#sorry 2 anyone who wanted more of a slow burn. they forced my hand! they wanted to smooch.

[oosleepyfaeoo]

How could you be so blind? - Part III

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Blind!Reader

Summary: Aemond sees you as the most beautiful woman in the world but you can't see that. (sorry I suck at summaries.)

Warning: a lil angst, the reader is a female, eventual smut

Words: 1,721

A/n: English is not my first language.

Part 2 / Part 4

Aemond kicks the door open as he enters his penthouse, with Alys hot on his heels. A smug smile on her face. 

“What in the actual fuck was that, Alys?” He growls, his lilac eye burning with hatred.  

Alys throws her purse to the massive sofa and walks towards him, her hips swaying sensually. “what do you mean sweetheart?” She looks up to meet his gaze, a fake innocent smile on her lips. 

“You know very well what I mean.” He spits out. “Who invited you to the party? Cause I'm sure as hell it wasn’t me.” 

Aemond was LIVID. After your last encounter at your place, he texted Alys, breaking their... deal. He wanted to say more than that, to accuse her of declaring that the book you gave him was from her. But he didn’t have the energy so he wrote a simple text. 

Don’t appear in front of me ever again. 

Aemond consumed a lot of his time thinking about his feelings towards you. Wishing to stop being a coward and confess his feelings for you but it wasn’t that easy. The fear of being rejected and ruining your friendship made him almost explode from anxiety. Spending most of his nights awake, his mind plagued by the thoughts of you.  

When you refused his invitation, he accepted his fate by going alone to the party. Not wanting anyone else but you. But unfortunately, Alys had other things in mind. Appearing by his side when he walks into the red carpet, interweaving her slim arm around his.  

That made the paparazzi go wild. The flash of the cameras shooting so fast almost made his only good eye go blind. Journalists shouted question after question, asking if they were together and if yes, how long.  

Before Alys could reply something stupid, Aemond pull her away into the party. Leaving behind the crazy mess of confused journalists. 

That night passed so fucking slow. Aemond couldn’t stand Alys anymore, hating how she made them look like they were married or something whenever someone approach them. 

Helaena gave him a confusing look, surprised to see Alys with him and not you.  

“I may or may not ask for a lil favor from your kind older brother.” She said with a wicked smile. 

Aemond knew something was wrong with Aegon cause since he arrived at the party, Aegon have been hiding away from him as if Aemond was the plague in person. That bastard put her name on the guest list. 

“Alys... This is getting out of hand.” He sighs, resting his head on his hand. Feeling a headache start to form. “You knew that I didn’t want you at the party. You know that things between us are over!”  

Alys frowns, her eyes shining with rage. “Is this because of that handicapped girl?” she snaps. “Y/n, is it? Such a boring name but at least it suits her.”  

Aemond could feel his blood boiling at her words, grabbing roughly her arm. Forcing her to meet his hateful gaze. “Say that again or Gods help me, direct a simple word towards Y/n and I will end your modeling career in one day. Do you hear me?” He growls lowly, noticing a hit of fear in her eyes but it was gone quickly. 

She pulls away and grabs her purse. “You will regret this, Aemond.” She snarls, walking towards the door. “Mark my words.” And with that, she was gone. 

Aemond groans and falls down to his sofa, sighing as his tense body melts into the soft cushions. He grabs his phone and quickly texts Aegon. 

Aemond sighs tiredly, losing all hope for his brother. 

Finally, it’s over. Now he can focus on you.  

//// 

You hum happily as you pack up your books, being done with the classes. Helaena stood by your side, eyeing you skeptically.  

“Someone is in a good mood.” She says while walking out of the class with you. “Did something good happen during the weekend?”  

A shy smile appears on your lips as you recall that today was Monday. The day of your first training with your new guide dog. You are so excited to start training that you almost couldn’t sleep the other night. But there was another thing you were also excited about. To spend more time with Cregan.  

Cregan Stark was the definition of a true gentleman.  

During your appointment with him, he was kind and patient. Asking some questions of how was your way of living, your schedules, whether your university accepts guide dogs in their establishment, etc.  

His question was to help him find the perfect dog for you, with the right personality and temperament. 

He also explained how this was a family business, taking great pride to train and give lovely homes to those great beasts so they could help people in need. The way he excitedly explains everything about his work to you, shows you how he loves his job. 

After all the talk, he took you to see his dogs. The sound of all of them whining and barking happily as they see their owner, wanting pets and treats from him, made you smile brightly. 

Cregan told you to take a seat while he went to get the dog that he had in mind. After a few seconds, the sound of heavy paws stomping the ground made your head perk up.  

“Easy boy! We don’t want to scare your new owner, don’t we?” Cregan says with a laugh as the massive dog tries to jump onto your lap. “This is Knight. He’s one year old, perfect to begin his training. He’s already trained with the basics but his guide dog training will begin with you.” 

“Knight... What a cute name.” You pet his massive head, feeling his soft fur through your slim fingers.” Will you be my Knight in shining armor?” a giggle exploded from as Knight bumps his head against your chest. “Can you describe him for me?”  

“Oh.. Of course!” You hear him taking a seat beside you and you felt his fingers brush through yours as he pets Knight’s head. “He is 34 inches in height, he weights now 60 pounds but when he’s fully grown, he will be 120 pounds. Part of his weight is fur, so don’t worry.” 

Your eyes widened, feeling a little nervous thinking of how he will fit in your small apartment. Well, you two will fit perfectly but you couldn’t have more people over, or else no one will move around the apartment freely. 

“His coat is pitch black with a small spot of white on his chest.” A giggle fell from your lips as Knight start licking your hands. “He has heterochromia, his right eye is light blue and his left eye is dark brown.”  

Your smile fell a little as the image of Aemond came to your mind. Of course, Aemond doesn’t have heterochromia but Knight’s eyes made you remind of him.  

After meeting Knight and getting used to him, Cregan said that you will begin the training that week. 2 hours for three days a week, after your classes, and you will meet him at the park with Knight.  

“Get everything ready for Knight this Monday cause after the first class, you will take him with you to your home.” He says as he escorts you to the door. “You will bring him with you everywhere you go, so he can get to know the space you frequent.”  

