#the goal is to finish a few different things so!!! fingers crossed i do that!!!

[tvrningout-archived]

i’ve arrived just to have sarah’s replies PUNCH ME IN THE CHEST

[marthawrites]

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

-

I.

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog. 

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight! 

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there. 

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 

Aemond. 

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

V.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @evermorre

[lyv-writes]

quick to break: frank castle x reader

words: 5,596

warnings: explicit smut, afab!reader, blowjobs, face-fucking, consensual vaginal sex, mild cock worship, manhandling, spanking, praise kink, strength kink, mating press, choking kink, use of the term “little girl” but not in a ddlg way, more in a patronizing way??? and only like 3 times, honestly pureee filth. i came back with a vengeance, aftercare, cuddling after sex (truly the biggest warning)

notes: had to come back with a bang…literally. horrible pun, i know. please enjoy and feel free drop an ask in my inbox! :D this was also cross-posted on ao3 <3

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡ ･ﾟﾟ･

Frank Castle.

Even the name was daunting, looming over you like a castle at the top of a hill. Walls impenetrable; no one got in that wasn’t wanted. He oozed control, of which Frank had a lot of.

Control over the scumbags of Hell’s Kitchen, causing even the most dangerous of men to move underneath his radar for fear of him catching wind of them. The images of the bodies he left scattered in his wake more than likely the first thing they think about when they wake up, and the last they think about when they lay their head on their pillow.

Control over himself, the patience on the vigilante running far deeper than anyone would expect with his gruff personality. It comes with the territory, spending hours staking out buildings, days following criminals, months jumping from goon to goon, working his way up to the big bosses. That was no easy task, oftentimes returning to his loft seething, having to remind himself that running in half-cocked would only get him killed before he accomplished his goals, before he fulfilled his purpose.

His favorite place to exert his control, however, was you. As of late, he finds his veins thrumming with a different kind of adrenaline—one that he can only find in taking you apart piece-by-piece, and putting you back together, not a thought in your head other than being good for him. He craves that control, in a way he only previously associated with the feeling of pulling the trigger of his gun with the barrel pressed against the head of some killer/smuggler/trafficker/piece of shit.

What made it so sweet was how willingly you gave it to him. He didn’t have to chase you down, didn’t have to break you to get you to bend for him.

He simply asked. Sometimes, demanded, if the mood called for it.

Even if he didn’t do either, you could tell what he needed with a look, and you were more than happy to help take some of that weight off of his shoulders.

It didn’t take much for you to realize Frank was holding back the first couple times you two slept together. The first time, you thought nothing of it, the moment being full of love, passion, truly an act of devotion between the two of you. It was sweet, it was perfect, it made you wish that your first time had been like that, with him. You finished together, kissing each other through it with wandering hands. Falling asleep in his arms that night, felt like a missing piece falling into place.

After a while of being together, and more than a few nights spent tangled with each other under sheets, it was a rare night where you and Frank could lose yourselves in each other's company, that you had ventured into new territory.

Driven by a night full of fleeting touches, ignoring the outside world for just a moment, the two of you stumbled into your apartment, lips reluctantly leaving each other only to shed your coats. You followed it up with your dress, and Frank impatiently unbuttoned his black dress shirt as you were already dropping to your knees, hands fumbling with his belt and unfastening his pants before he had even shed his shirt. You traced your lips over his clothed erection, nuzzling against his bulge before fixing your lips over his tip, lapping at him through his boxers.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your warm breath caressing him through the cloth and before he could say a word you had hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down to meet his pants in a heap around his ankles, his cock springing free from its confines. You looked up to see him looming over you, hard cock hovering over your face as he pulled up the white tank top he wore underneath his button-up, revealing his stomach, solid, yet soft enough to melt under the press of your finger. He stepped out of his bottoms and kicked them to the side, and stepped towards you again, pressing the underside of his cock against your tongue.

“Please, Frankie, fuck my throat,” You whimpered, hands resting on his thighs, still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the head of his cock and down his shaft. The only thing that had been on your mind all throughout dinner was treating Frank the way he deserved.

He did so much for you, for the city, you wanted him to be selfish for once, to take what he needed from you. You began stroking his length slowly, looking up at him through your lashes as you lapped at his slit, a groan coming from deep in his chest at your words coupled with your filthy actions. Your words came out slurred, lips still pressed to his cock and eyes glassy. “Wan’ you to, really, really do.”

Frank swallowed hard, gathering your hair together in a ponytail in his fist, his other hand coming down to caress your cheek softly. “You sure, baby?” He asked, voice tight with restraint. You had no idea how badly those words made him want to see you gag on his cock as he sinks into your throat, but you were so sweet, so soft.

The two of you hadn’t discussed making things a little more intense in the bedroom, too satisfied with being joined together so intimately. Frank knew that he could get a little lost in it sometimes, forgetting his own strength when wrapped up in the moment, but he made sure to take care with you.

Frank was all too happy to take things at your pace, just having you to himself being enough for him. “Wouldn’t wanna hurt that pretty throat a’yours.”

You shook your head, a dreamy smile on your face as you picked up the pace of your strokes. “You won’t hurt me, Frank. I trust you.”

He took a deep breath, feeling a bit selfish at giving into your request so easily, but he couldn’t deny that he desperately wanted to see if your throat could take his cock as good as your cunt did. And who was he to tell you no when you asked for it so sweetly. “Just tap my thigh if you need me ‘ta stop, okay?”

“Okay, Frankie,” you breathed, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation of feeling Frank use some of that strength you knew was hiding under his soft flesh against you.

Frank’s nighttime activities have never bothered you, in fact, quite the opposite. You found his sense of justice, the drive to do what needs to be done, admirable, irresistible. You couldn’t help but adore him—feel safe with him. You knew that if your friends and family knew who Frank really was, they would question your sanity. How in the world could you feel safe with someone who could be so violent, so bloodthirsty?

But you knew he would never hurt you.

You found comfort in how capable he was at keeping you safe. Knowing he would do anything to protect his own—you were convinced that if the world went to complete shit you would remain unaffected in Frank’s loft, shielded in your very own fortress, just the two of you.

The way you felt safe, cared for as his body hovered over yours on your bed, was something like you had never felt before. You knew you could only ever feel this safe with Frank.

Seeing the look of unadulterated adoration on your face, the way you so eagerly lapped at his cock as you waited for him to finally sink into your awaiting mouth, had him groaning, his cock twitching against your tongue at the sight. After a steadying breath, his grip tightened in your hair and he slowly entered your mouth, feeding you his dick until his tip was hitting the back of your throat with a moan at the sound of you gagging around his length.

“Relax, baby, lemme in,” he grunts, his face pinched in concentration as he focuses on not hurting you, no matter how badly he wants to shove you down on his cock. With short, steady thrusts he works open your throat, pulling back out till the tip was resting on your tongue before plunging back in just a little bit further. “That’s it, baby— shit.”

His sounds have you moaning lightly around his length, eyes glazed over and looking up at him as he takes such care in making sure you can take him without harm. You relax as much as you can for him, taking deep breaths through your nose as he sinks further into your throat. The taste of him is heady, causing arousal to coat your slit as you work your tongue against the underside of his cock.

“Atta girl,” he purrs, the last inch of his cock sliding down your throat. He groaned, pumping his hips shallowly as he tipped his head back and you whined at the sight of him, shirt pulled up to his chest, a sheen of sweat covering his chest and shoulders.

The light from the ceiling haloed around him, an angelic image towering above you. You could worship him forever, you realized, as you felt his thrusts pick up speed, pulling out from your throat and plunging back in. With that thought, the last of the tension that was strung tight in your body dissipated and you knew Frank could feel the difference with the moan that slipped from his throat.

He was seated to the hilt, your nose pressed tightly to the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock. You struggled to get a breath in through your nose as he relished in the way your throat fluttered around his cock. With your eyes rolling back slightly, the lack of oxygen had your head swimming, your heartbeat thumping in your clit at the feeling.

Frank opened his eyes, dropping his gaze to where you were kneeled before him, eyes rolled back at the feeling of him filling your throat and he picked up his speed again with a loud moan. His balls slapped against your chin as he used your throat like it was a fleshlight, and you snaked your hand down to the apex of your thighs, sliding past your panties to your soaked core.

The feeling of your fingers against your clit had you moaning loudly around his cock, the vibrations from your throat dislodging a loud moan from his throat. “Such a good fuckin’ slut f’me, gettin’ off from havin’ my cock in your throat.”

His words had you whining, not expecting the filth that dripped from his tongue. Frank was very vocal in bed—telling you how good you feel, moaning into your ear as he sinks into you. But he was so vulgar, it had you rutting against your fingers at the same pace he fucked into your throat.

No matter how badly you wanted to get him off with just your mouth, to feel him cum down your throat, you needed him inside you so desperately. Finally giving in, the war in your mind ceased as you tapped lightly on his thigh, signaling for him to stop.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Frank asked quickly, worry lacing his words as he gently pulled out of your throat. His eyes met yours and widened slightly in awe at you, seeing the dopey smile on your face and the way you nosed at the flesh of his tummy.

“Not at all, Frankie,” you assured, your voice a little raspy before pressing a kiss to the skin above his belly button. You continued to litter kisses all over the skin you could reach, pulling a soft chuckle from Frank as he carded his fingers through your hair softly. “S’good, so good, jus’ need you real bad.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, a teasing grin on his face. “Need my cock in that cute little cunt’a yours? Bet that’s why you were humpin’ your hand while suckin’ me off.”

Nodding quickly, you stand on wobbly legs. Frank steadied you as you swayed towards him with a giggle before you shimmied out of your panties, grinning up at him cheekily. Linking his fingers with yours, you drag him down the hall into your bedroom, yelping at the smack he lands on your ass as you're crawling onto the bed.

Situating yourself on your hands and knees, you wiggle your ass at Frank teasingly, shooting him a coy smile over your shoulder. “Please, Frankie…need’ta feel your big dick stretching out my pussy.”

With a wolfish grin, he pulls his tank top over his head, grin turning into a smirk at the way your eyes rake over his body, admiring his strong torso before your eyes settle on his cock. It stood proud, mushroom tip flushed a deep red, pre-cum beading at the tip.

Mounting the bed behind you, he presses a palm between your shoulders until your chest is flush with the bed, presenting your slick cunt for his eyes. His rough hands knead the plush flesh of your ass, groaning at how wet your tight hole is for him. You feel his hand leave you and then come back down, landing a hard smack! to your ass, forcing a moan from your throat.

Frank watches the way your ass jiggles with hungry eyes, chuckling lowly at the loud moan you released. “Does my girl like it when I slap her pretty ass, hm?”

His hand comes down again on your other cheek, the stinging pain morphing into pleasure that pooled in your core. You felt slick leak from your core, face flushing knowing that Frank has the perfect view of your sodden cunt. That thought is confirmed when his thumb drags from your entrance to your clit, rubbing your slick around the tender bud slowly. “You really like that, don’t’cha, angel?”

His thumb added more pressure to your clit, circling it faster before slowing down again. He sped up again, feeling the way you inched closer and closer to your climax before slowing down again.

“Never would’a thought my sweet girl liked bein’ roughed up so much,” he mused, his grin clear in his voice. His thumb was replaced with two fingers, circling your clit a couple more times before dipping down to your entrance, prodding against the tight hole. You clench around nothing at the feeling of Frank’s fingers ghosting against your entrance, drawing another breath of a laugh from him.

“That why you wanted me to fuck your pretty little throat?” Frank asked, burying two of his fingers inside you the knuckle, the feeling of your walls stretching around them making you whine. “My little girl like it when I push her around a bit? When I use her like the little toy she is?”

A moan left your lips as Frank crooks his fingers, searching for that soft spot inside you, and it sends you reeling when he finds it. It feels like the air has been punched from your lungs at the way he bullies the spot, fucking you open on his fingers with fervor. Frank’s fingers were twice the size of yours, and long enough to reach the most delicious spots inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, the force of his fingers forcing moans and incoherent mumbles from your lips. A cry tore from your lips as his hand struck your ass again, immediately repeating the action on the other cheek.

The pain mixed with pleasure had you gushing around his fingers, the sound of them fucking into you, lewd and wet, had your ears turning red. Without warning, your climax swept you under, your body tensing and trembling as white spots clouded your vision. Frank fucked you through your high with his fingers, slowing down until he was still, buried to the knuckle as your cunt fluttered around him.

As your orgasm subsided, you felt yourself relax, slumping further against the bed as Frank gently pulled his fingers from your twitching hole.

“Did so fuckin’ good f’me, baby,” Frank praises, draping his body over yours to press kisses across your back and shoulders. His hands trail from your hips, up your sides and squeeze at the plush flesh of your waist before dragging them back down to your hips and repeating the process.

His cock is hot against your lower back, hard length rutting slowly against your ass as he continues to ghost kisses across your skin. “Such a good fuckin’ girl—my good fuckin’ girl.”

A content hum builds in the back of your throat and you roll over on your side just enough to look back at Frank, your chest tightening at the grin stretched across his face. Frank’s smile always had your heart screeching to a halt in your chest, and you were sure your eyes turned to hearts at the sight.

“‘M all yours, Frankie,” you say with a sigh, pursing your lips at him to ask for a kiss.

He wastes no time in fulfilling your request, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. You can feel his love pouring into you through the kiss, as if your souls were connected where your lips met. The kiss was broken all too soon by the smile that stretched across your lips. His smile soon mirrored yours until you were smiling fondly at each other, foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling in the close space.

“Are you okay to continue?” Frank asks, tone soft as he bumps his nose gently against yours. “We can stop here, baby. You’ve been so perfect.”

The tiredness that you feel is still tinged with an undercurrent of need, still craving to be so intimately connected with Frank. The feeling of his cock, hard and warm against your skin only solidified your thoughts. Pressing another soft kiss to his lips, you pull away just far enough to murmur, “Fuck me, Frankie.”

With a groan and a satisfied grin, Frank’s hand snaked down between the two of you, guiding his cock to glide along your slick folds. Your mingling breaths soon became shared moans as he pressed his dick flat against your cunt, lubing up his cock with your wetness. A whine hitched in your throat as his head nudged at your entrance until it gave way, allowing him to work his thick cock inside your tight hole.

Despite him getting you ready with his fingers, the feeling of him stretching you out in his cock had heat engulfing your body, your mouth opening in a silent moan at the never-ending feeling of him filling you. He finally met the end of you, pressing himself further just for good measure before pulling back till just the tip was seated in your cunt.

He leisurely plunged his cock back into you, allowing you to feel the way his dick carved a path inside you. You loved the way Frank always looked out for you, always put your needs before his own when it came to acts of intimacy. But right now you wanted—no, you needed him to take what he wanted.

“Frankie,” you whined, arching your back to press your ass against his hips, taking his cock completely. “Please, fuck me, Frank. Don’t hold back.”

A rough groan passes his lips, his hips pressing further against yours at your words. “Fuck, babydoll, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t, Frankie,” you urge, looking at him with your face pressed against the mattress. “I’m not quick to break—promise. Please, Frankie, fuck me hard.”

He could hear the desperation in your voice, the way your lip trembled and brows pinched together as you looked up at him. Surging down to grab your jaw with his hand, he held your face still to press his lips urgently to yours, tongue demanding entrance before he pulled away, string of spit connecting your tongues.

Frank pulled away enough to look you in your eyes, making sure there wasn’t a trace of hesitation. Instead he found lust, hunger, love, as you smiled up at him once more. His voice was firm, more firm than you had ever really heard him be with you. “You tell me to stop, I stop immediately, do you understand, babydoll?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded immediately, the honorific just sounding right in the context. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

His gaze darkened at the sound of the title you used for him and he nodded at your agreement, dropping a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good girl.”

His words washed over you like a warm breeze, sinking you further into the fuzzy headspace that you always felt bleeding at the edges of your vision when it came to being intimate with Frank.

You felt Frank straighten back up, his hands trailing your shoulders, softly down your sides to settle at your hips. Slowly, so slow it was agonizing, he pulled his cock from your wet channel, just the tip nestled into your heat. Despite the instinct to brace for the impact of his hips on yours, you forced yourself to relax, further melting into the mattress to show Frank just how much you wanted everything he had to give.

Frank stayed still, enjoying the visage of you so submissive for him. Presenting your sweet cunt so eagerly for him, like a bitch in heat begging to be bred. His cock pulsed where it sat snug in your entrance at the thought.

You started to get antsy, wanting to look over your shoulder to see what Frank was thinking, but wanting to stay still and be good for him. Just when you considered wiggling your hips, hoping to spur him on, he filled your weeping cunt in one fell stroke.

A cry was wrenched from your throat at the feeling of him filling you so completely, not sparing a second before he was pistoning his hips against yours. With your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of his tip bullying your cervix, you felt the curve of his dick brushing against that spongy spot inside you.

The pleasure was almost too much, your fingers tightening in their grip on the sheets and trying to drag yourself away from the feeling. With a grunt, Frank wrenched your hand out of the sheets, hand circling tightly around the bend of your elbow as he pulled you back towards him. His hips picked back up their rhythm, hand landing a thundering smack on your ass cheek as he fucked into you.

“Don’t try runnin’ now, little girl,” Frank grunted, landing another harsh smack against the raw flesh of your ass. “You asked for this.”

He was being borderline mean, his tone cold and detached as he used your body to chase his release, and his words had a loud moan breaking free from your throat. It only had you growing wetter, the squelching sounds of him railing your cunt increasing in volume, along with your moans.

You knew that if you wanted it to stop, you could say so, and you trusted Frank to keep his word. But it was so perfect, the pain burning in such a euphoric way, it was too much and not enough all at once.

“F-fuck, sir— unh! ” Words fell from your lips, incoherent babbles of his name mixing with your moans creating the most beautiful symphony in the silence of the room. “So good—so full, fuck.”

His hips came to a stop, pulling out so quickly you didn’t even realize until he was manhandling you onto your back. His eyes took you in from your face to the wet heat at the apex of your thighs, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of you clenching around nothing.

“Kiss me, Frankie, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging your wet core against his cock.

He’s never been able to deny you anything, even now, his hard exterior dropping to press a languid kiss to your lips. You gasp against his mouth, his tongue taking advantage of the noise to slip in alongside yours. He pulls back just enough to murmur, “Bein’ such a good little toy for me, baby.”

His hips rut against you, grinding perfectly against your clit. His words send your mind floating off into the clouds, happy, sated knowing that you’re being good for him, that you’re taking all that he gives just how he wants you to.

You’re so lost in the kiss, the feeling of his chapped lips against yours, the warm weight of his hand caressing the side of your cheek, you don’t even notice him drag his cock down to your entrance. With a sharp thrust, he bottoms out once more, relishing in the way your eyes widen at the unexpected stretch, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Frank licks into your mouth one final time before pulling away, planting one hand on your hip and the other around your neck. He gives your neck a gentle squeeze, your eyes focusing on him and seeing the silent question in his eyes. You nod quickly, failing to form the words of encouragement he needed, but whatever he saw on your face was confirmation enough.

His grip on your throat tightened, blood rushing in your ears at the light feeling in your head. Frank cursed, hips stuttering against yours at the way you clenched around his cock, almost making it hard for him to pull out and press back in smoothly.

Frank can feel your walls fluttering around him, the signs of your climax approaching has him doubling his efforts. The hand that was on your hip leaves a trail of fire as he moves it to your mound, thumb ghosting over your clit and making your hips buck against his thumb at the feeling.

