#immediately when he calls her arisen she’s like—how did you know?

[bearlytolerant]

masquerade

[mavrintarou]

[4:38 PM] Oikawa Toru [9]

I'm 89% sure the next part will be the last. This chapter is filled with heavy angst but comfort and understanding.

Warning: implied mild smut, angst & comfort but cliffhanging ending

Eighth part Tenth part

.

Toru glared at the new wall that had been replaced between his and Y/n’s unit. He acknowledges his disdain for it. He detested both the physical and emotional distance that had arisen between him and Y/n.

Within a day, maintenance repaired the wall between their units, putting this unbearable space between them.

In the blink of an eye, everything changed, or more like in a heartbeat, everything changed for him and Y/n.

His heart has been numb since the moment Y/n announced she was pregnant and felt like it had stopped beating when she said the baby may not be his.

Everything became a blur at that moment.

“P – plea – se le – leave… I need sp – space…” she struggled with her stuttering and hiccups from her cries.

Toru was reluctant to leave her alone but to his best judgment, he needed some time to process what she just told him.

How had he not realized the changes? Especially when he had first-hand experience with Lucia when she became pregnant with Mateo.

As he recalled the brushed memories… it all began to piece together.

“Don’t – don’t suck too hard…” Y/n whimpered, blushing from watching Toru and feeling the suction he had on her sensitive nipple.

Another time when he was buried deep inside her, Y/n cried with tears pooling in her eyes. “You feel… you feel so deep…”  

Toru immediately stopped his movements and caressed her cheek, “am I hurting you?”  He wiped her tears away and only smiled when she shook her head, telling him he made her feel good.

These were tell-tale signs he remembered going through with Lucia.

It had been 48 hours since he last saw her but it felt like an eternity.

She has not returned his seven missed calls nor the numerous text messages. He knows he should respect her space but he couldn’t help but feel the distance between them is only pushing them further and further apart.

For an hour, Toru and Mateo hung out in Mateo’s large playpen together. The baby kept himself occupied with the toys Y/n had purchased him and Toru could only wonder what was running through his son’s mind.

Did he miss Y/n too?

It was two short nights but Toru spent every second of it going over the scenario.

Y/n was pregnant.

There was a probability that the baby could not be his.

That meant… it was that man that had visited her weeks ago?

“Woojin?” the name fell off his lips  

All he could remember from that first and last encounter was that this person was tall like him, a slightly smaller physique but he and this man had the same dark hair and body complexion.

Toru couldn’t help but feel jealous of this Woojin person. Who was he to Y/n and what was their relationship? How long have they known each other?

All questions attacked him and he groaned, making Mateo look at him confused.

“I miss Y/n,” he told Mateo, who instantly perked up at the sound of her name. “You miss her too?” His son stared at him as if waiting for her to appear. “Should we go see her on the other side?” He picked up his son and together they headed towards the door.

The moment his door swung open, Toru’s eyes widened seeing Y/n leaving her unit as well.

With a suitcase beside her.

Y/n called his name softly, yet he heard the sadness and pain in her tone.

“Are you… going somewhere?” He shifted Mateo in his arms, who was squirming at the sight of Y/n.

He sensed the hesitancy as she quickly shut the door to her unit before letting out a deep breath. She approached him with her luggage left by her door.

“Where… are you going?” The question weighed heavily on him, as difficult to utter as it was to bear. His heart throbbed with discomfort, reluctant to confront the truth.

“I’m – I’m going to Ko… rea… to Korea for a few days,” Y/n answered, looking at him directly in the eye. She hesitated but reached for his free hand, holding it gently. “I will be back, I promise.” Y/n gazes into his eyes, “I’ll come back to you, I will come back to you.”

Toru untangled his hand from hers and drew her into an embrace, murmuring, “what is the reason?”

Despite knowing the reason, he understood the rationale behind it and knew that it would only inflict pain upon himself by asking, but he felt compelled to inquire regardless.

Her arms wrapped around his waist, and he felt her fist a handful of his shirt. “I should – I should tell him.”

Toru clenched his eyes tightly shut. He anticipated it, and braced himself for it, yet why did it sting even more?

“I understand,” he sighed, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “Okay, have a safe flight and please come back to me.”

“I will,” she pressed her lips over his heart.

.

Mateo slept soundlessly in Toru’s arm for his afternoon nap. Their large living room seemed larger and too quiet than usual. Even for a short period, his living room was filled with Y/n’s laughter, her singing to the wrong lyrics of Mateo’s lullabies. It felt so lively and filled with lots of comfort that warmed his heart.

After ensuring Mateo wouldn’t wake up, Toru laid him in his crib. He reached for Y/n’s wool cardigan that had been in his crib and placed it beside the sleeping baby who found comfort in it.

 He closed the door to Mateo’s nursery and turned on his baby monitor. Toru was about to help himself to a cup of tea to calm his nerves when he heard something strange outside his unit.

If Y/n was on her way to the airport, who would be outside?

Without looking at the camera that pointed out to the lobby shared between him and Y/n, he pushed the door open and was ready to confront whoever it was but froze halfway.

Y/n looks up, startled and half crouching. Her luggage was lying flat on the ground as if it slipped from her hand.

“Y/n?” He blinked a couple of times, even rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands to make sure he was truly seeing her and that she was not just a hallucination. Over an hour ago he had made a tough decision to let her go, how was she… “Aren’t you supposed to be at the airport? Or on the plane to Korea?”

He walked towards her when Y/n quickly stood up and closed the distance between them, throwing herself at him, and wrapping her legs and arms around him.

Toru caught her, his arms naturally wrapping around her and supporting her weight. He sighed and hugged her tightly.

“I couldn’t do it,” Y/n finally whispered, she leaned back to look into his eyes. She quickly explained how she sat at the gates contemplating the situation and made the decision not to get on the plane. “I couldn’t go through it. Woojin deserves to know but I think I’m being too impulsive right now.” She cupped his face and pressed her lips against his. “I should have talked to you, figure this out together… that’s if you… want to figure it out together.”

“I do,” he confirmed quickly. One of his hands snaked behind her head, bringing it down to his. “I want to figure this out with you.”

Y/n brushed her nose against his, “I love you. I love you so much Oikawa Toru.”

Toru sighed, and a soft grunt came from his throat. “I love you too, Y/l/n Y/f/n.” Without putting her down, he walked over to pick up her luggage and towed it behind them into his unit.

.

They lay in the middle of Mateo’s large playpen.

“I want to get a paternity DNA test done.”

Toru rolled onto this side and supported his weight on his elbow. “Okay, I think that’s a good start too. Should we start with me?”

Y/n looked at him confused, “you?”

Toru nodded, a hand reaching out to palm her flat belly. He couldn’t voice how badly he wished and hoped that the baby that was nourishing inside Y/n’s body was his.

It never crossed his mind that he would want another child after Mateo, he’ll be honest that he didn’t want any more children and would be content with just Mateo. But since his rekindling with Y/n and the current situation, would he be so bold and willing to help her raise a child that was not his own?

“To rule it out,” he answered quietly, “it’s a small possibility… but I’m willing to hold my breath that this child could be mine.” He reached to touch her hair, “if it’s my baby then you wouldn’t have to bother talking to Woojin.”

Y/n sat up and motioned for him to sit up and as soon as he was upward, Y/n crawled on his lap and hugged him.

“Toru,” she uttered his name quietly under her breath, “I need to – need to know…” she paused to take a deep breath, “will – will you still want to be with me… if – if this child is not – not yours?”

No matter how many different scenarios he thought in his head, the one that weighed heavily on him was the high possibility that this child was not his. He asked himself if he would be able to raise a child that was not his own and the answer was yes, he would be able to raise another child that was not his.

If it was Y/n, who was also willing to love another child that wasn’t her own, Toru could also love a child that was not his own by blood.

Toru pulled away enough to see her face, he waited until she finally looked into his eyes and he smiled. “Yes, I will still want you even if this child is not mine. I will love them just as if they were my own.”

Y/n smiled, her shoulders relaxing as if his response had blown all the anxiety that burdened her. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to…”

A lingering, unidentified fear gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers.

“If…” he took a deep breath. “If this child is not mine and is… his… what – what will you do?”

Please don’t say you’ll go back to him, he repeated over in his head.

“Woojin and I have agreed to go our ways a few weeks back and I have contemplated on either telling him or not.” Her face bore the unmistakable mark of guilt. “If this child is his, I know I should not keep it away from Woojin.”

“No, you should not,” Toru concurred, though inwardly he wished she wouldn’t have to confront that man. Yet, he acknowledged that Woojin deserved to be informed about the pregnancy and the child; he deserved to be included in the journey even if he and Y/n had no preexisting relationship. “I encourage you to tell him. If he decides not to be involved in the baby’s life, then that’s his decision. You’ve given him a choice.”

Toru would have been at a loss if Lucia had concealed her pregnancy and the existence of Mateo from him. Despite the life-altering revelation, being a father to Mateo brings Toru immense pride and joy, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He has no desire to return to his life before Mateo came into it.   

Y/n pressed her forehead against his. “If this child is Woojin’s, then we will have to figure out how to co-parent but it’ll be a bridge we’ll cross when we get there.”

The weighty burden he had carried for the past few hours finally lifted. “But regardless of what decision he chooses, I will be beside you.”

Y/n leaned to press her lips to his forehead, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve me because I deserve you. We deserve each other.”

.

Three weeks later, Y/n was scheduled for the testing.

Toru squeezed her hand, assuring her that everything would be okay. “The nurse said many have gone through this test and there is nothing to worry about, no risk to you or the baby.”

Y/n nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. “We’ll be okay.”

Sometime after they were separated, they reunited again. The same nurse who took Y/n away brought her back. As if sensing Toru’s presence, she looked up and smiled tiredly while sitting in a wheelchair. She reached a hand out to him, which he took and squeezed it lightly.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, “let’s go home.”

.

Toru gently pulled the covers up to her chin and carefully got off the bed without disturbing her.

Y/n groans, curling up into a fetal at the loss of his warmth. Once they reached home, she began experiencing cramping shortly after they got home. They were informed that cramping and light spotting was expected and normal. Toru wanted her to stay with him at his unit so he could monitor her.

He swallowed hard, despising the sensation of helplessness and his inability to alleviate her pain. Plating a gentle and light kiss on her forehead, he allowed her to rest while he stepped away to make a brief phone call to his mom to check on Mateo.

“Hey mom,” he greeted quietly over the phone, “how is Teo?”

When Toru and Y/n had dropped him off with his grandma, Mateo displayed signs of distress. He appeared apprehensive in the unfamiliar surroundings, clinging tightly to Toru. When his grandma attempted to reach for him, Mateo recoiled, refusing to go to her – a behavior that shocked both Toru and Y/n, as he had never exhibited hostility before.

They had to ease him in and get him comfortable before leaving him for a few hours.

“Teo is just like you. The moment you and Y/n disappeared and he noticed it, he looked everywhere for you two.” His mom explained, “you were just like that when you were a baby. But how is Y/n? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay, she is resting,” he felt slightly guilty for not telling the truth to his mom about Y/n’s appointment, only saying she was not feeling good and he was going to take her in. “I’ll be there soon to pick up –“ Toru loses the rest of his words as he turns his head towards his unit door. “Mom, I’ll call you back in a second.”

Walking towards his door, he pressed the button to turn on the camera outside his unit.

His eyes narrowed when he saw someone standing at Y/n’s door, ringing her doorbell and knocking repeatedly on her door.

“Y/n!”

Opening the door, he faces the man head-on. “Can I help you?”

Woojin wiped around, his disheveled hair and ruffled clothing told Toru something didn’t feel right.

“Y/n, where is she?”

Stepping out and closing his door behind him, Toru stood tall, “she is resting.”

Woojin marched across the lobby and grabbed Toru by his collar. “You bastard, is she in there with you?”

Toru emitted a bitter chuckle, “it is none of your business if she is with me, you guys are nothing.”

Woojin shoved Toru against his door, growling, “it is my business when she is my woman and carrying my child.”

Toru’s smile dimmed as his eyes narrowed, and then he shoved him away. “Leave before I have security kick you off the premises and banned.”

Running a hand through his messy hair, Woojin chuckled coldly. “You know it too, is that right?” His silence confirms his assumption. “I will not back down – “

“Toru?”

The two men turned their heads as the door slowly opened revealing a pale Y/n who gripped her abdomen. “Toru?” Her voice shook, “some – something doesn’t feel right…” her legs trembled as she looked down at her feet, her white ankle socks soaked with redness.

. . .

E/n: I know... I know :(

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @rukia-uchia-98 @anejuuuuoy @tooruchiiscribs @mommyourcall420 @haikyuubiggestsimp @lilguycoded @random-734 @ghostlyneckoaftoad @abcde12345 @shotenvinsoot @princess-sunshyn @anonymoussimper @junglewoos @basically-an-anime-stan-acct @mih311 @m1nt-3lla @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whatamidoing89 @ssc7514 @lupita97lm @ushygushybaby

[edoro]

OC characterization: 3, 12, 14, 15, foooor... Jackson!

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC? - well, i don't know if it's "irrational" exactly but he has some pretty intense sensory issues so certain noises will just make him SO upset. cannot stand being in the same room as other people who are eating because the sound of chewing or cutlery clinking/scraping on plates makes him want to commit murder and/or cry.

Jackson tends to get easily annoyed but also gets over it pretty quickly... he'll sulk for a few minutes and then be fine. things happening unexpectedly or mild disappointments can upset him a lot, like finding out he's unexpectedly out of his favorite cereal or something like that...

also, when he acquires his beautiful kitty Cheesecake, he WILL demand that people greet her, and he WILL get mad if they ignore her when they walk past her or she comes into the room.

also a lot of times the degree to which Laurence insists on Following The Rules Because They Are The Rules drives him up the wall. he needs things to make sense, and a lot of the stuff Laurence insists is important just does not make sense to him.

12. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors? - everything about Jackson is confusing to people who don't know him lmao. he's never seen outside without the wrap-around mirrored shades of a celebrity trying to avoid the paparazzi. his gender is ??? and his presentation ranges from "androgynous pajama casual" to "sugar baby being taken on a date to a black tie event" with no apparent rhyme or reason. his response to being spoken to by strangers is to either stare in wide-eyed silence or to immediately begin enthusiastically rambling about whatever topic happens to be on his mind at the moment and he has little to no concept of "conversational norms."

he doesn't interact much with the neighbors except for accompanying Max on his hikes and walks to reduce the chances of someone calling the cops on him for WWB, however he DOES have a number of habits that concern his partners/roommates, such as:

-creeping around in the middle of the night with all the lights off (he sees very well in the dark) to sneak food

-hiding in spaces like under the bed, in the closet, or under the coffee table to chill out and accidentally (or sometimes on purpose) jumpscaring people

-taking care of any and all illnesses or injuries on his own or with his twin's help

14. What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for? - lol. lmao.

uhhh pretty much literally everything, starting with "why did you even decide to have us in the first place?" and going from there. Laurence and Jackson were born to a single trans father who went to some length and expense to get pregnant with them using a sperm bank, and he proceeded to raise them both in the most insane way possible, keeping them incredibly isolated and trying to mold them both into his personal little ideal doll children based on his whack-a-doodle gender norms.

Jackson would especially personally like to know why he was the target of so much more outright physical violence than Laurence was, and why their dad just seemed to never really like him from the start. they were both horrifically abused, but Jackson's abuse included a degree of open sadism that was much more subtle in Laurence's, and he still doesn't really understand why he was singled out that way in particular.

also, he does NOT get why their dad divided up the chores the way he did. it seems so arbitrary! and even when Laurence (pre-coming out) WANTED to do 'boy chores', their dad wouldn't let him! absolute bullshit!

he just really wants an explanation for like... his entire life.

15. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been? - oh SUPER often. Jackson dissociates a ton, at times severely enough that he'll lose hours-long chunks of time.

the biggest problem, for the most part, is that he'll spend a while doing things and then just not remember what he did during that time, which freaks him out. sometimes he'll just kind of end up sleeping or doing nothing all day, just sort of sitting and staring or wandering vaguely around.

he's also gotten VERY lost trying to do things like go to the store or go outside on his own, where he forgets what he's doing or where he's going or why he's there or where he is and gets turned around and confused. it makes it hard for him to hold conversations because he can't remember what people just said or what he was going to say, and often struggles to really verbalize his thoughts at all (or even HAVE thoughts.)

he's hurt himself doing stuff around the house because he forgot he was holding something sharp or touched something hot or things like that. on occasion he's burned food or left a burner on or things like that, which used to get him punished when he and Laurence lived with their dad.

his memory of his own life up until his dad died and he and Laurence moved in with Max and Emmy is really fragmented and spotty. there's a lot of stuff he just doesn't remember at all, including some specific things that happened to him while Laurence was away at college that kind of suddenly come back after a couple of years which are pretty hard for him to process and deal with.

he needs a lot of reminders about what to do/house rules/where people are/what their routines are, and he often ends up leaving himself notes to tell himself what he was doing because otherwise he'll forget later. he also often will forget that someone left and need to be reassured that it's okay and they're coming back.

[tenebriism]

One of the perks of rising with the sun itself came with not disturbing his hardworking husband when he desperately needed sleep and their infant needed attention. Before the rest of the world was awake, Gladio shushed two screaming fits, changed a diaper and got coffee going and ready for an in bed delivery.

Baby on his hip, he brings the coffee to Ignis' side of the bed and shifts back in under the blanket, while someone who was just discovering they had hands put their tiny one right smack on their other parent's cheek. "Yeah, go ahead." He looks toward the clock, a respectable eight AM. "You get to wake Daddy up now. Any longer and we'd hafta check if he's hibernating like a great big bear." Funny, Considering who was talking.

If someone had told him he would be living this sort of life back then, he'd have called them DELIRIOUS and, perhaps, even laughed. There hadn't been TIME for pursuits of the heart back then, from childhood up until their tireless efforts to restore the kingdom and the light. beyond that, exploration of certain . . . PREFERENCES of his were hardly encouraged, and with his heart yearning so painfully for something -- rather, someONE -- he assumed he could never have, precious years of potential happiness had been relinquished in favor of being as PERFECT at his job as possible.

Thus, when marriage, and then, talk of a FAMILY had arisen, he'd begun to think he'd been transported to another world . . . mayhap, placed into another person's shoes. That this was not Ignis Scientia's--- no, Ignis Stupeo Scientia Amicitia's life, but someone less weighed down by overwhelming expectations and trauma. From waging war with the rivaling Niflheim, to opening up a Pandora's box of issues that expanded beyond political rivalries . . . when, and how, would he have managed it ? Yet, here he lay, dragged from the depths of sleep by a tiny palm that held more strength within in than any infant should. She gets it from her father, for sure--- the OTHER one, who was allowing this adorable assault.

" H u h ? " Though he cannot see beyond the dim light of the room and the terribly blurred figures afront him, he knows, immediately, who it is. The giggles were telling enough, which he ENCOURAGES with playful noises of faux pain as their sweet daughter continued to smack her palm to his cheek. " Good morning, my dearest . . . " he whispers affectionately, finally pulling himself up into a sitting position to properly greet the day. The scent of coffee at his bedside hits strong--- delightfully routine, at this point, thanks to his husband, whom he leans towards in search of a kiss. Better, he has learned over his years of limited eyesight, that Gladio come to HIM for these things, lest they bump foreheads and send their daughter into a louder fit of giggles, and eventually, he would reach out to pull her into his arms, where she would receive just as much, if not MORE affection.

" Up earlier than me once more, I see ? " Comes an affectionate whisper, now towards his life partner. If anyone could wake up earlier than Ignis and still be functional, it was Gladio, and goodness, did it come in handy on the days he needed just a few extra minutes of rest. Having to use the senses that remained after the loss of his eyesight had become much easier, especially after they'd retired and settled down, but it still took more energy compared to when he'd still been able to see. Beyond that, they're getting OLDER now . . . graying, if his sister's jokes are anything to go by ( even though she, too, has voiced a complaint about her hair beginning to lose its sunshiny luster. ) It isn't as easy keeping UP with everything, but . . . he wouldn't give it up for the world or more.

As their daughter curls her tiny fingers into the collar of his silk pajama shirt, Ignis beams over in Gladio's direction. " Plans for today ? " They could do that now . . . PLAN things that didn't involve work. Cute little outings to the bakery or the library just to sit and talk for hours on end, a visit to Charlotte and Atlas or Iris, even just a simple roadtrip to feel the rush of a breeze against their faces. Time for THEMSELVES that they couldn't make for what felt like most of their lives, up until now. " I was thinking we may visit my sister and see how she is doing. With the arrival of our son imminent, I would like to ensure she will not have another of her weekly breakdowns. " Thank goodness she had Iris, who had been through this once before with their daughter, for support where Gladio and Ignis could not provide it. He's certain she would have long since lost her mind otherwise. " --- and then, a trip to the bookstore for a few more baby books. I do believe the little one is getting tired of our current selection and--- ah! Are we still low on coffee, or have you already addressed that matter ? "

Regardless, he was looking forward to the day, made evident by the lighter tone in his voice, and the way he sank against Gladio, with the aforementioned ' little one ' bundled securely within his arms.

Bliss. True, well deserved bliss.

@strictomiles ;; ♥

[finelinevogue]

Harry would be like your being a brat missy because she's stubborn and all that. She wouldn't let Harry pamper her from their early stages of their relationship hell probably wrap her in a blanket and call her shawarma wrap ✌️😔 then poke the sides and tell her she'll eat her later LMAOOOO

oh this is so cuttteeeee! here's a tiny welcome back blurb:

July 3rd 2018

“You’re no fun.” Harry whined. 

“And you’re a man-child.” You argued back. 

You’d only been dating for a few weeks, but it felt like you had been a married couple of forty years. It was just so easy between the two of you. You got along so well that some people were genuinely jealous.

Gemma was talking to Harry a few days ago, which Harry then told you, about how people would come up to her at the end of your nights out and complain that you and Harry were too in love - to the point where you needed to tone it down because it was making other peoples relationships look menial in comparison. 

You and Harry just had a relationship like no other, because you understood each other. Or maybe it was because you were in love, but it was too early to say. 

Harry was currently trying to pamper you after a hard day with editing. Your Sunday’s were reserved for editing so that your content would be ready for the week. The whole day you had been sitting at your desk, typing away at your desk with little to no breaks and now Harry was trying to distract you for the evening. He was worried you were overworking and that you’d give yourself bad burnout. 

“All I’m asking is that you come shower with me.” He said, sitting on the edge of your bed patiently. 

You’d not moved in with each other yet, but the amount of time you spent with each other you might as well be. The topic of moving in with each other hadn’t arisen yet, but when it did you were more than happy to say a big yes. 

“And I need to edit this video.” 

“When are you uploading it?” 

You rolled your eyes, preempting his reaction. “It’s my monthly what i’ve read video.” 

“So it’s for uploading at the end of the month?” He asked. 

“Yes.” 

“And it’s currently the 3rd.” 

“Okay.” 

“Nope. That’s it.” 

Before you could ask what was up, he had swivelled your chair around and picked you up from underneath. 

“Harry! Oh my God, H!” You laughed but also screamed, latching onto him as he manhandled you across the room and onto your bed. 

He threw you down on top of the bed and before you could escape, rolled you over, as well as your duvet, so that you were burrito rolled up. Your head was the only part of you that was visible. You tried moving your arms but they were tucked tightly to your sides. You continued to laugh as Harry kept you steady. 

“Woah, woah. Careful.” He said with a hint of concern when you nearly tipped yourself over the edge of the bed.

“I don’t even think it would hurt if I fell I’m that bundled up.” You chuckled, thanking him for pulling you away from the edge. He climbed on top of you so he was straddling himself over your stomach. 

“Y’look fucking adorable right now.” 

“I feel like I’ve been mummified.”

Harry laughed at your comment, before taking out his phone and snapping a few funny photos of you. You didn’t even bother posing, knowing Harry would only take good photos of you anyways - it was his superpower. He even put his ringed hand on your cheek at one point and caught a photo of you kissing his palm. He immediately set it as his lock screen.

“Ever had a shawarma wrap?” He asked you, putting his phone to the side.

“Yeah?”

“Y’look like one sexy shawarma wrap, right now.” He said and it made you giggle. Then he leaned down and started kissing away at your exposed cheeks, lips and neck.

“Harry stop!” You laughed away, not being able to control the giggles.

“Nope. Gotta eat y’up now.” He bit his teeth playfully against your jawline and then kissed over the spot, softly, afterwards. “Can’t believe I’m falling in love with a little shawarma wrap.”

