#jaime oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myhaikyuuacademia · 5 months

Note

Hi, I know it’s super cliche but I was wondering if I could get a one bed friends to lovers story with Jaime Reyes?

This request made me so happy lmao. I wrote so much for it. Sorry it's late!

How could I not? | Jaime Reyes x reader (Blue Beetle 2023)

Summary: we love one bed. We love a sprinkle of accidental confession. Warning: tired Jaime is clingy. Canon. A/N: I LOVE this lmao tysm

You and Jaime hadn’t been friends for very long when all of the Kord stuff happened, but you didn’t hesitate to offer letting him and his family stay at your apartment while their house was getting fixed. They didn’t end up taking you up on that, since Jenny also offered them their own apartment and they’d rather take that then inconvenience you, but it was a little cramped in that apartment (not that it wouldn’t have been at yours). Jaime complained about it all the time. Especially about how Milagro had been relentlessly teasing and annoying him about stuff. He didn’t specify what. Anyway, that’s how you found yourself on a Sunday evening opening the door to a kinda disheveled looking Jaime. “Oh. Jaime. What’s up?” You moved to the side, letting him enter your apartment. “Ugh.” He groaned. “I haven’t slept properly in ages. Between renovations, hero stuff and my family seemingly being more overbearing than usual, especially in a space so small I can’t escape them, it just. I can’t fucking sleep.” He ranted and then ran a hand over his face and hair. You just chuckled as you closed the door and walked further into your apartment. “So you came here to escape?” You sat down on the couch and looked up at him, standing before you, hesitating for a second whether to sit down or what to do before deciding to do so. “Yeah” He breathed out. “I guess.” You hummed, understandingly. “Well, my doors are always open for you.” Turning towards the tv, you grabbed the remote from your coffee table. “Wanna watch spiderman with me?” Jaime sighed and then grinned, “sure.”

He didn’t last 5 minutes.

You glanced over at him and noticed his closed eyes and deep relaxed breaths. Hesitant, you gave him a nudge, trying to wake him up. The couch, and the way he was sitting right now especially, would give him a sore back and neck if he continued sleeping like this. “Jaime.” You whisper-shouted. Another nudge, “Jaime!”. Groggily he murmured and tried to move out of the way so he could continue his sleep in peace. “Come on Jaime, go to bed.” You tried pulling on his arm to get him to stand up, but he barely moved. Instead he pulled you down, so you landed half on top of him and he buried his head in your neck, while his arms closed around your waist holding you close. You froze and your brain simultaneously short-circuited and erupted into chaos. His breath was warm and even on your skin and his hands so soft on the little bit of exposed skin between your top and pants. He didn’t seem bothered by the position you two found yourselves in, hell, he probably didn’t even notice. You were pretty sure he was immediately and fully asleep again. Meanwhile your heart was still beating as if to escape your chest.

“Jaime.” You tried again after you’ve had a while to compose yourself. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, it’ll be more comfortable.” No success. “Khaji-Da?” Last resort. You heard groaning, and felt Jaime moving ever so slightly. “Come on now, let’s get you to bed. I promise you can continue sleeping in just a second.” Carefully, you tried slipping out of his arms, standing up and holding your hands out in front of you to help him up. With a pout on his lips he looked at you through half-lidded eyes before taking your hands with an overly dramatic movement and you pulled him up rolling your eyes, laughing. You didn’t notice the way he smiled at that. One of his hands still in yours, you led him to your bedroom. “Go. Sleep.” You lightly patted him on his back in a shoving way to get him to go to your bed. Standing in the doorway with your arms crossed you were observing if he was doing what you’re telling him to. He was well on his way when he stopped, as if a sudden thought occurred. “What about you?” He turned around. His voice was raspy, still half-asleep. Your heart was racing again, and your face felt very hot suddenly. “W…” you cleared your throat. “What about me?” “Aren’t you going to sleep?” “Oh. I’ll just sleep on the couch it’s fine. Plus, we didn’t really get that far with the movie, so I can just finish it.” He didn’t seem to like that answer, by the way his brows furrowed and his pout came back. “I’m not stealing your bed and leaving you to sleep on your couch. Especially in your own apartment.” “You need sleep more than I do. It’s fine. Really.” You tried convincing him. A feeling of an old western stare down crept up on you. Like whoever blinked first, lost. “Come on Jaime, just go back to sleep.” You plead, head slightly tilted and puppy-dog-eyes. His eyes narrowed. He was going to strike a deal. Or a compromise. “I’ll only go to sleep if you go. And I’ll only sleep in your bed if you do. Wait that came out wrong.”

“Pffff.” You burst out laughing. Ignoring how flustered his proposal made you. This man was gonna be the death of you some day. “You sure?” you asked jokingly. “Fine, go to bed. I’ll turn off the tv.” You sighed playfully defeated and turned around. Your heart was doing the racy thing again at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as Jaime. You groaned annoyed as you turned off the tv and lights and went back to the bedroom. For a second, you had considered staying in the living room and hoping he’d fallen back asleep, but he was stubborn and you knew that. There was no escape. And as predicted, he was sitting in your bed waiting, watching the door for you to come back. You noticed he was only wearing a t-shirt now, his sweater and pants on the floor next to him and it reminded you that you still had to change into your pajamas. Being around Jaime really saved you a lot of money on blush. You could tell he was watching you as you made your way over to your closet. If you wanted to, you could just go to the living room to change, or the bathroom. The question is, did you want to? Not really. You felt comfortable around Jaime, and you trusted him. And it’s not like you were about to get completely naked. And honestly, he probably might just look away anyway. So you took of your pants first, to put on some shorts, and then your top, to put on a flowy shirt. All the while your back was turned to your bed. You might have heard a “shut up Khaj” from behind you but you weren’t sure. Okay, maybe in hindsight it did make you feel a bit embarrassed and flustered to change in front of him. When you turned around, Jaime was staring at the wall in front of him very intently, and with a very red face. Pressing your lips together to contain your facial expression you made your way over to the other side of the bed. “Happy now?” You asked as you sat down next to him, pulling the blanket on top of you. “uhuh.. hmm. Yeah” He was still looking straight ahead and avoiding your eyes. “Jaime.” You called out softly. This made his head turn. “Go to sleep.” You grinned. He only rolled his eyes in response and shook his head in mock-exasperation. But for some reason you couldn’t move your eyes, or stop your lips from smiling, and you kept looking at him. At his pretty, pretty face, with his soft, soft hair. His lips, that had been breathing into your neck just minutes earlier. His beautiful brown eyes that you found staring back at yours. In just a second, a tension had built up and the energy in the room completely changed. You licked your lips nervously. What now? Neither of you dared to move. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing at this point. You felt the urge to say something, but you didn’t know what. Your mind was wiped completely empty. Jaime’s eyes were the first to flicker down to your lips.

And then his phone made a sound. You almost jumped apart, and he dizzily looked you up and down before turning around to grab his phone. His attention elsewhere and his eyes no longer on you, you remembered to breathe. Turning to face away from him, instead facing the wall he had been looking at so meticulously earlier you glid down so you were no longer sitting and let your covers almost swallow you whole. As if they could protect you from the fire you felt inside. You heard him setting his phone down again, and the rustling of the duvet when he laid down as well. You felt him looking at you. Did you dare look at him?

No.

“Good night, y/n.”

Only then you glanced over at him. “Good night Jaime.” You whispered, before looking back up at the ceiling.

By the sound of his breathing, he fell asleep soon after. Something you were, so very far away from at this moment. Your whole body was tense and your mind was going a mile a minute. You were acutely aware of his presence, his face just a couple inches to your side. There was no way you could calm down enough to fall asleep with him in your bed, next to you. You turned to face away from him, hoping it’d give you some sense of distance between you two. After some brainstorming you figured your best bet was to sneak out on to the couch once you were sure it wouldn’t wake him up. Well, that’s what you would’ve done, if you weren’t suddenly wrapped in Jaime’s arms literal seconds before you would have tried sneaking out. “Stay.” He murmured sleepily, face buried in your back. “Wh..” slipped out of your mouth as you tensed up, caught off-guard. “Khaj.” He answered your unspoken question, his hands around your waist. You had two choices. Give in, or not. You gave in.

Surprising how fast you can fall asleep when you’re in the arms of someone you l- When you’re in the arms of someone. Period.

You woke up still in his arms, and it made you feel all warm inside. Though, face-to-face now, with your face buried in his neck for a change. “Morning.” His voice was hoarse, though it sounded liked he had been for a while already. You didn’t feel like talking yet, so you just wrapped your arms around him tighter and buried your face in his shoulders more. Suddenly shy. One of his hands moved from your back to stroke your hair. This, you thought, is a moment you wished you could stay in forever. “You want some breakfast?” Jaime asked. “mmhm” you declined. “I only want to stay in bed with you.” He chuckled at that and started playing with your hair, wrapping strands around his fingers. “And to think just a few hours ago you tried to sneak out.” He teased. Your face scrunched up. “hmmh” you mumbled, “well, I changed my mind. Now you have to come over every night so I can fall asleep.” You weren’t completely serious when you said it, but Jaime just replied with a “Deal.” There was a content silence after this. He continued playing with your hair and you continued holding him. “Do you think trees get sad when their leaves fall off?” This came completely unprompted and so sudden it made you laugh. “Jaime what the fuck.” You pulled away to look at him, amused. He looked at you so full of love your brain stuttered. “I…” You trailed off. “No. If they’re capable of enough thought to be sad about it, I think they know the leaves will come back.” “But they won’t be the same leaves.” His fingers that were weaving through your hair before now began tracing invisible patterns on your skin. “Do you get sad when you get a haircut? I imagine it’s the same way.” You replied sincerely. He seemed to think about it before his face scrunched up. “I’d be sad if I got a buzzcut yeah.” You burst out laughing. After you calmed down you started running one of your hands through his hair. “I’d be sad if you got a buzzcut, too.” But I’d still love you.

“But I’d still love you.”

You didn’t even notice you said it out loud, the thought itself stunned you and made your hand stop playing with his hair for a second before you managed to get it moving again. You completely forgot about your face, so the shock was still seared into it. Eyes wide, looking at your hand in his hair, focusing on it, as if combing through his hair was the most difficult thing to do, just so you didn’t have to look into his eyes.

“You love me?”

Your hands halted and your eyes met his. “What?”

“You… love me?” he repeated in the same soft and unbelieving voice, barely above a whisper.

“What?” you felt like a broken record.

“You said you would still love me.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

In a way this situation was like the one yesterday, before his phone went off. Both of you staring at each other, not saying a word. But the energy was so different. He was waiting for you to say something, it seemed, to confirm or deny, but you didn’t know what to say. There are two wolves inside of you. So you stayed completely frozen instead. There was no phone ‘ding’ to save you this time. It was getting uncomfortable, neither of you saying anything. Your fight or flight instinct was begging for you to run. Instead, almost out of your control, your mouth opened, as if to say something. But then you remembered you had no idea what to say. “yes.” Oh. I guess we’re going with that. This seemed to break you out of your spell, you turned around, out of his arms, out of the bed, you got up. “Sorry.” “What? Why are you apologizing?” Jaime asked. Your back turned towards him you heard him move. Flight was kicking in, and you were well on your way out the bedroom when he managed to grab your arm and keep you from moving further away. “I love you!”

You stood still. Then you turned around. “I love you too.” Jaime said again, this time adding the ‘too’. “So you don’t have to apologize.” It was a little funny, if you were honest. The way he was half kneeling on your bed half standing on the floor, holding your wrist and telling you he loved you in just his shirt and underwear. “You do?” “Yeah. Of course. Of course I do, how could I not?” He said it so earnestly, it made you want to laugh because he was still in that weird position. “You do.” No longer a question. You stepped closer with a smile. “You love me.” Grinning now. “You love me.” He just repeated. Spiderman pointing meme. You nod. And then you kiss him.

257 notes · View notes

99liners · 10 months

Text

love is war — a. daiki

pairings: aomine daiki x wife!reader

extra characters: akashi seijuurou, aida riko

genre: heavy angst, marriage!au.

words: 1.835

warnings: bad break up, too many feelings, mentions of sex.

[disclaimer: i do not own the original animated picture, it was uploaded to wallpapercave by apple3d]

your hands shook for the first time that day as you stood there in the kitchen, the apron loosely hanging to your tired form. your left hand on the white onion that you just peeled, your right hand holding the knife, the nails of which carried the remnants of the aforementioned onion’s shell. your hand shook as you kept thinking about it, about how you just have had enough.

turns out marrying aomine daiki was not the difficult part, the hardest part came afterwards — staying married to him, cause God bears witness to how many times you have just wanted to scream and shout out of sheer hatred.

hatred not for him but his sport, his career, and now that you think about it — hatred for a part of him, too, cause basketball was not just a sport for him, it was his entire life which you have always whole-heartedly supported but sometimes, just sometimes, you want to headbutt him and then maybe, just maybe wrap your small (compared to his) hands around his neck and squeeze with all your might to watch the life fleeing through his eyes.

but guess we are not ready for that conversation yet.

shaking your head, you continued with cutting the onion, although you almost did cut your finger but it was a near miss. after you were done cutting the carrots and the beans, you moved the pot filled with water on top of the stove at high flame.

the sound of the door opening did not do much to faze you and you gently continued with putting the chopped vegetables inside the pot, now that the water was shimmering a bit. the surrounding soon filled with the familiar sound of daiki’s practice bag dropping to the floor, followed by the unlacing of his shoes and his socks dropping on the floor to which he is not going to pay another look to.

his footsteps were soft and almost rhythmic as they resounded louder with every step that he took because he was taking those steps towards you only. you knew very well what exactly was going to happen next but nonetheless you kept playing ‘don’t do it dai-kun’ in your head like a mantra and there, just when you were in the middle of chanting that mantra, it happened.

his sweaty figure hovered behind you, so close to your back that you could feel his breath on your shoulder, his hands were swift, much like in basketball as he wrapped them around your chest, his right hand falling in place — on your left breast.

“mhm, here are my favourite pair of tits.”

the smirk that must have formed on his lips is unmistakable.

‘so you have other pair of backup tits?’ you would have replied on a regular day but you kept quiet.

daiki noted your silence but continued, “and no, i do not have any pair of backup tits, yours are enough.”

he expected you to reply now maybe but you kept quiet.

and then came the familiar grinding, his lower half grinded against your ass, his boner becoming more and more prominent.

and that was it, that is what it all took.

“leave me alone dai-kun,” your voice was exceptionally low. in your mind however that was mellow cause what you expected to do was burst out, have a meltdown, break things even maybe but aomine daiki’s sheer presence just proved that you were his wife first and y/n second and you hated that, hated yourself for that.

daiki chuckled thinking nothing of it and inched his fingers near your nipple to stimulate it but your hand on his startled him. your small cold hand on his usual hotter one is what it took for him to finally understand that something was amiss.

“what’s wrong?”

“wow, the fucking nerve you have.”

“excuse me?” daiki was startled again and took a step back.

you turned around after your hand instinctively lowered the flame of the stove, “have you seen the time?”

“yeah. it’s late i know, and?”

“and what dai kun?! and fucking what? i am fucking tired. it is 12 in the middle of a god awful night and you are coming back now. i was late tonight as well and just wanted to come home to my husband but i got what i always get, fucking loneliness creeping and lingering in this ‘shared’ apartment.”

your tone change at the ‘shared’ word surprised you even. you did not mean to sound that rude.

“babe, if work is getting overwhelming and you have to put in more hours, it is fine. i will understand if you do not want to cook. leave it, we can just order something,” daiki offered you a gentle smile, his hand advancing towards you but your maniacal laugh shocked, nay, scared him. it was bone chilling. you do not even talk in a louder tone and here you were laughing an almost sadistic laugh.

“wh-what’s wrong?” daiki stuttered, probably the first time in his life, wait the second; counting the time when he proposed to you because he was shit scared out of his mind.

“of course you would not mind if i do not cook one night, aomine daiki and maybe if i stop cooking altogether, that would not bother you as well. you know what, i should stop waking up at four in the morning to prepare your bento boxes and attending your matches, taping your broken bones and taking your parents to their monthly doctor checkups. oh and also, definitely stop fucking you.”

daiki was not sure what was happening nor did he have any idea how to respond to your outburst, “baby, if it is getting hard at work, it is okay if you want to take a break or something.”

you had not noticed but you were crying, you cannot just be angry, if you are angry you obviously are also crying because that is the only way you know how to vent out.

you shook your head, “and they told me talking would fix things. my fucking ass,” you sniffled, wiping your tears as if in a hurry and pulled your shrug closer to your form as if a cold draft just passed through you, “i am leaving, dai-kun. since you would not really notice if i stopped doing any of that, i don’t see the point of even standing here anymore,” your hand reached out inside the pocket to bring out your phone.

daiki watched you in horror, like in that match when kagami passed through daiki’s defense using kuroko’s misdirection overflow. back then it took two people to faze him but here, tonight, you were doing it alone so effortlessly.