The sweet abyss of release was so close you could taste it, sweet on your tongue. You were desperate for it. Your hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging into the skin hard, dragging down in your pleasure fueled daze, leaving stinging, red marks in your wake.

“Please, please, please,” you mumbled, your brain melting underneath Frank’s weight as you felt his hands grab at your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest as he settled his weight over you. His cock pressed deeper into your core, the deepest anyone had ever been. “O-oh, God, Frankie—can feel you in my tummy, baby— ah! ”

Your voice was nothing more than a shrill whine, all the air punched out of your lungs at the change in position. His weight was comforting around you as he molded your cunt around his cock. You were sure you would never be the same after this, he had broken you down and rebuilt you in the same breath.

His fingers worked quick circles around your clit as he huffed, his pace slowing slightly, allowing him to hit deeper, harder. His hand is still loosely circling your throat, no longer squeezing but acting as something to ground you. Despite your previous orgasms, you know this will be intense. You can feel it building, but it feels slightly different, the pressure building more than usual.

“C’mon, little girl, you’re gonna give it t’me,” Frank grunts, angling his hips for that little spot that makes you feel like you could float away from your body. His hand tightens around your neck, your moan cut off into a ragged breath. “Cum around my dick so I can breed this tight little cunt, y’want that don’t you?”

“God, yes!”

In a flash, flames envelop your body, toes curling as your vision goes spotty at the force of your orgasm, leaving you cumming with a cry. Frank’s hand releases your throat, the oxygen rushing back through your veins making the sensations more intense. You’re so fucked out, you didn’t notice the way you soaked the lower half of Frank’s body, your arousal dripping down his hips and drenching the sheets.

Frank’s hips collide with yours, once, twice, before stilling, painting your sensitive walls with his thick spend. The feeling of him filling you with his seed, grinding his hips against yours and stimulating your tender bud, has you moaning softly as an aftershock rolls through you.

The air around you is still, thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Frank gently lowers your legs, pressing featherlight kisses to your face at the sight of you wincing in discomfort. Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you drag his mouth over yours, pressing a deep, unhurried kiss to your lover’s lips.

Frank’s softened cock is still wrapped in your velvet heat, both of you enjoying the feeling of being so close, feeling like you are one entity instead of two individuals. You had never understood the appeal of cockwarming until now, pressed to the bed with the weight of Frank’s body laid atop yours, joined in the most intimate way.

Finally parting for breath, Frank presses his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he melts under your nails scratching lightly at his scalp. His words are slurred in contentment. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?”

Shaking your head softly against his, you smile softly at his serene face. You only ever see Frank this at ease when he’s asleep, the only time the man indulged in being vulnerable. “Not at all, Frank.”

Pulling back far enough to meet his gaze, your hand falls to cup his cheeks. “It was perfect. You’re perfect, Frankie.”

It never fails to amaze him how you’re able to quiet the voices in his head, the ones that nag at him, nasty, cruel voices that spit venomous words. His whole being is still. Right now, intertwined with you in the closest way possible, he’s never been happier.

His lips pull into a sheepish grin, shaking his head at you. “That’s all you, angel. My good little girl.”

His praise makes your face flush, despite all you had just done, all he had just done to you, he still managed to fluster you. He presses a kiss to your pouting lips, chuckling into the kiss as you try to resist before melting against him.

Nuzzling your nose with his, he softly pulls out from your sensitive core, pressing a kiss to your nose as you wrinkled it at the sensation of his release dripping out of you. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get you to the bathroom while I change the sheets.”

Standing up before you, Frank scoops you up in his arms, smirking at the tiny yelp you let out at the unexpected action. You smack his chest with a giggle before burying your face in his neck. Frank always looked at you a little weird when you sniffed at him like this, but you just couldn’t help it—he always smelt so good. If his natural scent was some top-shelf designer cologne, you would spend hundreds on it.

After placing you on the toilet, he grabs a washcloth, wetting it under warm water before kneeling in front of you and wiping down your sensitive areas with a gentle hand. Once he was done with that, he deposited the cloth in the hamper, before returning to the bathroom.

“I’m going to change the sheets and get you some water,” Frank says, pressing a lasting kiss on the top of your head. “You finish up in here, I’ll be done by the time you are.”

With a final smile, Frank leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You quickly use the restroom before wiping off the rest of your ruined makeup with a makeup remover wipe. By the time you’ve finished brushing your teeth and exited the bathroom, Frank is setting the glass of water on your side of the bed.

He smiles softly when he sees you exit the bathroom, his eyes taking in your bare figure with a look that wasn’t of hunger, or lust, but adoration, reverence. You had never felt so beautiful with just one look before you met Frank—he was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

He pulls back the duvet, sliding in against the fresh sheets and patting the spot next to him for you to join him. With a bright smile, you cross the room in a flash, burying yourself into his side as he tucks the comforter in around the two of you so none of the cold air could get into your little cocoon

You pressed your cold toes to Frank’s warm legs, giggling at the hiss he let out at the feeling. He glared playfully at you, kicking around at the blankets until he had wrapped them around your feet. Tucking his arm under your head, he draped his other arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him, your chilled nose brushing against the warm skin of his neck.

With a sigh you wrap your arm around Frank’s torso, hand splayed out on the muscles of his back and ribs. “Y’so warm, Frankie,” you mumble, the sound muffled from your place in his neck.

He laughs softly, his fingers drawing delicate shapes on the soft skin of your back. “You’re just cold, baby. But don’t worry, I got’cha.”

“I know,” you hum, trying to press yourself closer to him. “I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

[hoodharlow]

Back to You

Part 1: Different Side I See

AN: if you saw me post this yesterday, no you didn’t 

Requested? No

Warnings: mentions of cheating done by non-main character, mentions of smut (if you squint you kinda 

Word Count: 2.3k words

“Why do you hate me? Have I not suffered enough?” 

“Aspen, honey,” Sage, her agent, began.

The tall brunette turned to her agent and shook her head. “No.” she responded before walking to her closet. 

“It’s just an evening.” they said as if it would soften the blow. They got up from their seat and walked up to Aspen, who threw her things into her suitcases. “Honey, this could be a good way to prove that you’re over it. You just finished filming a movie, and you won your first Tony a few months back. In addition, earlier this week, you got nominated for your first Grammy. Things are looking good for you. It's been eight months.” 

Sage was right, it had been eight months. Eight months since Aspen’s whole life fell apart. Eight months since her soccer player ex got caught cheating on her with Arsenal's, the team he plays for, main jersey chaser. And instead of him getting called out for being a cheating asshole, Aspen got the short end of the stick. She was ridiculed all over social media getting called stupid for thinking that someone with his career would be loyal. She also got dragged through the mud by the team’s fans for taking away attention from the fact that he scored the winning goal and the team won their match against their rivals.

There was a knock coming from the main door of her penthouse suite. Aspen set down her things and went to see who was at the door. She checked the peephole and cursed. 

"They put you up to this, didn't they." She said opening the door to the last person she wanted to see.

"Damn, not even a hello." Jack said, touching his chest. "And to think I brought you Nandos."

"Get inside." She said, rolling her eyes. 

"Yo, she saw right through it." He told Sage when he set down the take-out bag on the counter in front of the kitchenette. He grabbed the food he ordered for himself and went to sit on a couch.

"I just want to go home and not think about work until next year." Aspen said, rummaging through the bag to see what he got her. 

"Honey, just do this one thing for me and you're off the hook for the rest of the year." Her agent clasped their hands together, pleading. 

"Promise?" She held out her pinky finger to her.

"Promise." Sage nodded, wrapping their pinky around Aspen’s. 

"Fine." She said begrudgingly. 

"Great! Your cousin will be here first thing with some look compiled." They said, grabbing their Birkin that was next to Jack. 

"I was going no matter what, huh." Aspen said 

"That's right." Her agent smiled innocently. They waved at Jack and exited the suite.

"Where are you going?" Jack asked. 

"The stupid GQ awards thingy." Aspen waved her hand in the air. She sat criss-cross applesauce next to him and dug in her food. "He's going to be there." 

"Oh, I'm going to that, so are Urban and Ace. If anything happens, we'll defend your honor." 

"Great, what I just need is for my ex to see me with my other ex." She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Jack could feel her nerves radiate off her body. Undoubtedly, anyone In Aspen’s shoes would be nervous to be in the same room as their ex, especially after what they did to her. When he saw the video of her ex and the other woman making out at some club, he felt angry with him. Only an idiot would fuck up and lose Aspen. Jack would know, he let her walk away because he was too scared to fight for their relationship. He'll do anything to get her back, but for now he'll settle by being her friend, even if it meant that he had to comfort her while she brooded over her shitty ex.

"This shit isn't all that, you know." He said to change the subject, pointing at the nearly finished Nandos plate. "I don't know why this had a chokehold on you when we were in high school."

"You can be honest. I'm not gonna snitch on you to KFC that you had chicken somewhere else." 

"At least because of this, I was able to bag you back in the day." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Your little obsession with Niall was how I knew you had a thing for us Irish folk." Jack said confidently.

Nearly ten years ago Jack and Aspen first became a couple the summer before they started their junior year of high school. But they were friends for years. They were always the first to sign up for community or school talent shows. One of the things they had in common was they both knew they were meant to be famous. 

After high school, Jack moved to Atlanta to pursue his music, Aspen moved to LA for school to study psychology. But deep down she knew her true calling was acting, it had been since she was young.

She knew she was meant to be on stage or in front of the camera. One of her fathers was the head of the performing arts program in the University of Louisville, so she spent most of her free time growing up in the theater. She fell in love with it. There was something special about being able to put on a costume and transform into someone completely different for a few hours. She loved having all eyes on her while she brought a script back to life. It was second nature for her. 

One day, back in 2018, after her ecology lab, she saw a sign posted in the quad about open auditions for casting for a movie. The part wasn't for one of the main characters. She was auditioning to play the older sister of one of the main characters. After several rounds of auditions, she didn't get the role, but the casting director offered her another role. It was for one of the main female characters of her favorite book series when she was in high school that was going straight to series on Amazon Prime. She accepted it immediately and dropped out of school. 

She was nervous to tell her dads. They both wanted her to go to school first so she could have a backup plan in case acting didn't work out for her. But upon hearing the news, they were excited for her and got in contact with Sage, a friend of theirs who worked in the entertainment industry. They became Aspen’s agent and the rest just fell into place. 

Jack and Aspen ended up breaking up in early 2019. Their lives got hectic. Jack's music was slowly but surely taking off and Aspen was focused on the show. Since they wanted to follow the series's timeline, they had to film everything within two years. Each season would come out with months between them. It was very ambitious, but the series was able to get it done. It became insanely popular, competing with other teen shows and movies from other streaming services. 

Despite everything, Jack and Aspen remained close friends. In 2021, they were seen together at one of Jack's festival shows and people all over Twitter were confused. Everyone was confused because they seemed like an unlikely pair. The only thing they had in common was that they were both from Louisville. Aspen rarely talked about her life before she got famous, just the general stuff about her family and how she was in college when she started acting. While Jack was pretty open about his life growing up, he never mentioned his relationship with Aspen. Mostly because there wasn't much to tell. They have known each other since middle school, dated when they were sixteen and broke up in 2019 on good terms. After that they remained good friends, but didn't hangout because they had busy schedules. 

At some point a fan page posted a picture of the pair at their senior prom that they found buried deep in the depths of Facebook, implying that they dated. Said fan page also went through so many posts on all social media platforms, screenshotting and screen recording their interactions and posted 'evidence' that there was more than what Jack and Aspen were telling them. So Jack made a statement telling his fans to stop lurking through old Facebook accounts because it was weird and evasive.

"What are you thinking about?" Jack asked her as he picked up their now empty food containers. 

"That we fucking made it." She laughed to herself quietly. "We're in fucking London. You're about to finish the European leg of your world tour and I just finished filming a movie." 

"I'm not surprised. I knew we were meant for this." He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "It was about time people got with the program."

"Yeah?" She asked him quietly.

"You're a star, Aspen." 

"I'm a staur." She said like Mia Goth in Pearl when her character had a breakdown after getting rejected by the church dance troupes. 

They both giggled, leaning into each other. Aspen’s green eyes gazed into Jack's blue eyes. Without thinking twice, she cupped his cheek and claimed his lips. Jack kissed her back, deepening their kiss. Without breaking their kiss, Aspen straddled one of his thighs, slowly rubbing herself against his dark jeans. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as his hands rested on her ass. 

"When I came over, I didn't come to coerce you into sex." Jack said, breaking their kiss.

"I know." Aspen said breathlessly. "I want–"

"Sex with you is the last thing on my mind." He said, sliding her off his lap. "I have to go…I'm sorry, dude." 

***

Aspen smiled for the cameras. She looked radiant as ever in a custom gown. It was a pale pink, silk-satin, floor length gown that had a large flower around her neck and two cutouts, one above her chest and a small one just below her chest. The dress also had dramatic 80s style shoulder pads. She felt like she was part of an 80s soap opera. She even had a faux fur coat to beat out the cold November night. 

Her cousin slash assistant, Rubí, waved her over when she finished the red carpet. "They said we're at table seven. Which is thankfully on the other end where trashcan –I mean– Christian is. He got a seat near the speakers." She said, as they walked to their table.

Aspen looked over to the table and cursed. She spotted the back of stupid Jack's stupid head. She turned to her cousin, clasping her hands, and begged, "Rubí, why don't we just go back to the hotel? I did the red carpet. Sage wouldn't even know."

"No, I don't know what happened between you and Jack the other night, but you're going to sit through that dinner. And so am I because I'm fucking starving." Rubí wrapped her hand around Aspen’s wrist and dragged her to the table. 

Jack and his friends hadn't sat down yet, so they were standing in a huddle. Aspen tried her best to be discreet, but she made eye contact with Urban. She set her things down and went up to the group. 

"Hi, guys.” she said, hugging him. Then she hugged Ace. 

“Hi, I’m Aitch.” the British rapper said, introducing himself in a tone that was a bit too friendly for Jack’s liking. 

“Nice to meet you.” Aspen said, shaking his hand. 

Jack extended his arms ready to hug Aspen, but she took a step back. "Dude," she nodded curtly. 

She turned to her cousin and whispered in her ear something before turning to the guys. "If you'll excuse us, we're going to grab drinks. Y'all want anything?"

“No, we just got ours already, thank you though.” Urban answered for the group.

Aspen nodded and motioned at Rubí to follow her. Before they reached the bar, Aspen was stopped by Salma Hayek, so the trio made small talk. 

“What did you do to piss off Aspen?” Ace asked Jack as they watched her and Rubí walk over to the bar. 

“What makes you think I did something?” he said defensively. 

“Because we fucking know you. You always do something to piss off Aspen.” Urban shrugged. 

“I do not.” Jack scoffed. 

Ace and Urban shared a look but dropped the subject. They moved on to talk about Jack’s last few shows in Europe with Aitch. Jack stopped paying attention at some point. His mind went back to the other night when he rejected Aspen. She had every single right to be upset with him. As much as he also wanted to sleep with her, he was being honest with her when he told her that hooking up with her was the last thing on his mind. When her agent called him to help them convince Aspen to attend the awards ceremony. They told him that they knew Aspen wouldn't want to go because her ex was going to be there. He knew better than to try to rouse her up when he knew her mind was somewhere else. Could he have been more gentle with how he told her? Obviously, when he left her suite, he hated himself with how he said it. But he knew Aspen and despite everything, he would do whatever she wanted him to do.

Thoughtlessly, Jack excused himself and went over to the bar. Rubí saw him and pointed at her phone, answering it, leaving Aspen alone. 

“Hey,” Jack said, gently squeezing her elbow, “can we talk?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Jack or should I say dude?” Aspen whispered. 

“Just give me five minutes, please.” 

“Fine.” she gave in. 

She pulled out her phone and texted Rubí that she was going to talk to Jack and they’d be back in five minutes. Jack took her hand, and they left the main venue to look for a more private place to talk. They settled for a bay window. 

“Okay, talk.” Aspen motioned, crossing her arms. 

“I’m sorry for not wanting to have–”

“You’re so fucking irritating Jack.” She cut him off. “I’m not upset because of that.”

“Then why are you being fucking petty?” he retorted. “I was clear with my intentions. I didn’t want to fuck you when you were still pining over your ex.”

“That didn’t stop you back at your birthday party.” she muttered. 

“What was that?” he said. 

“Nada.” she said, starting to walk away, but Jack caught her arm and pulled her back to him.

Jack gently pushed her into the brick wall and leaned into her. “Don’t fucking twist my words, dude. You were the one who pulled me to the broom closet at the bowling place. You were the one who dropped her knees and choked on my dick. After that you were the one begging me fuck you in the back of my like old time. And I let you do that because I fucking pittied–”  

Aspen cut him off by claiming his lips. The kiss was messy. The urgency between them increased as lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his hips. She pulled him closer by his shirt, wanting more of him. 

“Shit didn’t mean to interrupt.” Aspen’s ex called behind them, making the pair pull away. He walked away without saying another word, but Jack caught the smirk in his face.

“I’m so sorry.” Aspen began sputtering. “I saw him, and just panicked. I shouldn’t have–”

“You’re a fucking piece of work, Aspen.” Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I hope for our sake this is the last time I’m ever in the same room as you.” 

taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezyxo @deannaard @meyocoko @babyharleezy @whywontyoulovemecami @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @youngharleezy @webinurcloset @alinaharlow @that-90s-girllll​

[ineffable-writer]

What's it like to do a PhD in creative writing? I'm just finishing my MFA and I wonder if a PhD is worth it? How is it different from an MFA? I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thanks :)

I’ve enjoyed the hell out of mine, but it does vary based on what you want from it and where you end up going.

I picked a program that’s highly independent, which allows me to kind of… just write my novel and do my own thing. Because of that, I’ve been able to creat a ton of opportunities for myself. I’m now a podcast host and have three mini operas under my belt, and got a ton of teaching experience. I focused on stuff that makes me a competitive graduate to go into academia, so cross your fingers for me as I head into the job market!

But I have friends who’ve picked schools based on interesting research, or literary cities, or professors they really want to work with—it varies so much on what YOU want to get out of it as a writer.

(It was worth it for me. I’ve had four years to do nothing but write professionally, and my career grew hugely in that time. I’m incredibly proud. I went from a few small publications in local anthologies to getting longlisted for a National award. It was worth it for that alone.)

So, @thegoliathbeetle, if you want more precise information—what is it you want to learn? What are your goals? What are your dreams?

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 2.27.2024

I met all three of my goals for last week, which is good, I guess. Number one was to stop being manic about my stupid fanfic, which I did, but I half-regret, because maybe I would be done by now, if I had just shot the anxiety curl, but that's neither here nor there, I suppose. I did finish Chapter 9a, and sent Chapters 7 and 8 to the beta, which were the other things I said I wanted to do. I, in fact, managed to make a dent in Chapter 9c, as well (Chapter 9b is like a little interlude thing, which may or may not get subsumed into Chapter 9c, depending on how long it comes out)

I am so close to being done, and I feel like it ought to be easy to push it over the finish line, but it hasn't. I've been feeling pretty down on it for the last few days. I'm not super-happy with the way the last few chapters have been turning out, but on the other hand, I'm not sure I have any way to make them better. I think a lot of it may just be that I have been working on this fanfic for so long that I'm kinda sick of it. :\

I took a little bit of a break today--I finished a book I was reading, and I made sort of a rough draft version of a banner, mostly because I'm still trying to nail down the title from a couple of different variations, and I was hoping that seeing it visually would be helpful. Based on that, the current frontrunner is Damage History (the other two options are Past Damage and Prior Damage, please feel free to tell me if you have any opinions).