[spencerreidsconverse]

Bets With a Vegas Boy

summary: When Spencer and Reader make a bet with high stakes, their stubborn sides show, but when a consulting officer has his eyes on reader, Spencer has to step in.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: SMUT (breeding kink, daddy kink, a bit of degradation, semipublic sex,) unrequited flirting, criminal minds style violence, suggested cannibalism, reader has multiple tattoos

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: This took me forever to finish as I was on vacation! I hope you all enjoy it!

“Y/N, have you ever met Reid? You’re supposed to be smart, why would you willingly sign up for this?” You scoffed at JJ’s words. When Penelope Garcia is involved it seems that no news traveled slowly, proven by the entire BAU’s new knowledge of the bet you had made with boy genius after bickering about which of you was more clingy. “JJ, you really underestimate me that much?” She shook her head in disbelief “You know that’s not it, but come on Y/N! Seriously, he’s banned from every casino in Vegas! Why would you bet against that?” “JJ, he was banned because he can count cards. It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack for christ’s sake!” She weighed the idea for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay that’s true, but still. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. I seriously hope whatever he has in mind for your forfeit isn’t as bad as yours.” You laughed, imaging Spencer in the predicament you were positive he would be in the thick of by the end of the week.

“I think he’d look good with one, you don’t agree?” JJ rolled her eyes as you both made your way out of the elevator towards the glass doors. “That’s not my point Y/N, don’t you think it’s a little harsh? I mean he’s not like you, how do you know he’d even want one?” You smirked, remembering the first time you’d met Dr. Spencer Reid. You had been brought on to the team a few short years ago after an implemented policy that required an even amount of field agents so there were partners for every investigation. You thought it was a bit condescending, requiring the most brilliant minds in the nation to follow the buddy system, but it gave you a job and for that you were thankful. It had its perks though, one of which being your immediate pairing with Reid. You were as young as him and not far behind in brilliance. What you lacked in eidetic memory and forgein language fluency, you more than made up for in marksmanship and street smarts. You and Reid got along fine, even if it was a bit tense at first. He was thoroughly convinced he didn’t need a babysitter.

“I’m a grown man! Why would I need to be watched every second of the day? The last thing we need is a liability.” you remembered the words like it was yesterday. You had been approaching him from behind, and overheard his rant. “Well, technically since we’re the same age, I’d hardly consider myself a babysitter. Would you trust your child’s care with someone their age?” Spencer had turned himself around so fast he’d almost fallen off the desk he was perched atop. “Y-you must be Agent Y/N! It’s uh nice to meet you?” He cringed at the tone of his voice, and you burst out with giggles before shaking your head. “Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I understand it must be a difficult situation for you. I mean, if I were the resident genius I wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of being shown up either.” The dark-skinned woman who had previously been engaging him in his sour mood let out a surprised chuckle and you watched his face turn from embarrassment to shock and finally settle on disbelief. “Wh- Excuse me?” You felt your stomach begin to cramp as his reaction made you laugh further and you clutched your files against your chest. You fought to catch your breath for a few seconds before regaining your composure. “Excuse my reaction, Dr. Reid but I couldn’t resist. No hard feelings?” He nodded mutely and you saw a soft smile crack through his mock stern expression. You turned to introduce yourself to the woman next to him, Tara Lewis. You made small talk for a few more minutes while Reid scribbled away at his desk before Emily called all of you to the round table with a case.

Nerves had struck you then, and you stood frozen instead of joining Tara in her stride. “Y/N, everything okay?” You jumped slightly as you heard Reid’s voice from behind you. “Oh! Yes, sorry!” You moved out of his way, trying your best not to stumble over an empty desk and failing miserably. He stretched his hands out and caught you, much to your embarrassment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling ill?” You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I'm fine, really.” He looked into your eyes and you tried to ignore the sparks you felt deep in your chest. “Y/N you’re working with profilers now, lying that poorly will never work around here.” His joke succeeded in its attempt to lighten the mood and you let out a soft laugh despite your anxiety. “I’m just a little nervous I guess. I didn’t expect to have a case so soon.” He nodded and his thumb absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on your sleeve. “I understand. We all felt that way at first. I won’t say it’s easy, but we’re all here to support you. Take a few deep breaths.” You did as he instructed and you felt your nerves ease as he consoled you. “That’s better. Besides, what could you have to worry about? You have the best partner here.” You laughed, and he released your arm. “I’ll meet you in there.” and with that he left you standing there trying to lock down the feelings he had just arisen in you. “Nice Y/N, crush on your partner first thing. What a great start.” you muttered to yourself

A few moments later you joined the rest of the team at the table and quickly reviewed the case, before lifting off 45 minutes later to a small town in Georgia. Everything felt like a whirlwind and you did your best to keep up. True to what Spencer had said, the team helped you get your bearings and by the end of the night you were making great strides along with the rest of them. It was near midnight when Emily dismissed you all to the hotel a few blocks away to get a few hours of rest. You were thankful, having poorly attempted to drown your tiredness with watery coffee from the small pot at the station, and you made your way to the hotel as swiftly as you could manage. When you were all gathered in the lobby, Emily handed out the keycards and it quickly dawned on you how the room assignments would work. You tried to shake off the thought and prayed that the night would go quickly. It made sense to just put the partners together, it made keeping track of everyone easier and allowed for quick communication between the team. You told yourself all the reasons it was logical as you made your way up to your room.

Spencer left you to your thoughts, but he could see how hard you were focusing. He unlocked the door and the lights switched on as you both made your way towards your beds. You heard him ask you something, and turned awkwardly to face him “Sorry, what’d you say?” He looked at you, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I asked if you wanted to shower first. Are you okay?” “Oh! Yeah, thanks. I’m okay, just thinking about the case.” You hoped you had lied better this time and were relieved that he seemed to buy it. “Just try to shut your mind off of it for now, I know it’s hard. Trust me, you’ll feel much better when you’re refreshed.” You nodded at his words and pulled some pajamas out of your go-bag. “Thanks Spencer. I’ll try not to take too long.” He shrugged you off “No worries, take your time.” You shut yourself behind the door and tried to shake the feelings out of your head. “Get a grip Y/N. You’re being crazy.” You scolded yourself before showering. You hurried despite Spencer’s insistence and quickly made your way out of the shower to dry yourself off. You applied lotion to your ink-covered skin and slipped on your shorts and t-shirt before drying your hair as fast as you could and making your way out of the bathroom. You dropped your folded clothes on top of your bag, alerting Spencer that you were done.

“That was fast, you really didn’t have to-” his words died in his throat as he looked up from the file in his lap and caught sight of your legs, covered in the intricate artwork that stretched across the skin. You tried to ignore his watchful gaze. “It’s no problem! I wanted to save you some hot water.” He thanked you quietly and made his way to the bathroom hurriedly, trying not to look at you again. You tried to fall asleep but you couldn’t get him out of your head. A few more minutes passed and he made his way over to his bed, trying to will the awkward tension out of the room. You both eventually managed to fall asleep without speaking another word.

The tension continued to grow over the next few months and the rest of the team were getting sick of watching you two dance around each other. You both denied any advances, shot down the chance to go out on any of the numerous blind dates members of the team offered to set up, and chose instead to trade glances across the bullpen and divulge your personal lives over breakroom lunches. Eventually, they made plans for a team outing and convinced you both to attend. Penelope made reservations at a nice restaurant, announcing that everyone just had to try their food. That night however, you showed up to Spencer waiting awkwardly at a table for two in the back corner with a sour face. “Where’s the rest of the team?” You asked him, taking the seat across from him. “Apparently they’ve all had to cancel. Luckily, the reservation was for two.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and you made a mental note to scold Garcia. “Well, since we’re here I’m happy to eat. I’m starving.” Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, agreeing with you.  After an evening of great food and better wine, the rest was history, and you found yourself thanking Garcia the next day instead. You and Spencer had been dating for just over two years now, though he’d be able to count it down to the second you’d showed up looking angelic at the restaurant that night. You both complimented each other perfectly and you had a relationship stronger than either of you could have dreamed of.

“Hello?? Y/N are you even listening to me?” JJ’s words and nudge against your shoulder brought you back to present day and you snapped your eyes back to her face. “Yes! Sorry JJ I was just thinking��� Anyways, we’ve talked about it before. He loves all of mine, and he’s talked about getting one. He’s just afraid of the pain, and too indecisive to choose what he wants.” You blushed softly as you thought about the many nights spent in your shared bed, Spencer tracing the black lines with his fingertips. He adored them and thought they made you especially unique, not to mention he found them extremely sexy. He favored the black sun on your ribcage, shaded to perfection. Even when you were clothed he would run his hand along the fabric that covered the piece.

“Well still, if you do happen to win, I can’t imagine he’ll go along with it.” You smirked and shook your head. “We’ll see about that JJ.” You both sat at your desks, and began to work through your piles of paperwork. You were thankful there was no case that needed your immediate attention, but paperwork always made you feel like a nap by the time lunch came around. You pushed yourself away from your desk, and stood to find yourself nearly chest to chest with your boyfriend who had stood at the same time. “Oh, sorry Spence. I just need coffee.” You maneuvered your way around him, missing the way he would usually grab your hips to aid you. He followed you to the break room and you poured him a cup as well leaving plenty of room for sugar. Instead of handing it to him with a quick peck on the cheek however, you left it on the counter to be picked up. “You really think you can go a week without touching me?” You heard his voice from the doorway. “It’s already been 3 days.” You said uninterestedly with a shrug, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Okay fine, no. I just think I can go longer than you can.” You finally admitted, smirking back at him.

He grabbed the mug from the counter, adding several teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. “We’ll see about that. You’re the one that’s always curling yourself around me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh yeah, like you hate it. You’re the one that’s always rubbing my back and holding my hand under tables. Even when we’re on the metro home you’ve got your hand in mine.” He narrowed his eyes at you and stuck his tongue out, making you chuckle. “Very mature Dr. Reid. I can’t wait to win.” He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Luke who stuck his head in to alert you both of the new case you’d be working. You let out a long sigh. “So much for paperwork.” The three of you made your way to the round table and sat, Spencer curling his hand into a fist to keep himself from subconsciously reaching over to place his hand on your leg.

“So, we are assisting in a local case this time, with Washington state PD about a string of murders in the homeless community. However, there’s been hefty construction in their field office so they will be joining us here.” Penelope quickly took the lead after Emily’s announcement and filled you all in about the details. She ran through the few details the local PD managed to uncover on their own and the team had only managed a few minutes of brainstorming when a group of police officers made their way through the glass doors of the BAU. There were only a handful of officers which surprised all of you, and Emily led the rest of you out of the conference room, beelining her way to the chief. “Hello, Landon. It’s nice to see you again.” She shook his hand briefly. “Likewise Emily, though I wish it was under different circumstances.” “As do I. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, I was under the impression that your entire force would be joining us. Is that not the case?” The chief, Landon Bridges you now knew him as, shook his head. “We knew you had a pretty tight space and we have a lot of members. I brought a few people from each department and figured it’d be easiest to fill everyone else in periodically. We didn’t want to overflow your space and leave no room to work.” Emily nodded and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, thank you. This is the rest of my team. SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alves, Matt Simmons, David Rossi, Y/N Y/L/N, Drs Spencer Reid and Tara Lewis, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You all gestured as Emily quickly introduced you, and a short time later you were all acquainted and working throughout the bullpen. You and Spencer were just beginning to start the geographical profile when one of the Washington police officers, Kline, made his way over to you. “Pardon me agents, do you need any help?” You looked up from your section of the grid lines and smiled at him which he returned brightly, but before you could answer, Spencer dismissed him. Kline’s face fell slightly but he nodded and made his way over to where Tara and Luke were reviewing the last known areas of the victims.

You turned and stared at Spencer in disbelief. He looked up after a few seconds, feeling your eyes burning a hole through the top of his head. “Yes?” You glared at him harder, before railing into him in a hushed tone “Don’t ‘yes?’ me. That was insanely rude. They’re here to help us! Quit acting all high and mighty.” He stared back at you and you saw the stubbornness light up his eyes. “Why should I? We could solve this case twice as fast without them getting in the way.” He knew he was talking too loud, and was more than aware of Kline who was staring at his back with  a sour look resting on his face. “Spencer! I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. You’re being an ass.” He rolled his eyes and you both let out a sigh before looking back down at the maps covering the desktop beneath you.

A few hours passed before you and Spencer finished the geographical profile, and you gestured Kline over to ask him a few questions about the area you’d narrowed down. Spencer noticed he had made his way to your side and bit his lip to keep himself silent. “Officer Kline, can you tell me anything about this area of the block? It seems like a lot of our victims were last seen in this area.” He eyed the map where red ink stained the paper and pondered for a few seconds. “Well, there’s not much out there really. A few older shops and some construction to the east” he gestured to the empty spot of land on the map “but nothing of real interest. We don’t usually get calls for the homeless population over here either. There’s not really much shelter so they don’t usually go towards this way” Your brow furrowed and you nodded, thanking him but before he could get another word in Spencer piped up. “Kline, if the homeless population doesn’t “Go that way” he mocked the officer in front of you, and Kline tensed up in response “then why are they all disappearing from the area? Does that make sense to you?”

Kline struggled to respond and you glared at Spencer before assuring Kline there was no need for him to pay Spencer any mind, excusing his behavior with a rambling about late nights and too little coffee. Kline walked away and you stared Spencer down for several seconds before making your way towards the main group to deliver the geographic profile, leaving Spencer to sulk. You continued to avoid Spencer until you were sent out to investigate the block you sectioned off with Emily and JJ. You opted to drive which left Spencer in the passenger seat, fuming at your silent treatment and JJ and Emily trying to fight the tension in the SUV to no avail.

You parked the SUV a few blocks away and the four of you walked the rest of the way to avoid raising too much suspicion. You were standing in the center of the unsubs hot zone when you noticed a line of people clustered in front of one of the more rundown buildings. The building had wide front windows that had been taped over with brown paper, as well as the glass doors. You and Spencer approached the group warily, trying to get closer to see the poorly written signs on the door.

“DISCOUNT MEAT - PRE-COOKED”

“12pm-12am”

You gestured Emily and JJ over and the four of you quickly aimed to disperse the crowd much to their displeasure. After several minutes of arguing and multiple badge flashes you managed to succeed and stood outside the door ready to investigate once the owner opened his doors. Fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of movement from the inside and Spencer began to shift anxiously, causing you to do the same. A few more seconds passed and you heard the locks on the door click, reaching your hand around to rest on your holster automatically. As soon as the door opened, Emily pushed through holding her badge and announcing the reason for your investigation.

The shop owner immediately demanded you leave and not return unless you had a warrant. “Actually, because this is no longer a registered business it becomes property of the town and therefore is subject to any kind of local or national investigation under Property law 14, sections 3a-3f go more in depth about the issue if you feel the need to verify.” Spencer explained the situation while sifting through the counter drawers, leaving the man to sit in silent rage while Emily and JJ questioned him. You bent over to fiddle with a padlock on a hollowed bench seat on the far wall and pulled one of the pins out of your hair to pick it. A few seconds of tampering later, the lock gave way with a satisfying click and you pulled the bench open. A rancid smell hit your nose and stomach before you could process what you were seeing. Body parts were wrapped in butcher's paper and poorly taped, and you fought to keep your breakfast down as you slammed the bench shut. Emily then stood the man up and cuffed him, while reciting the miranda rights. JJ followed her out and you followed her quickly, trying and failing to erase the memory from your mind.

Back at the office, the rest of the team and several of the officers had already begun processing the unsubs case and there was little left to be done by the time you returned. You filled out your files and quickly wrote out your account of the incident before heading to the breakroom for a cup of coffee. You pulled your mug down from the shelf and pressed your favorite individual pod into the machine and pressed the button to let it run. You were digging in the fridge for your creamer when a deep voice startled you

“Little late for coffee isn’t it?” You turned swiftly to find Kline standing in the doorway and you let out a small sigh. “When you work like we do, it’s never too late for coffee” You smiled and made your cup to your taste, taking a long sip. You expected Kline to just grab what he wanted and leave, but instead he continued to make awkward conversation despite you going so far as to begin scrolling through your phone. “So, that Spencer guy is really a piece of work huh?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead remained focused on your screen, telling yourself that he just didn’t get the chance to see the good side of Spencer like everyone else there had. “He’s really not a bad guy, he’s just had a long day. We all have.” Kline nodded but moved closer to you, so close that you could smell his headache-inducing cologne. “I’m just saying, if I had the opportunity to work with you every day, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with you. I’d treat you right.”

You shifted uncomfortably, praying he would pick up on your uneasiness and back off but instead he moved to corner you against the counter. You tried to excuse yourself but your voice caught in your throat.

“Kline, I really overestimated you. I figured even a man as dimwitted as yourself would be able to tell when a woman isn’t interested but here we are.” Your head snapped up towards the doorway where Spencer was standing. Kline turned around and prepared himself to tell your boyfriend off when he froze. Spencer had the look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and made it very aware to Kline that there was no use fighting. He quickly left the room and you and Spencer held eye contact for several seconds before he spoke again “Meet me in the storage room at the end of the hall in 2 minutes.” His voice made your legs feel weak and you nodded, dumping the contents of your mug down the drain, keeping your pace in check as you slipped into the hallway.

You had barely unlatched the door when Spencer pushed it the rest of the way open and you felt yourself being dragged into the dimly lit space. You barely had time to let out a surprised squeak when you felt his lips against your throat, turning your noise into one of pleasure. His kisses quickly turned sharp, applying the expertly rehearsed amount of pressure to avoid marks but to still send shockwaves of heat to your core. “Spence” his name left your lips in a whine while he busied himself unbuttoning your blouse. “Spencer, you just lost the bet.” You felt a smirk grow across your face that disappeared as he hiked your skirt up to your hips while rubbing your clit through your panties. “Fuck the bet, Y/N. I’m sick of seeing you walk around here clueless. You know I’ve been all over Kline’s ass, little girl?” His voice dropped lower and he lifted you up to push you against the wall. “It’s because he couldn’t stop looking at yours.” You let out a moan as he pushed your panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Did me getting all protective of you turn you on? You like making daddy jealous?” You shook your head as well as you could manage, trying to keep your volume in check. “Answer me pet, or you’re not gonna get daddy’s cock in you like I know you’re desperate for.” You whimpered at his words  “No! I-I wasn’t trying to make you jealous daddy I swear!” You stuttered as he began to spread you further with his fingers. He smiled against the exposed skin of your chest before removing his fingers. “That’s my good girl. You ready for daddy?” You nodded as he fiddled with his belt buckle, moaning in anticipation as he released his cock from his slacks. You bit your lip as he ran the tip over your folds, sucking in a harsh breath as he pushed himself deep inside you. He let you adjust for a moment while he sucked at your neck again. “Daddy, please move. Please, I need you.” He let his hips move, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming you forward into the wall again. You let out a moan as he thrusted in and out of you. You felt like your skin was on fire, the lack of touch over the past days made everything more intense.

A few more minutes passed and you felt yourself growing dangerously close to the edge. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you felt his pace grow even more rapid and he circled your clit with his thumb. “I’m gonna cum inside you angel. I’m gonna fill you up with my kid. You want that huh? Want everyone to know that you belong to me, don’t you?” You moaned at his words “God yes, please daddy. Please cum inside me!” You felt his hips stutter under you and a familiar warmth as you finally climaxed. Your toes curled and your head fell back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“God Y/N that was amazing.” You let out a soft whimper as he pulled out of you and lowered you back down to your feet. He kissed you, pulling you closer than before. “I love you Spencer. Only you.” He touched the tip of his nose to yours and returned your words, while you both caught your breath. A few minutes later you both exited the closet, and tried to smoothly make your way back to your desks. Washington PD had finished the bureau required paperwork and had already left so things were much quieter.

You had just sat down when JJ looked up from her computer. “So Spence, whatcha gonna get?” His head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-What?” he managed to stutter out. “From the diner? Garcia said she would run out and get dinner.” You both let out simultaneous sighs of relief and told her what you wanted, settling in for a long night.

The next weekend you had free, you found yourselves in one of your favorite spots. The low pitched buzzing added to Spencer’s anxiety as he tried to divert his focus to the bright neon signs. You held his hand, stroking it with your thumb as you waited for your tattoo artist and best friend, Vannessa, to finish Spencer’s design. You tried to distract him but before long she called you back to the table and you heard his breathing quicken. You helped him get settled on the table while Vannessa applied the stencil. She adjusted it until Spencer and you both approved and then she started. Spencer tightened his grip on your hand as she traced the lines while you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. Half an hour later, she was running Spencer through the after care process while wrapping his forearm up. You paid her and made your way out of the shop after thanking her.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you watched as Spencer carefully maneuvered his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and resting his arm against the door. The streetlight shining through his window highlighted his forearm perfectly, revealing the perfectly mimicked shape of a shaded black sun.

[bukojuiice]

merry go round of life.

ೃ pairing: (magical prince! shoto todoroki x fem! reader)

ೃ  tags: howl’s moving castle au! studio ghibli au! 

ೃ warnings: slight angst, mention of endeavor and war.

ೃ part 1/2 of the howl’s moving castle au. 

ೃ word count: 3,807 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ as the tags and the au suggests, this fic is pretty much the premise of howl’s moving castle except shoto is a magical prince. i’m super excited to complete the rest of this studio ghibli au series and i hope you enjoy reading!  ♡

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!) ♡

“Find me in the future!”

The voice of a young woman who he didn’t recognize. Amongst the shooting stars and the demons falling from the night sky.

Tonight was the night.

The grassy plains and the meadows that were surrounding the warm cottage that he called home. The loving home that he, his mother, and his siblings lived in. The home that kept him away from the real world.

Things will never be the same ever again.

This was going to be easy right? All he needed to do was trade his heart for the demon’s power and he’d see his father again right?

He’d finally see the real world. The magical world that he always yearned for.

Being confined in a cottage all his life did leave much to be desired. He couldn’t just run around the lush fields with his older siblings and learn magic through spell books all his life, can he? There were things out there that he had to discover.

Now that his mother had passed, his siblings vanished into thin air, and a letter sent by his father, the tyrant king of the Kingdom of Ingary, detailing that he must learn magic on his twelfth year, in order to secure a position of royalty and rule the land with him.

This intimidating man he had never met all his life, except seeing him on newspapers and in history books, would suddenly write a letter to him out of the blue- it must be urgent right? Maybe, this was his calling? Maybe the passing of his mother is the reason the king, his father, contacted him in the first place? Did the most powerful man in the entire continent know about his whereabouts all along?

Was he living a lie all this time?

Shoto needed answers. The king’s invitation and this letter was his only clue.

But, before that, he needed to learn magic and sorcery first.

He was going to turn 12 in a few month’s time, how is he going to do this? He can’t just snap his fingers and manifest magic on the spot, right?

“A m-meteor shower? I-in a few months?” The handsome young boy with half-and-half colored hair and the prettiest heterochromatic eyes, whispered to himself in disbelief. “Take your chance and meet a fire and ice demon who will give you their magic.” He continues to read along the lines of the tabloid, grabbing a worn notebook on the table next to him, and writing down every piece of information that entailed the phenomenon that was about to come. “It doesn’t say when though.” He continues to whisper to himself, his shoulders dropping in defeat as if he had just hit a slump.

The only hope that he was holding on to right now was his luck guiding him on that fated day.

And it did guide him. At a cost.

The fire and ice demon who were to give him his magical quirks, weren’t all that he had seemed.

In exchange for his humanity, he was to become the most powerful and the only wizard prince in the entire world.

Several years have passed. 

The once lost boy, who is now a famed prince, was in search for something again.

The effect of the demon taking his heart had made him soulless. Lifeless.

 Clinging on to material things and fake temporary pleasures in life were the only things keeping him going. 

The once newly crowned prince had wanted to escape his hellish kingdom, in search for peace and solace, a feeling that he did not experience while living in such a wide and empty space and with an estranged father who knew nothing but war.

His skills of wizardry grew stronger and stronger, expanding to more than just fire and ice; the magic that Calcifer, the demon whom he had made a contract with, bestowed upon him all those years ago. He had collected enough knowledge and learned enough encantations to get him out of this castle, and travel the world by his own blissful means.

Calcifer, the oh so powerful yet surprisingly comical demon helped him with his plans.

And what better way of an escape than with a magical moving castle?

This led to Shoto and Calcifer coming to another agreement that the demon would power the castle as long as Shoto would find someone in this world that would break the contract between them.

The prince and the demon were able to escape the confines of the castle scotch-free, however, it was not long until King Enji realized that the heir and the next in line to the throne, disappeared without a trace. Immediately warranting a search party consisting of his most elite soldiers. This prompted Shoto to adopt different identities and aliases, changing his appearance in every other kingdom he visited and lived in so he wouldn’t be recognized. Along his journey, he took in a sweet orphaned young girl, named Eri who became his assistant and apprentice.

The king was growing impatient. It had been a few years and his men have not found a trace as to where the prince might have gone. 

He was running out of options.

