go deeper than before, as if it's nothing. Or maybe all that rigorous training is finally paying off.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!"

"You like that, huh?"

"Y-yesh… I like it…"

"Good. Now, let me give you a reward."

You thrust faster and deeper, and her moans get louder. And as you do, you can feel your balls churn, the pressure building within them.

"Oh, fuck. Taeyeon-noona, I'm going to cum soon," you warn her, feeling the sensation rising.

"Yesh… Ghiv me your cum!"

"Are you sure? Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Yesh! Let me have it!"

"Alright then."

You amp up the pace as you reach your climax, and your thrusts get harder and faster. Her body is shaking, and her voice cracks as she moans uncontrollably.

"Oh fuhk! Here it cumsh!"

You slam into her one last time, burying your cock deep inside her. With a loud moan, you erupt, unloading a torrent of hot, thick cum. She screams, her voice ringing through the court, as your load fills her up, flooding her womb with seed. She clenches her eyes shut, and her hands grip your shoulders, holding on for dear life.

"Shit, noona… I can't stop!"

"Jush giv it all to me!"

You keep pouring into her, not stopping for a moment. Her body shakes, and her pussy tightens, squeezing out every last drop. You feel like you're being squeezed dry. Painful, yes, but you can't help but moan at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh fuck… I think I'm done…" you finally gasp, your thrusts slowing down.

"Ahh… So mush cum…" she sighs, her voice breathy and sultry.

You pull out of her, and her eyes are unfocused. A deluge of white ooze seeps out of her pink hole, a mixture of your fluids and hers. You can't believe the amount you have ejected, and neither can Taeyeon, as it creates a larger puddle on the ground.

"Holy shit," she gasps, her glazed eyes widening with disbelief.

"Fuck… I think I went overboard," you tell her, watching your semen flow out of her.

"You let out… So much…" she breathes, her weak body barely holding her upright.

"Well, I couldn't control myself. Not with you."

"Hahh… Thanks," she smiles, a hint of pride in her tone.

You both catch your breaths, the smell of sex hanging heavily in the air. Your body tells you that you've exhausted your reserves, and maybe so did Taeyeon's. But the sight and sound of your previous actions still linger in your head and your desire for more remains.

"Say… Noona…"

"Yeah."

Your shaft slowly stands back up, throbbing at her entrance and eager to continue. She lets out a soft gasp as she notices your eagerness. You can see the hesitation in her eyes, fueling your hunger even more.

"Can we?"

"You're restless today, aren't you?" she giggles.

"Can't help it," you grin, rubbing your length against her slit.

"Fuck… That feels so good," she moans, closing her eyes.

"So? Can we?"

"Hmmm… Alright. I guess one more time wouldn't hurt."

"Thank you," you tell her, a big grin forming on your face.

"So, what do you want to—whoa!"

Before she could finish, you swiftly lowered her to the ground and spread her legs apart. You position yourself in front of her, your shaft poised and ready. She looks at your erection, her face flushing a shade of red.

"Fuck… Here we go again," she sighs, anticipation in her eyes.

You then guide your shaft into her, and she whimpers, her pussy swallowing you whole.

"Urgh! You're so fucking tight, noona!"

"More like you're too fucking big," she grunts, her walls straining to accommodate your girth.

"And you're loving it," you reply, smiling sheepishly.

"Mhmm…" she nods, biting her lip.

"That's what I like to hear," you smirk, and without warning, start thrusting.

"Ahh! Oh shit! Fuck me harder!"

You comply, slamming your cock into her at a rapid pace. Her voice echoes through the court, a melody that fills you with immense satisfaction. The sound of her skin slapping against yours only adds to the pleasure, and you find yourself thrusting even harder.

"Fuck… Yes… Harder! Fucking pound my pussy!"

You slam into her faster, harder, and deeper. Her body writhes with pleasure, her hips bucking and her legs quivering. She can't help but wrap her arms around you, her hands digging into your skin. Her legs also have you locked in, the intensity of her hold surprising.

"Shit, Taeyeon-noona… You're so good," you groan, relishing the tightness of her pussy.

"Yes! Fuck! Right there! Keep fucking me like that!" she cries, her voice cracking.

"Here? Like this?"

You hit a spot inside her, and her body jolts.

"Aghh! Yes! There! Right fucking there!"

"You like that?"

"Yes! Fuck! I fucking love it!"

You continue to slam into her, wild like a beast in heat, hitting the same spot over and over again. She can't stop screaming, her voice cracking and her body shuddering with pleasure. and her pussy clenches around you, tightening even more. You can't help but let out a groan, the sensation driving you mad. You feel her orgasm coming, and you're not far behind.