I just did the math and apparently I crossed the six figure mark this week: the thing currently stands at 100,731 words (+7,004 for last week...really? How did I manage that???) I have two and a half scenes left to go, one of which is supposed to be short and one of which is the epilogue. There's also at least one scene that I'll probably try to rewrite a bit, I dunno. I guess the goal for next week is to finish the thing??? All of this feels extremely unreal.

Anyway, you've all been incredibly patient with me, so here's another preview. This is from one of the flashbacks in Chapter 2, and if it seems vaguely familiar, it's because it's one of the parts that got spun out of the old Renji-breaks-an-arm story.

---

Much like Kitajima himself, the shop had looked a lot better the last time Renji had seen it. There was dust and cobwebs everywhere. Most of the shelves were half-empty. 

"Take off your shirt," Kitajima instructed, dragging out a stool for Renji to sit on. 

"All the damage is below the elbow," Renji said quietly.

"Oh, look who's a medic now," the old man burbled.

Renji took off his shirt.

Kitajima pressed one of his clammy hands in the space between Renji's shoulder blades. A cold, nasty feeling bled down Renji's arm. He wanted to vomit. After a few moments, Kitajima felt his way down Renji's arm, squeezing at his flesh and shooting painful little sparks into his nerves. When the old rat snake got past the elbow, his fingers pressed against the end of the broken bone and Renji nearly passed out. 

"Hey! You're hurting him!" Rukia barked, bracing her entire weight against Renji's shoulder in an attempt to keep him upright.

Kitajima ignored her.

It wasn't pain, not exactly. Well. It was painful, but it was more like Renji's body was burning through all of his energy as quickly as possible. It felt like dying.

Kitajima finished his palpitations, then fetched something from one of his dusty jars. "Eat this," he said, pressing it into Renji's hand.

Renji remembered these things all too well. He'd eaten a lot of them during the period when he was working for Kitajima. It was a pill made up of mashed rice and various dried roots and seeds. They weren't the tastiest thing in the world, but they packed a lot of energy and they lasted forever. He bit into it gingerly.

“As I told you the last time you were here,” the old man growled, “you have the demon magic in you. The shinigami use it to cast spells, but also to push their bodies past what is normally possible. Like a fool, you have done this without proper training. You have broken and healed yourself simultaneously, but with no skill, and you have made a hash of it.”

“I wasn’t trying,” Renji excused. 

“Can you repair it?” Rukia pressed.

“I can rebreak it,” Kitajima replied.

[mazikomo]

Change of Attire

Arno's new outfit will be the death of you.

AO3 Link

Arno Dorian/gn!reader, NSFW 3.8k words PWP, fingering, semi-public sex

Sans-Culottes outfit > Athos Duel Shirt When the husband @straight-into-the-animus says there's not enough true gender neutral reader inserts for Arno, you finish your year old WIP. Anything for you honey 😘

Thanks for my favorite piece of trash and the brain rot crew for betaing!

Sitting on a bench at the edge of the market, you watched the movement of the crowd in front of you. Paris had been tearing itself apart at the seams and this was certainly reflected in its citizens. People were shouting at one another, a desperate look in their eyes as they fought over what little food was available. Thievery was at an all time high due to the shortage and that was just what you were trying to fix when you had agreed to help Arno on this mission. 

You had been surprised at his request, but with tensions so high in the city, even he saw the rationale in working as a pair instead of alone. Initially, you had been hesitant to lend your aid, as you had been developing an attraction toward him for quite some time now. You knew the best way to get over this was to avoid the man, but the people of the city came first over your own personal matters. Besides, you were an adult and full fledged assassin, it shouldn’t be any problem to put a lid on your feelings and work together.

Finally, you saw Arno across the market. Your heart jumped into your throat as he grew nearer. Instead of his usual long, navy coat, he was dressed in an outfit you had never seen before. A soft, lightweight shirt clung to his shoulders and sturdy leather sleeves wrapped around the muscles of his arms. Over that was a very well-fitted vest that accentuated his narrower waist and two thick, leather straps crossing over his broad chest. Arno’s usual red sash and belts were present, but in contrast to the impeccable fit of the top garments, loose, striped pants completed the outfit.

“Wh-where’s your usual clothes?” you asked as you stood from the bench, trying to sound as normal as possible despite your brain beginning to overheat. The lid you had oh so carefully secured lay shattered at your feet. 

So much for getting over that attraction. 

“Snagged my coat yesterday while on a run and tore it. While it’s being mended I thought I would try something a little different.” He spread his arms. “What do you think?”

“Uh, looks good.” You coughed in an attempt to clear the sudden lump in your throat. “Very flattering.” 

“Thanks,” Arno replied with a smile. If he noticed your flustered state, he didn’t let on to it. “So what have you been able to gather so far?”

You explained what you had learned over the past few days. It seemed there were many small groups that were causing the food shortage. Rumor had it the Templars played a major role in organizing them. Luckily, you had an address of where several related meetings seemed to have been taking place. Today’s goal was to search the place and try to find out where all the food was being hoarded.  

The two of you set off. It was only a short distance away, but you kept to the rooftops. It was safer that way, but you also knew Arno liked to show off his free running. 

And show off he did. Scaling building sides like gravity was nothing and smoothly shifting from move to move, over chimney’s and across balcony railings, like water flowing through a stream, motions as second nature as breathing. 

However, that wasn’t what captured your attention. 

Oh no, as you clambored a few yards behind him, your eyes were glued to one thing. 

His ass. 

You were well aware of the effects the man’s backside had on you. This wasn’t the first time you had admired it, but usually it was in passing as he strolled through the hideout. Seeing it in action, the loose pants hindering it in no way as they stretched across the swell when he crouched, had you almost falling to your death on more than one occasion. 

Death from ogling the ass of the most pompous assassin in Paris. There were worse ways to die.  

Thankfully, for the sake of your own physical well-being, you arrived and slipped through a conveniently open window. 

What greeted you, however, almost caused you to keel over on the spot. 

The view of Arno’s ass, single view, already had you floundering, but multiple views… dear Lord, you were surrounded. 

Mirrors. Were. Everywhere. 

“Well, someone likes to show off their status.” Arno remarked all too casually. 

You scrambled to pick your jaw up off the floor and spoke in a cracked voice, “probably all paid for with dirty money no doubt.”

“That’s what we’re here to figure out. You start searching the study, there’s probably nothing of use in the rest of the house, but I’ll do a quick sweep before joining you.” he said as he began to head down the stairs to the main floor, your eyes hungrily watching his retreating form. 

As you entered the study, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. If the mirrors lining the hallway had been pretentious, then the amount in the study was downright obscene. Every space on the wall that wasn’t taken up by a bookcase or painting was covered with a mirror. Reflections of yourself filled your vision wherever you walked. 

“There’s probably mirrors on the ceiling in the bedroom,” you murmured to yourself. 

Wouldn’t that be an interesting display? Sweating bodies, being pinned to the mattress by strong arms, looking up to see— 

No. Best not to let your thoughts go there. 

Eyes surveyed the actual contents of the room instead of their impostors. The desk. That’s a good place to start. 

Its surface was covered with newspapers and a few personal letters, but nothing of worth was there or in the drawers, you learned as you rummaged through them. Disheartened, you pulled at the handle of the last drawer only to be met with resistance. Finally, something promising.  

You crouched down and withdrew your lock pick from your belt and set to work as Arno entered the room. 

“Woah,” he paused in the doorway at the sight of all the mirrors before blinking himself back to attention. “I didn’t find anything useful, you?”

“Not yet, but this locked drawer seems promising,” you replied, “I’ve only looked through the desk so far if you want to check out the bookcases.”

Arno nodded and began to poke through the nearest one as you returned your attention to the lock. Normally, lock picking was one of your better talents, but this desk seemed to be an antique and the old pins did not want to cooperate with you. Frustration built as you fought the stiff mechanics. The drawer probably hadn’t even been opened in a while if it was this tough. 

Movement out of the corner of your eyes caught your attention. It was Arno’s reflection in the mirror closest to you. The particular angle gave you the perfect view of his back. Arno was by no means a broad man, but as your eyes raked over his form, you knew without a doubt that there was nothing but lean muscle under those vexing clothes. 

That outfit does cling to him rather nicely, you thought to yourself as you imagined what it would feel like to run your hands across his strong shoulders, down his chest to slim hips, and even lower to—CHINK! The metallic sound of the pin breaking snapped you out of your thoughts and you swore under your breath. 

“Everything alright?” Arno asked from across the room.

“Yes everything’s fine! Just broke a pin.” You replied quickly, hoping the nervous pitch of your voice wasn’t too noticeable. 

“You sure you don’t want to trade—“

“No no!” You cut him off, “I got it really, just a stubborn lock is all.”

“Of course,” he replied, sounding unconvinced but returned to his own searching nonetheless. 

Okay, focus now. You have a job to do. You told yourself as you reached into the pouch on your belt for another pin… only to freeze as your hand felt nothing but empty space. 

This just wasn’t your day. 

“Uh, Arno?” You called out hesitantly.

“Broke your last pin, didn’t you?” The smug tone of his voice only served to deflate you further.

You sighed, “yes.” 

“Here,” he walked to the desk, “You search the bookcases, I’ll pick the lock.” 

Reluctantly, you got up and moved to the door, eyes cast to the floor as you passed Arno. You squared your shoulders and took a deep breath, determined to be productive in any sort of way, but your eyes betrayed you. They couldn’t help but peek a glance backwards via the closest mirror. Once again, the damned things were providing you with a delicious view of Arno. If you thought seeing the back of shoulders had you flustered, then sight of his behind as he squatted down in front of the locked drawer was downright torturous. Quickly, you snapped your eyes away and bit your lip trying to keep your composure. Still, you couldn’t help but sneak glances every few seconds. 

“Got you!” Arno exclaimed. You jumped, fearful that he had caught you shamelessly eyeing him before the click of the lock opening eased your mind. He pilfered through the drawer and, seemingly finding something useful, tucked some papers into his belt. 

“What did you—” the front door banged open downstairs. 

All it took was a single glance at each other before you both darted across the house and back to the open window. Your pursuers reached the top of the stairs just as you leapt out. 

“After them!” someone shouted as you begin to fly across the rooftops right behind Arno. 

This time, you actually focused on the path below your feet and only glanced up at Arno occasionally to make sure you hadn’t lost him. You didn’t care where he was headed, just as long as you were able to keep him in sight. 

The distance between your pursuers and you shrank while the buildings were becoming further and further apart. Arno jumped to the ground in a small courtyard and hopped into the well. As much as you hated being in the city’s sewer tunnels, it was the best option you had. 

Despite their massive size and the maze of their layout, it wasn’t hard to follow Arno down here as every movement echoed and broadcasted your location. Just as you thought you were making headway, splashes from behind told you otherwise. The pace picked up again and you stayed right on Arno’s heels this time. All sounds blended and echoed together in the tunnels and in your head; you didn’t know which were your own footfalls or which belonged to your enemies. You hoped Arno had a plan because you certainly did not.

Just as you were sure they were closing in, Arno grabbed your arm and darted around a corner. He pushed you against the wall and covered your body with his own in an effort to make yourselves disappear. Your heart was in your throat as the running footsteps drew closer and closer until they, finally, ran past your hiding spot. The both of you remained frozen as you listened to them get farther away until they couldn’t be heard at all. 

It was then you fully realized the position you were in. Arno’s body was pressed flush against yours and his panting breath was tickling your neck. Despite your pursuers being gone he made no move to step away.

“You know what I love about mirrors?” he murmured, soft lips just barely ghosting over your ear, “two people could be looking at the same one, and yet be seeing completely different views.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been eyeing me all day.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, “Like what you see?” he asked with a hum, nuzzling his nose just below your ear before continuing, “Lucky for you,” he emphasized with a chaste kiss to your neck, “I liked what I saw too.”

Your head was spinning. Not moments ago you had been running for your life and now you were cornered, literally, by an entirely different adversary—one you didn’t want to get away from. You couldn’t believe this was happening. All day you had been worked up by just being around Arno. The way his clothes clung to his lithe body just made things all the more difficult to bear. Your mind had been running wild but the situation you were in now was far beyond anything you could have possibly imagined. 

Arno drew his head back but kept his body still pressed against yours. You knew you were staring at him with wide, dumbstruck eyes while his own bore into you. His hands slid down to your hips as he leaned forward, stopping with his lips fractions away from yours. 

“Do you want this?” he whispered against them so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. It took a moment for your mind to process the question. On the one hand, this was a terrible place to be doing this. The men chasing you could turn around at any moment and catch, possibly kill, you. On the other hand, that just made it all the more exciting. 

You were sure your heartbeat could be heard. 

“Yes,” you breathed. No sooner had the word left your mouth and Arno’s lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. 

His mouth ravished yours and you eagerly wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close, his own hands slid from your hips to your backside with a strong grasp to do the same. Everything about your movements was urgent, the adrenaline still pumping through both of you from the chase now fueled your actions. He licked at the seam of your lips and you happily opened your mouth for his tongue to slip in. Neither of you could get enough of the other as your mouths moved desperately together.  

Arno’s thigh moved between your own and pressed up, forcing you to stand on your toes. Your hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the leather straps as you tried to keep your balance. His mouth moved back to your neck, the teasing movements of before now replaced with heavy kisses as he sucked marks into the skin. Thrills shot down your spine at the action and he worked each part thoroughly. 

His hands squeezed your backside before they began to move. One came up to grip your hair to pull your head back while the other, slowly, slid to the front of your pants and firmly cupped your sex. You couldn’t help the low moan that left your mouth from the contact and the sound echoed down the tunnels. 

“Better be quiet,” Arno teased in your ear, “Wouldn’t want to get caught like this.”

You knew Arno was right but you couldn’t help the small gasps that left your mouth from his actions. You could feel his length hardening from where it was pressed against you and suspected that, despite his warning, those sounds fueled his own arousal. He was purposely trying to draw them out of you, reveling in each echo as he did so. 

“What was that?!” a gruff, but distant voice shouted. Your head snapped in the direction and the unmistakable sound of footsteps began to draw closer and closer. 

“Merde,” Arno cursed against your skin. He grasped your hand and pulled you into a run once more towards the way you had come in. 

Out of the tunnel and into the streets once more, your head swam as your senses were immediately flooded by the bright sunlight and sounds of the crowd. Arno all but dragged you into a side alley, trying to get off the main street as fast as possible and avoid attracting anymore attention to yourselves. You didn’t even try to keep track of where you were going, all your attention focused on not tripping over your own feet. 

Large stones flashed past in your vision as Arno brought you to a small, decrepit looking shed and led you down the stairs and back underground. Out of one tunnel and into another. You were thoroughly lost as he zigzagged through the carved passageways and finally brought you inside a small room. 

It was hardly larger than a kitchen storeroom but you could see the appeal to someone down on their luck as a place to stay—the small chest in the room indicated as such. Besides that, the only things in the room was a frayed blanket and a few discarded wine bottles. 

“There,” Arno stated as he stepped away from securing what looked like a makeshift door. “No one should interrupt us here.”

“Interrupt?” you questioned, and eyebrow raised as Arno sauntered towards you.

“Unless of course you’d rather not continue where we left off and forget the whole thing.” he said, slowly pushing your hood off and cupping your face in his hands. “I, for one, would greatly enjoy hearing more of those delightful sounds you were making,” he rested a thumb on your lip. 

A small spark of indignation flared in your gut. You darted your tongue out to lick at the digit, enjoying the brief flicker of surprise on Arno’s face. “I don’t know how much noise I’ll be able to make with my mouth full,” you drew his thumb into your mouth and sucked on it, feigning an innocent expression and looking at him with large, doeful eyes. 

Arno gasped at the action, but to your dismay quickly regained his composure as his eyes darkened. “I’m afraid we’ll have to save that for another time,” his other hand moved to retrieve something from his pocket, “because I went to the trouble of acquiring this,” he held up a small vial of what appeared to be oil, “and I plan on using it, now.” He withdrew his saliva covered thumb from your mouth and smeared it down your chin. 

“Where did you—?”

“Paperwork wasn’t the only thing I was searching for.” Arno replied with a smirk. The smug bastard had planned this. “Now,” he gave you a wet kiss, “bend over.”

A chill ran down your spine at the command and you quickly complied, turning around and falling to your knees. Arno’s firm hand between your shoulder blades pushed your body down over the chest. You heard him kneel behind you and soon felt him work at your clothes. The end of your coat was pushed up over your back out of the way and your belt and sash quickly discarded before your pants were tugged down to your thighs. The cold air raised goosebumps over your exposed backside immediately. 

A warm hand ran over you appraisingly, lower and lower, working its way between your legs and over your undeniable arousal. You bit your lower lip as it ground against you, once, twice, before disappearing. The protest on your tongue became a gasp as it returned, this time cooler and much wetter, and a finger pressed against you. 

Your body acted on its own as it pressed back, eagerly seeking more contact than a single fingertip. Cheeks burned from the sound of an amused chuckle but you didn’t care. You had wanted this, dreamed about it for so long, that nothing was going to ruin it for you. 

The finger pressed in and you gasped. So little, and yet it felt so good. Hips shifted again until you felt the breach of another digit. 

“So eager,” despite his teasing, Arno sounded a little breathless himself, “go on then.” 

And you did. Not caring how desperate you must look. Not caring that it gave away your hand. Not caring how it gave him full control.

No. All you cared about was the stretch. To work those fingers inside until you were ready for something else. 

You took your time, back and forth, back and forth, grinding onto his hand and taking your pleasure. Back arched and hands pressed onto the surface of the chest for better leverage. It had been too long. Too long since you had felt the touch of another in such intimate places. You wanted to savor it. 

But you also wanted more. 

Soon enough, you were properly fucking yourself against his hand. Head tossed back and breath panting as you reveled in the sensation. Distantly, you heard the clink of metal and shift of clothes, felt the cool metal buckles and scratch of fabric against your backside. 

“P-please,” God, when had your voice become so ruined? “Please, I need more.” 

You whined when instead the fingers were removed and left you grinding against nothing in a desperate search for contact. At any other time you would be ashamed at how easily you had given away control, had let another play you like a puppet on strings. But you didn’t care. All you cared about was the blunt intrusion of Arno’s cock as he finally gave you what you wanted. 

“So tight,” Arno groaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest. 

You quivered around him as he gripped your hips in an attempt to keep you still for a moment. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was maddening. Delicious. Torturous. Euphoric. 

Your knuckles were white around the chest’s edge, your entire being suspended on the precipice, lungs tight as the air in the room became stifling. Until it snapped. Until Arno snapped. 

Hips shot forward against your own, knocking you flat against the chest as a rough pace was set. You didn’t care. It was exactly what you wanted, what you had been craving for so long, and you were more than happy to let it happen. 

“Is this what you were thinking about while you stared at me all day?” Arno gasped, “Would you have let me take you then? In front of all those mirrors so you could see just how desperate you were from every angle?” 

“Yes! Gods, Arno, yes. Anything you want.”  

He responded with a particularly hard thrust, as lost as you were. Sweat dripped from him and mingled with your own in your suffocating robes. 

You knew you weren’t going to last much longer, and from the gasps above you neither was Arno. You shifted in order to work your hand between your legs but it was swatted away and replaced with Arno’s own hand, his gloved hand, to work over your aching sex. 

That was it. Your heavy breath became sobs as the sparks that had been flitting under your skin finally ignited. You shrieked, body jerking violently against Arno as your orgasm surged within you. His own body ground to a halt with a deep groan as he spilled inside you. 