“can you pick me up?” your soft sniffles rang like bells inside his head, it was as if everything around him was moving in slow-motion.

he meant to ask you who had you called or maybe where you were going or how long were you taking a break for but you beat him to it.

“akashi kun is coming to pick me up, you will receive the divorce papers first thing in the morning,” you rushed to the bedroom after noticing his star struck expression, your tears free falling but you hardly cared about them as you hurriedly stuffed in your clothes inside a suitcase.

daiki took a while to process everything but was quick to follow you to the bedroom, “babe please, we can talk. i swear i will listen to everything you have to say.”

“you just listened dai kun, listened to everything i had to say. i am done now. i am not even sure if i want to see you again.”

daiki never knew that words could hurt so deeply cause that last bit struck him, struck him deep almost like it gnawed away a huge portion of his heart. a heart that he did not even possess for years now cause he gave it to you, in its entirety.

there was a car honk outside and he just watched wordlessly as you walked out of the apartment. how the hell did akashi come so quickly? or maybe its daiki who has lost track of time cause by the time he ran downstairs to try and stop you, you had already ascended akashi’s mercedes and left.

there, you were gone. his iris lit up with only the red from the tail-lights of the car, it was blurring at first but as the car went further away, it became smaller and smaller till it was only a small speck. you were only a small speck, or smaller cause he could not make out your figure in the passenger seat anymore. you were too far from him, too far. the only sound he heard in the lull of the night was the thud of his knees and the slight crack of his bones as they met with the sidewalk.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“are you sure about this?” akashi’s voice lacked the usual confidence and luster.

you nodded at once, “yes. i am sure. it is way past the final quarter, i should accept my defeat and move on,” you tried to make a basketball joke to lighten the mood.

akashi’s words died down in his throat as he just offered a small nod and kept driving. an hour drive later, you arrived at aida riko’s house where akashi left soon after helping with your luggage.

you watched his car driving away, a part of you wished that he went back to daiki and maybe checked up on him. you have never seen daiki that upset but the other part of you just could not be bothered to care.

riko ushered you back inside, the warmth of her house filled you with that same emptiness as you started crying again, your blurred vision moved from one corner to the other as you noticed the christmas decoration. it was christmas eve and although the decorative lights were turned off but you could just feel it in your bones how good and bright they would be shining around the tree, a feeling you could never experience in your own home in the past three years. it was just four walls and a roof, an apartment at best, where daiki resided for an hour or two, or less maybe if he skipped the foreplay and just fucked you and then even skipped the shower afterwards to leave again for practice at the crack of dawn.

“i am sorry, i must have ruined your christmas,” your voice cracked and you repeated yourself just to make sure you were audible enough.

riko was quick to hug your shaking form, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, “never ever think like that again.”

you tried to stop crying but you could not, instead you just hugged her form and kept crying for what felt like hours cause her arms always felt like an older sister’s would.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

feedback is deeply appreciated.✨

masterlist | knb masterlist | rules | ask box

- jaimie

222 notes · View notes

a1307s · 5 months

Text

Crock Effect

(Jaime Reyes)

[Art is not mine! Credit to Psuede]

Requested by: Moka664441

[Idea inspired by sepia-stained-sunset on tumblr; story called “Core Four Are Each Others' Greatest Weapons Against Parental/Mentor Figures”]

Keys:

Y/N

N/N

Word Count: 3268

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Cursing

———————————————————————

A couple weeks ago the team got a new member. His name is Jaime and the poor kid has some alien embedded in his back. He's a bit of a mess which leads to a lot of mishaps and a lot of him getting yelled at. It's okay though, entering the hero life is a lot to deal with.

"Jaime!" M'gann yells from the living room.

Everyone in the training room turns towards Jaime to see how he'll react. He pales and his eyes go big.

I roll my eyes before walking towards the bug boy. "What are you doing?" Tim hisses at me, grabbing my arm to pull me back.

"I'm going help Jaime get out of trouble. I'm tired of hearing him get yelled at," I answer, shrugging Rob off of me before continuing my walk.

"Jaime!" M'gann yells again as I get in front of the new member.

"What did you do?" I whisper to him as I glance up and down his body. I haven't gotten the chance to really know Jaime yet. Conner is always super protective when new people join the team. Especially new people that can't control their abilities yet.

"Um..." He says, glancing down at me before looking back towards the kitchen. "I was rushing to make a mac n cheese cup before practice and forgot to add water. I was going to clean it up but Kaldur started before I could."

"Jaime! What did you do to my microwave?" M'gann asks, floating into the training room. Her eyes are hard and her hands are balled up on her hips.

"I-"

"I'm sorry M'g," I say, interrupting Jaime. "I ask Jaime to make me something to eat before sparring which ate up his prep time. I made him feel rushed, I'm sorry," I say again, softening my eyes and sending her a soft smile.

"Oh! It's okay Y/N. I'll go make you something to eat, yes?" M'gann says, all her anger instantly washing from her face before she leaves the room.

Jaime glances between M'gann and me a few times before speaking. "What the hell was that?"

"The baby Crock effect," Robin says, dramatically rolling his eyes to make sure we can see it even with his mask on.

"What's the 'baby Crock effect'?" Jaime asks, glancing at me again before turning back to Tim.

"The 'baby Crock effect' is pretty much that Y/N can do no wrong in the eyes of the OGs."

"I can do wrong! I've gotten in trouble before! I just got yelled at by Nightwing yesterday!" I peep up, crossing my arms and glaring at Batman's mini-me.

"You compromised a mission cause you slipped off a tree branch and gave up our spot. And what did Nightwing do?" Robin bites back, trying to look intimidating.

"He yelled at me, telling me I'm reckless and need to work on my eligibility."

"Exactly! Exactly! He yelled at you and then apologized for raising his voice. If anyone else would have done that, they would have been benched for at least a week and had double training and-" Robin says, but gets cut off from Nightwing slapping him upside the head.

"Stop picking on Y/N," Our leader says before sending me a smile. "Hello Princess."

"Hey Wing-man," I say back, waving at him with a big smile.

"See? Baby Crock effect," Rob says, rubbing the back of his head.

————————————

After sparring practice we all decided to chill out in Jaime's room and play some video games. I don't really know what video game they're playing nor do I care. I'm just here to support and talk with Cassy. She has a crush on Robin - for god knows why - and wanted uninterrupted goggly eye time.

"I am going to kill you, bug boy!" Wally yells as he paces the hallway, slamming open bedroom doors. So much for uninterrupted, I guess.

Everyone in the room sighs and glares at Jaime, who's sat next to Garfield, waiting for his turn on the game. "Now what did you do?" Gar asks, turning towards his friend.

"Artemis asked me to pop into her room earlier to grab her arrows," Jaime answers, the blue of his armor slowly enveloping him as Wally gets closer.

"And?" Beast Boy pushes.

"And I may have stopped to look at Wally's collection and maybe accidentally broke an arrow he had on the shelf."

"You are so dead," Cass says between laughs.

"It's just an arrow. It shouldn't be that big of a deal," Jaime huffs up, trying - but failing - to hide his nervous.

"Ya, just the arrow from the first time my sister and him crossed paths," I mumble, sitting up in Jaime's bed.

"Start your prayers, Reyes," Wally says, slamming open the door. He is pissed. The broken arrow is clenched in his hand, eyebrows pushed so far together that they look like a unibrow, and face so red it matches his hair.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, trying to make my eyes watery to really sell my act. "I didn't mean to break your arrow, Walls."

Just like M'gann, Wally softens when he looks at me. "Don't cry N/N. It's just an object," He says, walking up to the bed to cup my face.

"I'll ask Batman to use my allowance to get it fixed. I promise," I say, forcing out a hick up as I bury my head into Wally's neck.

Wally runs his fingers through my hair and places soft kisses against my head. "Don't worry about it. I'll get it fixed." He smoothers me in more kisses before pulling me off of him. "You're the prettiest little lady," He tells me, kissing my forehead before walking out of the room.

Once the door is closed, Cassy busts out laughing. "Fucking faker," she says between laughs. "It's almost terrifying how easy you play the OGs."

"It's cause she's the baby. 'The prettiest little lady'," Robin says sarcastically.

"Don't be mad that I'm liked more than you, third place," I mumble, sliding off the bed and crawling over to Jaime. "Would you stop getting in trouble today? I can only dig you out so many times before they catch on that I'm covering for you."

"I'll try my best," Jaime says, followed by a nervous laugh.

I look at him for a second, debating if he'll actually stay out of trouble or not. Probably not. "Whatever," I mumble, crawling back into the bed and stretching out next to Cassy again.

"Lucky you, Jaime. Seems like you got adopted by the team sweet heart," Gar teases, handing the game controller to him.

————————————

The past couple days have been pretty peaceful. All the missions have gone smooth, Nightwing - and Batman - have been pretty calm lately, and most importantly Jaime has stayed out of trouble which means the yelling in the mountain has gone down.

In the past week or so, Jaime has started cuddling up to me. I've enjoyed it. He's a funny and sweet guy. That, and it's just nice to know the people you're working with. Apparently he's from Texas and personally, I like myself a cowboy.

Thoughts of Jaime fill my head a bit more than I'd like as I walk through the hallway, heading towards the living area.

Bart - our newest addition - is talking with Jaime and Tim in the living room. Supposedly, Bart is Barry's grandson. Richard tested his DNA and said it's true but I still have a weird feeling about the new speedster. Given, he is a time travel that just appeared in our training room like two days ago so the feeling might be because of that.

"I don't think your mom is going to flip, Dude," Bart says as I stroll through the room.

"I burnt a hole through my Jordans! My Jordans! Do you know how expensive they are? Almost two hundred dollars! How do I even explain how I did it? If I go up and say 'hey mama I've been sneaking around to be a hero and on patrol today I recked my Jordan's, my bad' she'll flip!" Jaime says, looking over his shoes as he panics.

I sit on the couch, listening to the two boys bicker back and forth for awhile. Soon, Nightwing's voice starts filling the room as he walks through. "One second Bats," He says, beelining for me instead of just walking through the room. "Hey princess, you need anything before I pop out to Gotham?" He asks, bending down to kiss my check.

"Hey Wing-man! Hey Batty!" I add, propping up some to get closer to Richard's phone. "Can I have $400?" I ask, plopping back down on the couch.

Nightwing takes out his wallet and starts counting twenties as he continues his conversation with Bruce. "I'll call you before you go to bed, ya?" Richie asks, leaning down to hand me the money and kiss me again but this time he kisses the crown of my head.

"I'll talk to you tonight," I answer, propping up some to give him a side hug before he walks out. I count out the money, splitting it in half. "Here you go," I say, leaning towards Jaime.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He asks, eyeing me and the stack of cash.

"Buy new Jordan's? Duh," I answer, shoving the money in his hand before getting up to leave.

"How?" Beetle boy asks, looking at me in disbelief. "How did you just... get that much money? From Nightwing of all people?"

I giggle a little at his disbelief. "Nightwing is like filthy rich. Well, Batman is filthy rich but Nightwing gets to enjoy that money too."

"That doesn't really answer my question," Jaime says, feeling the money like he doesn't believe it's real.

"I don't know... Nightwing has just always given me money when I ask. He blows like a shit ton of money on me at all the parties we go to so four hundred isn't really that big of a deal."

Jaime looks at me in disbelief, his mouth moving like a fish as he struggles to get words out. "Thank you?" He finally says, but he words it more of a question than a statement.

"You're welcome! Make sure you get your sneakers," I say before heading towards Conner's room. I have shopping to do now!

————————————

"You are ground! Grounded from patrol, grounded from going out during team times, grounded from everything, you hear me?!" Kaldur yells, filling the mountain with his voice.

I sit up in my favorite fluffy chair in the library. Perking up at the sound of drama. I know drama can be pretty messy when you're in it but just observing it is pretty fun.

I sneak through the hallways, trying not to make a noise as I snoop out where Kaldur is. I want to know what's going on and who's getting yelled at. Most importantly, I want to know how said person fucked up.

I round the corner into the training room. M'gann's ship is back and surprisingly Batman is here. That means someone really fucked up.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean too!" A voice says. A voice with a certain Hispanic accent.

What trouble did Jaime get himself into this time? Most he something big of the Bat is here to deal with it too.

"I don't care if you meant too or not, you endangered the team. We can't have that happening so until further notice, as soon as you step foot into this mountain you are not leaving unless it's to go home. Am I-"

"Kaldur!" I chirp running into the room. I wiggle my way past Conner, Bart, Richard, and Lagoon to jump on the fish boy. Kaldur catches me, holding me against his torso with his arms wrapped around me. "You didn't tell me you were going on the mission with Conner," I say, running my hands over his buzz cut.

"I'm sorry. It was a last minute decision."

"Still, I like to know you're okay," I say, laying my head on top of the older boy's head.

"Well, I am okay," He says, setting my back down on my feet. "What have you been up to today?" He asks, moving the hair out of my face.

"Well the big bad detective over there was suppose to take me shopping and to get my gala dress yesterday," I say, poking some fun at Bruce. "But he had a meeting so Jaime said he'd take me to pick it up today."

"I already apologized," Bruce teases back, walking up behind me. His cape envelopes me a bit, filling me with the familiar warmth.

"Jaime has been grounded to the mountain," Kaldur says, glancing between Bruce and me.

"But Jaime promised," I pout, feeling Batman shift behind me.

Kaldur sighs through his nose, taking a glance at Jaime before turning toward me again. "Fine, he won't be grounded to the mountain. That doesn't mean you're off the hook though." Kaldur says, turning towards Jaime during the last part.

"Do you have money to go shopping with?" Batman asks, already counting out some cash.

"I have some allowance stored up that I was going to use," I say, a smile playing on my lips as I watch Conner and Richard both pull out their wallets as well. Maybe I am a bit favorited.

"Absolutely not," Bruce says, handing me some cash as he continues to go through his wallet.

It doesn't take long for Richard to add to the cash pile. "Wing-man, take your money back. You already gave me money this week," I say, trying to give him back the cash he handed to me.

"Nope," he answers, walking out of the room before I can give it back to him.

"Have her back before dark," Conner starts, focusing his attention to Jaime as he adds to the stock pile. "And don't be touchy cause I will find out and I will kill you."

"Uhhh... yes sir," Jaime says, his eyes widening a bit at Conner's threat.

"Take my credit card too," Bruce says, stepping in front of Sups to add the black rectangle to the pile.

"I have more than enough, Bats. I don't need your credit card too."

"Maybe you will. You never know," he says, patting my head before rubbing it, messing my hair up some. "Plus, I have more money than I know what to do with. Might as well spend it."

"You are all fucking crazy," Jaime mumbles, walking out of the room to change out of his uniform.

————————————

"So... your family is like crazy rich," Jaime says as we walk down the Happy Harbor strip mall.

"My family lived in the Gotham ghetto. Well, all of Gotham is pretty much the ghetto but you get the vibe I'm going for," I correct Jaime, stopping outside a store to admire the dress in the window.

"Don't seem like it. You just got handed what? Seven hundred dollars?"

"Well if you want to get technical, Batman has a hundred thousand dollar limit on his credit card so I got handed hundred thousand nine hundred dollars," I say, pushing up the store door, causing the bell above it to jingle.

"And you want me to believe you live in the ghetto?" He asks, looking around at the different displays as I snoop around for something Conner might like.

"Lived," I correct again, stopping to smell some of the candles. "After Wally and Artemis got a place together Artemis insisted that I moved out of Gotham and either stayed with them in Central City or lived at the mountain with the other members."

Jaime watches me as a check out the candles. I'm thinking the rose one for M'gann and the cinnamon one for Barbra. "So what's the deal with everyone just handing you money then?"

I hand the candles to Jaime to hold before heading down the next aisle. "Well Batman is a billionaire because of some technology company he inherited from his parents. Then Conner is inheriting Lex Corporation whenever Luther rolls over and dies. So I'm not rich but Nightwing and Conner are."

"Oh," Jaime says, brushing against me as he shifts out of the way for someone to pass. His skin feels warm against my own. "So like I get the whole OGs having a soft spot for you thing cause of Artemis but how'd you manage to soften up Batman?"

I hum a bit, looming through clothes racks. "Before moving into the mountain to stay with Conner I use to live with Arty and Wally. When they were away on missions I would stay with Nightwing. Aka I use to stay with Batman when they were away."

"Oh," Jaime says, taking some of the clothes I've picked up out of my arms. "Does that mean one day you'll inherit Lex Corporation?"

"Hmm... I never thought about that. I mean if Conner never has kids of his own I guess so."

————————————

"Did you have fun?" I ask Jaime as he helps carry my bags to my room.

"I mean I wouldn't willingly spend my whole day shopping but it wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be," he answers, setting my bags on the floor before flopping on my bed.

I do mostly the same; taking the time to hang up my gala dress before joining Jaime on my bed. "So you got to know all about my gold digging ways today, what do I get to know about you in return?" I ask, rolling to my side to look at the boy in my bed. Save a horse, ride a cow- nope. There will be no cowboy riding today.

"What do you want to know?" He asks, turning his head towards me. It takes me a second to get my thoughts straight, shifting around for basic things I want to know about Jaime while trying to push down the thoughts of kissing him.