He wanted Shoto to excel. To be powerful. He never ever planned to see him or even bothered to send a letter telling him that he was the son of the most powerful king in the land, if the boy did not have anything special about him.

The magical genes passed on to the younger Todoroki by his sorceress mother. That’s all that he wanted. Use him. Use him for his power. Make him a prince, raise him, and then throw him away if he was of no use anymore. His son’s magical prowess was all he needed for his quest to conquer the entire world.

The only option he had left was to choose violence.

The king called up his war council and declared war on the neighboring kingdom.

If nothing was going to bring Shoto back, then conflict will.

With the entire continent falling into shambles, kingdoms fighting each other left and right, the peace and the freedom Shoto Todoroki had always wanted to achieve had become short-lived.

 He knew he was the reason why a conflict had arisen in the first place, yet, he couldn’t help but fight his father’s forces behind the scenes, and continue to run away, still seeking for permanent liberty. For a permanent home.

 He found his home.

In a simple girl working in her family’s hat shop.

And finally, Shoto had something to live for and to fight for.

 “Calcifer!”

“Shoto’s heart! It’s MINE!”

“Please! Let go!” You struggle to fight your way through the igniting fire coming from Calcifer and the ember that was about to consume the Witch of the Waste. Her old and wrinkled hands clutching on Shoto’s heart as if her life depended on it.

The remains of the moving castle continue to crumble, as the only power that was keeping it alive which came from Calcifer had become unstable as the Witch of the Waste was holding Shoto’s heart.

 “Put it back now! Please!” You try to fight back your tears, still trying your best to remain kind to the old witch yet she did not budge.

“It’s hot! It’s hot!” She continues to ignore your pleas, reacting to the delicate burning material that was on her hands instead. The grip that she had on Shoto’s heart had grown tighter and tighter and you had to do something to stop her.

 Time was ticking.

You look around the rubble and the debris, weighing out your options when a bucket of water had appeared in front of you. It was as if telling you that this was the only decision left to make.

  You take a deep breath and throw the bucket of water at the Witch of the Waste which also resulted in Calcifer, the demon who has manifested into a form of a destructive inferno for thousands of years, had been put out  just like a regular old fire. 

Like it was nothing.

There was a short moment of silence.

Eri was clinging on to you, looking for reassurance your face, yet you could not give her that. You hold her tight to try and help cheer her up just a little bit, while Heen, the old service dog given to Shoto as a gift, had his paws on your feet, as he did not know what was going to happen either.

The castle that was still moving with its last remaining energy, grinds to a halt.  

Is this it?

“(Y/N)!” You hear Eri call out. You open your eyes and see her hands trying to reach out to you. But, before you could reach her, the remaining part of the castle that all of you were standing on, split into half due to the lack of non-existent energy powering it. 

You feel yourself falling.

Heen, the dog, jumps to you before the latter remains of the castle subsequently falls down the cliffs of the Waste. You brace for impact until… you feel light. As if you’ve landed more comfortably than you thought.

You raise your head to take in your surroundings, aside from the few dirt and rubble sprinkled on your hair and on your dress, you were safe. Heen was safe too although the debris that was left of the castle was not salvageable anymore and there were no means to get out of this place with the few materials left.

It looked like there was no way out of here.

Tears swell in your eyes. All these frustrations and all this pain you had to endure because you wanted to save Shoto, was all for naught. Was there still a chance to save him at this point? Or rather, did you even ever have the slightest chance of saving him since the beginning?

Heen quickly trots all the way to where you were. However, you ignore him and continue to stare off into space, thinking about the careless decision you had just made and if what you did was even the right thing.

He barks softly, trying to get your attention, but you barely move a muscle. Even more tears forming in your eyes.

“Heen.. what h-have I done?” Your voice shakes, still trying to process everything that had just happened. “I poured water on C-calcifer… What if I killed Shoto too!?” You bent forward, kneeling down on the rubble around you. Drops of water began to pour out from your eyes, tears streaming down from your cheeks.

Hopelessness and Uselessness.

These were the only emotions you were feeling right now.

You continue to break down in your sorrow. The thought of doing everything in your power to help Shoto but knowing that nothing was enough aches in your heart.

He doesn’t deserve all this pain and anguish.

All you wanted to do was to help him.

Why was fate doing this to you? To you both?

All hope was lost until a glimmering light reflected on the remains of one of the magical doors still connected to the Castle.

Heen continues to bark at you until you turn your head to him and then notice the light glimmering from your ring. The ring with magical properties that Shoto had given to you, to keep you safe and to help you when things go awry.

“It’s moving?” You wipe your tears and stare bewilderingly at the ring that was vibrating on your finger. “Is Shoto still alive!? Can you lead me to him?” You ask softly, slowly regaining your hope and your confidence that maybe you can still save him.

You stand up from the ground, running to the corner of the cliff. The ring continues to guide you, it’s light reflecting on a door that was hidden behind the debris of an iron sheet that was once a part of the castle.

You push it down with all your might, Heen trying his best to help you. The metal sheet falls down with a loud “thud” and the blue energy emanating from the ring continues to glow brighter and brighter, the light pointing to the direction of the door.

You turn the knob, the ring trembles even harder. You slowly pull the door open and a sudden rush of wind blew across your face. The inside was dark and empty. There was nothing of interest here.

But, why did the ring want you to go inside?

You hold your hand to your chest, letting the ring guide your way through the darkness. You stretch your hand out to the pitch black of nothingness, and it ripples at your touch. 

It was a portal. 

Of course it was a portal. What else would it be? You thought to yourself.

You take a deep breath and with Heen following close behind you, you take a step into the darkness. Praying that this portal takes you to where you need to be.

You were keeping count of the passage of time. It’s been several minutes of you just walking in darkness. But, even if you turned back, was there even a place to return to? You continue to hold on to the little hope you have left. The ring still doing it’s best to guide you to where it was telling you to go as you continue to explore the endless cave of darkness around you. 

The ring starts to quiver again, as if it had caught a signal or had detected something. You walk faster, following where the ring was leading you until you catch site of a speck of blue light. Walking even faster, you arrive at the inside of a dimly lit cottage. 

It was old and simple. For some reason, it felt like you’ve seen this place before. 

There was a table at the center, with papers and books sprawled about, a bookshelf next to it, a worn bed at the side, and a hearth near the edge of the room. 

You approach the table to examine the papers that were placed upon there when the ring suddenly stopped shaking on your finger. Heen was barking at you again, so that you would turn your attention to him and see him scratching the door that led to the outside. 

“Heen?” You mumble, looking out the window. You approach the door he was trying to open without taking your eyes off the windowpane that reflected a gloomy and plain image of the night sky outside. 

You leave the cottage and suddenly, it dawned on you that this was the cottage that Shoto had lived in when he was a child. 

This is the same beautiful place he had taken you a few days prior. Yet, there was a sort of melancholy feeling to it. It felt lonely, barren, and there were no colorful array of flowers in the meadows. It felt like a major downgrade to the wonderful place he had shown you. Was it not true? Were the beautiful flowers and the serene view just an illusion? Was this the reality of the place he had lived in most of his life instead?

Before you could even fully process your surroundings, an array of shooting stars began to fall from the sky. It was burning blue and bright, it was ethereal but at the same time, terrifying. These were demons and magical entities from an otherworldly universe. Seeking to make contracts with human beings who wanted to learn more about magic. 

“This is the time where Shoto met Calcifer.” You whisper to yourself, still looking up the bright night sky, taking in the beauty and the wistfulness of this particular event and what happened to Shoto because of it. 

You look out into the pools of water surrounding the cottage, the shooting stars falling down into the ground from afar. A shrieking yet soothing sound echoed around the area every time a star fell. 

You look up to see an unusual shooting star, shining brighter than the others. You continue to look on in awe until you feel the the ring on your hand quivering again, slowly disintegrating.

You were preoccupied with the ring suddenly disappearing that you had not noticed the big and bright star had already fallen down the ground near you, closer than the others did. The rays of the star reflecting brighter and more scintillating than the others. It was drawing you in, like that of a beautiful phantasm. 

You notice someone from afar approaching the star that had fallen. 

A young striking boy with half white and half red hair, his eyes shining bright different colored hues and his presence, even from afar, was so comforting to you.

This is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. The man you want to save, the one who made you feel like yourself again, the one who loved you for who you are even though you transformed into an 80 year old grandma with a back problem. He has loved you in your darkest times. He has loved you for who you are. 

Will you be there to love him back? Just like he had loved you? 

You continue to watch the boy go around the star, examining it ever so curiously. From there, you feel the emotions that Shoto was feeling at the moment.

You could sense the loneliness and the feeling of isolation that Shoto Todoroki has felt all his life. 

“That’s Shoto...” You whisper once again, continuing to watch him from where you were standing.

 More and more shooting stars fly through the night sky, and you instinctively knew that something was going to happen.

You run down the stairs and sprint your way towards Shoto, ignoring the stars  falling down into the ponds, taking forms of dancing wisps, then changing into running pigmy as if they were trying to reach Shoto. 

Shooting stars begin to fall around you, barely missing you yet you continued to run with no care in the world. Saving Shoto was the only thing going on in your head at the moment and nothing will stop you from doing so. Something in the grass had pulled on your heel, causing you to fall and flail on the ground. The half and half prince was a small pond away from you yet a dark oozing liquid was taking a hold of you from below, preventing you from doing so.

Before it fully took a hold of both your feet, You quickly stand up from the ground, stomping your feet then backing away quickly. Another shooting star falls down from the sky, and you watch as it swiftly falls into Shoto’s hands. 

The sound of the fallen star shrieks and tingles your ears, and you had no choice but to watch in agony as the little Shoto begins to move his lips, talking to the demon known as Calcifer. He had a small smile on his face as he continued to speak. There was so much hope and innocence in his eyes, he was so excited to receive his magical abilities, blissfully unaware that he was about to make a deal that would be the cost of his humanity and his heart. 

All he wanted was to see family and go to places he’s always dreamed of. 

Was that too much to ask for?

Shoto slowly but surely, brings the demon into his mouth. There was slight hesitance but he gobbled it up then swallowed it. He felt a tinging pain as he clutches both of his hands to his chest, then coughing up Calcifer who had now become his heart. 

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped. 

You continue to look on but before you could try and run to him again...

Your ring shatters. 

A black hole appears from below your feet, slowly sucking you in. You try to move but your body doesn’t want to. Keeping you still, your legs swinging, as if you were in a body of water. All the color around you begins to fade to black, and so does Shoto and Calcifer. 

You turn to look at them once more, hoping they would hear you. Reaching your hand out to them. 

“Shoto! Calcifer!” In a last minute attempt to get them to notice you, You shout with all your might, tears welling up in your eyes again. 

The boy and the demon turn to you with doe eyes, catching your voice yet barely recognizing who you were and why you were there. The young Shoto continues to look at you, still wondering who you were, cupping Calcifer in his hands. 

“It’s me (Y/N)! I know how to help you now!” Shoto and Calcifer ceaselessly fade away, as you are consumed by the darkness.

“Find me in the future!”

Mundane life and a mundane everyday routine.

 Sew some hats, manage the store, hop on the bus, visit your popular sister in the bakery she works in and then head on home. 

This was your life.

Did you want it to change? Yes. But, did you have the will and the magical powers to do so? No. 

“It’s your life (Y/N). Do something for yourself for once will you?” 

The words of your sister will haunt you for the rest of the day. Well, She is right. But, this was your life. It was dull and uneventful. If this was your fate so be it. There was no point in trying to make it interesting at this point right?

You walk back on your usual route to the station, however, you had to rendezvous to another way to the station due to a road block. Guess life wasn’t being kind to your today isn’t it?

You pass by two soldier guards in an alley to the station. They looked bored and had nothing better to do and you had no intention of mingling with them, even if your sister told you to try and talk to more people.

“What a pretty girl. Want us to take you for some tea?” One of the guards attempt to flirt with you, trying to block your way. The other guard snickers at his friend’s tease.

“No. Please leave me alone.” You deadpan. Glaring at them and trying to let them know that they were crossing the line. 

“Oh you see. Ya scared her!” said the other guard, nudging his friend.

“I think she’s even cuter when she’s scared.” The guard replied, hitting his friend on the shoulder. 

You were about to run to the other direction when you hear a crisp and handsome voice from behind you, and a reassuring hand on your arm.

“There you are sweetheart. Sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you.” 

To be continued.

[photogirl894]

"Sun and Rain"

Chapter 7

"Observations"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: Nothing really! Just thank you to everyone who's been reading, liking, commenting and reblogging my story! 😊 You guys are amazing! ❤

《 Chapter 6

》 Chapter 8

All chapters

Explanation: After the skirmish on Felucia, Crosshair and Hunter get serious about Kimber. She and Echo also have their talk about Echo's experience on Skako Minor.

After Echo had told them he would go to Kimber and told them to go, Hunter, Tech, Rex and Wrecker had finished off the ground force and then dashed into the facility. Once they were inside, they took out whatever remaining Droids were inside with Tech's help when he decided to reprogram one of the Droids to where he could control it, thus redirecting its fire onto the other Droids. Afterwards, Hunter had run up to the turret that had almost shot Kimber, took control of it and had turned its aim towards the other turret, taking it out immediately. With the destruction of the tower, the Separatist facility was theirs.

As they exited the outpost, they spotted Echo and Crosshair...and Kimber, her helmet removed and lying limp in Crosshair's arms.

"Kimber!" Hunter immediately called out, rushing over to them with the others behind him.

"Take it easy, Hunter," stated Crosshair as Hunter came up to them and removed his helmet. "She merely fainted."

"I'd imagine this much action was a bit more than she bargained for," added Echo.

Looking back down at her, Crosshair then said, "Though, I'll admit: she did well for her first mission."

Everyone's eyes widened in surprise.

"A compliment from Crosshair...it's a shame Kimber isn't conscious because she would've just witnessed a miracle," Tech declared.

"Stow it, Tech," Crosshair sneered.

"She should be okay," Echo reassured the others.

Hunter gazed down at Kimber's face. She looked so serene, which was definitely better than how she appeared when they first found her. By the stars, she truly was beautiful. He had seen it before, but now that she was healthier and healed, her beauty was more accentuated. To his memory, he couldn't remember seeing a more fair and lovely being anywhere. He then recalled hearing her cry out when the Droids were shooting at her and the fear that had arisen within him at the thought of her being harmed on their account. That was the last thing he wanted to happen; she was an innocent woman who didn't deserve to be thrust into their war, even if she did choose to come on her own. He couldn't ask anymore of her. What she'd done to help them that day to take the Separatist facility was already more than enough. Kimber deserved better than this; better than them. She deserved to be back home on Tatooine...despite his perhaps selfish wishes in not wanting her to go back.

He faced Rex and asked him, "Captain, what should we do about her? Should we take her back to Coruscant...or do we take her back to Tatooine?"

Rex's expression was uncertain and he let out a sigh. "I don't know. I feel that choice should be left up to her. I need to report to the Generals. I'll be back." With that, he walked a few yards away out of sight.

Crosshair and Echo both carefully laid Kimber up against the tree behind them. By the facility, Tech and Wrecker were disposing of all the Droid wreckage.

"She must have done something right for you to compliment her the way you did," Hunter said to Crosshair, who had stepped back from Kimber, removed his helmet and stuck another toothpick in his mouth.

With a frown, Crosshair said back to him, "I may be a skeptic, Hunter, but I know a good sniper when I see one." He glanced down at Kimber, resting soundly against the tree. "Despite when the Droids were firing at her, she held her own well for a simple woman from Tatooine. She has skill." His eyes narrowed curiously.

That didn't go unnoticed by Hunter. "I know that look. What are you thinking?"

Looking back at him, Crosshair told him, "I'm thinking it wouldn't hurt to have her tag along with us a little longer."

Astonished at that statement, Hunter replied, "Are you crazy? Crosshair, she isn't a soldier. She's not made for a life like this. Besides, she has family on Tatooine who are probably wondering where she is. We need to take her back."

"Think about it, Sarge. She was the Tuskens' prisoner for long enough that she lost track of the amount of time she was with them. Don't you think her family would've found her before we did?"

That was a question Hunter didn't expect and, for a brief moment, was unsure how to answer. Finally, he just said, "Perhaps they presumed her dead...and we shouldn't keep her from them any longer. We only took her with us to Coruscant because she needed better medical help and Echo didn't want to risk the Tuskens getting to her again."

"Aren't we still taking that risk by taking her back anyway?" Crosshair asked, folding his arms.

Hunter once again was stumped. He couldn't deny that Crosshair made a point with that question, but he shook his head and said, "It's not up to us, Crosshair."

"You're right...it's her choice. Have you even asked her if she wants to go back to Tatooine?"

"I...," Hunter began, but then he faltered. In truth, he had never actually asked Kimber about that. He simply assumed that she would want to because it was her home planet.

Crosshair spoke up again, "I personally think she could be a good asset to the team and perhaps, we could give her that choice eventually. Not that you would complain about that."

"What are you talking about?" Hunter questioned him.

A mischievous grin appeared on Crosshair's face. "I may see things well from a distance, but I notice things up close, too, Hunter. Don't think I haven't seen the way you've been looking at her and how protective you've been of her. You're beginning to care about her."

Put on the spot, Hunter turned his face away to hide his reaction. He should've known that, out of everyone in the squad, Crosshair would be the one to pick up on those little nuances. He guessed he wasn't as good at hiding it as he thought.

Though, in the moment, he didn't want to be vulnerable and admit it, so he said in response to Crosshair a bit defensively, "I simply want to keep her safe, Crosshair. Kimber wasn't born for war like we are. She deserves a better life than anything we can offer her and I don't want her to come to harm again."

"Mm-hmm...," Crosshair hummed, twirling his toothpick with his teeth, clearly unconvinced by Hunter's explanation.

Just then, they heard Kimber groan.

The two of them focused their attention on her as they noticed her eyelids fluttering open. Hunter got down onto a knee right in front of her.

"Kimber?" he said.

"Hunter?" she asked back, her eyes now fully open.

"She's awake!" Hunter called out to the others.

At his call, Echo, Tech and Wrecker all came jogging over to them.

"Kimber, are you all right?" Wrecker asked, concerned.

She straightened up against the tree, rubbed her head and responded through another groan, "Yeah...yeah, I'm all right. I guess that fight took a lot more out of me than I thought."

"You did great," said Echo, laying his hand on her shoulder.

"Even Crosshair said so," stated Tech, which earned him a little shove in the arm from Crosshair.

Kimber suspected from his reaction that Crosshair wasn't typically one to offer any sort of acclaim that often. She met his gaze and decided she wouldn't make a big deal out of it for his sake, so she simply gave him a smile and a respectful nod. He gave her a nod back.

"I assume you took the facility?" she asked, looking between all of them.

"Indeed, we did," answered Tech. "Though, it's mostly thanks to your advantageous strategy."

Kimber scoffed. "I really didn't do much."

"Give yourself some credit, Kimber," Hunter told her. "Were it not for your help, we wouldn't have been able to capture this outpost as easily if at all. You really helped us out."

"He's right," spoke Rex's voice as he came up behind the rest of them. He grinned, impressed, down at Kimber as he said, "You really proved yourself today. You should be proud."

Kimber blushed timidly.

"Let's finish the cleanup here, boys," Rex then ordered the Bad Batch, "and Tech, I'll need you to help gather all the intel we can from inside this facility."

"You've got it, sir," Tech responded gladly, pulling out his datapad and making his way back to the entrance of the outpost.

Rex then looked at Echo and said, "Echo, why don't you take Kimber back to the Marauder while we finish things up here?"

Echo bowed his head in response.

As the rest of the squad moved out to carry out Rex's orders, Hunter stayed behind for an extra moment. He simply gave Kimber a bright, reassuring smile and he gently grasped her hand while keeping his eyes on her. To Kimber's relief, she didn't feel triggered or have the urge to retract her hand this time and she couldn't hold back her own smile as she took in the warmth of his touch. After that, Hunter stood up and went off to join the others.

Once he was out of earshot, Echo came in front of Kimber, offered a hand out to her and said with a devious look in his eyes, "Don't think I didn't see that."

As she took his hand and stood up with his help, she asked, "Didn't see what?"

"That smile on your face when Hunter touched your hand," he answered as they began walking away from the outpost. "You're still smiling."

Embarrassed, Kimber turned away, covering her hand with her mouth.

Then he snickered. "Oh and your face is now as red as the Sergeant's bandana."

"Shut up, Echo!" she exclaimed, mortified, shoving him in the arm, which made him chuckle even more. She exhaled loudly. "I...don't even know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything about it," he assured her.

The look he was giving her told her everything: he knew full well that she was attracted to Hunter, but he was going to keep her secret; he wouldn't say anything about it to anyone.

"Thank you," she sighed.

He simply nodded and they kept going.

After a few minutes of silence, they were almost to the Marauder, but then Kimber stopped in place. Echo noticed this shortly after realizing she wasn't next to him and he looked back over his shoulder.

"Kimber? Is everything okay?" he asked her, moving back towards her.

She suddenly looked at him with sadness in her eyes. "I want to say I'm sorry."

Taken aback, he questioned her, "What are you sorry for? You haven't done anything to me."

"Echo...I know about the Citadel...and Skako Minor."

His face turned from confusion to understanding once he heard her say that. He sighed and asked, "Is this why you said you wanted to talk later?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Rex told you, didn't he?"

Kimber simply nodded.

"I had a feeling he would, since I hadn't had the chance to tell you myself," he said nonchalantly. "I don't mind, though. He's the only person I would want to tell my story other than myself."

"That's why you've been so attentive to me...because you understand, in a way, what I've been through...because you, too, were a slave."

He gave her a nod. "Yes. I didn't want you to feel alone."

She stepped closer to him, her voice trembling. "Echo...you suffered so much more than I did. Yes, I was beaten and tortured often, but you were made into a human machine! You were hooked up to the computers of an entire facility and your mind was used against your will! Then you were rescued and walked away from that only months ago! Echo...how do you do it? How do you possibly cope with that every day?"

"Trust me, I'm reminded about it daily," he responded, holding up his scomp arm, "and I knew that would be the case. I knew I could either let it haunt me and I would be miserable or I could accept that this was who I am now, learn to live with it and I'd be...less miserable. Believe me, I'm still haunted by it." His eyes went distant. "I have nightmares still from time to time. Both about the explosion at the Citadel and what happened on Skako Minor...but that's part of being a soldier. Sometimes, you have to recover from things quicker so you can get back out in the field and help those who need you."

"That doesn't seem very fair."

"It might not be, but I don't mind. I helped the Republic gain their victory over Anaxes very shortly after I was rescued. I was ready to get back in and help, especially when I was unwittingly part of the reason why they kept getting defeated. That's just part of who I am."

Kimber was stunned listening to him. He truly was such a selfless person who didn't seem concerned with his own self. His priorities seemed to be with other people; the Republic and her. How could he have suffered so much and still be so caring and level-headed?

He kept going, "We found you on Tatooine and you said you had been made a slave. In that moment, I knew I couldn't leave you there. I knew once you were out of the Tusken camp what you would experience and I knew I could help. I may have overstepped in having the Bad Batch take you to Coruscant, but I didn't trust leaving you on Tatooine at the time. I know soon we'll have to take you back, but--"

"No!" Kimber suddenly cried out.

Echo was startled by her outburst. He said nothing, but stared at her, puzzled.

"I can't go back to Tatooine," she told him. Just as Echo was about to ask her why, she said, her voice breaking, "I have nothing left there. When the Tuskens took me, they...they...."

Fearing what she was about to say, he went up to her, put his hand and his scomp arm on her shoulders and urged her, "They what? Kimber, what did the Tuskens do?"

A sob escaped her throat as she confided, "They...destroyed my home...and they killed my parents. I have no one...I have nothing."

Unable to hold herself together, Kimber clutched at her heart and her knees buckled beneath her. Echo caught her around the waist, supporting her, and guided her down to her knees. Once she touched the ground, she fell against Echo's chest and wept. He held her tight and close and didn't say a word, his heart breaking at her revelation and listening to her crying. This poor young woman truly was alone in the world. Was there anything he could do for her?

After a few minutes of letting her cry, Echo finally said to her soothingly, "I am so sorry, Kimber. I know you're hurting now...but I promise, I'll find a way to help you."

She shook her head against his chest. "No...you don't need to," she said in a strained voice. "I don't want the others to know."

"Why not?"

"You boys already have worried too much about me and I don't want to give them anymore to worry about. I don't want to be more of a burden to your squad than I already am."

Echo brought his hand to Kimber's cheek and raised her tear-filled gaze to meet his. "Kimber, you are not a burden to us," he stated firmly. "It was our choice to bring you with us to Coruscant and to look after you. We wouldn't have brought you with us here if you were a burden. If you told the others, I know they would all be willing to help you out."