The pleasure  smoldered in your veins as you lay panting, sandwiched between the hard chest at your front and Arno’s firm body at your back, but you couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to be. 

“Now,” Arno, breathed against your shoulder, too out of breath to achieve the teasing tone he had adopted earlier, “about your mouth being full?”

Join the taglist!

@agoutighost @nemo-my-name-forevermore

[anistarrose]

20 questions for fic writers, tagged by @holdmecloser-gandydancer (thanks reese!) tagging @fexalted @3hobbitsinatrenchcoat @novantinuum and anyone else who wants to!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

86, very soon to be 87!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

397,102. my god.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The majority (over half) of my total fics on AO3 are Gravity Falls, but my current passion right now is obviously TAZ Balance, which is a pretty close runner-up. TOH is a lot further behind, but I have at least one WIP I want to finish up early next year!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Some Sunny Day (Gravity Falls), Tulip's Return (Infinity Train), Stan and Ford Vs. The Future (GF), Fateful Detours (GF/IT crossover), Missteps and Miscommunication (GF).

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Usually, and especially when they give me a chance to infodump about the writing process! I just don't necessarily respond quickly lol

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

In recent memory, it might be but the strange lights in the sky were shining (TAZ). I write more happy/bittersweet endings than sad ones, but that one... that one has one of my absolute favorite twists :)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

to eat from a poisoned plate (TAZ) is one that I almost didn't write a happy ending for, but I'm so glad that I did, because I go back and reread that one a lot, admittedly.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Usually no more than annoying but generic "please update" comments, but back in the Gravity Falls fandom, there was this one person that you've probably heard of/encountered if you wrote a lot about Bill Cipher back in the day.

They were a guest account user who'd get so mad if you killed off Bill, to the point of making threats (albeit exaggerated, not really realistic ones), and also one time they told me I should go read a particular MLP fic and take inspiration from it in my own. Which, no shade against MLP, but as someone who's never been in that fandom, that's literally the funniest entitled comment I've received in my life.

9. Do you write smut?

Nope, but I do occasionally write characters being horny. There's a huge difference between those things for me, and that probably has everything to do with where I lie on the ace spectrum lmao

10. Do you write crossovers?

A couple times, though I used to be way more into them than I am now. There was the aforementioned GF/Infinity Train one, and my gateway into writing TAZ fic was actually a very silly "what if the Pines family were the protags of TAZ Balance" fic.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, and fingers crossed it doesn't happen 🤞

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a few times! My buddy @yourbonesarenowmycoat translated several of my Gravity Falls fics into Spanish back in the day, for one thing!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

This should come as no surprise but it's Blupjeans forever and ever <3

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh, god. Probably the one that I wrote like 9 chapters (out of 10 planned ones) to cope with being chronically ill and to convince myself to go to therapy, and then abruptly stopped writing when it was almost done because I figured out how to manage my chronic illness and soon after, started going to therapy. On the one hand, it would be tragic for it to never see the light of day, but on the other hand, it kinda... served its purpose for me already?

16. What are your writing strengths?

Fic as character study! Sometimes I set out with the goal of elucidating a particular theme or character motivation, and sometimes it just happens along the way, but I am a genius with regards to character analysis and my brain is galaxy and I'm not afraid to share it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue is one thing for sure, I get a lot of compliments on it but it's also such a challenge for me. Possibly because I, personally, don't talk like a remotely normal human person irl. The other thing is brevity and killing my darlings — I literally can't count the number of times one of my fics exceeded the expected word count by orders of magnitude.

The aforementioned character study thing? Yeah, that's also a weakness, because a lot of my fics (even including some very, very long ones!) exist to explore themes I couldn't figure out how to word in a simple headcanon post. In fact, I'm probably gonna post a fic of that exact variety this weekend, lmao.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Definitely not fluent enough in any language to do it on any larger scale, unless I get serious about learning Spanish again.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Not on AO3, but in general, it was definitely Pokémon! I was writing time travel stories set in Sinnoh before Legends Arceus made it cool.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

As previously mentioned... probably "to eat from a poisoned plate". In the vaguest possible terms, learning to love cooking again in spite of some prior bad experiences has been a struggle for me, too, and I truly think that without having written that fic, I wouldn't be succeeding.

On a related note, I'm about to spend my afternoon making a blueberry pie.

[sincerely-sofie]

Check-in for October 27th, 2023

I spent 3 hours straight working on a single assignment that was meant to take half as long as it did. It took all my brain power to complete it, and I couldn’t get much tangible work on personal projects done as a result. Still got some planning done for business stuff, though. And I’ve been gathering inspiration and references for my dating sim / visual novel project.

The visual novel doesn’t have a premise yet, but I’m building up some creative guidelines to help me generate ideas. I also am planning out some scope limits to keep the size manageable. With NaNoRenO coming up in March, I’m hoping to get all the prep work done at a leisurely but consistent pace over the next few months, then finish up the project over the course of March. That’s very wishful thinking, but you know what they say: “A goal without a plan is just a wish.” And if my wishing and daydreaming about goals is given the planned-out structure of a checklist and schedule, I can maybe, possibly, hypothetically complete this game.

I still need to think of a premise, though, so I better get cracking on that.

I’ve had a few ideas for visuals styles— like making scrapbook-y visuals with collages, journaling ephemera, and paper textures scanned in from real life, combined with actual photos for backgrounds. I’ve also had ideas for atmospheric flair, like typewriter noises playing whenever characters “speak.” Not sure if any of these would appear in my final product when I don't know what the story would even be, but I am very excited either way!

After doing some research on different visual novels, both ones I've played and ones that I've wishlisted or thought looked cool, I've tentatively decided I want to make a wackier sort of visual novel--- one that would preferably be a dating sim of some kind, but I'm not picky. I once drafted the ground work of a cryptid dating sim as a teenager where romance-able options included an angsty gray alien, a spoiled rich boy lizardman, a reverse-spiderman situation heroic vigilante mothman, and an eldritch god named Paul. That project is definitely too big for me to make with my current skillset and patience, so I can't take it on as a project quite yet--- but I can dream.

I'm tempted to make a dating sim based on some OCs in a setting I mentioned previously that is populated by bug people, but that's pretty niche, and I'm honestly not too sure if there's an audience for that sort of thing--- especially if it's essentially an extended inside joke with myself. Even so, I am tempted. So very, very tempted.

One day I will make finalized art of these characters, and everyone will know why they're peak examples of blorbohood.

That being said, I have other ideas that could be adapted to a visual novel or dating sim. One of them involves a tech enthusiast whose computer gets possessed by a malware demon, another details the player going on a blind date with a stereotypical "Hero of Prophecy" fantasy character, and another one is a playable bedtime story. I'll spend some time going through the archives of concepts and try brainstorming some new ones. Still going to need to take it easy for a while--- I've got a busy month coming up with NaNoWriMo, and I don't intend to burn out ahead of that--- but I'll be working on the concepts and required research at a gentle pace!

Seriously, though, fingers crossed on the possibly-completing-a-game thing! I finished a pilot / minimum viable product of an RPG titled Momther a while back and it made me realize I had the chops to actually enjoy game dev as a hobby--- I just have to stay focused and committed, ADHD be darned. If I manage my health well, both mental and physical, that should be nice and doable. I got this!!! Kinda!!! Hopefully!!!

Sincerely, Sofie

[messers-moony]

Home | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five goes through everything with his best friend, and when they return with the announcement of their marriage his siblings are appalled. 

Request: “I can request a FiveXreader where the reader is loving, sweet and naive, Five's best friend but the reader has no powers (You can invent a way how they became best friends and they are in love with each other, cliché but I love) One day the reader was sitting in front of the Umbrella Academy and saw Five leave in a hurry (The scene that he will travel in time) In this the reader does not abandon Five and decides to travel in time with him, they end up trapped in the apocalylipse, can you make them stay together?  (Like married I don't know) And also the scene where they go back to 2019? Sorry, if this so bored”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. After a failed mission, he and his siblings decided to sneak out. Klaus had spotted a park on the way home, and that’s where they went. For the first time in years, they felt like kids again. They were all ten years old and had never experienced a playground before. Allison had never laughed as much, and Diego seemed to finally forget his insecurities while swinging from monkey bars. 

Even on occasion, Luther would help Ben cross the monkey bars. Vanya was finally included, and Klaus had never seemed so carefree in his life. But Five had his eyes on someone else. She sat at one of the navy blue tables, quite a ways away from the playground, watching the siblings with a soft smile on her face. A notebook was in front of her while she twirled a pencil in her hand. 

Curiosity killed the cat. Five was too intrigued not to sit with her. So despite this probably being the only time he could experience a playground, he sat in front of her, obscuring her vision from his other six siblings. Her eyes met green ones; they looked evergreen in the dark of the night. His hair almost looked black, but she knew it had to be dark brown. 

“Good evening.” Her voice, it sounded like heaven to him, “Evening.”

It felt awkward, and the silence could’ve been cut with a knife, “My names Y/n.”

“Five.”

“Five? That’s unique.” Y/n complimented, and his cheeks flushed, “Thanks….” 

Her vision went back to the other kids, “You’d think they’ve never seen a playground before.”

“They haven’t.” Five stated, looking at his siblings, “Our father is strict, so we snook out to come here.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as rude-“

“You didn’t.” Five smiled, looking at her e/c eyes. 

Since then, Five would sneak out a lot more. His power was a fantastic tool. When he and his siblings began to sneak out more, Five always invited her. Klaus, Diego, and Vanya seemed taken with her. Y/n was always so kind and sweet. Her laugh radiated, and it made everyone around her smile. It was like she was Aphrodite, and he was Ares. 

After becoming friends with the academy kids, Y/n had a habit of sitting outside the academy. She usually sat on the edge of the sidewalk with her notebook on her lap, pencil in hand. Five couldn’t remember a time when her hand wasn’t covered in graphite or ink from drawing. He adored it, though, because it was so her. It made him stare at his black pens, aimlessly smiling, knowing that she probably had the same color ink on her hand. 

Becoming friends with Five meant knowing his ambition. Five Hargreeves was driven by his goals and wanted to do them regardless of the consequence. So Y/n knew about his dream to time travel despite his father's wishes. On a gloomy day, Y/n sat on the sidewalk. The only thing drawing her from her daydream was the slam of a gate. 

“Five!”

He didn’t turn, “Five!”

Y/n grabbed his arm, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m- I’m going to time travel.” Five stated with that daze in his eyes, “And you need to stay here.”

“No! I’m not letting you go alone!” Y/n exclaimed incredulously, “Y/n, please.” Five pleaded. 

She shook her head, “Absolutely not. Either we go together, or we stay here together.”

“Fine.” Five reluctantly agreed, holding out his hand for her. 

Hesitantly Y/n slid her fingers through his. They were intertwining their hands together. Five was so focused on time-traveling correctly that he didn’t notice the pink flush on his best friend's face. But he did it, once and twice—finally a third time. Smoke clouded the area, and fire could be seen for miles. 

Y/n dropped his hand and covered her mouth. Five circled in his spot in shock. He felt nauseous and queasy. He couldn’t believe that he let this happen. He shouldn’t have pushed himself. They were stuck. Fucking hell, they were stuck, and he couldn’t do anything. Y/n ran back to the academy, and Five followed her. The h/c haired girl stared at what used to be the Umbrella Academy. Now in ruins. Five dropped to his knees, tears collecting in his eyes. 

“It’s- it’s gone….” 

Y/n hugged him tightly, “It’s okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna be-“ 

Five didn’t get to finish his sentence. He pushed her away and threw up to the side. When he finished, Y/n took her jacket sleeve and wiped it around his mouth—gently combing his hair from his face. Y/n had never seen Five look so drained. Seeing her in front of him, taking care of him made him break. Five broke into sobs holding onto her like a lifeline. Y/n rubbed his back and held him just as tightly. 

“I’m here, Five. I’ll keep you safe.”

Being thirteen in an apocalypse seems like a death sentence, but when you grow up the way Five did, it’s more bearable. The first few months were awful. Searching for shelter, food, clothes. It was downright hell, but they made it through. On cold nights Five would hold her close to his chest, and on hot nights Y/n would always manage to get him cold water. 

Years passed, and their friendship turned into a relationship. They needed each other to survive, and they just needed each other. Five couldn’t be more grateful that she insisted on coming. He couldn’t imagine doing this alone. But now, he had his girlfriend leaning her head on his shoulder while watching the fire. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, leaving occasional kisses on her temple. 

“I couldn’t imagine this world without you.” Five confessed, “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” Y/n challenged. 

He smirked, “Oh, really?” 

“Don’t let it go to your head, smartass.” Y/n snorted, “Too late, it’s already there, my love.” Five retorted. 

She kissed his cheek, “Love you.”

“Love you too, darling.” 

Five years later. They were twenty-five, and he wanted to make it official. It was a rather cold day wherever they were, and Five was holding her closer than ever. Y/n was shivering on the old mattress they had found. She was constantly snuggling closer to Five’s chest. They laid facing each other, and Y/n’s head was tucked under his chin. Five’s hand ran through her long hair - after being unable to cut it - soothing her nerves. 

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“I want you - Y/n - to marry me.” Five repeated, looking down at her.

Her teeth chattered, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not like there’s anyone else to choose from.”

Y/n glared playfully, and Five chuckled, “Asshole.”

“So, what do you say? Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“I say that if my fiancé doesn’t stop being an asshole, then I won't marry him.” Y/n retorted jokingly, “I love you too, pretty girl.” Five replied, smiling softly. 

He kissed her forehead and allowed her to muzzle closer into him. Gently he pulled the two plain rings he found. They were battered, of course, and the gold was dirty, but that didn’t matter. Five slipped the ring on her finger and his. Y/n placed a gentle kiss on his lips that he gladly returned. Sweet, soft, passionate, and full of love. A description of how she was. 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Five replied, “Now get some sleep.” 

Y/n was about to fall asleep when she heard Five mutter one last thing, “Y/n Hargreeves.”

29 years. 348 months. 1512 weeks. 10,585 days. Until a woman showed up in their shelter, offering them both a job. Five could remember pushing Y/n behind him defensively. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt in any interaction he had. The woman offered them a way home. Five turned to his wife, and she saw it. For the first time in forty-five years, she saw it. Hope. 

Y/n took Five’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. The softest smile crossed his features before agreeing with the woman’s offer where both of them became assassins—partners in crime. Nothing turned Five on more than seeing his wife fend for herself, and god, was she good at it. Y/n was so naive and innocent when she was ten. But now? At the age of fifty-six, she wasn’t that girl anymore. 

But when they reached the age of fifty-eight, Five finally found out the correct equation. They were at their last mission, make sure John F. Kennedy gets shot and everything goes to plan, but Five had different ideas. Taking Vanya’s book from his suitcase, he looked over the equations one last time. They were going back; Five would go home today. 

“Y/n.”

“Yes, love?”

Five sighed, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“To go home.” 

Y/n’s smile was blissful; Five could’ve fainted on the spot, “Home?! Like- Like-“

“Home.” Five answered to his overjoyed wife. 

Y/n kissed him more passionately than ever. Five could feel her gratefulness in her kiss. His hands placed themselves on her waist, and hers were around his neck. God Five never wanted to forget this feeling. The feeling of his wife in his arms, kissing him as she would never get enough. When they pulled apart, Five opened the portal. Gripping her hand, they jumped through and landed on the leaf-filled ground in the icy rain. 

“Does anyone else see Little Number Five and Little Y/n, or is that just me?“ Klaus asked, not trusting his eyes; maybe it was an illusion from the drugs. 

Five and Y/n stood up. The first thing Y/n noticed was the ring on her finger was too big now. But Five looked down at the suit he had been wearing previously. The blazer now reached his knees instead of his waist, and Y/n’s shirt was hanging off one of her shoulders. Five and Y/n looked at each other. They were thirteen all over again. 

“Shit.” 

He grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her into the academy. Y/n had only been in the academy a handful of times before, and she usually was only allowed in Five’s room because she wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. His siblings followed aimlessly and took their spots at the table. 

“What’s the date? The exact date.” Five inquired, grabbing different things around the kitchen. 

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Y/n took place beside him as Five began making a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich. The same snack he used to love as a kid. Y/n could remember him trying to eat it back at their apartment the commission provided them but complained it was too sweet. It seems that being in his teenage body again made him crave the sweetness of the snack. 

“So, are we gonna talk about just what happened?” Luther questioned, but no one answered, “It’s been 17 years.”

Five scoffed, “It’s been a lot longer than that.”

The same big spatial jumped behind Luther as he began to take marshmallows from the cabinet, “I haven’t missed that.” Luther murmured. 

“Where’d you two go?” Diego asked. 

“The future.” Y/n answered politely, “It’s shit, by the way.” Five added spatial jumping beside her again and gently kissing her cheek. 

The siblings stared in shock at Five’s sudden act of affection; Five could feel their eyes on him, “What?”

“You just kissed her.” Allison stated, “And?”

Allison didn’t say anything, “Is it a crime for me to kiss my wife or something?” Five asked agitatedly. 

“Wife?!”

“Yes, wife.” Five sighed. 

“Called it!” Klaus exclaimed. 

“I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing.” Five began as he looked through the fridge, “Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” 

He came back with peanut butter in his hand at the front of the table, his wife beside him; he took in the appearance of his siblings, “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, Danke!” Klaus smiled. 

“Wait, how did you two get back?” Vanya questioned. 

“In the end, I had to project our consciousnesses forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time.” 

Diego couldn’t wrap his head around it, “That makes no sense.”

Five went to remark, but Y/n cut him off, “It doesn’t have to. All that matters is that we’re back.”

“How long were you two there?” Luther queried, “Forty-Five years. Give or take.”

Everyone looked at the two teens in disbelief, “So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“Well, not exactly. Our consciences are 58, but it appears that our bodies are back to 13.” Y/n answered. 

“Wait, how does that even work?”

“It seems that Five might’ve gotten the equations wrong.” Y/n replied, and Five glared at her, “I’m not mad! I’m just happy we’re home. Appearance be damned.”

Five took notice of the newspaper in front of Y/n, “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How’d you even know about that?” Luther inquired, “What part of the future do you not understand?” Five retorted. 

“Heart failure?” Y/n asked, “Yeah/No.” Luther and Diego contradicted. 

Five clicked his tongue, “Nice to see nothings changed.”

The teenage boy began to walk away, “Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison questioned.

“What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life.”

Vanya was the first to get up and hug Y/n, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Vanny. Me too.”

[satoriberry]

Hi, I hope ur having a nice dayyy and I hope you're staying warm for the holidays.

I wanted to request a tsukishima x fem!reader, oikawaxfem!reader and daichi x fem!reader of lil short stories of them playing with the readers rings on their hands. And the reader gets all shy because it's their first attempt at self love and is so grateful that they like what she likes.

Ya, I hope that's okay, I dunno if your requests are open but if it is, have fun writing!

↬ Currently growing: First steps towards self love :]

↬ Starring: Tsukishima Kei + Oikawa Tooru + Sawamura Daichi x Fem!Reader

↬ Watch out for: Nothing! However, not proof-read eat my ass >:(

↬ Berry's note: APOLOGIES TO ANON FOR ANSWERING THIS LATE

They were one of the first things he noticed about you, and accordingly, found to be cute.

You wore those rings almost everyday without fail, every time in a random order or different number then the previous day. You had a habit of twisting then when you’d visibly get nervous, but other than that, you never took them off.

‘Y/N, I have a question.’

Sitting together on a bench behind the school, you two enjoyed your lunch in each other's company with no one around.