“Where are you from?” I ask, wiggling closer to him to test the waters.

“Texas,” He answers, not so secretly glancing down my body.

“Well ya I know that. Where in Texas?” I push, shifting so close that our noses are almost rubbing.

“El Paso,” he whispers as his eyes lock on my lips. Jaime shifts his head up as his hands wrap around my hips. He softly pulls me towards him. I oblige, sliding myself on to his lap. “You know, I usually don’t take a liking to people swooping in to save me,” he says, our lips barely brushing against each others as he talks.

“Ya?” I ask, placing my hands above each of his shoulders to steady myself. Maybe I will be saving a horse tonight.

“Ya, but being saved by a pretty girl like you has been nice,” Jaime says, sliding his hands down to cup my ass.

I close the gap between us, finally pushing my lips against Jaime’s. The kiss is cut short though, by my bedroom door slamming open. “I told you not to be touchy!” Conner yells as he storms into the room.

“Hate to break it to you Reyes but I can’t save you from this one,” I whisper against his lips, teasing the boy under me.

#jaime reyes oneshot #jaime reyes x reader #young justice #young justice oneshot #jaime reyes #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle one shot #blue beetle

107 notes · View notes

betelgrouse · 1 year

Note

Your Jaime Lannister smut is pure perfection. Please write more like this. Preferably with him dominant (but the reader is as sarcastic as him), but anything else will do too. Seriously, good smutty writing.

Oh my gosh, this is the kindest comment, I can't tell you how much it means!!! You seriously just made my whole week, thank you. <3

Here's a soft and smutty little piece written especially for you with a romantic dom jaime :) I have a few other drafts in the works, so stay tuned ;)

Morning Air (Jaime Lannister x reader)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1k

Summary: A glimpse into a soft (but smutty) morning with your husband, the Lord of Casterly Rock.

(Soft dom!jaime and soft sub!reader; oneshot; tried to make the reader gender neutral, but feedback much appreciated!)

Warnings: language, unprotected penetrative sex, romance (read at your own emotional risk!), nikolaj coster-waldau's problematically good looks

Note: two handed jaime (but he's perfect with any number of hands!)

The sun was streaming through the open balcony doors, and a cool ocean breeze gently lifted the long, translucent curtains as it entered the room, carrying the scent of saltwater and sunshine with it. You could hear ocean waves rhythmically splashing on the rocks below as you woke, a sound just slightly slower paced than your husband's breathing next to you. The view from Casterly Rock was lovely in the morning, but you'd rather look at the man sleeping next to you. The Seven must have sculpted him with their own hands, you thought. Closed eyes beneath a crown of golden hair, and a strong, lean body beneath the sand-coloured bedsheets. Your eyes roamed down to his chest and arms, marked with the occasional faded scar; no one had landed a blow on the Kingslayer in a long time, thank the Gods.

His body shifted, and you looked back up to meet Jaime's warm gaze. He reached out, gently cupping your face, and kissed you slowly. He pulled back, hovering over you, blonde hair just brushing your forehead.

"You looked like you wanted something from me," Jaime murmured, tracing your lips with his thumb. Still holding your face, Jaime ran his other hand up your leg, drawing circles on your inner thigh. "Tell me what you want, love."

You smiled up at him softly. "I want you to be on time for your morning briefings with your council. For once this week," you teased.

"If you don't want me to fuck you in the morning," Jaime whispered against your lips, "you shouldn't wake up looking so lovely." His fingers slid higher, and he started rubbing small circles on your clitoris [or tip]. You felt your legs start to spread open.

You reached down to reciprocate, but he lifted his hand from your face and stopped you. He lifted your hand to his lips before pinning it to the bed, all while drawing those circles that were already starting to make you come undone.

"Besides, I don't think you really want me to leave so soon, do you?" Jaime mused, smirking at the face you make as he slips a finger inside you, adding to the rhythm. "Do I really leave you so unsatisfied?"

You both knew the answer to his question, but he just loved to tease you. He added another finger, pumping in and out of you a bit harder now. You started moving your hips with the rhythm involuntarily. Gods, it felt good. He always felt so good.

He planted a kiss beside your ear. "Well?" he inquired, increasing his pace.

"Well what?" you asked back, somewhat more breathlessly than you had intended.

"Do you want me to stop?" His eyes glittered mischievously.

"No," you gasped out. His fingers were good, but you wanted him inside you. He really was going to make you beg him for it, wasn't he?

"What do you want, my darling?" He's so cocky, you thought. Well, when he looks like that, I guess he can be.

"I want you to..." You still blushed saying such vulgar words, which is exactly why Jaime loved to get you to say them. "I want you to fuck me."

Jaime grinned. "What was that, love? I didn't hear you."

Oh, his arrogant, annoying, perfect face, you thought. "I want you to fuck me, Jaime, and I want you to fuck me right now."

"If you insist." He grinned even wider, evidently quite pleased with himself. Holding your thigh, he sank himself into you, groaning deliciously in your ear. He rocked in and out of you, hitting that spot inside you over and over again. The fucking felt amazing, of course, but you also loved how his chest moved against yours like the tide meeting the beach, and how you saw that same pleasure you were feeling echoed back at you in Jaime's eyes with every thrust.

You two were tangled up together, legs crossed, faces touching. He gently tugged your hair, tilting your head back so he could plant sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You met his lips and savoured the taste of him, his warmth, his softness.

You felt your climax coming and let it crash through you in waves, like the ocean below. Jaime felt your muscles tighten and he fucked you through your orgasm before his own climax hit him. He came deep inside you, his body weight pressing down on you and his breathing ragged in your ear. You took a deep breath, taking in the fresh ocean air and the smell of him, and thought there really couldn't be anything better.

After a moment, Jaime sat up and poured a cup of water, offering it to you before pouring one for himself. You expected him to rise and get dressed for the day, but he just sipped his water and looked at you with an enigmatic expression, as if deciding something.

"What is it?" You raise your eyebrows at him and smile. You can't help but smile when you look at him.

Jaime silently returns both cups to the table beside him before rolling back on top of you, head buried in the crook of your neck. You laugh and slide your hand into his hair, gently playing with it. His hair gleams like real gold in the sunlight, you muse.

"You're going to miss your briefings again," you press, but you're holding him and you don't want to let him go.

"Shhhh," he responds, nuzzling closer into you.

You match your breathing with his, and your chests rise and fall together, like the rhythm of the sea below.

383 notes · View notes

sanjisboyfie · 4 months

Note

It seems that sanji has a very complex/complicated and nuanced relationship with reader given your hcs. Like at first he treats reader like every other guy, then it develops into something more where he actually favors him more than the guys and girls, to full blown feelings, which THEN develops to the point where he becomes super possessive and jealous if reader gives others attention to where even he stops his womanizing habits😭 it’s a pretty intriguing development when you put it like that since falling for a guy is completely new territory for a man like sanji and I’m all for it!!

sososo late replying to this im so sorry but i have literally been thinking about this isnce youve sent it anon !!! because its either i imagine sanji falling for a guy to mimic this + original headcanon

it could either be, he's all in and he doesn't even know how he ended up like that. not to say that his mannerisms (really flirty) change overnight, but more like his mentality??? changes really fast. like before he even realizes he is emotionally invested in reader, he will most probably still be flirting w nami and robin, but internally being like "why am i flirting with them again..." and to him, it probably feels "right" - like a routine - to jus wake up and shower them with compliments, but overtime he starts thinking like why am i not complimenting him though because hes even more beautiful than they are...and before he realizes that he actually LIKES a man, he's already acting on it. like his heart and body know before his head doe. if that makes sense....I HOPE IT DOES.

SANJI IS A SUPER COMPLEX CHARACTER WHEN U PUT HIM IN MALE READER INSERTS AND THERE ARE SO MANY WAYS HE CAN REACT/ACT TO A MALE READER, but what the original headcanon + what you've added in (lovely anon tysm muah), and that ^ are my personal favorite ways of thinking about him <3 (which is very often)

#jaime is speaking #I LOVE U GUYS #U GUYS ARE SO AMAZING ANA DINTELELECTUAL #like wow wdym u smart individuals are following me #a silly stupid individual #its so funny a #love u all sm #ill probably play on this idea more in a future hc/oneshot because its so fun #sanji is a versatile man i can project all my ideas on #dont yell at me

20 notes · View notes

tessimagines · 1 year

Note

❤ + jaime lannister + 😢

Glimpses // Jaime Lannister

Summary: Jaime catches a glimpse of the reader in the Red Keep’s Garden.

Warnings: A little splash of angst and Cersei (that’s a warning right?)

Masterlist | Game of Thrones Masterlist

Wordcount: 376

Her back is turned to him. He can see her hair shining in the King’s Landing sun, long, flowing and free. She strolls through the Garden of the Red Keep, her fingers running along the flowers that line the bush beside her. Her dress is a light green, the edges of it lined with a gold thread that shines bright and strong in the sun. To him, she seems to glow, standing out brighter than any of the flowers that surround her.

This is not the first time that Jaime has seen her. In the last few weeks, he has seen her make her way around the Red Keep. He’s passed her in the corridor, watched her in the throne room. He’s seen her walk around this very Garden before, her arm linked with the likes of Loras Tyrell.

It wasn’t jealousy he felt. He doesn’t know her of course. But there was still this unusual and uncomfortable feeling that bubbled just under the surface of his skin. There was this yearning to know her, to hear her voice speak to him, not just from a distance while she talks to a friend. He wanted to find out how easy it would be to make her laugh or smile.

She enticed him. It was a type of curiosity he had never quite felt before. As exciting as it was, however, it also left Jaime with a sense of dread. It knotted itself deep and tight inside his stomach every time he felt his gaze linger on her for a little too long.

In front of him, she turns around. Her eyes lock with his for half a second, but to Jaime, it seems longer than that. He watches the edge of her lips curl up into a small smile before she turns her back again, continuing in her stroll through the Garden.

The door behind Jaime opens with a crash. It breaks his focus on her and he stumbles, turning around to face his sister. He watches as her green eyes dart behind him, landing on the woman standing amongst the flowers. She looks back at him, her features cold and harsh.

Without a word, she walks past him, a single finger beckoning him to follow.

Thanks for requesting @janedoe2080!

Check out my Back-to-Writing Celebration and make your own request here

#game of thrones imagines #game of thrones x reader #jaime lannister imagines #jaimie lannister x reader #game of thrones oneshots #jaime lannister oneshots #game of thrones drabbles #jaime lannister drabbles #tessimagines #tess' back-to-writing celebration

105 notes · View notes

runawayolives · 2 years

Text

How you knew you were pregnant with Jason

A First day series Drabble

Stranger Things Masterlist

Knowing you and Peter, the pregnancy wasn’t a surprise, in fact it was very planned.

You had been trying for about two months, but without feeling any pressure to get pregnant. You both had decided that if it happened, it happened, and if it didn’t, that it was fine.

Even with the planning, you were still nervous when you took the pregnancy test. One of the secretaries in the law firm had been mentioning the symptoms her daughter had and how she had know the moment her child told her about them.

You didn’t have any morning sickness or any other common early symptom, but it still made you wonder about a possible pregnancy.

After you left the firm, you went straight to the nearest convenience store and got three tests. You then drove home, said hello to El and Peter, who were watching some cartoon and went straight into the bathroom.

Even if you and Peter hadn’t felt pressured to get pregnant, you weren’t sure about telling him after you got the results. So you waited, on the toilet lid, until the timer was up and you were given the results.

Looking at the three of them, and after having a small private moment with the tiny fetus inside of you.

Once you were able to more or less wrap your mind around it, you went downstairs after changing from the suit to more comfortable clothing to tell your little family.

You first called Peter into the kitchen, to tell him privately and so that you could decide together how to tell your daughter currently sitting on the living room couch.

Once you told him, your husband tightly hugged you and placed his hands were a bump would eventually form.

“I cannot believe it, honey. Are you 100% sure?” After Peter made sure that it was certain you were pregnant, he dragged you to the living room to tell El the good news.

You had only been living in Hawkins for about four months, but the progress the young girl had done on her vocabulary was astonishing. Peter and her would finish books in less that and week, and would still have time to learn about history and math.

Telling El had been memorable, to say the least. Once her father told her the news (she had been dad and mom for about two months), the little girl was only confused.

“Mommy has a child in her tummy?” Peter crouched down to be at her eye leven and answered all of her questions until a very important one was made.

“But how did it get there?” You husband turned around to look at you, not knowing where to start.

Nonetheless, Eleven was excited about the prospect about having a younger sibling, and made sure to come up with baby names. These were names she read or heard, and it made your heart swell knowing how much excitement the girl had about being an older sister.

AN: Thank you for reading this part of the First day series, I hope you liked it.

Requests are open for short fics about this series! So it you have an idea you would like to see, send it to my inbox and I’ll see what I can do!

380 notes · View notes

yandere-toons · 2 years

Text

A Fool's Mistake 3: Taking the Black | Platonic Scenario

Yandere!Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Joffrey Baratheon, Ramsay Bolton

WARNING: abuse of power, morally ambiguous reader, reality warping, strong and bloody violence, mentions of physical torture.

WORD COUNT: 7.825

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (You are here)

The silhouettes of free folk dashed between trees and rocks in the silverish light of the full moon. They were clothed in the skins of woodland animals, and they wielded with much dexterity a combination of bows, axes and spears crafted from the forest.

Droves of the free folk had begun to scale the Wall at yesterday's sunset and, from midnight to daybreak, had reached the point where falling meant certain death. Despite enough time passing for the sun to peek over the mountaintop, the space that surrounded the free folk remained dark as night.

The sky was black but held no stars as if drapes had been thrown over the earth. The top of the Wall, a summit that appeared taller than the clouds, was covered in impenetrable darkness. Glimmers of sunlight skirted the darkness, and the scarce light traced the shape of a bubble around the free folk who dared to rise.

The ground was no longer visible to those who looked down in the hope of descending the Wall and testing the climb another day. The ice wall in front of them and the makeshift tools used to hook it was all that met their eyes beyond the shadows.

Whispers seeped into the ears of the free folk, whispers that resembled the faint voices of the people climbing with them. The voices asked for the location of the other free folk, asked after their health and encouraged them to resume the climb.

Once the first ragged antler and stake impaled the ice at the top of the Wall, the free folk realised that their vision had been dulling. In the final moments of heaving oneself onto the Wall, each member of the expedition noted themselves to be the only living thing there.

The sight that greeted them flashed back and forth between the bodies of their fellow free folk and an empty stretch of ice. The shadows warped their eye and seemed to drill into their heads before the darkness took them to the ground far below.

When no birds sang and the air became colder than the depths of a northern pond, you watched for creatures with blue eyes and ghostly skin.

Except for the occasional lash of shadows at the base of snowy trees, the woods lay motionless and free of dark magic on this hour. The current flowing from the distant Bay of Seals was tumultuous and churned as if locked in a storm, but it carried nothing more than the rare howl and rush of icy breath.

* * *

With his wrists bound to the back of a chair and his ankles tied to the wood legs, the sole mercenary to survive the recent battle at the Dreadfort sat in his own sweat. A mob of Bolton soldiers encircled him with their swords raised and their eyes locked on whichever part of him they were most inclined to cut.

The large door to the dining hall creaked open in an outward swing of metal and bending joints. Ramsay Bolton stormed into the room, his fingers playing with a gore-drenched knife.

After a moment of examining the mercenary, the immediate wrath flaring on his face waned and evolved into morbid curiosity. “I remember you.” Ramsay tilted his head and scanned the man's visible wounds and foul odour to confirm his suspicion.

It was then that the mercenary's stomach dropped to bottomless depths, and he began to whisper prayers for the mercy of the Mother.

Unlike the frantic turns and agitated stomps of earlier, Ramsay's next movements were slower and dominated by quiet steps that struck a greater panic in the heart of the mercenary each time. “You took a long look at them.”

From his pocket came the glint of a knife, prompting the mercenary to squirm against the ropes and expel a whimper. Ramsay twirled the weapon in his right hand and conveyed a taste of future pain with unrepentant eye contact. “Just before you tried to kill them.”

Before the tip of the steel could blind the mercenary, the harsh voice of Roose Bolton echoed in the dining hall and overpowered any wails spilling out of the mercenary. “Ramsay!”

The sound was little more than a growl, and Ramsay paused with his knife hovering just in front of the mercenary's eyeball.

The violent shake gripping his arm did not cease, spreading to his lips and upper body as he stared into the mercenary's terror with bubbling insanity that flailed against the bridle he was compelled to put on it. Ramsay vented slivers of his untapped rage through the tremulous breaths whipping past his bared teeth.

While the soldiers beside him kept a tight hold on their swords, Roose did not allow his voice to waver: “We need this one alive.”

The blade was so close that the mercenary's eyelashes brushed it every time he blinked. It quivered with the threat of twitching too far and impaling his skull before he could release a full scream, but Ramsay seemed to find enough delight in his father's command that he turned his head away.

“Oh, he'll live.”

Just as the knife reeled back and then plunged forward, a booming announcement sounded from Roose. “We're going on a diplomatic mission to White Harbor.”

Ramsay listened to his father with a distracted mind plagued by runaway thoughts and bits of emotion he could not manage, his eyes flitting between Roose and the nearest objects while his fingers twitched with ideas of what pain to inflict on the captured mercenary. “When will you return?”

Roose looked upon his struggle with amusement and indifference. “You should know. You're coming with me.”

As if Roose had revoked his legitimacy as the heir, Ramsay raised his head and widened his eyes. The tension clenching his shoulders and jaw shifted to confused glances, and his lips moved to search for the appropriate response that changed with each surge of dissatisfaction and the sense of a goal stepping out of his reach.

“My place is here. I have rallied the men.”

Roose began to approach the main entrance to the fortress and did not slow his stride. “Your place is where I say it is.”

Ramsay stopped walking, but Roose ignored the vicious stare drilling into the back of his head. “Father,” murmured Ramsay, and his next words were spoken through gritted teeth. “I need to find them.”

Roose took a final, definitive step forward and turned, the bottom of his cloak gliding across the floor. “There will be a time for that. Right now, what you need to do is mount a horse and ride with me to White Harbor.”

* * *

The chambers of Tyrion Lannister stank of wine on most nights, but the scent was especially potent on this night. An empty flagon sat at the foot of a luxurious chair, which Tyrion used to rest his legs while he put his mouth to the work of downing every glass he could fill.

With his knuckles pressed underneath his chin, Tyrion observed the half-full goblet with a curious glint in his eye. He laid his hand over the top of it and waited in silence for many a second.

When he retracted his hand and peeked into the cup, a foolish part of him hoped that it would be full again. A layer of wine at the bottom was all that greeted him. Tyrion hurled the goblet at the wall, and a thick wave of blackberry wine exploded onto the stone.

The glass clattered to the floor and rolled into the leg of a chair, streaks of reddish-purple cascading down the rock and draining into the crevices. Droplets continued to seep from the rim of the cup as trails of the dark liquor mixed with the red of a Lannister banner and fell behind a dresser.

As the door slammed behind him, Tyrion stamped past the duo of guards protecting his chambers and snapped his fingers. “With me.”

The guards lifted their shields from the floor and hurried to follow.

Tyrion marched down the corridor with a palace guard on his left and his right. Flanked by the men, he rounded a corner and leaned forward to place his hands upon an ornate set of double doors.

He pushed open the door to Cersei's chambers and found her sitting at the table beside the balcony, a glass in her hand and red wine on her lips. The rattles of the guards' swords and armour must have been loud in the silent halls, for she was facing the entrance without a lick of surprise.

She lowered the glass and eyed him as if he were an insect that had crawled into her bedroom from a hole in the wall. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tyrion widened his eyes and removed his hands from the door, allowing it to shut at his back. “I was concerned,” he lied, feigning fear in an exaggerated, deliberately obvious manner. “Just the other day, a man had his throat slit for sleeping.”

Cersei kept her voice low as though others were in danger of listening. “I believe that to be the work of our mutual friend.” She placed distinct acrimony on the word “friend,” her lip curling.

As her gaze drifted off to the cityscape outside her balcony, Tyrion wondered if the bitterness came from her belief that the word was untrue or the implication that the two of them could ever share a companion. “Don't tell that to the king. He was quite upset at having his prized day interrupted.”

The hand that held onto the wine glass began to shake, and Cersei refrained from looking at her brother. “Joffrey won't see me.” A heaviness existed in her words, a quiet misery that she was attempting to drown in wine.

Tyrion kept his frown level. “Oh, yes. Not since you promised the sorcerer would find their own way back to him, a promise that has yet to be fulfilled.” He tilted his head upon saying the second bit.

Cersei shut her eyes and clenched her teeth slightly, refusing to let the posh smile on her lips fall. She opened her eyes and glanced in his direction when the soft thuds of footsteps came near the table.

A chair squealed as it was pulled from under the table, and Tyrion plopped on it with his hands resting close to Cersei's. “If I say it, I would be branded an enemy of the crown and lose my head within the hour. Perhaps Jaime?”

She turned farther away and fixed her eye on the open doors to the balcony. “Joffrey's working him like a dog.”

A slight sigh rolled out of him, and Tyrion closed his eyes for a pensive instant before opening them with a degree of sympathy. “If Jaime could be here with you, he would be.” He unfurled his arms, turned his palms to the ceiling, and gestured to the bedroom.

Lifting the glass, Cersei took another sip. “I'm not so sure.”

* * *

The courtyard of the Red Keep smelt of pollen as a medley of berry bushes and wildflowers bloomed in the light of day. The leafy grass was green as the coat of arms from House Tyrell of Highgarden, and it swayed in a cool breeze that was welcomed by the lords and ladies dilly-dallying in the sun.

From the generous lengths of the surrounding corridors, Varys and Petyr Baelish strolled into the small garden. Each one moved in tandem with the other just enough to keep up the illusion of leisure and signify that the interaction would not end until one of them deviated from the path.

“The Boltons are a minute settlement thousands of miles away in the North with one fiefdom no larger than my biggest brothel,” said Petyr.

A slight nod of the head came from Varys. “Yes, but some of my little birds have flown north for the summer.”

“And what songs do they sing?” asked Petyr, his lips casting the shadow of a smile as he walked past a servant girl consorting with a visiting lord.

Varys spotted similar goings-on in a corner of the garden ahead, and he cast his gaze in the direction of the man beside him. “They sing that the Bolton's youngest is unbalanced yet terribly ambitious. Certainly one to watch.”

Petyr slowed to a stop and turned on the heels of his boots. He blinked slowly and released a modest sigh, his eyes flickering to his surroundings while his voice quieted. “He's one man with neither the stomach nor the mind for the South.”

Varys looked askance, tilted his head, and raised his shoulders a bit as if considering Petyr's words. “One man nearly toppled the realm not so long ago,” he replied.

The subtlest chuckle—no more than an audible exhale—slipped out of Petyr. His neck bent towards the ground slightly, and his attention remained on the cobblestone patterns flowing beneath him for a contemplative instant. “Indeed,” he conceded. “I have to go.”

Varys bowed his head. “Ah, very well.” He lifted his eyes to catch sight of Petyr slinking to the edge of the garden. “Perhaps we can speak again soon, Lord Baelish.”

As the shadow cast by the arch of the Red Keep fell over him, Petyr turned and offered a glib smile. “Perhaps we can, Lord Varys.”

* * *

Every man atop the Wall was struck by an unearthly coldness that night.

No matter how thick the coats around their shoulders were, the wind sliced their face and nipped any exposed skin with its frosty claws. The cold dove into their bones and seemed to chill them from the inside out.

Despite being rekindled every other minute, the light of the torches was dimmer here. The fog of the night was murkier than the bottom of a bog. The fires were short-lived, swept away into simmering embers by sudden and isolated gusts.

The same light that would have illuminated your body was extinguished by the wind. The brother in charge of relighting it swore under his breath. When he peered at you in wonderment of your apparent resistance to the frigid weather, a shiver ran through him as if he had been stuck with a frost-tipped spear.

It killed the words on his tongue.

The dark around you seemed deeper and more foreboding than any cave, unaffected by light even as the moon beamed down upon it. The brother saw the outline of you hidden in the darkness, and it was all he needed to see to decide that the remainder of his watch was someone else's responsibility for the night.

In the ensuing calm, your head surveyed one end of the forest below to the other.

No figures had crept out of the woods yet.

The clanks and grinds of the lift rising to the top of the Wall sounded from behind, and Samwell Tarly stepped off it into the snow. The soft, pearly white material was crushed under his heavy boots. After a brief pause, his footsteps approached you and stopped at your side.

Your head slowly turned, which allowed you to catch Sam peeking in your direction. He glanced downwards and released a bashful chuckle upon being caught, but a look of childish excitement soon washed over his full face. “Jon says you're a wizard!”

The snow crunched as Sam shuffled his feet, his gaze darting from his shoes to you. “I've never seen a real wizard before!” He shifted again and failed to restrain the huge grin breaking out across his lips. “Only read about them in books,” he added, somewhat lowering his voice.

Sam leaned forward and looked up and down at your iron mask and dark robes. “Do you all dress like that?” He outstretched his arms to push his cloak back and looked at his own black coat and armour. “Maybe we're more alike than I thought!” What escaped him next was a quick, “Ha!”

He turned his head back to you and kept his mouth open slightly as if expecting you to agree, but your continued silence prompted his smile to falter.

As his eyes searched the snowy darkness that lay in front of him, Sam shook his head. “My father detests wizards. Thinks magic's for nellies who don't want to fight.” There was a layer of distaste and pain to his words as though repeating his father's opinion had poisoned his tongue and caused a bad memory to churn within his mind.

“Not me,” he blurted, his head bouncing towards you before moving back again. Sam leaned over and patted his chest with both hands once. “Big fan.”

As Sam marvelled at his proximity to a real magic user, the lift descended into the bowels of Castle Black and then rose to the top of the Wall after a few minutes of rasping. The dark-haired Jon Snow emerged from the fiery light of the lift with a torch in hand.

“Sam,” was all he said, and Sam fell silent.

Jon nodded at him with a tiny smile when Sam turned and offered a happy, “Hello, Jon!” Sam stepped back to allow Jon room to walk forward and stand diagonal to him.

Although he was addressing more than one person, Jon kept his eyes focused on your mask. “If it's all right with you, I'd like to speak with Brother Black alone.”

Sam lost his smile for a moment, but it returned with a shrug of his shoulders and another shift of his feet. “Of course! Of course!” He distanced himself from where he had been standing and motioned for you to go with Jon. “I'll just be here.”

Jon bid him farewell before marching farther down the Wall, the light of the torch undulating in the icy wind.

As the orange glow started to vanish from sight, Sam looked away and faced the edge of the Wall. “I ought to be checking on Gilly.” Fond memories of the woman softened his voice and provided some warmth against the cold. “Sweet Gilly.”

No one answered but the howl of the wind.

Sam inhaled through his nose and allowed the silence to live for a couple of seconds before he sighed: “Boy, it's cold up here.”

The journey ended after roughly ten minutes of walking, and Jon turned to give you a cursory scan. In his eyes were suspicion, curiosity and more than a token of discomfort. His breath was visible in the cold, flowing upward as he turned to overlook the cliff.

“The other brothers don't feel safe around you. They need to know they can trust the man standing next to them.” A flash of uncertainty overtook him in a sweep of cold wind, and Jon turned his head to look at you as if for the first time. “You are a man, right?”

There was a carefulness to his words as though you might shed your veil of humanity and lunge at him before he took another breath, his legs shifting with a rattle of his heavy armour and his hand confirming its place on the pommel of his sword.

A gust of air wafted from the lower slit in your mask and floated into the night sky.

Holding the silence as the grey cloud dispersed into the darkness looming above the castle, Jon chose not to pursue such thoughts and gave a single nod. “Right.”

* * *

The flaps of wings preceded the caws of a raven, and the bird landed its coat of snow-dappled feathers on the stone frame of the window. It raised its left leg as if it were limp and turned its black eyes to Jon, revealing a scroll tied to its lean body.

Jon approached the raven as it continued to caw and move its head in sudden, jerky motions.

“I haven't sent for any wandering crows,” mumbled Alliser Thorne, who waved at Jon to receive the letter when he paused at his comment.

The bird twitched and hopped whilst the scroll was taken from its leg, and once the gloved hand released it, the raven flew into the white skies with a string of caws.

As Jon brushed his thumb across the reddish-pink seal, the emblem of an upside-down flayed man sent a wave of apprehension over his body. The impulsive part of him said to toss the letter into the fire and never wonder about its contents, but the impatient gaze of Alliser demanded that he push his misgivings aside.

“Well?” came the older man's disgruntled voice.

“It's the sigil of House Bolton, ser.” Jon glanced between the Lord Commander and the scroll, struggling to void all of his concerns but stepping forward with dutiful haste.

Alliser nodded his head and quirked his eyebrows as if coaching a child. “I can see that. Would you care to read it?”

Inspecting the seal one last time, Jon broke it with a snap and unfolded the parchment. “Dear the men of the Night's Watch, it has come to my attention that you recently brought a sorcerer into your ranks.”

His volume tapered after every few words as if seeking to lessen the blow of an expected threat, but as the inky texture of the crooked and misplaced lines stretched and fell before his eyes, he realised it was a continuous promise of danger:

“Their allegiance belongs to House Bolton. If you do not return them to me, I shall flay you living and make you watch as I tear your brother's still-beating heart from his chest and feed it to my hounds.”

Jon lost much of his interest in reading the message and looked askance at Alliser for the sake of averting his eyes from the letter. When the Lord Commander returned his gaze with stunned silence and a minor shift in his position, Jon proceeded to the end.

“Two fortnights it will take for me to march on your pathetic excuse for a castle, so two fortnights you shall have to act.”

Despite the reluctance plaguing his hold on the scroll as if touching it would transmit a disease, Jon took only a second to recuperate and finished with a weary drop in his tone. “Signed Ramsay Bolton, Acting Lord of the Dreadfort.”

He tucked the parchment and lowered his arms to his side, casting a pensive look over the glow of the fire before turning his eyes to the Lord Commander.

“Inane ramblings from a madman,” spat Alliser with a sharp turn of his head. The man tugged a quill out of the inkpot on his desk and slammed a piece of blank paper onto its surface.

Jon watched the quivers of his hand and the words they wrote becoming clearer as the ink dried, but the scratches of the quill marking the parchment were overshadowed by a quick step forward. “Ser, the Boltons are a ruthless people. We shouldn't take anything they say to be idle threats.”

The Lord Commander refused to look away from his writing or slow the motions of his hand. “Roose Bolton is a few steps short of a wildling in lord's clothing. As for his son, I've never met him.” He finished the letter with a flourish. “And I'd like to keep it that way.”

The thud of a seal echoed in the room before it was replaced by the creak of a chair sliding across the floor, and Jon clutched the letter that was pushed into his hand.

“Give this to Maester Aemon. Tell him to send it immediately. When it's done, have a brother ride to Mole's Town.”

As Alliser marched out the door to his chambers, Jon followed and overheard his yells to the congregation of Night's Watchmen standing below. “Increase the patrols! I want a fresh man at those gates for every hour!”

The group lifted their swords and scattered throughout the courtyard, while Jon hastened his walk to the library. Orders were shouted into the wind, and the collective rattle of armour and thump of boots faded into the background.

Jon entered the library a bit louder than he intended. The door slammed behind him when a strong wind pulled it forward, causing both he and Maester Aemon to jump.

A mumble slipped out of Maester Aemon as he ran his fingers across the Braille in the book of dragons he had been delighting in reading. The table at which he was seated was strewn with a variety of books. It stood in the centre of the room, and it was bordered by tall bookcases full of centuries of knowledge.

Stepping forward, Jon extended the scroll and approached the table. “Maester Aemon, I have an urgent scroll from the Lord Commander.”

Maester Aemon took the sealed scroll from him, running his fingertips along the seal and parchment. “Oh,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. He turned back to the books in front of him and heaved himself from the rickety chair.

As soon as he had started to drag himself forward, a chill washed down his spine as if dunked in ice water. He slowly turned his head and fixed his blind eyes on the farthest corner of the library.

There existed a deep shadow, swirling and spreading like tar. It seemed to emanate from the wall itself, and Maester Aemon took notice of whispers filling the back of his mind. They spoke in ancient tongues with otherworldly inflections that echoed in every part of the library.

His chapped lips struggled to find his brittle voice. “Who are you?”

Jon stilled and followed his gaze, but he saw nothing more than ordinary darkness. “Maester Aemon?”

A few mumbles crept out of Maester Aemon, each one disjointed and confused. He turned his head back and forth between the stone floor, the nearest bookshelf and Jon. His eyes were lost and searching for something unknown to Jon.

“Oh, never mind,” he said softly, for the whispers had ceased.

Tucked away behind a wood column, on the corner of a table set against the wall, was a rectangular coop. Tufts of hay and wheat laid on the bottom and provided the footing for the assortment of ravens scuttling inside.

Maester Aemon shambled to the coop and peeled open its small door. With both hands, he lifted a raven from the enclosure. The bird went limp in his hold, its head facing downward and its legs sticking out.

He equipped the raven with a leather cylinder on its left leg into which he inserted the scroll. Once the latch on the cylinder was pinched shut, Maester Aemon retreated to allow for the raven to take flight with a flutter of wings.

Jon watched as it glided through the short window at the base of the ceiling, and he wondered why a raven was necessary if a brother was riding to the town. His first thought was the scroll contained additional information that the brother was not privy to learn.

The answer came when he caught sight of the raven flying southeast instead of towards Mole's Town.

Before he could question the destination, Samwell Tarly burst into the library. Sam doubled over and placed a hand over his palpitating heart, breathing as a runner would after a race. “Jon!” he panted, “We're needed at the King's Tower!”

Two pairs of footsteps rushed to the walkway outside the library.

Jon collided with the guardrail and grasped the top of it, leaning forward to get a closer look at the discord unfolding in the courtyard.

Night's Watchmen streamed into the corridors overlooking the main entrance, a group of five rangers rode astride on horses, and the brassy call of a horn sounded over the din of brothers hauling weapons and scaling sentry towers.

As the rangers poured into the stables, Jon looked farther and noticed a circle of brothers marching in tandem with you to the opening doors.

* * *

The chairs of Merman's Court were cushioned with the finest silk. They complemented the long table stretching from the foyer to the throne, which lay decorated with a nautical tablecloth and various plates of pork pies, roasted eels and fried lampreys.

The food, warmed still by the steam of the fires, smelt of spice and gravy. The dead and cooked fish swam in the sauce and drank mouthfuls in a vile parody of life, a life that the oceanic paintings lining the walls and ceiling illustrated in vivid colour.

The guards who watched over the feast resembled the type of warriors one expected to see in a submarine kingdom, for the weapons clutched in their hands were tridents.

Lord Manderly sat in a velvet chair similar to his throne, which he had joked about bringing to the table more than once. The Boltons were seated opposite him, and sitting beside them were Lord Cerwyn and his son Cley.

While Roose met the eyes of each lord, Ramsay turned his gaze downwards and divvied his attention between the various items of food covering his plate. Roose glanced in his direction when Ramsay's hand found its way to the knife.

“Forgive my son's lethargy. He is weary from our travels.”

Lord Manderly drew his eyebrows to his receding hairline and stretched his lips in a royal imitation of surprise. “Is he an old man?” Lord Cerwyn joined his chuckles with bountiful enthusiasm, neither lord acknowledging how Ramsay slowly lifted his head.

Malice radiated from the young Bolton like foul breath from a dog's jaws, but, sensing the gaze of his father, he mustered a polite smile.

Roose waited for the laughter to fade into a pregnant silence before he seized control of the discussion. “Our merchants are reporting that they've been turned away from the gates of White Harbor, some at swordpoint.”

Lord Manderly tore a chunk of bread from the strudel and ate it at a comfortable speed, peering across the feast rather than at Roose. “Aye, you'll have to find somewhere else to dump your subpar goods.”

A screech resounded in the dining hall as Ramsay yanked the blade of his knife a short distance across the wood, and he looked at Lord Manderly without raising his head. “Watch your tongue.”

Lord Manderly stopped chewing and faced the young Bolton's desire to maim him with a combination of surprise and umbrage.

At the stern look of Roose, Ramsay lowered his gaze and resumed carving a furrow into the table.

Lord Cerwyn shared an unsettled glance with his son, turning his eye to Roose when Roose looked away from Ramsay and spoke with far more elegance. “The Boltons have traded with the other Northern houses for years, and I haven't had complaints from House Cerwyn or House Umber.”

The weathered face of Lord Manderly acquired a sombre quality. “Ah, Umber. I heard what happened to Gareth's fifth-born. A right tragedy, that.”

A stillness came over Ramsay, his hand pausing and his eyes refusing to look anywhere but at the plate.

There was no visible change in Roose's demeanour, but he offered no words of sympathy.

Lord Cerwyn picked his tankard off the table and turned to Lord Manderly. “One less Umber. That's a start.” The two men descended into a hearty roar of joy and bumped their cups together, while the Boltons watched in quiet amusement.

When the lords joked and drank without a care for the original discussion, Roose spoke with enough strength to regain their attention but not appear demanding. “As Warden of the North, our trade is essential to Northern commerce.”

Lord Cerwyn, who had been gulping alcohol like a direwolf gorging itself on meat, lowered his cup to the table. With an eye roll, he muttered, “Oh, great. More Bolton furs and flayed skin. Just what this city needs.”

The hiss of a blade rang in the ears of every lord when Ramsay jumped from his seat and slammed the knife through Lord Cerwyn's finger. The bone was just barely visible, peeking out of the skin's edge as blood gushed from the exposed tendon in spurts.

A howl of agony bellowed from Lord Cerwyn, and he clutched his injured hand while reeling in his chair. His legs began to kick the stone floor, distress growing louder and more wild with each surge of pain that lashed his mind and dragged shrieks from him as if his finger were aflame.

As Cley started to shiver and seemed on the verge of tears, he stood with a sharp creak of wood on rock and rushed to help his father.

The corners of Ramsay's mouth twitched in a small release of tension, his pupils dilating at the screams and his hand squeezing the utensil. He did not blink once to sever his view of the desperate eyes and paling skin of Lord Cerwyn.

It was not until he turned to his father with a jerk of his head that he allowed his enthusiasm to wither, for Roose was looking at him with the unforgiving coldness of someone who regretted his son's birth.

Smile dropping, Ramsay attempted to win back his favour. “Father—”

Roose interrupted him with a frigid scowl. “Leave.”

Ramsay faced his father's tranquil rage in momentary shock, as though the man had ordered him to leave the realm instead of the room, his fingers tapping the knife before curling about it. He glanced at various spots on the walls and the table without focusing on any.

Hatred of the glare Roose was sending him and his own failure to meet the man's wishes quickened his breaths, and the young Bolton tore the blade out of the wooden surface.

A thin crater became visible on the table next to the disembodied finger, with jagged chips of wood rising to decorate there.

Ramsay took fervent and aggressive strides to the door and shoved it open. Gales of Northern wind swept into the hall like ice water, lifting his cloak as he stormed outside.

The slam of the door behind him cut the chilling breeze like a sword to the head of a great beast, and the return of the torches' warmth redirected the spotlight to the weakening cries of Lord Cerwyn.

“My wedding finger,” groaned Lord Cerwyn, his neck drooping and his eyes fluttering. “He took my wedding finger!”

The limb sitting on the table was adorned with a gold ring that glittered under the candlelight of the chandelier. Only droplets of blood still leaked from his knuckle, dripping onto the plate and tablecloth.

Cley guided him to his feet and positioned himself under his father's left arm, while Lord Cerwyn scrambled to retrieve his finger and cradled it in his other hand.

Lord Manderly tossed his napkin onto the fresh bloodstain infecting his tablecloth and peered at the man with an irritated side-eye. “Pipe down, Medger. It's not like you were using it for much.”

Lord Cerwyn squirmed in his son's grasp, continuing to whimper and holler as he was hurried to the door. Another gust of wind followed their exit, and Roose shifted to a more comfortable position on his chair and clasped his hands together. “So, the trade routes are to be reopened?”

Lord Manderly cocked his head and seemed to repress a scoff. “The chopped-off finger of a twat won't buy our obedience. Do you expect House Manderly to cower in fear?”

Roose presented a look of callous certainty. “I know you're going to lose more than fingers if another Bolton caravan returns empty-handed.”

This sparked a burst of resentment to twist the mouth of Lord Manderly. “You'd threaten a man in his own home? Need I remind you whose wine you're drinking?”

Crumbs from a pork pie tumbled down his fat chin as he took a greedy bite of one, and Roose eyed the meat pie sitting on Lord Manderly's plate. “Need I remind you who hunted the pigs you're eating, Wyman?”

Lord Manderly stopped his chewing. There was a threatening sort of emphasis placed on his first name, like someone dangling a steak over a hungry dog. The remaining chunk of pork pie hovered in front of his mouth, untouched.

A battle of eye contact came and went between the two lords before Lord Manderly dropped the chunk on his plate.

With a subdued sigh, he looked down and pushed his fork away from his dish. “Aye, you're a tough old codger, Roose.” Roose offered a slight smile at this, and Lord Manderly reclined on his chair. “I'm only doing it 'cause of pressure from the Lannisters.”

The mask of composure slipped from Roose's face for just a moment. “I see.” His eyes widened a bit before narrowing in discontent, looking over the feast once more. “It's a shame that the crown feels such a powerful need to meddle in our friendship.”

A laugh bellowed from Lord Manderly as if he had just been informed that the Dothraki had laid down their arms and become a peace-seeking civilisation.

Roose swung his cloak over his shoulder and left his chair with his mind far away in the depths of planning, but he remembered enough pleasantries to nod at the lord. “Be seeing you.”

When the senior Bolton pushed the door open, the sight of an agitated Ramsay fiddling with the bloody silverware eliminated any satisfaction he had gained from learning a piece of the truth.

The soldiers were all standing at a considerable distance from Ramsay, their eyes darting between him and the snowy land to avoid being noticed.

At the sound of boots crunching snow, Ramsay whirled about with a shudder. “Father, I—”

He was struggling to meet Roose's gaze, but his father walked past him. “Be quiet, Ramsay. Mount your horse.”

Hoofprints littered the snow from where Lord Cerwyn and his son had fled to obtain the services of a maester, their tracks disappearing into the blizzard in the northwestern direction of Castle Cerwyn.

Roose lifted himself onto his steed with minimal difficulty and turned his attention to the frosty water of the White Knife babbling nearby rather than grant his son a second of acknowledgement. “We're going home.”

Ramsay was slow to heed this command, his eyes drifting across the snow and clenching the knife so that it would have snapped if made of anything weaker than metal.

When he curled his lips in a question of whether to speak and squinted to deflect the rays of sunshine peeking over the rolling hills, the clop of hooves leaving the entrance to New Castle broke his concentration.

Roose had spurred his horse to trot in the opposite direction, and Ramsay clambered onto a horse of his own to follow.

The journey back to the Dreadfort was far longer and more tedious than last. The path meandered over hills and winded round rivers like a serpent slithering in the grass, with the overcast sky looking bleakly at the snow-covered ground below.

When Roose dismounted and allowed his horse to be spirited away to the stables, he said nothing. He did not grant Ramsay the briefest glance or quietest mutter, nor did he wait to see him return safely and dismount his own horse.

Listening to the footsteps tailing him grow louder and more erratic, Roose relented and turned with a dreary, if not vaguely sarcastic, frown. “The fault is mine. I thought you could better control yourself.”

Ramsay stopped to look at his father in an inability to process the discomfort preventing his mind from resting, his breaths slowing to allow for clearer thinking.

“You've embarrassed our house and disgraced our family name.” Roose watched as the last shard of restraint broke within his son, and he gave no chance for an apology or protest to grace his ears. Instead, he walked down the hall until his footsteps had quieted into nothing.

Abandoned to brood, Ramsay was no longer comfortable in his skin and found himself overtaken by a restless and inflamed energy.

The guard who stood at the door to the kitchens nearly yelped when a gloved hand clutched his throat and yanked him downwards. The noise was silenced by the pressure constricting his windpipe, and it took all of his training and discipline not to attack or look away from the wild eyes glaring into his own.

“Gather the men.” The order slipped through Ramsay's clenched teeth as a whisper. “Tell them we march tonight.”

He released the guard, only to shove him a moment after the man failed to sprint out of arm's length. “Go!” Ramsay turned in the direction his father had gone as the rapid thuds of steel boots echoed against the stone floors.

* * *

A rush of cold wind burst into the Lord Commander's chambers as the door swung open. The thud of leather boots on wood marked the entry of a panting Night's Watchman, his forehead slick with a layer of snow and a hand resting on his abdomen.

“News from Mole's Town, ser.”

The focus of Alliser's squinting eyes crumpled with dismay, and the Night's Watchman stepped further into the chamber. “Three armed strangers arrived last night—” he took a breath “—together.”

Alliser let his gaze fall upon the scrolls littering his desk, searching for a reason not to assume the worst. “Were they bearing any sigils?”

Despite his limited understanding of the situation, the brother saw his commander's desperate hope and shook his head as if fearing the implications of his answer. “No, ser.”

Alliser was unsure of whether to be relieved or troubled by that fact. The possibility that the strangers were merely bandits or deserters with impeccable timing was one he clung to like a monkey to the last branch, but the paranoia creeping up his spine drove him to rise from his seat. “'Two fortnights', he said. Not forty-eight hours!”

The Night's Watchman looked between Alliser and the door, his feet shifting to the exit and his hand twitching closer to his sword.

A tense silence of unspoken orders and obscenities reigned as Alliser swerved his head back and forth across his desk. “The Boltons have shat on their promise,” he finally declared. “Not that I expected anything less.”

After a moment of deliberation, Alliser waved the brother away. “Ride to the Shadow Tower. Request an audience with Denys Mallister, and tell him we need as many men as he can spare.”

A brisk “yes, ser” flew out the Night's Watchman's mouth. A gust as cold as ice blew his cloak into the air when he opened the door once again, his boots thumping away from the chambers and then descending the stairs.

Another pair of footsteps replaced his and thundered to the door with haste. Alliser jerked his head up in preparation for scolding what he assumed to be the same brother returning in confusion.

The man who greeted him was Jon Snow, and Jon hurried to the desk while looking upon him in a frenzy of bewilderment. “You're having Brother Black escorted from the castle?”

Alliser narrowed his eyes at the name, his lips pressing together and parting into a straight line. “I am.” He gave a swift nod. “They're a fugitive from justice.” The chair squeaked as he rose and collected a scroll lying on the desk, unfolded with a broken red seal.

“Ser,” said Jon, his tone disbelieving. He looked behind himself for a brief moment and then put forward his hand. “Brother Black—”

Alliser spun towards him and yelled, “They're not a brother, Jon! They never trained! They never took the oath.” A moment of silence passed before he began again at a slightly more controlled volume, “They're a runaway scratching at our door.”

Jon took a few seconds to collect his thoughts, and when he pointed a gloved finger at the Wall, Alliser knew his words before Jon uttered them: “They've killed more wildlings in a week than most of these men have in years.”

With a heavy sigh, Alliser shook his head. “The crown issued a royal decree for their return. Would you have me branded a traitor?” He turned back to the desk with an upward swing of his hand, and his voice lowered to a frustrated mutter. “Now we have Bolton spies skittering about in the dark like rats.”

At this, Jon opened his mouth and glanced round the room. “The Bolton army can't march on Castle Black.” He stretched an arm towards the open window as if the army were marching forth at that very moment. “The lords have no jurisdiction here. It's neutral territory!”

Alliser looked over his shoulder to bob his head at Jon. “Tell that to them when they're peeling the skin off your bones.”

* * *

Far outside the Lord Commander's Tower walked a group of four Night's Watchmen, each of whom exchanged a cautious glance with the man beside him. All carried a sheathed blade on their hip as well as a torch to chase the shadows of tall trees away.

The shadow that dragged across the ground at your feet, however, did not fade, no matter how many sources of light were waved over it.

The forest ahead was devoid of singing birds and howling wolves, and the giant trees partially blocked the golden and pinkish rays of midday. Every man slowed his pace and watched the tree line, some expecting to see a Bolton sigil flying and others fearing that a bear was likely to hurl itself at the nearest man.

From behind a thicket hopped a rabbit. The appearance of the small animal elicited a hushed chuckle from the brother on your right. “That'd make a nice feed,” he whispered, nodding his head and waving his torch at it.

The brother on your left turned to him and talked without a care for his volume. “Don't bet your supper on it.”

Long ears twitching and flattening at the noise, the rabbit scurried away into the bushes.

The man who had spoken first cocked his eye at him, and the brother on your left continued: “I caught me one of them hares down in Dorne. Ate the whole thing before the guards came and said it was some lord's pet.” The brother put his hands together, then spread them apart to visualise his meal.

He shrugged as if he could still taste the hare and knew it to be worth the punishment, a slight smile forming on his lips. “Now here I am.” This sliver of a smile fell to a frown, and he shook his head. “It's too bad. I hear Dorne's nice this time of year.”

You peered beyond your shoulder to spy the wooden doors of Castle Black, which were comprised of hefty logs that reached thrice above your line of sight. Somewhere warm, you thought, was an apt place to hide from those who lived in the cold.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

183 notes · View notes

duckyhowls · 1 year

Text

Game of Thrones Masterlist

A collection of one-shots dedicated to George R.R. Martin’s world of ‘A Game of Thrones’. The tales of legend have entertained the world for years. This collection contains the romance retold from the Eddas, the secret tales of ‘A Game of Thrones’ and its ancient world. Following the deeds of powerful men and women such as Aegon the Conqueror, The Kingslayer, and even the Green Queen, and filled with a host of fantastic creatures - dragons, basilisks, etc. - and objects containing myth - Dark Sister, Widows Wail, etc. - that will conjure up a world of heroism and romance that will enthrall you.

𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

Obsession - maegor the cruel x stark!OC (COMING SOON)

Just His Servant - maegor the cruel x servant!OC (COMING SOON)

The Rogue - aegon the conqueror x dragon rider!OC (COMING SOON)

Traveller - aegon the conqueror x nomad!OC (COMING SOON)

Warlord - visenya t. x dragon rider! queen!OC (COMING SOON)

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

Boneless - daemon t. x crippled!niece!OC (COMING SOON)

Childhood - daemon t. x servant!OC (COMING SOON)

I’m A Poet - aegon ii t. x niece!strong!OC (COMING SOON)

The Flower - aegon ii t. x OC ModernAU (COMING SOON)

Pretty Questions - aemond t. x lannister!OC (COMING SOON)

Like A Cat - aemond t. x stark!OC (COMING SOON)

Secret - aemond t. x neice!OC x aegon ii t. (COMING SOON)

Bones - alicent h. x ghost!fem!celtigar!OC (COMING SOON)

Prince - alicent h. x prince!targaryen!OC (COMING SOON)

Diamonds - rhaenyra t. x lannister!fem!OC (COMING SOON)

𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

Queen - daenerys t. x baratheon (lannister)!OC

The young queen, Mercia Baratheon, is the last living heir to King Robert after all three of her siblings die horrible deaths. As the Seven Kingdoms are on the brink of collapse, Mercia does all she can to hold it all together - though struggles arrive when the Long Night draws near, and The Dragon Queen comes for her throne. But perhaps there is a compromise they can arrange?