"Shit… Noona, I'm gonna cum again!"

"Me too… Me too!"

"Hrgh! Here it goes! Take it all!"

"Yes! Cum with me! Cum inside me! Fill me up with your fucking cum!"

You feel the pressure rising, and you can't hold it any longer. You ram your cock deep into her, and with one last thrust, you let out a primal roar, releasing a torrent of hot cum into her. She screams, her voice ringing through the court as your thick load fills her up once again.

She cums right after, her pussy convulsing around your cock, unleashing a flood of her own juices. As if a dam had been burst, her fluids flowed freely, gushing out of her pussy and coating your cock. It's as if you're drowning, the intensity is overwhelming.

"Oh fukh! There'sh sho mush!"

"Taeyeon… You're so… Tight!" you gasp, your cock trapped by her pussy.

Not that you can, nor that you could. Your hips continue to buck, the pleasure almost unbearable. It's as if her cunt is trying to squeeze every last drop out of you, and it's succeeding. You keep pouring into her, filling her womb up to the brim.

"Ahh! It'sh not shtopping! Your cum ish sho mush!"

As your thrusts come to a halt, you slam your cock one last time, burying yourself deep inside her. Excess fluid squirts out of her, adding to the already impressive puddle underneath you. You can feel her pussy milking your shaft, squeezing out the last drop of cum.

After what seems like an eternity, your orgasm subsides, and you slowly pull out of her, your cock still oozing with cum. She sighs, and a copious amount of white liquid drips from her entrance. A mixture of both your cum and hers. After your earlier outburst, you can't believe how much you manage to let out, and neither could she.

"Fughk… Sho mush…" she pants, her eyes glassy.

"Noona… That was intense," you tell her, trying to catch your breath.

"Fuhk. Yes… I feel sho dihzzy."

You can't help but chuckle at her expression, her face flushed with exhaustion.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Yeah… I guesh," she mumbles, a sleepy smile spreading across her face.

You then carry her as you sit on the bench, her exhausted body resting against yours. With her remaining strength, she slowly wraps her arms around your back, pulling herself closer. You reciprocate, enveloping her in a tight embrace.

"Ow, ow!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"You're hugging me too hard!"

"Oh. Sorry. I went overboard, noona."

"Heh. Don't be," she laughs, nuzzling against you.

The two of you spend some time recovering from your intense session, the cool breeze a nice reprieve from the sweltering. She then looks up at you, her eyes full of desire.

"What? Do you want more?" you ask.

"No, I'm tired… Just hold me, okay?"

"If you say so," you chuckle, giving her a soft peck on the forehead.

She giggles, snuggling against you.

"We were kinda loud, weren't we?"

"Maybe."

"Do you think someone saw us?"

"I hope not," you chuckle, rubbing her shoulders.

"I do!"

From somewhere on the bleachers, a man's voice suddenly blurts out, emerges, the sound of his shoes echoing through the court. Your heart sinks as the two of you search for the source, finding a man sitting on the bleachers.

"Oh shit. There was someone," you gasp, your face flushing with embarrassment.

"Sorry for not telling you two," the stranger, wearing what might me a janitor's uniform, apologizes, looking rather bashful.

"How long were you there?" Taeyeon asks, yelling, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

"I heard screaming and moaning, so I went to check it out. And there I saw the two of you going at it."

"And you didn't stop us?" she retorts.

"Why would I? You lovebirds seem to be enjoying it," the stranger says, his tone nonchalant.

You and Taeyeon then exchanged glances, your faces blushing red.

"And besides…"

The two of you look back at the stranger.

"Security here doesn't give a shit during these hours."

"Really? Do they not monitor the cameras?"

"They do."

You both shudder at his response.

"But they'd rather get some shut-eye than deal with any after-hours shenanigans," he answers, chuckling at his own statement.

"So… Do they not care about what happens here?"

"Are you crazy? We've seen enough of that stuff already! It's common during these hours."

The stranger's words echoed in your ears, leaving you both stunned and relieved by the realization that your bold escapade wasn't as discreet as you

"Heh. I guess I did pick the right time---ow!"

Taeyeon suddenly hits you in between your playful comment with a playful yet embarrassed smirk on her face.

"You sonovabitch! You let people watch us? In public, of all places? I hate you!"

"Hey! Hey! It was your idea to have some fun in public," you protest, rubbing your arm where she hit you.