‘Yeah sure, what's up?’

Picking up a rolled egg, he continued, ‘I've noticed that you always wear rings. Not that it's a bad thing, the opposite actually, I just want to know if there's a certain reason behind it.’

You stopped chewing for a second before continuing, a tiny smile on your face. ‘I guess that they make me feel better about myself. I like my rings, and whenever I can feel them on my fingers, I feel more secure. It may sound silly, crazy even, and I wouldn't blame you for thinking so.’

‘I think it's a really good thing. I'd never mock you for being like that.’

Turning your head to look at him, you saw how hard he was gazing at you, a certain firmness to his expression. Slightly stunned, you let out a tiny, ‘Oh’, before grinning wider.

His gaze dropped, looking at your left hand that was twirling your thumb ring. Looking away for a moment, he raises his head to give you a small smile, one that he always gives you before doing something he catgeorized as "disgustingly romantic". He reached for both of your hands, feeling their warmth in his own, and placing a kiss on your knuckles. "I adore you and your rings. I wouldn't want to stop wearing them."

You felt your heart beat like crazy, the tension of the moment getting to your head and making you feel dizzy. "Yeah, a-huh." You almost robotically responded from how nervous you felt. Tsukishima wasn't lacking the ability to be affectionate, however, this was the sort of thing he only did when he wanted to see you as flustered as could be.

And it wasn't only you. He felt his face get warmer by how bold he was being, and gently let go of your hands to continue sipping in his juice box, saying, “Good. Now stop looking at me like and finish your lunchbox, we have a history project to discuss.”

You felt a bit pissy at how he shys away from being lovey-dovey with you, but it's moments like these that make you be more and more infatuated with him. Especially with the fact that he kept a constant light grip on your hand as the two of you worked out the project plan.

‘So you see, now that we've got three values, we can just cross multiply to get x², then you can find its square root. Did ya' understand?’.

His peppy voice was a joy to listen to. Oikawa proposed to assist you with Algebra (even though you never asked in the first place), and when you asked him why, he said it’s because, “You deserve nothing but the most accurate of knowledge. Also, you’re my adorable partner and I don’t want you failing a class.” Quite frankly, you were insulted because you were no where near failing Algebra, it was just a few questions that you didn’t really understand, but when he sets himself a goal, he doesn’t let go until it’s completed.

‘Im’ma getcha some more juice, just stay here, okay?’ He chirped, abruptly standing up before exiting his room and stumbling towards the kitchen. You giggled to yourself, he really was too cute to exist. You started to think about some random things until he comes back, your fingers impulsively reaching for the rings you had on. You began to toy with them. Taking some off, putting them back on, twisting them.

You shortly halted your movements as the door gently opened and Oikawa tip-toed into the room, whispering, ‘Okay, so my mom made some banana pudding but don’t tell her that I got us some, she’ll chew me out. Alright?’. You nodded your head mindlessly, still playing with the rings. That clearly caught his attenttion, as he placed the two bowls while gazing at your curiously. He leaned his head against his cheek at kept staring at you, a little grin plastered on his face. ‘Love? What’re you doing?’

Snapping out of whatever that was, you felt how intense his staring felt and nervously chuckled as a result, 'Nothing really, just that...these rings make me feel better about a lot of things.' Your answer definitely made him even more confused than before, as he tileted his head to the side comically. 'Well, I guess you could say that during a period of my life, I was never satisfied with who I was or what I did. Thankfully, that's changing now and everytime I feel proud of the person I am, I get myself a ring.'

Almost instantly, his arms found you and held you in a dangerously strong embrace. It took him no less than a few seconds to start peppering light kisses on your left cheek and muttering sweet nonsense. He halted his ritual before starting to speak, his lips close to your ear. 'Y/N, sunshine, darling, I love you so much. You're so sweet and so nice to me that anytime you do anything trivial, I feel my heart flutter and I get the overwhelming urge to crush you -in a hug of course- and make you feel like the only woman in the world.'

He planted a gentle kiss next to your ear, and started again, 'I'm so happy that you can appreciate the person that you are. Though, of course, I'll make sure to live you 10 times more each and every day.' He crawled and placed himself on your lap, his body enveloping yours and showing no sign of letting go anytime soon.

'Tooru, the algebra?'

'Fuck maths, you're my favourite subject.'

'And so you see, he asked her out in front of everybody, and I mean everybody. She looked like she was going to die, poor girl. If I was ever in her shoes, I would've died honestly.'

'Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying. What did she say?'

Sitting on your dressing table's stool, you chatted off your Friday evening with Daichi, who was sitting on your bed, playing with an ugly plushie he personally found adorable. ("Anything that Y/N owns holds a beauty you two can't understand", Daichi, to Suga and Asahi upon seeing it for the first time.)

He giggled to himself poking the creature's nose, however, an aggressive rummaging around caught his attention. He watched you as you shoved your hands into drawers and more drawers in an attempt to find God knows what. 'Bubs, did you see where I put my rings before my shower?' You suddenly asked him, your voice leaving a hint of desperation behind.

'No, not really. Maybe they're in the living room.' He rose from the bed to assist you in your search, heading for the aforementioned part of the house.

After a few minutes of searching, you'd found them. Assembled in a neat order, on the bath room's counter were your rings. You let out a fatigued sigh and reached out to out them on one by one. Placing his head on your shoulder and his arms around your stomach, Daichi watched as you placed your accessories on. 'Ya' really like these rings, dontcha? Are they a gift from someone or?' He said.

You opened your mouth to speak a first time, then closed it. You were clearly thinking about what to say, and when you finally found the words, you tilted your head slightly to rest it on his. 'If giving yourself something was considered gifting and not splurging, then yes. I got them around the same time I promised myself to stop being a downer about who I am and to make a positive change. They're like, a reminder for my milestones, I guess you could say that.'

You weren't sure what to expect after that mouthful. Him to find your habit weird? Bizarre? Too cliché? Maybe, but it didn't matter what he was going to say, as he opted for a more physical approach. He buried his head against your neck, the sugary perfume you'd put on not too long ago still lingering. He intertwined his fingers with yours to then place kisses on each one of your rings and finally, the backs of your hands.

'Thank you for letting me know. It sounds a bit weird but getting to know something like that makes me closer to you. You're so perfect to me and definitely to other people, I'll make sure to never let you forget that.'

All of a sudden, he stood straight and stared off at the empty space.

'Y/N?'

'Yes?'

'Did we turn off the oven like your mother asked us to?'

↬ Berry's after-writing note: THIS IS SOOO OLDDDD IM SO SORRY ANON 😭😭😭 its funny how im tryna get back in the groove again even though school starts again tomorrow 💀

[agentmaxa]

New To This (Uswnt x Autism!Reader)

Request

Sorry for any mistakes, please enjoy.

Y/n walked into the locker room, pausing for a moment when some of the players looked in Y/n’s direction.

Getting to the locker, Y/n took off the headphones, getting the training gear on.

“Hey you’re the new kid, I’m Kelley.”

Y/n just grunted, focusing on tying the laces while avoiding looking at anyone else.

“Y/n.”

“You’re not the talkative type are you?”

Y/n didn’t respond in any way, closing the locker.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have you spilling your life story by the end of the camp.”

Y/n’s eyes widen when a squeak came out, quickly exiting the locker room.

Kelley looked at where Y/n was, curious.

“Let Y/n adjust. I’m sure the kid is all nerves, 16 and on the national team. There’s no way that’s not nerve-wracking.” Ali put her two cents in, seeing the exchange.

“Yeah.”

-----

Y/n was rethinking the whole thing, wishing the coach would have told the team about the whole autism thing. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that during drills.

Just glad today’s practice doesn’t involve a lot of communication.

Or so Y/n thought.

“Alright everyone, circle up!” The coach started to list off teams, drills turning into a game of scrimmage.

Once everyone was put on a team, the game started.

Y/n was holding back on the pitch, going from practice to competitive, wasn’t a strong suit.

“Come on L/n! Step it up!”

Y/n got nervous patting the outside thigh, noticing Kelley had the ball.

“O’Hara!” Kelley looked in Y/n’s direction but Y/n had already swiped the ball from the defender’s feet.

“Hey!”

Y/n started heading towards the goal, Alyssa getting ready. Kicking into the left corner, it graced Alyssa’s gloves, hitting the net.

Happy about making the goal, Y/n’s hand patted the outer thigh again.

Seeing Kelley approach Y/n got nervous, “Nice trick kid.” Kelley patted Y/n’s shoulder.

Y/n let out a squeak again, eyes wide, speed walking away from Kelley.

O’Hara tilted her head, watching Y/n go back to start, wondering what was going on.

-----

Y/n was hesitating to knock, hoping the team wouldn’t notice the bulge in the shirt Y/n was wearing.

Finally knocking, Sonnett opened the door with a smile, “Hey, you’re just on time.”

Team bonding. And it was required.

Y/n didn’t make any eye contact with anyone, just grunting when Sonnett opened the door. Sitting down next to Rose because every other spot seemed to be taken.

The team didn’t comment on what was causing Y/n’s shirt to bulge, some not even noticing it.

“Alright we have a few new faces, let’s do introductions. Just name and something interesting.”

Y/n paid attention to all of the introductions but froze when Rose finished.

Deep breaths, Y/n.

“I’m Y/n and this,” Y/n pulling the hand-sized stuffed animal from under the shirt, “is Tori.”

Most of the teammates looked at Y/n with curiosity.

“Tori helps me when I travel, Tori helps me with my autism.” Y/n held the elephant close, still ignoring eye contact.

“Tori is really cute, may I pet Tori?” Y/n grunted and held Tori out for Rose.

Rose petting the elephant gently, Y/n speaking again, “Interesting thing, I like outer space.”

The team smiled at Y/n, all of them starting with their own conversation, Rose and Y/n having their own about animals.

-----

Y/n had never really looked at social media or had anything to do with it but now being part of the national team it was part of the job.

The first media duty was an interview on the matches coming up.

“Is there anything that the team is doing differently this year to step up their game?”

“Becky, what have you been doing as a captain to further this team’s chance of success?”

“How is the team going to play differently with the new coach from the last Olympics?

Happy Y/n was allowed to sit cross-legged, holding Rose’s hand and playing with her fingers on occasion.

Y/n wasn’t sure how they did this regularly at times, being thrown question after question. Y/n was about to know that on the national team, you learn fast.

“Any comments on a 16 year old being allowed on the national team?”

Rose the one to speak, “Y/n has been with us for a little bit but from what Y/n has already provided to the team, I wouldn’t have anyone else in that spot.”

Y/n smiled in Rose’s direction, turning back to the press.

“Let me rephrase, with L/n’s autism and age how long do you think Y/n will last?” Commotion ran through the press when Y/n’s autism was mentioned.

That information wasn’t shared by Y/n yet and wasn’t publicly known but it got leaked somehow.

With all of the team ready to jump on the reporter, Y/n spoke up looking above the mass of people, “Longer than you’d think. I mean I can answer my own questions so I’m doing better than you.”

Some reporters snicker around the person, some of the team smiling at Y/n’s comment.

Once everyone started to quiet down the angry reporter raised his voice, “I’m doing my job, at this point I can certainly doubt you can even hit a ball.”

“I hope I don’t hit the ball.” Everyone was confused by Y/n’s words.

“You’re supposed to kick the ball in this sport.”

Some people chuckled at Y/n’s retort.

“You’re so childish!” At this point, security was heading toward the reporter to take him out of the press conference.

“I'm only 16 so yeah. What’s your deal?”

Almost all of the reporters and teammates cheered at the burn from Y/n.

Y/n was answering all of the questions honestly so there was a little confusion to the reactions but Y/n figured it was better than silence in this case.

For the rest of the conference, Y/n was asked a few more questions but other than that no one bothered Y/n.

-----

The second media duty was social media.

Y/n was sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth mumbling when Rose came into their room to check on Y/n.

“Hey, what’s going on Y/n?”

“Don’t like it, too much, don’t like it.” Rose noticed that Y/n’s phone was turned on and on the floor, the notifications making a constant sound.

Rose grabbed the phone and put it on silent, Y/n still rocking.

“Hey, it’s okay, take deep breaths.” Rose carefully touched Y/n’s knee, trying to get Y/n to focus on her.

Rose left the door open, too focused on making sure Y/n was okay so Sonnett, who was waiting for Rose walked in.

Sonnett went to Y/n’s side just like Rose did, “What happened?”

“I think Y/n got overwhelmed, stay here.”

Rose searched around the room, spotting what she needed on Y/n’s bed.

Grabbing Tori, Rose was back by Y/n’s side.

“Y/n, look who’s here.”

Y/n looked up for a moment, grabbing Tori, and holding the elephant tightly.

After a few minutes of Y/n calming down, Y/n was back, “Sorry, it was so much.”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, we’re just glad you’re okay.”

Y/n nodded. Rose promised to help Y/n out with the media.

After that Rose had helped Y/n mute some of the notifications, only allowing the really important ones. Y/n was then able to manage it better, still needing help from time to time.

All of the team would even trade off helping Y/n, really depending on what the issue was.

Y/n was just glad that the national team was a family more than anything.

[gifted-burnout-archive]

Who Would’ve Thought

Requested?: yes! so this is a mashup of sorts. I got three separate requests: the first being an interview scene with a bitchy reporter, the second a y/n x luke with some enemies to lovers and an argument, but the actors get on really well, and the third was for a similar teasing, y/n x luke concept. This doesn’t quite cover every part of each request, but it gets a bit of all of them in, ya know?

Word count:

Author’s Note: i think this is the point where i just accept i am a jatp smut writer, right? i mean, it was only a matter of time before it happened... i liked this, writing it was so much fun, if you like this and want more send it in to me!

Warning: this became fluffy smut, you’re very welcome.

the masterlist is here, because i have more stuff like this.

--

“Ok, ok.” The laughs around set subsided after Madison’s joke, the reporter sitting up a little straighter and coughing to compose himself. “I have to ask, and I have to know since that trailer dropped last week… Y/N, I think everyone watching wants to find out a bit more about you and the character you’re bringing to season two?” He asked, turning his attention from the show’s star to the young woman sat beside her, who was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, trying to stop laughing.

“What is it you want to know?” She asked, sharing a smiling with Madi as she too sat up straight in her chair once more, running a hand through her hair and crossing one leg over the other, all triggers to help her subside the giggles waiting to erupt from her chest, to calm down and get back to the professionalism she had practiced in her bedroom mirror.

“Well, for starters, what’s it been like, joining the Julie and the Phantoms crew? Am I right in saying this is your breakout role, just like it was for Madison last season?” He asked, and Y/N nodded, gripping Madi’s hand in hers.

“Yeah, it is. And I’ll tell you something, I wouldn’t have known what to do on day one without Madi. The closest I came to acting, to television, before this was when I played a tree in my kindergarten school play.” She explained, glancing past the reporter’s shoulder to see Kenny stood watching them with a grin, sending a thumbs up her way. Her body relaxed a little. “Yeah, I auditioned as a dare from a friend at college and, well…” She smiled wider. “Seems like the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“And from what I can tell, the rest of the cast sat in on your audition?” The reporter asked, looking to both girls for an answer.

“Not the first one.” Madi cleared up. “But Kenny and the casting team loved Y/N, and wanted to make sure she was the perfect fit. They had her perform on the sound stage, and the rest of us just sort of snuck in to watch.” She explained, letting go of Y/N’s hand to gesture as she spoke. “We were all just blown away, and Charlie was the first to shout out after she finished. He called out… What did he say?” Madi asked Y/N, who was laughing to herself at the memory.

“Kenny, will you hire her already?” Y/N answered, and the reporter chuckled again. “And from that moment on, I was Grace.”

“Yes, Grace, our mysterious new rebel child. What can you tell us about her?”

“Ok, so, we’ve got Kenny on standby in case I mess up and give away too much.” Y/N prefaced. “So, Grace is the new girl at Los Feliz High, Carrie’s cousin, and coming in with a bit of reputation where we left off season one. I think the best way to describe would be a musical influencer?” She glanced to Madi, who nodded in agreement. “Bit of a rebel, bit of a spanner in the works for Juke despite her and Luke quite adamantly disliking each other.” She added, and the reporter was nodding his head feverishly.

“Yeah, the trailer seemed to show it. Is that the character’s big goal, breaking up our OTP?” He asked, and Y/N bit her lip as she thought for a moment.

“I think she’s a character with a lot of growth, you get a lot from her in the season, which I was so honoured to bring to the table. We’re doing some reshoots tomorrow, finalising one of the big scenes the trailer didn’t show. I can’t say a lot, but Grace is definitely causing some tension this season, throwing in some music of her own too.” Y/N added, quick to change the subject of discussion to something she knew she was safe to talk on.

“What was it like, working with the rest of the cast on the new season’s album?” The reporter quizzed, taking the hint. “Madi, we heard you and Y/N singing together on the trailer, saw it in one of the stills, I can only wonder how two such talented singers get into each other’s rhythm, especially with the difference in genre. Obviously, Madi you have piano, but with Y/N on guitar, I just wonder how it all worked out while filming?”

“We actually wrote the song for the trailer, along with Charlie. The three of us brainstormed the thing for the first few weeks of filming, just like Charlie and I did with Perfect Harmony last season.” Madi explained. “And you know, we all come from very different musical backgrounds, and it allowed for this amazing mixture of pop and rock and grunge that just works. You only hear a snippet of our song, but just wait until you hear the full thing.” She was beaming, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile and nod along.

“The day we recorded it, man, we were all just electric. There’s this section with the guitars…” Y/N paused. “That I won’t spoil… You can tell this is my first press junket, right?” She laughed, earning chuckles from the studio. No-one blamed her for being new, she was learning quickly enough that it wasn’t a problem.

“So, on the topic of Charlie, who is waving at us right now from behind the camera,” The reporter paused as the girls laughed and waved past the camera recording them all at their co-star. “I have to ask about Julie and Luke, and now this new dimension of Grace.” The girls nodded, a question they both had expected and prepared for. “Madi, are we getting a Juke kiss this season?”

“I really can’t spoil it. It’s not fair… But their relationship does take a few turns, it’s a really interesting subplot.” She said with ease, a rehearsed line.

“And what about Grace? What are her feelings around Juke? Jealousy, perhaps?” The reporter questioned, and Y/N glanced over his shoulder to Kenny, who nodded for her to go ahead.

“Oh, she’s definitely jealous, though it might not be the reason you initially think of.” She said with a smile, quite proud of herself for keeping the answer vague enough, a light switching on on the camera to alert of their time finishing. Y/N smiled, getting herself ready to stand up, glad she had ended the interview on a good answer, when the reporter held up a hand for her and Madi to pause.

“And I mean, that chemistry seems to be translating off-screen too, no?” The reporter pressed on forward with his questions. “I mean, the chemistry you and Charlie have off-screen, Madison, is pretty clear. Is there jealousy off screen from you Y/N?” He asked, the questions turning from family-friendly to gossipy rather quickly. The executive producers stood behind the reporter had lost their smiles, Ortega and Becker ready to march forward and end the interview themselves.

But then, Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as a response, Madi quickly joining in one the sole base that Y/N was a rather infectious person. Soon, the whole cast was laughing along, the reporter left in the dark as the camera shut off and the girls left the press set stage in giggles, the crew suddenly moving quickly to start packing up for the night, the reporter being led off by assistants as the girls made their way over to their waiting friends and castmates.

The interview had been Y/N’s first and the team’s last of the day, and with the next day being their final shoot day for the season, the younger cast members had decided to celebrate and go out to dinner together, a pre-celebration to the wrap party the next day.