A Caged Bird - viserys t. x slave!OC (COMING SOON)

Unsteady - jaime l. x targaryen!OC (COMING SOON)

Sorcery - cersei l. x witch!OC (COMING SOON)

#daenerys x reader #aemond x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon i x reader #alicent x reader #jaime x reader #fem x fem #fem x male #oneshot #masterlist #collection of oneshots #imagines #game of thrones #house of the dragon #rise of the dragon #fanfiction #romance

81 notes · View notes

everydayescapeartist · 1 year

Text

I wrote this one-shot that didn’t quite get done by Valentine’s Day. There’s no President’s Day tie, I swear, lol. So, let’s just say Happy Friends Don’t February! How about that? Hope you check it out and enjoy it. It was just a fun one to write.

#my fic #braime fic #jb fic #jb smut #jb oneshot #jaime x brienne #braime #jb fics #braime fics #myfic #my fics #eea writes #braime au

15 notes · View notes

nossbean · 2 years

Note

I am late to the party but if you have more 🌹 I’m here for it!

And another, delivered long after the asking! A wee more angst, but from the 5+1 book thing this time!

“Drink the wine.” His voice came out rough, quiet. Something was shaking in his chest. It was all he could do to keep it from his voice.

“No,” Brienne whispered.

“Drink the f*cking wine. We have no milk of the poppy. This will hurt.”

Her shoulder lifted weakly, dropped. It tugged at the wound and she hissed. “No less than I deserve.”

“Self pity doesn’t look well on you,” Jaime snapped. She made no response.

Have it your way, wench.

“Brienne,” he said softly. The wounds on her neck were bad enough; he dreaded what was hidden under the bandage on her cheek. “Don’t make me hurt you.” More. More than necessary. There was no avoiding it entirely.

She blinked rapidly, tears collecting in her eyelashes. “Do you not wish to?” she asked quietly.

His ears rang.

“What a high opinion you have of me,” he drawled, barbed, “And here I thought your choices earlier demonstrated your views well enough.” She winced. A spectre rose to loom between them— the thing in his chest shuddered again.

Did her eyes not burn, staring into the flames that way? “What will you do, Brienne? Stay here and let the injuries take you?”

She looked, appallingly, as though she considered it.

#thank you 💖!#rose writing meme #fic: oneshot #jaime x brienne #humble fic offerings

47 notes · View notes

myhaikyuuacademia · 7 months

Text

whoever left me the 2 jaime requests I am forever grateful. So excited to write them!! They're right up my alley and some of my all-time favorite tropes!!!! Aaaaaa I cannot wait!!! Seriously, thank you!!

#x reader #fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction #imagine #jaime reyes #blue beetle #blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes x reader #requests

25 notes · View notes

99liners · 11 months

Note

I missed you a lot here 💜 good to see you back!

I've been struggling with insomnia for a while now and I keep searching for soft ASMR or drabbles to fall asleep.

I have a soft taetaeme req (��️) yeah I'll choose the most unusual genre of man to make you write fluffy drabble for me.

Kaiho!Jungkook (oops 🥹)

I want this inhuman to be like a human even if it's for a short span of time.

maybe could you write a fluffy drabble of him being all soft for her, back hugging her in the shower while she brushes her teeth half asleep with closed eyes but she woke up just to cook for him (even tho it's a sunday)

and he kisses her and maybe rewards her with sum intense oral uwu. You obviously do add and enhance according to your ideas.

Much love

Evie 🧚🏻‍♀️

opus kaiho, drabble number 3 / tatemae series 建前:

pairing: detective!jeon jeongguk x trophy!wife reader genre: fluff, smut, marriage!au, age-gap!au (7 years). words: 3.375. (cmon guys, it's been long established that i am incapable of understanding the meaning of the word 'drabble'.) warnings: i suck at fluff so brace yourselves for the second-hand embarrassment lmao, showering together, smexy times, eating out, fingering, pussy licking, orgasm (f), kaiho!jjk accidentally walks through a portal and becomes soft for a night ahaha, js. original one-shot: kaiho part of: tatemae; 建前 — a bts series a/n: i am sorry love that you are having sleeping issues. i have had insomnia since middle school now and at this point i have just given up on having a sleeping routine. i really hope you can return back to your rhythm very soon! i had to physically restrain myself from writing angst ahahah xD also, if it feels like jk is not that great at pleasuring his wife, it's intentional because although i wanted to make it super fluffy for you but kaiho!jk gotta stay true to his character to some degree uwu. hope you enjoy! <3

jeongguk unlocked the front door with the personal key attached to his car keys and his desk-locker key from work. his head coming in contact with the material of the door briefly while his hands manoeuvred the lock to finally open the door as he let out a soft sigh.

he hates summers, it is brutal. while the world is enjoying summer breaks, he is working double shifts due to the sheer number of officers submitting requests for vacations.

bam greeted his owner at the doorway, sniffing jeongguk's pant legs while his tail wagged. he can always smell the faint traces of the police labrador retriever dog from his owner's work clothes.

"there's my good boy," a smile appeared on jeongguk's otherwise tired face as he scratched bam's head affectionately.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

the detective made his way inside the house, with bam on his tail, taking off his jacket and discarding it on the kitchen countertop. he was expecting to see you in the kitchen, given you usually are arranging dinner at this time. finding the space empty, he meant to walk away to the bedroom but noticed two boxes of chocolate wrapped in a ribbon. they looked like they were about to melt so jeongguk stored them in the refrigerator before finally making his way to the bedroom.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

taking off his department badge, he kept it away on the nightstand but owing to his carelessness, the badge fell to the floor in the narrow space between the bed and the nightstand. he would have picked it up but his mind was preoccupied with the sound of the shower running. barely unbuttoning his shirt, jeongguk pushed open the bathroom door with a soft nudge of his feet.

there you were, taking a cold shower to fight the summer. you were facing the shower, just letting it wash away the heat while some pop song blasted through your mobile that you had propped somehow to prevent it from touching the water.

jeongguk walked in through the crack in the shower curtains with his work trousers still on, "hey baby," his hands slowly wrapped around your waist, closing in a wrap with one hand on top of the other right above your belly button.

you wringed the water from your hair, which trailed down jeongguk's chest, before turning to him, "hi," a lump in your throat from the inactivity. it has been way too hot these days and you refuse to go out anywhere, only ever stepping out if it is an utmost necessity.

(the game of 'do i absolutely need this?' 'is it absolutely necessary for survival?' playing way too often on your mind)

earlier in the afternoon you noticed that bam's dog food had finished so you made a trip to the local supermarket with bam. you love shopping with him, because although he is a ray of sunshine but a doberman still scares the shit out of people so the annoying salesmen stationed at almost every other aisle these days with their free samples never approach you; an all-in-all peaceful shopping trip.

while you were checking out the items, at the cashier counter there were boxes of chocolates stacked with the tag 'buy 1 get 1!'. you cannot recall seeing your husband eating sugary food as much, he mostly eats meals at home and you do not really keep track of what he eats while he is at work. you would not necessarily call him a dessert person. so the debate went on for a while before you finally got one box and checked it out too. you are not sure why you bought them but you just wanted to get your husband some chocolates? what is so wrong with it? why can't you just get your husband some chocolates? :/

"you are taking an early shower today," your husband mentioned from behind you, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, letting the shower water run over him.

"gguk, it's 1am," you mumbled, your hands coming down to rest atop his. unspoken, your bodies started swaying slightly to the tune of the song blasting through your phone as a slow song came on the shuffle.

for a brief moment he stopped moving but then continued the motion, "right. i am sorry, it's been so tiring these days. i've lost track of time. did you have dinner?"

"no." you replied with bated breath, a part of you was waiting for him to initiate something. i mean given his past nature, isn't it a given that this is going to lead to sex?

but your husband lives to surprise you. his hands never unclasped from your waist, but instead stayed firmly in place.

"you don't need to wait for me if i'm late," his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your body wash.

"it's not fun eating alone," you finally released the tension, letting your figure slump back on his.

"mhm," humming, jeongguk closed his eyes.

"hey hey hey," your sprinkled some water on his face watching him scrunch his nose up which made you chuckle, "i know you are going to fall asleep. let's go eat."

"noooo," there was a whiny tone in his voice, as he only tightened his grip when you tried to break free.

"you need to eat, don't you have duty in the morning?"

"i am going to set fire to that precinct, every time i finish some paperwork, another pile of files just get dumped on my desk."

"wow, any other pyromaniac tendencies that i should know of?"

"please let's just stay like this, just for a while," jeongguk turned you around to face him this time, to stare into your eyes as intently as he had on your wedding day while reciting his vows.

"you'll catch a cold, sick gguk is a whiny little complaining brat," you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck, your bare chest coming in contact with his.

"i don't care," he kept swaying with you, his hold around you comforting as his arms enveloped you whole like a warm shawl.

"we shouldn't waste water," you suggested once more.

"i don't care," he reiterated again. there was not a single ounce of annoyance in his voice, he seemed at peace with his face nuzzling into your neck again.

a few moments passed before you reached your hand behind your back to turn the knob off, "i got you chocolates."

"huh? why?" again, he was not annoyed, just genuinely surprised.

"what do you mean why? i can't get my husband some chocolates?!" you pulled away from the embrace, your hands propped on his chest, the vein in your forehead pulsing; ready to throw hands.

"whoa whoa whoa, baby, calm down."

"no tell me why! why can't i just get you chocolates? what's so wrong in that?" you glared daggers at him.

"you..." jeongguk let a soft chuckle, "you are so tiny and cute."

"i got you chocolates and you are going to eat them."

"won't say i'm much fond of them but i guess it won't hurt to try."

"yes, you're going to eat them and smile and say 'thank you my dear wife, you're the best. what would i possibly do without you'"

"is that so?"

"yes and then-"

he cut you off this time, "and then i will return the favour and maybe eat you out for the dessert after dessert."

you hit his chest laughing before finally breaking free of the embrace this time, "wash up, i will get dinner ready."

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

"where are the chocolates?" you asked as you walked into the bedroom after warming up the dinner.

jeongguk was sprawled across the bed, his eyelids drooping down with sleep, the water from his semi-wet hair being soaked by the pillow cover, "i put them in the fridge," he yawned mid-sentence.

"well, the food's ready. let's go."

"you take out the chocolates and i will be there."

humming, you walked out to the kitchen and opened the fridge door but did not find the box anywhere. rummaging around the vegetables tray and behind the other tupperware boxes, you opened the freezer door just to be sure and lo and behold, he had put it in the freezer over the ice tray and now the packet was frozen and sticking to the ice tray.

"jeon jeongguk!" you speed-walked to the bedroom only to find him fast asleep, soft snores filling the silence in the room.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

next morning:

pressing on the volume up button, you quieted down the alarm blaring like a war horn on a beautiful sunday morning at 05:00. your husband gets early day offs on sundays but he has to clock into work early too.

putting on a headband to keep your hair away from the face, you walked to the washroom by muscle memory as your eyes were half-lidded from sleep. you reckoned if you had fallen asleep again, you might not be able to wake up on time so you pushed yourself off the bed. you squeezed the toothpaste tube on the bristles of your toothbrush, unsure if it indeed was the toothpaste or your facewash, you started brushing. your rhythm faltered every now and then as you kept falling asleep doing the mundane routine.

most mornings you wake up about half an hour before jeongguk has to leave for work. he is not a picky eater and eats whatever you put on a plate in front of him. actually, most mornings he is done making sandwiches by the time you wake up to make him something. you both then enjoy the sandwich he made as you see him off to work.

since he went to sleep last night on an empty stomach (and so did you, missy), you wanted to make him a heavy breakfast, something more than just two pieces of bread.

halfway through, you heard your alarm again and your eyes shot open. you must have snoozed your alarm instead of dismissing it and five minutes later it blared again. your brain must have lagged from the sleep because by the time you finally decided that 'oh hey i should turn off the alarm before jeongguk wakes up,' jeongguk already had woken up and appeared behind you.

"morning," he mumbled before walking inside to use the toilet.

you finally finished washing up and pat dry your face with the towel by the time your husband walked out, his eyes all scrunched up, his hand scratching an itch on his belly.

"why are you up so early?"

"to make breakfast for you," you said walking into the bedroom.

"i don't leave for like more than two hours, let's go back to sleep."

"i know," you hummed, fixing your hair.

before he could protest further and albeit successfully convince you to come back to bed, you walked to the kitchen and got the breakfast started.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

you served two bowls of naengmyeon and galbitang before returning to the cooking station to finish the last dish which you mean to pack for his lunch at work.

by the time you turned the stove off after giving it a last stir, the bibimbap was perfectly cooked. still standing there meaning to clean up, you felt jeongguk sneaking up behind you, hugging you close. this movement and position are slowly feeling so familiar to you; you can get used to this.

"who is going to eat all this?" he asked softly, placing soft kisses along the side of your neckline.

"you are," you asserted, wiping away the spills from the stovetop.

"but then what about my dessert?"

"the chocolates?"

"no, you."

your head had a whiplash with the way you turned to him.

"what? you thought i was rambling last night? i remember everything i say, baby."

"you have to go to work," shrugging, you casually mentioned the time restraint.

"it's worth to be late 'cause of that."

"get ready," elbowing him in the belly, you tried to pus him away but jeongguk was unrelenting today.

his lips were already on your soft spot, his tongue darting out to allow soft kittenish licks — you held your place but what definitely pushed you over the edge was his hand, wrapped around your lower stomach, slowly creeping down, his palm taking shape to sculpt your mound. the moment his hand came in touch with the sensitive bundle of nerves down there, your spine bent over — almost in routinely motion to such ministrations — giving way for your ass to attach snuggly and poke into his crotch area.

"your body is so soft and sensitive to my touch," your husband mentioned from behind you. he took a step back and helped guide you to the kitchen countertop on the other side of the cooking station, urging you — with soft touches and gestures of his hands to get on top of the counter. you did as he bid, getting on your knees on the counter, your ankles slightly falling off the edge but were firmly supported by jeongguk's hands which crept up the satin slip dress. it already barely covered your asscheeks, all he had to do was push it up by a few inches and he had a clear view of your panties.

"so delicious," he hummed, more to himself, as he lowered himself to come face to face with your heat. his hands which crept up to your hips moved towards the hem of your panties — hooking his fingers on either side, he slid the material down to your bent knees. a single string of arousal connected to the crotch of your panties stretched, extended to its limit and broke into thin air following that movement. jeongguk licked his lips, the corners of his mouth watering at the sight in front of him — he is hungry, both literally and figuratively.

he let his fingers massage your clitoral hood, the thin flap of skin moving in a rhythmic motion, sending incomplete jolts throughout your body. feeling the bit of arousal now on the pad of his fingers, jeongguk used his index fingers to hold the flaps open to expose the tiny nub of flesh full of nerve endings to the open air. it felt both cold and hot at the same time, making your toes twitch.

it felt like eternity but in reality it had been only mere seconds before jeongguk's tongue protruded out and flicked against your little nub, slowly at first before picking up a steady tempo — stimulating that tight bundle of nerves as they let out tension, becoming putty at your husband's expense. all this time, you held your lips tautly together, only letting escape soft hums of affirmation; 'nnngh' 'mmhm'. one of your palms was connected flat out to the marble top while the other was curled at the edge, holding on to the cold surface to maintain your balance.

jeongguk touched your vulva with the base of his tongue and slowly moved his head upwards from the bottom of your vagina to the top till the tip of his tongue passed over your clitoris. he repeated the motion a few times, breaking contact every time he reached the top and then starting over from the bottom till he started feeling the arousal now leak out on his tongue. to cover as much of your vagina, he kept his tongue relaxed, wide and flat, letting his head and neck muscles do the work while his tongue stayed unmoving. (the secret to that killer jawline.) he was able to maintain the pace for a few moments before speeding up his ministrations.

a soft 'ah' left your lips, finally verbalizing your moaning but much like female masturbation, speed only takes you over to the edge but does not bring about that much needed final release. looking forward, you glanced at the clock in the dining hall which read 06:59 and your husband has to leave by 07:30 for duty. letting your upper body lower down to the cold marble — your nipples becoming hard and sticking out in a painful stance — you let your dominant hand reach down to that little bundle of nerves and started massaging it, accompanying jeongguk's movements.

"yes, just like that," you almost regretted moaning that out because your husband quickened up his pace. you made a mental note to tell him later that just like that does not mean speed up, it always means keep that steady motion.

bursting away those thought bubbles, you let yourself drown in the overstimulation, feeling yourself reaching that edge.

"let it go baby, let me taste it all," he lapped his tongue at the arousal, making sinful noises echo throughout the walls. this time when he started over, you did not feel his tongue on your vagina next but his lips as he sucked up your clit — sucking and releasing.

"fuck," your toes curled up, eyes closed shut as your fingers picked up speed as well.

"mine mine mine, yes," he let a slap on your right asscheek.

just a bit more of his growing unsteady ministrations along with your fingers working that coiled nub and you came undone on his tongue, finally letting your upper body completely flat on the countertop, your lungs taking in the air.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

jeongguk took a quick shower and got dressed, trying to hurry up as he was going to be late.

"well what about the breakfast? i made all that for you!"

"pack it all, i will eat in the precinct."

"no you wont, i know your team will eat the most of it."

"i promise i will eat it."

"well you better, i am your wife and i made that food for you." you pointed your index finger and tapped at his chest.

"well of course you are my wife and yes that food is for me. now hurry up, baby," he gently spanked your left asscheek this time, making it even from earlier, after finishing buttoning up his shirt. you rolled your eyes walking out to the kitchen to pack the food.

jam-packing all of the food into bento boxes, you finished with keeping the box of chocolates on top of the insulated carry-on lunch bag.

jeongguk, now completely clad in his uniform, came out and took the bag from you in a hurry. well, it was 07:47 already so he was late, "bye," pecking your lips, he walked out.

after the door closed behind him, you took out last night's dinner and put it in the oven to warm it up since you still haven't eaten anything and just packed away all of the breakfast.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it hadn't even been ten minutes when you heard your phone ringing.

"hey, what's up?"

"i left my badge at home."

"where is it?"

"i think i put it on the nightstand."

you were already in the bedroom looking for the badge by the time he mentioned it, "nope, it's not here."

"then i don't know woman, i need it."

"men," you rolled your eyes before cutting the call.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

after finishing your breakfast and retrieving the badge with the help of bam, you walked into your husband's precinct with the badge in your hand when you noticed the team gathered around jeongguk's table.

making your way over, the smell of food wafted your nostrils and you watched as the team relished the breakfast while your husband had maybe bit of it.

minjun turned after swallowing the last spoonful of the bibimbap, "oh mrs jeon, thank you so much for the breakfast. it's great!"

you gave him a close-lipped smile, blinking a few too many times before turning to your husband who took a visible gulp.

after the crowd in front of your dispersed you slammed the badge down on his table and meant to walk away, but jeongguk got a hold of your wrist.

"look i saved the chocolates for myself."

"ahha? you mean the one that i see in yoona's hand?"

jeongguk stared down at his desk in panic, his eyes searching for the box of chocolates that he had kept aside to eat later, "those sneaky bastards."

"i am never cooking for you again, jeon jeongguk."

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

feedback is deeply appreciated. ✨

masterlist | bts masterlist | rules | ask box

- jaimie

140 notes · View notes

a1307s · 5 months

Text

Very Good or Very Bad

(Jaime Reyes)

[Art is not mine! Credit to PollyGuo]

Requested by: Aiko424

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6880

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Cursing

Super long, so my bad

Cállate. Por favor, cállate tu molesto bicho: "Shut up. Please, just shut up you annoy bug"

———————————————————————

"You're shaking," I say to a twig of a guy nervously looking down at his phone. Ever since I not so accidentally blew up an abandoned building a few weeks ago Wally - my older brother - won't let me walk myself anywhere. Given, I blew up the building to save the lives of innocent - and stupid - citizens of Central City but he didn't want to hear any of that. So, I've been stuck on a leash ever since.

Most of the time Wally himself, Artemis, or Dick pick me up and walk me home, but Dick is on medical rest and Wally and Artemis left for Gotham this morning to visit her parents. You'd assume that would get me off my leash, ya? No. Instead of letting me go to Gotham too or trusting me to watch myself they asked Dick to watch me for the next week.

Since he's on medical leave, all Dick can do is relax so no hero work and definitely no patrolling Blüdhaven. Since Wayne Junior got himself injured, he's not allowed to leave Mount Justice so that Barbra and M'gann can monitor him. Also because of this, I'm stuck being walked home by the league members and being stuck in a rock box with Wally's old - and new - team mates, which doesn't seem like a fun time.

By lunch Richard texted to tell me 'Jaime has a half day so he's coming to pick you up'. After a quick description - skinny Hispanic boy that talks to himself and has a beetle on his back - I had an idea of who to look for after school.

"I'm not shaking," Says - hopefully - Jaime. "I'm just cold."

"You're just a lair," I say back, taking a sidestep to look for this beetle imprint Grayson mentioned before. An imprint is present so I'm pretty sure this is the right guy. "Why are you shaking?"

"I am not shaking and even if I was shaking it might - or might not - be because I'm terrified of Nightwing and what will happen to me if something happens to you," Jaime races out, constantly glancing down at his phone.

"Mmkay, a little paranoid of you," I say, grabbing the guy's wrist and heading towards the school gates. "I don't know where I'm going," I tell him, dropping his wrist and reaching into my bag for my phone.

"Umm... that way... I think?" He says, glancing to the left after burning holes into his phone with his eyes.

"Let me see," I say, tilting his phone to look at the directions. "Do you not know how to read a map? A google map, nonetheless? We got to go to the right."

"Oh, okay" Jaime says, moving to my side to start heading down the street. As Dick mentioned, he constantly whispers to himself as we walk down the road.

"So, like do you talk to yourself cause you're crazy or?" I ask, glancing at him before turning back to the sidewalk in front of us.

"I'm not crazy," Jaime answers before continuing to whisper to himself. "I'm not crazy," he repeats.

I hum in response before turning to walk backwards so I'm facing Jaime. "People that aren't crazy usually don't have to state it," I say, locking my eyes on him. His eyes are a brown color whereas I got the signature green West color.

"In my defense, you asked," he says, constantly moving his head around as if it's on a swivel.

"Touche," I answer, folding my hands behind my head as I continue to walk. "So, Jaime Reyes, what's so big and bad about you?"

"Big and bad?"

"Ya, like why are you a hero and all? What's so special about you that Batman was like 'oh ya this kid can totally beat the shit out of villains'?" I ask, amusingly watching Jaime having a mini freak out.

"Um... There's an alien parasite on my spine I guess," He answers nervously, glancing down at his phone before doing another environment check.

"You guess? There either is or isn't and I feel like you would know," I voice, rethinking if he really is a hero or if Bruce just happened to adopt another kid by accident.

"Yes, there is one. What's with all the questions?"

"I just like to know who's hanging around my brother and uncles is all," I answer, going to turn face front again.

Despite me counting my paces, I'm closer to the street than I thought, which leads me slap dab in the road. "Be careful," Jaime snaps, grabbing the hood of my hoodie and pulling me back on to the sidewalk. "Nightwing would kill me if you got ran over."

"One, Nightwing wouldn't kill you. Artemis might but Nightwing would just lecture you and me. And two, there isn't any cars coming so it's not like I would have gotten ran over," I tell him, slightly smiling at the distress on his face. "You're like super stressed out about this. Why are you stressing so hard?"

"I'm not stressed out," Jaime answers, not letting go of my hoodie as we walk across the street.

"I've known you for like five minutes and you've already lied twice. Batman must be having a field day with you."

"You don't know me," He answers, stopping once we are safely back on the sidewalk to check the directions again. "And I've never met Batman, so I don't know what he thinks of me."

"He thinks you have emotional regulation issues," I say, repeating what Bruce told me last month about the newest member on Nightwing's hero squad.

Jaime glances up from his phone to me a few times before pulling me in the direction he decided on. "Did he really say that?"

"Ya, but he didn't mean it in a 'I'm better than everyone' way. It was a more of 'Yo, Nightwing your underling has this issue and here's how to help with it' way I guess," I answer, focusing on Jaime's face. He's quite a pretty boy when he's not in the middle of a panic attack.

"Well Nightwing says you're a reckless air head," My escort says, pretty upset about the information I've shared with him.

"I know I am. I take after Wally." I shift the collar of my hoodie to get more comfortable with Jaime tugging on it. He notices and drops his hold on my clothing.

When Jaime figures out which way to go, he grabs on to my wrist and starts walking again. "Ya? You take after Wally in any other ways?"

"Not really. I mean I have his humor but that's about it."

Jaime suddenly stops, causing me to bump into his back. It's a lot more toned than I thought it would be and there most definitely is a beetle attached to his spine. "You're not a speedster?" He asks, turning his head to look at me.

"Hm? Oh, no I'm not. I'm more of a retro hero like Nightwing and Artemis," I answer, moving myself to stand next to him instead of being dragged behind.

"Why aren't you a speedster? Genetic skip or something?"

"Well we don't really know how it'll work with Barry and Wally's genetics yet since neither have had kids. Barry got his abilities in a freak accident and then Wally got them by coping said freak accident," I explain, taking in the soft coloring of Jaime's skin.

The phone booth portal thingy Bruce invented is sat in front of us, so I take the chance to say, "You're really hot," before wiggling out of his hold and slip through the phone booth.

"What?" Jaime voice echos through the empty training room when he slips in after me.

Unlucky for him, I'm already in the living room and in Richard's grasp. "You're getting so big," my make shift Uncle cries, squeezing me in his arms and covering the crown of my head in kisses.

"You literally saw me last week," I murmur, rolling my eyes as I try to wiggle out of his grasp.

"And since then you've definitely gotten taller," Richard says, followed with a whine when I mange to get out of his hold. The tantrum doesn't last long though. When Jaime enters the room, Nightwing's attention is switch from me to the beetle boy. "Jaime! Good job not losing Y/N on the walk here!"

"You really paint me out to be some teenage dirt bag don't you?" I ask, swinging open the fridge in search of a snack.

"No I don't! You're just... a lot like Wally."

"You mean I'm a reckless air head?" I tease, pulling out a cheese stick before plopping myself on one of the arm chairs.

Nightwing's masked eyes get bigger before he sneaks a glance at Barbra. "Bsh... no... I would never call you that. That's so-"

"Out of line for a grown man to insult a young girl?" I finish for him, watching as he accuses Barbra of spilling the beans through his eyes.

"Just go do your homework or something," Richard says, using his crunches to storm out of the room. It was quite a funny sight, watching him trying to storm out with a broken leg.

————————————

"Oh it's you again," I say, sneaking up on Jaime who's waiting at the front gate to walk me home again.

The blue of the beetle armor pokes out from under Jaime's sleeves before disappearing again. I must have really scared him then. Since Mr 'you don't know me' avoided me all day yesterday I decided to check Bruce's file on him. It was an interesting read to say the least.

"It's me again," He repeats, doing a look up and down of me before pushing himself off the gate he was leaning on. "You're not wearing a hoodie today," He comments, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Ya, I don't like people using the hood to walk me like a dog," I answer, holding the straps of my book-bag as we walk. "You have another half day today?"

"No," Jaime answers shortly, his head back to being on a swivel.

"Then why are you walking me again? Isn't El Paso like 700 miles away or something?"

"Something like that but Mount Justice is even further away from here but it's only a ten minute walk for us," Jaime answers, stepping around me so he's closer to the street.

"True, but you wouldn't have time to get out of class and get here to pick me up even with the Zeta Tube," I comment, watching as Jaime's eyes lock on the street corner begger. His name is Connie and he chills on the street corner around this time and during the before school rush in the morning. Connie is an okay guy but he is quite quick to anger.

"What does it matter?" Jaime asks, switching which side he's standing on so that he's closer to the begger. His hand wraps around my wrist as we past Connie and cross the street.

"I'm just curious," I answer, constantly glance at Jaime's hand on my wrist.

"Curiosity killed the cat. Also, how'd you know I was from El Paso?" Jaime asks, glancing around the new stretch of sidewalk. His hand stays very much latched around my wrist as he does so.

"Barbra mentioned you were from Texas, so I just took a guess at one of the bigger cities within the state," I answer, holding my breath in hopes he'll buy the lie. He does, luckily, and leaves our conversation to die off. "So.... you get in trouble at school or something?" I ask after a couple minutes of silence.

"I got suspended," He answers, tugging me in front of him as a group of other teens walk past. The mix of holding my wrist and walking so close to me causes Jaime to bump into me every couple steps. His chest is hard, even harder than Bruce's. When I glance down his fingers are coated in the black armor I recognize from the photos in his file. Does he feel threatened by me or by the baseball players walking past? It has to be me, right? I'm a trainee of Kid Flash, Nightwing, and Batman himself. How the fuck would my school's baseball players threaten him?

"For what?" I ask, glancing up at my repeated escort. Jaime's jaw is tight, and his eyebrows are squinted together.

He makes whispers in Spanish under his breath - which I don't understand, before he answers me. "Does it matter?"

"Why are you so pissy today? For someone that was bitching yesterday about me not knowing them, you're not very open with me." Jaime glances down at me but doesn't say anything in response. Instead, he lets go of my wrist and shifts himself between the road and me again.

The rest of the walk is uneventful other than a cardinal crossing our path. Jaime did not find my excitement over the bird very interesting though. He just mumbled to himself and dragged me the rest of the way to the phone booth. When we get to the hidden zeta tube, I go to step into it but Jaime pulls me back. "Hey, what did you say yesterday?" He asks, eyes locked on me and hands locked around my wrists.

————————————

Jaime's POV

What the fuck? What the fuck?! Why am I the one picking up Nightwing's niece? Nightwing's arsonist niece. Who blew up a building. Heroes blow up buildings all the time. Heroes around my age do not blow-up buildings! Except Kid Flash's little sister apparently!

I nervously glance at my phone again, re-reading Nightwing's description of his niece for the hundredth time. What if I can't find her? What if I mistake another kid for her? What if I bring another kid to the mountain on accident? That would definitely get me kicked off the team. Or murdered! Do heroes murder? I don't think so... well.. Arsenal does. Would he kill me? Nightwing wouldn't let him kill me... right? Artemis's parents kill people and she's technically this girl's sister-in-law, right? Would Sport-Master kill me for accidentally abounding Artemis's sister-in-law?

What if some freak accident happens on the walk to the Mount? Nightwing would defiantly kill me if his niece got hurt on my watch. Or Wally would... or Artemis... or Batman. Oh my God I forgot about Batman. I bet Batman would throughout his no kill rule for this chick. I mean his son refers to this chick as his niece. That like technically makes this girl his granddaughter.

"I will not let Batman - or anyone else - hurt us," Scarab says, which does not help my train of thought. I'm totally going to get murdered.

In retaliation to my thoughts, Scarab tries to activate my armor. "We do not need that right now. Not needed," I whisper to myself; Well technically to the Scarab but might as well be one in the same. "Can't you just like scan people and let me know who does fit the description?"

"Yes. Please read the description." I whisper the description out loud a few times before a bell rings. "Scanning has commenced," Scarab says as I look around at the different people spilling out of the building. "Jaime Reyes, your high epinephrine levels have caused you to start shaking," the parasite adds.

"High levels of what is causing what?" I ask, glancing down at my phone to read the description again.

"Your high levels of epinephrine has called what humans have named 'anxiety'. Your body is trying to release this 'anxiety' by shaking," the bug answers. "Suspect has been-"

"You're shaking," A voice says from behind me.

"-identified," Scarab finishes. Way too many noises are going on right now, both inside and outside my head.

I turn to look at the person behind me and wouldn't you know, she fits the description perfectly. "I'm not shaking. I'm just cold," I answer, taking in the girl in front of me. She's the spitting image of Wally. Her eyes are the same green as his and her hair is red but not the same red as Wally's. Maybe it's dyed or maybe she just got different genetic pigments than Wally.

"You are shaking Jaime Reyes, and you are not cold. Your body temperature is ninety-nine point four degrees Fahrenheit. From the high levels of resorcinol in her hair, the girl does not have natural red hair," Scarab says, answering my question.

"You're just a lair," Y/N says, taking a sidestep and decking her head to get a glance at my back. Ya, this definitely has to be her. "Why are you shaking?" She asks, setting herself back in front of me.

She has freckles. Really cute freckles. How old is she? I glance down at my phone again to read Nightwing's description again. From his explanation Y/N is only a year younger than me. "Jaime Reyes, suspect is waiting for you to answer."

Oh shit, ya, I haven't answered her yet. In my rush to answer her without it seeming like I ignored her; I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm not shaking and even if I was shaking it might - or might not - be because I'm terrified of Nightwing and what will happen to me if something happens to you." What the fuck kind of answer was that? That was such a loser answer.

"Jaime Reyes, you are shaking. You're shaking because you're scared of Nightwing, Wally, Artemis, Sports-Master, Arsenal, and Batman," The Scarab says, making me even more annoyed with my own name.

"Mmkay, a little paranoid of you," Y/N says before grabbing my wrist. Her skin is super soft against my own. This can't be the touch of an arsonist, right? It's too soft, too smooth, too gentle. I willingly follow her as she walks away from the building and off the school grounds until she comes to an abrupt stop.

She drops my wrist, causing a tinge of sadness to rise in my chest. Why am I sad that she's not touching me anymore? I don't even know this girl with cute freckles that dyes her hair red to match her brother's. "Subject has caused an increase in your phenylethylamine levels. When subject let go of you, your phenylethylamine dropped which is causing the human emotion of 'sadness'."

"I don't know where I'm going," Y/N says, messing around in her bag. After a couple seconds she pulls out her cellphone. I take the chance to type the address Nightwing sent me into my phone.

I keep glancing between my phone and Y/N as she checks her notifications. She doesn't answer any of them and instead slips the phone into her hoodie pocket. She stands there, staring at me. Her eyes are bright and so full of life. "Subject's levels of catecholamines has slightly risen," Scarab says, replacing my thoughts with their voice.

"I don't know what that means," I mumble, looking down at my phone again to try and focus on the directions.

"Subject is experiencing 'annoyance' from your lack of answering."

"Umm..." I mumble, glancing at my phone again. "That way... I think..." I say, glancing to the left. Why is it so hard to focus right now? She's just a girl. I'm around girls all day. I go to school with girls all day, and then go fight crime with girls all night, and then go home to a house full of girls. She is just a girl.

Y/N takes a step forward and reaches out towards me. "Let me see," she says, her fingertips pressing against my phone so she can view it. Her nails are black, but her ring finger has a blue stripe on it. That's cute. It reminds me of Nightwing's suit. Oh shit, Nightwing is going to kill me if our walk keeps lagging from my lack of awareness. "Do you not know how to read a map?" She asks, looking up at me with those big fucking beanie baby eyes. "A google map, nonetheless? We have to go right," she says, turning right and starting to walk in that direction.

"Oh, okay," I peep out, taking wide strides to catch up to her.

"Subject is effecting your chemical balances. Recommendation: Illumination," Scarab says, in their nonchalant way.

"Illumination? Illumination? Maybe let's not 'illuminate' Batman's granddaughter, ya? Batman is not an enemy I want to have in this lifetime or the next," I fight back, trying to keep my voice low so Y/N doesn't hear me.

"Recommendation: Illuminate subject and Batman."

"The fuck you mean 'illuminate Batman'? How about we illuminate no one? That sounds like a good recommendation."

"So, like do you talk to yourself cause you're crazy or?" Y/N asks, sneaking a peek at me before her eyes focus back to in front of her.

"I'm not crazy," I rush out.

"Subject is now causing a re-rising in your epinephrine levels," The parasite glued to my spine says.

"You are causing the rise in my epine-whatever," I answer back, glancing at Y/N. "I'm not crazy," I repeat, worried she didn't hear me the first time.

Y/N hums before turning on her heels. "People that aren't crazy usually don't have to state it," she peeps out, as her eyes look me up and down. She's now facing me as she takes steady backwards steps. The fuck is she doing this for? She's going to trip or get bumped into or fucking kidnapped easier cause she's not paying attention.

"Subject is waiting for a response," Scarab says, causing me to mentally roll my eyes for the hundredth time today.

"In my defense, you asked," I finally answer back, constantly looking around for any possible threats. Heaven rest my soul if I bring Y/N to the Mount with a scratch or a bruise on her. Nightwing - and then Wally - and then Artemis - and then Batman will skin me alive if she gets hurt in the ten minutes, she's in my care.

"Touche," Y/N says, a bit of a whistle squeaking out with the word. She folds her arms behind her head as she opens her mouth to speak again, "So, Jaime Reyes, what's so big and bad about you?"

Maybe I'm not annoyed with hearing my name today. She should say it again. Why the hell do I want her to say it again? And why the hell did she fold her arms up? That's making the situation even worse. What if she trips? She won't be able to catch herself. "Big and bad?" I ask, a bit confused after I register her words.

"Ya, like why are you a hero and all? What's so special about you that Batman was like 'oh ya this kid can totally beat the shit out of villains'?" She asks, a soft smile gracing her face. A cute, soft smile that I can't enjoy because she can't walk like a normal person, so I have to be aware of every stupid thing including possible rocks on the freakin sidewalk!

" Um... There's an alien parasite on my spine-"

"Jaime Reyes! People should not know about us! This increases our chances of harm!" Just kidding, I'm back to being annoyed at hearing my name.

"- I guess," I finish, mentally rolling my eyes again.

"You guess? There either is or isn't and I feel like you would know," Y/N says before spacing out.

Why is she spacing out? She should be focusing on walking and not tripping! She should be focused on getting to the Mountain unharmed. "Yes, there is one. What's with all the questions?" I ask, getting a little annoyed with her carelessness. Doesn't she realize her safety determines my safety?

"I just like to know who's hanging around my brother and uncles is all," Y/N answers, turning on her heels again to face forward.

'Uncles'?! So, she's related to more than just Nightwing? Who else is her uncle? That's the fucking road! As Y/N is turning around, she steps directly into the street. Panicked, I reach forward and grab the first thing I come in contact. "Be careful!" I yell at her, dragging her back to the safety of the sidewalk. "Nightwing would kill me if you got run over," the words spill out before I can stop them.

I soft smile returns to Y/N's face before she speaks. "One, Nightwing wouldn't kill you. Artemis might but Nightwing would just lecture you and me. And two, there isn't any cars coming so it's not like I would have gotten ran over. You're like super stressed out about this. Why are you stressing so hard?"

"I'm not stressed out," I answer, looking back and forth on the road before tugging Y/N across by her hoodie.

"Subject is correct; You are stressed Jaime Reyes." Ya no shit. My mentor - the Nightwing - entrusted me to walk his niece to the Mountain. His niece who is actively trying to get herself - and me - killed. Nightwing who won't murder me. Oh no, but his teammate - his best friend's girlfriend - will.

"I've known you for like five minutes and you've already lied twice. Batman must be having a field day with you," Y/N says, glancing at me with mischievous eyes.

Oh, ya Batman likes me so much that he hasn't met me. Everyone likes me so much that half of the team can't remember my name. Before I can stop myself, I answer her in anger, "You don't know me. And I've never met Batman, so I don't know what he thinks of me."

Once we're back on the safe sidewalk, I take a chance to check the directions again to ensure we're heading in the right way. "He thinks you have emotional regulation issues," Y/N says, looking at the tree in front of us.

He? Who's he? Is she talking about Batman? The old guy that dressed up as a bat because he can't deal with the loss of his parents thinks I have emotional regulation issues? I glance at Y/N throughout my thoughts before focusing us in the right direction. "Did he really say that?" I ask, even though I know there's no way an adult furry thinks I have issues. I don't have issues. I just have murderous alien technology attached to me.

"Ya, but he didn't mean it in a 'I'm better than everyone' way. It was a more of 'Yo, Nightwing your underling has this issue and here's how to help with it' way I guess."

The fuck does that mean? Once again, before I can stop myself, I answer in anger, "Well Nightwing says you're a reckless air head." He sure was right. Who walks into the road without looking first? What a stupid girl, a stupid person.

"I know I am. I take after Wally," Y/N says softly, lifting up her colored nails again but this time she messes with her hoodie. I'm holding it a lot tighter than I mean too so I drop it, letting her walk freely again. Hopefully, not freely into the road again.

"Ya? You take after Wally in other ways?" I ask her, actually curious if she has superspeed as well. I mean, she has too, right? Her brother is a speedster so why wouldn't she be one too? I take second to double check our direction again before starting the walk back up again. I make sure to grab her wrist instead of her hoodie this time because I'm not confident she won't walk into traffic again.

"Not really. I mean, I have his humor but that's about it," Y/N says from behind me, a sad undertone buried in her words.

I stop walking, taking a second to process her words and trying to get the Scarab to shut up so I can think clearly. From my unwarned stop, Y/N bumps into my back. She feels really warm against me and the smell of vanilla envelopes me. "You're not a speedster?" I ask, glancing behind me to take her in. Her eyes are wide, and cute, and very green. How are they so green?

"Hm?" She asks, looking up at me, slightly softening her face. "Oh, no I'm not. I'm more of a retro hero like Nightwing and Artemis."

Y/N moves herself so she's standing next to me instead of behind me like before. "Why aren't you a speedster? Genetic skip or something?" I ask, continuing to lead her forward again.

"Well, we don't really know how it'll work with Barry and Wally's genetics yet since neither have had kids. Barry got his abilities in a freak accident and then Wally got them by coping said freak accident." What is up with these heroes? Are they all crazy? Am I going to go crazy too?

I stay trapped in my thoughts until we are slap dap in front of the portal tube thing. I think Beast Boy called it a 'zeta tube' or something. "You're really hot," Y/N says before loosening my grip on her and disappearing into the tube thing.

"What?" I ask but she's already gone. I follow her through the phone booth before re-asking my question. Unlucky for me, she's already gone from the training room. At least I lost her in the Mountain, I guess. I stand in the empty room for a second, replaying the moment a couple times. She definitely called me hot. Is that a good thing? It has to be a good thing.

I shake the thought out of my head before walking into the common area of the Mountain. Great, there she is, right there, again. "Jaime!" Nightwing calls. "Good job not losing Y/N on the walk here!" Y/N responses but I don't stick around to hear how it plays out. I spend my time in the Mountain locked away in my assigned room so I could think over the events of the walk and the feelings I'm not sure I'm happy I'm feeling.

—————————————

Today has not been the best day. I'm still a bit off from walking Y/N home yesterday, which drizzled into my day today. Some guys at school were talking about her, well about her hero identity, not her specifically. They were still talking about her though and not very nicely. For whatever reason, I couldn't just let it go and ended up starting a fight about it, which got me a suspension from school. Mama is not going to be thrilled about that.

Nightwing on the other hand, seemed quite amused that I got suspended over his niece. So amused that he asked me to pick her up again. Instead of waiting on the school grounds, I decided to wait outside the school gates. I don't want to be picking up Y/N again. She messes with my head and causes the Scaran to go all haywire.

Before getting thrown out of school for a few days, I talked over yesterday's experience with Paco. He seems to think I have a crush on Y/N. Maybe I do. I don't know. I don't know what I feel or what to think. Nightwing says it's hard to have a relationship wellbeing a hero, but Wally and Artemis have been together for ever and they're heroes. Maybe it would work out since Y/N and me are both heroes too. I don't know.

"Oh, it's you again," Y/N says, poking her head around the gate.

Since I was lost in my thoughts, her sudden appearance manages to scare me. "Self-defense activating," Scarab says, as my armor starts wrapping around me.

"Don't do that," I hiss, keeping my tone low. I don't need Y/N thinking I'm crazy or accidently hurt because Scarab thinks everything is a threat. "It's me again," I say once Scarab chills out. I glance at her, taking in her outfit. She's not wearing a hoodie today so I'm able to take in more of her figure. Her figure that would feel really nice against mine own. What? No, do not think like that. I stand up straight and shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself from touching her like I want too. "You're not wearing a hoodie today," I comment to try and see if she did it on purpose or not.

Y/N's hands wrap around her bookbag straps as she matches my strides. Her hair bounces as she walks, sliding around to frame her face. "Ya, I don't like people using the hood to walk me like a dog," she says, poking at me for my actions yesterday. "You have another half day today?"

It takes me a second to connect what she's saying. I'm too distracted by her hair, and face, and body, and I need to look at something else. I glance around, looking at all the different people and scenery and anything but her. "No."

"Then why are you walking me again? Isn't El Paso like 700 miles away or something?"

El Paso? She knows I'm from El Paso? How does she know that? I didn't tell her that. "2018 Toyota driving at dangerous speeds. Recommendation: abolish vehicle," Scarab says, causing my eyes to snap to the road.

"Let's not do that," I whisper to them, shifting my position so Y/N is further away from the road. "Something like that," I finally answer back, taking a second to process the rest of her statement. "But Mount Justice is even further away from here but it's only a ten-minute walk for us." How does she know I'm from El Paso? Why does she care that I'm picking her up again? Does she like that I'm picking her up again?

"True, but you wouldn't have time to get out of class and get her to pick me up even with the Zeta Tube," Y/N says, moving closer to me.

Is she moving closer on purpose? Why would she be? I look around again and notice a homeless looking man on the street corner. Is that why she's moving closer? "Scarab, can you do a scan of the man over there? See if he has anything dangerous or whatever," I whisper, keeping my eyes on the man.

"Scanning commenced," Scarab says as I move my placement again so I'm between the guy and Y/N.

"What does it matter?" I ask Y/N, glancing down at her for a split second before going back to sizing up the guy. It can't be that hard to take him if he tries anything... I think.

"I found three knives on the subject," Scarab says, popping the images of said knives into my mind. It still trips me out that this thing can do shit like this. In response to Scarab's findings, I wrap my hand around Y/N's wrist. I don't need her starting issues, or getting hurt if this guy starts anything.

"I'm just curious," Y/N says, looking down at her wrist.

Does she like that I'm touching her? "Scarab, can you scan for Y/N's lovey chemical thing?" I whisper, trying to catch a glance at Y/N's face to see how she's reacting. "Curiosity killed the cat," I say, trying to get her to look up again. "Also," I start, letting my own curiosity get to me. "How'd you know I was from El Paso?"

"Barbra mentioned you were from Texas, so I just took a guess at one of the bigger cities within the state."

"Y/N has high levels of phenylethylamine and epinephrine," Scarab answers after their scan finishes.

"And that means what?" I ask, even more confused than normal.

"Phenylethylamine has been nicknamed the 'love chemical' by the human race. Y/N has high levels of said chemical that raised even more after coming in contact with you. Epinephrine is the 'adrenaline' chemical, often present when in distress, lying, or with high blood pressure. Recommendation: Reproduce in order to lower the high levels of phenylethylamine and epinephrine."

What is the issue with this stupid alien? I cannot 'reproduce' with someone I barely know. But that does mean Y/N likes me back, right? Maybe I should ask about what she said yesterday. Maybe I should ask her out. Maybe... or maybe she'll say no. Or maybe she'll say yes and then I'll have a target on my back with half of my own team aiming for it. Or maybe -

"So... you get in trouble at school or something?" Y/N asks, cutting off my thought process.

Or something. "I got suspended," I answer, glancing up and seeing a group of guys heading our way.

"If you plan on being life partners with Y/N I recommend doing it soon. 78% of the group ahead has high levels of phenylethylamine for your protentional partner as well, Jaime Reyes," Scarab says, causing my skin to crawl with anger.

They don't get to like her too. I already know parts of her they'll never get to know, and I've known her two days. No, not allowed. I tug Y/N over so she's standing in front of me. We're so close that she constantly bumps into me. Every time she does, sparks run through my veins. They do not get to be near her. They need to go away. In reaction to my unwarranted anger, Scarab tries to activate my armor again. Maybe Batman is right. Maybe I do have issues controlling my emotions.

I pick up the pace a bit to try and get Y/N away from them sooner and get their attention off of her. They not so secretively check her out as we walk past, which only pisses me off more.

"For what?" Y/N peeps out, looking at me with those big green beanie baby eyes again.

It's hard to hear her over than sound of Scarab trying to justify murdering a group of people. "Cállate. Por favor, cállate tu molesto bicho," I whisper, trying to relax my nervous and calm down. I should not be this jealous. Who cares if a group of Y/N's classmates are checking her out? Not me, I don't care. "Does it matter?" I finally answer her, but it comes out sharper than I meant it too. I really need to chill out.

"Why are you so pissy today?" Y/N asks, matching my snappy tone. "Fror someone that was bitching yesterday about me not knowing them, you're not very open with me."

I look down at her as she looks forward. Frustration is very evident on her face. She looks cute frustrated. With the group being out of sight and no more creepy guys with knives around, I decide it's safe to let her go. I drop my hand from her wrist, and just like yesterday a tinge of sadness fills my chest. I want her to get to know me. I want to me open with her. I want to get to know every inner and outer thing about her. And I really want to see those eyes looking up at me as she spread out on my bed. That's perverted. Like, really perverted.

Y/N's frustration falls from her face as she turns her head. I follow her eyes to see that sitting in a tree next to us is a bright red cardinal. Y/N steps off the sidewalks and slowly walks towards the bird. I stay put, watching her gush over the bird and talk to it like it's a baby. I'm going to ask her about what she said yesterday, I'm going to ask her out, and I'm going to make my perverted thoughts a reality.

"Jaime Reyes, your aphrodisiac levels are raising," Scarab says, once again confusing me.

"You really need to start explaining things to me when you say them."

"The chemical aphrodisiac controls arousal within the human raise."

"So, I'm horny? Really? Didn't notice," I say sarcastically, watching Y/N walk back onto the sidewalk once she's done gushing over the bird. The rest of the walk is silent, but I don't mind. It gives me time to build up my confidence to spit out what I want to say. I couldn't help myself, so I ended up grabbing Y/N's wrist again to walk her the rest of the way.

Once the zeta tube is in front of us, I make sure to keep my grip on Y/N and even go as far as grabbing her other wrist so she can't run off like she did yesterday. "What did you say yesterday?" I ask her, focusing on keeping my eyes on hers and trying not to throw up my nervous. This is either going to go very good or very bad.

#jaime reyes #blue beetle #Jaime Reyes oneshot #blue beetle one shot #young justice #young justice oneshot #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle x reader

61 notes · View notes