"But you made the reservation! You sneaky fuck… You probably knew about this!"

She continues to scold you, her words laced with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. For such a soft punch, they sure are quite painful.

"No, I swear! I didn't know anyone would be here!"

"I swear, the next time you have your way with me, I will…"

"Hey. Don't blame me! You pulled me in on this!"

"Why you…"

"Before you lovers continue to be all playful and whatnot…" the janitor interrupts, "You might want to pack things up."

"Huh?" the two of you ask in unison.

He then points towards the sky as the dawning sun begins to peek over the horizon. You quickly check the time on your phone and realize that the time you reserved for your outdoor rendezvous is nearly up. With your exhausted bodies and flushed faces, you hurriedly gather your belongings, discarded clothes and all, trying your best to fix yourselves as fast and as composed as possible.

"What about the mess?" Taeyeon suddenly blurts out, her cheeks still flushed from the recent activities.

"What mess?" you ask, your focus shifting between the looming sunrise and Taeyeon's concerned expression.

"This mess!" She gestures towards the puddles of sweat and other bodily fluids that soak the bench and the concrete ground beneath it.

You exchange a panicked glance, realizing the evidence of your passionate encounter is scattered for all to see.

"What are we gonna do with this?" she exclaims, worry evident in her voice.

"Fuck… Uhh, shit! Gimme a sec…"

You quickly think of ways to resolve the situation.

"Hey! Don't worry about that," the janitor calls out, waving his hand dismissively.

"What? You're gonna clean all this?" you ask, a mix of relief and surprise in your voice.

"Uhh… Yeah! That's my job," he chuckles.

"Well… Thank you, sir!" you yell, waving your hand at him.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Taeyeon cries out, her voice ringing with relief. She then pulls your arm, nudging you to leave the scene with her. "We have to go!"

You and Taeyeon then rush towards the exit, your hearts pounding with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. From what was initially a harmless tennis practice session, things took an unexpectedly erotic turn, allowing you and your partner to unleash all your pent-up desires in a frisky and uninhibited display of passion. Fucking on a public tennis court was definitely not part of the plan, but it was an experience neither of you would soon forget.

"Ugh… Walking without underwear is the worst," you groan as you and Taeyeon hurriedly walk outside of the building, your exhausted dick swaying freely beneath your shorts.

"You think? I haven't even put anything underneath in a hurry!" she replies, frustration lacing her voice. Her breasts bounce under her clothes with each hurried step. "Hngh… I can feel some of your cum dripping down my thighs."

"It does?" you ask, shocked and curious, leaning in to inspect her arousing situation. "Lemme see…"

She then prepares to swing her arm to hit you. Her face furious yet blushing.

"Don't you even dare!"

"Alright, alright. My bad," you chuckle, raising your hands in surrender.

As the sight of the parking lot comes into view, the two of you sprint towards your car, not minding of anything else around. You quickly open the passenger door for Taeyeon, and she jumps in eagerly. You then jump into the driver's seat, heart pounding with nervousness and you start the engine and leave the place for good.

"Right," you breathe out as you adjust yourself in your seat.

"Let's go to my place," she tells you.

"Well, duh. Of course I'll drop you at your place, noona. Where else would I even…"

"No."

"Huh? What do you mean ‘no’?"

"I mean, you're all sweaty and whatnot, so…"

Twiddling with her hair, Taeyeon then looks at you with a coy expression on her face.

"If you want… You can take a shower at my place. I wouldn’t mind.”

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

And that's another SNSD member written down! I'm halfway there... Maybe. I really can't imagine her other than the "Noona You'd Like to Date" and with my renewed interest over the "Prince of Tennis" series, I thought I'd give this idea a shot. I don't know much about tennis tho... So I hope I did a decent job at least. 🙏

Also... Some of you may not know this, but a few hours from now is my Queen Taeyeon's birthday! Going 35 and still one of the hottest idols in the industry. God-fucking-damn. 🥵

I have more stories lined up (and waiting to be written by yours truly OMFG I hate myself) and I'm very eager to share them to everyone. The "Spotlight" series is still. Don't worry. I didn't forget about it and hopefully I don't. I just thought of making stories of other idols in between to break it up a bit.

Once again, thank you to @capslocked and @sparkynsfws for your help in polishing this story, as well as to @braaan for yet another fire poster. Thank you so much! 🤗

Thank you for reading! 🙇

#smut #kpopfanfiction #kpopfanfic #kpopsmut #snsdsmut #taeyeonsmut #readerinsert #malereader

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