Stood by the studio’s exit was the rest of the dinner party: Jadah, Savannah, Owen, Tori, Sacha, Jeremy, Booboo, Tori, Kyra, Sofia, Halle, and Charlie, the last of whom swung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder as she and Madi joined the group, starting out for a restaurant on the far side of the lot.

“Not bad for a rookie, sweetheart.” Charlie spoke with a teasing tone, earning an elbow to the ribs from his friend. The pair had been inseparable for the whole year, since Y/N got the role in fact, and his arm across her shoulders was such a familiar and comforting feeling, that she found herself cuddling into him as they got out onto the lot and the Vancouver wind chill hit hard. Without pause, Charlie shrugged off his jacket and sat it over Y/N’s shoulders, the pair sharing a smile.

“You know, you should invest in shirts with sleeves, Gillespie.” She muttered, rolling her eyes as he responded with a smirk, flexing his biceps as his arm settled back over her, this time Y/N’s hand coming up and their fingers interlocking as they followed the group towards the restaurant. Madi and Savannah were up front with the other Dirty Candy girls, all singing one of the new songs from the show as they skipped their way across the lot, while Jadah, Sacha, Owen, Booboo and Jeremy were in the middle of the group, seemingly discussing what they were getting for dinner, confirmed when Owen started to rave about one of the desserts the restaurant had rather loudly.

Y/N watched the scene with a smile, watched all her friends with a smile. She knew she was lucky, she reminded herself of it every day she spent with the group of amazing people she had come to call her family. The move to Vancouver for filming was a huge shift, and she had initially thought she’d be alone and homesick, spending all her free time at her rented flat reading out scripts to her walls, but it hadn’t been the case. The cast had adopted her like she had been there since day one, they made her feel welcome and at home in the foreign city, Charlie especially. He was the one who got her out of her shell, who made sure to invite her to every dinner and party and hangout in the first few weeks of filming. He was the one who played guitar with her, who came and stayed with her for a week when she was unwell and stuck inside her little flat.

He was the one who was watching her at that moment in time, a dopey smile on his face as he pulled her closer into his side, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as they followed their friends round a corner, their destination that night coming into view, along with some extra familiar faces.

“Gotta be careful, Y/N, Charlie has a habit of passing on his fleas.” The teasing came from Charlie’s sister Meg, who slipped through the small crowd to hug her brother and his best friend hello.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been getting him treated.” Y/N responded with a grin, the pair sharing a tight hug before Meg moved on to squeeze her brother in hello, both girls smiling at his surprised expression.

“I didn’t know you were coming over.” He guffawed, his smile radiating as he hugged Meg tightly, Y/N moving off to greet Carolynn, Jeremy’s wife, who had also surprised with her appearance. By the look of pride on Owen’s face, it was pretty clear who had planned the gift for his friends. Y/N held out a fist to Owen, who quickly pounded his own against it before the girl continued walking, making her way to Savannah’s side as they found their table in the restaurant far corner, the pair getting themselves sat down. With the two playing cousins on the show, they had both made an effort to get closer, an effort Y/N had made with the whole cast, though her and Savannah got on like a house on fire: they were the same age, and had assumed the roles of big sisters to the younger cast members like Madison and Jadah.

“Charlie’s jacket looks good on you.” Savannah commented with a wink, and Y/N rolled her eyes, shrugging the item off just as Charlie and Meg entered the restaurant with Jeremy, Carolynn and Owen.

“You need to stop; you know Kenny has started commenting on what a good couple we’d make thanks to you?” Y/N questioned, and Savannah nodded with a proud smile. “I suppose you actively put the idea in his head?” She quizzed further, receiving another nod.

“We’re all just waiting for you to get together at this point.” Savannah said with a shrug, a few sets of eyes looking over.

“What, Y/N and Charlie?” Sacha asked from across the table. “Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“Every three months we start a pool and bet on specific dates for you two finally giving in and dating.” Booboo said through a mouthful of bread. “Whoever gets closest is going to be so, so rich.”

“How many people are in on this?” Y/N asked, wide eyed with raised eyebrows. It was new information, at least to her it was, but the rest of the table had heard it all before.

“Sixty three.” Tori answered, sending over a wink as the table burst into laughter, quickly shutting up as the final members of their party started sitting themselves down, Charlie sliding himself along the booth chair to sit beside Y/N, Meg on his other side.

“What’s the joke?” He asked with a cocked brow, and Y/N shook her head, warning him to not venture any further. “Better not to ask, got it.”

“So, we’re thinking of karaoke later?” Kyra spoke up from the top of the table, earning nods from around the table. “Perfect, I’ll book the room.” She said quickly, typing away on her phone to set the group’s plans for the evening in stone.

“Maybe Y/N and Charlie can give us their ABBA medley.” Jadah suggested with a wiggle of her eyebrows, sat on the other side of Savannah. Y/N gave her the finger while Charlie chuckled, throwing an arm over her shoulder.

“Come on, it wouldn’t hurt you, would it Y/N?” Charlie asked, using his best puppy dog eyes on the girl, who reached to grab a slice of bread before Booboo finished it all, chewing it thoughtfully.

“Only if Sacha is our Dancing Queen.” Y/N said with a happy sigh, the blonde boy across the table nodding quickly.

“Happy to do it. Yes. Yes.” He nodded fast, feigning a bow as the table cheered, Charlie looking over at Y/N with a soft smile. She smiled back before resting her head on his shoulder, a part of her still recuperating from the interview. How these guys had done multiple that day, how Madi had sat through almost every single one, Y/N couldn’t figure it out; but the thoughts faded away as menus were brought over and drinks ordered, setting the evening off on the right foot.

By the time food was placed down, the topic of conversation was focused on Carolynn and Jeremy’s dogs, the pair quite happy to show off photos of their fur babies as castmates ate around them, with brief interruptions to talk about the upcoming wrap party the day after, and discussions of the season two premiere plans the following month. With the filming almost finished up, everyone was making plans to head back home to families as they all awaited the news of renewal for a third season. Apartments in Vancouver were being packed up, Y/N herself had started the process of boxing up the life she had made over the past year in the city, with her friends, to ship back off home.

“You alright?” A whisper came into Y/N’s ear, pulling her from her zoned out state as she twirled spaghetti mindlessly round her fork, blinking a few times before looking over at Charlie, who watched her with concern in his eyes. She nodded a little, setting down her fork and taking a sip of her soft drink before shaking her head, lifting up Charlie’s beer and taking a swig, frowning at the taste but swallowing anyway.

“Just thinking about leaving is all.” She muttered back, shrugging a little before trying again on her pasta, eating a mouthful before continuing. “Just, what happens once we wrap for the season? What happens if the show doesn’t get renewed?” She asked quietly. “I don’t want to lose all you guys… I just got you.” She tried to make a joke of it, but the thought had been weighing on her mind for a while. Would they all stay friends? Keep in contact even though they would be spread over the globe?

“I can assure you, sweetheart, no-one will be losing contact with you. If any of these guys love you half as much as I do, they won’t be able to say goodbye to someone as awesome as you.” Charlie whispered in her ear, his hot breath fanning over her neck, and Y/N blushed a little, taking his free hand in hers and giving it a quick squeeze to say thank you.

“How’s it all going, everyone?” The server broke apart the moment and halted the rest of the table’s conversations, Y/N and Charlie quickly dropping their hands and turning back to their own meals as the rest of the table chorused compliments of the food, Booboo and Jadah insistent that dessert menus be brought along as soon as possible. A quick glance around the table revealed that Y/N was extremely far behind the rest of the table in finishing her meal, but her appetite had suddenly disappeared, most likely from the melancholy.

“Could I get a triple vodka coke?” Y/N asked the waiter before he left, smiling up at him as she closed her cutlery.

“Of course, miss. Anymore drinks?” He asked, jotting down a cocktail for Halle and another small glass of wine for Jeremy, disappearing back into the main body of the restaurant as the last few party members finished their meals, drinks arriving with dessert menus.

“A toast.” Jeremy raised his glass, prompting the rest of the table to follow suit. “To Julie and the Phantoms, to found family… And to another season.” He thought over the words as he spoke, Carolynn watching him with adoring eyes, their hands linked atop the table. The toast was met with cheers, Owen letting out a rather loud ‘Whoop!’ as glasses were clinked and drinks were sipped, the night only just beginning.

--

Kenny Ortega was rather glad he had left Y/N and Charlie’s big confrontation scene for their last day of shooting, and after walking into work the following day and finding, quite literally, everyone glued to their phone screens, he decided to check his own Instagram.

The night before had been a success for the young cast, and after dinner the group had travelled into the centre of town for a night of drinks and karaoke, the evening’s highlight being the video that was circulating that morning, of Charlie and Y/N sharing a mic as they sang ‘Waterloo’ by ABBA: Owen had caught the whole thing and put it on his story.

That video was also followed by a photo of Y/N and Charlie sleeping on the couch together at Owen and Charlie’s place later that night.

There was a level of professionalism that had to be maintained in a workplace for productivity, but the ‘something more’ friendship the two guitarists shared had caught the attention of the whole team. It had started betting pools and conspiracies and a game amongst the team to catch pictures of the pair acting like a couple. The kids had started it, of course, but seeing the way the two interacted both on and off-screen had gotten the rest of the crew involved. There was an undeniable connection there, and the waiting game was part of the fun.

And so, as the cast started to arrive for the 12 pm call time on location at the garage, all the reshoots that day needing midday sunshine, no-one was surprised to see Charlie carrying Y/N into work on his back as the pair shared a joke. In fact, they were quite excited to see how they would react to the final scene they had to shoot.

Kenny had given them both the script the week before, but refrained from discussing it with the pair until that day, partially pressured by the likes of Savannah and Owen, simply because an authentic kiss, without the practice or specific instruction from the director, would make for better tv. The plan was to get some close ups, positioning them for certain moments, then run it through once, getting as many extra shots as possible, with the hope being they could do it in one take. At best, it would work, and at worst, both Charlie and Y/N were still actors, and could make a kiss look real.

It took about an hour or so for the cast to get through the makeup, hair and costume departments, and Kenny pulled in Jeremy, Owen and Madi for some reshoots first, leaving Y/N wandering with a bottle of water in one hand and her script in the other, pacing back and forth as she ran the lines over and over again in her head.

The scene was an important one, the start of Juke’s conflict for the season, of Grace’s and Julie’s friendship being tested. From what else the girls had filmed over the past few months, it was clear that the season would leave their friendship on a cliff-hanger, this scene being the catalyst. And it was funny for Y/N, to go from her friendship with Charlie to being Grace, the girl that hated Luke. It took her a little while to get into the right headspace, though it wasn’t easy with all eyes on her, nor with the teasing she was receiving from friends about the night before, and her crashing at Charlie’s. It wasn’t news, Y/N sleeping over at Charlie’s, or vice versa; it was common place actually, after the first few months of friendship it just became a norm for them.

Grace’s character arc was one of reckless abandon, and she almost becomes a bad influence on Luke’s bandmates with her risky ideas and rebellious attitude. They had shot the previous scene, in which Julie falls down the school bleachers while with Grace and twists her ankle badly, the character very lucky it wasn’t worse. And Luke, already disliking Grace, confronts her when the girl comes looking to apologise. The tension that they had built over the season boils over, and Grace kisses Luke, the first time either of them have touched before.

Y/N was a little nervous about that last part.

She was an actress, but it would be her first on-screen kiss, and while the thought of it being with her best friend should have eased her mind, it did anything but. Kissing Charlie, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was probably going to be awkward, cause a rift between the two for at least a little while. And that would have been fine, if they weren’t all heading off home to separate corners of the world for however long.

“You look worried.” It was Owen’s voice that pulled her from her thoughts, the girl turning to find him leaning against the prop table nearby, arms folded and a look of concern on his face. “You alright?” He asked, glancing back over at the set. Jeremy and Madison were still getting some reshoots done, and Charlie was with Savannah and Booboo over in costumes, chatting away as the seamstress sat his clothes just right.

“I don’t really know…” Y/N admitted, looking back at Owen with a shrug. “I mean, I just…” She paused, letting out a sigh. “I’m worried things might be weird? Worried I might suck at the whole kissing thing, ruin the last scene we have to shoot?” She explained, glancing back down at her script as Owen watched on, thoughtful.

“Y/N, you’re a good actress. If the last year has proved anything, it’s that you are meant for this role. You’ve just gotta… You’ve gotta embody Grace, don’t think of it as you and Charlie anymore, because I know that’s what you’ve been doing for the past week. It’s Luke and Grace, yeah?” Owen stopped to make sure Y/N was following, and she nodded. “We need to get you into that headset before we start, alright? You know how to be Grace; you need to get into her before the cameras start rolling. I mean, you’re already dressed like her.” Owen gestured to the clothes she was in, and Y/N smiled.

She did already feel a bit like Grace in the outfit, style choices she had helped to make at the start of the season. To contrast from Carrie, she offset her cousin’s pink and preppy wardrobe with dark colours: Y/N was currently in black jumper with red detailing, paired with a short, tight black denim skirt and a belt that pulled in her waist, plus the fishnet tights and sturdy doc martens her character would soon be known for. Those shoes were the only pair she had worn all season. The makeup and hair team had left her looking flawless, with her hair curling and her eyeliner in a perfect wing.

The more she thought about Owen’s words, the less anxiety she felt.

The more she felt like Grace.

“Ok, ok… We’re getting somewhere.” She informed her friend, Owen holding out an arm for Y/N to link with, the pair beginning a sure march over towards the set, watching Madi finish the last few takes.

“You need anything else?” Owen asked, raising an eyebrow to the shorter girl when she nodded, watching her take a deep breath.

“Put on some music? Just… Something fun?” Y/N asked, having faith that music would completely rid her of her nerves for the scene. Kenny called cut, Madi and Jeremy making their way off set with smiles as they headed towards Owen and Y/N, the blonde boy connecting his phone to the nearby Bluetooth speaker while the set was changed for her and Charlie’s scene.

“I can’t believe this is the end of season two… Y/N? You ok?” Jeremy commented then questioned as he came over with Madison, the latter reaching a comforting out to Y/N’s arm.

“She’s getting in the zone.” Owen explained, finally deciding on a song, the music playing around them and earning a few cheers from the other cast mates, Charlie looking over from where he stood with Savannah and Booboo, his eyes landing on Y/N, who had begun swaying along with the song. She had a habit of this, using music to get into character, though it was usually through headphones in some far off corner.

“Loving you isn’t the right thing to do.” The speaker sang out the Fleetwood Mac hit, Booboo and Savannah beginning to dance along by Charlie as he watched Y/N from across the room, curious as to what she might do. “How can I ever change things that I feel?” Lindsey Buckingham’s voice resonated around the room, and Charlie took a step closer to his main castmates, watching as Madi held Y/N’s hand, quickly realising why the music was blaring.

Y/N was nervous.

“If I could, baby I’d give you my world.” The tracks vocals were overshadowed as Charlie began to sing, heads spinning to look at him as he spun himself around and started his way towards Y/N. “How can I, when you won’t take it from me?” He sang, holding out a hand for her to join him. They were both well aware that two things in particular made Y/N feel better: the first was music, the second was Charlie. With a push from Madi and Owen, Y/N could no longer hide the smile that was forming on her face, taking Charlie’s hand as he led her into a space in the room’s centre. While the crew set up for their scene, cast and producers watched on as the pair got into character.

“You can go your own way!” Y/N sang out, spinning under Charlie’s arm with a grin that scrunched up her nose and made Charlie smile right back, singing the response harmony of the chorus. “You can call it another lonely day!” The pair sang together, Kenny himself starting a clap in time with the music, the whole set soon joining in, cheering the pair on as they got themselves into character.

“Tell me why, everything turned around. Packing up, shacking up is all you wanna do.” Charlie sang scowling at Y/N with his rather adorable grumpy face, and Y/N held a hand out to stop him from coming any closer, playing the part of Grace.

“If I could, baby I’d give you my world. Open up, everything’s waiting for you.” She sang, bouncing a little as she sang, shaking away the last of her nerves as the second chorus came in, the whole room singing along now.

“You can go your own way, go your own way. You call it another lonely day!” As the crew finished setting up the garage for their scene, Charlie grabbed Y/N’s hand as squeezed it tightly.

“We’ve got this, alright?” He reassured, and she nodded, the pair getting into places as the music slowly died down and their fellow castmates and crew members cheered.

“Feeling better?” Kenny asked as the two got into positions, Charlie sat inside the garage as Y/N stood just beyond the doors, being handed a bouquet of flowers by the props manager.

“A lot, yeah.” She smiled, and Kenny gave her shoulder a pat.

“Just go for it, alright? Give it everything, give it electricity, you’ve got this.” His motivational words brought a smirk to Y/N’s face.

“I know I do.” She answered with a nod, Kenny walking back to behind the cameras and taking a seat, Y/N taking a one more moment to focus herself before Kenny yelled ‘action!’.

--

Grace wasn’t used to feeling guilty about anything, it just wasn’t a part of the life she enjoyed: she wasn’t an inherently bad person, though it could be argued she was a bad influence. As she stood in Julie’s driveway, a bouquet of flowers in hand, she felt like a bad influence. No, worse than that.

She felt like a bad friend.

Julie wouldn’t be in this mess if Grace hadn’t convinced her to go out with her the night before. Of course, she should have known that this time of year, with the uncommon rainfall and milder weather, that the bleachers would have been slippery. Grace should have suggested going somewhere else, shouldn’t have rushed up the steps and forced Julie to follow.

And while flowers weren’t going to help a lot with the twisted ankle, she hoped they’d lift Julie’s spirits a little. The doctors said it wasn’t serious, just a week or so in a pressure sock to stop anymore damage, and Julie had promised her the day before she was fine, but even so. Grace had picked out dahlias, Julie’s favourite, and was hoping to bump into Alex or Reggie or Carlos, leave them with her apology for Julie without much confrontation.

Instead, heading up the driveway and pulling open the garage door, she was welcomed by the sound of an acoustic guitar, and a frown settled on her features. Of course, of all the people it could have been, Luke was the one at home.

“What are you doing here?” He asked quickly, jumping up from the couch and setting down his guitar. Grace sighed, a roll of her eyes causing Luke to scoff.

“You know, I’d punch you if I could ghost boy.” She muttered, setting the flowers down on the coffee table. “I just wanted to leave something for Julie, alright? Don’t get your…” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you have underwear? I mean, ghost clothing isn’t exactly my specialty.”

“You’ve got some nerve showing up here after what you did to Julie.” Luke said coldly, arms folded across his chest as they stood at opposite sides of the room. He took a few steps to the side, lifting himself up onto the piano. Luke liked to have the high ground.

“What I did to her? Luke, she fell over. It was an accident!” She exclaimed in response, already riled up just being in the boy’s presence. She wasn’t quite sure why she had been cursed with the ability of being able to see Luke at all times, but she wasn’t going to let her annoyance with the guitarist go unsaid.

“An accident that could’ve killed her!” Luke snapped back. “What if she had hit her head instead of just twisting her ankle? Can you answer me that Miss Influencer?” He asked, and for the first time since the pair had met, Grace didn’t answer him back. Luke scoffed; quite certain he had won. “I don’t know what voodoo you put my friends under to make them like you, but I promise I see right through you. Through the clothes and the Instagram followers. All of it.”

“Do you think I wasn’t scared for her? Huh, Luke?” Grace snapped back. “I was the one there, watching her fall down the bleachers, the one who rushed after her and called her dad. Where were you, exactly?” She asked, a smirk settling on her lips. “You know, Lover Boy, if I remember correctly, you were off moping because I’m a better guitarist.” Her tongue came out to graze her bottom lip as she smiled, walking over to Luke’s electric that sat on a nearby stand.