You nod and said your goodbyes. 

~~~~ 

“Well let’s say I have a date with a big haired boy,” you say with a giggle, referring to Knight but Helaena didn’t know that which made her look at you with a confused look on her face.  

“What?” she asks, watching you walk into the bus. 

You wink in her direction, well at least you think you did. “You will see tomorrow.” And with that, you are gone. 

Helaena quickly grabs her phone and texts Aemond. 

//// 

“Good! Now you can give him a treat.” Cregan says, watching you order Knight to sit so you can give him the treat. “You both seem to work very well together.”  

You gave him a cheerful smile. “Knight is a great work partner! I couldn’t have wished for a better dog than him.”  

Cregan hums and start packing up his stuff, ending his class early cause of the dark clouds forming above them in the sky. “I think it might rain. Let's end here” He says as he starts feeling small drops falling on him.  

You nod and start guiding Knight toward the path to your house. “Alright! Thank you for the class, Cregan! See you tomorrow.” You waved at him and start walking.  

“Huh... Wait! I'll accompany you to your apartment.” He jogs to you just as you walk out of the park. “Since it’s Knight's first trip to your house, I wanna see if he pays attention to the path.”  

“Oh?... Sure!” You say as you both start walking to your house, praising Knight during the trip as he pays attention to every corner and smell. 

//// 

Aemond was sitting in his car in front of your building when he sees you with a big, handsome guy beside you, laughing at some joke he told. Aemond’s blood boils with jealousy. Who does this guy think he is?  

His eye widen when he sees a massive black dog walking beside you with a harness saying “Guide Dog! Please Do not touch him!”  

“So this guy is the guide dog trainer Y/n talked about...” He hums, his large hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as anger and jealousy ran through his blood.  

He watches both of you walking in your building, noticing the guy’s hand dangerously resting on your lower back.  

Turning his car on, he drives back to his place. He needs advice on this matter. He never had a serious relationship before or fight for someone since women mostly throw themself at him.  

The first person that comes to his mind is his sweet sister, Helaena. She must know how he can conquer you back. She knows what to do.  

Relax, Aemond. It will be fine... I hope... 

.

.

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Mission Failed

Simon “Ghost” Riley x M!Reader x John “Soap” MacTavish

Last Edited: 17/03/2023

TW: slight angst, foul language, violence, blood, gore, gunshot wound, death mention

@denzellovehazelnuts: Hi! hope you have a good day! Can you do a poly "Ghost x male reader x Soap" (if you comfortable writing poly relationship) with slow burn, angst and fluff at the end? Where Ghost and Soap already in a relationship until the reader came into their team The two male thought the reader wasn't talkative around people but few weeks later, things change at first Ghost seems interesting in the male skill using gun and how fast he can run and Soap like the male sense of humour. Both of them thought it only a friendship type of things. Until the male save Ghost from the enemy on the battlefield and him laughing at Soap jokes. That when the two males known what happen to them, they weren't sure if M/n would comfortable in a relationship with them, so they start doing small things for him like making coffee or helping training,.. And M/n notice it, he even started to fall for the both of them. But he keep denying the things they did for him because he thought that what friend do. and M/n don't think he is ready for a new relationship, he wasn't sure he is good enough for them (the male got trauma from the previous relationships) (more angst please, I would like to suffer for a little bit) (・∀・) After a while, the three of them got into a mission together, everything went good until the male got shot. He thought he going to be de@d soon (only to find out that he only got shot at his leg) so M/n confessed how he feel about the two of them. (andddd I don't know what to do with the ending cause I'm ran out of idea. I would want to see how the treated each other when got into a relationship. Sorry about the grammar, English isn't my first language)

Word Count: 2,654

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: hiiii! i dont do heavy angst but i did do some u know? slow burn it is!!! srry it took so long! irl things hold me back a lot. N since u wanted slow burn, n with all that uve put (about 350 words of things i can work on/with 2 get this drawn out as a full-on fic!! yay!) i had 2 like. try n put all u wanted in there so yea! hope u enjoy!! also! i threw in some other characters like gaz n roach. hope u dont mind em being in here since this is like, a mash of cod n codmw2 (canon? what cancon?) cause i rlly do wanna put some other characters in here that i find interesting n build some sort of character/personality 4 the reader. reader deserves some cool friends-2-brothers!

At first, you hadn’t wanted to join Task Force 141. You were comfortable with your position as the quiet, but light on your feet, knife specialist. Well, that wasn’t truly your title. You were just good with knives. You weren’t too shotty with a gun either. Either weapon being in your hands meant blood was going to be shed. KorTac needed those types, especially those who could use it to get in as well as out; you also couldn’t forget about using your skills to get information. Torturing the prisoners wasn’t something you particularly liked, but you were good at it too. Combining your skills with knives and guns, it truly was hell for anyone on the opposite side of your team. You also couldn’t forget that, out of the others, you were much faster. Sure, some could still beat you at times but that didn’t mean you weren’t good. Bets had been constantly taking place with you, along with others as it was one of the few things any of you could do to pass the time in a less-than-bloody manner.

The transfer from KorTac to Task Force 141 wasn’t smooth. Horangi, or Kim Hong-jin, didn’t let you go for weeks. You were part of his team, one of his men. The leader of KorTac is what most of you saw him as. He knew many of you like the back of his hand. Not to mention, a tiger can be cruel but would never devour its cubs for no reason, well, as some say. As far as you knew, because you were all together, you were a team and therefore family. While there were others who didn’t get along, out in the field, all of you had each other’s back. Very rarely did anyone get left to perish to the enemy.

With all that in mind, it took weeks for him to let you go. More or less, Laswell was the one to convince him; that is if you call bringing each plus every person in KorTac to ruins as “convincing”. She wanted you on a team she could keep tabs on you; doubting her power and skills was out of the question. Which meant leaving KorTac to ensure that everyone else was free from possible imprisonment or death was necessary.

Fitting in wasn’t too hard considering most of the people there were from all over the place. While it’s odd for a member from another team to suddenly appear on another, it didn’t bother most of the others. Just from a glance, you could tell who was into who; as well as who exactly was in a relationship. A man by the name of Ghost including another called Soap, you knew were together. Soap flirted with almost everyone, though it was more teasing and lighthearted. With Ghost though? The flirting went up by twenty percent. His dial for teasing went up tenfold too. Meanwhile, Ghost hardly looked at anyone else, nevertheless, stare at them unless they were the Scottish man. Frankly, you didn’t mind. Who were you to judge the two? Especially when they were good at what they did.

It takes weeks before you’re comfortable enough to so much as talk to anyone 141. Gaz, or Kyle as Soap tended to call him when annoyed, is the first to so much as approach you. While the others are interested, you coming from KorTac had put them off for a bit. Gaz on the other hand treats you like a brother. He’ll throw his arm around your shoulder, dragging you around as he laughs about the past or even at your jokes. At meals, he always throws a raised eyebrow at those who look at you oddly when you’re quiet or sitting with the man. He treats you like you’re part of the team, furthermore, that truly means more than anything to you.

The man is just as bloodthirsty as you are. His stories of falling out of planes along with taking out enemies only lead to you looking up to your new teammate and brother. His tales of meeting Captain Price, past missions, a few tidbits of him being with the SAS, together with some metals he’s earned, only makes you want to pry more stories from the man; not like you don’t have to try. Simply asking about his stories leads to at least an hour-long spill of them from the guy.

And with his stories comes a few of your own. You don’t share much of them, knowing Gaz spreads them to the rest of the team with more dramatics to try to get you to interact with the others. Something you do learn about him that you always keep in mind from his stories is that his blood type is B Negative and shooting any dog, wild or not, makes him feel a bit guilty; he had to shoot one a while ago and apologised to the poor mutt after having to put it down to finish his mission.

With all that he’s shared and how the both of you see each other as brothers, it’s only fair that you let yourself talk to the others in the team. Though your words are short, along with your jokes being told quickly to distract yourself from the stressful situations, you allow yourself to slowly relax with the others. Gaz’s constant support helps you finally allow yourself to bond with your new team and family. It’s only after a mission that things change. 

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Take the left! Keep your heads down and keep movin’!” Captain Price’s voice rings out in your earpiece. Everything has gone to shit. The intel you’ve been getting was entirely a trap. You’re running through an underground tunnel, Ghost and another man named Roach is running in front of you.

Roach is a quiet man, never talking or letting out a sound, but semi-friendly. From his actions and what you’ve been told of him, he does his best to complete the missions to the tea. The few interactions you’ve had with him were silent but nice. Whether or not he’s mute has crossed your mind time and mind again but you don’t ask; you’d rather leave the man be. After all, he has become something like a friend maybe even another brother.

“Copy. We’re nearly out. Roach and [Redacted] are with me,” Ghost responds, quickening his pace. The rifle smacks against your back as you speed up to keep up with the other two men. Despite the situation, the three of you remain as calm as you can be.

“You’re bein’ tracked like a rabbit is by a hound, Ghost! Move it!” The captain’s orders are clear and the worry is read between the lines. If you three don’t get out, it’s a huge blow to 141. Not only that, but Soap loses his boyfriend, Gaz loses two of his best friends as well as brothers, you three lose your lives, and Task Force 141 loses three of its members. Dying isn’t an option here.

“We have company,” Your words are muffled by your gear but the two soldiers in front of you hear them in their own pieces.

“Fuckin’ hell-” Ghost’s sentence gets cut off by gunfire from behind. Turning around, you fire the Lachmann Sub in your possession.

“We gotta go! They’re gaining!” You clip one of the enemies in the shoulder and another is hit in the stomach. Picking up the speed, the three of you try to beat them out of the tunnel. You cover the back, hoping the two get out before you. If you get surrounded, it’s over.

Thankfully, they haven’t reached the other end of the tunnel as the three of your burst out of the exit. You grab a grenade, pull the pin and throw it in the tunnel. As soon as it leaves your hands, you’re running faster to get to Roach and Ghost before anything else can; one arm wraps around each of your teammates’ necks, dragging them down to the ground as the little metal bomb goes off. Debris flies everywhere, looking for an area to land after being shot out of its place.

With the tunnel exist now collapsed along with no more flying rock and metal, you release the men. “How copy?” Crackles through each of your earpieces. You knock your forearm into Roach’s upper arm, eyes crinkling from your smile. He gives you a grateful nod, standing. You smack Ghost’s arm as he stands, glad to have escaped the enemies for now.

“Tunnel’s collapsed. We’re good. Ready for extraction, Sir,” Blunt and straight to the point are the skull-masked man’s words.

“Good. Heli’s close by. Move to the edge of the town.” With the three of you alive, you can practically feel Captain Price’s relief.

“Copy that, Captain,” Your muffled response comes before Ghost can send in his own. He scans you from the corner of his eye but doesn’t give you a retort. You do, however, hear a small huff of air leave him. You throw your arm around Roach’s neck again, puffs of air leaving you from happiness, meanwhile, his arm comes around your back. Seems the three of you live another day.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After that mission, Ghost tends to lurk around you more than he originally had. It didn’t help that Soap tends to tag along as well. Thankfully, he finds your jokes hilarious if the loud, boisterous laughter he lets out all the time tells you anything. His teasing ends up piling onto you as well. Before, it was light as well as spread out. Now, it’s almost like he’s talking to Ghost with all the teasing and flirting he now does with you. His boyfriend hardly seems concerned but rather encourages his behaviour. Of course, that doesn’t mean he goes easy on you when the two of your spar together. He’s dead serious when it comes to sparring; it’s only a reminder that while he does good off, he’s just as dangerous as the rest of them.

The two men seem to be fixated on wanting to help you out in training as well. More pointers plus tips are thrown your way when you practice with either of them. Sometimes, they’ll even make you coffee for those sleepless nights. Mentioning such things to Gaz and Roach only leads to your sworn brothers giving you knowing looks or a few teasing words; Gaz is the one with the teasing remarks while Roach pats your shoulder in a mocking but teasing “you poor man” way. Neither seems keen on wanting to spill the tea on why the Scottish and British men have been more affectionate.

While you enjoy their kind gestures, including their company, you’re not sure if you’re ready to admit to yourself, or them, about such feelings or relationships. On the surface, you truly do want to ask them if this is some sort of flirting schtick they have going on. Deep down though, the idea of being with anyone again makes your stomach fill with the lead. How could you enter another relationship? After the last one ended with your soon-to-be fiance’s brains splattered all over a brick wall. How can you move past that? How can you allow yourself to find someone like them? Or even better than them? The answer to that is a sigh alongside a bitter smile. The ring hiding under your tactical gloves seems to burn your skin. Truly, how can you let your first love go? After all, if you weren’t good enough to keep them alive, how can you keep these two from meeting the same gorey end?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“To think I’d find myself here… How fuckin’ funny,” You mumble. Another mission, this one just like all the others. Well, it would have been if you hadn’t been shot. The blood leaking from your leg alongside a knife wound to your side leave you in pain. Feeling weak isn’t something uncommon but neither is it constantly happening. Words are being spoken to you through your headset. You were to be the lookout but ended up being the enemy's first target.

“How copy?” Rings in your ears. Your eyes stare blankly in front of you. You feel pathetic. Too tired to talk. Too tired to get up. You just sit, popped up against a tree in the heavily wooded area. You’ve failed, failed, failed.

“C’mon, Mate, how do ya copy?” Soap’s voice is worried and winded. He and Ghost are the people you’ve been teamed up with and you’ve failed.

“[Redacted], how copy?” The next tone is Ghost’s. It sounds slightly strained.

“Mission Failed,” You croak, head tilted back and against the tree.

“Status report, Mate. Where are ya?” He’s rushing, possibly panicked now.

“Got two wounds. Gunshot to the thigh. Knife to the side. Bleeding pretty bad, Soap.” You close your eyes, sighing.

“State your location.” The Brit seems to be just as worried as his Scottish counterpart.

“Dunno. Woods. Against a tree… There’s a lot of blood. Feelin’ woozy.” When you open your eyes, your sight is blurred. You’re losing too much blood.

“Keep talkin’ to us then, yeah? You’ll make it out. We’ll get out together,” The Scot’s words, though hopeful, only make you scoff quietly.

“You know… If I get outta here… Think we can go out sometime? Bourbon and whiskey? The three of us?”

“When we get out, [Redacted]. There’s no if here,” The masked man makes it sound final like there’s no way you’ll die on them.

“Yeah… Yeah..” You don’t say anymore, everything slowly hazing away. It’s like your floating in winter with how cold you feel.

“[Redacted]? Don’t sleep! C’mon! Keep ya eyes open!” Soap’s words fade away along with everything else. All that waits is cold darkness.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“So… Think you can handle our drinking date after this?” Soap perches on the side table, messing with a lighter he took from Ghost.

“After he’s healed, Johnny. No alcohol before,” A semi-scolding is all the man gets from the brooding Ghost. You laugh slightly, jostling your wounds. You wince but wave off the concerned looks you get.

“After I’m no longer full of holes, Johnny-boy.” You take a sip of water afterwards, making Soap frown playfully.

“And to think I was gonna bring out the good shit fer ya. A shame. A damn shame.” You gently shake your head. It was a close call but Ghost got to you before you completely bled out. From what you’ve been told by Gaz, who yelled at you for an hour after you woke up from your four-day sleep, Ghost and Soap dragged you back to the helicopter. Both refused to leave your side. Captain Price ended up having to yell at the men and bribe them with a bit of alcohol to get them to even go to their own rooms. You made sure to apologize to Gaz, hugging him tightly after his blow-up. He thought he was going to lose a friend and family member so you couldn’t blame him.

Roach gave you the cold should for a while before appearing in your room with a cup of coffee. He made sure to smack the back of your head for your stupidity as well, though it was hardly rough. You grabbed the man before he could so much as bolt though when he saw you getting up to hug him. He hadn’t pushed you away though. And the captain? It felt like you were a kid again with how he pinned you with his stare. He made sure to tell you exactly how he felt, going from angry, to disappointed, to angry again. Another guy you couldn’t blame anything on. But you get to live another day at least. And you get to have that date with the two guys who were able to grab ahold of your heart after a long-time of heartache and loss.

[aebi12]

"Resentment" - Chapter 19 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Masterlist of my other works.

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You're not thinking about meeting him.” Marianne says, her voice a whisper even though they are in the safety of her room.

“It is a terrible idea,” she says, nodding.

Still…

Rhaena bites the inside of her lip. Why would Corwyn ask to see her so secretly? Why did he insist on them talking? Did it have something to do with his sister’s plans?

“No, no, no,” Marianne shakes her head, “I do not like what I see in your eyes.”

“I do not think it has anything to do with…”

“The prince will go mad if he finds out,” her friend interrupts, “He’s already threatened to hurt Ser Corwyn for his closeness to you, what do you think he will do if he hears you are meeting him in the middle of the night?”

“I know, believe me, I know,” Rhaena sighs, “But I doubt Corwyn would want to talk to me about feelings.”

“So why would he ask to see you?” Marianne asks.

There is a moment of hesitation.

“It is better for you to know nothing,” Rhaena finishes, “Believe me, it’s better for you not to get involved in this. If this is about what I am thinking it is, it will be better for you to have no idea at all.”

“Your answers do not reassure me, Rhaena,” Marianne takes her hands, pleading, “Please do not go.”

“I have to,” she says, “I will be careful, I promise.”

“I am going with you.”

“No, no, I cannot drag you into this.”

“Too bad,” her lady replies fiercely, “Either you go with me or you do not go at all”

“Marianne, this is not a game and it could be dangerous.”

“That is why,” she continues, “I will be your alibi. If anyone sees us, they will be less suspicious of two noble ladies. If they ask questions, we’ll say you couldn’t sleep because you were nervous about the wedding and that I accompanied you for a walk in the gardens.”

“Are you sure?”

“I told you. Either you go with me or you are not going”

Marianne’s honey-colored eyes meet hers, and Rhaena reads the decision in them. Finally, grateful and relieved, she accepts, “Thank you, Anne.”

Neither of them can do much after that.

As the hours pass, they are both too nervous to converse or distract themselves with any pastimes, so they simply pretend to get ready for the night when the maids come to help them.

In the end, Marianne blows out all the candles in the room and they wait until the noises of the Keep subside until only the chirping of the night birds can be heard.

“It is time,” Rhaena whispers into the darkness, pulling the sheets off her and getting out of bed.

Silently, they put the dark cloaks over their night robes and leave the room. Rhaena silently thanks that they never put guards at her door, which made it much easier to simply wander through the castle.

As expected, the halls are empty, but they move forward with extreme caution, taking care not to be seen by the eventual guards who guard some parts of the keep.

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

Rhaena considers asking her to, but knows it is wiser for Marianne to wait outside in case someone approaches. Besides, she cannot risk Corwyn being dishonest with her in case he distrusts her lady.

“I’d better go alone,” she says finally.

“Do not take tong. Please.”

Rhaena reassures her with a quick handshake and walks through the stone arches that mark the beginning of the godswood.

The place is absolutely silent, although the cold wind rustles the blood-red leaves of the weirwoods, which drag through the roots. If Rhaena hadn’t visited the place before, her heart would probably have stopped as she looks at the faces carved into the trees, faces that seem harder in the dark, as if they were frowning, as if they were judging her or…

“You came.”

Rhaena stumbles when the voice suddenly reaches her ears. Turning towards the sound, she sees a hooded figure also emerging from behind one of the weirwoods.

“It is I, do not fear.”

Corwyn closes the distance between them and Rhaena finally calms down as she looks at the familiar face.

“I can’t stay too long.”

“I know, I know,” he says, “But I had to talk to you.”

“What is it? Is it about…?”

“Do you love me, Rhaena?”

It takes a few seconds for Rhaena to register the question he just asked her.

“What?”

“I need to know, I need to know that I didn’t make up this feeling. I know that you love me too…”

“You asked me to come here to talk about your feelings?”

Her voice sounds full of disbelief, her face must show her shock and her words, harsh, cause Corwyn to blush.

“I cannot believe it,” Rhaena steps back, “I am here, risking the sullying of my reputation for… for you, because I thought we would talk about…”

“Is there anything more important than what we feel?” he interrupts her again, moving towards her and taking her hands in his, “Rhaena, I know we care for each other. I know it is something more, I can feel it and I can… I think I can get you out of here.”

“Get me out of here? Out of the Keep, you mean?”

“Yes, we can run away. Together.”

“What you suggest is madness,” Rhaena pulls her hands from Corwyn’s

“I have allies. People who want you well, they can help us escape.”

“No, Corwyn, no, you cannot be serious.”

“I have never been more serious, Rhaena, I cannot leave you here. I cannot bear the thought of you marrying the prince. He does not deserve you, he is a kinslayer, a man without honor.”

“And where is your honor if we escape?” she hisses, “Have you thought about it? The shame you will bring upon your house if you carry out such an absurd idea. The dishonor you would condemn me to. Not to mention that they would find us immediately.”

“Vhagar is no longer a threat.”

“But Tessarion is.”

“Rhaena, please, I only ask you…” Corwyn grimaces, “You cannot want to marry him.”

“It is not about what I want.”

“Then let’s leave, please, we would just have to hide for a while. Just until…”

Corwyn cuts himself off. Rhaena notices the indecision on his face and knows there is something he does not want to tell her. Something that, surely, is linked to the plans that her sister and who knows what other lords of Westeros are plotting. The voice, that little part of her that prefers to be careful and not find out anything, asks her to let it go. But she is too angry. Too tired of being in the shadows, so she pushes for answers.

“Just until…” she repeats, “Finish what you were going to say.”

“Trust me, Rhaena…”

“No, no,” she replies, “Speak, Corwyn, tell me what you and Lord Tarly are planning.”

Corwyn purses his lips and their gazes meet for a few seconds before finally relenting.

“Until the true and rightful heir sits on the throne,” he says, “Our allies will once again be the ones to take power and we can be together. It won’t be long, I assure you.”

The true and rightful heir.

The words echo in her mind. Is he talking about Baela’s son? There is no one else who can be considered as such…

She is so lost in her thoughts that she does not notice that Corwyn has taken her arm and intends to lead her to the other end of the godswood.

“If we hurry…”

“Let go of me,” she says quietly as she finally snaps out of her trance, breaking free from Corwyn’s grip. Anger grows even more within her, “I will not go with you.”

“Rhaena,” his voice is almost a plea

“No, Corwyn. I cannot go with you.”

I do not want to go with you.

That is what she thinks, but does not say.

“It will be best if we go our separate ways from now on,” she continues in a determined voice, “I will be the prince’s wife and you will return to the Vale. If you value your life and the peace of the kingdom, abandon the fantasies my sister and the other lords have impress upon you. You will gain nothing from that. At least nothing more than risking your life.”

“Risking my life,” he repeats in a pained and bitter voice, “Do you even care what happens to me?”

“I do care, of course I do. Maybe not to the extent that you wish, but I have a lot of affection for you, Corwyn.”

Rhaena does not expect him to reply, and he does not seem like he’s going to say anything else, so she turns her back and practically runs the other way, meeting Marianne under the stone arches.

“Oh, gods, finally,” her lady whispers, relieved.

“Let’s go. I am done here.”

***

Aegon cannot stand for more than a few seconds.

Aemond, standing near the fireplace, watches with impatience and pity as his brother tries to keep his balance while dragging his left leg.

“I assure you that your people will perfectly understand your absence.”

The king makes a noise of frustration and shakes his head. The maester rushes to help him when it is obvious that he cannot help himself.

“I already said that I will attend the damn wedding and I intend to keep my word.”

Despite his anger, he lets the maester guide him to the bed and apply ointment to the wounds that never quite heal.

If his brother’s condition had been bad before his confrontation with Moondancer, it is much worse now. His broken legs have not healed properly, so he constantly drags one of them and, even with the staff, he can only stand for a couple of minutes due to the terrible pain he experiences.

Nevertheless, Aegon insists on attending the wedding and enjoying the feasts and celebrations.

Aemond remains silent while Orwyle tucks his brother in and, once they are alone again, brings up the subject of his visit.

“Have you made a decision?”

“What? About Baela?” the king sips from his wine goblet. Aemond nods in his direction, “Let them marry. It is ridiculous to even consider that her son could take the throne,” Aegon lets out a dismissive chuckle.

“The council has this idea that…”

“Fuck the council,” he interrupts, “No one will think of Baela once you and her sister have a child. So, hurry up and fuck her and place a son in her womb, then we won’t need to discuss this matter any further.”

Aemond purses his lips at his brother’s words, contempt and annoyance flooding his body. These aren’t new emotions, exasperated as he almost always feels when he talks to the king, what is new is that it is not the idea of ​​having a child with Rhaena that bothers him, but the crudeness with which his older brother refers to her. “If you are sure, then I will make your decision known,” he finally says, “There is another marriage I wanted to tell you about.”

“Whose?”

“Daeron”

“Oh,” the king seems interested, “Who is the candidate?”

“Marianne Westerling. Noble, educated, heiress to a considerable fortune, a house loyal to us.”

“And Daeron?”

“I imagine he agrees, considering he made a spectacle of himself yesterday before he began his participation in the tournament by asking for her favor in front of everyone.”

“Did he do that? Hmmm,” Aegon laughs again, “I remember the Westerling girl. A petite, adorable little thing. If they want to go ahead with the wedding, that is fine by me.”

“Good.”

“Perhaps we could send him to Harrenhal with his new wife. He and Tessarion would ensure the Tullys remain loyal to the throne.”

Aemond grimaces, his hands fiddling with the hem of his doublet. He does not like to think of Harrenhal, or even hear the place mentioned. “That matter is settled, our brother's presence is not necessary so far from the capital”

“Harrenhal has been abandoned since the war”

“It is better that it remains that way. The income goes directly to the throne and, when it is convenient, it can be given as a reward”

“It is not a bad idea,” Aegon agrees

“Daeron could go to Dragonstone. The castle and grounds need repairs too. And it is our ancestral home.”

“Dragonstone,” Aegon nods, “So our dear mother does not lose her favorite son.”

His brother’s laughter fills the room, but Aemond ignores it.

“Rest. You need it.”

“Let me know who wins the tourney,” he replies when Aemond is close to the door.

***

The prince knows her well enough to know that something is bothering her.

Not just because Rhaena is unusually quiet this morning, her eyes seemingly fixed on the arena where Ser Simon Dondarrion is advancing against some knight from the Westerlands, though it is clear she is not following the fight. Her hands keep moving, fiddling with the folds of the light blue dress she is wearing.

It is not unusual, he thinks, that Rhaena cannot keep still. He's noticed it several times already during their moments of forced company. It is just that, usually, she is only this restless when she is trying to contain her temper so as not to say what she really thinks or when something bores her.

Now, however, there is absolute silence as her eyes scan the crowd and the nobles sitting in the adjacent stands. Looking for someone in particular? Corbray? The thought fills him with… Aemond shakes his head. No. He had been very clear with her. She was not to get any closer to Corbray.

The prince watches her for a few more minutes and considers asking her what is going through her mind, but decides not to. It is probably just nerves about the wedding, or the news about her sister or some other reason. Nothing that really matters. Nothing that should really matter to him.

Still, her hands that never stop moving are exasperating him, so he reaches out and covers hers. Rhaena immediately stills and jumps a little, surprised by his advance. His betrothed turns to look at him, questioning him with her gaze. Aemond meets her violet eyes and sees in them something that seems like hesitation and… fear? Anxiety? He does not know. He just caresses her hands until she visibly relaxes, her tense shoulders fall and the beginning of a smile appears on her thin lips.

Aemond cocks his head and looks back at the arena. Benjicot Blackwood has defeated his challenger and he and Daeron will face off for the prize of tournament winner. The prospect is not pleasant to him. He knows that his brother and the lord of Raventree Hall do not like each other. Both young men had been important during the war for their respective sides and Daeron resented the losses Blackwood had caused the greens.

On the other side, his mother seems to be thinking something similar, her expression pale and her fingers trembling as she nibbles from time to time.

“Blackwood would be a fool to seriously injure a prince of the realm, fear not, mother,” he says, leaning towards Alicent.

She offers him a nervous smile, “You may be right, but these fights are too violent and unpredictable to be certain of that.”

Still, Aemond is satisfied when the Dowager Queen reaches out to place her hand on his arm for just a moment, squeezing it affectionately, clearly grateful for his words and his attempt to comfort her.

The trumpet sounds again and Daeron Targaryen and Benjicot Blackwood enter the arena, being greeted by a crowd of excited cries from the common people. Both of their names are chanted, clearly both having enough support for the showdown that is about to take place. When they reach the middle of the arena, they both salute each other as a sign of respect and then guide their horses to their respective ends, where their squires rush to give them their lances.

His brother’s dragon armor gleams in the morning sun, and despite the distance, Aemond can tell he’s concentrating hard. When the signal is given, both lords spur their horses forward and come together. The prince holds his breath as Blackwood’s lance hits Daeron in the right shoulder, causing him to stagger dangerously from his horse.

Beside him, Rhaena shifts nervously in her seat, and his mother looks close to tears. His brother manages to stay on his mount, and the attack resumes. Aemond moves to the edge of his saddle when, the next time they meet, it’s Blackwood who is struck in the hip. Still, the lord of the Riverlands does not fall. And the crowd cheers, all wanting to continue watching the tourney.

“I do not like this,” his mother says, her voice full of panic.

Neither does Aemond. Because it is clear, when the weapons clash again, that his brother has lost. Benjicot Blackwood's spear hits him in the stomach, causing the breastplate of his armor to hollow out and the crowd to hold their breath as Daeron moves just a few meters and ends up falling.

Rhaena, like the Dowager Queen, stands and clings to the edge of the platform, wanting to make sure Daeron is okay. Servants rush to his brother, tending to him. At the other end, Blackwood celebrates his victory, smiling at the common people and his hateful grandmother, who applaud him proudly. Aemond glares at them for a moment before turning his gaze back to Daeron.

A shadow suddenly crosses the sky and Tessarion's roar paralyzes the crowd's yells. His brother's dragon circles the arena and roars once more. The prince also approaches the edge of the platform and raises his good eye to the sky, watching Tessarion, fearing for a moment that she might come down to the arena. The people seem on the verge of panic, but when Daeron manages to stand up and walk a few meters to his opponent, everything returns to normal. The dragon walks away and the mood returns to the tournament.

When it comes time for Benjicot Blackwood to crown the fairest lady in the tournament as Queen of Love and Beauty, the man trots his horse up to the royal platform. Blackwood moves his horse forward slowly and toys with the crown of roses in his hand, bowing to Alicent and then to Rhaena. For a moment, as Aemond and the lord of the Raventree Hall meet in their gazes, the prince feels as if he is about to stop in front of his betrothed and bestow the honor upon her. Which would be no surprise, considering that the tournament was held for their wedding. Still, he resents the thought and follows Blackwood's progress intently.

But, against all odds, the man continues to the other courtiers' stands and, to everyone's surprise, stops in front of Marianne Westerling. The girl, clearly as astonished as everyone else, receives the crown with trembling hands. And though a polite smile and courteous words fall from her lips, her eyes quickly travel to Daeron, still standing in the arena, who observes the scene with a seemingly impassive expression.

Aemond knows his brother and knows that he hides his annoyance well at what he must clearly consider a bold move on Blackwood's part. And the rest of the kingdom, including the common people, must be thinking something similar because the murmurs soon begin. Whispers about how Lord Blackwood has chosen to name the lady who gave her favor to Prince Daeron, his rival, as queen of love and beauty.

His mother, pale but relieved, immediately leaves the royal box, presumably to go to his younger brother.

“That was strange,” Rhaena stands and walks beside Aemond

“It was an affront.”

Aemond expects Rhaena to say something contrary to his impression of Blackwood’s actions, but to his surprise, his betrothed says nothing. Her thoughts clearly still elsewhere.

“Let me know if Daeron is okay,” she comments when they reach the carriages

“Will you be returning to the castle?”

“Yes, I think I should lie down for a while, I do not feel so well.”

The prince examines her closely. She certainly looks tired, her eyes lined with dark circles and her expression clearly exhausted.

“Of course.”

“Let Daeron know that it was a good fight.”

Aemond just nods and watches her board one of the carriages without waiting for her lady-in-waiting, who is also nowhere to be found.

For a few seconds, he watches the carriage drive away back towards the city. Then, he makes his way to the participants’ tents, having little trouble finding his brother’s.

“How is the prince, grand maester?”

His mother’s impatient and nervous voice reaches him as he pushes aside the cloths and enters inside. Alicent stands watching a clearly upset Daeron being examined by Orwyle.

“I told you, mother, I am fine.”

“Hush, Daeron, let the grand maester examine you properly.”

Aemond discreetly stands beside his mother, observing the bruises that are beginning to form on his brother’s body. The young prince also has a few scrapes on his cheek and the knuckles of his hands.

“Well, the prince is right, your grace,” Orwyle finally speaks, “There are no broken bones or wounds to worry about. Just bruises that will heal in a couple of days.”

The relief is clear in Alicent, who seems to finally let go of all the worry of the last few days.

“I told you I was fine,” Daeron replies, though he lets the maester apply ointments to his body.

“You need to rest. Let’s get back to the castle as soon as possible.”