Sadly, she shook her head again. "You all have already done enough for me. I can't ask anymore of you. I'll let you take me back to Tatooine and let the others think I'll be okay...but then I'll board a transport and go somewhere else...and find my own way."

"Kimber...," Echo groaned, unsure and unhappy with what she was saying, but then he stopped himself. This wasn't the time to argue with her. So he grasped her by the shoulder and said, "Come on, let's get you on the ship."

He helped her back up to her feet, wrapped his good arm around her shoulders and walked with her to the Marauder, praying silently to the stars that he would still find a way to help her somehow. Despite what she said, there was no chance he was going to let her go back to Tatooine now that he knew she would be alone.

He would find a way...he had to.

[jingabitch]

That 0 effort Moonbyul oneshot

SUMMARY: you get picked up at a bar

RATING: explicit

PAIRINGS: moonbyul x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut | oral sex (f receiving) | hookup | implied facesitting | sexual tension

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

A/N: hello one and all, it is me, arisen from the dead! unbeta-ed because i am trash. sorry guys. will probably come back and clean up at some point.

You sighed as you stared yourself down in the office mirror, leaning in to apply the bold red lip colour. You had to be careful with it – if you made a mistake, that would be a perfect way to cap off this shitty week, you thought. After being yelled at by your useless client and then by your boss for not being quick enough at building that bullshit case to get him out of that sexual harassment lawsuit that he clearly deserved, what you really needed was to get absolutely shitfaced drunk tonight, you decided, staring yourself in the mirror as you ran your fingers through your hair, releasing it from the tight bun that had no doubt been contributing to your headache today.

Popping open a few more buttons of your crisp white button-down blouse, you reached in to rearrange your tits to maximize your cleavage. You weren’t exactly planning to hook up with anyone, but the girls needed some airtime too.

Satisfied with your appearance now, you headed to the bar just a block away from your office. The bartender was, by this point, familiar with you, and put a glass of whiskey in front of you before you even ordered.

“Thanks,” you nodded, sliding him your card to start your tab.

“Rough week?” he asked sympathetically.

You shrugged. “Same old.” It really was. Your days were mostly spent getting rich people out of messes caused by their cavalier disregard for other people, which really hadn’t been what you’d thought your life was going to be like after graduating law school, but it paid your bills (and your hefty student loans).

The whiskey burned going down, but you relished it. Just one sip seemed to help the stress of the week melt away, and you slipped your heels out of your pumps, letting them dangle from your toes as you rotated your head, working the kinks out of your neck.

As you scrolled through Instagram, enjoying reading something that wasn’t your cases, you absently sipped at your whiskey, finishing the rest of it. Just as you were setting your empty glass down, the bartender placed another glass next to the old one, and you looked up, surprised.

“Looks like you’ve taken someone’s fancy,” he told you, grinning as he did a chin jut in the direction of your mysterious benefactor.

Picking up the fresh drink, you turned to look for the guy who’d sent you the drink. This happened almost every time you were here, and while you could do without the attention, you loved the free booze.

To your surprise, however, it wasn’t a guy who made eye contact with you. It was a woman, dressed in an oversized blazer and trousers, her long silver hair spilling over her shoulders. She raised her own shot glass up to you and winked. It was overdone, definitely bordering on sleazy, but inexplicably, it worked on you. Raising your own drink back at her, you winked back before bringing the glass to your lips.

She moved fast, and when you put your glass back down on the counter, she was standing beside you. “Hey,” she greeted, her voice surprisingly husky. She rested her elbows against the counter and folded her arms, turning her head slightly to look at you more directly.

“Hello,” you greeted. You had to admit, the sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine. Helpless to suppress the instinct, your teeth sank into your lower lip as your gaze met hers.

“I’m Byulyi,” she introduced herself, before signalling to the bartender that she wanted another round.

“Y/n,” you said, strangely shy. Byulyi’s gaze was so intense that you couldn’t help but lower your own, tucking your hair behind your ear self-consciously.

“That’s such a pretty name,” she said, her hand following yours and caressing the side of your face.

Knowing that all of this was a bit didn’t render you immune to her charm. The same attitude that you would find so off-putting in a man was suddenly enchanting to you, as if you’d never been chatted up by some greasy guy before.

“Thank you,” you said, biting your lip as heat flared on your cheeks.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl,” she continued in a low voice, her face close to yours, your foreheads almost touching.

You giggled at the line, then almost clapped your hand over your mouth in horror. You had a law degree and a position as an associate at a big four firm. Barely a year into your career, people were already whispering about you making partner. You hadn’t giggled in almost ten years. What was going on with you?

Desperate to shift the balance of power in this interaction, you blurted out, “You’re pretty too,” leaning infinitesimally closer as you reached out, winding your fingers through the belt loops on her trousers to pull her closer to you.

Her jaw loosened slightly, surprised at how forward you were all of a sudden. You grinned as you looked her dead in the eye, daring her without words to kiss you.

She leaned in, your eyes fluttered shut, and…

The sound of the glass slamming down against the counter shocked the both of you, and you turned back towards the countertop, your eyes widening as you saw the bartender, who’d put Byulyi’s shot down in front of you.

“Ladies,” he said, clearly barely suppressing a laugh. “Feel free to go ahead, but you should know that you’re attracting quite the audience.”

You slung your arm around the back of Byulyi’s neck and rested your temple on her chest as you turned to see what he meant, your legs swinging slightly as they dangled from the stool. Her arms came up around you, helping to support you as she too looked over.

You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to see almost everyone in the bar staring at you, slack-jawed.

“Oops,” you said, flashing a sheepish smile up at Byulyi. Charmed, she smiled back at you.

“Shall we get out of here?” she asked, biting her lip suggestively, and you nodded, resisting the urge to kiss her again.

You both turned back to the bar to down your drinks, and you called for the bill, rooting around in your bag for your wallet. Before you could put your card down, however, Byulyi stopped you, putting her hand over your bill.

“Let me,” she said, ignoring your protests, and paid for both tabs herself.

“You know, you really didn’t have to do that,” you said mildly as you slid off the high stool. You would usually have been more upset and annoyed by someone being so presumptuous and overbearing, but she had a way of getting past your defenses.

“I know, but I wanted to,” she told you, her arm sliding around your waist. The way she kneaded the curve of your body with her hand, almost groping you, should have irritated you, but instead you found yourself leaning further into her.

The cab ride back to her place was filled with tension. You were too self-conscious to make out with her in the backseat of the car, with a stranger sitting mere inches away from you, so instead you buckled yourself into one of the seats, leaning against the door in an effort to stay out of arm’s reach.

The glower she sent your way sent chills down your spine – you knew you would pay for this later. The thought of how she might punish you for being a tease had your panties slick, your thighs rubbing against each other in a manner that you hoped was subtle enough to go undetected.

Her slow smirk let you know that she had, in fact, noticed, and how sexy she looked with that expression had you biting your lip as a fresh gush flooded your panties again.

God, could this Uber be driving any slower?!

You were barely cognizant of where the car was going, but when you looked out the window in a last-ditch attempt to not get sucked into Byulyi’s magnetic presence and scramble into her lap, you noticed the neighbourhood you were in. Holy shit, you thought, gaping out the window. This was a fancy part of town, full of expensive condominiums. One of the partners at your firm lived here, and he had a doorman and a private elevator – you’d seen it once when you came to deliver some documents on a Sunday.

Pulling up at the security post of a gated apartment complex, the Uber driver rolled down his window and the backseat one. Byulyi waved at the security guard, and he let you through.

You weren’t done gawking yet when the car pulled up at the drop-off point and Byulyi unsnapped her seatbelt and got out of the car. Between your shock and the alcohol, it took a moment for things to click in your mind, but then you followed her out.

If Byulyi hadn’t saved you by grabbing you and slamming you up against the wall, you would probably have said something embarrassing. Instead, you put your mouth to better use quickly by kissing her back, her tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you clench on yourself, almost shuddering.

“Fuck,” she swore, groping your breast over your blouse. You burrowed your hands under her blazer, and were about to pull her shirt out from her trousers when she pulled away, leaving you slightly disoriented.

She swore again, looking at you blinking at her with a pout settling over your features. Your lips were swollen and messy, your hair tumbling over your shoulders, and your skirt hiked around your thighs from the way you’d wrapped one leg around her. You looked, in a word, debauched.

“Let’s go,” she said roughly, clearing her throat and taking your hand again. You let her lead you to the elevators, leaning against the wall and watching with half-lidded eyes as she pressed the button for the top floor.

You rested your chin on her shoulder and wrapped your arms around her, watching as she used her fingerprint to open the door. As the heavy wooden door swung open, you half-tumbled into the apartment, not that you cared very much as she was immediately on you again.

Carelessly, you dropped your bag and kicked off your heels, too absorbed in getting her out of those clothes. The blazer fell onto the ground together with your scattered items, and you pushed her further into the apartment before attacking her belt. Not to be outdone, she was equally busy unbuttoning your blouse. Had she been a man, you might have worried about your buttons popping off – you did not have time to sew them back on – but even though she was in a rush, her fingers were nimble and dexterous.

Shrugging the blouse off, you immediately reached around her to unsnap her bra, pulling it off her and dropping it in the hallway. You had to pause then to pay homage to her gorgeous tits, all pale, snowy white skin topped with dark brown nipples. Pushing her against the wall, you dipped your head to suck one into your mouth, while your hands busied themselves with getting her out of her pants.

Her fingers speared through your hair, gripping it tightly as you lavished attention on first one, then the other breast. Finally, you managed to get her pants undone, and you hooked your fingers in her panties to pull them off, together with her trousers.

Looking up at her with a smirk, you dropped to your knees, urging her to step out of the pooled fabric around her ankles. For some unknowable reason, you were still wearing your pencil skirt, and you hiked it up around your hips as you spread your knees, your fingers worming into your panties to find your clit among the soaked folds as you lowered your head to her pussy.

Before you dived in, you took a second to appreciate how pretty it was, how good it smelled. You were sure your lashes fluttered a little, almost overwhelmed by the enormity of this experience, the privilege of getting to kneel before this goddess and taste her pussy.

Seeing your over-the-top reaction must have made her impatient, because before you could do anything more, she grabbed your head again and pushed you into her pussy, smearing the juices over your face.

“Fuck, yes, slut,” she groaned as you took the hint and started licking her enthusiastically. She did taste amazing, sweet and salty all at once, a heady flavour that coated your tongue. You worked your clit furiously as you ran your tongue over hers, looking up at her almost worshipfully as she thrust her hips in your face, working herself back and forth over your tongue with small, rhythmic motions as her hand held your head firmly in place.

It didn’t take long for her to cum with how worked up you both were, and the sensation of her orgasming on your tongue as she filled your mouth with cream had you shuddering as you came too.

In the aftermath, she let go of your head, helping you up as you pulled your soaked fingers out of your panties. Her gaze captured yours as she took your hand, putting your fingers into her mouth. You bit your lip helplessly as you felt her tongue slide around the appendages, instantly growing aroused again.

“That’s good,” she purred when she’d gotten every bit of your slick off your fingers. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to taste it from the source.”

This time, you were in less of a hurry, and she actually took the time to lead you to the bedroom, pulling off your skirt and your pathetically soaked panties on the way. Your body had barely touched the mattress, though, before she was crawling onto the bed after you, pushing your legs apart and lowering her head to you.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, wanting to watch her go down on you, but the combination of her skilled tongue and magic fingers was soon too much for you, and you collapsed back onto the mattress, your toes curling into the bedspread as you closed your eyes against the sensations, your hips jerking slightly as you panted and cried out.

Her tongue was stimulating your clit as her fingers hit your g-spot unerringly, over and over again, and it proved to be too much as you came for a second time, your back arching off the mattress as you clenched down on her fingers repeatedly, screaming her name as you orgasmed.

“Wow,” you breathed as you opened your eyes, watching as she propped herself up on her elbows, grinning at you smugly. “That was amazing.”

“I know,” she said, almost gloating. You supposed that was fair, given the way you’d squirted all over her face. Her silver hair was darker at some parts now, hanging more heavily around her face.

“Let me return the favour?” you asked, holding your hand out to her. She got up on her knees and took it. You locked your fingers with hers and tugged until she got the message, shuffling up the bed.

“You sure about this?” she asked, hovering above your face with one knee on either side of your head. You nodded emphatically, and she bent down to kiss you deeply. You could smell and taste yourself all over her face, and the idea of it just made you want more.

Placing her hands on the mattress above your head for balance, she lowered herself to your face, and your arms went around her thighs, holding her in place.

[satoruvt]

for now; forever

pairing → kwon soonyoung x reader

word count → 9015

genre → mostly fluff, angst ↳ tags: ooh boy. firewatch au, banter, like a little bit (a lot) of pining, strangers to friends to… something, FLIRTING, reader’s kinda fucked up but its ok, hoshi’s weird and endearing (as always), a tiny bit of hurt/comfort, minghao best boy, soonyoung is very sweet it makes me want to cry

synopsis → after an unfortunate burnout that lands you in every critic’s negative and all-seeing eye, you decide to take a break from the one thing you know. you’re not sure if you’ll find what you’re looking for out in the middle of the woods - if you’re looking for anything at all - but at the very least, soonyoung will make the hunt a little less lonely.

warnings → there’s eventually a forest fire (starts on day 64 and is mentioned throughout the rest of the fic) that leads to an evacuation but it’s not super detailed, mentions and descriptions of creative burnout/breakdown

a/n → IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! i made a fancy banner nd everything <3 i know 9k isn’t a lot to some people but this is probably the longest one shot i’ve ever written LMAOO so i hope it’s paced ok and everything <33 PLEASE let me know what yall thought about this i am insanely proud of it. ok thats it hehe. hope you enjoy!!! see u on the other side!!!!

btw here’s a fun playlist of songs i listened to while writing mixed with some songs i think reflect the fic super well <33

DAY ONE.

So. You’re… out here, now.

Save for the bugs you have to swat at every fifteen seconds, the outdoors doesn’t seem that bad. The weather isn’t too hot (yet, your mind reminds you) and there’s something about the color of the sky that makes your heart constrict in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s good or bad, but given your luck recently, you’re hoping it’s not a warning for the coming months - God knows you need a break. The weight of the journal in your bag feels heavier than any of the camping gear you brought with you.

You debate texting Minghao that you’ve made it to the park safely, but when you check your phone after deciding yes, you see the words no service instead of the familiar lines of a signal. It’s not that big of a deal - you’d told him when you left that you probably wouldn’t have service at all - but a little part of you feels the tender shake of anxiety at the thought of not being able to contact your best friend. 

He was the most worried out of everyone when you told him you were leaving for the summer. You can’t really blame him - it was abrupt, you saw the flyer at the grocery store and took it - but after what happened… doing something felt, feels, better than sitting around and waiting for nothing to happen. Waiting for a healing you aren’t sure will ever come, at least not completely.

“Is this really…” Minghao had started upon first entering your apartment after getting your text. Clothes were thrown all over your bedroom floor in an attempt to pack. “Do you need to do this?”

The tone of his voice told you he wasn’t going to try to stop you, that he just wanted to make sure this was what you needed. You had only nodded, sitting down on the edge of your bed to fold clothes and pack them into your suitcase.

“I just don’t want you to run away from it all,” Minghao said softly, sitting next to you. “You’ll need to face it eventually.”

“Is escaping really such a bad thing?” You asked, looking at Minghao. He gave you the look he did when you said something stupid, and if you weren’t still so wired from everything, you might have laughed. Instead, you sighed, placing a pair of pants into your suitcase. “I just need some time.”

Before you can face it, before you can come back, before you can write again… you still don’t know. Minghao had placed a kind hand on your shoulder to tell you there was no rush.

It’d taken no more than two days for you to get everything ready - including buying some apparently necessary survival equipment from Target. In a matter of a few hours you had gathered everything up, texted some other friends and your family that you might not be available the next few months and then… you left. 

(Your manager was pretty pissed off that you left so suddenly, but she was also pissed off at you when you told her you needed a break for at least a few weeks, so you’re not really offended.)

You take one last longing look at your car before locking it, pocketing the keys, and starting on your hike.

The hike takes almost the whole day. 

You think you almost cry when you finally see the watch tower you’re supposed to be staying in, your legs barely able to hold the rest of your body up. The hike wasn’t hard, really - long, though, and for someone who usually spends a work day sitting at a desk, you’re surprised you’re still alive. You find the little lock that holds the keys to the tower at the bottom of the stairs, fastened onto the railing. It takes a few seconds for you to enter the code you’d been given earlier, relishing in the soft breeze the cools the sweat on your face and neck. The sun is just barely starting to set beyond the mountains, a beautiful sight that you can’t properly focus on because all you want to do is pass out. You’re pretty sure you almost do on your way up the stairs.

The cabin at the top of the tower is pretty scarcely furnished, save for a few basic necessities (a gas stove rests on one wall, a small desk opposite to it by the door, a mini-fridge, and a bed in the corner plus what looks like a map table in the center of the room). It’s a little weird, a feeling caught between the nostalgia of moving into a new place and something you can’t quite name, but you figure you have a few months to make it all a little more comfortable.

For now, though, you feel like you’re on the last leg of your energy. Your mind is saying eat, sleep, eat, sleep on repeat and you have to agree with it, so you change the sheets on the bed, take down the boards over the windows while you wait for the macaroni from the Kraft box to cook. You end up eating a few forkfuls of poorly-made mac and cheese before crashing.

When you wake up, it’s to gentle static and a semi-clear, unfamiliar voice. It takes you a minute to remember where you are and what you’re doing, too disoriented to even think about the voice, but then - oh. Forest. Watch tower. Escape. Okay.

“Yo, Cottonwood! Am I coming through okay? Pick up your radio!”

Right. The voice. Radio?

“Come on, I saw you get in yesterday, I know you’re there. Unless,” a gasp, “you died! Oh my God, this is like a horror movie… and I’m next!”

You manage to wake up enough to locate your radio (a walkie-talkie resting on a charger on the desk) and, after a few seconds of gentle struggle, work it. “Not dead,” you say, then clear your throat because your voice does not sound good right after waking up. “I mean… almost. But not dead.”

There’s barely a moment of hesitation before the person on the other end hoots, apparently excited. “Arisen from the dead! Brought back to life by none other than the legendary Hoshi!”

A brief thought crosses your mind about having to listen to this guy all summer, but you quickly shoo it away. You won’t have to deal with it for the whole three months, right? “Who… who is Hoshi?”

“Me!” The voice answers, sounding a little too smug. “But it’s really just an alias. You can call me Soonyoung. I’m at Twin Peaks tower, west of yours!”

You spin around your cabin, looking through the windows cluelessly - how long have you been asleep, it’s practically afternoon - until you see a very small silhouette of another tower in the distance. You nod, then realize Soonyoung can’t see you. “Oh. Cool.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?” Soonyoung asks, but his tone is light, breezy. You blink, reciting your name to him in a daze. “Pretty! So, what brings you out here?”

You weren’t expecting that question. “What?”

Soonyoung giggles into the radio. “Everyone comes out here for some reason. Like… Jihoon says it’s ‘cause it helps him write music. And Joshua loves the outdoors, so… what’s your reason?”

“You…” you start, not exactly wanting to tell a stranger the reason you ran away from everything you know. “Do you normally ask this many questions?”

“Yeah!”

You feel yourself sigh, already tired again.

“I… just wanted to get away for a while,” you end up saying. A half-truth. “I live in the city.”

“No way,” Soonyoung gasps excitedly. “Me too! I wonder if both of us have ever been walking and, like, passed each other without knowing…”

This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought of escaping.

DAY TWO.

The next morning, you dedicate time to getting a little more settled into your home for the next few months. You didn’t bring a lot of decor - you didn’t think you needed any - but even seeing your blanket on the bed and a few books you need to catch up on reading stacked on the desk makes the place feel a little bit more like you. You eventually reach the journal you packed (that Minghao made you pack) and stare at it like it might do something. Like it might tell you to write again, or like it might tell you to leave everything behind. You don’t really know what you want from it.

A sing-songed version of your name comes from your radio and you blink away from the journal, set it down on the desk. “Good morning!” Soonyoung says from the other end, and you feel yourself take a deep breath as you pick up your radio and press down the button so he can hear you.

“Morning, Soonyoung,” you respond, calm compared to his excitement. 

“So… what are your plans for today?”

“Um,” you pause, brows furrowed, looking towards the direction of his tower even though you know he can’t see you. “Looking out for fires?”

“That’s boring,” is Soonyoung’s immediate response, and you laugh a little.

“Kinda my job for a while.”

And listen, you’ve known Soonyoung for less than a full 24 hours, but even before your brain really comprehends what he’s saying you know you’re not going to like it. “Wait, that reminds me,” he says, tone of his voice a little less overexcited puppy. “What did you do before this? Or, like, what’s your career? I mean, you don’t have to answer, I just thought it could be a way for us to get to know each other…”

His voice fades away for the split second you remember a little too much all at once, but somehow your voice still sounds put together when you speak. “Nothing special,” you say. There’s a pause when you don’t elaborate any further, but instead of asking about it, Soonyoung changes the subject.

“Okay!” he says, back to a more playful tone. “Anyways, I asked about your plans ‘cause I kind of need you to do something for me.”

“Already asking favors?” you tease. “We just met, Soonyoung.”

You hear him laugh, loud and hearty, and it’s contagious even through a radio line so you feel your own smile pull at your lips. “One of the other lookouts found some teenagers with fireworks,” he informs you. “I need you to meet him and get the fireworks from him.”

Your feet are already in your shoes, one halfway tied. “You can’t do this?”

Soonyoung’s voice is strangely thoughtful, but you catch a hint of mischief at the end of his sentence. “I would, but Jihoonie said he’d eat me if I tried to see him again and I think he’s serious this time.”

He tells you where the other lookout - Jihoon - should be and gives you a quick lesson on how to properly use your map to get there. You’re not really excited for another hike this early on (you’re still sore from even getting up here) but by the time you meet the halfway mark you’re convinced it’s not that bad. It’s neither long nor challenging, and… well, Soonyoung’s insistent on keeping you company the whole time. 

When you see what looks like a guy at the edge of a now-abandoned camp, you tell Soonyoung you’ll radio him when you’re on your way back to your tower. “Hey,” you call out as you get closer. The man looks up at you, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “Jihoon?”

“Yeah,” he replies. Under his cap you notice that his hair is a gentle silver, almost purple. He’s dressed casually, like you, and you suppose it’s a given since there’s no exact dress code for this job.  “You’re the newbie?”

You didn’t know people knew about you. “I.. I guess,” you say, then tell him your name.

“Cool,” Jihoon says, voice flat like he’s distracted. He picks up the bag next to his feet and hands it to you. “Take these. Thanks.”

He starts to walk away, down a trail opposite the direction you came, but you think of earlier, when Soonyoung asked about your job (or when he didn’t). You call after Jihoon, hesitate, but then opt to make this quick since he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Have you and Soonyoung… known each other for long?”

Jihoon turns around. He shrugs, then nods. “We met in college, a few years ago.”

“What kind of person is he?”

You watch in vague amusement as Jihoon’s nose scrunches up, but the small smile on his face refuses to hide and it makes you giggle. “Really annyoing,” he tells you, then pauses for a second like he’s looking for the right words, “kind of overwhelming sometimes. But he’s good. He’s someone you want around.”

Someone you want around, your brain repeats to you. You nod with a friendly smile as you haphazardly stuff the fireworks in your hiking bag. “Okay. Thank you.”

Jihoon offers an acknowledging nod of his own before continuing on his way back to his tower. You’re about five minutes into your hike back to yours when your radio sounds from your pocket with a now-familiar voice.

“Are you on your way back?” Soonyoung asks. “You forgot to tell me!”

“Sorry, yeah, I am now. I was talkin’ to Jihoon for a second.”

“Really? That’s weird. He rarely talks to anyone, especially strangers. What’d you talk about?”

You can’t help the small smile that lands on your face as you speak. “Stuff to blackmail you with.”

You think you hear Soonyoung’s groan all the way from his tower, and your smile only grows when it turns into a laugh.

DAY FIVE.

The clouds look dark today.

They haven’t covered the sun completely yet, but they’re closing in fast. You hope that it rains, already sick and tired of the disgusting heat, but also. Something else.

Rainy days always used to be the best to write, your brain supplies to you. You brave a glance at the still-unopened journal on the desk, thinking that maybe…

Your radio turning on drags you away from the crack in metaphorical door, coming at the perfect time as if to tell you that you’re not ready yet. You listen to it, grab the radio, murmur a greeting to Soonyoung.

“It’s getting pretty dark out, huh?” He says. He must be looking at the sky, too.

“Yeah,” you hum. “Hopefully the storm isn’t too bad.”

The line goes quiet, but you know that Soonyoung’s still there even if he isn’t saying anything. The knowledge comforts you, just a little.

“Well... got any rainy day stories?”

DAY SEVENTEEN.

“So, Soonyoung,” you call into your radio as you step outside. You’ve taken advantage of the small balcony around the entire cabin, setting up a few chairs you found in the storage unit at the bottom of the tower (just in case someone stops by, you tell yourself) and a small table you weren’t using inside. The nights are hot but still relaxing, and you find yourself sitting outside often, catching up on reading or taking in the stars. 

“I can’t believe you radioed me first,” Soonyoung responds, and you hear the smugness in his voice. “I’m so happy!”

Soonyoung somehow almost always manages to be with you in the nights, too, even if not physically. Being away from the urban civilization you’re used to has been a little difficult to adjust to, but you feel significantly less alone whenever you hear him calling you. You tell him to be quiet even though both of you are laughing. The distant crickets make your chest warm.

“What do you do? You didn’t tell me before,” You ask him after a second. There’s a small wave of anxiety that rushes over you at the idea that he might call you out about when he asked you the same thing. That was two weeks ago, though, you think, and Soonyoung wouldn’t. You’re sure he’s been able to tell that it’s a touchy subject. You’re not as discreet as you think you are, even if (and you’ve learned this the past few weeks) Soonyoung’s a bit more on the oblivious side sometimes.

“I dance!” 

Somehow, despite having not even seen what he looks like, it’s fitting. “Like… teach, or choreograph, or…”

“A little of everything,” Soonyoung tells you, and then starts elaborating. His voice echoes through your radio and you look up at the stars as you listen to him, trying to map out constellations from memory. He sounds so excited to simply talk about it, you can’t imagine what he must look like when he’s actually on stage. You hope you get to see it one day.

“You’ll have to teach me something sometime,” you say once he’s finished, voicing your thoughts. With a giggle that sounds like the stars above you, he tells you he’d love to.

A moment of quiet passes, spent focusing on the tiny specks of fireflies you see in the field around your tower and feeling the summer breeze as it passes. The words slip out of your mouth with much less resistance than you thought they would.

“I used to write,” you murmur into your radio. It takes you a moment to register the heavy beat of your heart, like you just got back from a run.

“Used to?” Soonyoung asks, curious but soft.

“For now,” you answer. The ache you’ve become familiar with throbs in your chest. “Hopefully not forever.”

It’s not the whole story - not even close - but you figure you might be able to tell him with time. The thought stresses you out even when you have nothing to stress about, and you think Soonyoung is psychic because he says, next, “the stars are really pretty tonight.”

You’re not looking at the sky when you answer. Your head is tilted in the direction of his tower. 

“They really are,” you say.

DAY THIRTY-THREE.

You’ve fallen into a bit of a routine with Soonyoung. 

Not a day goes by where you don’t talk to him - the one day you radioed and he didn’t pick up you genuinely thought something happened to him, seconds away from calling a park ranger. Right before you actually did it, though, he picked up his radio and said he had been taking a nap.

(His voice was a little groggy from sleep, sounded like he was pouting whether he meant to or not and you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t make your heart skip a few beats - but if anyone asked, you’d definitely lie about it.)

One of you calls the other around the same time every morning and you don’t put down your radio until the sun is well behind the mountains. You’ve grown used to his presence, in a way, even if you can’t really feel him with you (though sometimes you swear you can). It’s comforting to have him out there with you, and it’s been so long since you’ve talked to someone the way you do with Soonyoung… you find yourself looking forward to every morning, waiting for when you hear him over your radio.

Today is no different.

Well, in an unrelated way, it is - you have to hike to a supply box to get your surplus of food for the next month and a half you have left. But even as you’re doing inventory of what you have left in your cabin on a piece of paper, you’re waiting for Soonyoung’s usual good morning. It comes as always, makes you smile when you hear it.

“Good morning!” 

You leave your scratch paper on your desk and reach for your radio. “Morning,” you say after you’ve pressed the button down. 

“So…” Soonyoung trails off. “Supply drop day.”

“Yeah,” you reply, sitting on your bed.

“Both of us are getting crates of food today…”

What is he getting at? “Uh-huh…?”

“Both of us… getting supplies… from the same place.”

A confused laugh leaves your lips. “Soonyoung, what is your point?”

Even for as often as you talk to him, you’re still always surprised when he starts yelling. “Let’s meet up!” he exclaims, obviously excited, and it clicks in your head.

“Oh my God, can we do that?” 

“Yeah!” Soonyoung sounds like he’s grinning, smile palpable in his voice. “If we pull some strings with the other lookouts and get hiking at the right time, it’s totally possible.”

Holy shit. Your heart is beating wildly, butterflies swarming around it at the thought of meeting Soonyoung in person. “Okay,” you tell him, noting that you sound a little breathless. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

It takes a few minutes to work everything out - the supply boxes should be dropped off by midday, so you can leave your tower around then and get to the drop location in a little over an hour. Soonyoung has to leave earlier than you since he’s farther away, but if everything goes well the two of you should get to the drop location close to the same time, margin of error small. You radio Jihoon to cover for you while you’re out, and he agrees, although he sounds a bit miffed.

When you finally leave for your hike, you’re not expecting how quiet it is. Soonyoung’s usually there to cover it up with his voice - you don’t hike often (you’ve not had to, given your job for the summer is to watch for fires) but whenever you have he’s been there to keep you company. You plug in your earphones about halfway through your trip just to drown out the quiet, something more to listen to than just trees and the sound of your own footsteps.

Eventually you make it to the supply box, and, well. There’s a guy. Standing in front of a long, green box - you think you see lookout tower names engraved ever few inches: Thorofare, Cottonwood, Twin Peaks. Packing some ready-to-eat meals into his backpack.

Holy shit, Soonyoung? your brain automatically asks, and it sends your heart spiraling up and down. You’re not sure what you thought he looked like, but it wasn’t this. Tall, lean - wait, you don’t even know if this is actually him yet.

Before you can think too much about it, you call out, voice tentative. “Are you… Soonyoung?”

The man turns around, shakes his head with a kind smile. “No,” he says. “I’m Joshua.”

You think about throwing yourself into the river by your tower when you get back for absolutely no reason. Somehow you manage a polite smile and a gentle sorry.

“No, don’t apologize, you’re fine!” Joshua chirps, adjusting the cap on his head. “You’re looking for him?”

You pause. Those aren’t the exact words you would use, but they’re not technically wrong, so you nod. After all, you don’t know what he looks like (you probably should have asked him before both of you left, but you weren’t expecting another person to be here).

“Please don’t tell me he got lost again,” Joshua says, suddenly looking tired, and you look back at him wide-eyed because... again? Has this happened before?

“No,” you tell him. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Since we both have to pick up supplies he thought it’d be cool if we met up in person.”

Joshua sighs, seemingly relieved, then continues packing what’s left of his supplies into his backpack as he hums. “That’s weird.”

“What is?”

He shrugs. “Soonyoung likes the outdoors, yeah, but the supply box is a pretty far hike from his tower. I think the last few summers he’s had them delivered.”

Oh, you think, and maybe say out loud, because then Joshua’s looking back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. 

“He must really like you to come all the way out here,” he tells you, and you laugh like it might get rid of all the thoughts popping up in your mind that you keep telling yourself to stop thinking about.

“And yet,” you say wistfully, looking towards the horizon. “I still come second to Jihoon.”

This time Joshua laughs, a friendly sound, and the two of you fall into a playful conversation. He’s somewhat a superior of yours, though not by a far gap - as the lookout who’s been on the job the longest, he oversees the rest of you (which is you, Soonyoung, Jihoon, and a few others you have yet to come across). You get along with him easily and it’s weird to think that if you hadn’t gone through what you did a few months ago you wouldn’t be here talking to him, establishing what could be a new friendship. You wonder if that’s a new step towards healing, finding a way to be grateful even if it was horrible.

You talk to Joshua for a while until he says he should get back to his tower. You nod, tell him goodbye (and thanks for his company) and he starts to walk away -

“Shua!”

A burst of platinum blonde hair rushes past you from the opposite direction you came from, heading for Joshua. The new guy drops a bag at his feet and almost softly crashes into Joshua, who has this look on his face you can’t really decipher.

“Hey, Soonyoung,” he says, and you blink.

Soonyoung, like… your Soonyoung? The Soonyoung you’ve been talking to for weeks?

You watch as the two hug, Soonyoung excited to see Joshua and completely ignoring you (though you’re not sure he’s doing it intentionally). All you can do is stand there. This is him, your brain keeps telling you. This is the guy.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soonyoung exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “How are you? How have things been?”

Joshua shrugs, a small smile on his face as he puts a gentle hand on Soonyoung’s head and starts… petting. “I’ve been good, same old deal. I know that you’ve been doing good too, though, as far as I’ve seen from your reports.”

Soonyoung beams at the praise and you take note of it in the back of your mind (you also note the way Joshua’s treating him like a toddler and how it’s working). He opens his mouth to say something else but looks around and meets your eyes - for a second there’s nothing at all, but then you think you see an exclamation mark actually pop above his head.

The yell of your name is so loud it makes you jump. “Oh my God,” Soonyoung whines, falling to his knees dramatically. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”

“This is the first time you’ve seen me,” you say. You can’t seem to hold back your smile.

Joshua excuses himself (again) and finally moves on his way, says he’s in Thorofare lookout if anything happens. The sun is mellow on your skin as you look at Soonyoung, take him in - light hair, warm eyes, tan skin. His smile matches your own. A breeze shifts by, slow and sweet.

“Hi,” you say.

Soonyoung grins.

“Hey.”

-

So the bag you saw Soonyoung drop on the ground before was, in fact, for a picnic.

He didn’t bring a lot of food (the whole point of the hike was to get supply boxes anyways) aside from a few candy bars he’d saved for today. He did bring a blanket, however, and the two of you set everything up on the edge of a rock not too far away from the drop location, under some trees. It looks over a small ravine, a stream cutting through at the bottom. 

The time goes by like it was never there in the first place, spent talking and laughing. Soonyoung is just as animated in person as you thought he’d be, telling stories wildly as the two of you snack away a portion of your supplies. You know the two of you don’t have much time together, given how late it already was when Soonyoung arrived and both of your hikes back to your respective towers, but it’s still… refreshing, almost, to be with him like this, to finally get a piece of him you didn’t before. To hear him without the crackle of the radio and to see him.

To see him.

Something stirs in your chest when you look at him lying back on the blanket, arms supporting his head with his eyes closed. The sun lights up his skin in a golden glow, like honey, and the dark roots growing into his blonde hair are somehow endearing. The breath leaves your lungs when you finally label him as pretty. You hope you can blame the heat in your cheeks on the sun.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Soonyoung sighs, still not opening his eyes. You almost reach out to brush the hair away from his face, but a breeze comes by and does it for you. You hope it’s not a sign.

“It would be nice, huh,” you murmur in response. You finally break your gaze from Soonyoung and lean back on your hands, soaking up the feeling of the blue sky.

It’s now that you remember what Joshua had said earlier about Soonyoung usually getting his supplies delivered, and you turn back to him. “Hey, before you got to the supply box, Joshua and I were talking.” Soonyoung hums in acknowledgement. “Is the hike from your tower to here really that bad?”

His voice strains as he stretches, opening his eyes to look at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s a bitch of a hike to take sometimes. But it’s not really hard except for a few spots, just long.”

You furrow your brows. When you agreed to meet him, you didn’t think it’d be this much trouble for him. “And you came all this way so we could… what, sit here and eat? Like we do most of the time anyways? Just separately?”

Soonyoung pouts at you and you feel personally attacked. “Food tastes good when you’re with other people.”

You give him a soft, semi-playful glare, and Soonyoung offers a small giggle. You turn back towards the view in front of you.

“Did you not want me to come down?” He asks, and he doesn’t sound… sad, really, more observant. Like he wants to know where you’re at.

“No,” you answer almost immediately (Jesus, your brain says). “I just… it’s a long trip. It doesn’t really seem like it’s worth the effort.”

Like I’m worth the effort, you think to yourself. 

You hear Soonyoung shuffle behind you and turn around to look at him again, finding him sitting up straight. “It is to me,” he tells you, and there’s something in his eyes that holds you in your spot. The tips of his fingers brush against yours on the blanket. You’d look down if you didn’t think you’d miss something. “I wanted to.”

In a second, it clicks.

-

It’s not much longer until Soonyoung needs to start heading back. The two of you get your things together, and you help him pack up the picnic supplies he brought. When everything’s said and done and the two of you are back by the supply box, there’s a second of uncharacteristic quiet that falls over you.

“Let me know when you get back,” you say after a moment. Soonyoung grins.

“You’re worried about me!” he swoons, and you hit him on the shoulder playfully, but don’t deny it. It can be dangerous out there, and even if Soonyoung has been out here longer than you, anything can happen. 

“Just radio me, okay?”

Soonyoung smiles, something a little softer from before. He nods. “I will. You be safe too.”

You nod in return, taking a few steps back towards the trail that leads back to your tower. “Talk to you later, Hoshi.”

The last you see of him before you turn around is the grin on his face.

DAY THIRTY-FOUR.

It feels like forever since you’ve been here.

A window is open and welcomes a distant ambiance of the forest around you, trees and birds and animals. The journal you brought with you is open to the first page, but remains untouched - nothing on the pages. At least, not yet.

(The not yet you always tell yourself seems closer, this time, not so far away. Within reach, or at least within reason.)

Soonyoung had called in that the hike from yesterday had worn him out and he needed a nap. You had laughed fondly at how tired he sounded, told him to sleep well and that you’d be waiting for him. And you feel the words, right at your fingertips, the way the rest and wait to be written. Their presence is both terrifying and reassuring. 

You don’t think they’ll be able to bleed out correctly, not the way they used to since it’s been so long. But they’re there, in your mind, in your heart. 

You pick up the pen you got out, feel the weight of it as you click it a few times. You tap it on the desk once, twice, and then.

You take a deep breath and start to write.

DAY SIXTY-FOUR.

“Are you lookin’ at the fire?”

Your eyes leave the page of your book at Soonyoung’s voice crackling from the radio, looking around your cabin windows to see that, oh, there is a fire. You’d kind of forgotten that it’s… literally your job. At least there are multiple lookouts.

You fold the corner of the page you’re on as a makeshift bookmark before closing the book and setting it down on your bed as you stand to get your radio. You grab a can of soda from the mini-fridge you’ve started to utilize (as best you can, given it does a mediocre job at keeping things cool) before walking out onto the deck, sitting in one of the chairs you set up. “Now I am,” you tell Soonyoung as you adjust the chair so it faces the direction of the fire. You think you’re the closest lookout to it - which makes the fact that you didn’t notice it even worse - but not in any danger. The smoke paints the evening sky red-orange, washing over the purples and blues the sun used earlier as it set. “You’ve called it in?”

“Yeah, told Josh, who told the higher-ups,” Soonyoung responds, voice strangely… solemn? He sighs his next words. “They’ll probably send a crew in for suppression by morning.”

“Is there a reason you sound sad about putting a potentially dangerous forest fire out?” You tease, cracking open your soda and taking a sip. The carbonation feels good in your mouth, pops on your tongue.

“I’m not!” Soonyoung denies after some sputtering, and you laugh. “Just… ugh, looking at it - I’ve worked here every summer for the past, like, five years, and I’ve only ever seen two fires. Three, counting this one.” His voice gains a certain softness, like he’s lost in thought. “I don’t want the place to burn down or anything, but… don’t you think it’s kind of beautiful?”

It’s a little morally ambiguous, but as you look at the distant, licking flames you have to agree. In the dark, it’s vibrant, more than just ashy smoke and the smell of burning - it glows red, flushes out silhouettes of the trees in between it and you.

“I guess it is,” you hum into your radio as you stare at it.

“So. What should we name it?”

“The fire?”

“Yes,” Soonyoung says, dramatic as always. “She needs a name! I’ve always given them names, but I’ll let you do the honor this time.”

There’s something sweet in the way he offers you the chance to name it, and you try not to dwell on it too much. “Ah,” you start, thinking for a moment. “Barbara. The Barbara Fire.”

Soonyoung howls out a laugh and it’s infectious; you feel the tugging of your lips into a grin. “That is the worst thing that has ever come out of your mouth,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “We are not naming it the Barbara Fire.”

You huff out a fake whine. “Come on, it’s just Barb! She’s beautiful.”

“But deadly,” Soonyoung adds in a voice that sounds like it came straight out of a crime documentary. It makes you giggle, the two of you throwing around silly, stupid names.

“Okay, okay,” you say after a few minutes. “Then… hmm, the Hoshi Fire.”

There’s a long, long pause, and you hold down the button to your radio again. “Uh oh, is he broken?”

Soonyoung’s voice comes through, joking, but you sense a pinch of sincerity. “You want to name a raging forest fire after me… I feel like I shouldn’t be happy but I kind of am.”

You remember to push the button as you laugh, looking directly at the fire and shouting, “I hereby dub thee… the Hoshi Fire!” as loud as you can.

After the laughter dies down, for a second, there’s quiet - not awkward or for the sake of a bit, just quiet. Soonyoung’s not telling a story, you’re not giving witty comebacks. It’s just the two of you and the fire, alone in the forest.

It breaks eventually. Soft, gentle. “I’m glad you’re out here, you know,” Soonyoung says.

His words make you stiffen and relax all at once, and almost on instinct you look in the direction of his tower. You can’t really see the silhouette - the sun too far gone, taking the last of its light with it - but you know it’s there, can pinpoint exactly where it should be. You hope Soonyoung’s looking over at you, too.

And even if the reason you’re here in the first place is still a tender bruise to be pressed, you find yourself recovering a little more every day. “I am, too,” you respond. “I… I wish you were over here.”

It’s a roundabout way to say I miss you, but a part of you thinks neither of you are ready for something that explicit. You reach a hand out in the direction of Soonyoung’s tower, grasping at it like it might bring him to you. It’s not as if you can’t meet up with him again, but… between the distance and the fact that there’s an actual fire to keep your eye on, it certainly wouldn’t be easy. This is the closest you can get for now.

“I wish I was too,” Soonyoung says. You close your eyes to picture him, pretty smile and fond eyes. “We could hang out, like last time.”

“Without the radios,” you add. 

“We could, um… you know.”

His words make you giggle, and you feel a little lucky that you’re not holding down the button. Your heart is pounding in your chest, nervous but stable, secure, as you reply. A welcomed beat, even if startling.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Your soda sits forgotten, half-empty, on the floor of the deck by your feet. You don’t bother paying attention to the fire. “What could we do?”

Soonyoung groans and this time you laugh pushing the button so he can hear you, warm and affectionate. “Don’t tease me! You know what I’m talking about.”

You do. “What could we do, Soonyoung?”

There’s a pause, but you know he’s still there.

“Well,” he says eventually. “Let me tell you.”

DAY SEVENTY-SIX.

The fire’s gotten big.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised by it - it’s a wildfire, they’re not exactly easy to contain, but seeing it up close like this is vastly different from being in a city and barely even noticing the smoke. It is larger than life out here, consuming more and more of the forest each day. The last few days you’ve spent inside due to the low visibility (though it’s not as if you take a hike every day anyways). It makes you wonder if it’s safe to stay out here.

“...Hey,”  Soonyoung radios in. “I have a question for you.”

Rationally, you know whatever it is, it can’t be that serious. But your heart picks up pace anyways, beats a little harder as you pick up your radio to respond. “Look, it was Jihoon’s idea to use the fireworks, I promise neither of us knew it would start the fire.”

Soonyoung sputters out a laugh and you match him, feeling yourself calm down. “I’ll… I’ll ask Jihoon about that later, but - I really do have something to ask you.”

You lay down in your bed, unmade and messy. “Is it… bad?”

“I don’t think so,” Soonyoung responds. “Maybe?”

“Okay…” you say, timid. “Shoot.”

“When you first got here, I asked why you took the job,” he says, and you nod to yourself, remembering the first call you got from him. “You just… never really responded. I get it if it’s, like, a touchy subject, I don’t want to pressure you at all…”

“No,” you interrupt before you realize what you’re saying. You take a deep breath, Soonyoung waits. “No, it’s probably… it might be good to talk about it. I’ll tell you.”

He murmurs an okay, tells you to take your time and you do. It’s not like you’re scared to tell him - you’ve come to trust him, you know he won’t judge you for anything that happened or think any differently of you. You’re not even sure that’s why it’s hard for you to talk about - rather than any sort of outside force that might affect you, it’s more… more of a part of you that you felt you lost. It’s more coming to terms - even after these months - and going through the motions. It’s scary to talk about disconnection, especially from the one thing you loved (love?) more than anything.

“I… write,” is how you start, looking at the ceiling of your cabin as you speak. “Or wrote, maybe? I’m an author. I have a few books published. Writing is something I’ve loved since I was so young, it’s… a part of me, really. It’s special to me.

“When I finally got a manager and a publishing company and all that official stuff, I was so excited. It was like I was finally living my dream. I wrote my first book and got it published and it did really well, so my management asked me to do another, and I did. Then they asked for one after that, and I didn’t… it felt too soon, in a way. Rushed. But I guess I did it because I had to, because I figured this just came with being a writer and not everything is what you want it to be - and I didn’t want to risk losing what I had wanted almost my entire life.”

You take a moment to steady yourself, note the tremble of your fingers and take a few deep breaths. Soonyoung waits for you, patient and kind. “It went like that for a while, and I lost touch with writing. I stopped loving the only thing I knew how to love. I was so detached from it. A few months before I took this job my manager set up a press conference for me, and I… kind of… had a breakdown. At the conference. So I’m out here to run away for a second. Be away from it all.”

The quiet that follows doesn’t make you nervous, really, but you’re still waiting for a reply of any sort. Even if it’s the common oh or it’ll be okay that you got from distant friends and relatives who didn’t know what was really going on. But Soonyoung was patient with you, so you can be patient with him.

“Have you written since?” He asks after a minute, and your eyes flash over to the journal on your desk. One page has the familiar strokes and loops of your handwriting, written after you met Soonyoung in person.

“Only once,” you respond, truthful.

“When you start to write again… will you show me?”

And for some reason the question is so tender, filled to the brim with something you want to name. It makes tears spring to your eyes as you look out over the rising fire, trying not to let your voice shake too much as you reply.

(Maybe it’s because he said when and not if, maybe it’s because he didn’t tell you it’ll be okay, maybe it’s because it’s him and not someone else telling you the same thing.)

“Yeah,” you say, letting go of the button to sniff. “Yeah, I will. If you let me see one of your dances.”

You hear Soonyoung’s smile through the radio as he tells you it’s a deal.

DAY SEVENTY-EIGHT.

For the first time since you started working, someone who isn’t Soonyoung calls you through the radio (not counting the time you radioed Jihoon to make sure he was still alive, because you only saw him once and hadn’t heard from him since then). You hear the familiar click that tells you someone’s on the station, and you’re fully expecting Soonyoung’s voice to light up your cabin the way it always does. Instead, Joshua’s voice rings through.

“You there?” He asks after a comfortable call of your name, and you pick up your radio.

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s been a while,” you respond, and Joshua hums. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve… been,” he tells you, which earns a small laugh. “Anyways, I called in to let you know that they’re having trouble controlling the fire -”

You take a look at the giant flume of smoke north of your tower, nodding to yourself. “I can see that.”

Joshua tells you to be quiet. You hear the friendly smile in his voice.

“There’ll be an evacuation team here within the next two days,” he says. “Maybe less, shouldn’t be more. They’re gonna get all the lookouts evacuated.”

Oh. Evacuation? That means… the city. Your apartment, back to your family and friends. You’d forgotten an entire world exists outside of the bubble you created for yourself.

“Okay,” you say slowly, still looking at the fire. “I assume you’ve told the other lookouts?”

“I’ve got a few more to call, but other than that, yeah, everyone’s covered. I told Soonyoung and Jihoon first,” Joshua tells you, and you blink at the fact that you didn’t even have to ask. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Yeah. Stay safe, Josh.”

You sit for a while after that, trying to cope with the feeling in your chest. You�� you feel better about everything, about writing, for sure, but. But. It’s cut short, even if only by a little over a week. You haven’t even started packing anything up - so much of you is strewn around the cabin, in the field around your tower, in the trees of the forest you hiked through. You don’t think you’re ready to say goodbye to the place you’ve made your home and the people (person, your heart whispers) with it. 

The sun starts to set and the fire grows. You sit on your bed and look at the things you’ve made your own, a sunken, unfinished emotion spreading through you. Eventually it is Soonyoung’s voice that comes from your radio, low and humorous.

“The Hoshi Fire can’t be stopped…” he murmurs, and you laugh despite the loss you feel. 

“Please,” you groan into your radio after you’ve grabbed it. “We’re getting evacuated!”

Soonyoung giggles, something mischievous that makes your heart warm with slow appreciation. “I can’t believe it’s ending so soon,” you say, standing up to walk around aimlessly.

“Yeah, the summer went by super fast, huh?” Soonyoung replies. “I’m kind of excited, though. I’ve missed a proper dance studio.”

That’s… oh. 

A current of mild surprise rolls through you and you think you physically feel your jaw drop, just a little. That - that hurt. More than you want it to, more than you think it should - but it’s... fine. You’ve only known Soonyoung for a few months, it’s not like…

You realize you haven’t responded and open your mouth on purpose this time. “I wish we could share the sentiment, Hoshi,” you joke, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff. 

If Soonyoung notices anything, he doesn’t say it. Only laughs, sweet and genuine. “I’m sure you’ll find something to yearn for just as I yearn for dance,” he says dramatically. You laugh, forced, because yeah, you will. Maybe you already have.

DAY EIGHTY.

Evacuation day.

Last day in your tower. Last day in the forest. Last day of the job you took to escape, to heal. It’s spent packing up the things you brought with you, throwing away everything else. Joshua said helicopters would be touching down at two points - Twin Peaks lookout and Mule Point lookout. Twin Peaks is Soonyoung’s tower, and if you planned it out right, you could probably get there and leave with him.

You tell yourself that the reason you can’t is because Mule Point is closer. Safer. They’re evacuating you for a reason.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil, you think, grabbing your radio from its charging port. “Hi.”

“So,” Soonyoung says. For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems awkward. “Evacuation day.”

“Yessir…”

“What evacuation point are you hiking to?”

You pause, hesitate like you’re about to say something you shouldn’t. “Mule Point,” you manage to get out. “It’s closer,” you say after, your brain telling you to justify it, explain.

“What did the Hoshi Fire ever do to you?” Soonyoung huffs out through a laugh, and it sounds so unaffected that you feel that ache from before again. After a second, he adds, “so… this’ll be the last we talk. At least for a while.”

That realization hits you like a brick and the sting behind your eyes seems normal - regardless of whatever was built between you and Soonyoung or what lead you out here in the first place, it’s so sad that it’s ending. “Yeah,” you say quietly. Everything is packed, you just need to get hiking. “I, um. Is it cheesy to say thank you?”

“Maybe,” Soonyoung chuckles. “But it’ll also make me feel really good, so…”

You feel yourself calm down and let out your own small giggle. Maybe it was always meant to end this way, a little too soon, a little too sad. “Really… thanks, Soonyoung. I think it would’ve been worse for me if I got the silence I came out here for. I’m glad I had you to talk to.”

“Thank you, too,” Soonyoung says back. “I hope… you write again. I’ll talk to you later.”

The mention of it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, and you feel the smallest of smiles on your lips. “Yeah. Later.”

The radio clicks off and that’s the last you hear from Soonyoung.

EPILOGUE.

It’s hard to come back.

From nature, from Soonyoung - everything, really. To go from trees and fires and talking every night back to car horns, busy sidewalks and your own apartment. It’s weird to wake up and not see the immediate shine of the sun through your windows. But you come back, slowly get used to the life you had before.

And you start writing.

Given - you get back in August only start writing again in October, but you write. Little by little, page after page. Maybe not every day, like you used to, but the words are back and they are eager to get out, leave their mark as your work. You stand up to your management (with Minghao’s support) and take control of your own writing schedule. The pressure from before leaves. Writing becomes special more than ever, returns as the one thing you never get truly tired of.

Minghao asks about the job, your summer. You tell him it was easy and peaceful, and that you’re thankful for the time. You mention the other lookouts. You mention Soonyoung. Only in passing, though. 

(Minghao definitely suspects something, but even if he asked, you wouldn’t tell him much.)

Sometimes you allow yourself to think of him - when you got back, you looked for a Soonyoung in the multiple dance studios in the city, but since you didn’t have a last name or any proper title, nothing came up. After that, you gave up, but he still shows up in your thoughts from time to time, bright blonde hair (the roots growing in) and glowing smile. It’s cold out, now, so you hope he isn’t getting sick and that he’s staying warm.

You’re reminded of just how cold it is when you have to brace the outside world to get your mail. There’s not even any wind, just an undeniable cold, and it makes your nose burn and eyes water as you walk the short trek to your mailbox. You find your slot and push your key in, unlocking it and gathering your mail. Most of it is junk, but you could have sworn something you ordered was supposed to come today -

“Excuse me?”

You turn your head to the voice and find a man walking towards you, his head turned down towards a small piece of paper. His voice sounds familiar, but you figure it must just be a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in a while. You turn your body to him, waiting for him to look up from the note so you can place a name on him. “Do you know where I can find an author…”

He looks up.

It’s Soonyoung.

He looks a little different - his hair is shorter, dyed black instead of the platinum you remember from last July. But it’s definitely him. The longer you stare at each other the wider his smile gets, and you stand, speechless. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. Your heart starts to race, warms you up beneath your jacket.

“Found you,” Soonyoung grins. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You did.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

love you as you are ~ yungblud

word count: 1462

request?: yes!

“ Hi! How are you doing? If u are not too busy, could I request something with coworkers or friends to lovers - Dominic Harrison with insecure reader? (don’t mean to romantizice insecurities, reading things like that makes me feel less alone sometimes and I am pretty sure it happens to other ppl too) Stay safe, much love 🖤🖤”

description: in which his life long friend constantly compares herself to the girls he dates, and he’s finally starting to notice

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing, insecurities

masterlist

My worst bad habit was looking at pictures of Dom with his girlfriend’s and finding a flaw for myself in all of them.

That’s what I was doing when he called one day. New pictures had arisen of him and Ashley, although he insisted that they weren’t back together and probably would never get back together. They seemed cozy, and the smile on his face was so wide and bright, it was obvious he was happy with her. He always had been happy with her.

Her eyes were so pretty, her skin was flawless, she could pull off any hairstyle or color, her style was constantly on point, she...

My ringing phone brought me out of my daze. A picture of Dom smiling filled my screen along with his name. I couldn’t help but compare that smile with the one in the picture with Ashley. Was it as wide? Was he as happy?

“Hello?” I finally answered.

“(Y/N)!” Dom exclaimed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Just chilling at home.”

“Great! I’m coming over. Be there in five minutes!”

I was confused. The pictures I was looking at were supposedly recent, but he was here? Did that mean the pictures were fake? Or...was Ashley here?

Before I could ask any questions, Dom hung up. I paced the apartment, worried that Ashley would show up with Dom. I had nothing against Ashley, she was nice and I had been a fan since before she started dating Dom. I just...I couldn’t see her with Dom like that.

Before I knew it, Dom was letting himself into my place and making himself at home. He immediately laid down on the couch and looked up at, me catching mid-pace.

“Welcome,” I said sarcastically. “I didn’t know you were home.”

He gave me a weird look. “What do you mean? We’ve been texting all week. I told you we were gonna make plans soon.”

Oh yeah, that’s right. How did I forget that?

“Why didn’t you think I was home?”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “I just saw some paparazzi pictures - ”

Dom cut me off with a groan. “Whatever it was, it’s bullshit. Paps are vultures and they’ll post any bullshit to get clicks.

I felt extremely stupid, but I was glad he didn’t seem upset or anything. As I sat down next to him, though, he asked, “What were the pictures of?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Do I tell him the truth? What would he think if I told him it was pictures of him and Ashley?

“Nothing,” I responded with a shrug.

Dom gave me another look. “Okay, it was obviously not nothing. You can tell me, (Y/N), I’ve probably read worse about myself.”

I sighed heavily, knowing Dom wasn’t just going to drop this. “It was pictures of you and Ash, and it was saying you two were back together again.”

Dom’s immediate reaction was a loud laugh, which caught me off guard at first, but I soon realized that his laugh meant that he and Ashley weren’t together, and he was right in saying that they probably never would be together at all.

“I haven’t seen Ash in months,” he admitted. “She’s off dating someone else now, if I was spotted out with her, it’s only as friends.”

For some reason, knowing that Dom was potentially still friends with Ashley put me back in my down mood. They were friends, but they used to date. He didn’t look at her the way he looked at me. I was a really just a friend, but she was his beautiful ex-girlfriend. He probably still loved her, I wouldn’t blame him, she was probably the best person in the world. She was so nice and kind and caring, she was so sweet to me. She...

“(Y/N),” Dom said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. He pulled me out of my trance and I looked at him, trying to pretend nothing had happened. “Where did you go then?”

“Nowhere,” I responded. “I guess I just zoned out, it happens. What were you saying?”

He was looking at me hard, almost studying my face. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? You just...you seem off today.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “It’s nothing, can we drop it?”

We both went silent for a moment. I couldn’t handle it, there were so many thoughts running through my head that I needed a distraction. I turned on the TV and put on a random station that was playing some movie I had no interest in. I sat back and pretended to be invested in what was going on, but in reality, I was just trying to keep myself from thinking about Dom and Ashley.

I could feel Dom’s eyes on me. He was watching me intently, waiting for a crack. Dom knew me better than anyone had, and I knew that he knew when I was upset. I was hoping he’d leave it be and just bring up something for the two of us to do, but instead, when he did finally speak, he asked, “Is it because of me and Ash?”

I tried to hold back any signs that he was right, but I knew it was no use. I sighed again and looked down at my lap. “Not really...but kind of?”

Dom tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with Ash?”

“Nothing, that’s the problem!” I responded. “She’s so perfect! God, I wish I had just a fraction of her perfection.”

I glanced up at Dom and saw that he was starting to understand. “You can’t compare yourself to Ash, (Y/N). You’re two different people, with different personalities and different...well everything. You can’t actually be comparing yourself to her.”

“I can’t help it,” I admitted, tears starting to prick my eyes. “You always date the most beautiful girls, both inside and out, and I can’t help but compare myself to them because...”

Dom moved closer to me, placing one of his hands on top of mine. I couldn’t get the words out. How do you admit to your best friend that you’ve had feelings for them for so long without weirding them out? Was it even possible to do that and maintain the friendship?

“(Y/N), you’re perfect as you are,” he said before I could finish my sentence. “You don’t have to compare yourself to anyone, let alone the girls I date. In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve been around much longer than those girls, and there’s a reason for that. It’s because you’re a genuine person, and you care so much for me, and, this may be awkward, but I think you’re incredibly cute. I love you as you are, I’d hate to see you turn into someone you’re not.”

I couldn’t help but scoff at his choice of wording. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what?”

“That you love me. It gives me false hope.”

Dom was confused a moment before he finally put two and two together. “What if I mean it in more than just a friendly way?”

I glared at him this time. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N)! What if I like you too? What if I always have? What would you say?”

I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Why would I? He’s never even given me a sign that he could potentially like me. Saying this now, especially with the conversation we were having, just felt like some sort of sick joke he was playing on me.

But, as I looked into those eyes that I had loved for so long, I could tell he was being genuine. Had he really liked me all this time?

Before I could say anything else, Dom pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “You’re perfect as you are, (Y/N). Who you are is what I love the most about you. Please don’t compare yourself to others, especially not to any of the girls I’ve dated.”

“You really mean that?”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “Of course I do.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I really like you, Dom.”

“I like you, too, (Y/N).”

We fell back into a comfortable silence then. I wasn’t quite sure what this meant for us. We had both just admitted to having feelings for one another, so what comes next?

In that moment, I didn’t care. All I cared about was being in Dom’s arms, my ear pressed against his chest as I listened to his steady heartbeat. I was just happy to have him there with me, and to finally have that truth off my chest.

[hetaestoniahq]

For the ask game maybe PolEst and 16.? Only if you want to of course!

Oh heck yes! Hehe giving historical angst potential with that prompt. Sorry not sorry for that you gave me this prompt not me! Sorry if it's a bit ooc, never written Poland before, I hope it's any good ^^

Prompt 16: "It could be worse"

It hurts.

The Livonian war had been raging on for more than over two decades now, and Estonia doesn't know how much longer he can take it.

Russia had been dominating his land, the Russia that he can't stand one bit. Those two have been enemies since as far as he can remember and now he's having success in possibly taking him. He's already gotten himself to be securely partially belonging to Sweden but how much of that will be enough? Will Sweden even hold his word? It wouldn't be the first time someone didn't.

And that's not forgetting about Poland and Lithuania either. He's had history with Lithuania before, not the most positive of sorts, he doesn't have the scar to prove that anymore but it will always remain written in history.

Poland though? Not much, his hopes aren't high though.

Estonia and Latvia have been getting more and more injuries as the war has been going on, the casualties of their people are visible in themselves as they've clearly become weak, and worries of how long they can last have arisen. No matter if they're directly involved, if they get onto the battlefield, they're people are still affected by this war, and he's sick of it.

Earlier he had tended to Latvia's injury, this time around they had managed to actually get caught in a battle and get hurt, by now they had returned back home and gotten into the process of recovering. Now, he was dealing with his own injury, alone.

Courland did get worried about him, but Estonia has pushed her away, she has problems of her own to deal with.

Even if wounds have been common for the Estonian during these tougher times, it doesn't mean he has managed to actually become numb to the pain, still subtly flinching everytime as he's in the process of bandaging his arm.

"There you are Estonia! I've like, been looking for you." A polish voice he has been forced to get familiar with spoke up. Estonia had to hold back his heavy sigh, he wanted to be alone.

"What is it?" Estonia spoke, keeping together his calm attitude as he only briefly glanced at the blonde, focusing on what he's doing.

"Liet asked to like, go get you so we can discuss what's gonna happen next." Poland explained, approaching the weaker blonde.

Drag me into a battle in a state like this and I'll cause another uprising Estonia coldly thought to himself. One thing he noticed in Poland's behaviour is how he seems to act almost casual, calling Lithuania by a nickname and being decently cheerful even when things are grim, does this guy know how to be serious?

"Hey let me help you with that." Estonia was not quick enough to realise and react before Poland's rather gentle hands were suddenly on his arm, grabbing the bandage roll to take over the process of wrapping the wound.

Get your hands off me! The Baltic Finn wasn't able to say it out loud as he more so stared at the pole actually taking care of him for once. He doesn't like being touched by people he isn't close to but this was new. Does Poland actually care? It seems a bit baffling since from what Estonia has seen so far, the Pole seems to be rather selfish sometimes, not even listening to the country he's meant to be partners with in this Commonwealth.

"All done, come on now." Poland stepped away, heading towards leaving the room he has found him in. Estonia sighed as he got up, and immediately he felt heavy. He was so tired, yet he's still been unable to get any sleep recently. It's just adding to his already present weakness and he hates it. What's worse for him is the fact it's going to the point that it's harder to hide, as evident by Poland's expression quickly changing to surprise when turning to look at him.

"Oh gosh you look absolutely terrible - like you're about to collapse!" Poland commented, actually walking over to his side. Estonia didn't bother to try and stop the Pole from invading his personal space.

"You shouldn't be surprised, look at all that's been going on." Estonia pointed out in a rather monotone tone, actually facing the nation with his rather cold expression.

"Well, it could be worse."

Something about that flipped something in the Estonian. There is a point, at least he isn't dead. Cracking a small smile he letting out a weak chuckle, immediately noticing the Pole's gaze almost brighten a bit from having made the Estonian smile.

"Yeah, you're right, it could be worse, Poola. "

Maybe there is some good to Poland not being so serious.

_____

Poola - the Estonian name for Poland, yes I wanted to sneak in Ed becoming a tad bit more relaxed with Poland. Sorry if the fic is not that shippy

[flying-nightwing]

Damn Him

Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!

More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 4798

Warnings: None

Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought

You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.

Call me when you can - B.

Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.

"(Y/N), how are you?"

"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"

"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"

"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.

"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"

"As soon as you can"

"Aight, see ya"

You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.

You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.

You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.

"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"

"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"

"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"

You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.

"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.

"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"

You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"

"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"

"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"

"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.

"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"

He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"

"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.

Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.

"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"

"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"

"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"

"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"

Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"

"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"

"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"

Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"

"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.

"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"

This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.

"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"

"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.

You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.

"Yes?"

"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"

You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"

"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"

"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"

------

You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.

"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"

You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"

"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.

"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"

Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"

"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"

"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"

You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"

"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"

You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.

"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"

Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"

"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"

"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"

For once? Was he serious?

You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"

"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"

"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.

"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.

He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.

"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.

"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.

"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"

"Crystal clear" 

"Good. Let's go"

While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.

"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.

"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"

You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now. 

"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"

"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"

"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"

You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"

"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"

"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"

"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"

"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"

"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"

"I was just reminding you"

"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"

"Come on, that's not–"

He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.

"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"

You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.

"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"

"Aleka" You shook her hand.

"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”

You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"

"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"

Oh shit.

"It's B" You replied instantly.

"Bee?"

"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"

"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"

She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"

"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.

"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"

You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"

"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"

"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"

"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”

You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"

"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"

You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.

"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.

"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"

You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.

"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.

"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"

"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"

"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"

You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"

He pouted.

"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"

"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"

You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"

The bright grin returned.

"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.

"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.

"See, I told you"

This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.

"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.

"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"

They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.

"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.

"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"

Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.

"That would be absolutely lovely"

[scriptaed]

his side, her side | 11:11 P.M.

genre: angst/fluff/implied smut; 

pairing: reader x jungkook;

length: 4.3k;

synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.

a/n: alternatively: his side, her side pt. 11;

her side;

“What?!” 

Your fists slam on the counter much more forceful than necessary when you hear the words Jeon Jungkook slip from Yezi’s lips but, luckily for you, the vibrations from the music blasting through the cramped club that had overfilled the capacity hours ago are enough to drown you out. Another large gulp of liquor downed under the influence of yet another wave of unsolicited sorrow, which had ironically arisen by the holy glass itself, submerges you in a somber state you had long sought for amidst what seemed to be a fragile girl wielding an unbreakable shield they called “strength.”

“I said,” your friend repeats as she leans in but nevertheless screams aloud, “isn’t that your coworker a-k-a diehard crush, Jeon Jungkook?!”

“No,” you groan, slapping her arm with a grotesque look on your face as you scream right back at her through your strained throat, “I meant I know what you said and, damn, are you trying to expose me to the entire world!”

Yezi only gives you an unimpressed frown of impertinence, “excuse me, but you’re the one who’s yelling right now!”

Rolling your eyes and succumbing to the scorching heat in your cheeks, your face collapses into the palms of your two hands that immediately begin rubbing circles into your temples. The toxins in your blood have your head throbbing and you almost feel as if your controller has been handed to an unknown being or, rather, substance. 

“Ugh,” you mutter through gritted teeth, “I can’t believe he’s still following me around! Even on my very last day!”

“Following you?” your friend almost chokes on her water as she pokes a finger into your hollow head. “The alcohol must have really eroded whatever little was left in here, huh?” 

“Then,” you sway your head much too quickly, for your entire body nearly tumbles off the stool before you caught yourself with a heavy step to the right, “explain how he always ends up at the same street, the same cafe, the same bar, and, and, and how he’s always at the same place at the same time as me, and how no matter how hard I try to avoid him, he’s always right there? Just waiting for me at the end of whatever independent paths we take?”

Yezi can only blink her eyes blankly at you. Her look is an ambiguous mix of concern, having witnessed a crazy lady babble on about the epitome of destiny, and a tinge of awe, a temporary moment of envy after being struck with a story seemingly straight out of a fairytale. Without a clear explanation to your nonsensical albeit pristinely truthful question, your friend finds herself in the same position as you had been just half a year ago: at a loss for words. 

Clearing your throat to recover from your outburst, a moment you had internalized and failed to bury like you had so promised to yourself, you lean against the counter once again with a head that hangs low and a pair of eyes that wander across the room. 

Despite your eternally intertwined future with the very man beholding your gaze and every ounce of your current attention, you had somehow managed to abandon the shared memories in the past months… or so you thought; because you here, having the false pretension of leaving what you denied to call anything but fleeting infatuation, yet feeling as though time had never passed at all. 

Butterflies fluttering, heart pulsing, and an incessant sick twisting of insecurities shoved somewhere in the back of your conscience—you’re right there back in the pool where the start to your end was born. 

“Did you tell him?”

“About what?”

“About you leaving the company.”

“Oh, no,” you simply mumble, eyes quickly flickering to the tabletop after spotting the familiar woman beside him. Still, curiosity gets the best of you when you can’t help but peak at the two, the female seemingly much more distressed and the male hanging his head low apologetically, before you, too, hang your head low in shame. “Sorry. You must be sick of hearing about him.”

“No, it’s fine,” Yezi’s voice softens as she places a comforting hand over yours. “You okay? About Jieun, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you shrug, chuckling, “it’s… it’s whatever. I got over it months ago.” 

Your friend nods hesitantly, “...you think they’re fighting? 

“...I don’t know. Not my business either way.”

Your words are like a self-inflicted attack. How shameful is it of you to speak from a feigned moral high ground? His business has never been your business—that is an unequivocal truth. So why is it that you feel the way you do? Prying, hurting, and, dare you admit it, somewhat rejoicing over the downfall of what had ended you and him. 

 And just as you down another glass of liquor, nearly collapsing backwards when you throw your head back, you catch Jieun pointing a finger—a somewhat accusatory albeit much softer than one thrown by a witchy nemesis—at you before she grabs her purse and runs out of the club in tears. Jungkook, on the other hand, remains still in his chair with lowered eyes fixated to the empty stool beside him, as though repaying whatever debt he owed to the ghost of a woman who had long left his side. 

“Oh my God, did you just see—”

“—Lee Yeji!” someone shrills and you have to crane your neck to gander at the stranger who had just appeared out of thin air. The slight breeze of her beeline past you hits you seconds late—a recurring sign to you and your reproaching intake limit. “Is that you?!”

“Linzy!” your friend jumps to her feet and joins in on the stranger’s screams as well as small hops. “Oh my God, how long has it been?!”

“Where have you been all this time?!”

“Here in this boring city, duh,” Yezi bursts into a cackle. “How have you been?! You still hung over your ex?” 

The lack of an introduction would have been painfully awkward for you as you stared at the fond reunion between two friends, but thanks to the alcohol stirring your mind that had floated elsewhere and the blood running through your heated system, it’s almost as if you’re just a member of audience, watching another crappy chick flick. 

“First of all, I’ve moved onto another man. And second of all, rude,” the woman named Linzy throws her head back in a fit of laughter. Honestly, watching the hysteria between the two has you smiling against your rested hand; and if it weren’t for her averted attention to you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until you quickly hid the ditzy smile on your face. “I’m sorry, is it okay if I borrow Yezi for a second? We haven’t talked in sooo long.”

“Oh no,” you quickly shake your head, gesturing them toward the dance floor, “go right ahead. I think I can do without her constant jabs at my nonexistent love life.” 

“Oh my God,” Linzy gapes, “she does that to you, too?!”

“Hey, you two can be friends but not over a common dislike for me, okay?” Yezi warns with a wary finger before joining the two of you in a heap of laughter. Patting your shoulder and leaning in, your friend squeezes you lightly, “I’ll be right back in ten minutes, alright? Wait for me here. If something comes up and you have to leave, text me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, will do, mom” you shoo her away, “I’ll have you know I’m a grown ass adult. Now go and scream your head off.”

“What?” she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re a young adult who still can’t handle her alcohol?” 

“I said,” you raise your voice in the midst of cackles, “go and scream your head off!”

Luckily for you, your friend whirls around and skips off to join the black silhouette of a sweaty crowd going at it on the dance floor before she could catch the proof of her aforementioned premonition; because only five minutes after averting your eyes from the empty stool beside you and downing another glass or two in a vain attempt to distract yourself from checking the presence of the boy across from you, a wave overtakes you and your lightheadedness takes a turn for the worse. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol that brings out the irrational side of you or maybe your senses had truly been heightened or maybe you’re just imagining things, but you swear a pair of resilient, watchful eyes reciprocate your occasional peak to the other side—and even though you know it would be another step toward a ticking time bomb, you just wish you’re right. 

You’re hoping for a miracle to happen, for him to come up to you, for you to muster enough courage to strike a conversation, or for fate to brush off your accursed wish to finally untangle your paths from his; but when your eyes peek upward once again, your heart sinks at the empty chair where he had once sat, swirling his glass with those boldly peering eyes of his. Sighing, one swivel in your seat and a slight sway too hard to the left, you nearly hurl yourself into the arms of the girl beside you only to find yourself in someone else’s. 

A pair of sturdy hands twice the size of yours hold you steadily and it only takes you a glance to the hands on your left shoulder along with the familiar heftiness of his built chest against your back for you to know exactly whose hold you had allowed yourself into. 

And for once, you’re thankful to the little antics pulled by fate itself. 

“Hey,” he utters, peering down at you from above.

“Oh,” you manage to say, head leaning against his chest as you crane your neck to stare at the face that hovers above yours. “It’s Jungkook.” 

The little crooked smile on his pressed lips have you flashing the goofiest grin at him—and you know it’s the goofiest of all your grins, but you’re helpless under the sway of his magnetic presence. 

“Still can’t handle liquor, I see.” 

“Shut up,” you laugh much more than elicited, “are you saying you can drink now? After, what, six months?”

The boy shrugs smugly, “maybe. I’m a grown ass adult now.”

“You? An adult?” you can’t help but laugh at the bewildered grin of disbelief plastered across his face. Something about the high of the liquor and the constant stream of background noise that drowns you out has your words slipping from your lips with utter ease. For once, you’re neither bashful nor wary of how you carry yourself in front of him. It’s refreshing albeit all the more worrying when you consider all that you’ve left buried away from him. “So? What’re you doing here, grown ass adult Jeon Jungkook?”

The smile on his face fades as he mutters, “nothing, really.”

“Really?” you quirk a brow. “Where’s your girlfriend, Jieun?” 

“...she’s not my girlfriend,” he responds flatly, “...anymore.” 

“Oh,” you can only utter in shock, speaking exactly what flashes across your mind, “fuck, I’m screwed.”

Jungkook frowns with knitted brows, “what?” 

“I meant,” you quickly assert, realizing your errs, “I meant I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Yeah,” he smirks, scoffing at you impudently. “You shouldn’t have.”

A comfortable silence befalls the two of you in the midst of rowdy hundreds—well, until yet another word slips your mind… in addition to your lips. 

“...heartbreaker.”

“What?” 

“Nothing.”

The widened grin of mischief that stretches from ear to ear has you mirroring that goofy grin of him as you can’t help but become enraptured by the facial profiles of the charming man just several  inches from you. If this were sober you, you would have been much more distant, emotionally and physically; but the sway of the night has you completely under its control. 

Plus, you’ve given away all your last fucks long ago when you decided to aspire for a job in another city nearby. Maybe this is your last chance to finally get rid of what had left your chest heavy so long ago.

“Well, I’m just going to grab my friend before I pass—oh shit,” you curse as you nearly tumble to the floor, hands sprawled out and hair forming curtains around your lowly hanging head just as he catches you and brings you back to your feet. Stumbling over your heels, your hands grasp tightly onto his as you try to shake the locks of hair out of your shrouded vision. “Sorry, I mean, thanks—” you laugh “—for saving me from eating shit.”

“Holy fuck,” the boy remarks, chuckling worriedly, “you’re a mess. Go home.”

“I’ll have you know,” you emphasize, sing-songing at this point, “that I am—” you point a finger against his chest and his eyes flicker in amusement over your jab “—going home, just need to… find my friend.”

“Where’s your friend?”

“There,” you throw a hand off into the space somewhere toward the floor.

“Where the fuck is ‘there?’”

“There!”

Jungkook frowns, “where??”

“I said,” you’re basically whining as you jump up and down while holding him for stability and, luckily, he holds you even tighter, “there!!”

“Holy shit,” he shakes his head, furrowing his brows and laughing in disbelief, “fuck this, I’ll take you home.”

“Shut up, nope,” you adamantly shake your head, trying to toss his hands to the side only to nearly trip over your own feet once again. 

To your rescue, once again, Jungkook throws your right arm over his shoulders with one firm hand and another much gentler, chivalrous hand over to your left waist, careful not to invade your personal space. Laughing at how ironic the night has turned out to be, somehow ending up in the arms and closer than ever to the man you had sworn to have gotten over less than an hour ago, you give into the force of gravity and fate as your head rests helplessly against his chest. 

“Just, just,” you struggle to remember what you wanted to say, “just admit you want to use this as an… an excuse to bring me home.” 

The boy only chuckles under his breath as he leads you out of the doors and a blast of fresh, night air refreshes your complexion, “whatever gets you home safe.”

“Ah,” you sigh, a puff of white escaping into the air just as he waves a hand out to tail a cab, “I hate it when you do that.” 

“Do what?” he arches a brow. 

“That,” you say in a fit of frustration over your lack of constraint but continue nonetheless, knowing well just how long this night will haunt you for the sleepless nights ahead, “when you act all gentlemanlike with me...”

“Is that a bad thing…?”

“Yes!” you exclaim just as a cab halts by the sidewalk. “I hate how you treat me so well!” 

“The fuck,” he utters under his breath, holding you steady in one hand and opening the door to the cab with another, “fine, get in by yourself, then.”

Caught off guard by the loss of his firm hold, you hesitate, suddenly gripping onto his hands tighter than ever as you take a step down the sidewalk, “wait—”

“—that’s what I thought,” he quips before suddenly picking you up into his arms, your legs dangling freely in the air without the burden of your weight, and gently placing you down into the middle backseat. Your head is spinning at this point from the spur of events and from literally being swept off the feet. You would have been foolish to deny the weight in your chest that settles when you realize your whimsical night has come to end when, to your surprise, the boy gets into the seat right beside you. With a loud huff and a slam of the now closed door, Jungkook speaks, “Providence Street, please.”

He still remembers where you live.

Gaping at him in the full darkness of the backseat with the countless golden streetlights that pass by like flickering beacons of warmth, a fleeting albeit numerous opportunity to gaze at the apple of your eye in its full glory, and gulping when you notice him staring right back at you with those twinkling, unreadable eyes of his, you finally acknowledge that you really couldn’t care less if he catches you staring… which he does. 

And it’s that this moment, this unconquerable, fleeting, otherworldly moment of an unbreakable high as your head shuffles to the side along with waves of the bumpy ride and your eyes spot the arrival of that one magical hour, one magical minute, 11:11, that an epiphany dawns upon you. 

Something will inevitably ensue tonight and, whatever it may be, whether you confess or not, you just wish you could finally let bygones be bygones, as the two of you should have been in the first place. 

-

his side;

If there’s one thing this man did not expect from a night that has thus far been nothing but dread, it would be crossing paths with the rare one who could etch stars into his skies out of nothing.

“What?” Jungkook can’t help but crack a crooked grin at the goofiest grin adorning his star’s’ beet red cheeks. 

“You’re doing it again!” she hollers into the front of the cab rather than the subject at hand.

“Doing what?” 

“It. You’re doing…” she pumps a fist at her chest twice, “things again!” 

“You’ve...” Jungkook pauses, looking her up and down with concern overshadowed by bemuse because, well, look at her, he chuckles to himself, so gauche in her own adorable attempts at daintiness, “...lost it.” 

“I honestly think I have,” she laughs with a hand to what he figures must be an overwhelming lightheadedness. 

There must be something about the heat in her cheeks that run down her bare neck and along the dress straps that had slipped from her collarbones, something about the first recognition of a level vulnerability that she had never bared to him before, because even he could peer at her and her unreachable high that is cloud nine, all whilst beside her. Ice-thawing and sun-basking, he could only watch in admiration as a magic stronger than any drink spurs her forward; and he could tell it would take her little to nothing to muster the courage to just jump and fall…

…and when she leans in to whisper, he has an inkling of tonight’s impending stain. 

“Do you wanna hear a secret?”

Quirking a brow at her, he remarks, “only if it actually makes sense.”

“Okay,” she giggles before quickly adding, “you’re really not dating her anymore, right?”

“...no?” Jungkook answers, confused. “Why—”

“—cause I won’t tell you if you are!” she exclaims playfully, throwing her hands out into the air. She continues on her babbling before he could even react. “Oh, and I’m not doing this because I want to take advantage of your breakup. Oops, was that too much too soon? Well, I’m only telling you because I want to get over it. Don’t act on it, okay?”

“The fuck?” he utters with a raised brow, softly chuckling. “Uh, on second thought, I think I’ll pass—”

“—promise me you believe me when I say I don’t feel this way anymore!”

Having never seen a more childlike side to a rather dependable colleague he once knew, Jungkook can’t help but laugh in disbelief, “feel what way?!” 

She smiles heavy-lidded at the sheer confusion plastered across his frown, seemingly coming in and out of consciousness. It’s a smile that could only come from a dreamer doing everything they wished they had done yet could never come to have done; and when he locks gazes with hers, it’s almost as if the two had drifted elsewhere from their bodies and are now merely watching themselves in the scene before the grand confession of a romcom through the fourth wall. 

With a finger wagging at him, beckoning for him to lean forward, which he does reluctantly, he can’t quite believe what slips from her lips. 

“You’re so good looking.”

...and when the two of them had registered her words, neither of them budge. Jungkook remains still, ears next to his lips and showing the most evident falter in his usual apathetic demeanor through the way at which his ears redden with each passing second. Slapping a hand against his chest, she pushes him back into his seat and chimes cheerfully, “like sooooooooo good looking! Don’t tell them I said this, but every girl at work thinks you’re handsome and I hate it cause it’s. so. true.” 

“You’re,” the boy scoffs in disbelief, blinking blankly at you because: one, he had never heard of such rumors and two, he had never seen her speak so brazenly, “you’re going crazy.”

“I am and what?” she challenges, slapping his chest again as he sits there blinking helplessly, “It’s your fault you look like this!”

“What even—”

“—and what about that kiss?!” she throws her hands up again. “Why did you even kiss me if you were going to date someone else later? Huh?!”

He never thought the day would come for her to mention that kiss… especially not tonight.

“And why are you always so nice to me?”

He chuckles at her less than threatening lashing, “am I supposed to be mean to you?”

“Well,” she scoffs in disbelief, “why are you literally everywhere I go then? You stalking me or something?”

“This is fucking hysterical,” Jungkook cracks a lopsided grin of mischief, pulling a phone out of his pocket. Throwing a peace sign at the camera, he pans the camera between him and the star of the night. “It’s January 11, 2020. A sober Jeon Jungkook checking in and, here, we have a messed up Y/N. Say hi—”

“—I am not messed up!” she interjects, pointing an accusing finger at the camera. “The only reason I’m messed up is because of you! And you know what’s even worse?”

“What could possibly be worse than you waking up to watch this horrific video?” 

Flailing her arms, she exclaims in a huff of frustration, “you don’t even know how badly you messed me up, Jungkook!” 

He raises a brow, raising the phone to get a better angle of the two of you. He doesn’t know why but his grip tightens. “Yeah?”

“You know,” she begins, flopping her hands into the air again.

“What now?” he chuckles, completely bemused as he watches your drunken state through his phone screen; and through his peripherals, he could catch the utterly enraptured grin of his in the corner of his screen and he just knew: he would be watching this special little clip over and over. “Just wait ‘til you watch this video—“

but her voice comes in a loud frustrated huff, a final remark cooked up in for relentlessly long years of a sheep, forgiving herself for losing sights of her captor

“—I really liked you, Jeon Jungkook!”

He freezes. 

Silence befalls the cab. 

But, like she always does, she never stops to wait for him. 

“I mean, I really,” she emphasizes adamantly, as if he had failed to hear her when it’s anything but, “reaaaaaaaally liked you!” 

Head rolling back against the headrest as the cab comes to a stop at the red light, she closes her eyes as she persists on her self-heist and blurts out frustratingly, “but you didn’t even know! And if you did, you didn’t even seem to fucking care!” 

The boy wishes he could speak. Hell, he even curses at himself for staying still the way he does now… but, what should he even say? After pining for many months, falling, acknowledging, despairing and getting over the star he had always thought to be out of reach only to discover she had been within a drink, a night, a confession’s reach, how should he feel? 

What good would it do to now recognize a love line that could have been but never came to be for the two? 

Lowering his phone and stopping the recording, a bittersweet upturn of one corner of his lips lingers just as his thumb does over “delete.” 

And after all the fond memories the two had shared within the span of a year, the gatekeeper figures maybe, for the girl’s sake, he would be the sole witness to all evidence of tonight. 

“Hellooo?” she cranes her neck to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Did you hear me? I said I like—I mean, liked—you.”

“I heard you,” he presses a finger against the spot between her brows, scrunching his nose by her breath that reeks of alcohol as his tap has her head tipping onto her left shoulder. The girl only groans in protest because, apparently, she lacks the energy to defy him physically. Gazing at her from afar, a wave of adoration overwhelms him and he can’t help but chuckle under his breath. Discarding himself of his jacket, he drapes it over her bare shoulders. The boy leans in closer with one hand placed to her cheek, gently lulling her back to the right until her head lies comfortably in the crook of his left shoulder; and when he speaks, he speaks lowly but clearly, “I just wish you had told me earlier.”

The rest of the car ride proceeds in silence but never had there been more words than all that had been said tonight.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 2, chapter 1

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Content warnings: sex work mention, one noncon kiss, minor noncon touch (suggestive but not sexual)

Morgan was deeply uncomfortable. The caravan ride had been entertaining, at least for him. Cain was delighted to have an attentive audience, and after divulging all he knew about the events currently unfolding - Diablo's corruption and influence spreading, the dark wanderer last seen heading east and his possible motives - he had expounded at length on his theories about the forces of Heaven and Hell and what moves they might make next. He also shared tales of the time he'd spent in the desert cities in his younger days, and anything else that happened across his mind. It seemed he had an unlimited capacity for storytelling. Morgan liked it, content to absorb as much knowledge as he could.

However, once they'd reached their destination, they had been almost immediately ushered to the palace by a taciturn guard armed with a very sturdy-looking spear. Cain had already slipped away, ostensibly in pursuit of an old acquaintance, but both Blaise and Morgan found themselves visiting the sultan unexpectedly.

Upon their arrival, the man, who introduced himself as Jerhyn, had actually been quite friendly. He had somehow heard about their defeat of Andariel and was eager to pay for their assistance with problems that had arisen in his city. The mercenary guild was struggling to maintain their ranks in the face of increasing demonic activity. Blaise had agreed to join them readily; working together with a group to combat monsters and demons was well within her comfort zone. Morgan was trying to delicately express his preference to work alone, but the sultan was being insistent and it was proving difficult to argue.

The problem he was experiencing was rooted in the attack the harem guild had sustained weeks earlier, prompting Jerhyn to offer the members shelter within his spacious palace. Priests of Rathma had no particular rules with regards to celibacy, but surrounded as he was now by women and men in various states of undress, Morgan found himself wishing they did. He'd never managed to grasp the allure of intimate relations. He was aware of it as a possible motivation for the actions of others - there was a long list of those - but he'd resigned himself to simply not understanding it. The guild members flocked around Jerhyn, all flashing jewels and rustling silks. It was impossible to look at the man without seeing an astonishing amount of bare flesh. Of course Morgan was familiar with the human body, had helped with preparations for some of the more involved burial rites, but this was different. It felt like an invasion of privacy, despite the fact that the display was clearly intentional. His discomfort was making it difficult to negotiate.

Blaise, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself, gazing around with frank admiration. When Jerhyn finally relented, allowing them until the morning to come to a final decision, she grinned wolfishly.

"Does that mean we get to spend the night here?"

Jerhyn smiled indulgently. "Of course, if you wish it. You may stay as long as you like. Any of the companions here can show you to the guest chambers. Please, enjoy yourselves."

Morgan stood and bowed politely before turning to leave. A heavy hand came down on his shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" Blaise hissed next to his ear.

"To find an inn," he whispered back. Her grip tightened and he fought the urge to pry her fingers off of him. It would not be wise to make a scene so soon after their introduction, he reminded himself. No matter that he was already uncomfortable to start with, and it was only getting worse.

"You know it's incredibly rude to turn down an invitation like this, right," she pointed out. He... yes, he did know that, now that he thought about it. The overwhelming desire to be anywhere else was impeding his ability to remember all the rules of social interaction. He did not outwardly protest as Blaise steered him back toward the crowd of concubines. "Have a little fun for once," she said at a more normal volume, pushing him into the waiting embrace of a pale, slender young woman before turning away to mingle.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart," the woman purred, running her hand down his chest. He tried not to shrink away from the contact. "Let me show you to your room. Don't worry, you don't have to be shy with me." She flashed him a dazzling smile.

"Thank you," he managed. She took him by the hand and led him down a staircase and up a corridor while he alternated between looking at his feet and looking at the ceilings. They appeared to be intricately painted tiles, but the details were lost on him.

Morgan heaved a small sigh of relief when she stepped into a room, beckoning him to follow with a wink. Finally, a respite. He opened his mouth to thank her for her guidance, but she muffled him with a kiss, pressing him into the doorway. He froze for a long, panicked second, torn between the desire to push her away and the lack of any adequately clothed spot on her body to push against. As she raised her arms to embrace him, that did it. He reached up to shove against her shoulder, leaning away.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

"Showing you a good time, sweetie." He was not having a good time. She went to lean in again and he wriggled free, ducking under her arm and backing away into the room.

"Please, don't." He kept his hand raised to ward her off. She pouted.

"What, you don't like me?"

Not especially. The invasion into his personal space had been unexpected and unwelcome. "I'm sure you're... quite lovely," he said haltingly - it was more of a guess than a lie - "but I'm not... interested in... that." He gestured vaguely, hoping to somehow encapsulate the concept of physical intimacy.

A look of understanding dawned on her face, to Morgan's relief. "Oh. Oh! Sorry about that. I can usually guess. Your friend seemed pretty sure down there, doesn't she know...? Oh well, just sit tight, I'll get out of your hair." She flashed him that bright smile again as she left.

Morgan sat wearily on the edge of the bed. New places were exhausting, and he still had to figure out how to convince the sultan that he would gladly help the mercenaries as long as he was permitted to engage with them as little as possible. How best to frame it? He tested a few different scenarios in his head, starting to build a script from the pieces that seemed most compelling. It was laborious enough that he didn't notice the figure at the entrance to the room until it spoke.

"Not a lot of people turn down Meera's company. Perhaps I'll be a little more to your liking."

"Please, I just - um." He'd started to answer before looking up, and found himself wholly unprepared for the vision that greeted him. The most breathtakingly beautiful person he'd ever seen was leaning casually against the doorway. He smiled at Morgan, a flash of pearly teeth bright against the deep umber of his skin, and moved in to perch on the edge of the bed beside him.

"My name is Jemali. What should I call you?" He laid a delicate hand on Morgan's thigh. That broke the spell. Why did these people insist on so much physical contact?

"Morgan," he said, sliding away from the other man. "I don't like being touched," he added.

"You say that," Jemali smiled, edging closer, "but you've never been touched by me. I'd remember a face as handsome as yours." He reached out to caress Morgan's cheek, but he ducked away from the contact, standing and backing away.

"I don't like being lied to, either." The flattery was over the top. A particularly kind and tactful person might go so far as to describe him as distinctive, but that was just a polite way to skirt around the issue. He was ugly. That was an objective fact. There was no point in trying to disguise or deny it.

"Morgan, honey, I'm not - look, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Let's start over." He patted the bed next to him. Morgan did not move. Jemali sighed. "At least meet me halfway here. I'm trying to please you. If you don't want Meera and you don't want me, what do you want?"

"To rest after a long journey." His patience was wearing thin and he didn't want any sort of company, no matter how lovely they might be to look at. "I just want to be alone."

Jemali arched an eyebrow. "You have a free shot with the finest concubines money can buy, and you don't want to take it?"

"I do not."

"You a eunuch or something?' He cast an appraising glance at Morgan's trousers.

"No."

"Well, now you have me curious." He sprawled across the bed, stretching long limbs to claim the space. "What possible reason could you have to turn both of us down like this? We aren't used to the sting of rejection, you know." He pouted.

"Is it not enough-" he closed his eyes briefly. Irritation was a loss of control, a failure to adhere to the principles that guided him. Plus, raising his voice was starting to hurt his throat. He took a calming breath and tried again. "I don't desire anyone's company. Please just accept that."

"Fine. You don't have to tell me." Jemali rolled over onto his stomach, propping his face up on his hands. "Akarat knows I could use a break anyway. So tell me about yourself, Morgan. Or don't you like talking, either?"

"Not really."

Jemali rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Just my luck, too. Stoic adventurer types are usually right up my alley, but you're going to be a tough nut to crack. I can tell. Don't-" he held up one finger to cut off Morgan's next words before they'd left his mouth, "- don't ask me to leave, because I will, but nobody's going to believe we've finished so quickly. And we're on orders from the sultan to see to you and your friend, so that means I'll have to send in someone else and you'll have to go through this all over again. So just let me sit here for... oh, an hour or so, and then we can both be on our merry ways."

"Fine."

Morgan seated himself in a plush chair opposite the bed, since the other man seemed to be making himself comfortable and he wanted to stay out of his reach. The following silence lasted for nearly a minute before Jemali's voice jolted Morgan out of his thoughts.

"So you must be some sort of wizard." Jemali was studying him, head tilted in what must have been a practiced pose. It was impossible for a person to look so thoroughly statuesque by chance. "You don't have the build to be a fighter. Are you any good? I mean, you must be, or else you wouldn't be here enjoying my company." He stretched languorously. Was he even capable of being still? "Oh, what a story! A strong, silent sorcerer, come to protect us from the clutches of foul demons! This could have been almost romantic, you know. What a waste." He splayed long fingers dramatically across his bare chest, casting his eyes up toward the ceiling.

Ah, yes, the demons. Perhaps he could get some useful information out of this encounter. "Were you there?"

"Was I there when - oh, you want to talk about that." Jemali hugged one knee to his chest, running the edge of a painted fingernail along his bottom lip. "No. No, I was lucky enough to be on a house call. Lost some friends, though." So he could be still after all. Morgan winced. Of course this lively individual had been friends with the victims. Of course the memories would be painful. He hadn't meant to distress him, even though he'd just been hoping for some peace and quiet.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he offered. The other man's lips quirked upward.

"Thanks, honey. That's nice of you to say." He gave a small sigh. "You want to know what you're up against, huh?"

"If I can."

"Smart. Now, we don't make a habit of judging our clientele, but everyone agrees there was a suspicious character who came through just beforehand. Refused to take off his cloak or even pull down his hood. Didn't want anything, just asked a lot of questions and left. Really strange. The demons showed up a few hours later."

Morgan leaned forward. That sounded like it could have been the dark wanderer Cain had described. "Do you know what he asked?"

Jemali shrugged. "Something about old myths, some sort of tomb or something. I don't know."

That would be enough to start with. He could question the sultan in the morning and go from there. Hunting for information was easy enough to justify as an individual task. If the wanderer was looking for something old, that might give him occasion to scour the city archives for information, a pleasantly solitary task. It could also be a justification for working with Deckard Cain, who clearly had some familiarity with the area. The scholar was a useful resource, he reminded himself. It was just a bonus that he liked the old man's company. Things were starting to come together.

Morgan leaned back, satisfied. The action made the collection of small pouches on his belt dig uncomfortably into his side, pushed out of place by the plush stuffing of the chair. He stood to remove them, but of course nothing could go without comment.

"What's all that?"

He considered his options. Ignoring the question seemed unlikely to work, given Jemali's persistence. A vague answer would just lead to more questions, and he didn't particularly want to get into the details of his profession. It might solve the pressing issue of privacy for the moment, but word would inevitably spread, and that could hinder his effectiveness with the sultan. Or get him expelled from the city, depending on the citizens' mood. It wouldn't be the first time. Might as well give a brief explanation.

"Potions. Ingredients for potions. Dried foods. Trinkets." He pointed at each pouch as he named its contents.

Jemali's face lit up. "What kind of trinkets? Like jewels? Oh, can I look at them?"

They were mainly jewellery. Sometimes a skeleton rose with some trappings of its former life still intact - clothes, weapons, baubles. At some point Morgan had started collecting the ones that were particularly appealing to him. The dead generally had no use for possessions. Sometimes he bartered them for supplies, which was useful enough to justify the collection. Sometimes he traded them for other, prettier baubles. To further aid him in his travels, he told himself. Nicer trinkets fetched him more supplies. But he also liked to just look at them sometimes, to appreciate their shapes and the way light played off their surfaces.

He passed the small bag to the courtesan at arm's length. Jemali upended it over the bed in front of him, spreading out the contents to admire them. Morgan, in turn, settled back in his chair and admired Jemali now that his attention was elsewhere. People didn't generally appreciate being stared at, he knew, but everything about the man was arresting. The shape and warm colour of his eyes, the smooth slopes of his skin, the slick, uniform coils of his hair. Even his movements were effortlessly graceful. His voice was easy to listen to, soft and lilting.

"Lost in contemplation of my beauty, hmm?"

Mortifyingly, he was right. "I - I'm sorry. For staring." Morgan averted his eyes. Stupid to have let himself get so distracted. He really did need to rest.

"You don't have to apologize, darling. Clearly you have excellent taste in pretty things," Jemali purred, playing his fingers first over the array of baubles in front of him and then drawing them up to frame his face. He batted his eyelashes. "You sure you don't want a little taste of this?"

"Quite sure." The threat of physical contact was enough to put Morgan back on the defensive. He shifted uncomfortably.

Jemali tilted his head. "You're a funny little puzzle, Morgan. Tell you what, let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"I'll tell the others that you've requested to be my exclusive client. They won't bother you if they know you're mine," he grinned.

It would have been preferable for the guild to ignore him entirely, but he supposed dealing with a single courtesan would be much easier than trying to explain himself over and over. At least this one seemed to understand his request not to be touched.

"And in exchange?"

Jemali reclined fully, wriggling his shoulders into the sheets. "You let me come and go as I please. I don't have a good place here to take a break when I need some alone time. I'll be as quiet as a little mouse, you'll hardly know I'm here."

He considered. It seemed favourable, provided he could count on Jemali to actually be quiet when he needed to concentrate. But would the guild really keep bothering him as long as he stayed here? Or was Jemali overstating the issue to get what he wanted? He eyed the other man warily.

"And I promise I won't lay a finger on you without your permission," he added. That was enough to tip the scales.

"We have a deal."

"Wonderful!" Jemali clapped his hands together and sat up. "Now let's seal it with a kiss, as a matter of tradition... oh, honey, it's all right, I'm just teasing. I said I'll respect your personal space, and honestly I meant it. I'm sorry, Morgan, you don't have to look so scared."

He clenched his jaw. He wasn't scared of being touched, he just didn't want it. Especially not from someone teasing him. Of course, he should have been expecting it. Tiredness and discomfort had interfered with his usual defenses. And if he was honest with himself, so had the peaceful journey, and so had the man's unexpected beauty. He had to remember that he'd earned a measure of respect from his traveling companions, that he couldn't expect the same sort of treatment from a stranger. Especially not such a pretty one, when he was just the opposite. That was just the way the world worked.

"I am going to rest here," he said, closing his eyes and hoping he could take Jemali at his word to leave him be. That ought to end the conversation.

"You can use the bed, you know."

"This is fine."

"All right, suit yourself." True to his word, Jemali was quiet. Morgan could hear the sheets rustle as he made himself comfortable, and shortly afterward his breathing grew slow and deep. Once he was sure the other man was asleep, he finally felt comfortable enough to slip into a light meditation.

It was nearly two hours later by Morgan's count when Jemali gave a soft, almost musical sigh as he awoke and stretched. There were some quiet sounds of fabric and jewellery shifting as he arranged himself, then the soft pat of his feet hitting the floor. "Until next time, darling," he said in a low whisper, and then he let himself out.

Morgan waited a few minutes before relaxing back into a deeper meditation. The chair was actually quite comfortable, much better than the back of the caravan. There was no need to move to the bed. Tomorrow he would meet with the sultan, well rested and hopefully on his own terms. He was cautiously looking forward to it.

[spacedancer1701]

The Night Before Christmas (Or: Don’t Start Without Me!)

A Star Trek Fic

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy, Jenny Hope Rating/Warnings: Explicit (M) Tags: Romance, Love, Smut and Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content Word Count: 4,747

Read it on AO3: The Night Before Christmas   

Summary:

This is a very private story Hope and McCoy decided to share after I received several requests expressing interest in their more intimate affairs. 😉

Or simply put: a (missing) Hope and McCoy smut scene.

(Although you don’t have to be familiar with my other Hope/McCoy stories to enjoy this little one-shot.)

A little present 🎁 for everyone who mourns the lack of smutty details in my other Hope/McCoy fics. Merry Christmas! 🎄

And to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas – don’t worry, it’s not what this story is really about. It’s basically just a ‘naughty’ Hope/McCoy chapter. 

You have been warned. 🙈😅 Enjoy! ❤️

Jenny was trying to get comfortable in the bed that suddenly seemed far too big for her alone. She couldn't believe she was spending tonight without Leonard. Especially, since they hadn’t seen much of each other for the past two weeks, either, and the evening had begun so promising.

It was Christmas Eve, and after Jenny had helped putting the finishing touches on the decorations for the big party tomorrow, she and Leonard had shared a lovely festive dinner with their friends, who’d sent them ‘home’ early with knowing smirks and not so subtle remarks, after the captain and Uhura had unanimously decided that they’d had enough of watching them ‘shamelessly making out’ all evening.

The Enterprise crew had had a tough month, with lots of adventure and surprises, to put it mildly, and Leonard had practically been living in sickbay, while Jenny had also had her hands full between work and helping prepare for the big Christmas party that had become the annual highlight for everyone aboard. Even the crewmembers who didn’t actually celebrate Christmas, just because it was one of those lovely human traditions that reminded them of Earth, or Earth colonies, which were home to most of the crew.

After dinner, Jenny and Leonard had all but raced along the ship’s corridors, with Leonard using the time in the turbolift to wrap her in his loving arms and make the most thrilling promises about all the things he was going to do to her once they were back in their quarters.

“Don’t start without me,” he’d murmured suggestively in her ear, before slipping back out the door to quickly go get his PADD, which he had accidentally left in sickbay, making her soak her panties with just those few words in that incredibly sexy voice of his.

That had been more than two hours ago, as not even a minute after he’d gone, he’d called her on her comm to let her know that he’d arrived just in time for yet another emergency, the disappointment in his voice easily matching her own. Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one hardly able to contain herself anymore.

For some time, Jenny had tried to distract herself by getting ready for his return. Tarting herself up, as her grandmother would have called it, indulging in a real water shower and slipping on the Christmassy underwear Nyota had talked her into buying during a recent starbase shopping spree. A silky shirt and matching panties that were sure to bring out the tiger in Leonard.

Then she’d made herself some tea and settled down on the couch with her PADD to read for a while, but soon found that there wasn’t much fun in wearing a seductive outfit without Leonard around to appreciate it. Particularly as, with his soft drawl and all the enticing promises still fresh in her ear, if anything, her arousal had only grown since he’d walked out the door.

So, with a sympathetic sigh, knowing that the poor doctor didn’t have that luxury and was, by now, most likely totally focused on whatever medical emergency had arisen, Jenny slid under the covers, closed her eyes, and conjured up his sweet, handsome face. Sex was certainly not what their love was built on, but she couldn't deny that making love to him had become a sweet addiction, and that they both got kind of restless and on edge if it had been too long. Which it definitely had.

Making love to Leonard was wonderful beyond description. Gentle and hot, tender and exciting, comforting and fulfilling. He was everything a woman could wish for, and he was all hers. He’d also been the first to show her how enjoyable physical love could be, tenderly and patiently guiding and teaching her, and it had become even better ever since.

The devotion with which he ‘worshipped her body’, as he called it, knowing exactly where and how she loved to be touched most, yet always searching for new ways to pleasure her, got her all flustered just thinking about. Not to mention the way he responded to her touches, making pleasuring him at least as rewarding as letting him drive her to ecstatic heights with his incredibly nimble fingers, lips and tongue.

Smiling to herself, Jenny thought how they’d still be ‘at it’ when they were both old and grey. She couldn't imagine the day when she wouldn’t find the doctor hot and wildly attractive anymore. One of his slow smiles, an almost indiscernible wink, or the gentle sound of his voice saying her name were all she needed to make her go weak in the knees.

Unnoticed, Jenny’s hand had found its way inside her panties, looking to ease the heat that thoughts of Leonard never failed to spark. She hadn’t wanted to ‘start without him’, but now she found she just couldn't stop. Gently writhing and slowly rolling her hips under the touch of her own fingers, she imagined Leonard expertly bringing her to the brink. But no matter how hard she tried, there was no way she could draw out her pleasure and tease herself as skilfully as he could. Instead, she was tumbling over the edge almost instantly.

Tensing up, Jenny came with a low moan, unable to pull her fingers away just yet, as the short relief immediately turned into desperate need again. Leonard always teased her about how, once he got her going, she just couldn't seem to get enough, taking great pleasure in the fact. And just picturing his enraptured gaze as he took her from one orgasm to another, made her climax again. And again. Until her fingers were too wet to apply enough friction, helplessly slipping around inside her drenched panties, and Jenny fell asleep, completely drained.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Tired and disappointed to have missed out on what had promised to become his best ‘Night Before Christmas’ yet, McCoy quietly slipped into his quarters to the titillating sight of his darling Hope fast asleep, bedcovers kicked aside, fingers wedged inside her panties, leaving no doubt about what she’d been up to before falling asleep and kindling instant desire in him.

Of course, he knew that women did that all the time. He was a doctor, dammit! And he’d been a lover before Hope was even born. Or would have been born, if she hadn’t already been born three centuries ago. God, the view made him lose all power of coherent thought, while the bulge in his pants was threatening to burst through the material. And, of course, he’d fantasised about her doing it while thinking of him long before they’d become lovers. But Hope actually lying here like this, a breath-taking picture of silky red and lacy/fluffy white, cheeks still flushed a rosy pink from exertion, was by far the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Picturing her in the act of pleasuring herself, McCoy didn’t doubt for a minute that she’d been thinking about him. He knew only too well that it had been him who’d taught her the physical pleasures of love in the first place. A fact she loved to remind him about frequently. And he could never get tired of hearing her tell him how, that first time, he’d made her feel pleasure like she’d never known before, and how, ever since, she’d been helpless to resist his touch, a single finger, or the simple flick of his tongue, enough to drive her crazy with desire.

Oh, how he longed to hear her tell him that now. In fact, he longed for much more than just that. What he really wanted, was to know exactly what she’d been thinking about. What she’d imagined him doing to her. Details of what she loved and enjoyed most. How she’d brought herself to orgasm. And how often. And, not least, what had aroused her so much it had caused her to touch herself to begin with.

Hope wasn’t big on dirty talk, or even on telling him what she liked or would like him to do. She just didn’t feel comfortable with it, happy to let him do all the talking. But she had a million other ways of showing him how she enjoyed his ministrations, that he’d come to appreciate at least as much. He could certainly never get enough of her little moans and gasps, or the way her body trembled and pressed against him with need and pleasure.

After quietly taking off his clothes and a quick trip to the bathroom, McCoy slid into bed next to Hope, stark naked, leaving the lights on low, so he could still enjoy her beauty and her incredibly hot outfit. She certainly knew how to turn him on beyond measure. It took all his self-control not to wake her, his desire almost getting the better of him. But looking at her relaxed and serene face, so peacefully asleep, he settled for taking matters into his own hands, literally. Imagining the things Hope might have done and thought about while he’d been tied up in sickbay.

He’d barely started touching himself, shivering as he ran his thumb lightly over the already slick tip of his erection, when his gaze fell on Hope’s hand still caught inside her panties, the naughty sweetness of it nearly killing him. This was his Hope, the light and love of his life, the wonderful woman who’d chosen to spend the rest of her days with him, and who never ceased to amaze and surprise him. Or arouse him. And that was the moment he decided that, with it being Christmas and all, it was practically his duty to wake her and show her how much better he could finish what she’d begun on her own.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny woke to the feeling of soft lips covering her face in little kisses, and the gentle touch of familiar fingers on her skin, lovingly caressing her hips and belly. Noticing with a start that her own fingers were still trapped in her panties, she felt herself blush furiously, totally embarrassed to have been caught ‘in the act’. But when she tried to pull her hand out, Leonard’s bigger one quickly gripped hers, keeping it in place.

“Don’t take your hand away, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “I want you to keep it right there. To show me what you did. How you touched yourself. I want to watch you pleasuring yourself and maybe learn something new about you.”

She must have blushed even more at that, because Leonard pressed a gentle kiss on her lips and said with a smirk, “Don’t be shy, love! No need to be embarrassed! It’s really quite flattering to think that I left you so horny you couldn't wait. Finding you like this certainly made me so hard I briefly thought about following your example. And I’m not even talking about your stunning outfit, although I’m pretty sure there’s a law against wearing such a slinky little thing. But then I decided I’d rather wake you after all.”

“I’m glad you did,” Jenny smiled at the doctor, blinking the sleepiness away.

She was already incredibly turned on again just listening to his words, yet couldn't help feeling shy about touching herself in front of Leonard, even though it was perfectly clear how much the idea excited him. Just like she could never really bring herself to talk dirty to him, despite understanding why he’d love her to, seeing what his dirty talk unfailingly did to her.

So, deciding to humour him when he let go of her hand, Jenny gingerly started to draw little circles with her fingers inside her panties, unable to suppress a low moan as she noticed how wet she’d already become again, and eliciting a not so subtle groan from the doctor, who pressed a hot kiss on her lips before returning his lustful gaze to her nether regions.

“Don’t hold back, love,” he purred, gently stroking her thigh and rolling his hips in obvious arousal. “Show me how you make yourself feel good!”

Emboldened by how much Leonard was enjoying this, Jenny began to rub herself in earnest, her breath getting more erratic and her own hips starting to roll in time with her circling fingers, the doctor’s soft moans and encouraging words spurring her on.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured close to her ear, sounding a little breathless, “just let yourself go. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Your fingers going exactly where you need them, touching you just right.”

Leonard talking like that, fuelling her desire like only he could, was too much. Jenny forgot all about her inhibitions, bucking her hips and letting out a soft yelp as she came by her own fingers under the doctor’s mesmerised gaze, his hand sliding under her shirt and tenderly caressing her breasts, as she came off her high, gasping and trying to get her breathing back to normal.

“Do you do this often?” he asked softly, his eyes gleaming and his breath hot on her face, as his hand slid down her belly until it gently covered hers, still preventing it to pull out of her panties.

“I did, before we became lovers,” she confessed reluctantly, suddenly feeling shy again.

“And when you did, what were you fantasising about?”

The question alone was enough to set Jenny on fire again. Add Leonard’s bedroom voice, and she was helpless to keep her fingers from starting to move anew.

“About you, Leonard! Who else?” she sighed longingly, losing herself in his soulful eyes. “About you holding and kissing me.”

“Just holding and kissing, huh?” Leonard chuckled affectionately, brushing a tender, almost chaste kiss on her temple. “And that got you going?”

“Actually, it did!” Jenny blustered, momentarily distracted by the doctor’s undisguised mirth, her fingers losing their rhythm.

Leonard pressed another – less chaste – kiss on her lips, and, chuckling to himself once more, gently pushed her fingers aside.

“I’m taking over, love,” he smiled softly, and a moment later, Jenny’s whole body was on fire with unbridled desire.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Oh my God!” Hope cried out, her body writhing under McCoy’s touch. “It’s so much better when you do it!”

The doctor felt a hot surge of pure lust ripple through him, thrilled by her keen response.

“Tell me, love, what exactly makes it so much better?” he tried to cajole her into a little dirty-talk after all, keeping his touches extra light, knowing perfectly well how that was driving her crazy.

“I just can’t last as long without you,” she confessed sheepishly, blushing adorably and drawing in a sharp breath every time he gently tapped her swollen nub. “I can’t help giving in to my need, where you would still endlessly torment me.”

“So, you love it when I tease you?” he probed, enjoying every word of this stimulating conversation. “When my touch is deliberately light and slow? Like this?”

Hope just nodded, groaning at his ‘demonstration’, his fingers easily gliding through the delicious wetness. It never ceased to amaze and delight him how responsive she was to every little one of his touches.

“When you’re begging me to let you come, you actually want me to keep you on the edge?”

“No! Please!” she cried, her thighs clamping around his hand, desperate for more friction.

“But I think you do,” McCoy kept on teasing her, knowing her well enough to see that she was already incredibly close and wondering how much longer he could still keep his own arousal at bay. “Why? Because it makes release infinitely sweeter the longer you’re denied?”

“You’re cruel!” Hope gritted out, bucking wildly against his hand now, her fingers scrabbling around the bedsheets for purchase.

“Maybe I am,” he whispered, starting to kiss her neck and nibble her ear, taking full advantage of knowing her body so well. “Or maybe I just want you to experience unprecedented pleasure.”

Hope was groping for McCoy’s hand now, getting hold of his wrist and gripping it hard. She always did this when his teasing got too much for her, and it never failed to amuse him how she really thought she was strong enough to force his hand into applying more pressure.

“But then again, perhaps I simply love having this power over your lust, over your body,” he grinned wickedly, enjoying nothing more than driving Hope to the heights of ecstasy, before going for the clincher, anticipating the exact effect his next words would have on her. “And, of course, you need to be punished for starting without me.”

That did it. That, and the skilled touch of a finger that, after months of experience and practice, had come to know Hope’s body inside out.  

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny hurtled over the edge into free fall, exploding into a million shards of pleasure, only realising the noise she was making when Leonard sealed her lips with a passionate kiss in an attempt to muffle her sounds of ecstasy the way he did every time after making her lose control, always a great source of amusement to him.

Admittedly, virtually every orgasm the doctor gave her felt like the best ever, but this time, Jenny was fairly sure it was true. She’d definitely come harder than she had ever before. And a second and third time, before the first climax had even subsided. It felt like getting caught in an endless stream of intense pleasure, the smug grin on Leonard’s face proof of how well he knew what he was doing to her, and how much he enjoyed it.

“My insatiable girl,” he smiled tenderly, brushing damp strands of hair from her flushed face, love and lust blending together in his beautiful eyes. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are. Or how hot it is to see you like this. And how exciting to know that I did this. That I can make you feel like this. That I can tease you to my heart’s content and make you feel pleasure almost too much for you to handle.”

Always staying humble, incredulous almost, despite being this amazing lover, was one of Leonard’s most endearing qualities.

“Just be careful it doesn’t get you more excited than you can handle,” Jenny giggled as soon as she’d caught her breath again.

And still high from her incredible flight of ecstasy, she gently took hold of Leonard’s pulsing erection, finding it rock-hard and fit to burst, and almost made him come at the first touch.

“Jesus! What are you doing to me young lady?” he groaned, and Jenny was thrilled to see that he had to squeeze his eyes shut in concentration to stave off his own imminent orgasm. “Go easy on an old man’s heart!”

“Too late, old man,” she laughed, enjoying being the one in charge for a change, giving his shaft a few firm strokes while lightly running the fingers of her other hand over his crown, teasing his slit and rim, and revelling in the groans, and grunts, and gasps, that her ministrations coaxed out of him, his whole body twitching and jolting with desperate, urgent need. “You brought this on yourself, Doctor! It’s time you got a good taste of your own medicine!”

Watching him come apart at the touch of her hands, Jenny’s heart was brimming over with tender love for the man who’d thrown himself into making this the night of her life, as if he hadn’t just spent exhausting hours in sickbay, dealing with whatever emergency had come up this time. Judging from his playful mood, she could at least be sure that everyone was all right again. She’d ask him all about it later, but for now she had another goal to accomplish. And that was to give him as much pleasure and satisfaction as she possibly could. He’d definitely more than earned it tonight.

Applying all the skills she’d acquired over time, having had months of exploring Leonard’s body and desires, she went on stroking and teasing, alternating between firm and light touches, one hand taking care of his throbbing erection, while the other gently played with his balls. The whole time, her eyes never left the doctor’s handsome face, adorably scrunched up with unbridled lust now, as he was lost in sweet, unbearable pleasure, visibly torn between needing to come so badly and never wanting the feeling to stop.

“I love you, Leonard!” Jenny whispered, leaning over to softly trail her lips from his cheekbone down to his jaw, making him shiver with need, and want, and longing.

“God, Jenny, I love you, too,” he sighed, his lips capturing hers in a deep kiss, and his hand slipping inside her panties again.

“Teasing me makes you even wetter it seems,” Leonard groaned, thrusting hard into Jenny’s hand a couple more times before pushing away abruptly and going down on her before she even knew what was happening.

“Oh my God you’ve never tasted better,” he mumbled, his mouth pressed against her core after having made quick work of her panties, and Jenny thought she might pass out from the intense desire he was arousing in her once more.

She started to grind against his face, so close again already, but the doctor easily pinned her hips down with his strong hands, thus putting a stop to her movements.

“I want to drink every last delicious drop of your juices, love,” he positively growled, “before I give you what you so desperately crave. But I promise you won’t regret it.”

And true to his word, after putting her through what felt like endless, overwhelming need, his lips, tongue, and even his teeth teasing her in every possibly way, he sent her higher than she’d ever been before, making one orgasm spill into the next, his mouth never leaving her most sensitive parts, humming and moaning as if he were indulging in the most deliciously tasting dessert.

Once again, Jenny couldn't help but admire how much control over his own body Leonard showed when it came to pleasuring her, patiently stroking, and caressing, and nibbling, and licking her through all of her orgasms and beyond, not stopping until she’d come back down from her incredible high, breathing hard and shivering with exhaustion.

As soon as he was sure that she was truly satisfied, however, he didn’t waste another moment before finally acting on his own raging need, sliding up her body in one swift move to kiss her mouth hungrily and bury himself deep inside her with a single thrust, knowing that she was wet enough to easily take him.

And, unable to maintain control over his lust any longer, Leonard came after only a few more thrusts with an almighty groan, a soft curse, and a completely misguided apology. A sad hang-up from his time with Jocelyn, that still needed a lot more of Jenny’s gentle reassurances and healing love to help him finally overcome it.

Having learned how to draw out Leonard’s pleasure, Jenny clenched around his length, still buried deep inside her, eliciting more moans and gentle swearing from him, and making him throw back his head one last time before finally collapsing on top of her, breathless and drained, barely able to keep his weight off her.

“God almighty, you’re something else young lady,” he panted, the tender contentment in his eyes melting her heart. “I should really know by now that teasing you always backfires.”

Jenny laughed delightedly, wrapping her arms tightly around him and rolling them over on their sides. She didn’t mind his weight at all, in fact, enjoyed feeling him blanketing her. He wasn’t a heavy man. But she knew that he was always afraid to crush her and couldn’t really relax like that.

“This was amazing, Leonard!” she sighed, shifting even closer and nestling tightly into his arms. “But even so, I think I prefer you not being called away, so that we can ‘start together’.”

“I’m absolutely with you there, love,” he chuckled, “even though every night with you is amazing, no matter how we start or what we do. I sure am the luckiest man alive.”

“Just as I am the luckiest woman alive,” Jenny replied, gazing deeply into his eyes to make him see how sincere she was.

-x-x-x-x-x-

And McCoy knew that she really meant it. That was the best part of loving Hope. She didn’t play games. Not power games, and not any other kind. She was always straightforward. Genuine and sincere through and through. With her, you got exactly what you saw. At least he did. Maybe she could still fool someone who didn’t know her so well. She did have a tendency to hide her troubles behind her cheerful personality, after all.

But he could usually tell, if she was truly happy or not, and she’d more or less given up on trying to pretend with him, accepting that he’d much rather worry about her than find out too late that he hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed him. And he could always be sure that when she said she liked something, she really did. And when she was angry with him, or disappointed, she’d just say so, too. Simple as that. Being with her was just so easy. He’d never been so comfortable in a relationship before. Or so happy. Or so in love.

That didn’t mean she didn’t stress him, of course. In fact, aside from being his sunshine and the joy of his life, she was also a nearly constant source of worry for him, almost as bad as Jim in attracting danger. Or strange blows of fate. But it was all worth it. She was worth it. He’d gladly take on all the worrying in the world, if it meant having her love.

Because Hope’s love, boundless and unconditional, was one of the few certainties in his life. The one thing he had complete and utter faith in and knew he could always depend upon. Whatever she saw in him, he’d given up trying to understand, simply accepting that she believed him to be worthy of her affections and had given him her heart to hold and take care of.

McCoy might be afraid of losing her, considering all the dangers that came with living and working in space, but never of losing her love. And he’d certainly never stop doing everything in his power to make her, if not the luckiest, then hopefully the happiest woman alive.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny watched Leonard’s eyes grow soft, as he let his loving gaze roam all over her body. She knew that look well. He always had it when she paid him a compliment or told him how much she loved him. Especially after they’d just made love. It was a look of blissful happiness mixed with wonder, and it never failed to tug at her heartstrings.

Leonard was every woman’s dream, in and out of the bedroom. And while he was confident enough as a doctor and scientist, and also as a lover, she knew that he still felt undeserving when it came to being loved. Jocelyn really had a lot to answer for, and Jenny was glad that she had a whole lifetime to convince Leonard of his own worth. To make him see what an amazing man he really was.

His gaze finally returning to her face after having lingered on her Christmas outfit for a considerable amount of time, Jenny saw a naughty grin spread across the doctor’s face.

“Tonight has turned out amazing after all, love, hasn’t it?” he smiled, kissing her tenderly on the lips. “But knowing you as I do, we’re not done yet.”

The mischievous grin on his face grew even wider, as his fingers started toying with the hem of her silky shirt and slowly making their way further down from there.

“I’m exhausted, Leonard!” Jenny laughed, trying to brush his hand away.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to check that myself. I can’t just take your word for it!” he replied in his no-nonsense CMO voice, before adding in a softer tone, “You are my insatiable girl after all, and I’m sure you’ll understand that, as your doctor, I couldn't afford to be negligent in my duties!”

“Believe me, Leonard,” Jenny giggled, as the doctor’s fingers gently probed between her thighs, and he broke into a knowing smile, “I’m totally spent! You made sure of that only a minute ago, remember? I couldn’t even ... ah ... oh my God!”

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.