“First off, you aren’t. It’s quite clear who’s better between the two of us.” Luke fought back, jumping off the table and marching over to pick up his guitar before Grace touched it. “And second, I wouldn’t have left her if you hadn’t been there. Because actually, Grace, it’s you that’s the problem!” He had raised his voice as he walked back across the room, setting his guitar atop the piano. Grace scoffed; he just didn’t want her touching his things.

“Right, because Julie can’t have friends if it’s not you, right?!” She was almost yelling now as well, but it was to be expected of the pair. Every conversation they had had was building to this argument. Every conversation they had shared was just bickering. “Hey Mr Invisible Man, news flash! Your crush is allowed to have relationships outside of you! I realise being dead is probably very boring, but Julie’s alive.”

“I just don’t think my friends should be associating with someone as infuriating as you, Grace!” Luke turned to face her again, all wide eyes and gestures. “I didn’t think I could hate people before I met you! I’ve had my music stolen; I’ve almost been enslaved for eternity; I died! And yet, the person I despise most in this world is you. Congratulations!”

“I take it as a compliment! You know, I’m honestly proud that I’m not friends with a self-centred, arrogant, inconsiderate, overbearing jerk. If anyone is fooling our friends Luke, it’s you.” The words were quick and cold, and Luke found himself marching forward until the pair stood about a foot apart, Grace forced to to look up at him, keeping big her chin high.The words were quick and cold, and Luke moved a few steps closer, and Luke moved a few steps closer, the pair a few feet apart, glaring one another down.

“They aren’t our friends, Grace. My friends are just too nice to leave you hanging.” Luke voice had lowered in volume, but the venom was still there as he took a step closer, then another. “You act all mysterious, but you’re an open book, Grace. You’re a lonely girl with a taste of relevance. That’s it.”

“Like you aren’t the same?” Grace asked, stepping forward so the pair were no more than a foot apart. “Quit pretending you aren’t still the lonely kid who ran away from home in 1995, give up the high and mighty act.” She paused, looking him over with a smirk. For a moment, she forgot he was just air.

“I know who I am.”

“Do you?” Grace asked. “That’s not what I see.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Luke countered.

“And vice versa, ghost boy.”

“I know you’re manipulative, and cold. I know you’re insufferable to be around.” Luke stated firmly, his voice low and laced with malice.

“Anything else to share?” Grace asked. “Or are you done?”

“This is exactly what I mean.”

“You don’t know me!” Grace answered back. “You don’t know why I’m here or where I came from, or what I came from. You don’t get to tell me who I am or what I do or how I act when you have made zero attempts to check your information. I know you because I ask about you! I can call you an arrogant, self-serving halfwit because I actually have tried to figure out why you hate me so much!” She paused for a second, Luke watching in surprise. He didn’t quite feel bad for Grace, but something was building in him, something foreign he had buried away. “If you knew anything about me, you would know what I’m about to do next.”

“What? Leave?” He guessed, his tone still harsh and hostile, but his answer was incorrect. It was quick, something Luke couldn’t process fast enough; but within a second of his reply being given, Grace had somehow managed to touch him, holding her hands to his neck and pulling him down to her level before pressing her lips against his.

—

Y/N and Charlie both had plenty of experience kissing people, but neither of them had felt like that before.

The moment Y/N’s lips were pressed to Charlie’s, it felt like a thousand butterflies had exploded to life in her stomach, the feeling of his lips on hers making her lightheaded. Charlie’s hands immediately came to Y/N’s waist, pulling her so their bodies were flush and her fingers found their way into the curls at the back of his head.

There was a moment there, as the pair held one another, as they kissed one another, that the rest of the world melted away. One of Charlie’s hands moving from Y/N’s waist to her cheek set the skin on fire, had her heart pounding like it was trying to break out of her chest, had her knees going weak that the only way to stay upright was to pull back, to rejoin reality.

It was only as she looked up at Charlie, still dress like Luke, her peripherals reminding her where she actually was, that a shaky breath left Y/N’s body, and she took a step back. Out of Charlie’s embrace, towards the garage doors she had entered the scene through.

“Make sure Julie gets the flowers… I…” She spoke as Grace, shaking her head in disbelief before exiting out of the garage, leaving Luke, or Charlie, dumbfounded. She couldn’t tell anymore if it was real or acting, the lines had blurred a fair amount.

“And that’s a wrap!” Kenny yelled from behind the cameras, the deafening sound of the cast and crew cheering forcing Y/N to slow her pace, to quickly get accustomed to the noise before joining in. A rather large part of her head was telling her to run and hide, to disappear and never return, to book it for the airport and save herself the embarrassment of her flushed cheeks, of seeing Charlie after what she just felt with his lips on hers.

Her eyes eventually travelled up to see Charlie coming off the set with Kenny in one side of him and Jeremy on the other, Madi and Owen walking over to meet them, the latter waving her over quickly with a grin.

“That was amazing to watch!” Kenny was raving when Y/N arrived over, hands clasped behind her back as the director turned his attention to her. “What did I ask for? Y/N, you nailed it! You both did! The whole place was just electric.” He complimented, Charlie letting out a breezy chuckle as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“What can I say? You hired some great actors, Kenny.” Charlie felt off saying the words, glancing over at Y/N as he said them, the pair sharing a weak smile. What Charlie had felt while the cameras rolled was definitely not something he faked for the screen. His stomach was still in knots, trying to untangle itself after the way Y/N had kissed him left him speechless.

What exactly was he supposed to do? That information had the ability to ruin the friendship he and Y/N had, he couldn’t risk losing her so permanently. He knew Y/N, if they talked about how he felt kissing her and didn’t feel the same way, Y/N would distance herself from any and all contact, and with them all heading home by the week’s end, it was the last thing Charlie wanted to happen.

“That I did.” Kenny agreed, glancing at his watch. “Right, I’ll let you all go and get out of costume. Wrap Party begins in an hour.” He said with a nod, patting Y/N lightly on the shoulder as he left.

There was a moment of silence between the five of them, an uncommon occurrence, no-one quite sure who should speak first. Instead of speaking, Y/N gave Madi’s arm a squeeze before heading off to the costume department to get out of Grace’s head. Maybe the thoughts of Charlie would clear up once she was back in her own clothes, her own headspace.

The four friends watched her walk off, waiting until she had rounded a corner before Charlie received three pairs of hands punching his arms playfully and shaking him, all their of his on-screen band mates barely able to contain their excitement.

“What, what?” Charlie asked, taking a step back to avoid further battery.

“What?!” Madi exclaimed. “That kiss! Charlie, we all know that wasn’t acting.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone in Vancouver could tell that wasn’t acting.” Jeremy added with a grin, nudging his friend who was slowly getting some colour in his cheeks.

“You guys are all insane.” He said quickly, starting his way over towards makeup, but his friends were hot on his tail, none of them letting this budge. Not again: Charlie and Y/N had gotten away with their flirty behaviour plenty of times before, but this was different.

“You should at least talk to her about it.” Owen said with a grin, hands stuffed in his pockets as they entered the trailer and Charlie sat down, helping himself to makeup wipes and removing the thin layer of foundation on his face. “Charlie, come on… I know that your eyes were closed, but we watched you two kiss. If you’re feeling something, Y/N is feeling it too. There’s no way you both faked that.”

“I’m not ruining my friendship with Y/N over a stage kiss.” Charlie said quickly, pulling off his shirt and switching for his own clothes, looking up as the door opened and Sacha came in with Savannah and Tori, the seven all sharing glances.

“Convinced him to go for it yet?” Tori asked after a moment, and Charlie rolled his eyes, jumping out the chair and walking past his friends. “Oh, come on Charlie! It’s clear you both like each other!”

“Tori’s right!” Madi agreed, first in following Luke out onto the trailer lot. “Why are you so hesitant?” She asked, and Charlie came to a quick stop, spinning on his heel to look at his friends.

“I’m going to go see Y/N. Not because of whatever fantasies you all have in your heads, but because I want to make sure my friend is alright.” Charlie explained, though his words didn’t seem to convince any of them. That was fair, he didn’t convince him. “I’ll see you all at the wrap party, ok?” He clarified, but before he got an answer he made his way into the maze of trailers, taking the precise turns needed to get to Y/N’s trailer.

As he turned onto her row, Charlie found himself slowing to a stop about two trailers away, and taking a nervous gulp. Why, why had it taken so long for him to figure out his feelings? Why was it only once they had kissed that he felt all this emotion surging to the surface? For a moment he wondered if it was just his body reacting to kissing a pretty girl, but he knew that wasn’t the truth. Not in the slightest.

The truth was Charlie wanted nothing more than to feel that ecstasy that came with Y/N’s lips on his all the time, and he quickly formed a do or die plan in his head as his feet started back up, bringing him to the steps up to Grace’s trailer. Her name was pasted with gold sticker on the white door, the tension quickly building in Charlie’s chest.

Do or die.

The polite triple tap on the door hurried Y/N’s getting ready, the girl quickly zipping up her dress before slipping on her shoes for the night and answering the trailer door, the butterflies exploding in her stomach as she found Charlie stood in front of her door.

“Got a second? I was hoping we could talk…” Charlie said quickly, hands shoved in his pockets, a nervous smile on his face that had Y/N thinking the worst. This was about the kiss, it was about how awkward he felt about it, no doubt. She knew her anxiety before it was right, she knew that this would ruin things.

“Of course, come on in.” She said with a little smile moving back onto the trailer and allowing Charlie to make his way inside. As Y/N turned to pick up her phone off the table and place it into her handbag for the party that night, Charlie closed the door behind him with a nervous breath. He watched her for a few moments, smiling at her absentminded humming of the song they had sang together while she packed her things away for the party tonight. He took a step closer, running a hand through his hair and straightening his top up, psyching himself up for what he was about to do. She had changed for the party, and Charlie couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked in the baby blue sundress. “So,” Y/N asked as she started to turn around. “What is it you want to tal-”

Y/N was cut off when Charlie gripped her by the waist and crashed his lips against hers, not that she minded in the slightest. She was quick to kiss back, her hands coming to his neck as his hands pulled her closer until their bodies were flush. Whatever worry Y/N had been having about what their characters’ kiss would do to her and Charlie’s relationship was evaporated by the heat, the passion, the electricity of his lips on hers.

Charlie was hit with relief when Y/N kissed him back, when she pulled him closer, just thankful that she might have felt exactly what he did on set. He was about to pull away, apologise for what he was doing, for intruding and not letting her ask her question, but as he pulled back to take a breath, Y/N caught his bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and Charlie was gone.

He pulled her close again, this time his tongue entering her mouth and starting a battle for dominance against Y/N. His hands travelled towards her ass, only gaining control of the kiss when he surprised Y/N by picking her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as her dress rode up her thighs, hands moving from his neck to grip the front of his shirt, breaking off the kiss for a moment.

They looked at one another, breathing heavy and pressed to one another, both just trying to comprehend what they had done. Y/N was the first to catch her breath, looking up at Charlie with a blush across her cheeks and blown pupils.

“No-one’s ever kissed me like that…” She whispered out, smiling as a smirk played on Charlie’s lips.

“Same.” He responded, walking over and setting her down on the trailer’s kitchenette counter, a hand coming to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re… We’re idiots, right? For not realising it before?” He asked, and Y/N laughed.

“The amount of time we’ve wasted…” She muttered before pulling him for another kiss.

It quickly became heated again, neither of them quite able to control themselves. It was tongues and teeth and moans, and it wasn’t long before Charlie was leaving a hickey on Y/N’s neck and she was pulling off his shirt, quickly reminded of her friend’s body… God, he was hot.

“How long until the wrap party?” Y/N asked through a moan as Charlie pulled away from her collarbones, marks scattered over the skin Y/N would struggle to hide. He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time before setting it on the counter beside her.

“About 10 minutes…” Charlie answered, raising an eyebrow when Y/N bit her lip. “What did you have in mind?” He asked, stepping closer, his hands running up the sides of her thighs as he did, pushing her dress up further until he could catch a glimpse of the pastel pink panties she had chosen to wear that day, causing him to groan a little. He could feel his blood rushing down, his jeans becoming tighter around the groin.

“Well, I mean… We’re two consenting adults…” She trailed off for a second, her hands starting on his belt buckle in an uncharacteristically bold move. Charlie’s head fell back as her hand brushed against his bulge, breathing getting heavier once more. “And I’m on the pill…” She added, pushing Charlie’s jeans down slightly, then his boxers, her hand circling his shaft and beginning to stroke it slowly. She was teasing him, waiting for a response, an innocent look on her face that drove Charlie wild. He quickly pulled her panties off, tossing them to the floor and bringing a hand back to her core.

“So wet… And all just for me.” Charlie smirked as Y/N’s expression changed from feigning innocent to one of pleasure: a whimpering moan passing her lips as her eyes fluttered shut, a reaction to Charlie’s thumb circling her clit. “You know, all you had to do was ask.” He whispered in her ear, more of a growl than anything, quickly lining his cock to her entrance and pushing himself inside.

They shared in a moan, Y/N adjusting to the size of his length inside her for a moment, her walls clenched tight around him. They stayed like that for a moment, both adjusting to the feelings, before Charlie’s thumb started up its lazy circles around Y/N’s clit once more. She gave a nod, and Charlie pulled back, this time sinking himself all the way inside her.

They started slow; Charlie enjoying the view of Y/N whimpering in pleasure as she held onto him, begging for him to go faster. He didn’t comply right away, teasing her further with his length, but when she managed to utter out a ‘please’, the bucking of his hips quickened, Y/N’s whole body soon dissolving in the pleasure.

Neither of them had any experience with heaven, but if it was even half as good as the sex they shared, the afterlife would be amazing. Their bodies just worked together, like they were made for one another, each thrust and moan sending pleasure shooting through their bodies. Charlie set the pace, making sure to watch Y/N’s reactions when he changed angle, quickly finding the thrusts that gave her the most pleasure through lidded eyes, and Y/N would tease him further, her walls hugging his cock just enough to have him slipping out curses mixed with her name. It didn’t take very long for Y/N’s legs to begin trembling, Charlie’s hands spreading her thighs further apart as the knots began forming in her stomach, one of his hands moving to hold the small of her back while the other returned to his spot over her sensitive bud.

“Charlie… Charlie I’m close.” Y/N managed to say through breathy moans as the knots in her abdomen got progressively tighter, Charlie moving slightly to find a better angle, beginning to pound mercilessly into her cunt, a smirk on his lips. Her mouth formed into an ‘o’, her eyes rolling back behind hooded lids dusted with eyeshadow for the party that night, the one they were meant to be arriving at 5 minutes earlier.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He muttered, pressing his lips down on her collarbone as Y/N came undone at his words, the spasms of pleasure bringing forward Charlie’s own release, the smirk quickly fading as he felt his own climax approaching. “Fuck… Y/n, fuck…” Charlie muttered, his thrusts quickly becoming sloppy as he edged on Y/N’s climax, letting out a moan as he shot his load, his head rolling back and his muscles flexing as he filled Y/N, prompting an aftershock to run through the girl, eliciting whimpers from her shuddering frame.

Charlie soon stilled, both of them panting as they came down from their highs, Charlie’s hands on Y/N’s back the only thing keeping her vertical. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead gently before pulling out, letting out a hiss from the over-sensitivity as Y/N giggled through a whine.

“Jesus…” She muttered, taking a moment before slipping off the counter, lifting her panties from the floor as Charlie tucked himself back into his jeans and grabbed his t-shirt, the clothing item having landed on the back of the nearby couch. “I’m… I’m gonna clean up.” She informed him, unable to stop smiling as she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Charlie to smile to himself and fall back on the couch with a beaming grin.

How had any of that actually happened?

He sat back up when Y/N came out of the bathroom, her hair fixed and her dress straightened again, though the blush on her cheeks and nose still remained. Charlie smiled and pulled himself off the couch, walking over to her and quickly pressing his lips to hers. She kissed back, the action shared between them soft and sweet this time around, though it still caused butterflies to erupt in both of their stomachs.

“I was thinking… I know you’ll need to go back home and visit family, obviously… But maybe you could spend a few weeks at my place in LA?” Charlie suggested his thumb rubbing against Y/N’s cheek as they held eye contact. “Meet my parents, maybe?” He added with a nervous chuckle. They had planned for her to meet his mom and dad at some point, and him hers, more for the fact they wanted their parents to know their best friend, but that had obviously changed… Best friends don’t fuck half naked in a trailer on their filming lot.

“I would love that… But you have to come home with me afterwards.” Y/N said with a smile, letting out a sweet laugh as Charlie nodded vigorously, the pair locking lips once more.

That night, when Charlie and Y/N walked into the wrap party with their hands interlocked, there was a relief that sat in the air for the cast and crew. Finally, after a year of betting pools and theories and who only knew what else, it seemed the two had finally stopped being idiots and acted on their feelings. It was confirmed when during a slow song, Charlie pulled Y/N onto the dance floor, the pair sharing a kiss as the music played.

On the side lines, it was Meg, Charlie’s sister, of all people who stood collecting cash from crew members. She had got herself in on the betting pool last time she visited, and had guessed the exact date the pair would finally take their next step.

The question of Charlie and Y/N’s budding relationship should have been a ‘who would’ve thought?’, but, in reality, everyone knew. From Madi to Kenny to literally everyone on the entire planet…

Except for Charlie and Y/N.

--

Tags: @lord-of-the-fried @lolychu @deadashcapper5 @aliceinemeraldcity @eries45 @kristencoontz @walkingonshunshine @wxshing-aep @oswin05 @voguesir @delicatelukepatterson @reggieandthereggies @siennanoelle01 @dxsxstxrhxxd @reggiesleatherjacket @a-whole-a-lot-of-fandoms @thetattooink @futuremrsb-r-main @charliessunset @mlt2000 @overlyhypedup @fangirlanonimax @writerinlearning @dxlanhxlland @manaoioahilinai @cocobuttababy @rosiemay02​ @crookedoperatoroperagarden @theatricalfangirl​ @middaydramatic @mloudfish @mps427​ @sweetdayme4427 @anagc-09​ @feliamtion​ @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned​ @caitsymichelle13​ @amortiff​ @lovesanimals​ @crappy-unicorn​ @avs-hart​ @ghostlyb1tch​ @lukeys-giggle @aunicornmademedoit @carleywhittaker @crybabyddl​ @writella​ @isabellaskyliner​ @moonyxnights​ @dmcfarland1​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @kcd15​ @ellepscal​ @bookdealer5​ @leahstypewriter​

(i’m doing really badly at tagging everyone who asks, so i’ll be sorting out my taglist around halloween to make sure i can keep all of you up to date on my writing!)

[triptuckers]

Like a dream - Kaz Brekker

Request: yes “Hello dear! Could I request an x reader with Kaz Brekker where he and the reader touch for the first time? I know that his touch aversion is a big deal so I imagine touching for the first time is a huge goal.” Pairing:  Kaz Brekker x reader Summary:  You had a dream in which you felt Kaz’ fingers on your skin, and it felt real but too good to be true. Until you tell Kaz about your dream the next morning. Warnings: mentions of Kaz’ touch aversion but that’s it Word count:  2K A/N: I still cannot get over the fact that freddy is the PERFECT kaz everyday I wake up and go hmmm yea he’s the perfect kaz <3 enjoy reading! 