“I do not think that is necessary. Besides, Tessarion needs my attention.”

“Your dragon will be fine,” his mother cuts him off.

Daeron insists, but his mother’s resolve is greater, so the three of them return to the Red Keep together, and though Aemond prefers to return to the peace of the Tower of the Hand, he knows it is best to make sure his brother goes to his chambers.

“She treats me like a little boy,” Daeron comments with a note of bitterness when they are alone in his chambers.

“She cares for you.”

His brother grimaces and drinks the milk of the poppy the maester has left behind.

“Rhaena wanted me to tell you it was a good fight.”

“Yeah, well, I lost,” he grimaces again as he gets into bed.

“Tournaments are not important,” he says dismissively.

“Winning was important to me,” Daeron meets his gaze and seems to hesitate before adding, “Besides, I would have preferred to lose to anyone else.”

Aemond nods.

“Blackwood is arrogant, but he is just another noble lord, you are a Targaryen prince.”

“He challenged me by naming Marianne Queen of the Tournament,” he frowns.

“He used your evident interest in the girl to his advantage.”

“He made me look like a fool.”

His words begin to slur, clearly the milk of the poppy taking effect.

“Rest. We will speak of his affront later.”

His brother nods, his eyes already closed.

Aemond watches him for a few seconds before exiting his room, his thoughts quickly leaving his brother behind and focusing on the tasks as Hand of the king, on the meetings with the council and on…

The prince stops when Rhaena’s voice reaches him. Aemond, who is about to turn into another corridor, stops. His betrothed is not alone, a male voice -which he does not recognize- reaches him. Who is it? And why are they speaking in a tone that sounds confidential right in the corridors of the wing of the royal family's chambers? Carefully, the prince advances to the edge of the wall, peeking out his good eye to observe the scene before him.

Rhaena is there, alone, with Corwyn fucking Corbray. And they are close. Too close. He can’t see his betrothed’s expression, but he can see the man’s. His eyes are full of love and desperation as he takes his cousin’s hands. And she lets him. What shamelessness is this? The jealousy that floods inside him, the anger that invades his body hits him like a wave of fire that makes his hand go instinctively to his Valyrian steel dagger.

“I feel ashamed of my behavior”

“There is no need to talk about this anymore”

“No, no, Rhaena, please forgive me,” Corbray insists, “It was a mistake to ask you to meet me last night.”

“I know, but it was not just your fault, it was me who willingly went to see you.”

Aemond’s heart skips a beat at Rhaena’s words, a lump forming in his throat.

“I know I should go, but I just want you to remember that everything I said was real. I…”

“Please don’t,” Rhaena places her fingers over Corbray’s lips, “Do not say it again.”

“I will wait for you. As long as it takes, Rhaena, I will wait for you because I know we will meet again.”

When Corbray starts to lean towards her, clearly intending to kiss her, he can’t hold back any longer. Unsheathing his dagger, Aemond closes the distance between them in two long strides and carelessly pushes Rhaena away from Corbray and to the other side as he grabs the man by the arm and places the dagger beneath his neck.

“The only thing you will meet is your death for daring to touch my betrothed.”

“My prince?”

“Aemond!”

They both speak at once.

Corbray tries to break free from Aemond’s grip, but he doesn’t let him, and as he struggles, the Valyrian steel blade cuts his throat, which, though minimal, gives him satisfaction at the sight of the blood flowing.

“No, no, no, Aemond lower the dagger,” Rhaena has moved closer to him, placing her hands on his arm, her voice desperate, “Aemond, please…”

“I warned you. I told you I didn’t want you to even look at him,” he spits in her direction

“I don’t…”

“It is okay, Rhaena, I deserve it,” Corbray finds Aemond’s good eye, “I admit I overstepped my bounds and…”

“Do you confess to touching her?” Aemond asks

“No!” Rhaena gasps, her eyes fixed on her cousin, “It is not what you think, Aemond, please, please let him go.”

The prince growls. Rhaena’s concern for his lover driving him mad.

“Think of what the other lords will say if you kill him here, please, Aemond, please. Think of your mother, you are a prince, you cannot act like this.”

It is not her words that stop him from slitting Corbray’s throat, but her hands on his face, the softness of her touch on his cheeks. The contact is so unexpected and bold that he steps back, allowing Corbray to do the same and escape his grip.

“Do not touch me!” he hisses in the girl’s direction

And, if Aemond weren’t so furious at having caught them in the act, he would have felt a pang of guilt at the tearful, hurt expression in Rhaena’s violet eyes.

It is concern for his lover, not for you, he thinks.

“Do not talk to her like that!” Corbray takes a few steps in his direction, indignant

“Stop talking!” Rhaena's words are directed at the knight, the desperation in her voice evident. “For the gods, Corwyn, just do not say anything else.”

“I will not let him talk to you like that.”

“You won’t let me?” he says with violence and false amusement, walking towards him again

Rhaena stops his advance, ignoring his warning not to touch him and placing herself between them, turning her back to Corbray.

“Go, Corwyn, go now”

“No. I won’t leave you here with him”

Aemond can’t help but recognize Corbray’s guts. Anger still flows inside him, but when his eye connects with Rhaena’s, the pleading request in them and her small hands on his chest, trying to calm him, make him hesitate. He knows his betrothed’s words are true. He can’t, as much as he wants to, kill Corbray right now.

“You are lucky I won’t turn you into food for my dragon,” he says, tearing his eye away from the girl’s and looking at the knight, “But tomorrow, I will personally kill you at the tournament”

“Aemond, no, please”

He does not listen to her. Corbray holds his gaze and nods, accepting his fate.

“May the gods judge my cause and be with me tomorrow.”

“No, no, please,” Rhaena turns to her old friend, her eyes darting between the two men, “There is no need to…”

“Yes, there is,” Aemond cuts her off, “I warned you. Everything that happens from now on, is your fault. Now, go, before I change my mind and kill you right here.”

Corbray looks back at them both. His eyes connect with Rhaena’s, but he eventually walks away down the hall, leaving them alone.

Tears flood Rhaena’s face as she faces him again, “Please, Aemond. Please do not kill him, he is just a friend, nothing more.”

“You met him in the middle of the night,” he hisses, cutting her off, “I heard you. Will you deny it?”

She shakes her head, “I do not deny it, but nothing happened, believe me.”

“I cannot trust you.”

Rhaena shudders, “I assure you, cousin, we were just talking.”

He snickers, “You expect me to believe that? That you ran into each other in the night and he didn’t take liberties with you? That he didn’t touch you?”

“He did not touch me,” she states vehemently, “I am offended that you even think I would have let him touch me.”

“And what would have happened if I hadn't interrupted you just now? Because you seemed very comfortable having him so close to you.”

“I assure you that was not the case.”

“I do not believe you.”

Aemond turns his back on her and begins walking in the opposite direction, not wanting to listen to her any longer. Not trusting in his impulsiveness if she keeps talking.  

Rhaena doesn’t give up. Walking up to him, she takes him by the arm until he stops. And when the prince faces her, she is no longer crying.

“Then make sure I am telling the truth,” she says, “My virtue is still intact. If that is the doubt you have, take me to your chambers right now.”

“How dare you suggest such a thing?”

“You will do so in a couple of days anyway,” she interrupts, “What is the point of waiting if it will only increase your doubts and bitterness towards me? Take my body and see for yourself that I did not give myself to him.”

The challenge in her voice is clear. As well as her own anger, pain, and desperation.

“Come on, take me,” she repeats, this time punching him in the chest.

And Aemond knows it's better to walk away, knows not to even consider her words.

But he is too frustrated and filled with jealousy.

“Fine, if you insist on acting like a whore, then I’ll treat you like one.”

He quickly grabs her by the arm and Rhaena lets out a gasp as he practically drags her into the first room he finds, ushering her in and guiding her to the bed, where he tosses her carelessly before walking to the door and shutting it behind him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I certainly did while writing it :)

I'll try to update soon, but it might take a couple of days extra since it's my birthday on thursday.

Thanks for reading!

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[daceydeath]

Cigarettes and Cliche's (Part 2)

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader Word Count: 4.2K Genre: college au, slow burn romance Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, alcohol use, suggestive content,

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to stay away you couldn't even if it might cost you everything and leave you heartbroken you couldn't ignore him

The attraction you had to Felix had gone from thinking he was stupidly good looking but an arsehole to a he might not be a total dickhead but he was at least a very attractive dickhead but there was no way you were ever going to admit that. It was still better in your opinion to ignore him as much as possible and hopefully you wouldn't have anything other to do with each other unless it was through Seung and Innie and others were around. You had apologized to the boys who were equally sorry for not really listening to you and they promised it would never happen again and to prove the fact they decided to invite some of the guys over for pre-drinks before the next party they would be heading out to on the Saturday. You were nervous about it of course, you had never been to a collage party, or any party of that sort before and you were not much of a drinker either so you hoped they wouldn't make fun of you too much. You had picked up a day shift during the week to make sure you wouldn't be called in during the weekend not wanting to disappoint Seungmin or Jeongin when them having their friends get to know you so they would all play nice was so important to them.

The weekend came a lot faster than you were prepared for and your nerves were higher than you expected, you had made friends with Jeongin and Seungmin out of necessity you needed another place to live and they were the best option so you had been forced to make it work with them but truth be told you didn't have many friends so you were often awkward without meaning to be. You had seen Felix around more than you normally would in the last week, he had come in with Hyunjin and Lee Know once and stayed for almost your whole shift not speaking to you other than ordering and asking generic questions in his cocky way but sneaking glances at you when he thought you were busy.

"You look exactly like you always do" Jeongin laughed as you walked from your room through the lounge to the kitchen.

"Am I supposed to look different?" you chuckled looking down at yourself and then over at Jeongin "I know you are going out after but I'm not, so I'm not dressing up to hang out in my own house".

"She looks cute in sweats Innie" Seungmin called down the hallway still in his room getting ready.

"Yeah I look cute Innie!" you mimicked poking your tongue out at him before realizing what had actually been said "Hold up I look cute???" you called back to Seungmin.

"You always look cute" Innie laughed as he watched you get flustered by the comments "and you are always fun to tease". You glared at him in mock annoyance pulling snacks out of the cupboard for anyone to help themselves to before sitting at the dining table and opening your laptop to waste time.

"What are you studying now?" Seung smirked looking over at you as he walked into the lounge and flopped down on the couch.

"Nothing I was just looking up a few things that I wanted to go see before the semester starts" you mumbled ignoring the pair of them as they continued to pick and tease you as they loaded up a game to play while they waited for the guys.

The buzzer from downstairs rang which you got up to answer seeing Chan and Changbin on the screen you buzzed them up and went down the hall to let them in.

"Evening" you smiled letting them past you into the apartment.

"How's it going?" Chan grinned squeezing your shoulder as he made his way towards the kitchen shopping bag full of what you assumed to be alcohol in his other hand.

"You coming with us tonight?" Changbin waggled his eyebrows at you making you snort as he held his half drunk beer up in salute.

"I'm good and of course not I could never keep us with you boys" you rolled your eyes following them towards the lounge as they both continued to speak over each other. You watched them greet each other laughing and making jokes their drinks were abandoned on the counter between the kitchen and lounge. The buzzer went again and you found yourself looking at Hyunjin's handsome face smirking at you, you were tempted to make him stay outside but you could hear Han in the background so you relented.

"Come up" you sighed giving them access to the lobby they made there way up and you were thankful Han was with them it would hopefully make the whole thing less awkward.

"Hi again Han" you greeted as he stepped through the door first.

"Hey! are the two idiots here?" He grinned stepping aside to let the others pass so you could shut the door.

"You are going to have to be far more specific Han" you replied sarcastically making him laugh loudly and you smile.

"Hi Choi" Felix smirk from behind you as soon as Hyunjin opened his mouth to speak.

"Felix" you nodded politely albeit slightly awkwardly.

"Are you not coming out with us tonight?" he continued keeping Hyunjin and Lee Know from saying anything to you.

"Have you ever seen me at a party?" you ask rhetorically stepping into the lounge room which got a little quiet as Seung and Innie watched you interact with Felix.

"She hates parties" Seung shrugged handing you a cup he had already filled with something you couldn't identify.

"I don't hate them I just don't enjoy them. At all" you defended still looking at whatever was in your cup "and what is this Seung?"

"Vodka lemonade" He smiled and you sipped it tentatively looking at him with suspicion.

"So you met Hyunjin but this is Minho" Jeongin smiled looking towards the others.

"Hello again Hyunjin, Hello Minho" you waved, sipping your drink again and scrunching your nose a little bit.

"Hello" Hyunjn purred smiling sexily at you "You really have been keeping secrets haven't you?" he looked at Seungmin and Jeongin.

"Don't even think about it" Innie huffed raising his eyebrow and making Hyunjin laugh at his instant defense of you.

"There is barely any alcohol in that you know" Seung sighed playfully ignoring Hyunjin's comment entirely and taking your drink to pour you just lemonade, you shrugged not noticing how the others were looking at you.

"I know, I just don't really drink, I don't like it" you smiled as he traded the cup for you.

"You have no life" whined Innie playfully.

"I know I'm so boring people must think I'm this helpless little virgin that can't have any fun" you teased watching both his and Seung's faces flush a brilliant pink and Chan and Changbin begin laughing "For the record the walls are thin here I will hear you talking shit about me".

"I said I was sorry about that" Innie groaned as you made your way past Hyunjin and Minho who smirked at each other before Hyunjin brushed his hand across your back as you moved making you flinch slightly and Felix glare. You were distracted as the buzzer went again and you pressed the button to see who was there surprised to see Nali appear on the screen.

"Hi I'm here to see Felix" she smiled not even looking at the camera "I'm his girlfriend".

"Nali I'm almost certain you're not but I will see if he's here" you muttered leaving her looking confused. "Hang on" said louder so she could hear you properly. Walking back from the panel the boys were all sitting on the couches or pillows on the floor chatting, playing a video game or on their phones.

"Ok, who invited Nali?" You asked loudly interrupting them and making them all turn towards you.

"Nali? who is Nali?" Innie asked.

"She says she's Felix's girlfriend but she fucked Seung last week so I'm skeptical" you rolled your eyes watching Seungmin gulp and Felix look annoyed.

"How do you even know her if she was with Seung?" Innie asked confused.

"She's the room mate that I needed to move away from because I was sick of getting kicked out of my own room for these guys to get laid" you explained dryly pointing towards Felix, Hyunjin and Minho making the already slightly confused vibe in the room to turn weirder.

"Hold on you already knew them?" Han asked "Didn't you just meet Minho tonight?".

"Officially? yes it doesn't count if he just walks past as I get tossed out does it?" you shrugged feeling both annoyed and bored as the intercom continued to buzz continuously.

"I'll get rid of her" Felix almost growled standing up and walking down the hall to see her at the door.

You went back to the kitchen as the atmosphere between the boys changed not really wanting to be a part of it you waited on the other side of the wall and watched as Felix and Nali argued, she looked angry as she yelled at him her arms gesturing wildly while he stood motionless with his back to the camera until she stormed away, you then stepped into the hall to wait for him to return there was a knock on the door that signaled Felix was back, you could hear muffled hissed conversations happening in the other room as you opened the door for him again.

"She's gone, she wont come back either" he looked at you apologetically.

"I truly didn't care to be honest what you guys do is your business" you shrugged leaving him to take his shoes off, and make your way back to your room.

"She isn't my girlfriend, I'm not with anyone" he called to you as you reached the end of the hall.

"I didn't think she was but thanks for the clarification Felix" you sighed, entering the lounge you noticed how stern Chan looked and how sheepish both Minho and Hyunjin looked "Um did I walk in when I shouldn't have?"

"No we were just talking about how Hyunjin and Minho never mentioned that they had already met you" Seung explained as Innie rolled his eyes.

"They hadn't met me per say they just stood to the right of the door as I was chucked out, we never exchanged pleasantries" you tried to joke but it fell flat.

"We didn't realize that you were Nali's roommate though" Minho spoke softly "we also didn't realize that us coming round was the reason why you had to move out".

"My grades were falling and I need to keep them up otherwise I lose my funding" you explained biting your lip. "It's not actually your fault that Nali likes to enjoy herself, she is allowed to do that, the same as you can do whoever you want it was more the whole no sleep and stuff like that".

"Kind of worked out good though" Innie grinned throwing his arm loosely around your shoulders "We never would have met and you never would have started bringing us home left over food"

"Thanks Innie" you rolled your eyes moving to sit on the arm of the sofa beside Seungmin "I'm so glad the food is what keeps me around and not my stellar wit and charm".

"Seungmin said you had fairly strict parents" Chan started looking at you softly "Do they approve of the whole living with two guys and walking home alone at night thing you have going on?"

"Nope" you laughed genuinely "They don't mind the boys, mainly because I told them they were gay, but they would prefer I lived with girls. They don't know about the job at the café, they think I work as a tutor" you explained your face heating up at the admission as Seung pushed you almost of the couch and Innie gasped dramatically

"As a tutor?" Han laughed "Why would you even want to do that?"

"Well I did to begin with but I couldn't keep it up after I needed to move, it pays almost nothing, so I got the café job so I could pay rent" you shrugged. "besides what they don't know won't kill them".

"So they are super strict then?" Changbin asked looking slightly concerned.

"Look at it this way when they found out I had my first kiss when I was 15 they sent me to my grandmother's for the summer, if I was busy on the farm then boys couldn't 'distract' me from my studies" you sighed shaking your head.

"You're kidding you were sent off for manual labor for kissing a boy?" Seungmin laughed making you glare at him while the others looked between themselves.

"I didn't get any say in it he just grabbed me and kissed me, I didn't even like the jerk" you pouted making Jeongin laugh too.

"You are actually hopeless" Seungmin started laughing even harder both of you missing the look Felix had on his face.

"Turns out maybe I should have stayed with Nali, she at least offered to help me get laid you two just eat me food at laugh at me" You huffed in fake annoyance moving from the sofa Seungmin was on the perch on the arm next to Chan.

"That was cold" Hyunjin laughed making you shrug.

"Aww we can get you laid" Innie laughed "we have a few friends worth your time like....."

"Yeah please don't, I've seen the girls you bring home and I'm good" you interrupted "besides the last thing I need is for my parent's to think I'm seeing anyone that would end badly" you blinked furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

"What do you mean?" Han asked gently.

"If my parents found out that I was even casually hooking up I would be pulled out of school" you admitted quietly "The rules for my education are pretty clear cut, if I study and do well I get rewarded by being able to attend this university, If I get distracted or start dating even if it doesn't effect my grades my funding will be pulled and I will have to return to my home town".

"That's pretty harsh" Chan cautiously added.

"Yeah but I really down want to got back all I ever wanted was to get out and now I have I wont jeopardize that" you smiled "But enough about me I have no life after all".

"Yes you do" Innie protested.

"You literally said I have no life not like five minutes ago" you laughed getting up and crossing the lounge to your own bedroom door "try not to get in any fights Seung and Innie I'm not holding your hair while you puke, have fun".

Closing your bedroom door you sighed leaning against it feeling overwhelmed, Felix had tried to be nice to you but after Nali showed up the reality of what he was like crashed over you like a bucket of ice water, Hyunjin and Minho were obviously just trying their luck to annoy your room mates and although all of Seung and Innie's friends were attractive and seemed so kind you didn't want to get to involved, you didn't want the hurt that would inevitably come with the unrequited feelings and being ditched when they got into serious relationships.

"Why the fuck would you touch her like that?" Felix spat making you jump slightly from where you were leaning.

"Felix, do you know how you look at her? like those party girls look at you all big eyed and hopeless" Minho laughed louder than he probably meant to as you could hear other laughter.

"Man you are fucking whipped, is it this one of those weird she doesn't want me I have to have her things?" Hyunjin asked sniggering

"Fuck off both of you" Felix groaned and you could almost imagine him looking at the ceiling as they laughed at him "Is it totally impossible that I just want to be friends with her?".

"Not totally impossible but implausible" Han answered back quickly.

"If it's just friends that's fine but you try anything with her and it's us having to pick up the pieces if she gets hurt" Seung said seriously his voice low.

"Seung, man I'm not going to hurt her I just find her interesting, she has not interest in any of us which is actually nice for a change" Felix seemed to be able to talk his way out of everything since they all got up to leave for the party that was happening on the other side of campus.

After they had been gone for a little while and you were sure they were not coming back you ventured out of your room to clean up, collecting the plastic cups and bags of chips that had been left behind and putting the extra beer in the fridge. You hoped that this was enough to sate Seungmin and Jeongin's need to include you so that you could go back to being just the girl who happened to live with them that they could all speak to in passing and nothing more but you knew it would never be that simple. It was however playing on your brain how much Felix had insisted that he wasn't with Nali, how she wouldn't return and that he was single. Part of you was thrilled that he wanted you to know those things but the other more logical side of you knew it was so he didn't look like a total wanker for sending her away. Typical fuck boy. The hours ticked by and you had watched a couple of episodes of a drama you were trying to catch up on and planning out your weeks study schedule around your work shifts so you felt like you had achieved something at least before you stretched, yawned and decided to get ready for bed.

You woke to what you sounded like someone had broken in, bumping and doors opening and closing, you sat bolt upright and reached behind your beside table to pull out the bat you had kept near you bed since you were a kid preparing yourself in case your door opened. Light spilled under your door making you swallow hard that they had obviously made there way further into the apartment listening harder you got out of bed and stood behind the door so at least if anyone came into your room you could smack them one, until you heard what you knew was Jeongin's voice sounding strange. Not thinking you opened your door bat poised to attack the first person you needed to, to defend Jeongin even if it meant giving away that you were in the apartment. You almost took a very drunk Han's head off as you swung at the first moving target missing him only when you raised your arms to make the bat go much higher.

"Woah what just happened" Han slurred yelping belatedly as he and the others spun towards you.

"Why have you got a bat?" Changbin hiccuped scratching his head and swaying a little his eyes only half focused.

"Why does the bat have a fluffy sock on it?" Chan cackled still sitting on the floor where he was arranging the couch cushions into a makeshift mattress.

"You ok?" Felix asked a look of confused concern flashing across his face.

"I thought you were fucking breaking into my house" you half heartedly snapped frowning at them as Seungmin came into the room holding an arm full of blankets and stuff.

"Oh shit they were not meant to wake you" he sighed you could tell that he was only tipsy where as Jeongin who was following him and walked straight into him was very much drunk.

"Next time just tell me there are going to be drunk boys in my house so I don't think we're getting robbed" You groaned feeling both flustered and annoyed to be standing there in front of all of them with sleep mussed hair and your pajamas.

"The sock is fluffy?" Changbin asked only just having caught up with the conversation.

"Yeah, in case anyone grabs the bat from me I have a whole second swing to cave their head in" you snapped before retreating back to your room your heart was still going a million miles an hour. As you put your bat back and got back into bed, you could still hear them mumbling and eventually go silent as you tried to get comfortable and go back to sleep.

Eventually you thought you could probably sneak out and get some water since you couldn't hear anything outside an occasional snore, but instead there was a very quiet knock on your door, not wanting to get dragged into any sort of drunk bullshit you stayed silent knowing they would give up. Surprising you however your door opened slowly and Felix crept in, his blonde hair shining in the low light from the window making it obvious that it could only be him, he closed the door behind him silently and settled himself on the floor sitting against your bed sighing softly and laying his head back against your mattress.

"I know you are already asleep and I know you didn't invite me into your room" he whispered "But I was worried that we had scared you too much for you to be able to sleep properly, so I'm going to stay just here and keep you safe. But don't worry I'm not drunk so nothing will happen".

You laid there just in silence just listening to his soft breathing evening out quickly as he quickly drifted off to sleep. You blinked a few time still touched by the kindness in his words when a soft snore fell from his lips you realized he was asleep and probably going to hurt his neck if he kept leaning against your bed like that. Slipping from your bed you tried to silently pad to your wardrobe to get out a spare blanket and pulled one of the pillows off your bed, slowly tipping him on to his side beside your bed you slipped the pillow beneath his head and covered him so he wouldn't be cold before you settled back into bed and drifted off to the soft sounds of his breathing and his words drifting through your mind.

When morning eventually arrived you could hear sounds coming from the kitchen, albeit it quiet sounds, you stretched and move to get up and use the bathroom only to stop in your tracks when you remembered Felix had fallen asleep beside your bed. Looking on the floor you noticed that the blanket was folded and placed on top of the pillow in the spot he had been in. Furrowing your brows you weren't sure if you were sad he was no longer there or happy that you didn't need to have an awkward conversation about why he was emerging from your room. Slipping into the shower you brushed your teeth before you got changed into something nicer than your normal sweats and hoodie which you hoped Seung or Innie wouldn't fuss about and made your way out in search of food.

"Wow you look good this morning" Seung whistled lowly trying to tease you.

"Shut up Seung I need coffee and food as a reward for being woken up in the middle of the bloody night by drunken hoodlums" you poked your tongue out at him as you wandered across the room past the still sleeping Han and Changbin. "Weren't there more of them?" you gestured with your thumb to the unconscious pair.

"Yeah Felix and Chan went out to get us breakfast for crashing here and waking you up" he explained handing you a mug of coffee.

"Thank you, remind me to thank them too" you smiled blowing on the cofee for a moment before sipping.

"I also didn't know you had a baseball bat in your room" he joked as he made a cup for himself.

"Well I need to be able to defend myself" you shrugged moving to sit at the table and wait for the others to return.

"Ow my head" you heard Han whine as he started coming around.

"I'll get you something don't move around too much" you giggled silently taking a glass of water that Seungmin had put on the bench top and some painkillers over to Han.

"Hey bedside service I could get used to that" He smiled his eyes barely open to look at you.

"Yeah I wouldn't if I was you" Felix quipped putting a couple of paper bags on the counter as Chan placed a tray off coffees next to it, Han chuckled and Changbin groaned tiredly.

"Can I get some painkillers too please?" he mumbled softly.

"Of course big guy" you grinned handing him some paracetamol and going to grab him the other glass of water "I mean it's only fair since I nearly maimed Han with a bat thinking you were robbing us".

"Hold on that did happen?" Han scratched his head look confused.

"Breakfast is ready" Seungmin interrupted making your eyes light up as you turned to watch him put your favorite pastry on a plate for you, totally missing the look of utter adoration that crossed Felix's face seeing you look so happy over such a small thing.

a/n: Another short and sweet chapter but thank you for reading and as always and comments, reblogs or live are cherished. I love the shit out of you guys xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @bakedlilgoonie, @shiy, @is2cb97, @beautifulixr, @skyhold-tara, @army-stay-noel, @skizzel-reblogs, @facelesswrittes, @animehideout

[aceri1485]

Fired (Pt. 2)

Pt 1 here!

Xiumin x Reader

key words: backstage, concert, stage hand, smut (18+, read at own risk — consensual, oral (male receiving), unprotected), fluff (does this count as fluff?), slow burn

authors note: uhh merry christmas I guess haha (1) this is purely fiction, please don’t be delusional and no I don’t think this would ever happen irl (2) protagonist (ie. the reader) gender is ambiguous on purpose, I want anyone to be able to read this and enjoy (3) I'm enjoying writing this more than I was expecting, soooo maybe part 3???

-----

"Hellooo - can you hear me?" your radio crackles from your waistband.

You stifle a yawn before grabbing your radio to reply, "Yes, I'm here! Sorry! I'm on my way."

"Oh good - thank you!" You hear the relief in Sam's voice, "Come find me when you're done!"

"Will do" you reply, then turn your attention back to the makeup artist, Jose, who had been talking your ear off for nearly 15 minutes before Sam's radio message interrupted you.

"Oh - I guess you have to go," Jose blushes, "I'm sorry, I know you must be busy, I just - nobody has really asked us what we..."

"What you need to do your job?" you finish the sentence, smiling gently at Jose, "I'm sorry if it seems like we haven't been paying attention to you before, the stage hands have been a little short staffed at the other concerts."

"No - no, that's not what I.." Jose blushed even more, "I didn't mean to imply you weren't doing your job before, I'm trying to say... I'm saying that I appreciate how hard you are working now and that I am grateful we have someone like you to support us."

You blink, surprised, and feel your own cheeks and ears getting hot. It was true - you had been working hard since Sam promoted you. That was three shows ago now, and while the team had been saying thank you, you hadn't truly felt like your extra effort had been noticed or appreciated.

Your radio crackles again, another staff member asking for Sam's approval on some other matter, bringing your attention back.

"I will do my best to get you what you need." you say to Jose, before going to run to your next task. You stop, though, and gently put your hand on Jose's, "and... thanks."

Jose locks eyes with you and smiles, "No, thank you - I'll see you later?"

You smile back, "See you later!"

Now you turn and jog down the hall, off to meet with one of the stylists for an emergency clothing shopping spree, but not before you catch sight of an achingly familiar figure passing across the hall in front of you.

Your body has an involuntary response, the blush in your cheeks deepening, but you force your mind not to wander and focus on the task at hand.

Arriving at the backstage door, you are surprised to find not only the stylist, but a manager and a tall man in a bucket hat and mask waiting for you. They greet you, smiling, as you head out the door together.

"Mr. Park - why are you coming with us?" you ask, smiling as his eyes widen in surprise, "What - you didn't think that so-called disguise is going to fool anyone, did you?" you laugh.

While it was true that you had come to know the members more and more since you had been working as a part of their core team over the past month, it was also true that anyone who had ever seen even a bad drawing of Chanyeol before would recognize him now.

"Hey, it's better than nothing!" Chanyeol shoots back as you hold the car door open for him. He slides in and you close the door, running around to get in on the other side. Luckily, the concert is still hours away, and any fans that are already lurking around are all at the entrance to the arena.

The last time one of the members had tried to join an outing like this before a concert, the police had to be called to stop fans from blocking the backstage door to let them get back inside the venue. So long as nobody knew Chanyeol was gone, nobody would be desperate enough to stake out the door to try and see him when you go back this time.

"I had to come so I can try on whatever we pick out," Chanyeol says as you buckle your seatbelts, "I didn't want to, I know how complicated it could get if someone sees me."

"Don't lie!" the stylist laughs from the front seat, "I told you I would bring back different sizes for you to try!"

"Yeah," the manager chimes in from the front seat, "I distinctly remember the conversation going something along the lines of "ahh I'm so bored, when will I ever-" hey, put that back on!" he cuts off as Chanyeol throws his bucket hat at him, "and be careful, I'm driving!"

Any tension the team had about a last minute outing melts away as you laugh, and the conversation turns to finding a good place to pick up coffee near the store the stylist wants to go to. As Chanyeol and the manager debate whether the members need coffee before a show, you pull out your phone to message Sam that you are on your way.

Distracted for a few minutes as you message back and forth with various team members, each putting in coffee requests or asking you to grab this or that, your attention gets pulled back to the conversation when you hear Xiumin's name.

Looking up, you see that Chanyeol was watching you. He smiles at you, too knowingly, and says "Sam would know, I think Xiumin told her after the last show."

"What was that?" you ask, trying to keep your expression clear, and looking anywhere but Chanyeol's face.

"Did he say something about his shoes being too big last show?" the stylist asked, not noticing - or pretending not to notice - the large grin on Chanyeol's face as he looked at you.

"Oh, no - the shoes fit fine," you say, "they needed new laces, the old ones were frayed and so they weren't staying tied" you explain, looking out the window in what you hoped was a non-chalant manner.

"Lets add laces to the list then," the stylist adds, "How could I have missed that? You're a life saver, thank you!"

"Don't mention it," you say, "And I already picked up some extra laces.. and changed out the old ones in Xiumin's shoes."

"When did you have time to do that?" the stylist turns to look at you.

"Oh, I... stayed late after the last show." you mumble, refusing to look at anyone in the car.

The stylist smiles, "You work way too hard, you know that?" laughing as they turn back in their seat, "I hope you know we all appreciate it!"

You're grateful that you can blame your blush on receiving your second compliment of the day rather than the thoughts of why you had really stayed so late after the last show.

It was the first time you and Xiumin had been able to be truly alone since... well, since that first night.

"Are you cold?" he asks, the corners of his eyes creased with concern, "Here, put this on."

He pulls off his jean jacket to wrap around your shoulders. The streetlight casts shadows of your sillouettes infront of you as you walk- a shadow couple, picture perfect, other worldly. You smile in thanks, pulling the jacket closer around you. It had to be nearly 3am already, the two of you had stayed at the arena talking for hours after the everyone else had left.

Your arms brush together as you walk, Xiumin's hands shoved into his pockets, a blush forming on his cheeks where his face is visible behind his black facemask, matching the pink tinge of your ears. Your shadows bump into eachother, at times overlapping, rarely a gap between them.

You both realize the hotel is less than half a block away at the same time and it's like you're suddenly walking in molasses. Your shadows crawl along the sidewalk ahead of you, shrinking into one another then growing full again as you pass between one streetlight to another.

At the door of the hotel, you both stop, not making eye contact with each other.

"Do you want-"

"Maybe another-"

You start speaking at the same time, turning to look at each other, breaking off just as quickly and turning away again, flushing.

"You f-"

"What did yo-"

And the tension breaks, both of you laughing.

"You go" you say, marvelling at the way the light streaming out from the hotel windows makes his eyes sparkle. You longed to pull off his mask so you could see how the light would catch on the rest of his face, with its simultaneously sharp angles and soft edges.

He won't look at you, instead staring at your shoes, but his hands come up and hold your elbows, "Maybe another... another lap around the block?" he asks.

You stop yourself from sighing in relief, anything to make the night last longer, just another few minutes-

You're pulled away from your thoughts by Chanyeol waving his hand in front of your face “Helloooo?"

You’ve arrived at a small shopping area and the manager is bragging about his great parking job.

"Oh, sorry," you smile, "I was just trying to - uh - remember everyone's coffee orders."

The stylist and manager hurry to usher Chanyeol into a store across the street, leaving you to actually try and remember everyone's coffee orders, entering a small cafe. It isn't busy, thankfully, but you apologize to the barista for the number of drinks you order nonetheless.

"Two iced americanos, 4 hot americanos, one vanilla latte..." you prattle off almost a dozen drinks and pay, "Sorry again - is it just you working today?"

"Yes, just me, but don't apologize!" the barista smiles at you, "I love a bit of a challenge."

"How so?" You ask, making small talk as they start working on the drinks.

"Oh, I love to see if I can pull double shots, or pour milk with one hand while steaming another round" the barista laughs, "like rubbing my head and patting my stomach... or is it the other way around?"

Both laughing, you keep chatting, realizing you have a similar taste in music when the song playing in the cafe changes, comparing your favourite types of teas and the best place to go for kimbap in the neighbourhood.

The barista smiles shyly, tucking their hair behind their ear, as you watch them work on the last drink, "Could I maybe get your..."

They trail off as Chanyeol bursts through the door, a whirlwind of energy not at all contained by his large frame, the manager close behind him.

"Almost ready?" the manager asks you and you nod, greeting them both before turning back to the barista.

"What were you saying?" you ask as they slide the last drink to you over the counter.

"Oh, its nothing!" they look flustered, clearly recognizing Chanyeol, who is now waiting by the register to order, "But - uh - if you're ever in the neighbourhood again, you should stop by. I'll make you one on the house," they say, recovering a bit and turning their attention back to you.

"Oh, I-" you break off as Chanyeol pointedly clears his throat and looks at his watch. The barista nods to you and hurries back over to the register to take Chanyeol's order.

Sighing, you slump into a seat across from the manager, the drinks you ordered filling the table in front of you. It turns out that Chanyeol had been accepting orders from the members while you were collecting orders for the staff and so the barista gets to work preparing another 9 drinks.

“We’d better hurry back after this,” the manager says, anxious, “Of course the big oaf gets recognized...”

-----

There are still 3 hours to showtime after you finish distributing coffee to the other stage hands, but there is still a never ending list of tasks waiting for you all before the show can start.

The crew and dancers walk through an entire sound and lighting check, one of the stylists has to be taken to the hospital for stitches after a mishap with a sewing needle, and Sehun’s earpiece has gone missing.

That’s how you find yourself in a back closet the crew was using as temporary storage, surrounded by boxes full of extra props and pieces of audio equipment. Your back to the door, bent at the waist to dig in the bottom of a particularly large box, you hear rather than see someone enter the closet behind you, just as-

“YES! It’s here!” You say triumphantly, shooting your hand into the air, clutching the small box containing Sehun’s earpiece.

Sighing in relief that there was at least one problem solved, you freeze when you hear the reply from behind you.

“What did you find?” Chanyeol says.

You turn around in an instant, surprise clear on your face, “Chan- I mean, Mr. Park? Sorry, I though you were Sam.”

He smiles and holds up his hands, “Just me - sorry to disappoint.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask, slightly anxious, “Did something else happen?”

“Something else?” He asks, confused, “Is there a problem?”

You bite your lip, cursing to yourself that you forgot how the staff tried their best to hide small issues from the members before the shows so they could focus on getting ready.

Forcing a smile, you say and hold up the box again, “No, not anymore - we’re good! What do you need?”

“Oh, I was.. I was hoping to talk to you actually” he says, trying to catch your eye to gauge your response.

Oh god, not now! You think to yourself, I don’t have time for this right now - actually, I don’t have time for this ever, I can’t loose this job!

“If this is.. what I think it is, then..” you take a deep breath and meet his gaze, “it’s not what it-“

“Looks like?” he finishes your sentence for you, giving you a hard look.

You set your jaw.

Chanyeol sighs, his shoulders relaxing, breaking eye contact and half turning away, “That’s too bad then. Because it looks like Xiumin is happier than I’ve seen him in years.”

Your jaw falls open.

Chanyeol turns to leave, then pauses with his hand on the closet door. “I just wanted to say..” he looks back at you over his shoulder, “He’s serious about you, about continuing whatever this “doesn’t look like” after the tour, and I hope.. I hope you don’t hurt him. I saw the way you were with that barista, and don’t pretend you don’t see how Jose looks at you.”

The elevator dings, but neither of you move to get off it. Instead, you both stand at the door, looking out down to the end of the hall.

The door slides shut, and you didn’t get off.

“I’ll just.. take you up to your room first.” You say, looking down at your shoes, hands clutching the hem Xiumin’s jean jacket still draped over your shoulders.

“Okay.. thanks.” He says, voice low. The elevator continues up, and his hand finds yours, pulling your grip from his jacket to intertwine your fingers.

The elevator dings again, but still neither of you move to get off, until the door starts to slide shut again. Xiumin puts out a hand to stop it, his other still holding yours.

Holding the door open, he steps off, but as you go to draw your hand away, he holds on even tighter, pulling you off the elevator with him.

“Xiumin...” you whisper, fully aware that the other members and the managers are staying on this floor as well, digging in your heels a bit to stop him from pulling you further down the hall as the elevator doors slide shut behind you.

He stops, but doesn’t look back at you. Instead, you feel his hand squeeze yours, and he whispers back “…please”.

You couldn’t have stood there more than 30 seconds after Chanyeol left but it felt more like a whole day before you shook it off. Gathering yourself again to the task at hand, you try not to think about how Chanyeol’s voice broke, “I hope you don’t hurt him.”

Radioing ahead to let Sam know you found Sehun’s earpiece, you practically sprint out of the closet.

Handing over the box to one of the managers, you remember the items Jose had asked you for earlier in the day and go to collect what you can.

It’s an hour to the show by the time you’re able to stop by the dressing room and check in with Jose after being sidetracked by different problems and tasks. You knock and enter the the dressing room after hearing Jose yell “Come in!”

You push open the door, balancing a small box full of different things Jose had asked for - a fresh lightbulb for the mirror, a new package of makeup wipes, spray bottle with water - and enter the room.

You quickly scan the room, taking in the manager sitting on the couch engaged in a phone call, Baekhyun holding up two shirts in front of a mirror while two stylists argue over which colour to go for and Chen sitting in front of the makeup mirrors while another stylist attacked his hair with a brush and gel.

But your heart doesn’t jump up into your throat until your eyes land on the one man you were hoping to find here. He’s sitting in front of the makeup mirror beside Chen, eyes closed as Jose attempts to dab some slightly glittery eye shadow on him without getting glitter everywhere else.

“Oh my GOD, you’re the best!” Jose says, seeing what you’re carrying, and Xiumin opens his eyes, “Xiumin, don’t you agree?” Jose grabs the box from you to push onto the counter infront of Xiumin, “I asked for all this this morning, I can’t believe you remembered everything!”

Looking at you in the mirror, Xiumin smiles “Yes.. you’re the best” he says quietly.

The subtext is thankfully lost on Jose who playfully smacks him on the arm, “I asked if you agreed but I did not say that you could open your eyes!”

You and Jose chat for a bit, Jose fluttering around Xiumin and Chen, finishing both of their makeup, while Chen and Xiumin start their own conversation. Baekhyun joins in a third chair, the stylists finally having come to a compromise and finding a completely different third shirt for him to wear.

Sounds of the crowd filing into the arena filter in, growing louder as the time passes. Down the hall, you hear the staff laughing in the common area, many of them trying to eat a quick dinner before the show starts.

Soon Sam checks in with you over your radio and you go to pop your head into the other dressing rooms, giving the 15 minute warning and checking that nobody needs anything last minute.

Another stage hand comes by to usher the members to the stage. You follow behind them in the hallway, trying to stay out of the way of dancers rushing to get to the stage and makeup artists trying to apply last minute touch ups to the members.

In the chaos, you find yourself beside Xiumin for a couple of seconds, just long enough for him to look at you and smile, your hands to brush and a wave of goose bumps to rush down your spine. With his makeup done, contacts in and his shirt unbuttoned like that, he is breathtakingly beautiful. Then he’s gone, carried forward by the wave of commotion heading toward the stage, toward the rising sound of cheers - no, screams - and the swell of the music.

You gasp, finally coming up for air, the rise and fall of your breath matching his, like two people who were underwater for too long. He meets your eyes, a low moan falling from his lips.

“Please, baby” he breathes out, “Please keep going.”

You blow cool air on his cock, moving your hand up and down, tantalizingly slow, enjoying the way his hips squirm as he tries to increase the friction and the way the storm in his eyes builds. One of his hands brushes your hair away from your eyes, gently. But the other grasps the sheets of the bed, muscles in his forearms taught and the veins in his hand jumping up, like he’s holding back the ocean with one hand.

You place your hand over his, releasing his grip on the sheets and intertwining your fingers at the same time as you lower your mouth back around his cock. He can’t hold back the loud gasp, or help the way his hips buck. The hand that one second ago was so tenderly brushing back your hair now pushes your head down.

Saliva fills your mouth as you try not to gag, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can with each push down of his hand. His fingers tangle in your hair as he guides you. You suck and swirl your tongue, glancing up at him every now and then. He can’t look away from you, he’s transfixed. It fuels your own arousal, and you move one hand down to touch yourself. Your other hand is still holding his, two drowning people clasping onto each other like a lifeline.

“Shit, I’m-“ he says, hips bucking again, “Fuck, don’t stop..”

Your name, mixed in with a string of curse words, falls from his mouth as he gasps for air, his voice deep and breathy at the same time. His hand leaves your hair, flying up behind him to hold on to the headboard. You pick up the pace, abandoning your own pleasure to pump him with your hand lower down his shaft while your use your mouth at his tip.

The wave crashes down and with low yell he releases. You swallow, continuing to work him until he gasps and pulls your head away. Then he pulls you up into a deep, long kiss, and you sigh, relaxing into it, relaxing into him. When you break apart, you pull the cover up over you both and rest your head on his shoulder. He kisses you on the forehead, mumbling something about the time and his alarm going off in a couple hours. Holding each other close, your breathing deep and again in sync, you fall asleep. Faint sunlight breaks through the crack in the curtain at the foot of the bed.

An hour later, the sunlight wakes you up, hitting you in the face. Now strong and bright, it had crept up the bed until it hit you square in the eye. Xiumin still sleeps beside you, his hair falling across his forehead, relaxed and blissfully protected from the sun.

A few moments later, you are closing the door as quietly as possible behind you, dressed but holding your shoes in your hands, ready to tiptoe to the elevator. The door closes and you turn, freezing in place, eyes locked on Chanyeol standing in an open doorway across the hall.

END (P3 maybe?)

[terribles-world]

The clash: 03

Main protagonist: jk x reader

Genre: slow burn, angst

Warnings: self-harm, usage of drugs, degradation, forceful intercourse.

Summary: Too immersed in the haunting pain of your nightmare, you invited your colleague to accompany you for a night. Will it turn out to be good or just another destruction in your life.

Word count: 2k

an: here is part 3 of 'the clash'. Hope you guys like my blog. I'm sorry for any grammatical errors or if anyone finds it uncomfortable to read. It's just I'm new to this platform and promise to improve myself further. Enjoy!

"Pardon. Do I know you" looking at the person who bumped into you a sec ago. "Of course not but maybe I want to know you more." he smirked saying the words to you. "By the way it's Yeonjun." forwarding his hand for a quick hand shake. "Oh it's ___!" "Up for a drink?" Looking back at the corner you see three girls throwing themselves on Jungkook's body made you think why can't you least enjoy a good drink with your new friend. Friends? Is it the appropriate world to be used.

"You look so innocent lying helplessly in the ground waiting for me to fuck you. Huh? Pretty little slut." As soon as he said those words your blurry eyes tried to find the face of the person. What you see is just a puzzled face, tall figure, broad shoulders. "P--Please let m-me go, I b-beg you." you pleaded clearly not in your right senses maybe the drink you took has much more effect of Hashish than alcohol. "Shh! Calm down lady I'm gonna fuck you fast and rough. Okay! nobody's gonna know. But in case if you are a virgin then umm-uhh" tears started rolling down your eyes. How did you even end up in this situation? "Let's start with your tits first." With that he tore your crop top left you with only bra. "P-please let m-me go. I b-beg you" your throat became dry with all the pleading but he didn't even care to listen to it even for the sake of humanity. Slowly losing your senses you tried not to close your eyes just to remember the moment of you being raped. He slid your jeans below your ankles then on the ground. Again the world throws you in another helpless situation. Dreaming of a man loving you, see the world in two eyes giving your everything to him, making love to him but this moment is nothing but left with a trauma in your life. Hearing the skin slapping sound, your hands tied in a belt above your head, the person thrusting in you mercilessly dropping his head in your bosom. You can't do anything but to cry only to regret what would have happened if you wouldn't have come here. That definitely would have saved you from losing your virginity, your dignity and yourself to some rapist.

Tears slowly flowing from your eyes waking up with a jerk. Same nightmare. Sleep is nowhere to be found. Sitting up you checked the time. It's 2:30 in the night. What you gonna do now. Maybe a quick shower could make you fall asleep. You undress yourself. Feeling pity looking at your thighs and you made it worse by cutting it with a blade few years just to erase the dark memories of that night. In the hope if it could be possible. Burnt marks on your side stomach made you think what an improvident act you did 5 years ago. Hatred comes looking at your own pathetic self which made you vigorously scratching yourself just to remove the imprints of the man who broke you. Coming out of the bathroom, opening your phone for doing a quick check on your Instagram scroll. And wow! Jungkook added a story with Yuna in a romantic date. Another phase of cries entered your system.

Looking at the couples in their seat of the coffee shop made you think the moment when you prayed and Jesus! You just wanted to have a normal life. No hurdles, no pain, just happiness and love. Isn't that everyone in here asks for? Maybe this is too much. Remembering all those moments when you were a teenager who thought your friendship with jungkook will someday be level up and termed as an official relationship. Alas! Shaking your extra dramatic unrealistic parallel thoughts get busy in serving customers.

"You're done?" taehyung asked leaning on the fridge. "Yeah! Not liking my presence?" Not even paying attention to the man who is busy noticing your face. "No just asking if you would like to eat out?" he proposed. Remembering you don't have any staple food for your supper then why not have dinner with a companion. At least you won't have to eat alone. Agreed on his proposal. "Okay! But only If you're paying." you grinned. "It's an honour ___" bowing down like a prince following by a laugh. However it makes you feel content to work here. More like distracting yourself from the terrible destruction that has been done inside your head.

Taking your seat in front of Taehyung, as he offered you to order dinner. Just about to order your sight fell on the couple at the very next counter of yours. Jeon Jungkook and Lee Yuna. The fuck! Can't they go somewhere else. Not wasting any time you decided to ignore them and order your food. The slightest joy you felt having a company has long gone now. The main purpose is only to eat the food as fast as you can and leave before anyone's notice. But guess what. Miss Yuna can't keep her shoes off of you. "___! What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?" she asked standing right next to you beside jungkook. Doesn't that punch affect her a bit. "More like eating dinner." you retorted slightly glancing at Yuna. Just then your anger boils when taehyung invited them to join us. Why on Earth does he want them to join you both? "Oh it's okay but only if you insist." Just then she grabbed the seat beside taehyung and your formal best friend sat beside you. You didn't even dare to look at his face. "So tell me you two now are a thing now?" You choked on the water from the words Yuna uttered just now. "No but ___ is a nice girl." tae replied looking at you. "So you are hitting on her in front of us." Yuna asked. "Not it's just we are goo-" you cut him up "he is my boyfriend." "What?" All three of them asked. Quickly grabbing tae's hand you answered "you don't need to hide our relationship to anyone Jagiya! Not to them" The look on taehyung's face was so apparent as if Jin snatched all his ice creams. With that your food has come to your table. Eating a lot more faster than you used to just to get rid of the two non existent strangers. And you are done. "Baby I will wait for you outside. Okay!" Kissing tae's cheeks you stood up. "Excuse me, if you would stand up I would like to go outside." Jungkook stand up with a close proximity which was your god damn weakness. "Sure." And you are out.

Puffing up a cigarette you looked at the street with people enjoying street food, couples roaming with hand-in-hand, vehicles moving alongside, it's peaceful. "Since when did you start smoking?"knowing the owner of the voice. "since when do you care" you stated without deviating your eyes from the street. "How long are you both dating?" he sat beside you looking at the couple who were enjoying the food. "Is any of that related to you?" you asked. "Not entirely. Cause taehyung is still my friend." Woah! So it's not even an indirect taunt. Slipping out the facts that you aren't friends with him. "Why don't you ask my boyfriend about it besides I need to have a quick look for him. Who knows slutty bitches are roaming tryin' snatch my love." Then you look at him. The same doe eyes which makes your heart beat so fast. It became so painful not because you both aren't friends instead there was a moment when you both couldn't live without each other. You advert your eyes. Standing up going inside the restaurant and wow the sight is so mesmerizing. Our dear selfless Yuna trying to clean Tteok-bokki stain from tae's chest. Quickly moving towards them you decided to interrupt the cute little moment. "Tae baby! what happened?" you cringed at yourself calling him baby. "It's nothing ___ Yuna's slipped." Slipped? Or intentionally made them slip? Knowing all her tactics. "It's okay! cover it with your jacket I'll wash it in our home." Our home? Just then jungkook was standing behind you. "Let's go then. Thank you for joining us Yuna and Jungkook." he politely said. "The pleasure is all ours." Jungkook proclaimed being a gentleman. Walking out with tae, he was so shocked, he couldn't be able to resist and asked the blunder going on in his head, "What was that all about?" Taking a quick glance you focussed on the road not knowing how to make an excuse about that. "it's just I don't know what came into my mind. I just blurted it out." panic was written in your face. "It's okay. But is everything okay between you and jungkook." he asked. How to answer that terrifying question now? "We are not friends anymore." couldn't be able to make eye contact. He quickly grabbing your hand "hey ___! Look at me. Shh! is this the reason you were so dull these past few days. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you." Pulling you into a quick hug. You nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck. Peace. It's the perfect word which you are feeling rn. He kissed your hair and damn that cologne. Sniffing him more, tears started rolling from his eyes. "Umm ___." you heard an unfamiliar sound. Is that jungkook? Looking at your side and he is standing next to you. "You left your purse at the restaurant." "Thanks!" Taking the purse you look at him. And what? Is that tears in his eyes? Too focused on him, tae gently grab your palm intervening your fingers with his. "It's time to go home, honey!" Coming back to reality. Without even saying goodbye you both started to walk off.

On the way to your house he asked, "Are you okay!" Turning your face a little you replied, "would you like to sleep with me for tonight." Not being able to get a proper sleep cause the nightmares were too disturbing and haunting you for almost every night. He panicked. "It's jus-" cutting him off. "not the way you are thinking. I couldn't be able to have a proper sleep at night. So you could like company me only for tonight" you asked being ready for the denial. "Fine." He smiled.

Opening the door you invited him in, he insisted on sleeping on the couch while you take the bed and you agreed on it. Slowly drifting towards the sleep you feel relaxed."You look so innocent lying helplessly in the ground waiting for me to fuck you. Huh? Pretty little slut." "no, No, NO" you panicked. "___ hey I'm right here okay shhh shhh!" Tears are coming out of you. Your nerves calm down hearing his deep voice. This small act of his made you feel a little brave in sleep. Hugging the person tightly you slept peacefully. Waking up you look at the time. It's 6:39. Did you sleep that long? Turning your face you saw the beautiful man sleeping beside you. Too engrossed in noticing the facial features you didn't feel his hands on your breast and smooching it. Not knowing what to do just then something poked your thighs touching it was the biggest mistake you made. "Ahhh!" taehyung groaned in your ears. Just then you knew the thing you are holding isn't a thing but something else. Not knowing what to do, you closed your eyes. Shit! He is waking up. Coming to his senses, he immediately pulled back his hand panicking about his current situation. Placing a quick kiss on your temple he moved in to the bathroom. Hearing the lock sound of the door, you opened your eyes. What's this feeling? Homely? Or just another way towards your destruction.

So this is the end of The clash part- 03. Do let me know your pov reading this story. And keep supporting. :)

Happy reading!

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Poor Keef

I'm so mean to my baby Keef. I'm very sorry. (Keef deserves better.)

Frick canon. I'm writing a thingy that does not follow the course of canon whatsoever, deal with it. (I say that with love. <3)

If feel like I do this exact thing a whole lot.

Oh yeah! Trigger warning, character death, self-doubt/insecurity (like lack of self worth), self-sacrifice, flashbacks (not the good kind), blood. KEEP YOURSELF SAFE PLEASE!!!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

To his left, Keith sees a starburst explosion bloom out from the side of the blue lion, which flies not far from his own red one. He grits his teeth to keep himself from screaming Lance's name every time he sees the larger lion shudder at the impact of oncoming firing from the Galra.

It's been 2 years. Only 2 years? Keith is surprised by the amount of time that has passed, it feels like a long, blissful lifetime that he's been fighting evil purple cat-people alongside his space family. His only family, really.

And now they're here. Only a couple short years into this war that they stumbled into, and they're about to defeat Zarkon. The blades have already taken down Haggar and the druids that seem to pop up at the absolute worst times. Zarkon is their last target.

They have a whole plan.

And for once, Keith will stick to the plan. He puts the team in jeopardy far too often with his reckless tendencies.

The next impact forces a startled grunt out of him, and he sees nothing but Galra cruisers everywhere.

His team is surrounded, all fighting for their lives at this point.

We're not going to win this. We might not even make it out of this alive.

Keith wants to sob. To yell, to speak his mind, to curse these goddamn aliens for not being able to fight their own wars.

His hands shake as he clutches at Red's controls desperately. He grips tighter and tighter until he sees his knuckles turn white, until he sees his pale skin tear at the soft parts between his fingers like his skin is nothing but paper, until little red rivers crawl down his hands and soak slowly into his undersuit.

Red nudges at the back of his mind to let go, telling him that he's hurting, that he needs to come back.

He's thrown into the past the second he finally closes his fear-stricken eyes.

There's a large, warm hand wrapped around his. "Keith. Keith, bud, are you listening? That building- do you see it? Yeah, good. It's burning and there's a lady in it. I- I'll be back, okay?" Small, trembling Keith watches his father sprint off into the fire. Because that's his job, isn't it? He's a hero. But to be a hero, you have to give up a whole lot. For the first time in his life, Keith sees past the rose-colored glasses that he's been peering through his whole life. His dad, the one that buys him ice cream every Monday after school, the one that drives him far out into the desert just to point up at the sky and say, "See? The sky will always be the same. It'll always be here for you, bud," the one who likes to laugh while he watches horror movies with a far-too-young Keith, the one who tells Keith to, "Stop. Open your eyes, Keith," even when they're already wide open, is now running straight into a flaming building. And Keith finally opens his eyes. Wide open. His dad will never choose Keith, he never has. He just keeps running into every building he sees, never stopping to think about the small child who needs him more than anyone else. But if you keep looking for flames, you're bound to get burnt.

Keith's breathing slows. He opens his eyes to look around. There. Zarkon. He's standing atop the biggest cruiser, watching Voltron getting pulverized by his troops with an almost smile on his face.

Keith really was going to follow the plan this time. Or, at least the most important part of it: take down Zarkon.

He remembers the briefing that took place before all of this. Allura's voice plays out in his head. "Zarkon is using extra power to supercharge his fleets for this battle. We destroy his main cruiser, and we destroy the empire."

Keith turns on his comms.

"Guys. Stop fighting. You're only getting yourselves hurt more."

He hears the others protest weakly, but they know a lost battle when they see one, too.

"I got this, retreat to the castle."

Shiro yells out his name. "I know what you're thinking. Keith, don't do it! Regroup with us, we can end this some other way."

"Not without more lives lost. I-I want to say thanks. To.. all of you. For giving me a family, and for accepting me. I really do love you. All of you."

And with that, he pushes the accelerator all the way forward. So far forward, in fact, that the lever snaps off.

Going out as a hero.

Red. Red surrounds him, then orange and yellow, and then the sound comes back to his ears even though he never noticed it leave.

He hears his friends begging him to stop, the growing whoosh of flames enveloping the lion, and the sound of his own nail digging into the fabric of his chair.

And then it's all gone.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Hmmm. I don't like this one as much as my other 'Keith is angsty' things that I write. Oh, well.

If you can't deal with angst, alt ending: the team finds red partially intact, they get Keith's body, and are able to save him. And he loses a limb. Or or or, he goes blind in one eye. Or both!

Alt, alt ending, they get his body but can't save him. Lance never falls in love again. : ) (I'm not normal.)

[maybege]

... Stays In Quantico - FBI Part 2

Summary: Back in Quantico, you are reminded just how difficult your situation is. (Part 2 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

Here we are! I am so excited to finally start sharing this story with you. Having binged through all 15 seasons, I just want to say now that (1) this story will be canon-divergent and (2) it will be a slow burn. It is my first longer story about Hotch and I hope I will do his character justice. As always, you can find the posting schedule linked in my masterlist.

Have fun reading and let me know what you think.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“I don’t know what to think.”

“This is not the kind of job where you don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe from someone who just told me she doesn’t know what to think.”

You shifted in your seat. The office you were in was colder than the bullpen of the BAU and you wished you had remembered to bring your cardigan with you. Now all you were wearing was your short-sleeved dress and heels.

To be fair, you had presumed this would just be a standard meeting with the in-house therapist. After the incident in Kansas City, it seemed like standard procedure and you were glad to have been offered this opportunity.

Now though, sitting in the way too soft armchair with the brunette older woman looking at you over her glasses, this felt more like an evaluation than anything else. And you absolutely hated it.

You looked at the still-life of a fruit bowl on the right wall, right next to a bookshelf full of framed certificates. A woman who was proud of her accomplishments.

The first and last time you had had an evaluation was when you had first started working at the FBI and back then you had been sure that you had failed it. You had been sure you had failed all of it.

Your grandmother always used to say that if you looked for flaws long enough you would find them.

Dr Johnson looked like she spent her life looking for flaws.

“Tell me again why you chose to work for the FBI – and the BAU specifically.”

You would not make it anyway. Fuck it.

“There is so much hurt in the world,” you started, watching her eyebrows rise over the frames of her glasses, “I would feel better knowing I am trying to do something against it. And as for the BAU,” you shrugged, “Chief Sector Strauss approached me about it and I thought I would be stupid not to take the opportunity.”

She hummed, looking down at her file. “You don’t have any official FBI training.”

“No.”

“Any formal police training?”

“No.”

“Gun training?”

You hid your smile at the thought of the recent debacle for the gun qualification.

“I took down an UnSub in Kansas City last week,” you reminded her, “That is why I am here.”

She did not react to it. “In fact,” she leafed through the papers in her hand, “You only recently finished college. How did that go for you?”

“Good,” you nodded, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, “It was good.”

“What did you major in?”

“English,” you replied and when you saw her raised eyebrow, tried to elaborate, “Um, English literature to be exact and I have a minor in law as well.”

“Why only a minor?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why did you only minor in law? Were you not good enough?”

To cover the unease from her question, you crossed your legs. “I had no interest in law,” you answered truthfully, “My passion was and is with literature.”

The full truth was, you simply did not like law students. That and the pressure they were under was, you were convinced, what brought many lawyers to an early grave. But she did not need to know that about you.

Ironic that you had ended up in the BAU after all this.

Totally not stressful.

She said your name, then, slowly, and leant forward. You tensed, knowing that look too well. Was this the moment she would tell you that you had failed the valuation? The moment Hotch would come into the office and hand you your resignation with that disappointed look in his eyes.

Maybe the way Kansas City had ended was just a way to disguise the true going-ons of your work here in Quantico?

“You have been here, what, seven months now, Agent?”

“Yes, eight months, coming February,” you replied, meeting her gaze and swallowing the dryness of your throat.

“Would you say you have adjusted to your life here in Virginia?”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dr Johnson made a vague gesture as if encompassing everything and anything, “Do you have friends here? Family? How do you get on with your colleagues?”

Well, you certainly had not been expecting this kind of question.

“I live together with a friend,” you answered slowly, “My family lives in Idaho.”

“Idaho,” Johnson smiled, “A long way from home, no?”

“Yes.”

“Look, Agent, I am not going to lie,” she sighed, putting her pen down on the notepad, “I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.”

You’re not the only one, you thought with a grimace.

“I am sure you are a good person, that your motivations for working here are true,” she elaborated, “But your lack of training? Your lack of … experience,” she gave you a pitiful look, “I am simply not convinced you are cut out for the work we need here.”

You had always thought it but hearing someone else say it to your face hit deeper than you ever could have thought. Your fingers started to tremble and you clasped your hands together, squeezing them to somehow force yourself to remain with as much dignity as you could.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would keep your tears at bay, “What – what does that mean?”

“As there are no reasons for a suspension based on your mental health, the next step would be that I get in contact with your supervisor,” she threw a look on her paper, “SSA Aaron Hotchner, is that correct?” you nodded and she continued, “A written evaluation of your role at the BAU will be requested and then we will go from there. Best case scenario is you won’t leave at all, worst case scenario …”, she trailed off.

Of course, she did not need to finish the sentence for you to know what she was saying.

Worst case scenario: You would leave the FBI.

Realization washed over you and you smiled tightly at her. “Thank you, Dr Johnson,” you stood up, reaching a polite hand out to her which she took, “If you will excuse me, I should get back to my desk while I still can.”

Dr Johnson smiled kindly at you which only made it worse. She was pitying you. She felt sorry for you. Sorry for your incompetence, sorry for you not belonging in this place.

You felt like you would throw up any minute.

“Of course, Agent,” she said softly, “I will inform your supervisor of my recommendation. You will receive a copy of the protocol within the next week.”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes as you hurried out of her office.

*

The staff washroom on the third floor was always empty.

You knew that from the fact that you had often used it as a refuge after nearly dissolving into tears in the bullpen. That and the fact that the third floor was far away enough for anyone of the BAU to search for you here made it the perfect place to come after your talk with Dr Johnson.

You threw a look on your watch.

Six minutes. You would give yourself six minutes and then you would go to your desk and work on those reports and show Dr Johnson that you loved your job and that you were capable of doing it. You would show her that you were not the anxious, incompetent student she saw in you but someone who could be an asset to the team.

I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.

Tears shot into your eyes and you locked the little cabin behind you, sitting on the edge of the toilet as you rushed to grab a few pieces of toilet paper.

The first sob echoed in the tiled room and you pressed the tissues to your mouth, hoping it would muffle the sounds somewhat. Your skin felt too hot and too tight and you could already see how your makeup would be ruined by the tears no matter how hard you tried.

And you had left your backup mascara in your bag at your desk.

Great. Just great.

Anxiety filled you at the thought of having to prove yourself even more than before. After Kansas City and Hotch’s encouraging words, you had somehow hoped that the hard part was over now. That you could focus on delivering good work instead of questioning if everyone doubted your belonging in the unit.

But maybe they were and they were just too polite to mention it? Maybe Dr Johnson was finally saying what they all wanted to spare you from?

Tears were rolling freely over your cheeks now, dropping onto your dress and you cursed, trying to wipe it away and somehow keep your face dry. There were still quite a few hours left in the workday and although you hoped there would not be a case coming in today, you were working along with a team of profilers.

You were like an open book to them even if there was the agreement to not profile each other.

A look on your watch told you it was nearly time to go and you took a moment to listen if anybody was there before stepping out of the little cubicle. It was completely abandoned.

Much like you had expected, you looked an absolute mess and just seeing yourself in the mirror brought fresh tears into your eyes.

“Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity,” you echoed the motto, gripping the edge of the counter and taking deep breaths, “Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity.”

*

“Hey, kid, how did it go?”

You entered the chaotic bullpen, just barely avoiding crashing into Anderson before making your way to your desk. Reid was seated across from you which meant that no matter how much of a mess you left at the end of a day, it still looked comparably neat.

Now though, it was nearly empty.

“Hi Derek,” you smiled tightly, your eyes still irritated from your impromptu cry session as you sat down at your desk.

You had splashed cold water on your face in hopes of somehow feeling and looking better. Still, you immediately went for your bag, scrambling to find your emergency mascara and lipstick to sneak back into the washroom before anyone noticed.

Especially –

“Agent,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the office and you winced, feeling the heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. You stayed ducked over your bag, hoping that maybe he did not mean you. Maybe he wanted to talk to Derek or Emily or Reid or –

Cleanly polished shoes appeared in your field of vision and you swallowed.

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled, hastily wiping your cheek of a stray tear before straightening and following him up the stairs. You ignored Derek’s worried look, instead choosing to straighten your shoulders and stoically look ahead.

This was but an extension of the interview with Dr Johnson. You could do this even if the man terrified and intrigued you more than he should.

You had barely stepped foot in his office when he sat down. “Close the door. Sit down.”

You did, feeling much smaller than you had in Dr Johnson’s office. His lips were tight and he looked incredibly displeased, even for Hotch’s standards. You must have majorly messed up.

His hands were clasped in front of him and your eyes fell to his fingers. You swallowed heavily, hands wringing in your lap as you waited for him to start talking.

“Dr Johnson just informed me that a written evaluation of your performance on this team is being requested.”

“Sir, I can explain, I –“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing you and your mouth snapped shut.

“You do not need to explain anything,” he said calmly, “Dr Johnson is only doing her job and after what happened last week, it might not be such a bad idea.”

You nodded, trying to not seem as nervous as you were.

“Do not worry yourself over it. I meant what I said in Kansas,” he stated, facial expression unreadable, “You are a valuable addition to this team and I look forward to seeing your contributions in the future.”

“Yes, Sir,” you looked down on your hands, trying to hide your nervousness, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me Hotch.”

“Yes, Si- Hotch,” you corrected yourself with a sheepish smile. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looked at you. And fuck, it should be forbidden to look this good. You froze, licking your lips and hoping you would be able to blame it on the dryness of your lips instead of you imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth on yours.

Not the time, a rational part of your brain reminded you, So not the fucking time.

*

Shuffling through the crowded metro you pressed your phone to your ear.

“I promise, it is all right, mom,” you assured her, letting yourself fall into one of the free seats, keeping your bag pressed against your chest. An elderly woman threw you an offended look and shuffled away from you as if you had any interest in stealing her dog off her hands.

“I am just worried, honey,” your mom said on the other side of the phone, “We are all worried. It is a hard job, isn’t it? And why do they keep putting you up for evaluations? You haven’t even been there for a full year!”

“Mom –“

“Are you okay?” she interrupted you in that voice that only your mom had, “Truly okay?

Your head fell against the window of the wagon, the heaviness of the day washing over you. You took a shuddering breath, “No, Mom, I – I don’t think I am.”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. She was disappointed and worried, you could hear it already and it did not help to calm the anxiety raging in your stomach. You could almost see her in front of you, the pity in her eyes and the little furrow between her brows.

“You can always come home, hon, you know that, right?” she asked carefully and you cringed at how quiet she was being, “We can still find somewhere else for you to work. A nice option. You can come back home and dad and I will help you. I know it can take some time to find a good position. But you had so much fun doing literature, why not go back to it? You don’t have to stick there if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“But it does make me happy, mom,” you protested, wincing at how desperate you sounded, before adding quietly, “Saving people is what I want to do. And I can do it.”

“I am not saying you can’t, sweetie,” she assured you, “But maybe it is not what you should do with your life, hm?”

*

You could see that the light was on in the living room when you entered the small hallway. The sounds of the TV washed over your ears and you smiled.

“I’m home!”

A non-committal grunt answered you and you grinned, knowing that he was probably too entranced in whatever crime show he was currently watching. You let your keys fall onto the little side table and made sure to lock the deadbolt before making your way to Josh.

Your heels made clicking sounds on the floor and you took care to be as quiet as possible. “Hi,” you grinned, waving at him.

Josh was tall and lanky. And despite being offended if you ever told him that – looked exactly like one would imagine a law student to look. He was always well dressed and took great care when it came to all things cultural. He drank the best wine, read all the important books, watched all the niche movies to impress people.

Sometimes you joked that of the two of you, he was the one who could be expected to work for a government institution.

“It’s late,” he commented, nodding to the screen, “You’re usually here by the second episode.”

“I wanted to get some reports done,” you explained, shrugging out of your coat, “Had a chat with my boss today again. I thought it might be better to not give any more opportunities to criticize me. How was your day?”

“Boring,” he replied, “Attended that one event about intellectual property and want to lunch with a few friends from uni. You should come with us sometime, you will like them.”

You nodded, already thinking ahead of a day when you would have enough free time to join him and his friends. Dr Jones’ words about having a strong social life to fall back to echoed in your mind and you decided to make more of an effort to make friends.

It would be all right.

There was some Chinese takeout in Josh’s lap and you spotted a few grocery bags in the small hallway to your room and the kitchen.

“Did you get me the bananas like I asked?” you asked, slipping out of your heels.

Josh kept munching on his noddle, making a vague gesture that led you into the kitchen. And there, on the tiny dining table were two green bananas.

“They are not even ripe yet,” you called into the living room, “And I asked for four bananas, not two.”

“What do you need them for anyway?”

“I wanted to bake banana bread,” you said, turning to get out some flour and chocolate chips, “It’s an easy breakfast to have in the metro.”

Josh sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing himself onto the black dining chair. “You barely eat at home anyway, that’ll just go to waste.”

“Which is exactly why it is nice to have something ready to eat on the go,” you explained, wondering if he had overheard your words.

Cracking two eggs into a bowl, you hummed. “I could bring it into the office,” you mused, starting to mush up the bananas, “I think JJ mentioned she liked it once.”

“To the colleagues that despise you?”

You frowned, “They don’t despise me. They are very nice to me, Josh.”

Josh took the last bite of his noodles, setting down the little container “By the way, Greg is coming over tonight.

“But it’s almost midnight,” you stated, throwing a confused look towards the clock, just to make sure, “Didn’t you say you will leave for that Seattle trip tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if it gets too late he will just stay on the couch,” Josh replied, shrugging. You nodded, not saying anything but knowing deep down that George would occupy the bathroom that morning so you would have to get up even earlier than normal.

That would be a stressful day.

[bohica160]

Omegaverse - Night out with Hound Wolf Squad (pt. 2)

(Sorry this took awhile. Work was crazy this week >< I ended up making this part fem reader.)

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗMinors gtfo, this isn't for youᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

As you clutched the front of his shirt, he rubbed slow smoothing circles in the middle of your back. You felt his chest begin to vibrate lightly. It took you a second to realize that Chris was purring as well. No one has ever heard this alpha purr. Thankfully for him the music in the building prevented anyone else from hearing it.

While Chris continued to rub his scent on you, Night Howl looked over at the two of you, almost choking on his beer. Tundra slapped him in the back, "Shut up! Don't ruin this!" She hissed at him. Once your scent returned to its normal sweet airy scent, his hands rested at the small of your back. He turned his head down towards your neck, taking a long inhale of your scent. 

It was the best thing he's ever smelled. He could never get enough. Always unconsciously trying to be near you. When he released a long breath of war. air against your bare skin, you didn't realize you placed a soft kiss on his neck.. barely missing his scent gland. A small deep grunt brought you to your senses. You froze in embarrassment. Your cheeks flaring up as you squeezed your eyes shut. Chris noticed your body tense up. 

"You okay?" He asked softly into your head. You slowly nodded your head, still refusing to move. "Use your words little omega", he teased, causing you to release a small whimper. It's fair to say you are the smallest in the group. But just something about how he said that made you rub your legs together. He kneaded your hips, smirking at your reaction. 

While you were both lost in your own little world, your ex made his way from across the room and was walking towards you all. His eyes locked with Chris's dark blues ones. You could feel Chris growl rumbling through his chest. You looked up at him to ask what was wrong, but he hugged you closer to him. 

Before you could look over your shoulder to see, Chris stood up from his seat without breaking eye contact, with one arm wrapped around your waist. Umber Eyes and Tundra noticed this unfamiliar Alpha approach you and Chris, the smell of wet dog emanating from him. "Need something?" Chris sounded completely unphased by the other alpha. The other man sneered, "I'm here to talk to my omega", he raised his chin and tilted it toward you.

Tundra appeared next to along with Night Howl and Umber Eyes. "Excuse you?" You frowned, glaring at the man. “Watch your tongue Omega,” he commanded, continuing to stare down Chris. A deep growl erupted from Chris, his scent started to smell of smoke and gasoline. He released you, and moved towards you ex, towering over him. “The only person who should watch their tongue is you. This is my omega, and if you know what is good for you, you will leave", he taunted as he bared his canines. 

Your ex's scent faded quickly, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs. The man just stood there trying to hold his ground against Chris. However once he let out a growl in warning the man gritted his teeth as he walked away. Chris shook his head, before looking over at you. "Well that's enough excitement for one night. Did you want to head out?”. You looked over at the others. “You guys go ahead, someone needs to watch those fools,” Tundra said as she motioned over at Canine and Lobo, who were still ‘using their charm’ on the dance floor, “We will be okay.” She gave you a wink before you turned back to Chris. He placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you both out of the club. As you passed some of the alphas who were eyeing you, Chris continued to pump out his scent, parting the sea of people.

Once you both made it outside, Chris continued to keep his hand on you, while you guys headed back in the direction you all came from. His scent slowly went back to its spicy musk scent. You both were soon coming up to his car. He cleared his throat, “did you want a ride home?” “No you don’t have t-”, when you looked up at Chris, he gave you a stern look. “I-.... yes please”, your voice soft as you looked down in submission. Chris walked you over to the passengers side and opened the door for you. 

Right when Chris got into the car, he could smell the slight change in your scent, “Sorry about everything. I panicked and it was the first thing that came to mind. I didn’t think it would have escalated to that point. I didn’t mean for you to say I was your omega”, you looked down at your lap, too nervous to look at Chris. A blush krept up his neck, heating up his cheeks and ears. He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. “No, it's my fault for saying that. It was a step out of line”. Your inner omega was screaming at you. You wanted for him to claim you as his. A battle was happening within you.

“I-I wouldn’t mind being your omega”, you said barely above a whisper as you looked at him in the corner of your eye. The man next to you choked on air, causing him to cough up a storm. He looked over at you, his dark blue eyes glancing between your sparkling eyes and plush lips. You leaned over the center console, pressing your breasts together, giving him a nice view into your shirt. “Do you want that Alpha?” you purred, biting your bottom lip. Chris’s alpha was growling at him, telling him to mark you, to finally claim you. He leaned in just barely brushing his nose against yours, “Is that what you want little omega?”, finally giving into his inner alpha, releasing a low growl, trailing his nose down your jaw and to your neck, lightly scraping his canines against your scent glands. 

An ache between your thighs began to grow, your panties wet with your slick, your hands wandering over to his muscular thighs, squeezing them as they got closer to the bulge growing in his pants. “Please Alpha”, he started to nip and suck at the flesh, “please make me yours”. A moan escaping between your lips as he began to swirl his tongue over gland, before pulling back and pressing his lips to yours. One of his hands caressed up your neck, before grabbing a handful of your hair, giving it a slight tug. You gasped against his lips, allowing him to slip his warm tongue into your mouth. The taste of alcohol lingering on him as your tongues pressed hungirly against each other. 

You needed to feel more, you needed to be closer to your alpha. Your swollen lips trailed down to his jaw. Loving the prickly feeling of his scruff as your trailed open mouth kisses down one side of his neck, then doing the same to the other side. So lost in the feeling of your lips all over his skin, you maneuvered over the center console, placing both hands on his shoulders lowering yourself onto his lap. The moment you got closer the scent of your slick filled the car, the grip he held on you tightened, as well as his pants. 

The kisses became more needy and sloppy, teeth clashing against each other moans being swallowed by each other. You began to rock your hips against him, you clit rubbing just right against the tented pants. You pulled back, eyes glazed over chest heaving, gulping air. You leaned back against the steering wheel, you motioned with your eyes to look down. Once his eyes went to where you rested on him, you lifted up your skirt slowly. His cock twitches in his pants the moment he saw your flimsy panties soaked with your slick. 

His head fell back against the headrest, "fuck", he groaned out. He reached out, hooking his finger around the wet fabric, running his finger up and down, rubbing his knuckle against your folds, barely catching on your bundle of nerves. "All of this because of me little omega", his gravelly voice going straight to your core, clenching around nothing. "Please Alpha. I need you to fill me", you sobbed.

"Shit," he hissed against gritted teeth. You lifted yourself up just enough for him to work fast on unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down just enough for his thick cock to spring out, slapping against his abdomen. You wiggled your hips in anticipation, mouth watering needing to finally taste his seed. But you felt like you'd go insane if he didn't fill up your cunt with his member. 

"Come here", he purred as he cupped one of your cheeks while the other fisted his shaft. The heat radiating from your sex was making his cock throb and leak pre down the tip. You rubbed the head up and down your folds wetting it with your slick before sinking down onto his fat cock. The burn of him splitting you open was making a heat pool in your lower back, your mouth slightly open with your jaw slack. 

Chris was doing everything in his power not to thrust up into you. He moved his hands onto your hips, squeezing with bruising strength. You whimpered as you lifted yourself up just an inch before forcing yourself down the rest of his member, letting out a cry. You sat there for a second, adjusting to his girth. Small tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you squeezed them shut. Chris took this time to coo against your skin as he littered your face with light sweet kisses. Whispering words of praise, "So fucking perfect for me. My sweet omega taking me so well."

You unconsciously clenched around him causing him to thrust up. Punching The air out of your lungs the moment he hit against your cervix. "Alpha", you sobbed against his lips. He brushed away your tears with his calloused thumbs. "I got you" he shuddered underneath you, "your alpha has you". He slammed his lips against yours. He gave you a couple shallow thrusts up into you. Your walls refusing to let him go. He swallowed each of your moans, cock massaging your gummy walls. Making sure you feel every inch and vein.

The windows in the car fogged up, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass filled the small pace. Your walls soon fluttering around him, you release your lips. "A-alpha." "I know. M-me to", he rested his forehead against yours, half lidded eyes gazing into your glossed over one's. The pressure building inside of you was too much. Your hips instinctively rocked against his meeting him with each thrust. He could feel his high coming up on him faster than he wanted, but he was determined to feel you spasm around him before he filled that sweet cunt.

"Cum for me. Cum for your alpha", he rasped. That being the final thing to make the coil of pressure snap. Head falling back as you arched into him, letting out a silent scream. Your walls sucking him in, milking everything he had to offer. "Shit shit shit!", he choked out before closing his jaw around your shoulder. Not enough to break skin, but enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head as you road out your climax. With every pump he emptied into you, jerking up into you, made you convuls more around him. You fell forward onto him, head tucked right into his neck. He gave you a couple more thrusts before resting his head back against the headrest. 

He rubbed slow smoothing circles into your lower back, feeling the heat from his palms sink into your body. You let out a small whimper as you tried to sit up, but that only caused him to twitch inside you, giving you small shockwaves. He placed one of his hands on the back of your head, guiding you to rest back against him. He turned his head to kiss your cheek. "No need to rush." He whispered against your head. 

[0097linersb]

Pink Lemonade

CHAPTER 3

Pairings: Jaemin x Renjun x Haechan x Jeno x Mark x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor (I guess), Slow burn af

Summary: The dreamies decide to spend some weeks at an Inn in the middle of the nature to relax and enjoy some outdoor adventures, far away from their crazy idol life. What they didn’t expect was the nice girl running said Inn.

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: hEy guys, I’m SO sorry for 1. taking so long for this shitty chapter and 2. I will no longer be tagging new people simply because I am so lost and I feel like I will miss half of the people who asked so I don’t want to make anyone feel forgotten or upset

THIS ISN’t PROOF READ I SUCK I KNOW I hate thIS STORY

☼  previous / next  ☼

The next morning you woke up before Jeno, you tried to silently sneak out to give him the chance of pretending nothing happened, in case he decided it had all been a drunken mistake and it should be forgotten. Your plan was proven kind of difficult with the whole having to untangle yourself from the man and unzipping the tent open situation, bright sun rays suddenly filling the space. You winced at the light and tried to quickly close the door back up, startled by a groaning sleepy Jeno who confusedly sat up and rubbed his eyes, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to get out,” You apologized.

“Oh, ok. What time is it?”

“I have no idea, my phone died.”

The man searched for his phone among the covers and sighed when he realized he had run out of battery too. You awkwardly stared at each other, not really knowing if one of you should bring up what had happened or just casually move on.

“I don’t think the others are up yet,” You tried to start a conversation before the tension could swallow you up.

“Probably not. I’m still sleepy though, could go for a morning nap,” He smiled before lying back down, you were thankful he was trying to end the awkwardness too.

“I love morning naps.”

“Come join?” He asked with hopeful eyes and you nodded before practically throwing yourself back into his side, careful to not touch him in case he wasn’t interested and you didn’t want to impose yourself. You turned your back to Jeno and closed your eyes, ready to fall asleep in seconds, but was surprised when you felt the man’s arm silently wrapping around your waist and his chest pressing against your back before lazily whispering a “Good night” against the back of your neck. You smiled contently to yourself, hearing Jeno’s breathing get heavier and slower as sleep took over him, following his steps soon after.

The second time you woke up, was to a screaming Jisung. You and Jeno both jumped awake, startled, before running outside thinking there was a snake or something dangerous like that. The two of you were soon staring at the young boy judgingly, looking between him and the cockroach on the floor.

“Jisung, it’s dead,” Jeno sighed, trying to not get annoyed at the young man.

“It’s still moving!” He whined, still refusing to go down from the camping chair.

“They do that,” You sighed too, giving up on trying to make sense of the situation and approaching the boy with your hand out to help him down. “C’mon, help me to put the things back in the truck so we can go back to the Inn.”

Jisung reluctantly did as you said and Jeno started to wake up the others, everyone folded their tents and picked up the trash in silence, too tired and hungover to play around. If looked from afar, one might have you mistaken for extras on a zombie movie.

As you arrived back at the Inn, everyone crawled into their rooms without muttering a single word. You took advantage of the moment to take a shower since you were still in your bikins and Jaemin’s sweater, feeling completely disgusting after a day (mostly a night) of sweating. You were deep in your nirvana state of mind, enjoying the hot water relaxing your muscles and finally cleaning your hair of all that lake water, when you heard a bang at the door. You jumped in shock and looked over at the door instantly.

“Whoever is there, please let me in, I really need to pee!” Jisung screamed, fist still knocking on the door in urgency.

“You can use the bathroom downstairs!”

“Cockroaches,” He squealed before letting out a loud whine. “Please, I’m going to explode.”

You lightly groaned at the inconvenience before quickly shutting the water down and wrapping your towel around you, opening the door and signaling to Jisung that the bathroom was all his. He banged the door shut and you leaned against the hallway wall, waiting to return to your very good shower that you were missing very much after experiencing the chilly wind outside.

“Is there anything wrong?” Jaemin asked after opening his door, seeming like he had just woken up from a deep slumber.

You tried to act casually, like you weren’t standing around in just a towel, “Everything’s awesome.”

Jaemin had his mouth open to start saying something else when another door opened, an annoyed Haechan appearing behind it, “Who’s yelling and why?”

“Jisung needed to use the bathroom,” You explained, feeling way to exposed and embarrassed to elaborate.

“Can’t a guy ever sleep in peace?” Renjun’s suddenly appeared from his room, whining at his friends and rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

“Ok, can everyone please stay inside their rooms for the next 30 seconds?!” You requested loudly in frustration, kind of laughing internally at the way Jeno was midway through opening his door before muttering a sorry and closing it back in super speed.

“Yeah, sorry,” Renjun apologized before going back to his nap, but you didn’t miss the way he gave you a once-over first.

“Enjoy your shower,” Jaemin smiled at you before copying his friend.

Haechan simply stood there staring at you and you looked at him in expectation and a ting of annoyance. The man smirked at you before winking, “Looking good.”

“Yeah, and very much naked, so if you could like, just go inside for a minute,” You politely requested.

“But that’s very much what I’d like to see,” He playfully flirted with a low voice so no one would hear, slowly approaching you. He gave you no time to react as he looked down at your chest, right hand suddenly pinching your hardened nipple and you gasped in surprise, “Cold?”

He looked up at you with a teasing look and you nodded with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he was playing. Haechan whispered a “cute” against your ear before returning to his room with a smirk, right on time for Jisung to open the door, “Thank you so much! I’m sorry for interrupting your shower. I think I had the content of two whole wine bottles in my bladder.”

“It’s ok,” You assured him absently, still bothered by Haechan’s antics. You honestly had thought he was all bark and no bite, you two have been playfully flirting since day one and you had guessed it was just part of your friendship dynamic considering you both always laughed about it.

Well, you could do nothing about it except from seeing where life would take you two.

            _____________________________________________

After showering, you prepared some yogurt bowls with fruits and granola for breakfast, figuring you could all have a late lunch. Jaemin came downstairs after an hour and helped you out, stopping you from murdering another poor orange.

“Do you think everyone will be up for an activity today?” You asked, hoping they would opt for a more relaxing afternoon, as you were pretty much tired and hungover yourself.

Jaemin softly laughed, “If the activity is dying on the floor of the living room, yes.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Slept late?” He raised an eyebrow at you and you almost dropped the knife you were holding.

Does he know?

“I went to bed right after you did, red wine is just not my friend,” You awkwardly laughed, trying to calm your mind down. He couldn’t have heard anything over the loud singing yesterday and Jeno probably didn’t tell him.

Jaemin said nothing to that and you both enjoyed a semi-comfortable silence until he offered, “Want me to teach you how to peel an orange?”

“Theoretically speaking I know how to do it, I just can’t make my hands actually work,” You laughed, but moved closer so he could show you anyways.

“I’ll teach you an easier way then, it’s not ideal but it’s better than losing half of the orange,” He teased and you glared at him. “You just have to cut it in half like this, and then like this. Actually you can cut it as many times as you want to. When they are in slices like this you can just use your fingers to pull the peel away.”

“Oh, I think I can do that,” You exclaimed in excitement, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Hey, do you by any chance have more of that pineapple cake?”

“Chenle finished it but I can go to town to buy some more when we’re done with this. You can come along if you want to, they have a lot of options.”

“That sounds great.”

The two of you managed to quickly finish decorating the bowl, even adding some pretty flowers Jaemin went out to pick on top of it. After placing it all in the fridge so it wouldn’t become a mess until the others woke up, you scribbled down a note letting them know you had gone to the city and would be right back before heading outside to the car.

“Can I drive?” Jaemin asked jokingly, knowing your car was very dear to you.

“If you crash it, you’re giving me that watch,” You rolled your eyes, throwing the keys at him, who looked surprised at your compliance but laughed excitedly when catching the keys. His watch was probably worth more than your car anyways.

You hesitantly climbed into the passenger seat and tried to not say anything as Jaemin left the property in reverse, you hated riding shotgun.

He did look kind of hot, though.  

“I know how to drive, you know? You don’t have to grip the handles so tight,” The man laughed once you were already on the road.

“I’m just not used to not being the one behind the wheel,” You apologized, forcing yourself to relax your hands on your lap so you wouldn’t offend a man’s driving’s skills. “Turn right on that street. Did you enjoy skiing?”

“I did, yesterday was just a fun day as a whole. You also looked really pretty in my sweater,” He looked at you softly and It took a lot of control for you to not melt into the seat.

“I’m giving it back as soon as I wash it, by the way. Thank you again for not letting me freeze.”

“Don’t worry. You can keep it, it looked better on you.”

“Jaemin, I know you’re trying to be a gentleman and all but that’s a Balenciaga swea-“

“And I’d like for you to have it.”

“I’m really living everyone’s fanfic’s dreams, aren’t I?” You giggled softly.

“Do you read those?” Jaemin chuckled.

“Of course. I live in the middle of nowhere, anything to pass the time. Follow that Sunny Mountain sign.”

“Ok. You should teach me how to find those, I’m curious as to what our fans write about us.”

“Uh, you really shouldn’t.”

“Dirty stuff?”

“Lots of it, probably.”

Jaemin laughed at that but said nothing more, deciding to pay attention to the road for once. You were distracted trying to find a cool Spotify playlist on your phone when you felt the man’s hand on your thigh, he didn’t move it and he didn’t look at you, just staring straight ahead with a casual demeanor like it was something you did all the time. You said nothing about it, just enjoyed the touch and followed his lead.

As you arrived at the city, you directed Jaemin around until you were parking right in front of the little traditional bakery.

“Good morning, Mary. Looking beautiful as always,” You complimented the old lady behind the counter, who you have known since you were a little girl. “Please tell me you made some pineapple cake.”

“My dear, if I didn’t I would run out of business,” Mary laughed. “I’ll wrap one up for you.”

“Thank you. Jaem, do you want to try something else?” You asked, pointing to the display in front of you full of a variety of cakes, which this region was famous for.  “This is a banana one, it’s so good. The wine one is also tasty.”

Jaemin shivered at the word wine and you laughed because honestly, same.

“The banana one sounds good,” He agreed.

“Mary, I’ll take one half banana, half peach.”

The boy looked at you surprised that you remembered his favorite fruit and you just smiled at him, showing you were also paying attention.

“On it. Is that your boyfriend? I’ve been praying for you to find someone to keep you company in that big old house for ages,” The lady started, taking the cakes from the displays to cut them for you.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You joked, winking at Jaemin who gave you a teasing smile back. “But unfortunately he’s just a guest at the Inn.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate, but it’s a pleasure to meet you anyways. Maybe it’s better this way, my Gus would be jealous.”

You laughed in joy at the mention of your childhood summer friend, “How is he? I miss him!”

“He’s doing amazing,” She answered with a smile when talking about her grandson, placing the cakes’ halves on a plastic plate. “He just graduated last year, rented me a fancy dress and all.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that! I need to congratulate him. When he’s back in town, can you ask him to drop by the Inn really quickly? We’re having some internet problems as always.”

“Of course, dear. He will love that, I bet he’ll come around by the weekend. Here’s your cakes! I’ll put it on your account.”

Jaemin helped you getting one of the boxes from the balcony and you got the other.

“Thank you, Mary! Have a nice day!”

“You kids too!”

You carefully placed the cakes on the back seats, wrapping the seatbelts around it so they wouldn’t move during the transportation as Jaemin looked around, appreciating the view.

“The city is pretty cute, right?”

“It is, actually. Is that an ice cream place?”

“Kind of. But they do have an ice cream buffet.”

“That sounds awesome, can we go there?”

“I guess the cakes won’t go bad in the car if we’re quick.”

“They won’t, it’s kind of cold today.”

“Right? I thought I was sick or something,” You complained, pouting at the temperature change.

“Here, let’s go freeze,” Jaemin laughed, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders and leading you across the street.

                              ______________________________

You figured you liked Jaemin. As in, you really liked Jaemin. He was just so easy to talk to and a genuine funny caring guy – You didn’t see much of those anymore.

What was supposed to be a quick trip to the town turned into a 2 hour long tour around all the little spots the city had to offer, playfully taking photos of each other like you were in a romantic movie or something.  When you finally went back to the Inn, your heart was swollen and your cheeks were hurting from smiling too much.

“Be right back my ass,” Haechan welcomed you with a grunt.

“We took long but we brought cake,” You pinched his pouting face.

“Ok, I forgive you.”

“Are you guys hungry?”

“For cake? Yes,” Jisung excitedly exclaimed.

“I meant for real food, it’s past lunch time.”

“We actually just ate breakfast, Jeno is still sleeping,” Renjun informed.

“It’s ok, I’ll cook today,” Jaemin messed with your hair and you glared at him.

“No, you won’t. You’re a guest here.”

“And I’m a great cook, so get your ass back in bed and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“That’s rude of you, Na Jaemin,” You joked.

“Learning from the best.”

You glared at him but decided to accept your fate. After your nap with Jeno and your shower, you were not sleepy anymore, so you decided to invite the rest to sunbathe in the lower deck by the lake. Haechan and Mark were happy to join and the three of you sprawled around under the blue sky after changing into your bathing suits. You were struggling to get sunscreen on your back and Mark silently asked for the tube in your hand, doing It for you as Haechan blabbed about League of Legends – It was really hard to hide the chills across your skin when you were wearing basically no clothes.

After Mark got over being awkward because of your exposed skin, he was actually one of the most fun people to be around that you had ever hung out with. He literally laughed and got excited over everything you and Haechan said and it made you feel special, you definitely understood his charms now. Also, with him being from Canada and all, you two had a lot more in common than you had imagined, which was revitalizing.

Soon enough, both boys started bickering over something and you just closed your eyes and tried to drift off, this was supposed to be relaxing time. But then again, it was hard to put relaxing and Haechan in the same sentence.

After what seemed like ten minutes of the men next to you arguing, you suddenly heard your name and opened your eyes begrudgingly with a “Huh?”

“Help us. Who’s right?” Haechan asked.

“I ain’t even listening, I’m sorry.”

“Haechan over here seems to think he has a bigger chance with you than I do,” Mark smirked and you chocked around air. What kind of demon possessed Mark Lee’s body?

“Of course I do, don’t I?” It was Haechan’s turn to smirk at you and you just stared between them totally lost. They were arguing about song lyrics a few minutes ago, what the fuck happened? “So? Who’s right?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” Haechan lifted an eyebrow at you in a challenging way.

“Let her speak,” Mark cut him off and you felt goosebumps up your body once again at his strict tone. Damn, that was definitely not expected from Mark Lee.

“This is very unprofessional,” You muttered in shock, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, c’mon. You think I didn’t hear your little show with Jeno the other night?” Mark laughed darkly and you shrank into yourself.

“What? What happened with Jeno?” Haechan asked confused.

“Nothing,” You quickly inform, trying to end that conversation.

Mark tsks and softly put your hair behind your ear, looking at you with endearing eyes, “Our pretty Y/N had some fun times with Jeno in their tent, didn’t she? Tell Haechan.”

You gulped and turned to Haechan, only nodding in shame because you were not about to admit you sucked his friend out loud. The boy’s eyes only widened and you could see Mark’s smirk from the corner of your eyes, what a wicked man.

“Guess none of us have a chance, then. Since Jeno got to you first,” Mark played and you briskly shook your head, feeling how you were already pulsing between your legs. The man raised an eyebrow at your reaction, like it wasn’t what he had planned, “Oh?”

“Please,” Was all that you managed to let out. Too embarrassed to elaborate.

“Kiss her,” He ordered and you noticed he was talking to Haechan, who smiled widely before bending down to capture your lips.

His kiss was playful like his personality, his hand found its place behind your neck and he lightly nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth, not allowing you to deepen the kiss like you wanted to. When you whined in frustration, you felt his smirk against your lips before he harshly grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, his tongue finally against yours.

Well, this was not how you expected your day to turn out.

You were so focused on how good it felt to melt into Haechan, that you jumped in shock when you felt Mark’s fingers playing with your bikini bottoms.

“Look how wet she it, Haechan,” He commented like he was hypnotized by the view and you two broke the kiss so he could look at where his friend was staring. Mark’s middle finger started to lightly circle your clit over the fabric and you moaned, hiding your face in shame. You were probably about to have sex. No, not sex. A threesome. With your guests!!!

“Y/N.”

“What?” You groaned.

“Y/N!”

You uncovered your eyes annoyed only to find Haechan and Mark staring at you weirdly, sitting up on their own beach towels like well-behaved boys.

“Did I fall asleep?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we thought you were having a nightmare so we decided to wake you up,” Mark explained softly and you gulped.

“Thank you, it was horrible,” You lied, heart beating fast and chest heaving.

Mark and Haechan went back to arguing while you tried to recompose yourself, but as soon as Haechan shot you a knowing smirk, you quickly got up and left, figuring you could play cards with Renjun or something.

                                            ____________________________________

Jaemin didn’t lie when he said he was a good cook, and not only that, but he was also an organized worker, washing and cleaning everything right after using it. What a dreamy man. You were still too bothered over having a weird wet dream with your guests, who were right beside you, to think much about how amazing Jaemin was.

After everyone had lunch (and you decided to sit far far away from your sunbathing partners, safely cuddled between Chenle and Jisung at the end of the table), you washed all the dishes left while Jeno dried them, thankful that you two managed to not let things go south after your little encounter.

The Inn still had no internet so there was nothing much you could do with everyone being tired, so like Jaemin predicted, you all sprawled around the living room’s floor and played some games. After a few hours, you started getting tired of playing and turned the Tv on, trying to find the least terrible channel the Tv’s antenna could pick up, settling on a game show that got everyone pretty excited. Somehow you ended lying on Jaemin’s chest and you noticed Jeno giving you a look but couldn’t quite catch what he meant with it. He seemed normal with you after it, so you decided to let it go, realizing you were only overthinking things.

For dinner, you all had some leftovers from lunch and lots of cake. You had spent so many hours talking that you felt like you have known these boys since forever, or at least you wanted to. There was just not a moment around them when you weren’t laughing or smiling, and besides the obvious sexual tension moments, it felt really comfortable to be around them. Of course they could be annoying and inconvenient at times, they were men after all, but it was not hard to get over that.

Surprisingly enough, even after sleeping until way past noon, the boys were still tired and went to bed early with the promise of fun adventures for the next day. You and Renjun stayed back in the balcony talking about life and art, looking at the stars and drinking a glass of wine. It was nice sharing your deep thoughts with someone who matched your intensity and excitement, Renjun was indeed an artist and you loved experiencing the universe with him for a night.

When it was around 1 in the morning, the two of you said goodnight with a soft smile, knowing you two now shared a bond.

Entering your room and turning the lights on, you were surprised to find Jeno playing with his phone on your bed.

“Hey,” You offered confused.

He gave you an eye smile before dropping his phone on the bed, “Hey.”

“So, you’re in my room…”

“Just wanted to ask if I could sleep with you, it’s nice.”

“Oh, ok. Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just change,” You agreed and laughed at the way Jeno covered his eyes when you grabbed on the hem of your shirt and pulled it off, “I think we’re way past that, Jeno Lee.”

“Sorry, it’s automatic,” He explained as he dropped his hands back on the bed, watching you silently as you changed into your pajamas. You sleepily climbed into bed next to the man, both of you lying on your sides and staring at each other. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you,” You softly breathed out. This seemed all too familiar.

He delicately pressed his lips against yours, hand grabbing your cheek so his thumb could soothingly caress your cheek. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the soft touches, reciprocating the kiss with the same fluttering intensity. Jeno simply did that for a few minutes before breaking away from you and smiling, “Sorry, I just really wanted to kiss you.”

“It’s ok,” You giggled, content and in peace.

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[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 2}

Thank you all so sooo much for the kind feedback on part 1! Part 2 is coming at you now! 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: injuries, mentions of death/war/murder, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.5k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

A Summer’s Ball  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

The next few days were just as tumultuous as the first, Chan and Korenna slowly progressing from treating each other with complete silence, to short-lived bickering, to finally being able to hold a civil conversation for at least a few minutes.  You escorted them to more ceremony preparation meetings, then to councils with the foreign affairs ministers, the historians, the priests, each one stressing how this union would be a stepping stone in your two kingdoms’ relations and they should think of it as a huge honor.  You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the both of them, being reminded over and over how their lives were simply a means to an end, to be controlled at the whim of their fathers’ aspirations.

A turning point finally came when the three of you visited the city surrounding the palace grounds, the prince refusing to miss his weekly visit to the village market.  Chan loved to interact with his people, to support their businesses, to hear their grievances, to show he cared.�� You followed behind the two of them as you walked through the plaza lined with stalls, Chan waving to each of the merchants, Korenna watching him with a mix of reservation and admiration.

“Your people seem to be thriving.  I wish I could say the same about our villages.”

You eyed Chan, knew he was forcing himself to hold back a biting remark, likely about how if Lajor’s people were currently suffering, it was the monarchy’s fault.  He finally came up with a question, trying his best to keep the conversation going.

“Have you brought up your concerns to your father?”

“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say.  All he cares about is what he thinks is right, no matter who suffers for it.”

Chan nodded solemnly, “I can understand that.”

Korenna gave him a somber look and appeared to have something more she wanted to say, but was promptly dragged off by a small child wanting to show her his father’s bakery stall.

You nudged Chan’s arm.  “See, she’s not so bad, Your Highness.  If you give her a chance.”

He started in the direction of the princess, turning to walk backwards and smile at you with his arms out in a lighthearted shrug, “If you say so.”

***

That evening the king was hosting a ball, to celebrate the engagement of the prince.  You’d helped Chan dress, his midnight blue velvet ensemble and dark hair set off against the silver crown he wore making him look more like a deity of the moon than an earthly prince.  Then you had gone to assist Korenna.  You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as you watched her from across the room, her champagne colored gown and perfectly curled blonde hair standing out against the relatively muted colors worn by the other attendees.  She was standing away from Chan, talking amongst a group of noblemen’s wives and other high powered ladies, but her eyes never strayed far from his back as he talked with Minho and some other knights around a wooden table in the corner.

“You look quite stunning tonight, Y/n.  Purple is definitely your color,” came a deep voice on your left, and you turned to see Prince Felix approaching you, his small frame clothed in a breathtaking deep red suit.  The younger brother of Prince Minho, Felix had the sunniest personality of anyone you’d ever met, quite contrasting to his voice but in perfect harmony with the bright smile he flashed as he reached your side.  It had been several months since you’d last seen him, his studies as apprentice to your kingdom’s Chief Healer taking him to the academy in the highlands far away from the city.

“Prince Felix!” you exclaimed, arms reaching to pull him into a quick hug.  “I could say the same for you; that red suits you perfectly, Your Grace.”

Felix laughed, releasing you from his hold.  You and he had been close friends since childhood, ever since, at the age of 5, he’d stepped on the hem of your skirt and you’d pushed him into a mud puddle, causing guards to rush over and attempt to have you arrested.  His mother and the queen had stepped in, calming the guards as you remorsefully reached out your hand to help him up only to be pulled down into the mud next to him, the both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

“I’ve missed the city.  And it seems the city has missed me for all the excitement it’s spun up in my absence.”  His eyes followed your gaze to where Korenna had made her way over to Chan, and watched as she led him out to the quiet balcony overlooking the gardens.  “How are you taking all of this?”

“I’m fine, Your Grace.  What reason would I have not to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

Felix fixed you with a knowing look, but dropped the subject, content to stand with you at the edge of the dance floor.

“Y/n, I thought I told you not to let Christopher and the princess out of your sight,” came King Bang’s voice from behind you.  “The last thing we need is for them to get into one of their verbal sparring matches with the whole court present.”

You turned, lowering your head to the king.  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

You left Felix next to the king, his expression turned to one of distaste at his new company, and walked quietly out onto the balcony where the couple was talking.

They were standing closer together than you had ever seen them, leaning forward against the railing’s edge.  They seemed to be deep in conversation, Korenna actually reaching her hand up to place it on Chan’s back.  It didn’t feel right watching them without their knowledge, so you cleared your throat loudly, causing both their heads to snap up.  Chan looked slightly embarrassed, his head tilting forward, but Korenna’s expression was almost unreadable.  She stood staring at you for a few  seconds, then pursed her lips, nodded her head to Chan, and walked back into the main ballroom as you approached him.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Trust me, Y/n, you didn’t,” came Chan’s tired reply.  You wanted to know if she had upset him, to know how you could comfort him.

“What were you discussing?”

A soft song started to make its way out from the half-open door.  Chan looked up at you, completely ignoring your question.

“Dance with me?”

Several seconds went by in silence.  He reached out his hand, eyes imploring you to say something, to say yes.

This was dangerous.  You couldn’t think of a worse position to be caught in, dancing with a betrothed man far above your stature.  But you also couldn’t think of a way to say no to him.

You took his hand and he pulled you flush against him immediately.  You tried to resist the urge to place your head on his chest, but the feeling of being in his arms was too much, made you feel so safe.  So you laid your cheek there and felt a low hum come up through his chest.  It was quiet for a while, the two of you simply swaying back and forth, not doing any particular dance.  You felt his head rise from where it had been resting on top of your head.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but you look gorgeous tonight Y/n.”

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness.”

“I know.  I wanted to tell you again.”

Then he placed his head back down and you continued to spin in slow circles until the song ended.  He brought your movements to a stop, taking your hand and kissing the top of it as he leaned forward in an exaggerated bow, “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

You looked at him with a small smile.  “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

He returned your smile, turned, and walked back towards the party.  You felt your chest tighten, feeling a little too much like your dance had been his way of saying goodbye.

Thinly Veiled Threats  |  Kingdom of Gu, 6 years ago

“Watch out!”

You turned towards the direction of the voice just in time to see Chan break through the wooden fence in front of you, thrown off his horse by the force of the lance he just took to the chest.

The prince had just turned seventeen, which made him eligible to compete in the annual Four Kingdom Competition, where knights, lords, and even royalty from the continent’s four greatest kingdoms met to determine who among them would be crowned victor in a series of strength tests.  His father had of course insisted he enter on his first eligible year, which had led to the activity you were currently engaged in, training a boy who was used to classrooms, libraries, and diplomacy lessons the intricacies of hand to hand combat.  The tasks ranged from archery to sword fighting, wrestling to jousting, and while Chan knew his way around a broadsword and shield, it was clear that the latter of those was not going to be Chan’s strong suit.

You walked calmly towards where he sat on the ground, knowing he would only be more embarrassed by any attempts to rush to his aide.  He was sitting up, so you could tell he wasn’t badly injured, but his right hand still stretched across his abdomen to clutch at his left side.  He’d been hit there at least three times now, and if you had to guess, what was once a bad bruise was more likely a patch of broken skin at this point.

Voices floated around you as you pushed your way through the small crowd that had gathered around him, many asking the prince if he was alright or giving unsolicited advice on how to avoid the outcome he seemed to be cursed with.  You picked up on the voice of a squire, one who served the boy who had knocked Chan down most recently, as he nudged the side of the older boy’s arm.

“You could have gone a little easier on him, you know.  His mother just died.”

Great.  Just what you needed; a physically and emotionally wounded Chan.

“Alright, give him some room everyone.  His Highness is fine; go back to your own practicing.”  You shooed away the stragglers and knelt so Chan could wrap his free arm around your neck, hoisting him up and slowly making your way to the infirmary tent.  Leaning him against the side of a cot, you reached for the clean cloth and distilled vodka; this was going to hurt like a bitch, but Chan could take it.

“You’re pulling back too much and too early, it leaves your side vulnerable,” you said, carefully easing off his ripped tunic so you could tend to his wound.

He stayed silent for a few moments, fingers gripping harshly against your shoulder as you cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

“I…,” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words he was looking for.  “I’m a coward.  I’m a failure and a coward and everyone knew it except me, until just now.”

His words knocked the wind out of you.  You knew he was ashamed (entirely unnecessarily) when he couldn’t hold back the tears at his mother’s funeral while his father maintained his perfectly stoic expression (that heartless bastard), knew he was self-conscious about his fighting abilities, but you’d never heard him express that insecurity so directly before.

“Your Highness,” you spoke softly but forcefully, hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eye, “you are one of the bravest men I know.  You have one of the hardest burdens a person can bear on your shoulders, have had it since you were born, and you carry it with grace and dignity and compassion.  You inspire me and countless others every day with your strength and generosity.  You are not a coward.”

He looked back at you, and suddenly you felt yourself being engulfed in his embrace, his legs parting to pull you close to him.  He wrapped his arms tightly around your chest, his head pressing into the crook of your neck.  Slowly you brought your hands up and began to rub small circles on his bare back.  This was the most emotion he’d shown since that night you stood beside his mother’s bed, watching as he held her hand and whispered all the things he wanted to tell her one last time.  You were a little overwhelmed, but mostly happy, happy that maybe he was feeling again.  Eventually you heard his quiet voice next to your ear, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Then he released you from his hold, donned his shirt, and walked back to the jousting pitch.  You watched him go, until a deliberate cough came from behind you, shattering your reverie.

“I suppose he’s lucky to have you.”  The words spilled from the king’s mouth, his signature gravelly voice seeming to chase all other sound from the tent.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, I hadn’t noticed you were here,” you spoke, bending into a curtsey.

“It seems it is quite easy for the two of you not to notice others when you think you are alone.”

You blinked, unsure of where the king was going with his remarks.  He sidled up to you, close enough you could hear him at a whisper.

“I may have owed your family a debt, but that has been repaid ten-fold.  I know my son, know he would never be led astray of his responsibilities unless you gave credence to those thoughts in his head, fed his intimate physical desires.  So do not delude yourself into thinking you can take him from me, little servant girl.  And if he ever does come to me, asking me to set aside our laws, our traditions, so he can marry you, I’ll know what you have done, and you will never see the light of day again.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied with your response, he left you there, his words staining your mind like the bloody cloth you clutched in your hands.

The Hunt  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

How he managed to get his father to agree to this you had no idea.  But Chan always was very convincing when he needed to be.

You were preparing for a day’s long hunt.  In all honesty it was an excellent idea; it would give Chan space to be himself after having been shut inside the palace for two weeks, preparing for his impending nuptials.  Normally this was one of your favorite activities to do with Chan and the knights; getting to ride, to spend time in the woods, maybe use your bow.  But the one condition of the king’s agreement had been that Korenna was going too.

She’d been different with you, with everyone really, since that night on the balcony, avoiding attempts to make small talk and speaking harshly when she made requests.  You didn’t want your relationship with her to turn sour, seeing as you’d soon be serving her for the rest of her life (and yours), so you held your tongue and pressed on with your duties.

Chan’s black courser and your chestnut palfrey were saddled, and you were in the midst of preparing a well-tempered white mare for the princess.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

You looked up, seeing the dark head of hair and upside down smirk belonging to Prince Minho smiling down at you as he leaned over your kneeling frame.  “Good morning, Your Grace.”

You were not as close to Minho as you were to Felix, but you had always gotten along well, your similar sense of humor and affinity for archery solidifying your friendship.

He offered his hand to pull you up, which you accepted.  “I’m glad you will be joining us on this outing, Y/n.  I’m not sure I could handle Chan and Korenna on my own, even with 5 other knights to accompany me.”

You hummed in agreement, finishing attaching the bridle around the mare’s head.  “I’m not sure you could either, Your Grace.”

Minho let out his signature high pitched laugh as the rest of your party approached, and the two of you maneuvered to the front of the pack as you set off towards the nearby woods.  You all rode in silence for a while, riding not typically being an activity that required much talking, until you heard Korenna speak from her position next to Chan in the middle of your group.

“So, who is the best at the strength tasks of the Four Kingdom Competition?”

A strange question to ask so out of the blue, but you supposed it was somewhat relevant to the situation at hand.

“His Highness is an excellent swordsman,” you replied, looking back slightly in their direction.

“Sir Jeongin has given us all a run for our money in the wrestling ring,” you heard a voice from the back say.  He must be one of the other knights in your party.

Chan replied next, “Minho is a skilled horseman, beats me in the joust nearly every time.”

Minho’s eyebrows rose up at that, smirking as he rounded out the answers, “And Y/n here is an expert marksman.  She’s the best I’ve ever seen with a bow.”

You thanked him mentally, hoping he could read it in the look on your face.  You weren’t about to boast about your own talents to the princess, but it was nice to know that she was now aware you weren’t just some lovesick girl who followed the prince around, that you actually took your responsibilities seriously.

“Really?  And who taught you about archery, Y/n?”  You thought you heard a touch of menace in her normally high pitched voice, but brushed it off.

“I’ve had many teachers, Your Grace, but the first was my father.”

“How very… non-traditional.  Where is your father now?  I’d love to meet him.”

You saw Chan and Minho tense in their saddles, well aware of what your answer would be.

“He died, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” said Korenna, her voice noticeably softer now, “I apologize for bringing up a sore subject.”

“It’s alright, Your Grace,” you replied.  “It was a long time ago.  You couldn’t have known.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group then, but luckily your first planned stop was not far ahead.  A small grove of trees surrounding a clearing was where you usually began the hunt, splitting off in different directions and meeting back there before sundown.  But because you had the princess with you today, it was a more laid back affair, and you’d planned to have a picnic of sorts before you continued in earnest.

Everyone set about unpacking the sacks that carried your meal for the day.  You uncorked your canteen, taking a sip before heaving an exasperated sigh.

You’d forgotten to bring extra water for the horses.

You called over to Chan, where he stood spreading out a blanket for Korenna to sit on.

“Your Highness, I’m going to the creek to get water for the horses.”

Chan looked up and you could see the smile on his face from where you stood across the grove.  “I’ll go with you!” he said happily, only to have his arm tugged back by the princess next to him.

“You are not a servant, Chan.  I’m sure Y/n can go by herself.”

Your loud conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group, who were all looking over at you in interest.  You were surprised by her bluntness, but she did have a point.  “Her Grace is right, I don’t need you to accompany me, Your Highness.  I simply wanted to tell you where I was going.”

Chan gave a side glare at Korenna, but agreed.  “Fine, but you shouldn’t go alone.  Sir Jeongin - “

A tall boy, clad in the red, black, and gold uniform of your knights, walked over to the prince.   He was no more than eighteen, must have only just taken his oath.  You remembered his name from the earlier conversation about the strength tests, impressed he was making a name for himself so early.

“ - please accompany Y/n to the stream to fetch water for the horses.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

So the two of you set off, leaving the rest to their meals.  You didn’t really need a knight for protection, but your heart warmed at the gesture of Chan not wanting you to go alone.  You arrived at the bank of the creek and began filling some extra pouches you had brought with water.

“It’s so much quieter here,” Jeongin commented absentmindedly.

Despite the sound of the water running, you agreed it did seem calmer here than in the grove you came from.  As you knelt by the edge of the stream, you noticed large patches of grass surrounding some nearby trees had been pressed down.  Curious, you walked over to the area, observing the singed ground and muddy boot prints on the rocks, telltale signs of human presence.  You hadn’t run into anyone else on your walk over, but maybe there were some others out riding today.  Raising your head, you called to your companion, “Sir Jeongin!  Were there any other hunting parties out today?”

“Not that I know of, Miss,” Jeongin replied, his expression revealing he was rather confused by your question.

You looked around again, and that was when you noticed the torn piece of blue fabric latched to a jagged branch on a nearby tree.  Your blood ran cold and you grabbed Jeongin’s arm, breaking into a run.

“We need to get back to them.  Now.”

You’d made it about half way back to the grove when you heard a scream, you and Jeongin sprinting to reach the clearing.  But when you arrived, the scene was entirely not what you expected.

Your mind had immediately gone to the Lajorans when you spotted that piece of cloth on the tree.  But here you stood, watching men clad in your own colors raise their swords to clash with the group of knights who’d accompanied you and the royals.  Your eyes frantically searched among the chaos, looking for Chan, but before you could spot him you noticed Korenna, hiding alone behind a large rock at the edge of the treeline.  You pulled Jeongin back behind a tree, gesturing in her direction.

“Do you see the princess over there?  You’re going to grab her, get on a horse, and ride back to the palace now.”

Jeongin was looking at you with wide, scared eyes; his mouth was open, not making a sound.

You shook his shoulder.  “Sir Jeongin, do you understand me?  Do not look back at us, just take the princess and get her to safety.  I need you to do this.”

Your words seemed to finally reach him, and he set his mouth in a straight line.  “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good.  Go.  And don’t look back.”

He left your spot behind the tree and you turned back to the action in the grove, still trying to find the prince.  Finally your eyes landed on two men standing back to back, swords flying as they blocked the attack of about 6 different men.

Chan and Minho.

You started towards them, reaching for your own sword, when you spotted someone perched in a tree right outside the circle of men.  The attackers started to pull back from around the two princes, and you could see exactly who the archer had in his line of sight.

You screamed his name, sprinting to cross the clearing and threw your body in front of him, arms outstretched.

You felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder as you fell against Chan’s chest, his arms coming up to catch you.

“Y/n!  Y/n!”

Trumpets were blaring from the direction of the castle as Minho dragged Chan back, still desperately clutching you in his arms.  The attackers were dispersing and you heard the sound of a voice saying “Chris”; it took a moment for you to realize it was your own.

“I’m here, Y/n, I’m here.  Just hold on please.  You’re going to be okay, just please hold on.”

The last thing you saw were his eyes as your vision went black.

Of Flower Buds and Roots  |  Kingdom of Gu, 16 years ago

“Mother, when will they be here?”

You were standing in the open-air courtyard at the front of the palace, your mother’s hands on your shoulders.  The two of you had moved to the palace a few years ago, when your mother had gotten a job as a servant there after the war ended.  Today, you were told, would be the day you were to start your position there, as personal attendant to the young crown prince.

“I’m sure soon darling.  Remember we never rush royalty.”

As you waited, your eye was caught by a small boy standing with a large scary looking man.  He looked to be about your age and was holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.  The man seemed to be trying to take them away, but the boy clutched them to his chest.  A woman who you thought you’d seen before approached them, glaring at the man, who backed away from the boy as she took his hand.  Then, they started walking towards you.

Your mother tightened her grip on your shoulders, bending into a curtsey and pushing you down with her.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“The pleasure is ours,” came the queen’s pleasant voice.  She knelt down between you and the boy.

“You must be Y/n.  This is my son Christopher, the prince.  You will serve as his attendant.”

You stared at the boy, his eyes even with yours, hair mussed and shirt covered in dirt.

“He doesn’t look like a prince.  He looks like me”

“Y/n!” your mother gasped, the queen chuckling slightly and calming your mother with a hand on her arm.

“You’re right, he might not look like one yet.  But it’s going to be your job to help him become one.  Do you think you can do that?”

You pondered her question and finally said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and stepped aside, placing her hands on Chan’s back and pushing him forward.

“Hi Y/n!” the boy said excitedly.  “My name’s Chris.  Or Chan.  Either’s fine!  I brought you these flowers!  I thought they might look pretty in your hair.”

He extended his tiny fist holding the flowers and you took one from the bunch, pulling back your hair and putting the flower behind your ear.

Chan’s face immediately lit up in the brightest smile you’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling cutely.  “I was right!”

From that moment on, you decided there was nothing you wouldn’t do to see that smile on his face.

{part 3}

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Tower

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | two

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re apart of the Refugee Relief Movement, an intergalactic organization providing aid throughout the systems, and you find yourself assisting at a resettlement camp in Lothal when disaster strikes, changing your life forever, intertwining your path with that of a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter.

Word count: 3.7k~

Rated: Mature

Warnings: descriptive violence, blood/injury mentioning, danger, mature language

Notes: Hi y'all, welcome. This fic is going to be set during Season 2 of The Mandalorian, and will be what I like to call ‘canon adjacent’. ALSo, this chapter is very much so Reader focused, setting up the scene and the general pacing of the story, but naturally, Din will be more and more featured as things progress. I’m a sucker for backstory and a slow burn, so ye be warned. Please feel free to reach out to me. :) I’d love to hear from you lovely little beans. Be safe out there, friends.

Lothal was a planet all too familiar with occupation.

You remember seeing a quote somewhere that read ‘Look no further than Lothal if you want to see what happens when the Empire takes control of an entire world’; and although the Imperial chokehold had loosened when the Empire fell, the planet, even all these years later, still found itself gasping for breath. 

Off world migration from the Core Worlds had been popularized since the expansion of the Imperial government bureaucracy, which brought booming business opportunities for the fortunate few, but as the rich became richer, the poor grew poorer. The Lothalites were forced out of their homes, off their own lands—refugees on their own planet; forced to resettle and relocate with nothing but the clothes on their back and the possessions they could cram into their pockets. The only heirlooms passed on from generation to generation were that of poverty, tall tales of former splendor, and the greatest of ancestral traumas: disillusionment.

The truly desperate turned to crime, and what couldn’t be solved by back-dealings and blaster fire was managed with fear mongering and the bitter flair of xenophobia. There was always a species to blame, and it was always the one who seemed to be doing better off, no matter how slight the margin. 

Greed. Fear. Despair. These are the currencies in which the galaxy trades. 

And so it was then, and continued to be, cycle after cycle. History, always finding clever ways to repeat itself.

On bad days, pollution still loomed heavy over the atmosphere—remnants of the fires from the Imperial occupation still clinging on to Lothal’s weary bones. She had been stripped during that time; gutted and strung up by her feet to dangle from the Empire’s meat hook, exsanguinated slowly, drop by drop, until she had nothing left to give. Her resources and minerals and ore and water and seed, robbed. Pillaged.

She’s free from it now, but the scars remain— the planet remembers. Her people do not forget. Like muscle memory, they all ungulate to this synthesized rhythm they can’t seem to shake, day in and day out, wandering. Forever unsettled.

The planet had always had a diverse population and had become something of a safe haven for other abandoned people fleeing their home worlds, determined to find somewhere - anywhere - for them to survive. Lothal provided that for them. It wasn’t rich or bountiful by any stretch, but it was simple and safe—safe in the way hidden things in plain sight are. One could blend into the crowd of many, unique faces, of all races and backgrounds; you could be anonymous, if you wanted. You could be free.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here in Jortho. You had been with the Refugee Relief Movement for the better part of what felt like forever, and they had transferred you to this planet not six weeks ago. You were out on rotation; the RRM sends someone new twice a cycle for the span of a month or two to varying locations to supply rations, aid with the influx of refugees, organize resettlement lodgings, and generally be of assistance when and where you could. However, your tenure on this temperate planet was coming to a close, and soon you’d be flying back to the headquarters on Coruscant before being bounced to another post somewhere out among the stars. 

You love your job. You know it’s unpopular to say, but you do. It’s fulfilling and impactful and indescribably special. The individuals you meet, the stories you hear, they’re invaluable— priceless and precious, like handmade trinkets crafted by the fingers of a child; you press them all to your heart, holding them there. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get to you— the weight of it; the plights of all of these people, all of these lives, burdening your conscience. It isn’t always painless— you aren’t immune to it. Even so, on most nights you manage to sleep easy, tucked away aboard the transport freighter you flew in on with the batch of settlers newly assimilated into town knowing Maker, at least you were doing something— anything— everything you could.

And really, to call Jortho a town would be an insult to all towns everywhere—but ‘town’ has a certain charm to it that ‘refugee camp’ simply did not, and it gave the people hope. Pride, even. That they belonged somewhere.

You suppose that’s all anyone wants. To belong. 

A feather soft gust of wind tickles the golden blades of prairie grass as the sun, bleary and tired, starts dipping from the sky. The crickbeets begin their song early, trilling, sensing Lothal’s moons still coyly tucked away, hiding somewhere along the horizon. A smile adorns your face, private and serene, as you bring a bowl of broth up to your lips, humming when the warm liquid meets your tongue. You sigh, contented, taking in the sights before you; how the dusk blurs the aromatic air, making it opaque, the shuttles docked across the way from you casting long purple shadows onto the flat plains, the snowcapped mountains in the distance bordering the cant of the planet’s surface, nestling Jortho in a shallow valley.

You feel calm, at peace, and take another sip.

An easy moment passes, and it’s the last one you get before silence stalks up from behind you.

You don’t notice it at first, like any patient predator, it goes undetected: the white noise, the nothingness— until finally, you do and then suddenly it’s everywhere. On top of you. Smothering you. Goosebumps stipple your skin and you bristle. The insects have stopped chirping. The breeze has stilled. The air hangs dead. 

And then—

Chaos.

You’re hit with a blast of crushing heat, the sheer power of it picking you up off your feet and onto your side, sending your body careening into a nearby structure. Your shoulder takes most of the blow, but your neck still snaps backwards unnaturally, the back of your head colliding with the stone wall behind you with a dull thwack. You let out a groaned cry at the impact, the wind knocked out of your lungs as you crumple to the ground.

For an instant, your vision goes white, stars popping and fusing out in front of your pupils, and it’s like you can feel everything and nothing all at once, hollow but overwhelmed, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift asleep— Maker that would feel like a luxury, just right here on the damn dirt. And you almost do, you almost let yourself slip under and sink— until you hear a piercing scream from somewhere close. 

Immediately your eyes shoot open, desperately blinking away the blurriness that threatens to over take them, and you try pushing yourself up by the heels of your scraped hands, failing once - twice - before finding your footing. You’re shaky at first, uncoordinated and dizzy and redownloading bipedalism, before that sweet drug of adrenaline starts to course through your veins and finally, finally, you take in your surroundings. 

The ships that once stood across the field are gone, obliterated, and in their place only metal ribcages remain—empty carcasses like dead birds splayed on their backsides, imploded from the inside out, their bits strewn all around you. 

Your breathing comes hard and heavy, fighting down panic, and cloudy eyes search through the thick black smoke billowing up in stacks, trying to pin point the source of the scream you’d heard just moments ago. You cough a strained wheeze, sputtering against the charred air, and wade your way through the debris— it’s only then that you realize the magnitude of the explosion. It’s not just the landing bay, it’s half the kriffing village. The buildings that neighbored the airfield had been decimated, burning roofs and crumbling fixtures, homes collapsing onto themselves, scorch marks and shrapnel branding the outsides of the shanties left standing.

It looks like a battlefield. You’ve seen holovids of this—what war can look like, how it can ruin a people… But you’ve never had to stand in the middle of it, head on. 

Your heart drums against your chest as you break into a hobbled run, desperately scanning the area for any signs of life, up and down, left and right, straining against the waning daylight. It’s then that you hear your name, urgent and frantic, and you whip your head in it’s direction, knees nearly buckling in relief. You immediately recognize your friend Hareem, brandishing her arms at you, waving you over to her. 

“Thank the Maker, you’re alright!” the Balosar cries out, trembling hands finding purchase on your shoulders, bracing you. You don’t know if its for your benefit or her own, but either way you’re grateful for the grounding pressure; for the first time since the initial blast, you feel solid, like you won’t just float away, atomized and weightless. Worried, you look her over. A sliver of fresh scarlet blooms from her scalp, a small line trickling down past her temple, but she otherwise looks relatively unharmed. You grasp onto her wrist, squeezing firmly.

“What the hell happened?” You ask, voice low and pitched, wide fearful eyes drilling into her.

“T-There was a man-” And she shakes her head, mouth clamping shut, deep wrinkles framing her face.

“Hareem,” you reassure, giving her another squeeze. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

She tries again with a steadying inhale, “I-I saw him. A-a man. He had a device with him, and he set charges, and Maker I don’t know— I don’t know— it went off a-and he ran towards the center of town!” The Balosar is in hysterics, tears spilling down her dirty cheeks, and it takes your brain a moment to catch up, to wrap your mind around the words she’s stuttering out. 

A man. 

Device. 

Charges.

A bomb. This wasn’t an accident; this was an attack—and he’s still kriffing here. You cup her cheeks, thumbs rubbing against the pale skin, smearing away the blood that’s nearly dripped to her chin. Your friend’s gaze is flighty, everywhere and nowhere, and you try giving her a smile, but you’re not quite sure you manage it.

“Hareem? Hareem. Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re alright…” You peel your eyes off her to glance around hurriedly. “We need to find cover.”

///

You’re holed up in one of the few remaining homes on this side of the encampment, crowded into the small space with three other survivors. All four of you, packed in and silent and petrified. Unsure of any further threat, you stay completely still. Helpless. Laying here, idle, for whatever awaits you behind that feeble, wooden door. You feel like prey for the wicked, just passing the time.

Minutes inch along like this—or maybe its hours; time moves eerily different when you’re attempting to become invisible—and eventually, you almost begin to relax.

Almost.

But a new sound breaks the din, hard to recognize at first, indistinct from all the commotion outside their hut, but you hear it. You all do. The youngest of you, a teenaged Devaronian, grips onto the hem of your shirt, knuckles creasing with anticipation. You tense, spine going rigid. Footsteps. They’re slow, guarded, but they’re getting closer. You bring an arm up, for all the good it’ll do, creating a human shield in front of the boy at your side. Closer. Someone behind you muffles a whimper. Closer. A Bardottan you hadn’t even met until today let’s out the faint whisper of a prayer, lips barely ghosting over the phrases. Closer- 

and then, nothing.

They’re here. You can sense him, see his shadow sweep across the gaps in the entryway. You all hold your breath, as if the air is being syphoned out of the space… And the door is flung open, nearly breaking off it’s hinges as it slams into the inside of the house, shuttering the rickety walls with a jarring bang. 

You don’t know who looks more astonished: you four, or the Mandalorian before you, dripping head to toe in silver plated armor, pointing a blaster directly at your head.

“Where is he?” He asks, hard edged and modulated, and it’s more of a demand than a question—but he lowers his weapon all the same, holstering it at his side. You gape at him, guppying wordlessly. “Volcur X’elo. The bomber. Where?” He hasn’t moved an inch out of the doorframe but he’s still managing to loom over you, completely filling up the archway, shoulders set and impossibly intimidating.

You gulp, finally finding your voice. “In town, i-in the center of town…” Kriff, you had not idea if that intel was good or not, but it’s all you think to say. Seeming satisfied with your answer he turns on his booted heel, cape whipping behind him, leaving just as soon as he arrived. The dust barely has time to settle as the door teeter’s on its hinge, its rusty squeaks filling the void in the Mandalorian’s wake.

“Fuck,” you hiss, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, doubling forward, propping your palms up on your knees.

///

After deliberating it with your group, you all come to the agreement of braving it outside. Better to be out under the open sky than die under a concaving apartment, clambering over each other to get to the exit. After all this, at least your dignity was still partially in tact— normally, you reckon you’d chuckle dryly at that. But you don’t. 

Can’t. 

You lead the pack through the mazelike streets. The sights that once seemed so familiar after weeks of living here become like strangers to you, and you sleepwalk through Jortho, snaking down paths marred by rubble and fallen wreckage— you haven’t seen any bodies, but maybe that isn’t true. Maybe you’re just too scared to notice them. Maybe they’re there, hovering just outside of your peripherals, haunting the corners of your vision… 

You keep your head fixed forward, jaw clenched.

Your feet move on their own like this, only vaguely aware that the red-skinned boy still hadn’t let go of your tunic. You forge on. Have to. You have to. Your only purpose on this kriffing planet was to help these people, to bring them aid, and if that means simply planting one foot in front of the other, then so be it. You take side alleys, double backing here and there, ducking under canopies, looping around yourself, only stopping when you catch a glimpse of beskar, the orange setting sun glinting off the surface of his helmet.

And he’s not alone.

You freeze suddenly, as do the rest, and the Devaronian bumps into you, stumbling under his lanky legs. Some paces in front of you, the bounty hunter has the other man, this Volcur X’elo, by a punishing grip on his shoulders, shoving him forcefully out in front of him; his wrists are bound and he’s fitful without the stabilization of his arms, his feet staccatoed and flailing wildly beneath him as the Mandalorian marches him forward. 

The wind shifts, and on it you can hear the bomber rant madly, only catching snippets of the vile nonsense that spews from him.“- like swine, they are a plague to the system! And they must be purged from this planet, and the next, and the next— every last filthy one!” You spare a glance to Hareem, to find her watching the scene in hypnotized horror, but your eyes snap back at the sound of something maniacal, drawing your attention. It’s laughter. The zealot begins to laugh a twisted, mocking cry that makes you want to vomit. “You might have me in binders Mandalorian, but you’re too late. You’re too late. This isn’t over!” He’s practically giggling, gleeful and demented. Disturbed. “You’ve only found one.”

Your blood runs cold. 

Only one? Oneoneoneone, one what-

The realization hits you with a punch to your gut. He’s only detonated one of his bombs. Somewhere, nearby, there must be another.

Without another word, the Mandalorian whips the smaller man around, pulling him sharply by his collar to collide with his breastplate, completely dwarfing him with his beskar frame. “Where is it, X’elo?” Nothing. Only laughter. High pitched, terrible roars. He tries again, patience ebbing. “The bomb. Now.” X’elo’s head tilts back and he howls another crowing shriek, keeping private his own sick joke, as if clutching a secret to his chest with slimy hands. 

The bounty hunter had heard enough. He clearly wasn’t getting anything more out of him, and with a quick strike, he rears his blaster and pistol whips the terrorist with it. The body drops. Volcur X’elo crumples, unconscious, blood streaming from where he was struck. You hear the Bardottan behind you stifle a cry with her fist. 

And with that, Lothal’s sun disappears completely, stealing away the last of it’s light as it furls into itself, shrinking out of sight. The dark ushers a new wave of dread, creeping over Jortho like a miasma, poisoning the very air.

The Mandalorian wheels around, searching for his heading in the labyrinth of the town. Others have gathered now, poking their heads around corners, stealing glimpses through windows. He turns, his head on a swivel. “Where is your power generator?” he demands, addressing the small crowd, but you’re all too stunned to speak. “Anybody. Generator. Now.” There’s something new in his voice, something muddled, and it takes you a moment to interpret it. It’s desperation, you realize, tinny and deep through his vocoder, and with a surge of adrenaline you move forward, furthering yourself from your group. You swallow. “I-Its this way.” Upon hearing your voice, he spins around, his visor latching on to you, and with a nod you both set out. 

“Watch him,” the Mandalorian growls past his shoulder, stepping over the bounty’s limp body.

///

You’re still not really sure how he knew where it’d be, you wonder to yourself, gravel crunching under foot as you both trudge on, an eery quiet settling over them. You’d say it was a lucky hunch, but judging by the way the Mandalorian carries himself, you doubt luck had much to do with it. 

You had led him to the power generator hub on the other side of the sad excuse for a city, traveling in tense silence, and when you came upon that tall, bulky machine he sprang into action, circling it until he found what he was looking for. The bomb. You stood back, rooted there, and after some grunting and rewiring— or maybe he just hacked at it with a vibroblade, you had no idea; his wide frame engulfed his work and you couldn’t tell what he was up to, all you knew was that his methods proved successful— the man managed to disarm the second device. You had thought you noticed his shoulders release, slumping with relief, after the red flashing lights on the rudimentary interface flickered and then went dark.

And so here you are. The two of you, bathed in the bright light of Lothal’s twin moons, their bellies hanging full in the blue-black night, illuminating the trail of blood staining the dirt beneath your boots as the Mandalorian roughly drags the body by his ankle behind him— through the exploded rubble, through the fragmented lives of the people around you, already displaced and estranged. They’ll all have to move, you think, pack up their lives, or what little is left of them, and relocate. Again. The thought sinks in you like a stone, sobering you. 

Even with the weight of a fully grown man to lug, the bounty hunter is still a few long strides in front of you and your eyes are trained on the unconscious form, taking in the way his mouth lolls open like an animal, his hair matted with thick blood, eyes rolled back into his head. You’re talking out loud before you even realize it.

“How sick do you have to be,” you mumble, transfixed. Your voice, it’s not angry; no, shock has effectively robbed you of that— it’s not anger, but bewilderment. Quivering, broken bewilderment.

“H-How hoodwinked and warped you’d have to be, how disturbed... For you to think like that. To do all... all this...” 

“Hey,” his gruff voice shakes you from your trance, and you blink up at him, tearing your eyes off the body. “Focus,” he urges, and you can only nod dumbly back at him, suddenly feeling a ripple of nausea slither through you.

The ramp to his ship is lowering as they come upon it and you plant yourself at the base, feet seeming to stop on their own accord, and frankly you’re not really sure why you’ve even followed him this far in the first place— always a step behind him as he hauled his bounty all the way through the vestiges of Jortho, across the arid prairie to where he first touched down. Maybe it’s because you feel untethered, unmoored, and all of his steeled surety is like a lighthouse, a beacon, guiding you away from the rocks. 

He heaves X’elo up the ramp and you’re left standing there, staring unseeingly into the durasteel, becoming more and more aware of the ringing in your ears. The longer time passes, the more it’s as if you’re underwater, the background blurring into the foreground, sound gargled and far away. A high pitched buzz pinches your ear drums, and it takes you a moment to realize the Mandalorian is calling out to you, trying to get your attention.

“— Dala.”

Does he sound annoyed? Kriff, you think he might... If you had your wits about you, you might be able to recognize it. But as it stands, you don’t. You’re not here, not all of you. You’re splintered. Suspended.

“Hmm? Sorry, what..?” Your mouth is as dry as Jakku— parched desert tongue darting across your cracked lip, tasting soot and ash and something metallic. Brow furrowed, you touch a shaky finger to the flesh and when you pull it back, crimson red dots your skin. 

Oh, you think, numb. Huh. 

Your eyes skitter back up to the Mandalorian, towering over you, nearly at the apex of the incline, and his stance is broad and his fists are clenched. You’re almost positive he’s glaring down at you through his visor, and you don’t even know the man, can’t even see his damn face, but you can tell he’s peeved— Maker, just how long had you been ignoring him?

A scratched noise comes through his helmet’s vocoder and his next words are clipped, punctuated. “I said, do you have a way off this skug hole?”

[aebi12]

"Resentment" - Chapter 13 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12

Masterlist of my other works.

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blue is the collar of the shirt of the man I love He's hard at work, hard to the touch But warm is the body of the girl from the land he loves My heart is soft, my past is rough

She dreams again about that night in Driftmark.

With the sound of the knife blade tearing flesh.

With blood bubbling and falling to the ground.

With young Aemond's cry of pain.

Aemond.

When she finally opens her eyes, tangled in the sheets and drenched in sweat, it is the prince's name that she still whispers.

Morning growls from across the room, clearly sensing her discomfort.

“It is okay, it is okay,” she says quietly. The dragoness flies to the side of her bed, snuggling next to her, calming her fluttering heart with her warm skin, and slowly fading the memories from years ago evoked in her nightmare.

Rhaena stands up and orders out the maids who appear a while later, wanting to get ready by herself that morning.

“Just prepare the bathtub and leave. Water as hot as you can get it.”

“As you wish, Lady Rhaena.”

Once she is finally alone, she enters the bathtub and delights in the warm water, closing her eyes and trying to clear her mind. Trying not to think about anything at all. Definitely not on that night of her mother's funeral and certainly not on Aemond.

If you hadn't fallen for his provocation and tried to push him, perhaps he would still have his eye.

The thought paralyzes her for a moment.

No. No. She will not feel guilty about that fight. It hadn't been her fault, she couldn't blame herself for that event.

You were the one who started the confrontation. If you had been braver like he told you...

Rhaena cuts off that line of thought and steps out of the bathtub, rushing to dry her body and dress in one of the more comfortable outfits she used to wear in the Vale. Morning flies to her shoulders as the girl heads towards the door, ready to take a walk to calm her still anxious state.

It's not so early in the morning, but there are few courtiers who have already woken up, most of them probably still in bed after the excesses of the previous night. Rhaena is grateful not to encounter familiar faces, preferring to spend some time alone.

Her feet guide her towards the castle's godswood, which looks deserted as always, the gods of the heart trees watching her as she sits on their roots.

“You are getting bigger and heavier,” she says to the dragoness, who flies around, sniffing the air, “Soon I will have to take you to the Dragon Pit,” she sighs and extends her hand, calling to Morning, who approaches and allows her to caress her pink scales. Rhaena lowers her voice until it becomes almost a whisper, “Do not tell anyone, but our cousin is right. You will be better attended with the dragon keepers than with me.”

The dragon growls, but Rhaena stops paying attention when the doors open to reveal Criston Cole. Astonished, the young woman watches the knight approach with reluctance, his eyes carefully watching Morning, who once again takes her place on her shoulders.

“Lord Commander”

“Lady Rhaena,” the man bows his head, “The queen dowager asked me to deliver this to you personally.”

The man extends a small trunk in her direction. Rhaena stands up and takes it, opening it and finding beautiful white linen fabrics inside.

“Her grace thought that you would want to personally embroider your bridal goods.”

Oh.

“Queen Alicent is very thoughtful, please, Ser Criston, convey my thanks to her.”

“Of course, my lady.”

The man bows again and leaves, allowing Rhaena to let out a breath and return to her heart tree.

The girl pulls out the scraps of fabric and feels the softness on her fingers, wondering what she could embroider on them. It is not that a task that particularly motivates her, but knitting is something she is quite good at, and will surely help clear her mind, something she desperately needs. Maybe she could…

"Cousin!"

Her thoughts are interrupted a second time, this time by Daeron Targaryen.

“Daeron?” Her eyebrows raise in his direction and a smile forms on her lips, “I did not know you were back already.”

“I arrived at the Fortress this morning,” the prince sits next to her.

Rhaena nods, “I assume you successfully completed your mission in the Riverlands.”

“It was nothing too complicated,” he shrugs, downplaying it, “I would have liked to return sooner, but the Tullys insisted that I make my way back to the capital with them.”

“They came here for the wedding, I imagine.”

“Indeed,” the prince smiles at her, “The most important celebration in the kingdom.”

Rhaena giggles nervously and her hands squeeze the fabrics. Daeron looks down at them, confused, “What is that supposed to be?”

“Part of my bridal goods,” she responds with another sigh, “It is customary for every bride to embroider the details.”

"Oh yeah? And what do you plan to embroider?”

“Well…” Rhaena tilts her face, “My initials and your brother's, for starters. It is the most classic pattern. I guess I could also embroider a green dragon similar to Vhagar”

"A dragon?" he lets out a whistle, “It sounds complicated. Are you good at embroidery?”

“Pretty good, modesty aside,” she responds with a smug smile.

Daeron nods, “If so, I am sure my brother will be pleased. He loves that old dragoness fiercely, besides…”

The prince seems hesitant and Rhaena rests her eyes on him, urging him to continue, “Besides?”

“Our sister Helaena used to embroider all the time,” he says finally.

The comment takes her by surprise. "I did not know that”

“Yes, she… she used to send me her elaborate designs all the way to Oldtown. They were usually bugs, or intricate but very detailed patterns. Most of the time I couldn't understand what they meant, but they were beautiful. I know she embroidered for Aegon and Aemond too.”

Rhaena simply nods, her mind conjuring up the figure of her late cousin, her face serene and friendly, her voice sweet. “I wish I had known her better,” she says candidly.

“Me too,” Daeron admits, “I wish I had spent more time with her. I wish I could have done more for her.”

She doesn't know what to say, but she doesn't have to think too much, because her cousin speaks again.

“Have you made your peace with the idea of ​​marrying my brother?” he asks, evidently wanting to change the subject.

“It is a great honor to marry Prince Aemond,” she responds mechanically.

“You can be honest with me, you know?”

“I am telling the truth,” she assures him, trying to sound as convincing as she can, holding her gaze and smiling, “I am glad I can join my life to the prince in marriage”

Daeron giggles and shakes his head, clearly not believing her, but he doesn't press her any further.

“Why are you here alone anyway? Where is Lady Marianne?”

She is… she is busy this morning”

"How come?"

Rhaena suppresses a small smile, “Ser Simon Dondarrion invited her to walk around the city.”

“Dondarrion? From the Stormlands?”

“That is the one,” she nods.

“I do not know him,” a look of confusion settles on his handsome face, “Is he new to court?”

“He arrived just a few days ago, but he got along very well with Marianne at the party yesterday. They danced together for a long time.”

Rhaena examines her cousin's face, looking for any sign of jealousy or discomfort, although hos expression remains somewhere between confused and thoughtful, which does not reveal much.

“Ah yes, Lady Blackwood's party, I heard it was splendid,” he finally responds after a few seconds of silence.

“It was…” Rhaena thinks of the right word, her brow furrowing as the events of the previous day flash through her mind, “it was full of unexpected things.”

“It is a shame I missed it, although I have the consolation of being able to enjoy the banquets for your wedding.”

“The most important celebration in the kingdom,” she responds sarcastically, using his words from a while ago. Daeron laughs and Rhaena rolls her eyes, although she ends up laughing too, “Speaking of my wedding, are you planning to participate in the tournament?”

“It is what I want, yes. Although my brother Aemond is not very pleased with the idea”

“Does he consider it very dangerous?”

“Which I consider an insult to my ability,” he responds with a confident smile.

“Well, my prince, I hope I can enjoy your talents in the jousts.”

“And I hope I can count on the favor of the bride of Westeros.”

“Oh that won't be possible for I must save my favor for my lord husband,” she responds in a solemn tone.

“My brother Aemond will hardly participate in a tournament in his honor,” he replies, “But I understand your refusal, my lady.”

Rhaena laughs before speaking, “You could ask Marianne to give you her favor.”

“Yes, I suppose I could,” he admits, smiling, “If she doesn't give it to Ser Simon Dondarrion first.”

After saying that, the prince stands up, “I must go, cousin, the council awaits me.”

“Of course,” Rhaena agrees and, at his cousin's request, extends her left hand so he can place a soft kiss on it.

Daeron smiles at her one last time before leaving the godswood. Rhaena hurries to put the fabrics into the chest and calls to Morning, who returns to her shoulders, “Come on, dear, we have things to do too.”

***

Rhaena follows the Keep's butler through damp, uncrowded, dimly lit hallways.

After having left Morning with her caretakers and the chest in her room, she has decided to carry out the mission entrusted by Aemond for the Faith. So, she had sent for the royal butler, who had quickly come to meet her, already instructed by the prince about her task.

“This place is pretty cold,” she comments, holding back a shiver.

“The temperature helps preserve the jewelry better, my lady.”

The man stops in front of a heavy iron door that is guarded by two guards. After letting them know of the prince's order, the men open the door and Rhaena can enter.

The place is huge, made up of numerous shelves and very long corridors full of objects made of gold, silver and precious stones, as well as tapestries, books and ornaments.

“Do you have any idea what you are looking for, my lady?”

Rhaena looks around again and shakes her head, “Jewels, maybe. Show me the jewels of the royal family”

The man guides her to the numerous objects accumulated by her ancestors and Rhaena spends a good time looking at them, calculating their value and choosing those she deems suitable to gift to the Faith.

“Separate everything I selected and wait for my instructions before sending them to the High Septon.”

After that, Rhaena returns to her room, where she finds only her maids.

“The lady Marianne has not returned yet?” ask Cyndi

“No, my lady, but she asked us to tell you that the Master of the Coin asked her to have lunch together.”

“Oh, right, I understand,” she replies and sighs.

Not knowing exactly what to do, not wanting to take a walk on the gardens or embroider, her eyes scan her room and land on the copy of “Stories of the Long Winter Night.” She had finished her reading the night before after returning from the party. The northern stories had managed to make her forget, for a long time, the words of the Baratheon sisters and the intrigues of Lord Tarly.

Without much thought, Rhaena stands up and takes the book, clutching it to her chest and leaving in the direction of the Tower of the Hand. She is not certain whether she will find her cousin there and it probably would have been more appropriate to return the book with a servant, but against her better judgment, she prefers to do so personally.

He gave you a responsibility to the Faith, you are expected to report to him.

Feeling more at ease with her reasoning, she announces her arrival to the guards, who let her pass.

“Cousin,” she greets, entering the familiar chamber, where Aemond is once again sitting at his desk, reading some scrolls.

“Rhaena.”

His eye takes off for a brief moment from the scroll and the young woman feels his gaze examining her up and down before landing on her face, causing her heart to suddenly skip a beat.

“I…uh…” she stammers, suddenly not knowing what to say.

Rhaena tilts her gaze and clears her throat before facing him again, although she prefers to focus her eyes on the scrolls on the desk, “I wanted to tell you that I visited the royal treasury and chose various silver embroidered tapestries to be given to the great sept.”

"Very well"

“Since I thought the Crown should be generous, I decided to also add four gold vessels and a necklace from the royal family.”

“What necklace?”

“One with a strange spider-shaped pendant, I found it quite odd so…”

“You can dispose of the vessels, but do not touch the necklace.”

His response, the harsh tone of his voice alerts her. Rhaena looks up at Aemond, but he is the one who refuses to look at her now. His expression, however, speaks volumes, his shoulders tense, his hand clenched into a fist, and his jaw clenched.

Rhaena wants to ask what is so special about that necklace, but she just stays silent and nods.

“Of course, there was a chandelier inlaid with rubies that the high septon would surely appreciate.”

"Hmm"

There is a moment of awkward silence in which she simply remains standing, shifting her body weight from one foot to the other, until her cousin speaks again.

“Did you finish your reading?”

“Ah, yes,” Rhaena sighs, “Actually, I also came here to return the book.”

Aemond nods and Rhaena walks over to his desk to place the book on the wooden surface, “I thought it would take you longer to read it.”

“The story completely grabbed me,” she admits, adding, “And no, it did not affect my sensibilities.”

“Mmm,” this time Aemond tilts his face and his good eye meets her gaze, “I did not take you for a lady who valued these kinds of lore.”

Rhaena smiles, “It was fascinating reading about the Others,” she bites her lip, debating whether to continue or not. The prince's gaze wanders to her mouth for just a few seconds, but enough to once again provoke that annoying feeling of electricity inside her. Her mind screams at her that it is better to leave, but her body is faster than her, making her sit in the free chair in front of him and speaking, “Do you believe it is true? That at some point there was that kind of magic and death?”

“Our dragons are essentially magic, right?”

“Well yes, but these ice demons…” she frowns, “They sound like a formidable threat.”

Aemond watches her with an expression that seems half fascinated and half amused, “Do not worry, cousin, our dragons can surely protect us from them, if they really exist.”

Rhaena rolls her eyes and slumps into the chair, her hand fiddling with the butterfly necklace. Aemond stares at her for a few seconds before standing up and walking towards one of the shelves in the walls. She follows him with her gaze and frowns as he pulls out another heavy volume, stroking the spine with his long fingers before turning and walking towards her, sitting on the edge of the desk by her side.

“So you can continue with your education,” he says in his whispery tone of voice, holding out the book to her

“The Mysteries of Skagos Island,” she reads aloud, noting the strange designs on the leather cover.

“Stories of a septon who tried to bring the faith of the seven to the inhabitants of the Bay of Seals”

“Did he succeed?”

“I guess you will have to read it to find out.”

The beginning of a smile appears on the prince's face and Rhaena suppresses one of her own, preferring to nod, "Very well, but I warn you that it will probably take me longer to finish this one."

"Why?"

“Your mother thought it appropriate to send part of my bridal goods so I could embroider it.”

 “Did she?”

“Yes, I am thinking about embroidering green dragons next to our initials.”

“How creative”

“Your brother Daeron thought it was appropriate.”

“Yes, I imagine so.”

“He asked my favor for the competitions, although he said that you did not want him to participate in the jousts.”

The prince just looks at her, “And will you give it to him?”

Rhaena ignores his question, “Are you afraid that he will overshadow you with his abilities?”

“I can beat my little brother without problems,” he replies after making a face.

“Does that mean you will compete?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Hmm, looking forward to becoming a young widow again?”

Rhaena can't help but giggle, “I would cry for you for a couple of days, if something were to happen to you.”

To her surprise, her cousin smiles and there is no trace of sarcasm in the gesture.

“It is a shame you are busy since I was thinking of asking you to supervise the accommodations of the guests.”

“I can take care of it,” she says, excited at the prospect of new responsibility.

“Perhaps it would be wise for someone else to take charge.”

“No, no, I can do it,” she nods vehemently, “In fact, I am best suited for the task. I will personally make sure the guests are comfortable.”

"If you say so"

Rhaena seems to sense a condescending tone in his response, but she decides to let it go. Pushing the heavy chair away, she stands, straightening the folds of her dress. Her cousin hasn't moved, so when Rhaena bends down to take the new book, her hand accidentally brushes against the prince's.

There is a moment of hesitation from both of them, who lower their gaze to where their hands remain next to each other. Their skins are barely connected, yet Rhaena feels a tingle where they touch. And neither of them makes any move to separate.

Wondering if he is experiencing the same thing, Rhaena meets his gaze, which is a mistake because she finds intensity in his bright blue eye. Her gaze goes down his straight nose to his thin lips whose arch forms a perfect v, how had she not noticed that before? Frowning, Rhaena restrains her sudden urge to raise her free hand and trace the outline of his lips. What would it feel like to touch them?

He kissed the four of us and chose me.

The memory of those words comes to her mind like a bucket of cold water, reminding her of yesterday’s conversation. Of her doubts. Her curiosity is once again powerful, because the words leave her lips before she has time to stop.

“I met your former betrothed yesterday at the party.”

It is clear that her sudden comment surprises him. Aemond pushes his hand away and tilts his face to the side, his expression once again a mask of impassivity, “Oh yeah?”

Rhaena nods, “I did not know they were invited to the party.”

"Nor I"

His curt responses are a sign that it is best not to push, but she can't help herself.

“I guess it is appropriate considering they are allies of the Crown.”

Aemond makes a small noise of annoyance, “Will you also insist that I apologize to her? My mother has already made my duty very clear to me, I do not need you to repeat it. I will speak to the Lady Floris when I see fit."

The prospect of the prince being alone with Floris Baratheon provokes a very particular feeling of displeasure within her. And although her rational side tells her that Queen Alicent's suggestion is the most appropriate, Rhaena finds herself wanting to side with the prince and assure him that this time it is not necessary to strengthen those social relations.

“The lady Floris had a lot to tell yesterday. In fact, she pointed out something quite interesting”

Aemond fixes his good eye on her again, “What did she say?”

“She said… she said you kissed them. That you kissed the four sisters to know which one to choose as your betrothed."

 “Well, I had to choose one of them.”

“And you could not find a more suitable method to do it?”

“I did not have much time to get to know them. And I did not want to snub them."

The snide tone of his comment lights a fire inside her, “Couldn't you walk with them? Talk to them even?”

“Walk with them? You have clearly never been to Storm's End,” he smirks, “Besides, I did not have time to waste on them.”

“I do not believe you,” she replies, smiling sideways too, “Surely you use that as an excuse to justify having taken advantage of four beautiful ladies.”

“That is debatable.”

"What? Your basic instincts?”

“That they are beautiful,” he replies.

“Ah no, cousin, do not be petty,” she shakes her head, “There is no denying that the Baratheon sisters are very attractive.”

“Hmm perhaps,” there is a moment of silence before he speaks again, “Or perhaps I just find Valyrian beauty more attractive.”

His words spread a warmth inside her that she has never felt before. And when their eyes meet, the tickling sensation runs through her entire body, lighting up her cheeks and causing her breathing to hitch. Rhaena tries to breathe to calm herself, but the prince's scent reaches her. A smell too attractive for her taste. A mix of something citrus and wood. And Vhagar. Rhaena closes her eyes for a moment and, when she opens them, she is closer to her cousin than before. Had he perhaps moved? Her thoughts stop when Aemond's good eye drops to her lips, resting on them as her own tongue bathes his thin lips. Their gazes meet again for a moment and something seems about to explode between them.

But then a servant interrupts them, almost running into the room and bowing before them both.

Aemond clears his throat and Rhaena steps back, allowing reason to return to her mind. What in the seven hells had happened to her? The girl takes the book from the desk and hugs it to her body, as if protecting herself, while she places more distance between them.

“A message for you, Prince Aemond,” says the servant.

He glares at the boy and sends him away immediately as he breaks the seal and reads the contents. Rhaena is about to leave when his words stop her.

“Your sister's ship has just arrived at the port.”

“That means she will be arriving at the Fortress any minute now,” she comments, a feeling of relief and happiness filling her chest.

Aemond simply nods.

“I uh… I'll go wait for her.”

He doesn't respond, just turns his back on her.

And Rhaena is grateful for that.

***

“Are you sure you want me here?”

Marianne seems nervous, her gaze fixed on the Fortress gate.

“Yes, of course, I want you to meet my sister,” she assures.

Her friend smiles and squeezes her hand.

Fortunately, after leaving the Tower of the Hand, she had found Marianne on the way to her chambers. Rhaena had not been slow to break the news of her sister's soon arrival, not wanting Marianne to ask her about what she had done in her absence. Not wanting to tell her either of whatever it was that happened between Aemond and her.

“Tell me about ser Simon.”

“Well… he is funny, kind, very gallant”

"But?" Rhaena looks at her.

Marianne shrugs, “I think I could be happy with him, although my uncle Tyland doesn't approve.”

"Why not?"

 “He says that ser Simon is just a third child with no major prospects,” her friend sighs, “My father and aunt hope I found a better match. A lord, preferably. If not…"

"What?"

“He will arrange a marriage for me with Lord Reyne's heir.”

“But you would have to return to the West!”

“I would be lady of Castamere and live near my father,” she nods and sighs again, “I know he wants to give me the chance to find a husband I like, but I also know that the prospect of having me around is attractive to him. Not to mention that the Reyne are wealthy and noble.”

“No, no, no,” Rhaena denies, “You are not going to leave me. I prohibit it”

Marianne smiles, “We are not there yet.”

“And we won't get there. My cousin Daeron returned today. And he asked about you”

"Really?"

“Yes,” Rhaena agrees, “And he is also a third son, but he is a prince. And a dragon rider. Your uncle Tyland and your father will have to accept your union."

Marianne bursts into giggles and they continue talking until a carriage stops in front of them. Rhaena's heart races when the servant opens the door and the figure of her sister descends from inside.

“Baela!”

Rhaena doesn't give her sister time to take a step in her direction as she runs up to her, wrapping her in a tight hug and reveling in the feeling of being next to her twin.

“Finally!” she hears Baela whisper against her ear, “Rhaena, my love.”

A few involuntary tears bathe her face, but she hurries to wipe them away before breaking the hug and looking at her sister.

Baela seems the same as always. Her voluminous hair full of silver curls, her frank smile and her curious eyes examining her too.

“I missed you so much, Baela,” she says, joining their hands.

“I am here, I am here,” she responds, hugging her once again, “How are you? Have they hurt you?” she asks in her ear

“I am fine,” she assures her.

Baela cuts off the hug and wrinkles her nose, “You stink of dragon.”

“Yes,” Rhaena giggles as she wipes away another involuntary tear, “It is from Morning, my dragoness.”

"Of course"

Her sister's expression darkens for a moment, so Rhaena rushes to say, "I am sorry about what happened to Moondancer."

 Baela nods, “We fought together until the end”

“What about your injuries? You did not give me any further details in your letters, but I knew that you were burned by the dragon fire."

“It was just something minimal,” she says casually, “The one who got the worst of it was the Usurper, tell me, have you seen him?”

“The king,” Rhaena points out, opening her eyes in her direction before looking around her, “is still suffering from his injuries. And no, I have not seen him,” when her sister's expression turns pointed, Rhaena takes her hand and makes her walk alongside her, “I want you to meet my lady-in-waiting and my best friend in this place, Lady Marianne Westerling”

“It is an honor to meet you, lady Baela,” Marianne bows perfectly.

“Westerling? Vassal of the Lannisters?” she asks

“That is right, my lady.”

“Your house supported Aegon during the war,” her sister's voice is hard and cold, her eyes looking at Marianne disdainfully.

“Baela!” her twin scolds her

"I don't…"

“I wish to speak alone with my sister, Lady Marianne,” Baela interrupts her.

Marianne looks at Rhaena, who sighs and looks at her with suppressed embarrassment, “Could you give us a few minutes, Marianne?”

“Of course, I will see you later.”

“At dinner,” she assures her, “The dowager queen requested our presence tonight.”

Marianne nods and walks away. Rhaena waits for her figure to disappear before she turns to her twin.

“You could have been nicer.”

“You call her your friend; do you trust her?”

“Yes, I do,” she assures, “Marianne is not to blame for the actions of her household. She was younger than us when the war broke out, and it's not like the men around her had listened to her opinions."

Baela seems to consider her words and then looks around her, “I hate this place.”

Rhaena sighs and links their arms, walking together and entering the castle, “Tell me about you. Tell me about Driftmark, about Alyn. I would have liked to meet him, although I trust that he will come to the wedding

At the mention of the wedding, her sister's expression is one of fury, but Rhaena subtly shakes her head and Baela seems to understand that a hallway full of servants and courtiers who observe them with open curiosity is not the right place to talk about it.

“Alyn is fine, he is easy to get along with,” she replies, “He doesn't limit me or prohibit my hobbies, and most of the time he is at his meetings or at the shipyard, so I have quite a bit of freedom on the island.”

Freedom. The word causes a bitter feeling inside her, but she is quick to suppress the feeling.

“He did not want me to come here without him,” her sister continues, “He did not trust me to control my temper enough not to do something foolish.”

Rhaena stops and Baela too, “I think we both know you are capable of it,” she says, “Especially since it would be unwise to try anything against our cousins ​​in their castle, surrounded by their guards and allies.”

Their gazes meet and, once again, Baela relents, although she rolls her eyes.

“Anyway, he couldn't refuse when the kinslayer wrote to order him to send me here.”

“Well, I am glad we are together again,” she says, affectionately stroking her arm.

Baela smiles and unites their forehead for a moment before walking again, “Where are we going?”

“My chambers. I thought you might want to take a bath and get ready before dinner.”

Her twin sighs, “Do we need to eat with them?”

“Yes, the dowager queen insisted,” she responds, opening the doors to her room, “I didn't arrange a room for you because I would like us to sleep together these days.”

“I think it is a splendid idea,” Baela smiles, “Oh, this room is depressing.”

"I know" Rhaena laughs, “In the Vale I had a window that allowed me to see the most beautiful mountains and sunsets.”

“Tell me about the Vale”

Rhaena does that, filling her story with the most mundane details of her life with the Arryn while Baela takes a bath, and changes clothes.

“I would have gladly agreed to never see you again if it meant you would be safe in the Vale and not here,” Baela says as Rhaena finishes braiding her hair.

She doesn't know what to answer, so she remains silent.

“Don't you wish none of this had happened? Don’t you think about what our lives would be like if they hadn’t usurped Rhaenyra’s throne?”

“I wish for many things, Baela, but there is no use thinking about things that will not happen.”

Baela snorts, “Do not patronize me, we are alone here. Surely you can't feel at ease in this place, surrounded by enemies?”

“Exactly, Baela, we are surrounded by enemies,” she responds, “Remember that when we enter the dowager queen's chambers and please remain calm.”

“I do not know if I can do it,” Baela bites her lip hard, “I do not know if I can contain my desire for revenge if I see the kinslayer.”

Her words, so full of hate, fill her with anxiety. And Rhaena has the impulse to want to say something in Aemond's favor, but she holds back.

“Well you will have to,” she replies harshly, “Come, they are waiting for us.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

@ammo23 @qyburnsghost @niocel @ithoughtulikedme @avidreader73 @jenmakeusin10 @morninglia @missing-loki @soyotelol @iidontgiveafuckuniverse @gracelessbeach (let me know if you want to be tagged)

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[emperor-palpaminty]

CAN WE PLEASE GET A PT 2 FOR THE 41 KISS PROMPT W REX OML I CANNOT IT WAS GETTING SO GOOOOODD 😭😭😭😭

ISKSKS I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT

i will most defs do that for you love! am glad you've enjoyed it! I don't remember the exact dialogue so I just... Made it up???? Whoops

Part one is here!

You felt Rex's attention shift to you but you stood your ground, eyes pinned on Krell, the brilliant green shifting against the ever-present darkness rolling around your former master. You could feel it now- the haze of evil, the fog of the Dark Side rolling around him like a mist in a wood.

The captian's blasters were out in his hands and he stood even with you, voice calm but authoritative. "General Krell," He said, calmly. "You're under arrest."

Krell took in the sight of it all- you with your saber resting easily in your hands, Rex standing next to you with his guns drawn, the soldiers moving around you. "Under what charges?"

"Treason against the Republic." Rex moved closer to you, and you shifted your saber, feeling the comforting hum in your fingers.

The men closed in, eyes only on the traitor. Krell's lips pressed into a sneer, and his fingers flexed. "I feared you would say that-" You heard the Force stir before you felt it. "Clone."

The men tumbled back, Krell's sabers whipping out, pushing troopers away. The clone closest to the window crashed through, shattering the glass, and tumbled out, screaming.

You grounded yourself, skidding backwards as the pressure of the force pushed you back. Your head lifted long enough to catch Krell jumping out the shattered window. You stood, running to the ledge and glancing down, Rex behind you. "Kriff," You breathed, starting down. "I'll go directly after him. You take the elevator-"

"Hey," Rex reached out, bumping your arm with his fingers. You turned at looked at his visor, trying to discern some expression, some emotion from that emotionless helmet.

Instead, he drew his hand back, nodding. "Turn on your comm. The second you see him, tell me and wait-"

"No more of your brothers are dying today, Rex." You exhaled, moving back towards the ledge. "Not under my watch." Your breath caught, and you jumped back, tumbling, feeling the air whiz past your ears. You landed heavy, ankles screaming, the impact absorbed by the Force that dwelled around you.

You stood and ran, activating your lightsaber. "Men!" You yelled at a group of 212th troopers. "With me! Don't leave my sights."

You led them into the forest, thick with fog, the plants casting a dim glow on the breath of the twilight. You led the mem, stepping slow, your senses muffled by ringlets of the force around you. "Rex," You said, softly to your comm. "He's close. I can feel him."

"Hang on, General. We're close to you."

You exhaled, softening your voice. "I'll take care of your men. Just get here quick." You tugged your wrist away, saber humming with life.

A man screamed in the distance. You turned, eyes scanning for the familiar haze of blue and green. The sabers moved in violent arcs, aggressive, just as terribly powerful as you remembered him being when you were his padawan.

You ran ahead of the men, who were close to your tail, and you lept upwards, feet planting against foreign fauna, saber swinging. You struck down, just as violent as you had been taught, and two blades rose to meet you.

He swung, the duo of blades moving brilliantly, and you danced between them, twisting and rolling. The clones were yelling at one another in the comms, debating to fire or not, to shoot or not, in lieu of hitting the Jedi that they didn't want to hit.

You tumbled back, your blade still humming, and you glanced up at him, the grey dirt coating your vision. You stood, shakey, hands readjusting.

"My Padawan," Krell sighed, moving towards you. The words suffocated you, and you exhaled, feeling in the force for him- that betrayal earlier, your Captain, was replaced with worry. "You could have been a great service to the dark side." He walked towards you in an arc, and you mimicked it, circling each other slowly. "Instead, you chose some lab-created flesh droid with a hive mind. Does he even feel? Does he know the... Love?" Krell laughed, the sound grating your ribs. "You love him? My padawan is stupid. How unfortunate."

You spun the saber, stopping mid-circle. You began approaching him, head-on, each step a pump of your heart for him, his brothers- Rex. Fives. Jesse. Hardcase. Tup.

You sprinted, hearing Rex's voice in your comms, but the wind rushed past you and blocked his words. Your sabers clashed, and you snarled. "And my master has forgotten one thing-" The presence of Rex closened, pulsed, the fear filling as he heard your blades, your voices.

"And what is that?" Krell leaned in, his blades locked against yours.

You smiled as Rex and his men pushed into the clearing, their voices talking about the many aggressive living plants around the two of you. Your boot hit the rubbery root, and you stepped on it harder, feeling the hiss of the plant under you. "You taught me everything I know."

You shut off your saber and ducked, rolling away from him, and the vines rushing to meet you caught Krell's leg and yanked him up.

The men shot, firing, as you moved back, watching the Krell seeing wildly. You moved back towards Rex, watching him especially, and you get the fear transition to pride, admiration, even, as the General's sabers fell and he hit the ground, unconscious.

"Brilliant, General," Rex exhaled to you, watching his men hurry to cuff Krell.

You nodded, knees shaking, and you deactivated your saber, hand pressing to your thigh. A slow groan escaped your throat, a subtle burn spreading. "Rex-" You hissed, collapsing.

Rex turned instantly, body stiffening as you fell. He ran to you, rolling you over and looking at your thigh. "Kriff." He hissed. "Medic!" The pain in his voice was physical, wet, thick, more so than the pain in your body.

You felt him tug your head onto his arm. "Rex," You mumbled, the pain coursing rapidly in your muscles. "I think- when I-"

"Shh. You're going to be okay- Medic!" Rex stood, tucking you to him, and running to the straggling group of clones. "She's been hit."

Your leg stung, and your head lulled back, eyes catching the blue blurs of Rex's helmet before darkness consumed you.

___

When you came to, you had a very strong craving for tea. Your body felt sticky, thick, and you groaned and sat up. You glanced around at the pristine setting- the medical ward, you presumed, still on Umbara.

You kicked your legs over the aide of the bed and grimaced, knees popping at the use. Your upper leg felt mended, but the sutures were bruising your skin. You settled weight on it and emitted a hiss, shuffling towards the shower.

"You're up," Kix called. You turned, glancing back at the irritated medic. "If the Captain knew you were up-"

"Kix," you whined, leaning heavily on the closest bed frame. "I'm fine."

He gave an irritable grunt, holding out a folded pile of clothes. "You'd better be. Go shower. Do not-" He tugged the fabrics from your hands and you hummed, reaching for them. "I repeat, do not pull at the bacta pad or get it soaked. Damp is fine. Wet is not. Good?"

"Loud and clear." You snatched the clothes away.

"I'd better tell the boys you're up. They've been anxious. Especially-" The medic stopped, stumbling on his words

Your feet bumped into the doorframe of the refresher. "Especially... Who?"

Kid glanced up at you, eyes almost mirroring the Captian you hoped for, and he said, gently, with a grin on his lips, "I think you already know who."

___

When you emerged from the refresher, toweling off your hair, you heard a sharp intake of breath. "You're awake."

Your eyes snapped up, towel abandoned in your hands. "I am." Rex's voice held the same tenderness that had planted in your heard since the most recent tea ritual, rubbing your heart raw with the coarse affection that was running you over, again and again. "Are you alright?

Rex started towards you, eyes blazing with a compassionate intensity. "You need to be in bed."

You smiled gently, raising your hands in mock surrender, fighting to keep the searing pain of your wound at bay. "I'm getting there."

Rex met you halfway. He stooped and scooped you up, gently, far in less of a rush than he had been when you were openly injured and walked you towards your bed. "You know better, general." He scolded, softly. You didn't complain, opting to wind your fingers behind the nape of his neck and press your face softly against his jaw.

The captain exhaled a shaky breath. His hold tightened momentarily as he stopped by your cramped cot, turning his head and lowering his cheek against your skin. Your fingers intertwined and you pulled back, looking up at his face. The rolling surprise spread on his lips, his eyes, as he turned his head more against you, sitting down on the cot, simply cradling you.

You threw your arms around him entirely and allowed Rex to hold you- you shook, quietly, sobbing softly. "I'm so sorry, Rex, if I had sensed Krell-"

"No, no," Rex squeezed you gently, rocking now, smoothing a hand in your still-damp hair. "The Jedi Council didn't sense it. General Skywalker or General Kenobi didn't sense it, either. You can't blame yourself." The hand in your tendrils of hair moved to your cheek, the gloved fingers smoothing over the war-roughened skin. "You have done-" A crack in the foundation of his words, and his shoulders heaved. "More. More than I could ever ask anyone."

You bumped your forehead to him, holding his jaw in both your hands. "And I would do more." Especially for you.

Rex nodded, his hold tightening as he pulled you in again. The two of you sobbed- perhaps because of the losses, the shame of that responsibility, or perhaps you realized the unconditional depths of your love for the other, and it was something- even worse, someone- you could never truly have.

[asirensrage]

Caught in the Crossfire - 2/53

Title: Caught in the Crossfire Rating: M Pairings: Michelle (OC) x Sam side pairing: Kelly (OC) x Dean Fandom: Supernatural. Includes characters from BtvS, The Darkest Powers Series by Kelley Armstrong, True Blood, Veronica Mars, X-Men, Harry Potter Warnings: PTSD, trauma, violence, murder, loss of time, demonic possession, mentions of starvation, anger, slow burn, learning to fight and survive Summary: Takes place during s5. Michelle was just trying to gain some semblance of normality. She didn’t expect to be a part of a fail-safe for the apocalypse. Reuniting with her best friend who should be dead, she struggles with trying to survive this world while being forced into a position that has her taking care of others who also don’t belong. She just wants to go home.

Note: this chapter is from Kelly's POV. It's the only one in this fic. You can find more of Kelly's POV and others, in Freed by the Crossfire on ffn and ao3.

also on ffn and ao3

Chapter 2: Porch Talks (Kelly's POV)

There is no death only a change of worlds. - Chief Seattle

      It was just after sunset and I was sitting on the back deck of Bobby’s with a glass of whiskey in my hands, the rest of the half-full bottle beside me. I felt awkward asking Bobby to drink his booze but was pleasantly surprised when he told me to take the whole bottle. I guess he could see in my face that one glass wouldn’t do the trick.

         As the last of the daylight slipped away, my mind wandered. Part of me knew I should be more freaked out but I was oddly calm about my circumstances. I had spent most of the day being grilled by the boys and Bobby about my arrival here and the world I’d come from. It was a welcomed distraction from worrying about Michelle’s health, both physical and mental. I started to pour more into my glass when I heard the door open and close behind me, followed by footsteps that stopped beside me. From the corner of my eye, a well-worn work boot appeared. I followed it up a leg clad in beaten denim, to find Dean standing over me.

         “Mind if I join?” He waved an empty glass above my head before sitting down on the steps beside me. I passed him the bottle and he silently poured himself a generous glass. He took a long drink, watching me over the rim. “Did you know the silent staring is seriously unsettling?”

         I snapped out of my apparent stare, “sorry, I didn’t realize I was even doing it. I guess I’ve been doing it a lot, eh?”

         Dean laughed, “eh. Sorry. Hah. Guess you weren’t lying about being Canadian.” 

         I smiled back, “Nope. Sorry about the staring.”

         Dean laughed again, and I realized I’d dropped another sorry. I was being pretty damn Canadian. 

         “I keep forgetting people can actually see me. Before, I could stare at someone and zone out completely. No one could see me, so I seem to be missing the normal social cues of when to stop now.” 

         “You’ll figure it back out. Besides, we have Cas around, so we’re used to weird social ticks.” Dean grabbed the bottle and topped up my glass. We lapsed back into silence for a few minutes before he broke it again. “So, can I ask? What was it like being a ghost in your world that long?”

         It was my turn to take a long drink. I wanted to repress the last years. “Lonely.”

         “Lonely?” Dean raised his brow, giving me a look to continue.

         “Yeah and frustrating. I never encountered any other ghosts like me. Years of having no one to talk to. To help me understand why I was still around. Lonely. Helpless. I could see things happening, but couldn’t do anything to help anyone. Watching family and friends mourn you? It’s heartbreaking. I tried everything to show them I was still there, but couldn’t.” 

         I downed more of my drink and Dean wordlessly refilled it. I felt the warmth of the whiskey spread in my chest, and the compulsion to keep talking.

         “Being here. Being human. I’m happy, but I feel so fucking guilty to be happy while I see Michelle struggle. Happy.” I snorted and shook my head. “How fucked up is that?”

         “Not fucked up. You’re human. You’re not alone. Sounds like a good reason to be happy to me.” Dean gave me a half-hearted smile.

         “I was at that diner. I saw the aftermath of the demon that attacked Michelle. I didn’t know she was there at the time. She’s struggling, and dealing with that trauma, and I’m over here. Happy.” I raised my glass in a mock cheer before taking another long drink.

         “We’re going to help her, and you. Make this right. You have my word.” I looked at him making eye contact. He looked so sincere, I felt a new calmness wash over me.

         “I don’t even know what helping me looks like. I don’t want to go back to my world, not to be a ghost again.”

         “Then Sammy and I will help you make a life here, once this is all...sorted.”  He knocked my knee with his and smiled. A life here was a lot to consider. I would be human again. If Michelle could go home though, I’d still be alone, in a world where monsters were real, but at least I would be alive. 

         “Thank you. Can we keep this between us, for now? I need to be strong for Michelle, and whenever that day comes, if that opportunity comes, I don’t want her to know what my choice would be.”

         “Absolutely.”

         I wanted to change gears. Thinking too far in the future was bound to get my hopes up. Knowing this world, demons, angels and monsters, I could be dead again before I had a chance at another future. I drank more and Dean did the same. We lapsed into silence again, staring out at the scrap yard ahead of us.

         “Do you know how long she’ll be out with what Castiel did?” 

         “Cas said a couple of days. She’s in rough shape. He said he fixed the physical injuries, but the mental stuff...well even angels have their limits.” 

         I hadn’t seen Michelle in over a year in my world. The woman I saw here was not the same by a long stretch. Gaunt and haunted, I was still surprised I had recognized her in the panic room. My mind flipped back to the scene at the diner again. All that blood. The smell of burnt flesh…

         “You’re staring again” 

         I snapped out of my train of thought and realized I’d been staring directly at Dean. He didn’t seem bothered by it, probably used to it from Cas. “Thanks. Sorry again”.

         This earned me another half-smile, “stop being so Canadian.”

         I laughed a genuine laugh and felt a little of the weight lift off my chest. Dean grabbed the bottle to pour more for both of us, and we both realized it was nearly empty. Seeing the bottle so empty I recognized a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time. “Uh oh.”     “I’m sure Bobby has more.” Dean stood up to head back into the house, but I stopped him by grabbing his pant leg.

         “No, not that. I haven’t had a drink in years, and now I had a few glasses of straight whiskey. On a mostly empty stomach. I think I’m drunk.”

         Dean laughed “okay, lightweight.” He offered a hand and pulled me up. I swayed slightly as my world refocused, and he steadied me with a hand on my waist. My mind focused on the touch. Another thing I missed as a ghost was human touch. It felt so good. I must have been staring at his hand as he moved it and mumbled an apology.

         “I think I should go to bed. After I chug some water.” 

         “Probably a good idea.” Dean motioned for me to lead the way back into the house. 

         I grabbed a glass of water and said goodnight to everyone. I stumbled up the stairs and headed up to the bedroom to pass out.

         It was the second day at Bobby’s and I was sitting on the porch again. I had spent part of the day reading, but soon realized I couldn’t help much with research, given a lot of it was in Latin. Jane was staying in the basement to keep watch over Michelle and I was restless. I didn’t know what else to do but sit outside. Feeling the sun on my face, and enjoying being human again felt like the only thing I could do. 

         “We have to stop meeting like this.” Dean sat down on the step beside me, two beers in hand. He cracked one open and passed it to me before opening his own.

         “Trying to get me drunk again?” I smiled as I took a swig of the ice-cold beer. 

         “Seems like you might have needed it, but figured you wouldn’t want to look at whiskey right now.”

         He wasn’t wrong. I’d woken up that morning with a pounding headache and a rolling stomach. “I did not miss hangovers as a ghost.”

         “Little hair of the dog, and you’ll be fine.” I was silent but could feel Dean watching me, assessing. “Cas says Michelle seems better. She could wake up soon.” 

         “That’s good. Any luck with the research?”

         “Nothing solid yet. Cas is back out looking for more, like you guys.”

         “Bobby will love that. More of us crammed in his space.” 

         “We’re working on that too.” Dean turned to lean against the porch post facing me. “So, you said we’re a TV show where you’re from, huh?”

         I appreciated the change in topic and smiled, “yeah, very loyal...but small following.” 

         Dean nodded his head smiling, “loyal you say?”

         “Yup, some fans even have the tattoo.” I nodded my head at his chest.

         “Do you?” Dean’s eyes scanned what skin I had visible and I felt myself blush. Blushing was another thing I did not miss when I was a ghost.                  “No! But now that I’m here...well seems like we should probably work on that sooner than later.”

         “We can figure that out when Michelle is awake. For now, Bobby probably has some spare charms around if you’re worried.” Dean looked out over the scrap yard, “so you’ve seen it all?”

         “Well, what a 40-minute show would show. Enough for us to know you two have literally been to hell and back and all that in between. Enough to know that what we’re facing is terrifying and we should be scared shitless.”

         “I never got why people read the books, and I really don’t get why people would want to watch us. This.” Dean motioned at himself and the house.

         I smirked, “well, a lot of fans don’t watch for the plot.” 

         He looked over at me alarmed but then amused. “And you?” 

         “I was always a horror fan, but I definitely watched for more than the plot.” I smiled while internally freaking out that I just admitted to Dean my attraction to both him and his brother. I quickly added, “besides, the family dynamics. The brotherly bond. That’s what really kept me, and Michelle, hooked.”

         “Did you have siblings?” Dean was still staring at me, a slight smile on his lips.

         “A brother. Not close like you and Sam.” I paused, allowing myself a moment to think about my family, “I was supposed to be an aunt, but died before that happened. I was there for the birth, but not.” 

         “I’m sorry.” 

         “Can’t change the past. I’m thankful I could still experience some of it. Before it got too hard. I eventually took off and decided to do some sightseeing. The show films in Canada.”

         “Canada? Seriously? Sam and I have barely gone to Canada. Little hard crossing borders.”

         “Yeah. Well, the show is shot in Vancouver, but based in the US, like you really are. I’d never been far beyond my home alive, always too expensive to fly on my budget. As a ghost though? No restrictions. I saw a lot I wouldn’t have seen alive. Quickly realized it wasn’t the same though. You can’t touch things. Experiences are muted. You don’t feel the ocean breeze on your face, you can’t breathe in the crisp air of the mountains.” 

         Dean gave me an indescribable look, something playing behind his eyes. “So you’re human now. We settle all this, you can go anywhere. Where do you go?”

         It was an innocent question. Probably also Dean trying to figure out where he and Sam could dump me if we all survived this. It was also a question about a future I was actively trying not to think of, or more accurately, hope for. My face fell and I suddenly fought back tears. I could see Dean watching me closely. I swallowed and took a deep breath to attempt to steady myself. I knew my voice would be shaky when I spoke. I decided to do what I always did when things got serious. Joke. “Maybe Disneyworld. I could work at the haunted mansion. I’ve got the resume for being a ghost.” 

         Dean laughed, his laugh lines pronounced, probably relieved he didn’t have to deal with a girl breaking down into tears. “I haven’t been to Disney ever. Sam and I always joke about it, but never made it happen.”

         “Well, saving the world tends to be more pressing than riding teacups.” I could still hear the tremble in my voice but was getting it under control.

         Dean opened his mouth, about to ask another question when Jane appeared at the screen door.

“She is awake.”

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @zeleniafic @jvstjewels @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @booty-boggins @residentdormouse @delicateblackrose @stanshollaand @cantfighthemoonknight @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (03)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

SERIES: CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4

Note: OC is a lawyer but the author knows nothing about law except the three law subjects she took last semester. errors. ah. there will always be errors here bc english isn’t my first language. anyway!!! enjoy!

Jimin wasn't lying when he said you were a mess. This was evident to Jeongguk the second he stepped inside your apartment.

Pile of cardboard boxes and papers were cluttered all over the floor, causing him to feel uneasy. The faint colors visible in his eyes didn't help to calm his nerves. It was as if he suddenly became hypersensitive to his surroundings.

He assumed that your house wasn't really that untidy, but as stated, the colors made it seem like it was untidier.

"Hi there, buddy." Jeongguk forced a smile at the cat glaring at him. He remembered Jimin telling him that your cat was a bitch. The fury pet was making this strange, scary sound. Jeongguk suddenly wished you were here to stop the cat from attacking him.

He wasn't expecting you to lock yourself inside your room the moment you realized that he was your soulmate.

He was so startled by your reaction that his first instinct was to run after you. The thing was, your cat was blocking your bedroom door—stopping him from intruding your personal space. It was obvious that the little animal didn't like the fact that Jeongguk invited himself inside your home.

Jeongguk didn't know why you were hiding from him. In your defense, you were embarrassed. What were you supposed to say to your soulmate? How were you going to explain to him that the reason why you looked like a mess was because of your demanding job?

Being a civil lawyer was exhausting. One second you're negotiating settlement with the other side's attorney, then you would just find yourself filing motions in court and of course, there were many instances where you're standing before the jury and judge to present a case.

Expertise wasn't the only thing necessary in law. You also needed a great amount of empathy so that you could understand your clients. You cared for them a lot; this was why it was such a big deal for you whenever they choose to omit facts.

You hated it when your clients were being dishonest, you didn't need them to be innocent. You only wanted them to tell you the absolute truth so that you could properly defend them. It wasn't like your job was easy. The fact that most people living in your world see in black and white was already a pain in the ass. Earlier this day, you had a client who was suing a businessperson for selling fake whitening products. She claimed that she spent a whopping two thousand dollars to get that fair skin tone. Sadly, it didn't work.

The opposing side asked your client this: how can you say that the products don’t work when you can’t even see colors?

You were shocked to learn this. Your client was subject to a color test for eyes. She said she could see colors when in fact, she couldn't. Actually, the only reason why the vendor sold your client the whitening products was because she also lied to the seller. The latter's rule was that she wouldn't allow people who see in black and white to purchase her products. This was so she could protect her business' image from fraudster like your client.

Things like this often happened in court. The one you encountered were usually easier to resolve, unlike what criminal lawyers face. This, however, didn't mean your job should be taken lightly.

What happened in court today actually took a toll on you. Your boss humiliated you in front of your colleagues, saying that he couldn't believe an experienced lawyer like you would make such rookie mistake. This made you feel like a loser that's why you decided to go home early to rest. You knew you couldn't work when your heart was this heavy.

You ran yourself a bath the moment you reached your apartment. Jimin was bombarding your phone with text messages to remind you that Jeongguk, a friend of his, was going to drop at your place later today since he was interested to be your roommate.

You simply replied 'Yes, I haven't forgotten. Stop pestering me,' to your best friend. Truthfully, Jimin hadn't shut up about this guy named Jeongguk since last week. He kept telling you that he was the perfect replacement for Seulgi, your former roommate.

You just shrugged it off. Honestly, you didn't care if Jeongguk was the perfect roommate or not. At this point, you would take anyone in. You seriously needed someone who could help you with the household chores.

The warm water grazing your skin made you feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you're off to dreamland; however, your little slumber was disrupted by loud knocks coming from your front door.

"Shit!" Your eyes went wide upon realizing that your supposed to be new roommate was already at the door. As if to confirm the horror, your phone rang.

Jimin was calling.

"Where the hell are you? Jeongguk is in front of your door!"

"I know. I'm so sorry! I fell asleep." You got out of the tub, hurriedly putting on your bathrobe.

"Talk to you later!" You ended the voice call, rushing towards the door. Unfortunately, you slipped on the wet floor.

You whined in pain. Luck was truly not on your side today, but instead of getting annoyed, you simply stood up and went your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking so I slipped down the floor and I..." You were already blabbering right after opening the door. You hadn't seen your future roommate's face because it was easier to lie without looking at someone in the eyes.

You didn't know why you told him you heard his first knock, when in reality, you didn't. You guessed you just hated disappointing people. What happened with your boss today was something you couldn't let to be repeated again. You couldn't bear to irritate another person.

You kept yourself busy as you reasoned out. You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jeongguk to see his reaction.

It was like the world stopped.

No. You did not see colors instantly. What you felt was something strange—mystical perhaps. It was just like how they described it in books and movies.

You thought people were exaggerating about what they claimed they felt when they met their soulmates.

Apparently, they were not.

You know the feeling of finally seeing the rainbow after the strong storm? It was like that. Except this was way better. Your young self was probably rejoicing now. Being able to meet and look in your soulmate's eyes was dazzling.

The colors were becoming visible now, it was faint—this was in contrast to the embarrassment you were feeling.

You suddenly became very self-conscious with what you looked like. You were wrong. Your young self wasn't that happy because she wasn't expecting to meet her soulmate like this.

You were aware that you looked awful. The bags under your bloodshot eyes were probably so deep. The soap suds in your hair made you appear ridiculous. The most horrifying of all? You were wearing a bathrobe designed with the face of your favorite cartoon character.

"Uh—"

You ran away, locking yourself in your room before Jeongguk could finish what he was about to say.

Your heart was beating so fast as you stared in the mirror. The disgust you felt intensified. God. You looked horrible. You mentally cursed the brand of the mascara you were wearing. So much for claiming to be smudge proof! Curse yourself too because this wouldn't happen in the first place if you only refrained from crying over your boss' mean words, but it seemed like you never learned. You just scolded yourself from crying easily, but here you were, tears were painting your cheeks once again.

"No..." Your lips quivered. You were stronger than this. You weren't going to ruin your chance with your soulmate.

Determined, you quickly changed into a sage dress. Your hands were trembling because of your new found excitement. You loved colors ever since you were a kid. The fact that you couldn't see them didn't stop you from learning its meaning. You studied good color combination before. You were aware how to aesthetically match the hues. For instance, you knew that you would look ridiculous if you wore a neon green shirt and bright pink jeans. You were always careful in choosing what to wear, so now that you could finally see colors without referring to your color palette generator, you were beyond happy.

When you looked decent enough, you decided to finally face your soulmate. The first thing you saw as you opened your bedroom door was Jeongguk sitting on your couch—this was a very shocking scene. No. You weren't surprised because he was casually plopped down on your sofa, what you didn't expect was to see Miri, your bitch of a cat, to be so comfortable on Jeongguk's lap. Your pet looked at peace; the usual hiss she was making was replaced by a silent purring. Her bambi eyes mirrored your soulmate's same big, doe eyes.

You cleared your throat to get Jeongguk's attention.

"I let myself in, I hope you don't mind." You couldn't decipher what he was feeling. Jeongguk's voice was soft, but there was no hint of emotion there. His expression was also unreadable.

Jeongguk tore his gaze away from you when he realized that you were staring. As if this wasn't already awkward for him, you went on to say something that made him more uncomfortable.

"I've been waiting so long to meet you! Are you going to move in with me now?" You plopped down beside Jeongguk, squeezing your body between him and the arm of your sofa. Miri hissed since she was astounded by your sudden action. Actually, Jeongguk was surprised too. Your couch was pretty spacious; he didn't understand why you had to press yourself beside him.

Jeongguk also didn't know why you sounded so hopeful. The sparks in your eyes caused him to scowl; however, this didn't stop you from speaking your hopeless thoughts.

"We could do a lot of things together! I had planned everything since I was young!" You giggled. You didn't know why you were so comfortable telling him things. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you two were soulmates.

However Jeongguk was confused with your weird idea of wanting to do all of this romantic stuff with him. The uneasiness he felt couldn't be contained anymore when you abruptly talked about dating—as in dating him.

"Whoa, whoa..." He cut you off, arching his brow and moving away from you. "Slow down, will you? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh." You blushed, immediately realizing that you had gone too far. "I'm sorry I got carried away. I was just excited to meet you." You couldn't help but beam at him.

Jeongguk continued to raise his brow at you.

"Why? Are you really that desperate to find a roommate?"

It was your turn to raise a brow at him.

"N-No, I just..." You breathed in, unsure of what to say. "I'm just happy to finally meet my soulmate."

"Soulmate?"

You flinched because of the bitterness in his voice. His innocent eyes turned dark, he was glaring at you. Miri was startled once more. She jumped on your lap because she was getting scared of Jeongguk.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but I don't believe in soulmates." The word 'soulmate' sounded so rough coming from him, making you flinch again.

Many people had told you that you were good at gauging the feelings of other people, this was why your heart skipped a beat when you saw pain and anger crossed Jeongguk's feature. It was as if he was betrayed by someone.

"It's the most absurd thing I've heard in my entire life. Only stupid people believe in soulmates. I mean—" Jeongguk sucked in a breath. He was so annoyed that he didn't even know how to express his thoughts without breaking apart. "It's limiting the possibilities for people. Why am I required to fall in love with someone I barely know? Why should I leave the person I truly love just because a person meant to be the love of my life," he paused, quoting the words love of my life in the air. "Helped me see colors? It's like forcing me to do something I don't—no, I can't do. It's such a burden. Love can't be bought. I refuse to be with people just because they helped me."

There was silence after Jeongguk's long speech of the reasons why he didn't—or as what he claimed—couldn't love you.

Jeongguk wetted his bottom lip. The silence was making him hate himself. He hated himself because he saw the tears forming in your eyes, an obvious sign that you were hurt because of what he said. But most importantly, he hated you.

It was unlikely of him to hate someone he just met—or to simply hate anyone at all, but everything about you was making him mad as hell.

He hated your hopeful eyes, he hated your beliefs, he hated that you were the person hindering him from being with Red.

He knew it was unfair to blame you since Red chose to leave on her own, but he still couldn't help himself because the idea of soulmate was what urged her to leave.

You were Jeongguk's soulmate and for him, it meant nothing. So with a furrowed brow, he stared hard at you as he said this:

"I'm making you choose right now. Either accept me as Jeongguk, your tenant or Jeongguk, your soulmate. But just so you know, I will never stay with you if you treat me like a soulmate."

His word stung, though you were aware that the only way to make him stay was to choose the former option. At least this way, you got to be with your soulmate.

The colors you see were starting to fade away and it was okay...