Nights off in Ketterdam are rare. Normally, you always run off to do whatever activities you couldn’t do on a daily basis. But tonight, you’re tired. You don’t want to waste a rare night off by sleeping.

But given you’re too tired to actually do anything, and too stubborn to go to bed, you’re currently sitting on the couch in Kaz’ office. You’re curled up on one side and reading a book. 

Or rather, you’re trying to read a book. You keep re-reading the same words and occasionally your chin drops to your chest. But you fight off your tired body, telling yourself you should enjoy this rare peaceful moment in the Barrel. 

Kaz is sitting at his desk, frowning as he looks over several detailed maps of the city, silently mouthing words as he’s thinking. Every once in a while, you lower your book to sneak a glance at him. He’s so concentrated he doesn’t notice you. At least, you don’t think he does. 

Every time you look at him, Kaz feels your eyes on him. He then waits a minute or so before looking your way. 

Kaz rarely has a good night’s sleep, and everyone knows he’s not the one to just take naps during the day. He can tell you’re not like him. More than once you’d fallen asleep on his couch, and he doubts tonight is going to be any different. 

After a couple more minutes of you trying to read but not turning a page of your book, Kaz speaks up.

‘You can stay here tonight, if you’d like.’ he says.

You look up to see him looking at the maps in front of him. You smile and shake your head, though he doesn’t see it.

‘No, it’s fine.’ you say. ‘I’ll just go to my own room before I fall asleep.’

Kaz nods and you turn your attention back to the book in your hands. Though you’re tired, you don’t feel like going to your own room just yet. Moments like these with Kaz are rare, and you intend to enjoy every minute of alone time you can get with him. 

Most of the times it’s hard to get his mind off business even when it’s just the two of you. A lot of the conversations you have somehow always end up to be about whatever job he was planning in his head.

But moments like these had always been your favorite. Both you and Kaz just doing separate things, but still enjoying each other’s presence. You wished every night could be like this.

Your eyes move slower and slower across the page, looking at the words but  not remembering them. Your blinking turns into shutting your eyes for several seconds until eventually, sleep takes over.

When Kaz doesn’t hear from you or feel your eyes on him for a while, he looks up at you. His features soften when his eyes fall on you, asleep on the couch, still holding the book you were reading in your hand. 

He takes the small watch out of his pocket. You fought sleep off longer than he thought you would. 

Kaz stands up and walks over to you. He carefully takes off your boots, trying not to wake you. After placing them on the ground next to the couch, he takes the book out of your hands, marks the page and sets it aside as well. He shrugs off his coat and places it over your body as a blanket.

You stir and mumble a very sleepy ‘m not tired’, which makes Kaz smile. Soon after the words left your lips, your breathing turns slow and steady, and Kaz makes his way to the sink to was his face and hands before getting ready for bed as well.

He takes his time as he slowly tugs off the gloves and washes his hands. Kaz splashes some water in his face and runs a hand through his hair. When he crosses the office to get to his room, he stops to look at you one last time.

You look very peaceful, asleep on his couch and with his coat covering the majority of your body. He walks over to you and notices that one of your hands is on the couch next to your head.

You knew of his touch aversion, and Kaz is convinced he couldn’t find anyone else who was as patient as you are. You’d been together for quite some time, but hadn’t done as much as holding hands. You’d never even felt each other’s skin. 

Often, Kaz felt guilty about it. You both had human needs and desires, and he’d told you time and time again you should just find someone else who could give you what he couldn’t. But you always smiled and told him you’d rather wait a thousand years for him, than leave him for someone else only because they would be able to touch you. 

You’d tell him touch was just one form of a love language. And his love language simply wasn’t touch. You'd tell him about all the times he’d shown you he loved you without touching you. Looking out for you, having your back on jobs, small gifts or even just bringing you coffee in the morning. 

But now that he’s looking at you, Kaz feels yet again guilty. He wants to give you everything you want, he wants to touch you, but he just couldn't. Every time he’d touched someone’s skin, it had almost catastrophic results for him.

His eyes focus on your hand as he thinks of you. He wants to touch you, to feel your skin. 

After standing there for what feels like an eternity, Kaz slowly inches closer to you and reaches out a hand towards yours. He takes a few deep breaths in, trying to calm himself and pushing the memories away. 

He lets his index finger hover above your hand. And then he slowly lowers his finger, until his finger tip touches the palm of your hand. Kaz takes a deep breath and softly traces his finger across the palm of your hand. 

While still sleeping, you unknowingly curls your pinky around his finger. 

Kaz slowly pulls away, but with a smile on his face. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t have a panic attack, he didn't faint, he didn’t completely lose it. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. 

Feeling somewhat relieved, Kaz enters his room to go to sleep as well.

When you wake up the next morning, the first thing you notice is Kaz’ coat. It smells like him, and it makes you smile to yourself. You know this is something he’d never admit to doing if he was around others. He only ever let his guard down around you. 

You get up, wrapping his coat around you as you tiptoe over to the door to his room. You carefully open it, trying to make as little noise as possible. Kaz is till fast asleep, sprawled out on his stomach. You resist the urge of snuggling up next to him and close the door again.

After putting on your boots and leaving Kaz’ coat behind, you head downstairs to get a pot of coffee and two mugs. Luckily it’s not that busy this early in the morning, and no one notices your messy hair or the fact you’re still in last night clothes. If anyone would see you, you just knew they would tease you about it for the rest of the week.

You head back up the stairs, holding the coffee in one hand and the two mugs in the other. You can hear stumbling in some of the rooms you pass on your way up as the residents of the Slat starts to wake up. 

Upon arriving at Kaz’ floor, you push the door open with your shoulder. While you were downstairs, Kaz had woken up. He’s standing next to his desk and putting on his gloves.

‘Morning.’ you say as you walk over to the desk and set the coffee and the mugs down. ‘I was early, so it’s still fresh.’

You sit down in the chair in front of his desk and pour the coffee in the mugs. Kaz sits down behind his desk as you hand him his coffee. You take a sip of the warm drink and close your eyes.

‘You always do that.’ Kaz points out. You open your eyes to look at him. ‘I always do what?’ you say. ‘Closing your eyes when you take that first sip of coffee in the morning.’ he says. ‘Well, what can I say, everyone needs their coffee in the morning, so why not enjoy it?’ you say.

Kaz takes a sip of his coffee and pulls one of the maps he had been studying toward him. At the sight of his gloved fingers, you suddenly remember last night.

‘I dreamt about you last night.’ you say. ‘Hmm did you?’ mumbles Kaz as he looks at the map.

‘Yea.’ you say. ‘I dreamt you touched my hand, without gloves.’

Kaz looks up at you but you’re focused on your hands. You’re tracing one of you fingers over the palm of your hand.

‘You traced your finger over my hand, like that.’ you say, repeating the motion. ‘It felt so real, for a moment after I woke up, I thought it wasn't a dream. But that’s a stupid thing to think.’

‘It’s not stupid.’ says Kaz. ‘Because it wasn’t a dream.’

You finally look up at him. He looks at you in that same calm way he always looks at you. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’d just said.

‘It wasn’t a dream?’ you say, repeating his words. ‘But why- how?’

Kaz shrugs. ‘You seemed so peaceful last night. I couldn’t resist.’ he says. 

You start to grin after hearing his words, making him raise his eyebrows in question at you.

‘Kaz Brekker, you couldn’t resist touching someone’s skin?’ you say. ‘You never touch someone’s skin, not even mine, and now you’re telling me last night you couldn’t resist it?’

Kaz takes another sip of his coffee, as you’re waiting for his answer. 

‘I can’t help but to let down my walls around you.’ says Kaz. ‘You’re the only one who has ever seen my hands.' 

‘I’m going to count that as a love confession.’ you say and Kaz shakes his head but chuckles as well. 

‘I’m proud of you, Kaz.’ you say after a while. ‘That must have been everything but easy for you.’

‘It certainly wasn’t easy.’ admits Kaz. ‘But I’m willing to try and see how far I can go. For you.’ 

You smile and take a sip of your coffee. The two of you finish your coffee in silence, enjoying each other’s company before the daily chaos of the Slat starts.  You’re looking out the window, your chin resting on your hand.

‘Y/N?’ says Kaz, getting your attention, and you turn to face him. Your eyes follow his line of sight and you notice he’s taken his gloves off.

‘Kaz.’ you say, gentle but firm. ‘You do not have to do anything you don’t want to or aren’t comfortable with.’ 

‘I know.’ says Kaz, still looking at his hands. ‘But I trust you.’

You watch his hands as one of them slowly inches closer to your hand on the table. Neither of you is saying anything, the both of you just silently watching your hands. 

And then you feel Kaz’ fingers brush over yours. It’s only a few seconds, and then he pulls away again, immediately pulling his gloves back on. You smile as you look at your fingers, trying to hold the moment of the feeling of his fingers against yours.

‘It’s not much but-’ ‘It’s enough for me.’ you say, interrupting him.

Kaz looks at you and you smile at him. ‘You are enough for me.’ you say. ‘This is all I ever want, Kaz, you’re all I want.’

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [5/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: I am so glad people are enjoying this so far! I am having a great time writing it, and I am excited about the chapters that are yet to come. I’d love if you let me know what you think of this new chapter, but no pressure, enjoy!!

The next morning, as all the other transfers ran laps, you made your way to the infirmary for physical therapy. When you got there, the doctor who had stitched you up the day before waved at you in greeting. “Hello, Y/N, how is the leg doing?”

“Better than yesterday,” you replied with a small smile. 

“Glad to hear it,” she replied. “You’ll be working with Andre today, he’s one of our physical therapists,” she said and pointed to Andre, who was standing a few feet away and waved. 

“Alright, thanks,” you said and started walking towards Andre. “Nice to meet you,” you said and stuck out your hand.

“Likewise,” Andre said and shook your outstretched hand. “So the program I have designed for you focuses more on keeping your leg muscles engaged without running the risk of tearing your stitches open more than recovery because the injury is serious but ultimately, it is just a deep laceration.” You nodded in understanding, and he led you over to a stationary bike. “For the next half hour, you are going to ride this bike. I want you to work your leg muscles and cardio system, but do not put more strain on your legs than necessary, the last thing I want is to tear those stitches or for your leg to start bleeding. Here is a set of headphones that hook up to the bike’s electronic system; I know riding a stationary bike for half an hour can get boring, so feel free to listen to music while you work. I’ll come get you in half an hour, but you can call me over at any point.”

“Sounds good, thanks,” you said before getting on the bike and connecting the headphones to browse the music selection for a little while before settling on an upbeat song with a strong bass beat. Then you got to pedaling. 

--

You were sweating--not as much as you did during regular training, but you were still getting a good workout in--when the thirty minutes ended. Andre walked over to you and helped you get off the bike, and it took you a second to adjust to the solid ground beneath your feet. “Good job,” Andre said. “It really seemed like you were pushing yourself while still respecting the boundaries set by the injury. That’s smart, if you keep this up, you’ll probably heal quickly. Most dauntless go all out and reinjure themselves, so it takes even longer to heal. But I see you have some brains, a good quality for future dauntless.”

“Thanks,” you beamed at him.

“Y/N,” someone said, waving you over from the entrance of the infirmary. You turned to see Four standing there, and you furrowed your brow; you were supposed to be at physical therapy for another half hour before going back to the training room. 

“What’s going on?” you asked as you walked over to him, Andre right behind you.

“Eric changed the plan, we are working with crossbows today instead of fighting, and since you can participate in this, I came to get you while he explains what's going on to the other initiates,” he explained. “Although, perhaps leaving them alone with him wasn’t the best idea,” he said, half-joking, earning a smile from you. 

“Alright, let’s go then. I’ll see you next time, Andre,” you said to the physical therapist as Four walked with you back to the training room. “So… what’s up,” you said to fill the awkward silence that settled between you and Four as you two walked. He looked at you, amused. 

“Oh, you know. Training initiates.” You laughed at his bluntness. 

“Right,” you chuckled. “So, why did Eric change the plan?” you asked cautiously.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Four shrugged. “Though I suspect it has to do with the fact that he’s particularly… grumpy today, and he probably wants to shoot arrows at someone.”

“Well, that does sound like a very real possibility,” you agreed, and the two of you reached the training room to see Eric walking up and down the line of initiates holding crossbows and aiming at targets, aggressively yanking them into the correct positions, yelling all the while.

“Finally,” he snapped as you picked up a bow and walked to the end of the line, lining yourself up with the target. You closed your eyes to prevent yourself from rolling them at his comment while he continued roughly moving arms and legs of different initiates, sometimes making them wince in shock, surprise at the force, pain, or all three. When he got to Tris, who was right next to you, he looked her up and down, moved her arms, and said “Back straight, initiate! With that posture, you’ll shoot yourself in the foot, assuming you even get the arrow out of the crossbow!” He waited for a second for her to move, but he quickly became frustrated and yelled to Four, “Four, you deal with this one, I’m going to catch Y/N up, since she has finally graced us with her presence,” he said sarcastically. Tris made eye contact with you, and you knew she was wishing you luck, making you smile a bit. 

“Alright,” Eric said, turning to you. Turn sideways, aim down the line, legs shoulder distance apart. Don’t lock the knees, but stand straight. Non-dominant arm straight, other arm pulls the string back once the arrow is notched, pulling with the middle three fingers. Pull the string all the way back to your ear, look down the line, and shoot. Go,” he said, stepping back and watching with crossed arms. You took the stance Eric had described as well as possible, and Eric’s hands landed on your hips, turning them just the slightest bit. Then, as quickly as they had landed there, they were gone. “Same thing as with the punch, initiate. The angle of your hips matters; it’s where your legs and torso connect, so there’s a lot of power there. You can use your core to help your arm pull the string back further, allowing you to aim better and send a more forceful arrow.” You nodded, notching an arrow, pulling back, and looking down the arrow towards the target. Without hesitation, you released, and the arrow landed mere millimeters from the bull’s eye. “Good,” Eric nodded, walking away. 

As you reached for the next arrow, Tris said, “What the hell just happened?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“Eric. He made us run fifty laps, then he changed up the plan and told us all to take an archery stance. Then, he walked up and down the line, pushing and pulling people into the right positions--I think he almost sprained Al’s shoulder! And then, just now, he just… what, turned your hips? No yanking or bending at unnatural angles or anything!”

“It’s probably just because I got injured yesterday and he doesn’t want to reopen the wound,” you shrugged. 

“Maybe,” Tris said with a sigh. “But still, that was… weird.”

“As opposed to the way Four helped you?” you countered, and she blushed. If she thought you hadn’t noticed the way Four had helped her by taking a softer approach than Eric, she was in for a surprise.

“It’s better to try and get into a position you have a hard time with when you exhale,” she defended, knowing you’d heard Four’s suggestion of a quick breathing exercise. 

“I know,” you smirked. 

“Ugh, let’s just get back to shooting,” she said, and you laughed.

“You two, shut up and get shooting,” Eric’s voice called out, quieting your laughter and causing both Tris and yourself to fall silent. You both made eye contact though, took aim, and released your arrows at the same time, each sending a swift arrow into the center of your respective targets, pride for both yourself and your friend rising inside of you.

“Ten more minutes,” Four called out. “After that, you will retrieve your arrows, put your equipment away, and get to lunch. So give it your all!” 

You took a deep breath, and each arrow you shot for the next ten minutes was aimed with extreme precision, resulting in a pretty crowded center of the target when Four called for everyone to stop. It also made the job of retrieving arrows easier since they were all in one area, which you were grateful for as you pulled each one out of the target. 

As you and Tris walked over to the storage cabinets to put your bow and arrows away, Will and Christina jogged over to you guys, having already put their stuff away. “How was physical therapy this morning, Y/N,” Will asked as he came to a stop. 

“It was good,” you replied, “I just rode a stationary bike so I could get a cardio workout and engage my leg muscles as well as my core in a more controlled setting.”

“That makes sense,” he nodded in approval. “I’m glad it went well. The rest of us had to run around here fifty times!”

“So I heard,” you said, still surprised at the number of laps your friends had run that morning. “And this one here,” he put an arm around Christina’s shoulders, “was one of the first people to finish!”

“Congratulations!” you said with a smile to Christina. She had set a goal for herself to improve her cardio, and it would seem she had reached it. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, blushing slightly at the contact with Will. “So, wanna get out of here and grab some lunch?”

“That sounds great to me,” you nodded, ready to go. 

“Y/N,” Eric said loudly from across the room as he strode towards you and your friends. 

“Yes?”

“Before you go, I want to take a look at your leg; there’s a first-aid kit in here and I want to see if it needs cleaning seeing as you sweat earlier. The last thing I need to deal with is an infection.”

“Alright,” you said and walked over to the bench, your friends following you. You rolled up the leg of your sweatpants, and thankfully, the wound didn’t look too irritated. 

Nodding, Eric said, “It looks good, but make sure to clean it well later. Use soap and water, and halfway through the day or between workouts, I would recommend disinfecting it.”

“Is there anything I can use now? Just to be safe?” He nodded and grabbed the first aid kit from a shelf on the wall, opened it up, and grabbed a hydrogen peroxide wipe. 

“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “There is also some cream here which you’ll be glad to have once you feel the sting of that wipe,” he said, handing you some ointment. 

“Thanks,” you said as you ripped open the hydrogen peroxide wipe and cleaned the wound. 

You hissed as it stung, and Eric sounded further when he said, “Told you,” since he was putting the kit back. You grunted in acknowledgement, and after wiping the area down, you put some of the ointment on, which was a much nicer way of keeping the area clean. Then, you rolled down your pant leg, stood, and made to toss the ointment back to Eric, but before you could, he said “Keep it.”

“Thanks,” you said, surprised as you pocketed it. Eric simply nodded. 

“Now get out of here,” he said, “go eat lunch.” And with that, you were swept out of the training room by your friends. 

--

“So, we missed you at dinner last night,” Christina said as you and your friends sat down at a table in the dining hall. “Although I totally get that you had other things to worry about. You did get to eat though, right? We wanted to save you some food, but it was pasta night, and everyone had to fight just to get their fair share.”

“That’s sweet of you guys,” you said. “Four tried to do the same thing, but he was too late. “Luckily, Eric had a backup plan.” 

“Oh my god, did you eat dinner with Eric?” Tris whisper-yelled, making eye contact with Christina, whose jaw was hanging open. 

“Yeah, last night was a lot. I waited in his apartment while he got me some sweatpants, which are really comfy, and then he got back and made ‘low-carb enchiladas’ for dinner.”

“Of course they’d be low-carb, Will said, rolling his eyes.”

“Were they good?” Christina asked.

“They were so good,” you nodded. 

“How was the company?” Tris asked.

“Honestly it was fine. I think that the fact that we didn’t talk because we were both tired prevented an argument from breaking out.”

“That’s good,” Christina said. “I’m glad he wasn’t completely horrible to you after you’d just gotten hurt. Although, I have to ask, why wasn’t he completely horrible to you today? I didn’t think he’d have that long of a ‘grace period’ after injuries.”

“He probably didn’t want to reopen the wound,” you said, repeating what you’d said to Tris earlier. “Why are you guys so interested in him?”

“Because he is the scariest person here, and he just gave you some ointment for your leg, which is the exact opposite of what it seems like he would do!” Will said. 

“You do have a point,” you admitted. “Look, I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. Besides, we still have to talk about the way Four keeps eyeing Tris,” you said, smirking evilly as you turned the attention away from yourself, launching a new line of questioning, this time aimed at your friend.

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny​, @parabatai-winchester​, @marvel-ousnesss​, @kid-from-new-zealand​, @polychr0matic​

[wanderinginksplot]

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor