#although it did have very nice seating. I think I could go here instead of louisa coffee sometime | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farfromharry · 2 years

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Beth [ 12 ] | Dad!Eddie Munson series

Twelve, Sunshine's diner

Word count - 4030

Warnings - language

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February 1994

Although when Eddie Munson loved, he loved hard, he wasn’t necessarily a romantic. He didn’t routinely make grand gestures to show his love, or buy you expensive gifts and such throughout the year. Instead he poured his love into simple everyday actions; like making you a drink in the morning, placing a blanket over you when you fell asleep on the couch or never letting his touch be too far away from you. But this year, this Valentine’s, he wanted to change that.

He told you to dress up nice, but refused to tell you what his plans for the evening were. It made you a little nervous, but you trusted he was doing something he knew you would love. If anyone in the entire world knew you better than anyone, it was Eddie.

Even when you pulled up outside the familiar diner you still couldn’t figure out what was going on. Your mind was leaning towards a romantic date, but of course you didn’t have any idea about the ulterior motive he had. He was positive you would love it though. If you didn’t he was going to be in a very awkward position.

“Why is this place so empty?” you asked, noting that the lights were off and no customers could be seen anywhere. Eddie had been the one to get you both the day off from work to celebrate Valentine’s day together, but you didn’t think it was because the diner was closed, no one had told you that. Usually this was one of the busiest days of the year for you guys, there was no reason it should be empty.

He flashed you a sweet smile, leading the way before pushing open the door for you. “I may have pulled some strings,” he admitted, cheeks flushing. He knew you would have asked, but that didn’t make it any less flustering to admit. He set a light hand on the small of your back, placing a kiss to your cheek sweetly. “After you, m’lady.”

Upon entering the building, it was eerily silent. It was odd, you were so used to the place being overrun and loud with the voices of customers. It was nice to see the place in a different sort of light. “So, are you gonna tell me what we’re doing here?” you quizzed.

“Patience,” he muttered, guiding you to one of the tables. He did the gentlemanly thing of pulling your chair out for you, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as you sat down. Only then did you notice the decorations on the table, the flowers, unlit candles, etc.

He’d barely taken his own seat when Lucas and Dustin approached the table, one lighting the candles and the other pouring the two of you drinks. You couldn’t help but grin at them, thanking them politely as they rushed off. Tulip was next to come over, two plates in hand for the two of you. She saw the slight flash of fear in Eddie’s eyes, probably because he knew she was an even worse cook than him. “Don’t worry, I didn’t cook it. Steve did the honors,” she said.

“Thank god,” Eddie muttered under his breath, earning himself a harsh slap on his shoulder that had you biting back your laughter. He grimaced, waving her away. It was like there was a silent command that had all of the little helpers exiting at once, leaving you and your lover to enjoy your meal in peace. Starting first and foremost with the gift you had gotten for him. His food could wait just a few seconds.

The leather bound book was passed over to him with a smile and a little bit of shyness. “It’s not expensive or fancy or anything. But I made it for you.”

That simple sentence made his heart burst with joy. You had taken the time out of your day to make something especially for him. To him that held more meaning and love than any expensive gift ever could. His fingers traced the words written in fancy lettering on the front, our adventure book, a faint smile ghosting on his face. Having you sit there opposite him made him feel like he had to hold back his emotions. But, truly, flicking through the book page by page, seeing all the baby pictures of Beth and the three of you as a little family, it had him choking up.

“D’you like it?” you asked. He could tell from the tone of your voice that you were nervous he wouldn’t. It was obvious you had put a lot of work into it, especially fishing out of some of the pictures in there. He was amazed to come across some of him and Wayne when he was much younger. The thought of you and his uncle sitting down to do this together just made him love it all the more.

He didn’t answer your question verbally, but rather leaned over the table, forcing you to pause in eating so he could place an overdramatic kiss to your lips. You chuckled. “So you like it?” The kiss was supposed to be your answer, but you just wanted to clarify. “I love it.”

After that it was time for your gift. You had no idea how hard he had been working to make sure this surprise was ready and perfect for you. “My gift, uh, it might look like a lot–” Those words didn’t fill you with a lot of confidence that he hadn’t gone and spent more money than he responsibly could. But you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt before you jumped to judging him. “But, I promise I got a sweet deal.”

You were still weary. “So, you know how Maurice has been looking for someone to be the new owner?” he began, fiddling with the ring that lay on your left ring finger. You hummed, frowning a little when he pulled away from your touch, stepping a few steps back. “This,” he motioned to the space around. “Is all yours.”

Your brows drew together, eyes narrowing in his direction as you tried to decipher if he was being deadly serious or not. “What?” you asked, laughing to yourself. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope. It wasn’t hard to convince him, he thinks you’re great.” So did he. He was telling nothing but the truth. Not a lot of things had been easy in Eddie Munson’s life, but convincing the man who had been your employer for the last ten or so years that you were the perfect person to run the place he loved so much, was a piece of cake; simplest thing he had ever done. “Plus, who better to run this place than you? You pretty much already run it.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

There was a beat of silence where you were unsure if you’d get emotional, just where the two of you gazed at each other with the utmost love held in your eyes. He broke the quiet, pulling something seemingly out of nowhere to present to you. At first you thought it might have been another gift, and you were prepared to tell him it was much too much, but then he began to explain. “I did a couple sketches. Just of what I thought we could make the place look like. A new name and stuff,” he said, sliding the pieces of paper over to you. You took one look at them and fell completely in love, impressed by not only his skill but the dedication he had put into this whole surprise.

“You drew these?” you asked, gawking at the quickly scribbled drawings on the papers in front of you. Only a few times in your relationship had you seen the tiny doodles he drew on notebooks or his arms when he got bored during a shift, but you hadn’t been aware he had such an artistic ability. “These are incredible, Eds.”

“So, what d’you think? ‘Sunshine’s diner’.” He was yet to get a final answer from you, one that confirmed you were overjoyed with the risky move he made.

Rather than a verbal response, he was rewarded with a choked sob as your emotions began to finally spill out. “Well now my gift looks shitty compared to yours,” you said, dabbing at the tears beginning to leak from your eyes. If you had been looking, you would have noticed the way your fiance rolled his eyes at that comment. In his eyes, though he loved the diner, he would have taken the scrapbook you made for him over the business any day of the week. In fact, he would have taken anything you made for him like it was pure gold.

He reached over to grab your hand, linking his fingers with yours and squeezing. “For what it’s worth, sunshine. I love it and I’m gonna cherish it.”

You grinned. “I couldn’t be more thankful for mine,” you told him.

A weight felt like it had been lifted from his chest at those words, finally getting the relief that he hadn’t gone much too far like some would believe. He raised his wine glass up in the air slightly, motioning for you to do the same. “I’d say this Valentine’s was a success.”

You clinked your glasses together. “I’d have to agree, Munson.”

The grand opening of the new diner came in the upcoming weeks. You’d had to close to make the renovations, much to a few regulars dismay when they couldn’t dine, and by a few you meant Hopper. He hadn’t been happy that he had to alter his routine for a few weeks, eating breakfast at home before he went to work rather than at the diner he had for years.

Of course, Eddie made the whole thing much bigger than necessary. He demanded there be some sort of ribbon cutting for your big day, although you thought that was much too dramatic. The only people attending would surely be your friends, maybe some other regulars from various parts of Hawkins, but it wasn’t a big deal; not to you. Your fiance was just so proud of you that he wanted to make it as big as possible, give you the opening day you deserved.

Ever the gentleman and amazing friend, he had basically forced your friends into assisting the two of you with the alterations that needed to be done. Of course he gave Steve the hardest job, putting up the new diner sign on the side of the building. He hated him for it, Harrington would strangle Eddie given the chance for dishing him that task. And he probably would have, had he not hidden behind Tulip out of fear.

Eddie himself had taken what he dubbed one of the easier tasks, the electrical work. In your eyes, and many others, it certainly wasn’t an easy job, but apparently knowing how to hotwire a car and rewire electricity for a building was basically the same thing. You didn’t even want to bother asking how he knew how to hotwire a car.

The rest of you took the really easy tasks, like painting the inside walls of the diner. You had settled on a soft yellow, one that could almost be mistaken for cream at first glance. Beth was helping you on one wall, while Tulip had taken to the one by the windows, mainly so she could gawk at her husband through the glass. It was an amusing sight for you to see, but you tried to leave her to it to focus on your own task instead. It wasn’t that difficult when you considered the fact that Beth was a brilliant distraction.

You were at it for numerous days, fixing up everything that needed to be tended to. Once the yellow was down, the final details on the freshly painted walls were some cute little flowers you wanted to add. They were of various kinds, scattered across the place in no particular pattern. The eight year old beside her was a great helping hand too.

“Mom, look,” she called, pointing to the slightly wonky painted flower. You grinned at the sight, it wasn’t perfect by any means from an art standpoint, but it was hers and because of that you were obsessed with it. As you admired it, you tugged her into a hug, not failing to see the smudge of color that had appeared on her cheek. “How did you get paint on your face? So clumsy, sweetheart.”

Your fiance entered the room at just the right time to see you and Beth giggling as she dropped paint on the tip of your nose. He beamed at the sight, interrupting momentarily to plant a quick kiss to both of your cheeks. “Woah, Beth. Did you do that?” he asked, pointing to her flower. She nodded proudly, smiling brightly up at her dad. “That’s better than anything Tulips ever painted.”

He could hear her faintly cursing him out under her breath, not loud enough for his daughter to hear he hoped. However it probably wouldn’t have been the worst language she’d ever heard considering the youths she grew up around. The younger kids notably had no filter on their use of bad words. “You’re so not funny, Eddie.” Her lack of artistic ability had been a sore spot for her since she was a kid.

The conversation between the three of you was cut short when your attention was drawn to Steve taking a break outside. He had very dramatically climbed down the ladder he was on, huffing and puffing from all the energy he was using.

Putting up the sign definitely shouldn’t have been a one man job, but Eddie really didn’t care. He found it amusing to watch his best friend’s husband struggle the way he did, especially with how the man constantly walked around with such a cocky demeanor. If Steve presented himself to everyone as able to do anything that was thrown his way, surely he should be able to hang a measly sign.

The metalhead wasn’t the only one who enjoyed watching Harrington do his job though. Tulip was a complete sucker for husband at the moment. There was something about how manly Steve looked while working that she was drawn to. More than once you had caught her drooling at the sight of him, a piece of information you know he’d be happy to hear. She wasn’t always open about her affection or attraction to the man she loved, so when he did hear about it from time to time it was a good ego boost. “You’re drooling again, Tulip,” he teased.

“Fuck off, Munson.” He covered his daughter’s ears with a loud gasp, shaking his head like he was eternally disappointed in his friend for her behavior. As subtle as possible she raised her hand to her mouth, trying to see if Eddie had any truth behind his words.

You watched the pair with a light heart. They were always fun to watch interact, the two were so playful with each other that it made for good viewing for others. It wasn’t like the sentiment from Steve wasn’t reciprocated, there had been more than one moment throughout the day where the brunette had found himself staring at his wife with just as much adoration in his eyes. She could be doing something as mundane as refilling the paint in her tray and he was drooling just as bad as her.

When all the physical decorating was done, the last thing you had to do was settle on a menu. Most of the things were staying exactly the same, some were getting new names, and some were completely new. It shouldn’t have been a huge deal or a taxing job, but you wanted to give sweet odes to the people you loved through it— so the pressure was on.

For your loves it was easy to decide what they would be, it was only right to designate them your favorite items on the menu– a tropical smoothie and a chocolate sundae. Beth was over the moon with hers, practically demanding she was provided with one on the spot to do a ‘taste test’ as she so amusingly called it. Eddie, though he appreciated the sentiment, knew you gave him such a flavor because of his hatred for all things tropical, but he cherished anything you did for him for the right reasons.

It was decided that you would reveal the menu to those included before the opening. It felt as though it should be something you kept between the intimate group of you. It was more meaningful that way.

Wayne and Hopper were happy to find out their regular orders had officially become theirs. The simple breakfast and carrot cake. Tulip gave a similar reaction when she found out about what would become the infamous ‘death burger’, an inside joke Eddie insisted had to be on there. He wouldn’t let you in on it though, which you pouted about. That didn’t do anything to change his mind though, you just had to move on.

Steve was the only one with a negative reaction to his news. Eddie had been the one to tell him, mistake number one. Your second mistake was listening to your lover's suggestion in the first place so it seemed. He had been the one to tell you Steve loved grilled cheese, and he did so with a smirk on his face that should have told you he was lying, but you had blindly believed him. In your defense, he did technically know Harrington better than you did.

Upon seeing the menu for the first time, he whined and complained. “Grilled cheese, really?” he questioned, blankly. “Of all possible foods you could have picked.”

Eddie was already giggling, hiding his mouth behind his hand as though that blocked the sight of his laughter. Though Tulip should have been sympathetic to her husband’s hatred for the food, she couldn’t help but find it a little entertaining too. There was a very vague memory in the back of her mind of her telling her best friend about her husband's dislike of the food, but she never thought he would use that against him. Not like this anyway.

You were apologetic, blamed basically all of it on the metalhead, and then proceeded to lift his mood with the dedications to his daughters. Blueberry and Raspberry muffins for little Halley and Lyra, twinning for the twins. The parents thought it was adorable, which is exactly what you were aiming for, so you’d say you were successful.

Besides those, there were only a couple others to note, like Lucas, Max and Dustin, all of whom were happy with what they had been dished. The redhead especially considering cheesecake was one of her favorites.

After everything was finally settled and done, your fiance took to organizing the big grand opening. You’d tried to tell him all of it was unnecessary, that you were happy to just open the diner as normal and you’d be okay with that. But he insisted, and once he recruited Dustin’s help things grew a lot easier. You had no idea how the two idiots had found giant scissors, or if they should really have something that sharp in their possessions, but you felt it was better to not question it.

When they handed them to you for the first time, you were rightfully confused. There was no way you could have said no though, the looks on their faces, their bright and excited eyes, were way too hard to say no to. Instead, all you could do was turn to the child by your side and hope she would do you the favor. “Why don’t you do the honors, sweetheart?” you suggested, handing the novelty sized scissors to the little girl. She was bouncing at the idea of doing such an important job, even when her dad had to assist her in helping keep up the heavy item long enough to cut the ribbon. She was overjoyed when the light blue piece of fabric broke, earning her a few sporadic cheers.

As your friends and family made their way inside, Eddie stayed back with you. He’d notice you lingering towards the end of the crowd, where your grin was bright and your eyes were basically sparkling as they raked over the outside of the building. “Hey. Everything okay?” he asked, throwing his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to lean into his chest.

“Everything’s great— Perfect, actually,” you gushed. If it wasn’t for him, none of this would have been possible. There was no way you’d be able to thank him as much as you believed that you should.

He didn’t care if you never found a way to pay him back, he didn’t want you to. For him, this was about seeing you be happy, live out a dream you had confided in him, he wasn’t expecting anything in return. And no one he knew was more deserving of something like this than you were. If little five year old you saw you now, all the way from Forest Hills trailer park, she wouldn’t believe it. “So proud of you,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple to emphasise his praise.

Those words couldn’t have been more true, and continued to bounce around in his head all day as he watched you. You were so clearly in your element as you moved around the tables, talking with customers and taking orders. He probably should have been helping, he often liked to forget that he worked here, but he was so painfully mesmerized by you. He wasn’t the only one that was feeling delighted for you. Pretty much all of your friends were.

Steve and Tulip were sitting together in one of the many booths, observing the hustle and bustle of the newly opened diner from a more isolated spot. They shared comments about how great the place looked, and obviously the woman complimented her husband on the job he’d done with the sign, though he had been the one to nudge her to do it. “The name looks pretty good outside, don’t you think?”

“I’ve seen better,” she teased. He scoffed, attempting to pull his arm away from her as he feigned hurt in his chest. She chuckled, tugging on his hand so he couldn’t move it, going back on her words to save the moment. “‘M kidding, it looks great. So did the man putting it up.” She didn’t need to look at him to know his cheeks were flushed.

The two fell back into a comfortable silence after that, allowing them to take in the atmosphere around them. They didn’t often get to do things like this when their own kids were around, so any moments of quiet were cherished by them.

Just behind the counter Tulip noticed the picture of the three of you, you, Beth and Eddie all grinning at the camera in front of the diner while it was still under renovation. She didn’t even have to ask to know that that was her best friend’s doing, at any given opportunity he was showing off his little family to anyone that would listen. She already pitied the poor people who were going to ask and deeply regret their decision once Eddie refused to shut up about his fiance and daughter.

While she was distracted, she didn’t notice the little girl creeping up to them, climbing in the booth beside the couple. They both greeted her with warm smiles, happy to see her after such a crazy day. She always brought joy to those she was around. “You had fun today, B?” Steve asked, brushing his hand over her untamed hair.

“So much fun!” And the two couldn’t disagree. This day may have been centered around you, but you always lived up to your ‘sunshine’ title, making it fun and light for everyone around. They were just glad they got to experience it all with you.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #dad!eddie #dad!eddie munson

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captmickey · 5 months

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I knew you sent something, @dominustempori and it took me a minute to find it, but hey! I found it! And here we go!

---

Lucas wandered around the house, looking for something to do… anything, really. He would have joined his father on the ship, but according to him and uncle Winslow, it would be best if Lucas stayed put for now.

(“Not because I don’t want you with me, kiddo, but because the ship has a lot of broken pieces and I don’t want you to get hurt.” Guybrush explained, kneeling down to be at eye level with him.

“But I can help!” Lucas pouted. “I can help, really!” Guybrush just let out a laugh and ruffled his hair a little. “I know, and you can any other time… just not with this one. I promise to make it up to you later, alright? I won’t be gone for long.”)

He huffed. He could have helped, he knew he could have. He just… didn’t know how, especially with how everything was so tall. But he’s just like his dad, Lucas Threepwood could solve that problem, no doubt.

Instead, he continued to pout and went upstairs, planning on going to his room and think of something to do when he heard humming from his parents’ room.

Curiosity got the best of him as Lucas peeked his head inside, seeing the neatly made bed in the room with the two night stands: one neatly organized with a book or two stacked and the other an absolute mess filled with too many books and parchments. He continued looking around when he spotted his mom sitting in front of a mirror fixing up her hair.

Perking up with finally someone in the room (let alone house), Lucas bee-line to his mother’s side and stood on his toes to catch a glimpse of the table filled with different smelling bottles and ribbons.

A chuckle was heard and a hand on his head.

“Hello to you too.” Elaine greeted him.

“Hello!” Lucas beamed, looking between his mom and the table.

“What are you up to?” She asked, going back to brushing her hair.

“Nothing. I’m bored.” He moved his hands to her lap, plopping a chin on her thigh. “Dad made me bored.”

“Did he now?” Elaine chuckled. “That’s not very nice of him.”

“It’s not. It’s…um…” he contemplated, trying to think of the rude his mom would say before perking up, “rude! It’s very rude.”

“I would imagine so.”

Lucas continued watching her brush her hair, noticing how she was parting her hair into three strands and began criss-crossing it over one another. His eyes widened as he stared.

Elaine, noting the expression, smirked. “Something the matter, Lucas?”

“What are you doing?” He asked, point-blank.

“Hm? Oh, I’m braiding my hair.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I just feel like it, nice to have it out of the way before we run some–”

“I want that!”

Elaine stopped and looked at Lucas who appeared to have stars in his eyes as he stood up straighter, a small hop in place was noticeable as well.

“You want a braid?” She asked, just out of clarification considering his hair was not nearly long enough for there to be a braid but she was not about to spoil the small child’s mood with that tidbit.

Lucas, however, as an answer, hopped more in place.

“Alright, let’s make you a braid.” Elaine moved from her seat and picked up her son to sit in it in her place. She of course noticed as she was reaching for the brush, kicking his feet, his telltale sign of excitement. “Hold still for a moment, alright?”

“Okay!” He smiled, looking as much as he could at his reflection, or at least, half his head.

Slowing his feet kicking to as much of a minimum as he could, Lucas felt his mother’s hands on his head followed by the gentle stroke of the hair brush. Slowly, he closed his eyes, feeling safe and comforted as she went to work grabbing some strands of his hair. He knew he did not have hair nearly as long as his parents, but whenever he saw them putting their hair up, he wanted to join in.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you braid dad’s hair?” Lucas asked, opening his eyes and looking at his mother’s reflection.

“Sometimes.” Elaine answered. “Although your father likes to put it in a ponytail and call it a day.”

“Oh. Does he braid your hair?” He then asked.

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Does he do a good job? You do a good job with your hair.” Lucas smiled when he warranted a laugh out of her.

“He tries, darling. And that’s what matters.” Elaine decided to do two more braids, feeling the child would want to show off his new do.

“I want long hair.” He decided. “Like you and dad.”

“Yeah? And what will you do with all that hair?” She asked, trying to not discourage him.

“Hmm…” Lucas kicked his feet in thought. “I’d… I’d braid it. Have dad’s ponytail. Oh! Maybe beads?”

“Beads?” Elaine sounded surprised.

“Mm-hmm!”

“Well, that sounds rather exciting. And with that…” she tied the ribbon to hold the last of the small braids in his hair, “we’re done.”

Lifting Lucas up so he could see himself better in the mirror. It was three very small braids that were on one side of his head, each a different color ribbon. Lucas looked at himself closer, leaning in as much as he could and shaking his head, watching the braids bounce a little and smiled that famous Threepwood grin as he turned to look at her.

“I love it!” He grinned, his feet kicking a little. “Thank you!”

“You look absolutely wonderful.” Elaine smiled in return, giving him a small kiss on the cheek which got a belly giggle from Lucas. “Want to show your father your new look?”

“Yeah!”

#monkey island #mickey writes #rtmi spoilers #the ship that literally sails itself #I'll have you know that I genuinely thought I was losing my mind when I searched for this ask #and I was worried I accidentally deleted it #like I knew it was sent but I could not find it in my inbox but hey! some search later and bam!

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iamvegorott · 8 days

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Fluff, huh?

How’s about Mare patching up Mad after an experiment goes wrong? With kisses after every bandage is applied?

“Marvin’s on his way,” Mare said as he sat down next to Mad.

“I am not that hurt.” Mad protested with a huff. He and Mare both sat in chairs against a wall in his lab, as far away from the mess as possible. Broken glass and remnants from hosed-down flames were still strewn about and needed to be cleaned up.

“Maybe not, but we both know how much you hate the feeling of burns.” Mare took a rag and gently cleaned off Mad’s arm, wiping away the blood and soot. “So, tell me how in the world this happened?” He said as he reached into the kit on the ground beside him and started rubbing anti-bacterial cream on the wounds. Was it more than likely that Marvin would heal and close these cuts? Yes. But was Mare still going to do all he could to ensure there was no infection? Also, yes.

“I was testing a new experiment with smoke and apparently the chemicals and wood I was using didn’t agree with each other.” Mad sounded annoyed at himself, knowing he should have done more research into the ingredient’s compatibility before just going for it, but he’s been so impatient lately.

“And this is why I’ve told you to start taking your time with these experiments.” Mare took some bandages and began patching the arm up.

“But you don’t like it when I stay down here for too long.” Mad protested. “You say it's not good for me when I ‘forget sleep exists’.” He used his other hand to make the quotes and grimaced at the slight pain that caused.

Maybe Mare did have a point.

“It is not good for you,” Mare confirmed and pressed a kiss to Mad’s arm over the bandage, getting whatever protest Mad was going to make die off as he blushed instead. “And it’s much better when you’re in bed with me as long as possible~” Mare winked as he kissed another bandaged spot, further up Mad’s arm.

“I mean-it is-it is nice-and-um-” Mad sputtered out as his cheeks turned an even darker shade of red.

“You’re adorable.” Mare guided Mad to turn in his seat to face him while he was too busy sputtering even more in protest at the comment. “Very adorable.” Mare grinned as he started working on cleaning Mad’s other arm.

“I am not. I’ve smashed in people’s heads before.” Mad was trying really hard to stop blushing but every time Mare spoke positively about him, his whole body got warm.

“And you look adorable while doing it.” Mare was now spreading more of the anti-bacterial cream.

“You’re just saying that to make me blush,” Mad muttered.

“I’m just telling the truth, but the blush is a bonus. Your freckles stand out even more and make you look stunning.” Mare laughed when Mad just made noises, not even able to come up with words in response. The flirting was a perfect distraction while he took care of him and was now wrapping the arm up in bandages. “Although, you always look stunning~” Mare nearly sang and kissed up Mad’s arm, pressing his lips to each applied bandage.

“I’m going to die if you keep that up.” Mad turned his head away, clearly beyond flustered.

“I don’t think you will.” Mare used his hand to cup Mad’s cheek and have him look at him again. “I’d miss you too much and you’d miss me~”

“I would,” Mad mumbled, eyes glancing down to Mare’s lips.

“I know.” Mare chuckled and gave Mad what he silently asked for, leaning into a kiss. Mad was over any pout he had and melted into the kiss right away.

“You two are just so cute.” Marvin’s sudden voice got Mad to flinch and Mare rolled his eyes.

“It’s called knocking,” Mare said, looking over his shoulder to see Marvin at the entrance to the lab with a teasing smirk.

“It’s called I tried, and you were too busy making out to hear.” Marvin shot back.

“We were not!” Mad protested.

“Sure, sure. Now let me see those limbs and heal them so you can get back to ‘totally not making out’.” Marvin exaggerated his voice.

“We weren’t making out!”

“Yet.”

“Mare!”

----------

@rattyboyisemo

#bookwormscififan #madmare #veggie writes #gotta love a sassy Marvin XD

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purplefangirl42 · 8 months

Text

Clonetober- Day 12

Prompt: “Where are your survival instincts?”/clone culture/bounty hunter AU

Prompt list by @ladysongmaster Divider by djarrex

Tags/Warnings: Drunkenness, Injury, Mentions of a bar fight, Mentions of derogatory/sexist speech

Chip sat in the waiting room of the medcenter, tapping his foot impatiently. He didn’t know why he was here, and it was late. He had been about to go to bed when he received the message from Keebo telling him to meet them at the medcenter. Now, he was here and he saw no sign of anyone he knew.

“Chip?” a voice asked. “What are you doing here so late?”

Chip looked up to see Doctor Niereah Tronjes standing in the doorway. She looked as tired as he felt, and was holding what he assumed was a cup full of caf.

“I was told to meet some miscreants here,” he said. “But they’ve yet to arrive.”

Niereah was about to say something when there was a loud clatter from down the hallway. She turned to look and laughed softly at whatever she saw.

“I believe they just did.”

Chip stood from his seat and joined her at the doorway, following her gaze to see three figures at the end of the hall. Three figures he knew very well.

“Good luck with that,” Niereah said before walking off.

Chip sighed and walked over to the group waiting for him, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“What’s he done now?”

Three heads snapped in his direction. Or rather two of them snapped, the third lazily flopped. Blaze was supporting a stumbling Sparx, although it looked like he was having trouble standing on his feet himself. The two of them had obviously been drinking, which meant that they had been at 79’s.

“Someone decided it was a good idea to start a drunken brawl and got himself knocked on his shebs,” Blaze said, his words only slightly slurring.

Now that he was closer, Chip could see the dark bruise forming around Sparx’s eye and blood streaming from one of his nostrils. There seemed to be a nasty cut on his forehead as well. He could see why they thought he needed medical attention. He just didn’t understand why they needed him.

“Was there no one else that could patch you up?” Chip asked.

“He made a pass at one of the nurses last time,” Keebo explained. “One he had dated before…and had forgotten about. She took it kinda personal and the other nurses took her side. They said he’d be on his own if he got in a fight again.”

Chip rolled his eyes and gestured for them to follow him to an exam room. Leave it to Sparx to anger all of the nurses in the medcenter of the most populated planet in the galaxy. While Blaze ushered Sparx into the room and down into a chair, Chip pulled Keebo aside.

“What are you doing here exactly?” he asked. “I certainly hope you weren’t with them at the bar.”

“I’m their designated driver. Blaze called me when the other guy had knocked Sparx out with a bottle.”

Chip shook his head and started pulling things out of the cabinet to treat his brother’s wounds.

“Was there some particular reason he picked a fight with this guy?” he asked.

“It was another clone, fellow ARC trooper I think. Apparently he’s not a nice guy and was saying some nasty things. From what I heard from the bartender when I went to pick them up, it was the second fight that guy had been in tonight.”

Chip saw a smirk on her face as she told him this detail, which made him raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Why is that amusing?”

“Because apparently the first guy he fought was Crosshair. I saw the guy and he had some nasty bruises on his face that looked like they had already been on his face for a while.”

“What did this guy say that made two troopers try to beat his face in?”

Keebo shrugged but the smirk remained on her lips, as if she was privy to a secret she didn’t want to share. Chip had a feeling he knew what she was thinking, but he didn’t dare ask. Instead, he pointed in Blaze’s direction.

“Why don’t you take him back to the barracks? I’ll take care of this one and get him home.”

Keebo nodded and walked over to Blaze, taking his hand. She waved at Sparx, which he responded to with a wink. That made him wince when he used his bad eye, causing Keebo to roll her eyes at him with a soft laugh. She pulled Blaze from the room, giving Chip a goodbye and a thank you before disappearing.

Chip pulled a cart full of supplies over to where Sparx sat and placed a finger under his brother’s chin to make him look up. The wound on his forehead looked even worse up close and would definitely need some stitches. As Chip got to work preparing what he needed, he could hear Sparx humming a tune to himself.

“Exactly how much have you had to drink?” he asked.

“Enough to have fun, but not enough to block out the sound of your grumpy voice,” Sparx replied.

“Enough to get yourself in trouble you mean. You’re an ARC trooper, what are you doing starting fights in bars? Where are your survival instincts?”

Chip saw the silly expression fade a bit from Sparx’s face and he wondered what it was that had prompted the fight his brother had been involved in. While he knew that Sparx could handle his own, it was unlikely for him to be the one to start the fights.

“What did he say?” he asked. “What could he have said that was horrible enough for you to end up like this?”

“He was saying nasty things about them,” was Sparx’s response.

Chip didn’t need any further explanation than that. He knew enough to realize that his brother had been defending those he cared about, even if it wasn’t really necessary. He sighed and started treating the wound on Sparx’s forehead.

“Both of them?” he asked.

Sparx nodded, which got him a dirty look from Chip as the movement had disturbed his work.

“I guess I can understand, then. Don’t tell Keebo what he said or he will lose what’s left of his dignity.”

Sparx smirked, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

“I don’t think he has much left after tonight.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! Please reblog, like, and comment! If you've read "Plant Yourself in My Heart", this is the same guy that gave Crosshair his bloody nose at the end. It was apparently a busy day for him.

#clonetober2023 #star wars: the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars #original characters #the clone wars #clone troopers #clone trooper oc

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mulberrimouse · 10 months

Text

Night Under The Stars

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Part 2

Word count: 2k

Summary: Senior year, 3 weeks until school it out. You go on a field trip with the senior classes and get paired with Sam Kiszka through the buddy-system rule your teachers use.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Fem Reader

Warnings: Not much yet again! Use of the word "whore" once, shoving someone against a door, general teasing. Pls let me know if there's anything I missed!!

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It had been a little over 2 and a half hours since the bus ride began, you reading and Sam sleeping through most of it next to you. You felt surprised, (and a little pleased although you'd never actually admit that, at least not yet), that Sam stayed with you instead of talking to his friends further ahead on the bus. Sure, he might've gotten in trouble if he did but that never seemed to stop him before. The feeling sat comfortably in the back of your mind as you read your book until your attention was ripped away at the feeling of someone touching you. Your eyes flicked up to find Sam, still asleep, resting his head on the back of his seat like before. However, he had slumped over so now his face was resting on your knee. You knew it couldn't be comfortable but he didn't seem to mind. You debated whether or not you wake him, or at least push him away, but you only had 20 minutes left on the bus ride so you decided to not do anything. It was difficult to not squirm with the feeling of his breath against your legs. You immediately thought it was because it was gross. You thought that it was weird his face was anywhere near you. But, then again, you didn't find it gross when his nose was mere inches away from yours only a few hours ago. The scene wedged it's way in your head, causing your body temperature to rise. You forced yourself to calm down and turn back to your book.

You were happy you reached the camping grounds as you couldn't focus enough on your book and you ended up rereading 1 paragraph over and over. After the bus parked, you started waking Sam up.

"Hey... Sammyyyy...." It was a little louder than a whisper. Everyone was talking loudly but you were so close to him and didn't wanna yell. "We're here! It's time to get off the bus." You poked his shoulder over and over and eventually, his eyes fluttered open.

"Hmmmm.. You're calling me Sammy now, huh?" It was a mumble, you were surprised you caught it at all honestly, and the tone of his voice made you nervous. A small "no" was all you could muster before he touched your shoulder and said "It's okay, Y/N... I like it."

Before you could think about it, your jaw dropped a little. What the hell??? Why is he touching me? He's being so nice? He didn't have any reason to be mean but this felt very different. As if reading your mind, Sam decided to speak up.

"I get touchy when I'm tired. I promise it won't happen again."

A feeling you couldn't place over took you and you quickly reached out to him and grasped his arm. "Nonono it's okay. You don't have to apologize.... Um... It- it's okay."

You were relived when he chose not to comment on you grabbing him, opting instead to just smile and shake his head.

Before you could protest, Sam had grabbed your bag and was now making his way off the bus. It felt odd, walking so close behind him and letting him carry your things. That was only intensified when you walked off the platform and saw everyone walking around, talking to their friends. You wanted to apologize because, even though you didn't make the buddy-system rule, you felt bad that he wasn't paired with his friend. As you were lifting your head to speak to him, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and walked both of you across the grounds. It was difficult to take in the scenery as your brain short-circuited.

What the hell??

WHAT THE HELL????

OH GOD CAN HE FEEL HOW HOT I'M GETTING?

DOES HE KNOW HOW NERVOUS I AM RIGHT NOW???

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD

Seeing cabins finally snapped you out of your thoughts. "I thought we'd be camping with everyone else? What's this?"

"Well... The school gave you the option to use a cabin durning the night if you payed extra. So... I payed extra!" He laughed at the end and it made your nerves so much worse. You decided to deflect again, trying to use the nervousness as fuel for a snarky remark.

"Hmmmm... Actually that makes a lot of sense. I always pinned you as the princess type." You even surprised yourself. You didn't stutter, you didn't look at him, you felt confident.

That is, until Sam pushed you up against the door of the cabin.

"Don't think I don't see right through you, honey. I can feel the heat radiating off your body. I have since we left school," he leaned down so that your faces were almost touching again, making you feel trapped. "It's cute, how much you think you've been getting away with."

Your jaw opened and closed as you tried to find something to say. He just chuckled and lightly pushed you aside so he could open the door.

The next few hours went by in a blur; talking to teachers, getting acquainted with the camp grounds, and learning about all the activities that were available. You decided you wanted to check out the small corner store and the sunflower field. Even though not many words were exchanged, you and Sam stuck together. In your mind, somewhere deep down, you thanked Whatevergod for having him sit next to you. He was getting less annoying by the minute. What you used to see as annoying or snide comments quickly became playful banter and flirty remarks. He was also strangely soft. You noticed he was kinda disappointed with the heat because he was hoping to wear his favorite sweater. There were a few times you fell behind the group of other kids who were following camp counselors for the tour because he was admiring the landscape. Occasionally, you'd hear him mutter a "wow" or "fuck that's pretty" under his breath.

You also noticed how much he glanced at you. You'd feel him watching you as you walked to get a closer look at a bug and you'd catch him studying your face. At one point, when he should have been paying attention to what the counselor was saying, he made it difficult for both of you to listen by nearly full on staring at you.

"You have a staring problem, ya know?" You tried your best to match the energy he gave off on the bus ride here without actually looking at him or talking above a whisper. His eyes darted around for a second before setting on the counselor and you realized that it didn't make it any easier to pay attention.

The cabins were a comfortable distance from the open camping grounds. You walked through people setting up tents and occasionally stopping to let Sam talk to a few of his friends. When you got inside the cabin, you take the chance to tell him what you wanted to when you got off the bus.

"Sammy- Sam. I'm sorry."

"Again, you can call me Sammy. I like it better than Sam. And what are you sorry for?"

You glanced down, trying to gather the right words. "Well.. I know that you have a bunch of friends that you'd much rather be paired with and I just wanted to apologize, I guess? You got paired with me."

He stayed quiet for a minute before responding. If you weren't looking at the floor, you would be notices his smile and his movements when he walked over to you.

"I like being paired with you. Plus, it wasn't your choice to be paired with me. I would say I'm sorry you got stuck with the man-whore princess..." he giggled a minute before continuing, "but I think you like it, too."

The air felt like it was being sucked out of your lungs as you saw his shoes way closer than they were before. You stopped breathing entirely when you looked up and saw him staring down at you, smirking.

God damnit. He knows what he's doing right?? He likes watching you squirm. He knows what that stupid fucking smirk does to you.

"Whatcha lookin' at, doll?" It was barely above a whisper and you felt his breath fan across your cheeks and mouth.

"Your face, Sammy boy." You wanted it to come out steady but your voice quivered and was even quieter than his. He let out a sharp breath, shamelessly laughing in your face. You kind of wanted to slap him but your arms were stuck to your sides. Even though you weren't shoved up against a door or window this time, you felt more trapped than ever. You also kind of wanted to kiss him. This time, you knew it wasn't just for the shock he's have all over his face but you weren't in the right position to determine why that was.

"You're so cute when you're nervous, you know that? Maybe I should tease you more often. I like the blush. It looks good on you"

Right before you were about to open your mouth, he walked away and started unpacking his bags that were sitting in top of the bed he chose. You snapped out of the weird trance you were in and walked over to the other bed and started pulling out your toiletries and pajamas.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower."

"Okay! Don't fall." He said with a grin wider than what was necessary for the horrible joke.

"Oh god, Sammyyyy. That was terrible!" You couldn't help the loud giggles that bubbles out of you.

You walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. As soon as you did, Sam let out a long sigh. He replayed your giggles in his mind as the thought about the expressions you had when he flustered you. He felt his heart rate pick up before he shook the thoughts away, to tired to deal with it right now. He placed his shower supplies and pajama pants on the foot of his bed before putting every thing else away.

He was reading when you stepped out of the bathroom. It took all of his willpower to not kiss you on the spot. The way you looked with the multicolored sweater paired with yoga pants drove him insane. You hadn't noticed the way he straightened up in his bed when you walked out. You had noticed, however, the way his eyes followed you across the room. You really wanted to fuck with him so you quickly turned to stare back.

"Wow... It's worse than I thought. Have you ever gotten the police called on you for stalking. That would make almost as much sense as you picking the cabin over a tent." A shit-eating grin grew on your face as a hand flew to his chest in faux offence.

"Gasp! How dare you accuse me of such a thing!"

"Okay, we'll get to how I dare to accuse you of such a thing later. Did you just yell gasp out loud instead of actually gasping??"

"Of course I did! It's funnier."

"Whatever. Go shower. I will pitch a tent and break the rules before I sleep in a room with someone that stinks."

"Okay mooooom" He dramatically rolled his eyes affectionately before walking into the bathroom. You didn't want to think about the fact you didn't see a shirt in his pile of pajamas for the night.

You got situated in your bed and opted to lay down while reading, knowing you'd get tired quicker. You wanted to sleep for as long as possible before the next day. You were about to reach the last 3 chapters on your book when Sam walked out of the bathroom. Warmth shot straight to your core at the sight of him with no shirt and hair, dripping water down his chest and torso. His sweat pants hung loosely from his hips and you could see the start of his v line.

Good. LORD. Help. Me. PLEASE OH MY GOD I CAN'T TAKE THIS. WHAT IS GOING ON?????

"Now who has the staring problem, Y/N?" He chuckled before getting into bed.

"Good night, Sammy boy." You said, immediately turning your lamp off after. Knowing he caught you has flustered beyond belief.

"Hmmmm.. Good night."

You prayed to Whatevergod that you didn't dream about him.

#sammy gvf #sammy kiszka #sam gvf #sam kiszka #gvf

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hookedonhuge · 2 years

Text

Between a Rock and a Hard Plane (part 2)

(Read part 1 here)

There he sat. Scrawny little Matt. Scrawny little Matt who was being crushed between two giant muscle freaks. Logic dictates that Matt should be angry with these two men who are taking up more than their fair share of seat room. But this was not the case for poor little Matt — he was far beyond reason. Matt didn’t hate them. He adored them. Worshipped them like gods. Big shredded muscle gods.

That’s the thing with gods. They are worshipped because those below them desire to one day be like them. No matter how unlikely it may be, man will always dream of becoming a god. Through worship, men can momentarily imagine living a better life, or rather a perfect life, as a god. A perfect life where they are at the top with all the power, and all they could ever want. So can anyone really blame Matt for holding onto this dreams and worshipping these men.

But there was a more pressing matter at hand. The two young gods have just introduced themselves, and Matt has yet to return the favour. Man might worship gods but he also fears them.

“Oh… yeah and I’m Matt.” Matt said meekly. “Nice to meet you two.”

Nikos shot Matt a wide smile, showing off his set of perfect, glistening white teeth. “Nah, bud. It’s nice to meet to you.” His powerful hand gave Matt a friendly pat on the legs as he said this (the muscle god did not realise that the power from that pat alone was enough to make Matt’s body quake).

“Yeah there’s no reason to be so polite Matt.” Ivan jumped in. “You are probably pissed that you had to be stuck between two big boys like us.” Ivan and Nikos couldn’t help but instinctively flex as he said this, and rightfully so. However, this flexing only caused more pressure to build up on Matt’s puny body. “If you hate us, I totally understand.”

“No, not at all!” Although as Matt said this he could feel that his body was betraying the sentiment of his words. He wanted desperately to convince the muscle gods that he had no problems with them so he had to take it a step further. “I’m actually glad that I get to sit with you two. It’s not often I get to see people as big as you, let alone be next to them.” Matt felt that maybe he was coming out a bit too strong with that statement and was only going to weird them out.

“I’m glad you accept us.” Nikos said with a heartfelt tone. “You know most people actually call us freaks and tell us that we are ugly being so big.”

“Yeah and whenever we sit next to people will always get complaints and have to talk to the staff.” Ivan chimed in.

“What!” Matt was genuinely taken aback. “Who could say such things about you two. I wish that I looked anything like either of you!” Once again Matt noticed himself being very honest to the two strangers. There was something about them that made it so easy to open up.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Ivan joked. “I don’t think these seat could handle three guys as big as us!”

“But it sure does feel good to meet someone who appreciates our bodies.” Nikos flexed his huge arm in front of Matt. “Go on, have a feel.”

Matt ran his hands down Nikos’s giant bicep, his fingers brushing across the thick vein that protruded out from the ball of muscle. He give Nikos’s bicep as firm of a squeeze as he could. “Wow, it’s rock hard!” Nikos didn’t want to boast, instead he just gave a sly, cocky smile showing that he was proud of the compliment.

“Don’t let me miss out on the fun!” Ivan followed Nikos’s lead and presented a flexed arm for admiring.

Matt reached out and tried to grip as much of Ivan’s bicep as possible. His hand looked comically small as it failed to come close to grasping the immense size of Ivan’s bicep. “It’s just so big.” Matt gawked in complete awe.

“Don’t worry Matt.” Ivan said. “I think if you put in enough hard work you could look just like us one day.” Matt laughed only to be met with Ivan and Nikos’s earnest expressions.

“We’re being serious Matt.” Nikos started. “You may look at us and think that we live in completely different worlds, but we are just two guys sitting on a plane like you. With enough dedication and drive you can achieve anything — and I can tell you’ve definitely got the drive.”

Matt was in disbelief. Why are these two gods being so nice to him? What could they possibly see in scrawny little Matt? These two muscle bros weren’t just gods in appearance, they were gods in attitude too. Matt couldn’t be happier that he was lucky enough to stumble across these two benevolent muscle gods.

(To be continued)

#gay fiction #gay story #muscle fiction #muscle #biceps #muscle arms #muscle god

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kyanitesaphire · 1 year

Text

Lightning In A Bottle chapter 6

The ride share beheading case in Boston had come to a successful end, and although he was sure to text Éclair from time to time while away, Spencer missed her. He took a seat alone in the back of the Jet, pulled up her contact information on his phone, and called her. The line only rang twice before her excited voice blessed his ear.

“Hey Spencer! How’s your work going?” She asked eagerly.

“Uh, good. We’re on our way back home now actually.” Spencer replied trying to keep his voice down and avoid drawing the attention of his fellow teammates.

“Oh! So you caught the bad guy and saved the day? That’s wonderful!” she rejoiced.

“Yeah, so listen, um….I was wondering, once I get back, did you maybe want to go out for a proper date?” he asked timidly.

“Sounds great! Did you have something in mind?” she acquiesced without hesitation. Her eagerness did much to ease his nervousness.

“I hadn’t really settled on one thing yet. I was still deciding between coffee or dinner. Unless there was something you had in mind.”

“ Those both sound good, we could do both if we went to a diner! Maybe even have breakfast for dinner with pancakes or waffles topped with whipped cream and fruit. Or we could go to a movie, and if the movie sucks we could just make out.” Éclair mused playfully. Her bold suggestion of going to the cinema for the almost sole intention of physical intimacy made his cheeks burn among other things. He subtly cleared his throat before speaking again.

“While the second option sounds… appealing… I think for tonight we should go with the first option.” Spencer replied.

“Your probably right.” She chuckled. “As much as I would absolutely love an encore of the other day, now that I’ve mentioned waffles, I’ve really got a hankering for them.”

“Than waffles you shall have.” He decreed while the indelible blush grew a few shades darker. He could hear Éclair squeal with excitement and he took a moment to relish in the sounds of her unabashed glee. “So I’ll pick you up from your place?”

“Sounds great! Text me when your on your way.” She squeaked cheerfully before hanging up.

On the other end of the Jet, the rest of the team quietly discussed Spencer’s less than covert conversation.

“He does realize he’s not fooling anyone here, right?” Rossi asked the group.

“Kid's just lookin for some privacy while he talks to his Honey.” Derek said with a side cocked smirk, displaying his brilliant white teeth.

“ She’s his honey now?” JJ remarked with slight surprise.

“He hasn’t come out and said it but come on. He thought no one saw it but I caught him texting her a few times as we were driving between sites. When has Reid been known to text anyone?” Derek explained to which JJ’s eyes widened and jaw dropped slightly.

“Reid has always kept his personal life very private, and I think it’s best we respect that.” Hotch advised with a hint of reprimand in his voice. “ But it’s nice that he’s finally met someone.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Rossi agreed raising his scotch and the others followed suit raising their own drinks.

Spencer fiddled with the buttons and seams of his long wool coat anxiously as he waited for Éclair to answer the door, but those anxieties quickly melted away with the warmth of her smile as she greeted him. It was clear Yen had a hand in getting her ready but the look suited Éclair’s style well. Her hair was lightly curled, the top portion was tied up in two sections with ribbons like half pigtails and her bells were fed through the ribbons as well. She wore a knee length flowy skirt and a fitted ¾ sleeve off the shoulder shirt. She also wasn’t wearing her usual clunky boots, instead she had on a pair of small dance heels. She grabbed her sweater and quickly slipped out of the house closing the door behind her.

“Alright, let’s get out of here shall we?” she urged grabbing Spencer’s hand.

“let’s, yes.” He managed to choke out. He lead her down to his antiquated Volvo and helped her into the passenger seat.

On the drive to the diner, Spencer told Éclair all about the case he’d just gotten back from and how he and his team tracked down the unsub. Éclair hung on his every word, enthralled by every detail. She wanted to know all about his job, and the more he talked about his coworkers and how they were like family to him, the more she wanted to get to know them too. She urged him to tell her more anecdotes of his relationship with them while over their waffle dinner, to which he obliged.

“I hope to have people like that in my life someday.” She said wistfully. “They sound amazing.”

“ They are,” He agreed . “and I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but some of them already want to meet you.”

“ Really?” She gasped excitedly.

“Yeah, mainly Garcia. She likes to know everything that happens in her friends lives. The others are mostly curious because it’s not often I have any romantic prospects in my life.” He explained as he finished off his meal.

“Mnn! Speaking of,” Éclair began as she worked to quickly swallow the mouthful of berries and whipped cream she had just shoveled in. “ so it seems Tyler and Nikki have some kind of wager going with some of the other staff at the coffee shop.”

“Oh? What about?” Spencer asked worriedly.

“Us. Some of them think we’ll be an item if we’re not already, others think I came on so strong that I probably scared you off.” She divulged, stirring her strawberry milkshake with her straw. Had Spencer still been eating, he would have choked at her words. He guppied for a brief moment as he tried to formulate the best response.

“Well, clearly you haven’t scared me off.” He started slowly, clearing his throat. “As to the first part…umm… is that something you’d be interested in?” Éclair took a long pensive sip of her shake, starring into Spencer’s eyes as she did before replying.

“Part of me kinna already thought of you as such. I know that’s supposed to be something that’s agreed upon, like what’s happening now I guess. I just don’t really understand the whole ‘ it’s complicated/ we’re not putting a label on things yet’ mentality other people have.”

“Oh thank God, it’s not just me.” Spencer half sighed half groaned in relief. “ I mean I understand some people have one night stands and friends with benefits arrangements but this whole dating without dating thing is beyond confusing.”

“I’ve heard the argument of ‘ what if it doesn’t work out?’ you break up obviously. How do you end something you never put a name to? That just makes things more complicated than they already are.” Éclair concurred with Spencer’s sentiments. “How about you? Do you want to make things official as they say?” A smile slowly crept across Spencer’s lips and a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“I’d like that very much.” He replied. Éclair beamed and bounced in her seat joyfully, he bells chiming away as she did.

As they left the diner, Éclair held Spencer’s hand and did a similar skipping dance to the one she did the day they met, like she was being moved by a song only she could hear. Spencer knew all too well how fleeting blissful moments like this can be, so he made sure to commit every detail to memory. The way her hair bounced about her bare shoulders, how her skirt swayed about her in the breeze, even the Pavlovian response he experienced at the sound of her bells.

“Oh! We should take a picture!” Éclair said abruptly turning to face Spencer and colliding into him. “ After all, today is kind of a big deal!”

“Absolutely! This is your first date isn’t it?” Spencer wrapped his arm around her waist and ushered her out of oncoming traffic and back to his car.

“Yup!” She cheered “ That’s why Yen went all out on getting me all dolled up for tonight.”

“Well she did a wonderful job. Let’s not let all that effort go to waste.” Éclair pressed her back against Spencer’s chest and he wrapped both arms around her midsection as she set her phone’s camera to selfie mode and took a picture of the two of them. Once the moment was immortalized digitally on her phone, she reached her hand behind his neck, craned her head back and kissed him. He relished in the sweet taste of strawberries and whipped cream on her tongue as deepened and reciprocated the kiss. Alas the moment of intimacy was cut short when some rowdy passengers in a passing vehicle wolf whistled and yelled out at them to get a room. Éclair was about to confront them but Spencer held her back.

“ It’s OK. This isn’t exactly the best place for this anyway. Let’s get you home, and we can pick this up another time.” He said opening the car door for her.

“Promise?” She pleaded seductively, giving his tie a slight tug towards her.

“ Did I miss your curfew or something? Are you late for you meds?” Spencer chuckled as he helped her into his car and slipped his tie out from her grasp.

“No silly! I took my meds before we left my place. Why do you ask?”

“I guess I’m just not used to this.” Spencer began to grow concerned he may have offended her with his jest.

“What? Having a girlfriend? Or being wanted?” She asked playfully.

“Both I suppose.” He replied in an almost bittersweet tone. “ But I’m sure I’ll adjust quickly.” He added with a wink before closing the car door.

“So the other day I met some people who say they knew me from before I lost my memory, but Lurch thinks I shouldn’t trust them.” Éclair explained as Spencer buckled himself into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“And what do you think? Have they given you reason to doubt them?”

“I don’t know. They seem reluctant to trust anyone, but then again I should be the same way.” Éclair considered her dilemma.

“Well, when we met, you mentioned you tend to have a sense when someone is untrustworthy or wants to harm you. Has that sense ever failed you?” Spencer asked.

“No, but then again I haven’t exactly had much of a chance for it to fail me. Lurch thinks I’m just too trusting because I haven’t felt the sting of betrayal yet, and I would be better off not to put so much blind faith in people.” She answered somewhat woefully. Spencer considered his response carefully.

“ I understand where he’s coming from. The feeling of having your trust violated is painful and something I would never want you to experience yourself. At the same time, having a mindset of trust no one so you’ll never be let down is a lonely way to live.” He said. “In my line of work, I see the worst of humanity, the dark ugly side of people. Our tech analyst Garcia likes to see the good in people. She hates knowing the horrible things we deal with day in and day out. But no matter how much evil my team and I see, and how awful I know people can be, we would never want her to lose that faith in humanity that she has. It reminds us of all the good in the world, and of what we’re protecting when we’re out there.”

“So do you think I should trust them?” She inquired as she reflected on what he’d said.

“I think you should be cautious, but I also think you should give them a chance to earn your trust, rather than assume they are unworthy of it. And if they do in fact know something about your past, wouldn’t you want to hear them out?” Spencer stated. Éclair thought about the advice given to her, considering it carefully.

Spencer walked Éclair up to her door but neither of them were in any rush to part ways.

“ I had a great time tonight. This was a wonderful first date.” Éclair praised as she ran her hands up Spencer’s chest and rested them on his shoulders.

“ Yeah, it was nice to be out with a sweet beautiful woman and not have a gun pointed at me under the table most of the night.” Spencer agreed.

“ That sounds specific. I take it there’s a story there?” She mused.

“There is. It was an undercover operation, and an experience I’d like to avoid repeating.”

“ Well maybe you can tell me all about it on our next date.”

“I like the sound of a ‘next date’” He said as he caressed her cheek.

“Me too. But for us to have a second date we kinna have to wrap up the first one. So how about we end it on high note.” She pulled him toward her so he had her pinned against the door and kissed him with intense vigor, rooting her fingers into his earthy brown hair. If it weren’t for his impeccable memory, he could almost forget she was still dressed as he ran his hands along the exposed skin of her neck and shoulders. He took particular note of how she let out a barely audible whimpering moan as his finger tips grazed along one spot of her neck just below her left ear.

Their sensual exchange was again interrupted, this time by Éclair’s phone going off.

“It’s DD. Probably making sure I’m still going to meet with him tomorrow.” She said looking at the screen.

“Than you should take the call. I’ll let you get to it. Call me if you need me Friday.” Spencer said sweetly, taking a step back “Goodnight Éclair.” Éclair blew him a kiss and mouthed a goodnight as she answered her phone and went into the house.

During the brief walk to his car, Spencer gained an added appreciation for the length of this coat.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x oc #spencer reid x oc #fanfic

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cutieodonoghue · 2 years

Text

invisible string (8/18)

summary: modern soulmate birthmark au; After Omera lost her soulmate, she lost hope she’d ever find love again. Then, a short time before Earth’s first colony ship will be sent to a place they call the Outer Rim, she meets a Mandalorian whose touch makes her Soul Mark burn. (Mandomera!)

rating: hard T

word count: ~7.6k

prev. chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven

read chapter 8 down below or on ao3!

Chapter 8: The First 24 Hours of Your Bond

“Congratulations! This is a big step! Your journey is just beginning, so try not to take the first days for granted. Inevitably, you and your soulmate will face challenges that will test your Bond. These first few days will determine whether you win or lose when those challenges present themselves.” - The Guidebook to Soulmates (pub. 2039, Motto)

There was a tangible sense of warmth that filled her. It ran from the top of her head to the very bottoms of her feet. It lifted her mood and thoughts until she felt like she was lighter than air.

It was the happiest she’d been in a long, long time.

The joy radiated within her chest and shined on everyone she came into contact with at the office. Nobody knew the reason, but she did: she Bonded with her soulmate.

Omera could remember the day she Bonded with her husband very clearly. The same sensation flooded her system. Her soul was finally at peace, but beyond that, there was clarity and joy and wisdom beyond her years that all became an easy part of who she was in one blinding instant.

The best part of these feelings was the knowledge that it wasn’t the end; that she’d barely tapped into the possibilities of who she was now that her soul was Bonded to another.

Fennec noticed a change in her the instant she entered her office and lifted a curious eyebrow. “Should I ask?”

Omera released an airy sigh as she floated toward her seat. “I just had the most beautiful walk outside on my break.”

Fennec tilted her head toward her shoulder. “I can see that.”

“Yes,” Omera replied lightly. “It was a very nice walk.”

Her assistant hummed skeptically. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she glanced toward Omera’s left wrist, which was exposed for them each to see very clearly.

“Pretty Mark.”

Omera smiled. There wasn’t anything that could have pulled her out of this joy she felt. It was impenetrable and unbreakable, just as she hoped that her Bond to Din would be.

“Thank you. I think so too.”

She was able to focus more clearly than she had in an entire week, although she was often distracted by the new way her Soul Mark appeared on her wrist. It was a deeper color, which would make it clear to anyone who saw it that she’d Bonded.

Omera hid her Mark as best she could when she picked Winta up at the end of the day. She didn’t want her daughter to ask questions. Not yet. She and Din still had so much they needed to talk about.

Where did they go from here? How would they make it work? Was a path forward together what they wanted?

Before they made their status as soulmates official through the Bond, she’d always felt an abundance of caution. It was against Din’s beliefs to Bond, and she’d suffered enough in her past to be careful when it came to soulmates.

Their Bond made her feel whole again, filled to the brim with unspoken promises of a future that she knew they’d share. She could see visions of it when she allowed her mind to wander.

He’d given her as much as he could. She’d felt his face. She’d touched his lips and cheeks and nose. She’d felt the facial hair on his jaw and learned that he had brown eyes. His lips were soft when he kissed her.

They shouldn’t have crossed those lines, but doing so was inevitable. She’d felt it. She knew he felt it, too.

It wasn’t the same as before, when they hugged in the hall and she felt like her soul wanted to escape her body. Instead, the yearning was soft: a whisper in the back of her mind that was content as it was, but could feel even more so.

While Winta finished her homework in her bedroom, Omera stood in her kitchen with a recipe for dinner opened on the tablet screen in front of her.

Warm afternoon sunlight poured into the room from big open windows, comparable to the light she felt in her soul. The day was still full of hope and opportunity. She could practically taste it on her tongue and feel it within the individual pores on her skin.

Cara entered the kitchen, having entered the apartment on her own volition, and immediately gasped, “You Bonded.”

Omera narrowed her eyes back at Cara. Her mood was so impossibly high that nothing could have squashed it down, but maybe a conversation with Cara might- especially if she already knew.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“How was it? Magical?” Cara asked. She leaned against the kitchen island to Omera’s immediate right. “Did he take his helmet off, or was there some kind of weird… under the helmet Bonding technique?”

Omera rolled her eyes, playfully annoyed. “There was no Bonding.”

Cara hummed. “I’m your best friend. I think I know a thing or two about the differences between Bonded Omera and Unbonded Omera.”

Her heart leapt. Cara was one of the only people in her life who had been there since her first Bond. It made sense that she would have seen the biggest change in her right away.

The joy she felt refreshed itself as if it were brand new with each passing heartbeat. It made it impossible to not smile.

“I’m just… happy. Is that okay? Am I allowed?”

“Yeah. Of course you are.” Cara grinned. “But is it because of him or…”

Omera laughed and shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Okay, then tell me how training was. You never messaged back when you were done.”

While Omera chopped a fresh tomato, her mind drifted to the way Din had held her right next to the simulation tank. He let her take what she needed from him and never once pushed her away. It was at that moment she knew that things would never be the same between them.

She hadn’t thought about what happened in the simulation tank since it happened, too overwhelmed with hope and joy for it to matter, and for the first time that afternoon, the light she felt became dampened.

She’d lost control. She couldn’t focus clearly enough. The pressure was too intense, both mentally and physically. She kept thinking that if she failed, she would have failed her husband, too.

“I…” Omera stopped herself and sighed. “I had a panic attack in the simulation pod.”

When Omera looked up at Cara, she wore a frown of true concern. “And you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Omera smiled softly. “It was… scary. The last time that happened…” She shook her head. Cara knew exactly what happened the last time she had a panic attack, so she wouldn’t have to spell it all out for her. “Din was there. He helped.”

Her eyes went to the cutting board again.

“You must’ve touched him,” she surmised. “Last time you touched him, you kind of were like this, too.”

If Cara asked enough questions, she’d get to the truth eventually. She was a cop- it was what she did. Omera chose to throw her a bone, hopeful that it would satisfy.

“We did touch.”

She intentionally kept her left wrist downturned, very aware of the fact that Cara watched her every move. She was dedicated to the secret, just as she was dedicated to Din, and would keep it to herself as long as she possibly could.

“Shit,” Cara sighed wistfully. “You guys have a really intense Match. I don’t think a lot of people have to deal with the afterglow of a handshake.”

Omera immediately looked up at her friend. “Winta’s here. Please mind your mouth.”

Cara walked away from the kitchen island beside her, finally, and wandered instead to the other side, where she took a seat on one of the barstools.

“Do you want me to watch the kids for you tonight?” she asked casually. “You can go see him- alone.”

“Who says I want to go see him?” she argued, somewhat amused though she played it off as annoyance.

Omera finished her task and looked at the tablet with the recipe on display. On the screen, there flashed a message notification from Din.

Her heart leapt excitedly. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since he walked her to the elevator after their Bond.

Din: Grogu drew this. Said it was for you.

Attached, there was a picture of Grogu with a huge grin. In his hands, he held a picture of a funny looking rabbit. The artwork was shaded in by all varieties of crayon swirls and scribbles.

It was very much a drawing done by a toddler, but she did love the intention behind it- and the little boy she saw with happily squinted eyes in the photo.

Omera: I love it! Thank him for me.

“You think I’m ridiculous,” Cara scoffed. “I’ll watch them both for a few hours. It’s fine.”

She really shouldn’t. She should have patience and the capacity in her heart to move a little bit slower. But then again… they had a lot to talk about.

“Are you sure?”

Cara smiled, relieved that she’d finally got Omera to be honest, and nodded. “Yeah. No big deal.”

Omera: Do you want to go for a walk tonight? Just us? Cara can watch Grogu.

“Hi, Cara!” Winta greeted brightly.

“Hi, kiddo. How was school?”

“Good. I learned about cars today and I thought of you.”

Cara chuckled. “That’s cool. Did you blow their minds when you knew everything already?”

Winta shrugged as she stepped beside Omera by the cutting board on the counter. “Maybe a little.”

A message from Din came onto the screen and earned Omera’s full and prompt attention.

Din: Give me an hour?

Omera: That works. See you soon.

It didn’t matter what the food was. Grogu always seemed to get it everywhere. It was in his hair, on his clothes, on his face and hands… not to mention the mess on the table and on his chair.

Din sighed as he sat the kid in the tub he’d filled with warm water.

Grogu tilted his head back happily and grabbed his favorite bath toy, a frog that spit water if he filled it. The purchase was a mistake. There wasn’t ever a single bath time that ended with Din having walked away even a little dry.

He liked to think he’d become something of a bath expert. At first, it took a full hour. Now, it was down to under twenty minutes on a good day. The kid liked the water, so if he could spare the time, he’d let him soak in it for a little while longer.

He agreed to meet Omera, though, and already pushed the hour he’d promised her.

Grogu made noises as he played, funny sounds that only a little boy could conjure up, and attacked Din’s bared arms with squirts of water from his frog.

“What does a frog say, Grogu?” Din asked.

Grogu scrunched his nose up. “Rrrrribbit!”

He nodded and laughed under his breath at the pure innocence of the kid. “Yeah. That’s right.”

His fingers went through the kid’s hair as he scrubbed the shampoo into it. Then, careful, he shielded his eyes as he washed it out of his hair.

As the suds washed off of Grogu’s head, Din heard a knock at his front door.

With a heavy sigh, he glanced over his shoulder to see if he could grab his phone from where he’d set it down. He didn’t think it had been a full hour yet, and Omera wouldn’t have come to him first. Would she?

He reached for the kid’s big fluffy towel and held it out.

“I have to get the door. C’mere.”

Grogu whined, dissatisfied, but did as he requested and stood upright. Din wrapped the towel around him and then swept him upwards with a rocket noise so he’d laugh. He was rewarded with a happy giggle.

There were moments where he recognized how different he’d become around the kid. It wasn’t in his nature to be loving and kind like Omera was with the boy, and sometimes he wished he could be. Instead, he did what he could, and that meant he began to pay attention to what the kid liked so he could use those things to make him happy.

The kid liked rockets and cars. He liked to play with blocks and stacked towers all over the house- wherever Din would let him. He liked roughhousing, too, which Din used to his advantage to try and begin to show him how to fight like Mandalorians did.

They’d formed a close relationship, one full of promise and trust. It was something Din could be proud of- how he’d brought this child out of a quiet and shy shell to the happy kid he’d become.

Din carried the boy out of the bathroom that sat opposite his bedroom. He set him down there, behind the baby gate he’d installed to keep the kid from running wild around the apartment.

“I’ll be right back,” Din told him. “Want to pick your PJs?”

Without a word, Grogu immediately took off to where Din had laid out the choices for him on top of his bed.

Din wiped his wet arms against his damp shirt while he went to answer the door and then replaced the sleeves so as to keep his skin hidden from sight.

When he was alone with his thoughts for even just a few seconds, his mind drifted to what happened just a few hours ago in the clinic with Omera: they Bonded.

It felt like he’d been asleep for his entire life, and he could finally see the world and all of its colors and brightness. Sounds were sharper, his vision was clearer, and his mind had never functioned with such precision. He could feel it deeper than his senses, as deep as he could go within himself, where his soul was at peace with his choice.

While he wasn’t sure what all of it meant, he knew he liked it. Even before he met her, he’d never felt as in control of himself before. There was clarity that came with their Bond unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

He would understand if Omera came by before he was prepared to see her, excited to see him, and he couldn’t help but smile as he approached the door because he felt that way, too.

His soul was content as it was, but he knew if they were together again it would be even better.

When he opened the door, the happiness he’d felt the entire day instantly plunged out of his system and instead he went stiff with panic and dread.

It was his Mandalorian accountability mentor, and not a moment too soon.

“Is it a good time?”

There was a good reason that the accountability mentors were told to surprise and show up at random. Sometimes, it was a phone call. Other times, they’d come to him just like this, with expectancy in their posture and four words on the tip of their tongue: have you been faithful?

Din forced the panic down as deep as it would go.

There was, oddly, a sensation of peace that he felt in direct assault against the panic. It wasn’t him who felt at peace. Was it Omera? Was it their Bond? There was still so much he didn’t understand about soulmates and he hoped he could ask Omera about it all soon.

He looked over his shoulder and then gestured to the Mandalorian to come inside.

“Just took the kid out of the bath. Give me a few minutes.”

He didn’t look back to see that the Mandalorian entered. He just trusted that they did.

With his chest tight with dread and his head clouded with condemnation, Din made his way down the hall back to Grogu’s bedroom. The kid sat in the middle of the floor with a pair of his favorite trucks.

His sigh alerted Grogu of his arrival and the toddler grinned at him. “Da!”

Din entered the bedroom and went to grab the clothes from the top of his bed. “You didn’t choose, did you?”

Grogu tilted his head and smiled. “Go space!”

He couldn’t help but smile, even though he knew the Mandalorian just up the hall could probably hear everything the kid yelled.

“Shh,” he hushed, then gestured for Grogu to come to him with one hand. “C’mere, Engineer Grogu.”

His boy did as he was asked and Din made quick work of tucking him into his pull-ups and then his space themed pajamas- patterned with stars, planets, astronauts, and rocket ships. Finally dressed, Grogu smiled up at him.

“Go space, Da! Vrooom!”

Grogu used his hand to pretend to be a ship, blasting off of Earth into space. The child had only just begun to show him this much energy on a daily basis. Din was grateful that he’d become more comfortable around him.

“Yeah, buddy,” Din murmured. He lifted a hand to lift the wet hair from his forehead. “I gotta talk to someone. Be patient for me, okay?”

Din held his breath and considered what he’d say as he walked out of Grogu’s room and moved up the hall to find the Mandalorian just inside his kitchen.

“Sorry.”

“He’s talking some more now.”

Din nodded. “He is.”

The Mandalorian hummed with curiosity. “Do you think he’s ready to join the others at the covert?”

A lump formed in his throat. “Not yet. He has opened up to me, but with others… he hides.”

He had yet to admit to the covert what he’d done- that he’d put Grogu on the manifest to join him on the ship to the Outer Rim. He knew it was wrong to continue to keep it a secret, but Fett’s suggestion whispered at the back of his mind louder and louder the further he strayed from the Way.

“You haven’t brought him to the covert in a while. It’s important to do that.”

“I know…” He sighed and shook his head. “He likes to play with a friend when I pick him up at the end of the day. It’s difficult to pull him away when he likes something.”

The Mandalorian tilted their head, puzzled by what he’d told them. “It is your job as the child’s guardian to lead him down the right path. If he is distracted by this… friend… then you should intervene.”

Din’s jaw clenched. His fingers curled into a fist at his side and then released again. He didn’t like the way they spoke to him- as if they wanted to find a reason to rat him out to the leadership back at the covert.

“I will do what’s right for the boy,” Din replied evenly. “When he’s ready to visit the covert, we will.”

He was met with silence. Then, the terrible inevitable, “Have you remained faithful?”

His Bond with Omera was more than a step away from his faith. He broke a key tenant to remain chaste and abstain from desires of the flesh. He’d plunged headfirst into his Bond with Omera without any thought to the Way.

Guilt sank deep into his gut when he thought about it: the gentle way she’d touched his face and how she whispered that she didn’t want him to go anywhere. The way his Mark had grown ever hotter the longer they touched theirs together.

And then he thought of the relief: the way he felt right then, so clear and full and whole. It was as if the creation of their Bond had revealed to him who he really was.

It was against the Way to lie, but if he was truthful, Grogu would be taken from him. He’d be an outcast. Forever.

He just decided to keep the kid. Was he willing to let the boy go? Was his soulmate worth more to him than a lifetime of Mandalorian teachings?

The longer he fought with himself over these complicated problems, the more he realized what a bad decision it had been to Bond with Omera in the first place. He’d acted on impulse in the heat of one moment that would forever impact the way his life was lived.

It was against the Way to lie, but he needed more time. What was one more broken part of the Mandalorian code at this point?

“I have.”

The Mandalorian nodded. “Have you struggled since we last spoke?”

“Some,” he admitted. “It’s hard to avoid her the way I need to if I’m going to remain faithful.”

They gestured out toward the apartment. “Perhaps you and the child should move. Put some distance between you so all you have to see of her is at work.”

Din was silent. The obvious answer was no, but the Mandalorian in front of him wanted to hear him make positive steps.

“We’re here because the company provides it,” Din explained. “Where would we go instead?”

“The covert has a few open rooms. It might be a good way to integrate the child into his new living arrangement. Once your contract is finished, you can leave him behind.”

He held his hands together behind his back and straightened his shoulders. “The child feels safe here. Progress would be lost if he had to start over.”

“It is your choice, but the longer you allow yourself the temptation of your Match… the more difficult it will be to ignore it.”

“I understand.”

The Mandalorian nodded at him. “Thank you for being honest.”

His mentor stared at him for a few seconds in silence and for every millisecond that passed, Din swore that somehow they knew the truth about everything he’d done.

“Do not forget our purpose,” they intoned with a kind voice, “we are givers and helpers. We fight for those who need it. We raise children to do the same. Keep a clear mind so you can be the best help to those around you.”

Din nodded in agreement. “This is the Way.”

He held his breath as he watched his accountability mentor turn and walk up the hall toward the door.

It was wrong. It was all wrong.

How had he allowed any of this to happen?

His eyes closed and he released a heavy sigh once the Mandalorian was gone.

Guilt was the only thing that filled him- no more joy, no more peace. Guilt that he’d broken the Way. Guilt that he’d liked it. Guilt for what he had to do next.

Din slowly went back to the bathroom, where he’d left his phone, and stared at the time for a full minute before he opened the messages he’d shared with Omera.

Din: Can’t meet up tonight. I’m sorry.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Din stared blankly at Boba Fett’s amused smirk. Without pause, the man tilted his head back and waved him inside the threshold of his home with one arm.

Fett lived right on the water in a small beach house that had a dock in the backyard with a little dinghy attached. A bulldog rested in a cushioned pillow next to the front door and remained quiet, though its ears perked up in alert.

Din carried Grogu, who fell asleep somewhere between the lobby of their apartment and the midway point of the walk up the beach to find Boba’s home. The child snoozed with his arms wrapped around Din’s neck and his legs hooked around his hip, cozy and content even though he wasn’t in his own bed.

“Lay him down here,” Boba suggested gently.

He pushed a pair of pillows to the head of his sofa and then grabbed a blanket from the back that he prepared as Din did as he was directed.

Once Grogu was comfortable, Din draped the blanket over top of his slumbering form and took his hand through the hair on his forehead. The boy stirred some but didn’t wake.

As Din helped situate the kid, Boba wandered out the open back door to their right, just off of the living room.

The space apart from the man gave Din a chance to inspect the home visually. It was a quiet place with off-white walls and tile floors. The rooms were small with just enough furniture within them to feel occupied. In the living room, where Grogu slept, there was a model of the Razor Crest on display in a glass box that sat beneath the television.

On the walls, there were miscellaneous photographs of the beach- sand and waves and sea life. Din’s smile grew when he spotted a picture just beside the back door of Winta, a few years younger, with a big grin on her face while she helped Fett hold a massive fish twice her size.

Din stepped out of the house and into the backyard. Fett sat in a wooden yard chair, one of two that faced the dock and beach. He sipped from a bottle of beer and gestured for Din to join him in the opposite yard chair when he approached.

“Get comfortable. I won’t bite.”

Din sighed as he reluctantly did as he was told.

They both watched and listened to the waves roll in on the shore. The sun had gone down a while ago, and all that remained in the sky were stars that shined brightly beside the moon.

To his pleasant surprise, Boba didn’t poke or pry at all. When Din sent him a message to see if they could meet up to talk, he imagined he’d have questions. Instead, he seemed willing to wait for him to be the one to initiate the conversation.

“You told me your father was Mandalorian,” Din finally said. “Were you a Foundling?”

Boba turned his head to look back at him. “I was.” He nodded slowly. “My father was given the responsibility to take care of me when I was no older than your boy in there.”

Din’s chest felt tight. Since he told Omera he couldn’t meet up to talk, he felt nothing short of miserable. He messed up where it came to his beliefs and to the Mandalorians as a whole. He Bonded with his soulmate. He went behind their backs to put Grogu on the ship.

Where would it stop? How could it end well for him?

The heavy weight of guilt was what drove him to ask Boba if he could stop by to talk. The man was the only person he knew who had a history in the past with Mandalorians. Maybe he would be able to give him advice about how to handle what he’d done.

“What happened?”

Fett smiled. “My father met his soulmate shortly after he was assigned to me. They Bonded.” His expression fell, dismayed, as he sighed heavily. “He walked away from the Mandalorians to be with her, but she left before the end of the first week.”

Din frowned. “Did they let you stay with him?”

Boba tilted his head back and forth. “He atoned and broke the Bond. When I was six, we got out, but the fight was brutal. My father lost everything he had.” He downed a sip from his beer and wet his lips as he straightened up to face him. “Why did you come here tonight? I know it wasn’t to ask me all this.”

Din averted his focus and looked down at the ground. Fett didn’t need to be told everything, but it almost felt as if he was the only one who might understand and lend him wisdom where he needed it.

“I…” he paused. His breath caught in his lungs and tears burned behind his eyes. “I’ve been lying to the Mandalorians.”

Din didn’t dare look up at the man. He didn’t want to know if he was surprised, or if he was disappointed, or if he was amused that he’d strayed. He just needed someone to know.

If the Mandalorians knew, they would react coldly. The weight of his sins made his stomach lurch when he thought of how he had fallen astray. He couldn’t face his sins, as much as he knew it would be the best thing to do.

“I met my soulmate,” he continued, “and I asked for accountability, but it’s been difficult to stay away from her.” Finally, he looked up again and directed his gaze back toward the open door behind them. “I haven’t told them the truth about the kid, either.”

“That he’ll be on the ship?” Fett asked with a much more gentle tone than Din expected from him.

He looked at the man and nodded. “I’ve… grown attached to him. You were right.”

A ghost of a smile sat on Boba’s lips, but he didn’t let it grow any wider. He sat more comfortably in his seat and folded both hands against his chest.

“It took two years for my father to win the battle against the Mandalorians. They won’t take it well if you decide to pull him out.”

Din took a deep breath until his lungs were full and turned away from his companion to look out at the night sky. He still felt awful. None of it felt right. He’d grown up with the Mandalorians. They cared for him. To turn his back on them was wrong.

“They raised me,” Din replied. “It isn’t that simple.”

Boba was quiet for a few seconds.

“My father raised me to be Mandalorian because it was all he knew. The only difference was: we allowed ourselves attachments.” His statement hung in the warm night air for a while. “It is the Way to be loyal. Where does your loyalty lie? With the Mandalorians, or with your boy?”

Grogu refused to sit in his own chair.

He whined and whimpered when Din set him down on his own and clung to him until he relented and brought him into his lap with his stuffed bunny in tow. The kid then buried his face into Din’s chest and curled his body close.

Armas sat opposite them behind her desk. She hadn’t said a single word, but the kid was already afraid.

To be fair to Grogu, they had walked all this way at sunrise with the intention to meet with the Mandalorian leader before work. He had to take Grogu away from his toys, which meant a small meltdown at first, but eventually he warmed up. Until they entered the covert.

Din’s arm wrapped around Grogu in an effort to comfort the boy and he made sure the bunny was secured before he lifted his eyes to the Mandalorian leader.

“I have signed Grogu up to join the mission to the Outer Rim,” he told Armas. “He is too young to learn here at the covert, and by the time he will be capable of learning, there will be more Mandalorians on future colony ships. He will have the same opportunity there as he would here.”

Armas sat straight up, her shoulders squared, and nodded slowly. “You have made this decision on your own.”

A flutter of anxiety rushed through him. “He is in my care.”

“It is not your place to choose who goes to the Outer Rim.”

Din stared at her for a few seconds. “I am his guardian. He relies on me to protect and nurture him.”

“He is a Foundling in our care,” Armas reminded without an ounce of emotion. “You are the one we chose to provide that care. It is not your duty to take him halfway across the universe.”

His jaw clenched before he looked straight down at the kid in his lap. Grogu’s focus was on the bunny in between his hands. He seemed a little more comfortable, but still refused to look anywhere but at Din’s chest.

“You are meant to be his guardian until you leave,” Armas informed coolly. “We will find him another guardian then.”

He nodded. “I will be alone when I get to the Outer Rim.”

“For the time being,” she confirmed. “It is a great honor. You will be a Mandalorian in a new world. The possibilities are endless for how far our reach will extend.”

Din swallowed. His grip on Grogu tightened. “I am thankful to have been given the opportunity.”

Armas tipped her head toward him. “Do not lose focus on the goal. We need someone with your ethic and strength to succeed.”

He thought about his conversation with Fett the night before. Where does your loyalty lie? The reason he brought Grogu to the covert was to solidify his loyalty, but it wasn’t to the Mandalorians. It was to the kid.

So far, Armas had stomped on his aspirations and gave him absolutely no way forward. There wasn’t a lot of time before the ship would leave- at least not enough time to fight a custody battle- and Din knew that there would be a way to convince the covert leader if he just found the right buttons to press.

“Then let me bring him to the Outer Rim. He trusts me. He will learn best from me when the time is right. I will impart the same ethic and strength to him.”

The room was quiet for a long time. Armas studied him, then the kid. The child sensed the silence in the room and frowned at Din.

For the first time, he spoke, a quiet, “Da?”

Grogu pressed his cheek against Din’s heart and leaned his whole body against him while he instead looked at the windows against the wall. Din’s arm wrapped around him and the boy sighed softly, fully content.

When Din met Armas’ eyes, she sat forward and clasped her hands together on top of her desk. Her shoulders slumped as if she were worn down.

“Very well. You may take the child with you to the Outer Rim.” She shook her head and released an audible breath. “But as a reminder, if you break from the Way, we will take him and you will need to face atonement before you can leave Earth for the Outer Rim on our behalf.”

It was difficult to see it as a victory with the stipulations attached, but Din nodded regardless. Grogu was allowed to leave. With one less thing the Mandalorians might find out about on their own, now all he had to keep secret was his soulmate.

“This is the Way.”

Omera felt miserable.

Her heart hurt like it had suffered the burden of brokenness and loss- an intense form of grief that refused to leave.

The feeling came on suddenly, and no matter what she tried to alleviate the way she felt, nothing worked. No funny TV shows, no snuggles with Winta, no snacks of dark chocolate.

She lay awake with her eyes on her Mark for hours. She sent Din a message to ask if he felt alright, but it went ignored, and still the awful feeling persisted.

Work was easy. It was good to fall back into the routine of calls and meetings and following up on messages. It was, in some ways, the same way it had been before she had ever met Din.

She liked to focus on the work. It soothed her. The misery she felt took a backseat when she instead worried about two dozen fresh and complicated problems that arose surrounding the project. Even better, she didn’t have distractions in the form of all of those irritating symptoms that arose thanks to her Mark before the Bond.

At lunch, she and Fennec sat together at her desk so they could continue to work through the break.

Her assistant eyed her carefully. “You’re different today. What happened?”

Omera looked up and shook her head. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m sorry if I’m bringing your mood down. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Fennec’s eyes darted down to her covered wrist. “You Bonded. That’s what’s wrong.”

“No, it’s not that…”

Before the conversation could continue, there was a knock at her door and she averted her focus away from her assistant to see that in her doorway stood the Mandalorian.

Din. Her soulmate. The one her soul was Bonded to.

Her heart squeezed tight at just the sight of him. She was desperate for their connection even when it felt so miserable.

“How can I help you?” she asked politely.

He looked at Fennec, like he wanted to clear the room, then his focus settled on Omera. “Can we talk?”

Instantly, Fennec pressed the button on Omera’s desk that made the see-through glass window walls turn frosted, which gave the office complete privacy. She stood with her lunch in hand.

“I’ll be in the conference room. Get me when you need me.”

Omera opened her mouth to argue that Fennec could stay, but her assistant moved too quickly past Din in the doorway for it to matter.

The door sealed when he finally entered. They were alone.

She stood and held her hands together in an effort to remain cordial and strong. They stared at one another in silence as he moved toward her slowly.

“You didn’t come by this morning.” She tried to sound neutral even if she felt awful. “Is everything okay?”

Din stopped when he got to the corner of her desk while she stepped out from behind it so they could be closer.

“It was a mistake. Bonding.”

She looked up at the place she knew his eyes were and shook her head. “It happened. We can’t take it back.”

Din nodded. She wasn’t sure if it was in agreement, or if he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

“I asked for accountability from the Mandalorian covert. I told them that I had found my Match when we met. They came to check on me last night before I was supposed to meet you.”

Omera shut her eyes. There was an overwhelming sense of guilt that hit her all at once. It was because of her that he struggled, and continued to struggle, with the Mandalorians. She didn’t want him to have to choose between one way of life and another, yet she Bonded with him anyway.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I should have been-”

“I don’t blame you,” he said before she could spiral. “I wanted it to end. The… way it felt was overwhelming.”

Omera shut her eyes and tilted her face downward in shame. “Yes, it was. But that doesn’t make what happened right.”

She heard him sigh as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I’ll lose the kid if I tell them the truth,” Din confessed. “I won’t be Mandalorian anymore. They’ll take him. I’ll lose everything.”

Suddenly, the misery she felt made sense. If this was what Din had to deal with, it was logical to follow that she would have felt the effects of his deep and broken inner turmoil.

“Oh,” she whispered as she looked at him again. “I’m so sorry. That isn’t fair.”

He exhaled. “I’ve been… miserable. I just needed to see you.”

Tears formed in her eyes. “I know. I’ve felt it.” She looked down at her left wrist, covered by a loose-fitted sleeve, and pulled the fabric back so she could show off her Mark. “When you’re Bonded, your soul is tethered to the other person, so the big emotions- the hurt or the happiness- you feel the same way.”

He was quiet as he processed what she told him. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I bear the same burdens you do. That’s all.”

Suddenly, but carefully, Din put both of his palms on her sides. She followed his lead and wrapped her arms around his neck as she stepped into him so she rested just beneath his chin. His arms were warm where they tightened around her waist.

He held her like a promise. He needed to see her. It wasn’t over between them.

“In four months, the ship launches,” Omera reminded. “And when it does, none of this will matter. We just need to keep it a secret until then.”

“It will be difficult to lie for that long. It is against the Way to lie.”

Omera pulled away from the embrace to put a small distance between them again.

She wished the answer to this problem was clearer; that Din wouldn’t have to sacrifice in order to keep what he deserved out of his life.

“What do your instincts say?”

He was absolutely still, his arms by his sides, and his fingers curled restlessly against his palms.

“That I chose you and I don’t regret it.”

Her heart leapt wildly. She hadn’t expected him to say such a thing.

“You don’t have to say that,” she told him as her brow tightened inward. “You’re Mandalorian. Everything that happened between us- our Bond- it was done to quiet our souls. Now that we have peace, you should keep following your code. It’s important to you.”

Din nodded and slowly explained, “Mandalorians follow a code of honor. Loyalty and strength are key parts of that code. When we make a choice, we follow through with it.”

For a beat, he was quiet. Then, he reached out and took her left hand. Her Mark was made darker by their Bond. She still wasn’t used to the way it looked.

“I chose you when I agreed to our Bond.” She lifted her gaze to find that he stared at her. “I will honor that choice.”

Her lips parted and her heart raced. “How do you intend to do that?”

Din surprised her again. Without another word, he pulled his helmet off of his head and set it down on her desk.

Her eyes grew wide in shock. She stared directly at his face, no longer hidden by his helmet or the darkness behind her eyelids.

The first thing she focused on were his eyes. They were brown. Just like he’d told her they were.

She adored everything about him before she had seen his face, so she would never have been disappointed by him, but she felt a small sense of relief to know he wasn’t hard to look at. His features were soft, though she could tell he was made somewhat uncomfortable and awkward from the years of time he’d spent hidden behind his helmet.

Omera smiled affectionately as she swept her eyes over him. She wanted to memorize each line on him, every detail, and never forget.

“Hi,” she exhaled, overwhelmed. “It's you.”

He was captivated by her, so completely overwhelmed to see her this way- to be seen by her- and she could see it in the light in his eyes.

She reached up and her fingers gently touched his cheeks, the same way she’d held him the day before. When she did, he closed his eyes just briefly, like there was tangible weight in her touch that he wasn’t used to.

“One hundred and seventeen days,” he said in a quiet voice. “We can keep it secret that long.”

It was addictive to believe in the hope and promise of a future with someone who knew her as deeply as her soulmate did. For years, she denied herself the possibility of something as good as what Din offered her, and with it in front of her, she almost didn’t believe it was real.

“If it will be easier, we don’t have to see one another everyday. Four months isn’t a long time compared to what’s ahead.”

Din swallowed. He shook his head as her hands fell away from his face to instead rest on his shoulders while his hands found her lower back to hold her closer.

“No.”

It was a simple answer and she liked it. He didn’t need to say anything else. He wanted her and he didn’t want to sacrifice any time together for anything else.

He chose her. He chose them.

“Okay.”

When he dropped his forehead to hers, he released a wonderfully desperate soft sigh through his nose. “Can I kiss you?”

She couldn’t keep her smile away. “Yes.”

Her hands went to the back of his head to hold him when their lips met. He was fiercely passionate, like he had a point to prove, but she felt that intensity fade when her hand settled on his jaw and instead he kissed her like they had all the time in the world.

When it was over, he stayed where he was as they each evened their breathing.

“Winta is going to sleep over at a friend’s house tonight,” Omera murmured. “If you want to come over, we can talk and…” She paused when he pulled away just enough to see her. “Maybe we can watch a movie, or go for a walk with Grogu?”

His hands slid against her arms when they fell to her sides and he leaned in so he could kiss the center of her forehead before he rested his forehead on top of the crown of her head and looked into her eyes.

“Okay.”

Omera’s heart finally felt wholly content again. The dark clouds of misery were gone and she felt the radiant sunlight return, which meant Din must have been satisfied with the decision they’d made.

“Okay.” She smiled wider. “Brown Eyes.”

Read Chapter 9

#mandomera #din x omera #the mandalorian #my writing #invisible string fic #these chapters keep growing when i'm editing them lol #oh well

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jakekgs · 2 years

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how you get the girl, yang jungwon.

not the jungwon fic i promised however… badboy!jungwon in a high school au is close enough to what i promised my beloved sky ;) let me know if you want a part two bc this is very short, here are the picture credits! masterlist, requests.

part one, part two, part three.

he didn’t know when it happened, where you even came from, appearing into his life and practically poising his thoughts as you were all he could think about. and he hated it. hated how it fuelled his friends teasing, he wasn’t nice to anyone. anyone but you. he had spent the majority of his high school life sticking with his one group of friends, majoring in dance although you could’ve sworn anyone else was practically forbidden to practice with him.

maybe he was insecure, you had thought, but after the school’s dance showcase it was obvious he was anything but insecure. jungwon was amazing, one of the best dancers you’d ever seen, and you found yourself smiling upon seeing him afterwards– flowers in hand as he posed for pictures with his grandmother. that’s the jungwon you would’ve loved to know, a cheesy smile on his lips as his dimple took the spotlight.

something to know about him, is that yang jungwon does not hold doors open for people, but monday morning, first period he had. for you. he didn’t even acknowledge you when you muttered a thank you, instead choosing to walk away to his seat. stupid, he now believes, and borderline embarrassing. so why, on tuesday, does he feel his chest tighten at the sight of you and kim sunoo. he knew sunoo, everyone did, he was everybody’s best friend.

so why was it different? and why were you laughing so loudly at whatever the hell he had whispered into your ear, and why in gods name were you placing your hand on his upper arm as you tried to steady yourself.

“jungwon, what are you doing?”

“yeah, where are you going—?” sunghoon and jake’s calls fell on deaf ears, he shouldn’t and he knew that. but he did, he stood up from his lunch table and made his way over to you and sunoo. he was a tall boy, dressed in a variation of your school uniform that definitely broke the rules, a black hoodie over his shirt and tie all underneath his blazer. grey pants which stuck to the dress code but thick, black boots that definitely didn’t.

his walk alone brought stares, his face brought the rest. jungwon was gorgeous, with his newly dyed, dark blue hair you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed his new piercings and look.

“yah, kim sunoo.” his tone was harsh, and something inside him told him it wasn’t harsh enough. he saw the way you immediately looked up to him, your laughter ceasing as your eyes roamed his figure. it’s enough to pull the corner of his mouth upwards, creating a smirk you struggled to pull your gaze away from. “get lost.”

you smile was killing him, any longer and he might actually have to grab sunoo by the collar and force him away from you.

“what’s your problem?” sunoo scoffed, standing up and shaking his head full of light pink hair, his arms crossing over his chest. “no wonder you have three friends.” he snorts, looking jungwon up and down with a disgusted look on his face. “i’ll see you later, y/n.” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and leaving the two of you alone.

“bye, sun.” you wave after him, the sad look in your eyes making jungwon furrow his brow, but once again before he could think about his actions he found himself sitting beside you. “oh! um.. hi, jungwon.”

“heeseung’s having a party this friday,” he replies, almost randomly. refusing to look at you, despite your gaze staying on him, more specifically his side profile which you had never really thought much of before. now, so up close, you were beginning to truly understand why he received confessions almost every single day.

“uh… cool. i hope you guys have fun.” you reply, awkwardly. you had never before been awkward, then again you had never before spoke to yang jungwon and his reputation was beginning to proceed him.

“i want you to come.” he says, almost too quickly, he thinks.

“oh?”

“if you want to, o-obviously.” he coughs, and you almost think he’s nervous. “nice shoes,” he grumbles as he stands up. “they’re new, right?”

he walks back to his friends with his hands in his pockets before you can reply, jungwon knows they’re new. and, upon your very short but unbelievably sweet interaction there’s something else he knows too, he wants to get the girl; and that girl is you.

for sky!!! @blessed-sky <33

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neochan · 2 years

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PAIRING | mafia leader!jaehyun x reader

SYNOPSIS | it's time for you to move on from jaehyun and move in with taeyongs crime family, but first you need to pass his initiation?

WC | 12.685K

GENRE | mafia au!, smut

WARNINGS | alcohol, cursing, manipulation, guns, strippers, slapping, degradation & praise, choking, fingering, oral male receiving, hickies, finger sucking, bruising, forced submission, exhibitionism, voyeurism, a cliff hanger ... sorry

A.N | this might be a slow going chapter, but it sets up very nicely for the next three.

ACCESS MASTERLIST HERE

He spreads out six photos across the dark cherry oak desk and looks up at you with a smirk, “Pop quiz time.”

You clasp your hands together to keep from picking at your fingernails and begin to assess the six handsome men in front of you. The photos were dark, but you could still make out each male defining feature – pink hair, a scar, a broken arm.

Jabbing a manicured nail at the first photo, you inhale the spicy cologne wafting from Jaehyun’s perfectly tailored suit and begin, “Lee Taeyong. Neo Cultures leader, although he acts like one. Pink hair because he thinks it’s fun, in truth he looks unprofessional, incapable, and just outright dumb. No preferred weapon or method of killing, instead he makes everyone else do his dirty work. Small, easy to manipulate, not a problem for me.”

You look up to find Jaehyun baring his teeth in a rather cold smile, “and how did he achieve this position?”

The half empty water bottle in front of you casted a perfect rainbow on the skin of your knee when you shifted in your seat, “You and he made a pact four years ago. He would separate himself from Neo city and run half of the clients, specifically weapon manufacturing and black-market deals, along with small heists targeted to take out corrupt individuals dominating the 1 percent, and you would run the big stuff, narcotic dealings, international affairs and keeping his group in check. This split made him the leader of his own division, Neo Culture.”

You place one hand on his photo and look up through your lashes, “and must I say sir, the similarity in names stems from his inability to think for himself,” You scoff, “I mean come on, Neo City, Neo Culture. Basically, copying you.”

He waves you off, “Continue y/n”

The fact that your attempt at sucking up was brushed over, completely ignored, left a sour taste in your mouth.

The second photo was worn around the edges from how much you’ve held it, analyzed it. “Nakamoto Yuta, one of the best field agents in this industry. Usually, the one assigned to taking out the corrupt 1 percent as well as anyone else who challenges Neo Culture. A charmer, easily trustable, but that’s because he looks like he just stepped off a Gucci photoshoot. Has a scar that runs the length of his spine, “you throw a hand out in Jaehyun’s direction, “and before you ask, he got it from a fight a few years back when he was still under your watch. Let his guard down for three seconds and ended up with a knife being dragged down his back. Never made that mistake again. Pretty sure that’s why he loves using knives to kill now. Some kind of vengeance thing.”

Jaehyun rests both of his elbows on the wide desk and lays his chin on top of his hands, “Information before I even ask? Good girl.” You feel the butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach and look down, a hot blush covering your cheeks. The walls felt like they were going to close in on you, but you realize that’s just because Jaehyun has leaned even closer to you than before, making his thick cologne that much more prominent – it was getting hard to breathe.

Clearing your throat, you start where you left off. “Um, yeah, he’s not gonna be a problem for me because I don’t have a thing for pretty boys with tragic back stories.” Jaehyun gives a short chuckle.

He nudges the third photo towards you with his elbow. You look down and staring back at you is a familiar face. “Na Jaemin, just like Yuta, he’s one of the best, except he specializes in sharp shooting. He can hit targets from two hundred yards away and nail them dead center each time. He’ll be easy to befriend,” You see Jaehyun about to interrupt, and again you stop him before he gets the chance, “and no, it’s not because he’s my ex. That won’t be an issue. If anything, it’ll help me get situated in their family better. “

Taking his elbows off the table, he reclines back in his black leather office chair, and begins to rub his temples. His eyes are closed when he speaks up in a bitter tone, “If he asks to fuck?”

An unflattering snort makes its way out of you. The question was ridiculous. You and Jaemin broke up on good terms, under no circumstance would he ask to fuck, but Jaehyun had some psychotic sexual claim on you and his question was actually a thinly veiled threat.

“I doubt he would do that,” your hand trails over the wood ingrain on the desk, “but on the premise that he did, I would refuse.” You watch the corners of his mouth upturn into a grin.

“That’s all I needed to hear, go on.”

You go through each of the members for him, bringing up the tiniest of details to pass this pop quiz, sprung randomly on you. Although, it wasn’t random. You were training for this. You had been for months; and so, to please Jaehyun you wracked your brain for everything you knew and spilled it all for him while he scrutinized your every word.

Lee Jeno, the one you should be the most worried about. Trained to kill from a young age and stuck to Jaemin like glue. He’d do anything for his bestfriend, and with you being the ex, he was never going to let his eyes off of you. He favors his personal handgun, a Glock43X, with the sleek silver top and added four rounds to the previous six, it’s powerful and easy to conceal, just the way Jeno likes them. You were almost scared of him. Almost. The cold front he put up was nothing like his actual personality. He slept with upwards of seven stuffed animals at a time and acted like a golden retriever – pathetic for someone with his kind of job, but always remember your roots, you guess.

Lee Haechan, the recruited college kid who thrives off of caffeine and cheap camgirls that he doesn’t actually pay to watch. A click here and a click there and boom, he’s enjoying a free show while sipping on his iced caramel macchiato. He may be good with computers but he’s shit out of luck when it comes to anything else. Since he’s the only hacker in the group Taeyong uses the hell out of him. He’s overworked and underpaid, what could be a better duo? He’s absolutely no threat to you, and it was almost laughable that the young kid was in a crime family. Taeyong must have seen something in him that everyone else was blind to.

And lastly, Mark Lee, the voice of reason in a gaggle of hot heads and himbos. Even less of a criminal than Haechan. He seems to be more of the butler and assistant than a part of the family, but nevertheless he has his moments. He follows a strict schedule. Every morning he gets up and cooks’ breakfast for everyone else, and every night he cooks dinner. Monday and Tuesdays are reserved for coming up with and manufacturing weapons at an offsite location (in case something blows up), Wednesday and Thursdays are for conducting black market deals, Fridays are for drop off of materials for the previously made deals and the weekend is reserved strictly for him and his personal life. Unless Taeyong requires him for a specific assignment, Mark follows this schedule to a T, which makes your mission so much easier for you.

You picked up the last picture and absentmindedly rubbed your thumb over the couple. Mr. Mark Lee and his precious girlfriend Na Ara. In the photo she’s sitting on his lap, one arm slung around his shoulders, a red plastic solo cup in her hand. She looks like she’s having the time of her life, and he looks absolutely in love. You had never met him before, but her familiar dark brown eyes stare back at you.

Jaehyun stands up and makes his way around the desk to gently sit on the edge of it right in front of you. He plucks the photo out of your hand and tosses it behind himself. “You passed with flying colors darling.”

You smile to yourself but that isn’t enough for him. He needs to see you. You feel his hand stroke your cheek and encircle your jaw, pulling you up to stand in front of him. His eyes glance down to study your lips – they were always his favorite part of you, they fascinated him to no end. He could kiss you right now, God he could just ravage those beautiful lips, but he wasn’t done with you quite yet, and so he asks his last and final question. “And your assignment?”

His head stoops down to nip at your neck, almost making you fall into him, but your arm shoots out to grip the desk. “Collect their client intel, their trade secrets, and then report back to you.”

If his mouth weren’t preoccupied, he would have reprimanded you for being too vague, but you tasted so good, and he couldn’t think straight. He leaves a trail of kisses up the side of your neck, along your jaw, and hovers just above your mouth, “We’ll destroy them from the inside out.” His voice is a chilling whisper sliding its way down your spine. The shiver that racks your body brings him to his senses. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips, and it’s superficial, but you knew his real goodbye would be given later that night.

He pushes you away and straightens up, fixing his tie which had loosened a bit too much for his taste. “Go get ready, it’s your last night here, and we have dinner reservations at seven.”

———————

Your closet was full to the brim and yet you still couldn’t pick an outfit. In Jaehyun’s presence you learned that appearances were everything. They make or break every deal, every relationship, and even though tonight was a casual event, you still had to prepare for anything.

Nothing too slutty, which ruled out half your wardrobe, but it had to be a dress because Jaehyun loved seeing you in dresses and it was your last night with him for who knows how long. It couldn’t be too sparkly or showy – tales of past assignments and good times are sure to be the topic of conversation, and you couldn’t have anyone listening too closely.

You settled on a knee-length wine-red number that had a slit up the left side. It was held together by thin, shoelace like straps, and it had the faintest bit of shimmer – it would pair well with the black red-bottoms you were just gifted.

The perfect piece to complete the outfit was the ring sitting on the nightstand table. It had a flat silver band and a small diamond at the top. It was Jaehyun’s promise ring to you. Not a promise for marriage, but a promise that he would always protect you, no matter what. He hasn’t shown any signs of breaking it and it’s been months since it was given to you.

You smile down at your ring finger and feel the familiar butterflies you got when thinking about him. He just had this way of worming himself into your heart and never leaving.

Your phone buzzes in your pocketbook and you dart to answer it.

WINWIN’s name flashed on the screen so you accept the call and put it on speaker, freeing your hands so you could touch up your makeup “You have about three minutes to get down here or we’re leaving you.” He sounded fed up.

“Okay, okay, I’m on my way.” You hang up on him and dash through the maze that was Jung Jaehyun’s house.

Seriously, you think, he could really use a map at each corner.

You finally break free of the stuffy mansion and stand outside, the sun beating down on you almost immediately. Winwin was leaning against the car – a matte black Rolls Royce that you knew was Jaehyun’s choice because he refused to ride in anything else. You wished he had picked the dark green Lamborghini, a gift from WinWin (who favored Italian cars over everything else), but alas he didn’t. At least this would fit everybody.

WinWin was beautiful for a male. His inky black hair was styled in an undercut, a few strands drooping onto his forehead to brush the top of his eyebrow. On unblemished skin sat a straight narrow nose, and below that, beautiful plush lips that always sat in a pout as if camera ready. He was tall and lithe and walked with the confidence of someone who could end your life in a millisecond.

Tonight, he was clad in a black glittery suit, probably Versace. His matching shoes had obviously been polished because they shined so bright you had to hide your eyes for a minute. What really took you aback was that he was wearing no undershirt, no loose button up underneath the suit jacket. Just like his face, his chest sat unblemished. He was too perfect, and it wasn’t fair.

He just needed to fix his attitude sometimes.

“Took you long enough,” he opens the door and gestures, “get in before we’re late to yourgoodbye dinner.”

From inside the car, you hear Jaehyun clear his throat, “Watch your tone Win.”

You climb inside the spacious vehicle and slide next to Jaehyun. The leather was hot and sticky, but nonetheless you settle back against it. The door shuts behind you as you peer at the others sitting across from you.

“Hey y/n long time no see.” Jungwoo smiles around the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips. He takes a few long drags and tosses the stick out of the window.

You’ve never seen him in formal clothes, but that was probably because he was rarely around. The last time you saw him he was in sweat shorts and a plain black t-shirt headed to carry out a mission for Chenle who was curled up sick in bed. He looked good though, with navy-blue slacks and a blue floral suit jacket to match. His golden hair was styled in loose curls, and a darker gold half crown was perched on the peak of his head – expensive taste as always.

“You really gotta quit those Woo.” Your smile back to him was genuine, but the corners of your mouth didn’t turn up the way they would on a normal night. Christ, you didn’t want to cry tonight, but the waterproof mascara wasn’t meticulously applied for nothing.

“Never” and with a wink of his honey amber eye he puts his air pods in and turns his attention to a video game on his phone.

The car starts and Winwin steers towards the estates exit. It was guarded by two fifteen-foot solid iron fences that only opened to winwins voice.

You look over to Chenle who has his eyes closed, head fallen back again the seat. He’s in the same plain black suit he wore to your parent’s funeral.

Oh fuck

You feel the hot prick of tears in the corner of your eyes.

He’s lost both of his parents and now he’s mourning the loss of his sister. “Of all the suits Lele?” your voice comes out in a cracked whisper.

He doesn’t open his eyes when he responds. “I don’t know if you’ll come back or not.”

You don’t know if you wanted to hit him or hold him, but you knew that comforting him wasn’t an option. “I’m gonna come back.”

Jaehyun grabs your hand and strokes your thumb, “She’s not going to be gone for long, okay?” You nestle your head onto his shoulder, thankful that he was at least trying to assure your younger brother of your survival.

Jungwoo pushes his nose further into the screen of his phone trying to avoid the situation.

“But we don’t know that for sure.” He sits his head up and you immediately recognize how bloodshot his eyes are – he’s been crying. “She could die trying to get recruited, hell, she could get shot while trying to talk to Taeyong.” He’s growing angrier, his body shaking. He wraps his arms around himself.

“Language.”

“Don’t tell me what to do Y/N.” sucking his teeth, he resumes his original position.

“You know I could die any day? Whether I’m here or not.” You watch helplessly as a single tear slides down his cheek.

“At least when you’re here I can keep an eye on you.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out his earbuds, putting them in to block out the rest of the conversation.

You shouldn’t be feeling hurt. He was right. You were the one leaving – abandoning him. The air was beginning to choke you. It was too stuffy in this car.

Jaehyun’s hand continues to stroke your thumb. From what you could see he was in a dark red fit that matched your dress. What a coincidence.

His phone disrupted your thoughts, “Ah business.” he mumbles, shrugging you off his shoulder to answer the call.

The rest of the car ride was held in silence.

———————

The atmosphere around the dinner table switched from absolute tension to complete ease the moment Renjun showed up.

He was mumbling apologies that you ended up waving off because you knew how busy he was. He worked at Seoul International Hospital as one of the top heart surgeons. To him, working for Jaehyun was merely a side job.

He supplied the narcotics that Chenle would turn into stronger, sometimes deadly, knockout drugs. It was easy money for him, so you didn’t blame him for having you at the back of his mind.

The dinner was absolutely wonderful. Everyone had their attention on you, asking you questions nonstop, probing you for stories that you didn’t have. It was a joyous, pleasant time, and even Chenle snapped out of his sour funk and joined the conversation.

When the food was delivered everyone dug in, hungry after a long day of working, but nearing the end you could tell they were ready to go.

Jungwoo kept checking his phone, Renjuns eyes were fluttering shut every few seconds, Chenle had become quiet again, and Winwin had already gone, sent off somewhere by Jaehyun.

The waitress comes over to tell you that the check had been taken care of by the owner – one of the many perks of knowing Jaehyun, everyone was indebted to him.

Stretching in your seat, Jaehyun extends a hand out to you, “My lady.” You take one more sip of the champagne in front of you and take his hand, straightening your dress with your other.

He walks with you, side by side, out of the restaurant whilst all the other tables stared at your group. You couldn’t blame them; you all were hot and dressed to the nines.

Even though night had fallen it was still scorching outside. The valet service off to your right was where you normally headed, but because Jaehyun had sent Winwin off with the car you were waiting on him to come back to the restaurant.

Renjun holds his arms out to you, waiting for an embrace, “I drove myself so I must be on my way, but I’m going to miss you y/n, make us proud and complete your assignment well.” His arms tighten around you, and you felt for the first time tonight a sense of peace.

“I won’t let you guys down.” From behind you, Jaehyun coughs and you feel Renjun smile into your shoulder.

“Sorry Jae, I’ll take my hands off your girl now.” And with a squeeze of your arm, he’s gone. You wonder when you’ll see him again, a few months? Years? Surely it wouldn’t be that long.

Your head jerks to the right.

No way

The dark green Lamborghini glides its way in front of you. The driver door opens and out steps Winwin. You squeal and dart to run your hand along the elegant car. “Your chariot has arrived.”

You can hear Jaehyun belly laugh behind you, “Get in princess.” You giddily climb in the back seat and wait for him to join you.

“How are we gonna get home?” Chenle mutters.

Jaehyuns tosses the Rolls keys over his shoulder before climbing in after you, and Jungwoo fumbles to catch them.

“How did winwin drive home to pick up her car if -” Chenle is cut off by the door closing.

You inhale the lovely smell of brand-new leather and settle back into your seat, ready for the relaxing, smooth-as-butter ride home, but Jaehyun had other plans in mind.

As Winwin climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, Jaehyun maneuvers you so that you were underneath him. The car was small, but there was enough room for him to tower overtop of you.

You were taken by surprise, but you don’t say anything, just watch his eyes drag up your body and land on your lips. Again, with the lips, he couldn’t help it.

His index finger draws circles onto the skin of your thigh as he leans against your body to whisper in your ear, “I couldn’t tell you earlier, but you look really,” he lets out a breathless laugh, “really fucking good in that dress.

You appreciated this side of Jung Jaehyun. The vulnerable part of him. The part that let loose after a couple glasses of Scotch. He was much less insufferable this way.

“Well Mr. Jung Jaehyun,” Your hands slide against the flat expanse of his abdomen, moving to clutch the collar of his pink silk shirt. He was intoxicating to say the least, and maybe it was the three glasses of champagne talking, but you could feel yourself getting drunk off of him, “I wore it just for you.”

He closes the gap between your faces and melts into you, finally giving himself what he had been craving all night. Just a taste of you, a small resolve to the feelings he was having about losing you tomorrow. His lips move effortlessly with yours, in sync as they’d been the first night he had you, fucked you, bruised you, made you irrevocably his.

He bites your bottom lip, asking, no, demanding, for you to open up and let him taste you more, and you comply immediately. You feel his hand wrap lightly around your throat, his rings cold against your burning skin.

The soft erratic moans pouring out of you hum against his tongue, involuntarily making his fist squeeze tighter. He pulls away from you and takes a big gulp of breath, “you’re so fucking hot.”

Your face grows hot, not used to the praise from him, but then it hits you – he’s doing it for Winwins amusement, who since starting the car hasn’t uttered a single word. You gulp, eyes widening at the thought that winwin might be getting off on this too.

Between painting small bruises onto the skin of your neck he’s whispering dirty secrets into your ear. Most notably words of what he wanted to do to you. How he wanted you to get on your knees and suck him off but fuck he wanted you to open your legs so he could feel how wet you were for him. His teeth nip the side of your neck making you arch up against him.

With each whisper of his you feel yourself growing more and more needy. If Winwin wasn’t here you’d let him fuck you, fog up the glass and then do it again on the hood of the car, but you couldn’t – not yet.

“Jae please – oh fuck.” The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat made its way between your thighs. Rough fingers play with the edge of your panties, teasing you, but he doesn’t follow the roll of your hips into his palm. Instead, his hands fall away, and he straightens up, fixing his shirt and smoothing down his hair. You watch him and Winwin exchange smiles in the rearview mirror.

You whine, reaching your hands out to touch him, to pull him back down so that he can continue teasing you because fuck you didn’t care that Winwin was there anymore you just wanted to feel his fingers against you, but all he does is slap your hands away and grab your jaw, “Fix yourself, we’re almost home darling.”

You sit up and shimmy down your dress that had ridden its way up around the small of your waist and fix your hair that had been furiously rubbing against the seat and was now in some knotted mess.

“You look like a slut.” Jaehyun whispers and you hear Winwin chuckle from the driver’s seat.

Jaehyun’s estate was perched at the top of a hill, stark white marble, with ten-foot pillars on either side of the steps leading up to the golden French doors that he had replace the original black wood ones.

Winwin parks in front of the mansion and gets out to open your door, and when he does, Jaehyun grabs you and kisses you, teeth knocking against teeth and spit falling to stain your dress. The breath is knocked out of you and you accept Winwins hand to help you out of the car in a daze.

Jaehyun gets out behind you and even though you’re already halfway up the steps you hear him, his voice low and gravelly. “Sure you don’t want to stay and join?”

You scoff at him, at how unbelievable he could be sometimes.

Winwins voice comes out in soft laugh, “Thanks for the offer but I have to be at Doyoungs dealership in half an hour, he has a classic De Tomaso Pantera and he’s giving it to me for only two hundred.”

Your ears perk up at how such an expensive car could be going for so cheap, especially a classic, but then you realize he means grand. Two hundred grand.

“Alright, well, I’ll call you if I need you.” You hear them clasp fists.

Winwin yells after you, “Y/N, I’m gonna miss you girl, have a good time, and don’t let Jaehyun fuck up your legs tonight, okay?” You hear the smirk in his voice as you turn around.

“Shut up Win and go fuck some bitches for me.” Jaehyun walks up beside you and grabs your arm.

Before Winwin gets in the car, he’s shouting one last response, “oh that’s a given babe.”

You’re going to miss him.

Jaehyun unlocks the front doors by typing a series of numbers on a keypad, evidence that Chenle and Jungwoo hadn’t come home yet. They were probably joy riding trying to pick up chicks in the Rolls.

On another night Jaehyun would have cared, but not tonight. Tonight, he’s grateful for the empty house.

The door clicks open and Jaehyun leads you inside the house. He shrugs off his jacket and throws it on the bottom step of the spiral staircase in front of you.

Kicking off your heels you start to walk towards it, but you feel Jaehyun’s hand snake its way into the roots of your hair and pull you back against him.

“What the fuck,” you cry out, “That hurts Jae.”

His top lip curls up into a snarl, “I haven’t even started yet.” He pushes you down, so you were kneeling in front of him. The marble floor was cold, and it seeped into your skin. You were surprised by his brashness, but your hands weren’t, automatically coming up to rub the sides of his legs and brush the straining fabric of his pants.

“Tonight, I’m going to make sure you remember who you belong to, so when you leave me to go live with a bunch of pretty boys you ache for my cock in you, understand?” the words leave him with such malice you feel yourself recoil.

God, you looked so pretty down there, knees bruising on his marble floors, patiently waiting for his cock in your mouth. It was true, what he said in the car, you looked like a slut. But you were his, and Winwin wasn’t supposed to laugh at that.

He hates when other men give you attention, couldn’t you see that?

“Understand?” You were taking a little too long to answer for his pace, so he crouches down to look you in the eyes.

“Yes – um, yes sir.” His eyes sparkled back at you, and even though he just hurt you, you would do anything for him in this exact moment.

“Good girl” he coos, his hand moving up to caress your porcelain cheek.

Your hands reach up to undo his belt, and he doesn’t stop you. He lets you undress him, take his cock in your hands, and stroke him, looking up at him the entire time.

“Suck.” He commands, and you have no choice but to oblige, taking him in your mouth and rubbing your tongue erratically.

His hands find their way into your hair, grabbing fistfuls so that he had something to grab onto. He unapologetically thrusts into your mouth making you gag around him.

“Fuck baby.” He loved hearing that sound.

Again and again, he thrusts, until your eyes were blurring with tears, and you wrenched your head away from him in an attempt to get a breath in.

“Can’t take it huh?” he coos.

“I can.” You pout, gasping for air.

He smiles down at you, “Well come on darling, let’s go upstairs.”

On the way to the bedroom, his hands never leave yours and you’re thankful for it. Thankful for the support.

When he gets to the room, he throws open the door and pushes you inside, towards the bed.

“Lay down princess.”

You do as he says and patiently wait for him to crawl overtop of you.

“How much do you like this dress?” He questions from across the room.

For a moment you wonder what he has in store, but then remember it’s best not to let your mind get the better of you in these types of situations.

“I think you like it better than I do.” You counter.

His face pops up from the side of the bed, and your eyes slide from his to what he was holding in his hands – a knife.

“I think you’re right about that.”

He takes a fistful of the dress and sticked the knife in it, dragging it down your body. The air was cold against your exposed skin.

“Fuck me.” You breathe.

“Don’t got to tell me twice.”

He hops up onto the bed beside you and tosses the knife onto the floor where he was just standing.

You were going to miss this the most.

———————

The next morning was a blur and the champagne you consumed last night was not helping in the slightest. At least Jaehyun had the decency to leave you a tiny blue pill that would eradicate your throbbing headache. Other than that, he was nowhere to be found while you were getting ready to leave the confines of his home for what could very well be months.

But as he always said, when business calls, you pick up.

Chenle and Jungwoo had also skipped out on the day of your leave, and when you walk outside you notice the Rolls was still missing.

They’re probably sleeping at a whore’s house, you thought.

The only one to greet you on your way, if only for a short ride, was Winwin.

“I’m glad to see you.” you slide into the passenger seat of the BMW. There was no need for extravagance today – no matter how much you looked the part.

Your hair was up in a complicated twist, small pieces falling down to frame your face, accentuating the curve of your jaw. Heavy diamond earrings dripped off your earlobes, matching the diamond necklace that sat at just the right length despite rubbing against the sore parts of your throat – the parts that had been in Jaehyuns hands most of the night. A beautiful dark blue dress, that was definitely meant to be a club dress, and a club dress only, hugged your body in all the right places.

It was going to be a fun evening.

The distance was short, but the ride seemed to stretch forever. You began to pick at your fingernails. What if this didn’t work? What if you couldn’t squeeze a place in Neo Culture? Taeyong surely wouldn’t reject you on the spot without assessing your skills, right? But then again, from what you’ve learned from Jaehyun, Taeyong could be cold and ruthless. There was a fair chance that you could end up missing tonight, just as Chenle feared, but you clamp down on your nerves. There would be no room for doubt. Not tonight.

You’ve been preparing for months on end. It would be easy. There was one steppingstone to getting to Taeyong, and then you would be in, welcomingly accepted into Neo Culture as one of their own.

You look out the window. City lights whipped by at a hundred miles an hour, blending in with the light rain that began to fall, it was beautiful, but nothing could prepare you from what you were about to see.

Lacuna, the most exclusive club in all of Seoul situated on a strip of more populated clubs lacking in luxury. The outside façade was two stories of dark black metal with strips of gold embedded to highlight the illuminated sign hanging just above the door. It sparkled with an intenseness brought out of heaven – or hell more likely, and the people lined up outside of the door, begging to be let in, begging to just have a taste of what was the normal for you, well, it added to the luxuriousness of the place. You could see flashes of purple and red neon lights spilling from the double doors guarded by two men in stereotypical suits and sunglasses.

As much as Jaehyun had talked about Lacuna, he had never actually brought you there. It was a shared space between and him and Taeyong, who even after the pact had to be in cohorts of some sort to settle financials for the two groups. It was the one place neither of them wanted to give up. So, it was turned into a neutral zone, a place for business.

Taeyong, however, loved to visit the club for amusement, and tonight just happened to be one of those nights.

Winwin pulled up to the curb and set the car in park, “Do well y/n” his eyes are sad, but the warm smile still made them crinkle at the corners.

“I promise.” You say, stepping out of the car, careful not to expose yourself to the people waiting to be let in. Your dress was insanely short, and if Jaehyun saw you in it, knowing that you were about to be dancing on one of the ‘pretty boys’ he warned you about, he would have thrown a fit.

The air outside of Lacuna was refreshing. The whipping wind blew scents of perfume mixed with liqueur in your direction. You could smell a burger joint further down the strip and your stomach rumbled.

Winwin pulls off from behind and you’re left with nothing but the clothes on your back, and a knife strapped on your hip.

Alright you’re a God in 3…2…1.

You strut up to the bouncers and flash them the sexiest smile you could muster. The people behind your mutter in protest, but you pay them no mind.

“What do you think you’re doing sweetheart? Back of the line.” The bouncer on the right looks down at you, an indiscernible look plastered on his plain face.

The one beside him scoffs, as if you had the audacity to even walk up to them.

“Do I need to call Taeyong? Let me in.” You continue to smile, your hand coming up to gesture at the doors. The bass thumped loudly from within the club, mimicking a heartbeat and definitely drowning out yours.

“I’ve never seen you with Taeyong. You’re not a friend of his,” he looks over at his buddy, “Not even one of his whores.”

They erupt in a fit of laughter and you feel your cheeks heat up in anger. You can hear a few of the people in line chuckling along with them even though they had no clue who Taeyong was.

This was not supposed to happen.

“You have about four seconds before I call him,” You drop your voice into a low whisper, “And trust me, he’ll have your heads blown off for denying me.” Both of their mouths turned down in a frown.

And just as you were about to pull out the phone you didn’t have, your savior steps beside you and tugs you close to his side. He must have drowned himself in axe body spray because when he throws his arm around you, it smacks you in the face, choking you.

“Yo, she’s with me.” The boyish lilt in his voice was calming. This was familiar territory. He was familiar.

“Are you sure Jaemin? I’ve never seen her with you before.” The guards give you a once over one last time.

“I’m sure,” you look up at him and see that he’s grinning down at you, “me and her… we go way back.” Pain flashes in his eyes, but just as quick as you saw it, it’s gone.

“Alright,” the guards step aside, leaving a narrow way into the club, “sorry about that miss.”

You give a small smile and slip past them into the small hallway.

You had memorized Lacunas ins and outs. Not only the main floors, but the hidden rooms and pathways that were reserved for Jaehyun and Taeyong only. You go through them mentally to recap, just as Jaehyun had taught you.

Black exposed brick with matching linoleum tiles led to a staircase which brought guests down to the first of three levels. It was the dance floor, with multicolored squares, which lit up in sync to whatever pop song was playing, hundreds of sweaty, semi-famous people could grope and grind on each other. Against the right wall was a dark oak bar in the shape of an L, with three finely groomed bartenders, and thirty-two seats exact. Just beyond the end of the bar were the bathrooms. In the left corner was the VIP section, or what the locals outside thought was VIP. They could order bottle service and topless women who were not named strippers, but ‘catered servers. Surrounding the dance floor were at least forty assorted chairs and couches so that those who were slick with sweat and hurting feet could take a rest. There was a small balcony that surrounded the top of the room, where the mechanics and engineers could get to incase of a break in the lights or sound system, but other than that, it was a pretty open room.

To the locals waiting outside, this was the only floor of Lacuna opened to guests. They were wrong. Those wishing to drop down to the second level had to pay a fee of ten grand. Only the richest of the rich, and friends of Taeyong and Jaehyun could get down to this floor. Lucky for you, you wouldn’t be exploring it tonight, but from what you heard, it would be… unfavorable should it ever get leaked to the public. With naked girls and private rooms, prostitution was only one of the ways Taeyong made his dirty money.

The last and final level was where Taeyong and Jaehyun conducted business. From what Jaehyun described, it was a plain, one room, sitting area. With black leather couches sitting opposite of each other and red walls, a small liquor cart to the side, and soundproofed walls, it was a haven in the midst of chaos. No one went in there but Taeyong and Jaehyun, and that was only on rare occasions. You would never be invited there, that was a given.

The only floor you’d have the pleasure of visiting tonight was the first one, and you had no problem with that. Unfortunately, your focus has been skewed from its original mission since your ex decided to make an unannounced rescue.

His arm is still around you as you make your way through the open hallway.

“What are you doing here.” His niceness, a façade for the guards, is dropped.

“I’m here to have a good time of course.”

His lips were only inches from your ear while you walk down the steps and onto the main floor, “You could have gone to a thousand other clubs, why Lacuna?”

When you try to turn towards the bar he pulls you in the opposite direction, leading you to the elevated VIP section. NO! You had to go to the bar and find Taeyong, but the grip on your arm was too tight for you to pull away. In truth, you could have pulled a knife on him, but this was Taeyongs guys, and your ex. You’d have to play it cool.

He pulls out a small ID card and flashes it to the bouncers guarding the steps, not stopping his stride.

The black leather is sticky against your skin when you sit down. It was slightly uncomfortable, and it didn’t help that you had to move every couple of seconds to keep you dress from riding up.

You roll your eyes, “It’s the biggest club in Seoul.”

The answer apparently didn’t satisfy him as you could just barely make out the click of his tongue over the thumping bass, “Okay so why are you here? You know this is where I do business.”

“God Jaem, why does it matter.”

“Don’t call me that anymore,” He yanks his hand back, “You lost the right to call me that when you broke my heart y/n.”

“Are you still upset? I told you – “You turn to lecture him about how that was years ago, but all of a sudden a smirk makes its way on his face.

This was the first time you actually got to look at him tonight. His tan skin and pearly white teeth were sure to drive the lady’s crazy, but what really took the cake was the one dangly earring hung low off his left earlobe. He was dressed in a white button up, the top three buttons undone, and bright red dress pants, with… were those Louis Vuitton dress shoes?

Way to level up on the fit game Jaemin.

“Nah, I’m just busting your balls.” He grabs his belly in a laugh that sent his earring reeling, “You should have seen your face.” He settles back against the couch and locks eyes with you. The red and purple lights cast shadows on his sharp face.

“For real though, why are you here? I haven’t seen you in forever!” his natural charm was making its way towards you like a poison that could cloud your mind. It was always his best asset. “You look great by the way, and I don’t mean that in an ex-boyfriend ‘I want you back’ kinda way.” His drifting eyes make their way over your body, up and down in an attempt to once over you, but when his gaze landed on the skin of your upper thighs, the once over became a more-than-once over.

“I’m actually here to talk to Taeyong. I’ve been drifting in and out of the business, doing assignments here and there,” You have to raise your voice slightly for him to hear you over the loud techno song playing, “but I really want something more solid now. Something permanent.”

It was so, so satisfying to see his eyes go wide at the mention of his boss, “Why Taeyong?”

You shrug your shoulders, “I heard that he was good to his people.”

“Heard this where? From whom, may I ask?” He pulls out a box of Altoids from his pocket and gestures towards you, but you wave him off.

Him and his fucking mints.

A half-naked server interrupts your conversation, carrying two fruity looking cocktails in her hands. “So sorry to bother you Mr.Na, but these are from the gentlemen at the bar.” She places both of the cold drinks on the small table in front of you, “He said to send your friend over when the two of you are done exchanging conversation.”

She stands there for a moment until Jaemin reaches one hand into the pocket of his slacks and pulls out a crisp roll of hundred-dollar bills, handing her at least five, “Very well then. Thank you for the relaying the message Celeste.” He hands her a couple more bills, “I’ll be looking forward to my private dance later.”

“Of course, Jaemin. I’ll be in room four as always.” They exchange a wink, and she walks off, ass swaying back to the bar.

Your insides freeze when you realize who she was walking towards. Bright pink hair falling into his eyes, a diamond bracelet dangling from the small of his wrist, a matching necklace to go with it. One hand wrapped around the base of a scotch glass filled with the dark amber liquid that fell from his mouth and landed on the dark green material of his suit. You watch him pick up a napkin and dab at the stain, and you could tell he knew you were looking at him. He was purposefully averting eye contact.

He knew you were here, but that didn’t shock you as much as it should have. He had eyes and security crawling all over this place, he probably knew the minute you got out of the car, the exact second you stepped foot on the sidewalk. What took you by surprise was the fact that he thought he knew who you were.

We’ll see about that.

You shift your attention back to Jaemin and answer his question, “I just heard about him while I was completing a job once. I don’t remember the guy or his face, just that he talked very highly of Taeyong.”

Jaemin stuffs the roll of hundreds back into his pocket alongside the box of Altoids, “And how did you know he was going to be here tonight?”

“Looks like he knew I was going to be here first.” The hundreds of people dancing on the multicolored floor were lost in the world of smoke, alcohol and sweat. You wonder how they could be so oblivious to what went on in the same exact building they were losing consciousness in, “Come on Jaemin, you know how I know. It’s all part of the job.”

“To be honest Y/N, after our breakup, I didn’t think you’d be in the business anymore. I thought you’d finally move on since you had such a problem with what I did for a living…” he wipes his sweaty hands on the thighs of his pants.

“You taught me everything I know Na Jaemin. I couldn’t move on from that,” It was such a lie, you almost started laughing in his face. It was Jung Jaehyun who had taught you everything you knew. Carefully crafted and molded you into the person you were, the killer you were. “Plus, I needed a way to make cash fast since it was just me and Chenle.”

The corner of his eyes crinkle in a smile, “How is he doing?”

“I haven’t seen him in months.” Another lie.

Was it really so farfetched of a lie though? Chenle skipped meals, stayed in his room during the day and went out every night. It was as if he had been missing for months. It was only because he knew your departure from the group would be soon, and you knew that he was trying to separate himself from you to save his emotions. Just like in the car, he was prematurely mourning you.

His smile drops immediately, and his gaze shifts to the side, “Y/N, I’m sorry…”

“Really, no need for that Jaemin. I’m sure he’s fine.” You knew he was fine. He was probably at home playing racing games with Winwin, if not out on an assignment for Jaehyun. Actually, what was the date? The seventh? Ten would be flying in soon. They were probably headed to the airport to pick him up.

“I’m sure he is too,” He pats your knee, trying to comfort you, but all he manages to do is smear his sweat onto you.

Gross

“But I must ask how me and my team haven’t heard of you? We cover all the way to the border. How come your name hasn’t been brought up before?”

There it is. The number one question of the evening. The question that you and Jaehyun have had to prepare for and set up months, even a year in advance.

You grab the drink that was beginning to melt and slyly drop a small tab that Renjun had given to you, into it. If it were drugged, the tab would turn bright green and fizz up, if not, it would simply dissolve. Unfortunately for you, Jaemin knew your tricks and saw.

“You really think Taeyong would drug you?” He takes the drink out of your hand and takes a sip, pausing for a moment and then shooting a condescending glare that said, ‘see, told you so.’

“A person can never be too careful,” You snatch the drink back from him and gulp it, “but to answer your question, use a fake name and lie to old, filthy rich men and there’s nothing you can’t get away with.”

“I’ll believe it.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Taeyong shift in his seat. His eyes scan the crowd almost hungrily until they land on you. He offers a sweet smile, but you don’t return it. Just looking him in the eyes gives you chills. Jaehyun always told you he was a cold and ruthless business partner who’d make anybody that was a threat to him, and his business disappear out of thin air, but looking at him right now, with his pink hair and skinny body… where was the threat? You knew you shouldn’t underestimate one of the top leaders in this kind of business, but, really, where was the threat?

Your eyes flit back to Jaemin’s, willingly giving him more information that would help elaborate on your cover story, “Have you heard of Kora Gene?”

“Yeah, she’s one of the best assassins in the country,” He slides over closer to you, hips almost pressed together, so a girl, who you saw eyeing him the entire time, could sit down and pretend to be on her phone, “Do you know her?”

You’d be lying if you said the close contact didn’t make your heart skip a beat. Not in a romantic way. You just haven’t been this close to him in so long, it felt weird.

“That’s my business persona. I am her” You watch Taeyong chuckle into his glass as if he could hear you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Jaemin was mic’d up right now.

“No shit.” His eyes go wide, mouth dropping to form a shocked ‘O’, “Me and my team were planning to go looking for you to try and recruit you.”

The song playing stops for a brief moment, enveloping the club in sounds of shuffling feet, glasses clinking, and girls squealing, and begins playing one of your favorite songs.

DJs got taste.

“And here I am trying to get recruited. I guess things work out when they’re meant to be.” You were getting restless, and you could tell Jaemin was too. He probably wanted to go to room four so he could receive his ‘private dance’ from Celeste. In fact, you knew he wanted to go because he starts fiddling his fingers together, he was itching to run his hands over her skin while she shook her ass for him, and ground down all against him so that he was begging her like he did for you, and then when he finally -

Whoa. Stop thinking y/n

Your cheeks are hot when he speaks up, “I guess I should let you go talk to Taeyong cause every couple seconds he looks over here and I’m pretty sure that’s his third glass of scotch.”

A breathy laugh slips past your lips, “It was nice catching up with you Jaemin.”

Your hand is thrust out in a small attempt at a handshake, but Jaemin turns it down. “So formal,” he laughs and shakes his head, “well then good luck, I’ll stop him if he tries to put a bullet in your brain.”

“I’d gladly appreciate that.” At least he still had your back. Unless he didn’t really mean it. Would he let Taeyong kill you?

Short answer: no.

Long answer: there was no way that would even become a situation, because after hours upon hours of studying the man you were about to sitting in front of and talking to, you knew he didn’t get his hands dirty. That’s why he recruited other men, to do his work for him.

What’s the point in underlings if you have to do everything yourself? What’s the point of being the boss, the leader, the shot caller.

As soon as you stand up to leave, a drunk couple immediately claims your spot on the couch, furiously making out. You look at Jaemin one last time and see him wiggling his eyebrows. With a roll of your eyes, you walk down the steps and make your way to the bar.

This was nerve wracking, and you can’t help twisting the ring around your finger that Jaehyun had given you. God, you wished you were home and lying next to him in bed. Instead, you were pushing past young men whose hands were grabbing and tugging on your waist. One kid goes as far as wrapping his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest.

“Fuck off.” You curse. He shoves you away and continues dancing with another girl who had fallen victim to his clutch.

If Jaehyun were here to witness that, the kid would have had his head blown off. No. Jaehyun would have had Ten torture him and Winwin drop him somewhere in the Han River after burning his entire body to a crisp.

No trace, no crime.

Taeyong should surely know that quote, after all, he came up with it.

Finally pushing through the thick of the crowd, you were only a couple strides away from him. He was fully facing the bar now and the stool next to him was empty, calling you forward to take a seat and sell your soul to the devil.

The bartender, sporting a name tag with Alice written on it, has leant over the counter to talk to him. Her boobs were practically spilling out of her shirt.

You catch the tail end of their conversation when you walk up, “… be my pleasure sir.” She makes eye contact with you when she leans in to whisper in his ear, “I promise I’ll be a very good girl.”

You hear his clear his throat, his voice breaking a bit, and it takes everything in you not to laugh.

“Good evening Mr. Lee” You slide in next to him, and adjust yourself, leaning one arm on the counter and turning your body to fully face his.

His side profile bares a charming grin without looking at you, “Really, Y/N, no need for the formalities,” he swivels his chair so he’s facing your way, “It isn’t necessary for this… exchange.”

You were shocked but not surprised that he knew your name, “So Jaemin was mic’d up.”

The grin falls flat, “You knew?”

“I’d like to say that I’m very aware of my surroundings.” A feeling of accomplishment washes over you at stunning the so-called leader in front of you.

“And I’d say that you’re just a good guesser.” He dips one of his fingers in his drink and swirls it around the glass.

“Maybe.”

“What were you talking about?” Taking his finger out of the scotch glass, he brings it to his lips and sucks off the excess liquid.

Isn’t that what girls did to get the attention of a man?

“You were eavesdropping on our conversation long enough to catch my name,” You were entering dangerous territory by speaking to him this way, but hopefully he took it as light banter, “Shouldn’t you know what we were talking about?”

“I wasn’t, I promise,” He chuckles, “The mics we use aren’t communication devices. They record everything and send it back to our database so that if one of us end up missing, we have a recording of everything that went down.”

That was actually pretty smart. Jaehyun would have never thought about that.

Even then, it still begged the question, “Then how do you know my name?”

“You’re his ex, right?” He gestured towards where you and Jaemin had been sitting. With a quick glance you realize he wasn’t there anyone.

Probable with Celeste.

“Yeah, but I don’t understand, we broke up before he joined your group?” A booming thump comes from the speaker as one of the top KRNB songs comes on. The crowd screams in unison which jars you a bit but locking eyes with Taeyong and it’s as if you were the only two in the club.

“We needed a list of all the potential enemies he could have, and you were one of them.” his eyes wash over your body, “Besides, it’s hard to forget a face like yours.”

Completely ignoring his looks, you were taken aback, “An enemy? Me?”

Does this mean they were watching you after the breakup? They must have had eyes on you. He said that no one forgot a face like yours. That means he’s seen you before. Did he know that you were with Jaehyun? Or did they only keep tabs on you for a couple months before determining that you were no threat to their operations?

He just shrugs his shoulders, “So what were you talking about?”

“You, actually.” A glass full of a bright blue liquid is slid in front of you.

“Ah, was I really the topic of conversation? I’m blushing y/n” he picks up his glass and downs the remaining scotch without expression when a similar drink is slid in front of him.

You know that burns Taeyong.

“Not to burst your bubble but it wasn’t directly you, but rather Neo Culture.”

He flicks an eyebrow up waiting for you to continue.

“I think I could be valuable to your team.” You shift in your seat, “There aren’t many women in this industry, and none as good as me. I’m sure you’ve heard of Kora Gene.”

“Yes, she’s been mentioned a few times to me.” He pauses for a moment, “let me guess, that’s you?

A smile creeps on your face, “yeah it is.”

“Alright then let’s cut to the chase. I know who you are, and you obviously know who I am. What are you here for? Money? Protection?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest and look at you with tired eyes.

You scoff at his audacity, “I make more money than I need, and it’s funny that you think I need protection. I’ve earned my place in this field of work, I deserve the name I made for myself, I’m simply tired of working alone and your team could fix that.”

He’s done more business deals than you could imagine. Your pitch to him was just that, a pitch, and if he didn’t accept then you would probably be killed. He knew you knew too much about him.

“Me and my so called ‘team’ as you say, aren’t just that. Yes, we handle business together, but we’re a family. That’s what you’re looking for?" You can tell that you’ve piqued his interest. He’s never had a female work for him. There were so many ways he could use you with his line of work.

“Something like that.” You lift your drink to your lips and sip slowly, making sure to look him in his eyes.

There were so many ways he could use you.

He straightens up in his seat and adjusts the bracelet on his wrist, “I trust you’re not mic’d and waiting to ambush me and my family y/n?

You put the drink down and lick your lips, “Do you want to check for yourself?” your hands slide up the bodice of your dress, and you part your legs.

His adams apple bobs up and down when he gulps, “I would rather not, but I think it’s best that before we get any further into tonight you know who’s on my, ‘team’” He puts air quotes around the word,” Of course, you’ll meet them formally tomorrow if you do end up passing my sort of… initiation of trust tonight.”

He turns his chair and points to the corner of the dance floor, “That one in the striped button down, the black and pink one, is Haechan.”

The blonde kid was having a hard time catching the ass that was being thrown back against him, but nevertheless he had his tongue stuck between his teeth in concentration. He was an alright looking kid, surprisingly young looking to be in this sort of life, but then again, you weren’t that old yourself.

“He looks like he’s having fun.” You snort, folding your arms across your chest. This was the time to drink in all the information to report back to Jaehyun. All you needed were their secrets.

Easy Peasy.

“Yes, tonight wasn’t supposed to be work related,” Taeyong says, a smirk fighting its way onto his face, “he’s definitely having fun.”

You can feel the eyes watching you then, pouring their iciness into your soul, and when you skirt his eyes, you find it hard to catch your breath. “What about the one that’s staring bullet holes in me.”

A boy who looked older than Haechan was looking intently at you and Taeyong from across the dance floor. His head was high, narrowed eyes peering down the bridge of his nose. The leather jacket perched on his broad shoulders had to be filled with guns, no doubt. He had one tucked into the back of his waist band, you knew that from the way he stood – only his shoulders touching the walls to not set any of them off. If you hadn’t done extensive of research, you might have been taken aback, but you knew his intense demeanor was all an act. That didn’t mean you could be careless though. His trust was going to be the hardest to get.

“That would be Jeno,” Taeyong nods his head in his direction, and only then does Jeno take his eyes off you, “I’ll have to talk to him before we leave so that he knows your off limits for tonight.” He grabs his drink and swallows the rest of it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. This time he grimaces but you were almost sure it was at the prospect of talking his wannabe guard dog down and not the burning alcohol sliding down his throat.

He had definitely piqued your interest with his terminology, “Off limits?”

Looking up from his lashes, Taeyong’s eyes gleam in pride, “He tends to be a little on edge when it comes to outsiders interacting with me. It’s nothing more than that.”

So Jeno is the one that watches Taeyong’s every move, ready to kill in an instant for his leader. His family, as Taeyong put it.

His eyes move from yours as he scans the club looking for one more person, the one you were excited to meet the most.

“Ah there he is, the one walking out of the bathroom is Yuta.” A tall man with long hair walks by, one arm tugging a girl behind him. Her hair was mussed up, dress haphazardly slipping off her shoulder. When she passes, you can see that her zipper was broken, and she was holding it together with her free hand. Yuta looks at you for a split second and then turns back to the girl behind him, obviously occupied. “And you’ve already met Jaemin.”

“I’ve known Jaemin for a long time.” You smile wryly.

Taeyong holds a finger up as if remembering something, “You won’t meet Mark tonight, but no worries, if you’re still alive by Monday, you’ll have a pleasant time meeting him.”

His abruptness takes you aback, slumping your shoulders and pushing you back in your seat, almost like a physical hand. You gulp air down, hoping that it isn’t evident on your face just how scared you were.

You should be scared anyway. You knew that if they killed you Jaehyun would start and all out-gang war.

He saw that worry on your face, and at a weak attempt at consoling you, he says, “This is business y/n, it hasn’t become personal yet.”

“Of course.” You understood how the business works.

“Excuse me while I go talk to Jeno about this, enjoy a drink on me?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls a roll of hundreds just like Jaemin had. He takes a few and slips them onto the counter before stepping away to slip between dancing couples to talk about your fate with Jeno.

———————

You don’t know how long you sat there, aimlessly pretending to sip drinks to provide the illusion that you were doing exactly what Taeyong had said without getting drunk.

Maybe that was his intentions. Get you drunk enough to where you were pliable under his command. Whatever the case may be, you weren’t that stupid.

When he had walked away, your eyes never left him. He had sat down next to Jeno, whose eyes were still staring daggers into your own, and only did they break when Taeyong put a hand on the youngers shoulder.

An uneasy feeling had unfolded in your stomach when looking him in the eye. He had the stare of a killer, but then again, didn’t they all?

Taeyong had sat there for a few before dragging Jeno away, up the stairs and to what you could only assume was the outside of the club. If you hadn’t of known better, you would have thought they had abandoned you, but Haechan was still grinding away on the dancefloor, and so you knew they were only conversing – maybe sharing a cigarette.

You were itching to call Jaehyun right now and tell him everything. Spill every last drop of information you had gathered, but when you really thought about it, you had nothing yet. Nothing of worth, at least, and so you sat. And you sipped drinks aimlessly, eyes scanning the club for the other members scattered throughout, and hands playing with the hundred-dollar bills Taeyong had laid on the counter.

It was funny how frivolous they seemed to be with their money. As if they didn’t have a care in the world. Really though, who carried around a roll of hundreds in their pocket, no matter if you were strapped or not? Odd. Really odd.

Jaehyun had never done that.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you flinch. You don’t turn around. You knew they’d come to you. And just as you had that thought a pair of lips find their way to your ear.

“Come outside.” He yells over the blaring music.

His hand moves from your shoulder, all the way down your arm and settles in the palm of your hand, helping you up from the stool.

The uneasy feeling in your stomach disappears as you realize its Jaemin, hair slightly disheveled and top holding on by one button. His glittering smile sends your heart slamming in your chest, but you brush it off as being the bit of alcohol you had consumed.

He must’ve had a good time with Celeste if he was looking like that.

You follow him willingly, through the throngs of people dancing and up the stairs, down the hallway in which you had come early and finally out into the hot evening air.

There was still a significant amount of people in line, though not as many as before; those probably filtering off after realizing they were never going to get into Lacuna.

Across from the entrance was a Mercedes van and from your spot halfway in the club’s entrance, you can see bright pink hair in the driver’s seat.

A van.

They brought a van to a club.

“So, none of you were planning on bringing bitches home, hm?” You joke halfheartedly, and Jaemin chuckles.

He tugs on your hand, bringing you closer to the vehicle, “Yong prefers us not to bring anyone back when we have assignments the next day.”

Interesting.

Work and play are separate, but there are still boundaries. Efficient. You liked it.

Jaemin climbs in before you, heading to the last row of three, and takes a seat. You follow suit, one hand holding your dress so that nobody in line got a free show.

No one else was in the car. Just you and Taeyong and Jaemin, and somehow, you liked it that way.

“Close the door.” Taeyong mumbles, shifting the van into drive and pulling away from the curb, barely giving you time to register what he asked.

You fumbled for the handle and pulled it closed. “What about the others.”

Jaemin smiles, “They drove separate.”

“They’ll meet us there.”

Taeyong closes off the sentence, leaving no more room for questions, and only room for you to wonder where this ominous ‘there’ was.

Were you going to their house? Base? Whatever they called it. Jaehyun had called his the ‘Jung Estate’, but you had just called it home.

Was he taking you to some kind of test? Were you going to have to get your hands dirty tonight? You wanted to prove yourself, lord knows it was the only reason you were here right now, but did you really want to get your hands bloody? Clean up a murder?

Maybe they were taking you to get dinner? It wasn’t as late as you had thought, with one glance to the dashboard it was only brushing midnight.

You decided to calm your mind, and sit back, head resting against the headrest, face turned towards the large side windows. The town was a blur, lights and people and sounds melding into one long streak.

No one spoke for the whole ride. Not until Taeyong slowed the car to a stop and rolled down the window to talk to a security guard.

“Only be a minute.”

“Yuta came through already.”

“Yes, Jaemin and a Guest.”

“I see…”

You look around and see a bright orange glowing sign that read ‘Private Parking’. You were at a parking garage? On the west end of the city, nonetheless. Thoughts were moving through your head at a million miles an hour. Was he going to have you jump? Shoot someone off the top? See how long your range was?

“Be careful”

“Always am Taem” And with that he’s driving, up and around and straight and up and around and straight – passing the levels like they were nothing. Up and Up and Up until your free of the stuffy garage and at the top – the roof, overlooking the west end of Seoul.

Ahead of you were three cars lined up. An orange Lamborghini, a yellow Ferrari, and an Audi A6 – expensive taste, but good quality cars.

Sitting on the hood were the owners. It took everything in you to stop the reappearance of your earlier drinks, not wanting to paint the Mercedes interior a bright blue.

Taeyong brings the van to a stop in front of the three cars and gets out, opening the sliding door for you and Jaemin.

“Let’s go.”

Hesitantly, you climb out, the air hot on your exposed skin. The orangish glow of streetlamps light the cracked concrete as you walk over to where the others were.

Jeno, his ink black hair blowing in the brisk wind was leaning against the matching Audi. He favored speed, how… fitting.

Haechan, drunk and stumbling, wasn’t attached to any particular car, but rather held up by Yuta, whose hand was twisted harshly into the fabric of his button up.

“Oh, come on,” Jaemin groans from behind you, “did you let this drunk fool drive my car.” You can hear the cringe in his voice.

Yuta grits his teeth, “Well, I didn’t really have an option did I Jaemin? I can’t drive both.”

“Don’t worry Jaem, I wasn’t going to crash it. Jeno would kill me if I crashed it.” Haechan was slurring his words, making it almost impossible to hear him. You were surprised he was still standing.

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair, “Shit, I’ll drive it back.”

“Quiet.” Taeyong all but whispers, “We have some business to take care of.”

Your eyes lock onto the back of his suit and watch him walk between you and the other three guys.

Jeno’s eyes never leave you, but Yuta casts one uninterested glance your way and is dragged back to keeping Haechan from taking a nosedive off the side of the building.

You would have laughed if it were any different scenario.

“This is Y/N, formerly known as Kora Gene, –” Yutas eyes snap up in your direction, attention grabbed. “ She wants to partner with us. Become one of us. Live with us, dine with us, do jobs like us.”

Taeyong isn’t looking at anyone when he speaks, only the ground, yet he was smiling bitterly.

“You all know the initiation test she has to pass.” He lifts his head up to look at you, “I’m going to give you a single order. If you can complete it, you’re in. If you can’t, well” He chuckles, hand going to back of his waistband.

He draws out a sleek nine mm Glock and takes off the safety, gliding the barrel right between your eyebrows.

You don’t flinch. You don’t even move. You do shiver.

It’s been a minute since you’d had a gun pressed up against you.

“I guess we’ll have to kill you.”

You hear someone behind him chuckle, and you guess it’s Jeno. The only one sadistic enough to find amusement in the prospect of blowing your brains out.

Taeyong pulls the gun back and offers it to you, handle first, and you take it from him.

This wasn’t the first time you had held a gun, nor the second or the third. You’ve shot a gun, in fact, you were good at it, great, even. You could have taken Jeno in a shooting match right then and there and probably would have won, but this wasn’t the time for competitions.

“Yuta.” Taeyong says softly.

The man comes to stand next to him, dragging Haechan behind him.

“Woah!” Haechan yelps as Yuta grabs both of his arms and locks them behind his back. He kicks the back of his legs out from under him, forcing the younger boy to fall on his knees.

“Hands behind your head Hyuck.” Yuta steps off to the side leaving the kid on his own.

Hyuck? That must be a nickname.

The younger boys’ eyes were wide, from both alcohol and adrenaline you were sure, “What’s going on Yong?”

His question was ignored as Taeyong was looking at you pointedly.

“Ready for your task?”

His voice is calm, smooth, unnaturally so as you had a loaded weapon in your hands.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak, because surely your task couldn’t be what you thought it was, right? Surely Taeyong wouldn’t ask you to –

“Shoot him.”

-------

TAGLIST : @peachjaem00

#.sam #vice #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun smut #taeyong #yuta #chenle #renjun #jeno #jaemin #nct mafia #nct mafia au #nct imagine

1K notes · View notes

alycosworld · 3 years

Text

Tainted

Scaramouche X Reader

WARNING: mentions of (nearly) sexual assault

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A/N: I seem to have more angst/comfort ideas for genshin but I'm not sure why...also, I'm on holiday in a foreign country! I have no work and I'll probably spend all my nights on Tumblr after exploring the city in the day, so please please please send in some requests! I'm bored and although they might take some time, they might help me get back into writing more regularly. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but if I made a mistake, feel free to tell me. This has NOT been checked for any errors (I'll get around to it at some point).

I'm not sure if Scaramouche is ooc, since he doesn't say anything that nice in the game or in any official works, but I definitely think he has the capacity for it. And I like soft Scar <3.

If at any point you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ ON. I felt a little icky after writing the assault bit so do not force yourself to read any further or read at all. I do not want to make anyone reading this unhappy. Any victims of sexual assault or harassment, I hope you heal

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Keep walking. Just keep walking. Get home as fast as possible.

Avoid dark spots, avoid all people, avoid secluded areas. Just get home now.

That's what you told yourself after it happened. Archons, you didn't even know how you should feel. Ashamed? Angry? Disgusted? Upset? Confused? Afraid? The amalgamation of these emotions just made everything worse. You felt sick to your stomach. You wanted to cry and scream and vomit and disappear all at the same time.

You felt like you were covered in grime and you don't even know how you managed to get away. You should've done something, anything! But in the moment, you couldn't.

Your day had started normally. You went to the Adventurer's Guild in Inazuma, doing your commissions and taking up a few extra quests to help people out. Even though you were walking home later than normal, you didn't think much of it. Until somehow, you lost your way. In the dark, things became a little more vague and confusing, so you ended up taking a left and ending up in a dark alleyway between two dimly lit buildings.

You walked through, lost in your own thoughts, until you heard some chuckling and some incoherent remarks made by someone exiting one of the buildings out a back door and into the alleyway.

Glancing up, you saw that the person was a man - quite tall and well built with flushed cheeks: he was clearly not sober. You paid him no mind, staring at the ground as you continue to walk, determined to get home to see your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Though he wasn't one to worry, knowing that you could handle yourself, you did want to see him as soon as possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man asked, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head in confusion but staying silent.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" He asked, a suspicious smirk on his face.

"I'm going home." You said firmly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

"Oh? A handsome young thing like you, going home all by themselves? Let me walk you, I promise I don't bite." He continued, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the off--"

"Stop being such a fucking tease! Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it." He pinned you against the wall despite your attempt to politely refuse any moves he tried to make. He caught your arms above your head and harshly shoved one of his legs between yours.

"Don't like to me, hon, you know you want this." He whispered huskily. You had fought countless hilichurls, abyss mages and monsters far more intimidating and dangerous than that man that day, but you couldn't seem to move. All you could manage was a fearful 'please, don't do this'. Struggling was futile, for some reason you couldn't escape his grasp. You had fought beasts ten times this man's size but violating you like this? It made you break.

He gripped you harshly and even managed to kiss your neck a couple times, making the tears stream down your face uncontrollably, until he heard some voices. You recognised them immediately: members of the Adventurer's Guild. He must be known it too because he stopped as soon as he heard, offering you a sickening grin and scuttling away before you could react.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

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You didn't get any help from the Adventurer's Guild members who you heard, instead opting to rush home as soon as possible, trying to figure out what to do next.

The only solution in your mind was to crawl into your lover's arms and tell him what had happened. You didn't want anyone else to know - you know you could trust Scaramouche and you knew he would help you.

But he didn't.

You got home and wiped your tears before entering the house, hoping to look somewhat presentable despite having experienced such an impactful event. You dropped your belongings carelessly, not flinging at the loud sound they made as they hit the floor. You immediately made your way to the guest room Scaramouche had turned into an office of sorts, for him to work on Fatui business. The bedroom door was open and empty and he was nowhere to be found on the first floor, so that was the only other place he could've been. You were relieved to see him sitting at the desk, deep in thought with some maps and other sheets of paper laid out in front of him.

"Scar, I--"

"Not now, (Y/N), I'm busy." He said hot even bothering to look up at your frazzled and shattered state.

"I know but, please, Scar. While I was--"

"If you know that I'm busy, why enter in the first place? I'm working. Leave me alone." He said harshly. You didn't say anything, instead opting to nod silently and close the door. Since this was the first time you had experienced this pain and discomfort from being touched and defiled in such a way, you decided that maybe you should put it aside. After all, maybe it was something so jarring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Scaramouche's nonchalance was justified. In a twisted way, you blamed yourself for overreacting and decided to just forget about the incident. If it didn't mean enough for Scaramouche to even look at you, it clearly wasn't something worth fretting over. You were just exaggerating, right?

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You tried you absolute hardest not to let the incident bother you, but you unknowingly started changing your habits to prevent what had occurred from happening to you again.

"Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it..."

You started wearing less revealing clothing, going as far as wearing gloves at some point and covering your neck with collars and scarves through the hot weather.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

Initially, you just avoided dark or secluded places, even when you were with other people, but eventually, you were too scared to leave home at all. You didn't leave the confines of your small garden and if someone passed by, you would quickly hide yourself away. When Scaramouche had unknown guests and colleagues over, you would hide in your bedroom and make him promise not to mention you or acknowledge your existence in the slightest.

You even started taking longer showers and refused to bathe with Scaramouche, confusing him since you used to enjoy it so much. But you wouldn't let him see you in such a vulnerable state now that you were contaminated. You didn't want him to know that you had been tarnished in such a vulgar way, and you spent long moments scrubbing at the parts the stranger had touched. You were worried that Scaramouche would blame you for being assaulted - because in a sick way you thought it was your fault, despite having been nothing wrong. You had twisted the story in your mind to make it seem like you were responsible for the crime committed against you.

Eventually, Childe had to visit for business purposes, but you had become good friends with the eleventh Fatui Harbinger since he was friends with-- well, he and Scaramouche had a relationship, to say the least.

"So where's (Y/N)? Normally they're all over you and making you as embarrassed at possible." Childs grinned, and Scaramouche just frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"They're in our room. They don't really want to see anyone right now." Scaramouche said. Even though you told him not to mention you anymore, since you were so hellbent on avoiding all human interaction, he thought it would be okay to tell Childe. He was your friend too, after all.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Childe asked, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know. They've been avoiding everyone, including me. They barely talk to me and insist on sleeping downstairs." Scaramouche confessed.

"Let me talk to them."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Childe exited your room after hearing what to had to say, and he was disturbed and sympathetic, at the very least. Scaramouche saw his wide-eyed, grim expression when he exited the room and immediately had questions.

"What?" Scaramouche asked.

"I'll come back tomorrow to continue our work." Childs said, referring to the business he originally came for.

"But we have to--"

"Scar?" Scaramouche stopped all his trains of thought and turned to the sound of your voice. It was hoarse but still as beautiful as ever. He knew you had been crying from your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you have other matters to take care of." Childe winked, before giving Scaramouche an informal two-fingered salute and showing himself out.

As soon as the door closed, Scaramouche turned his attention to you, not coming too close in case you didn't want to be near him.

"Yes, Love?" He asked, more concerned than you had ever seen him.

"Can I talk to you? If you're busy, that's okay, it's not that impor--"

"I'm not busy." He shook his head, and you offered him a sad and grateful smile before sitting on the edge of the bed while he took a seat on a nearby chair.

"So, uhm, a couple of days ago I was walking home and I kind of got lost...so I tried taking this alleyway and--" You stopped yourself, meeting Scaramouche's attentive gaze before continuing.

"There was a guy. And he-- he t-touched me. I-- I didn't know what to do. I could've easily fought back but I just got scared and froze up because that's never happened to me before and he kept saying that I wanted him-- but I didn't! I swear, I didn't. I know it sounds bad since I didn't stop him but I really tried, I just couldn't. And he started k-kissing me...here," You gestured to the spots on your neck that you could still feel being violated.

"And I felt so horrible and he didn't go any further because some people were coming, so I ran home. I-I...I didn't know what to do but I felt like I should tell you because I thought you would help me, but you said you were busy so I just-- It-tried to brush it off but I just couldn't get it out of my head! And before I got away, he told me that he'd come back and finish me off and so I didn't want to go outside anymore in case I ran into him. And I started to cover up since he said I was asking for it because of what I was wearing and then I just got scared and I felt dirty. I tried so hard to forget and clean myself but it kept coming back-- I can still feel him on me! I hated it, I still hated it! You have to believe me, I wasn't trying to get him to notice me, I just..." You broke down after finishing what you had to say. You had already been crying since you told Childe, but now you were choking out sobs and your face was drenched. Scaramouche stood up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed, a safe distance away just in case you still weren't comfortable with being touched.

"I believe you. I know you're not like that." Scarsmocuhe started calmly. In all honesty, he wanted to interrupt you as soon as you said that this man approached you. His blood was boiling and he was ready to murder this man for you but kept himself in check because you didn't need senseless violence or revenge right now, you needed comfort. What hurt him the most was that you were blaming yourself because he didn't bother listening to what you had to say on what was probably the worst day of your life.

"It's not your fault you were touched like that. You are not to blame, at all. I-- I should've listened to you when you came to me - as soon as I turned you say I thought something was wrong but I didn't bother asking about it. That's entirely my fault." He admitted, which surprised you. It took Scaramouche a lot to admit his mistakes, but for you? He didn't care. You constantly put up with his sour attitude, he can definitely listen to you and admit he was wrong.

"You sure? Because I still--"

"I'm sure." He said simply.

"But why did you start avoiding me?" He asked, wanting to understand the situation entirely.

"Well, because..." You started, unsure if he would get angry if you told him. While you were contemplating, he offered you an encouraging expression. It wasn't a smile, but it was more than enough to put you at ease.

"I didn't want you to think I was tainted. Of course, you wouldn't want to be near me after that had happened." You sighed, wiping up the last of your tears.

"You really are an idiot, you know?" He said, but after seeing the clueless and almost hurt look on your face, he immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't mean to be insensitive, he just...well, he often explained positive emotions with his very wide negative vocabulary.

"No, I didn't-- uhm..." He mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but you didn't interrupt him and made a small gesture for him to keep going.

"What I mean to say was, I don't think that you're tainted or anything like that. And I still...want to be...near you-- eugh!" He pretended to be grossed out at his own words in true Scaramouche fashion, but he knew you knew he didn't really mean it and was beyond delighted when he saw you giggle at his facial expression.

He sighed and acted angry as he opened his arms ever so slightly. You noticed the movement and quirked an eyebrow when he hesitated.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Scaramouche asked, unsure if you wanted to be touched after the incident.

Your heart swelled at his care and then you slowly watched as he stiffly wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. Although you had hugged and cuddled on countless occasions, he still wouldn't stop being so robotic unless you did something. It made you laugh and he pulled away slightly to glare at you, so you decided to just pull him back in and hug back.

And when you relished in the touch of another human being, the touch of the person you love, you began to cry. The last time anyone willingly touched you was in that alleyway, and so to have someone be so gentle with you and have no bad intentions, you were overwhelmed with emotion.

Scaramouche must've felt your tears staining his clothing and skin, and quickly pulled away with poorly hidden concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but you just continued to sob and nod.

"I love you!" You choked out. He sighed and gently patted your back.

"I...love you too." He said, before making another expression of mock disgust. He slowly moved to hold both your wrists in his hand and kiss down to your neck, pulling you into his lap with your legs straddling one of his.

You soon realised that he was covering up the placed the stranger had touched you with his own ministrations, effectively replacing the grime you felt you gained after the incident. After you came to that conclusion and Scaramouche was done, he didn't meet your eye, blushing profusely. It was justified since he didn't usually initiate any kind of affection acts, but you just cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, smiiling at him with purity and a newfound confidence in the both of you.

"Thank you, Scar."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact fatui #fatui x reader #fatui #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #angst #angst with a happy ending #comfort #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche oneshots #gender neutral reader #x reader

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Chaser at Heart | J.P

Paring: James Potter X Fem!Reader

Summary: Without realizing it James Potter has always been a Chaser regardless of his Quidditch position.

Everybody wondered where James Potter got his snitch that he played with. Rumors had been created, but only James and Y/n knew the real truth. The most common story was that James and his Marauders nicked it from a supply closet. The honest question was, why did James play with a snitch when he was a Chaser?

Y/n knew. James - even as a boy - had brilliant reflexes. They met in a field that was near both their houses. James went to the field to sit by the lake or even swim in the lake. Y/n climbed the trees and read books on the safety of the wooden bark. But one day, she wasn’t as lucky. Y/n fell from the branch she was sitting on, and James chased after her to catch her.

Brilliant reflexes James had. At eight years old, he caught her and ran fast enough to do so. Y/n was waiting for impact, but she never felt it. Instead, two arms had been wrapped around her. One under her knees and one around her back. Instantly she was met with hazel eyes.

They were beautiful. A gorgeous mix of green and brown. But it wasn’t mixed like paint - no - it was mixed like old and vinegar, separated but together. His hair was shaggy and a mess. It was a beautiful chocolate brown color to match the brown in his eyes. The grass could resemble the green in his eyes. Peonies represented the pink in his cheeks.

The boy smiled, and Y/n smiled sheepishly back, “Afternoon.”

“Afternoon, sir.”

“Sir?” James repeated teasingly, “Do I look thirty?”

Y/n laughed, “Sorry. Force of habit.”

James set her on her own two feet, “Pureblood then too?”

“How did you know I was a witch?”

“Your scarf.”

She looked down to see the gold and maroon-colored scarf, “Oh. In that case, yes, I am a pureblood. You?”

“Me too.” James stated proudly, “Family of Gryffindors.”

“Me as well.”

James took her hand and kissed the back of it, “James Potter, at your service.”

Y/n blushed at his action, “Y/n L/n, at your service.”

From that point, Y/n and James became close friends. They’d switch between going to the lake or climbing trees. Thankfully their families knew each other, so becoming friends only brought them closer. In fact, Euphemia was so grateful to have Y/n’s mother closer now that their children were friends. Fleamont was delighted to be closer with Y/n’s father.

Fleamont Potter delved in Potion making while his wife Euphemia worked at St. Mungo’s, helping wizards and witches all around London. Y/n’s father worked with magical creatures, and her mother worked with Euphemia. James and Y/n got extraordinarily lucky. They were together almost every day.

Meeting at the age of eight gave them three years of being friends before going to Hogwarts. They were close by the age of eleven - really close. They stood side by side as they got on the Hogwarts Express and shared a compartment. James and Y/n talked animatedly until a knock at the container startled them.

“Um- Hello, everywhere else is full. May I sit?”

The boy had sandy hair and green eyes. Scars littered his body as far as the eye could see. He was rather tall for an eleven-year-old too, but he seemed nice enough. His voice had a thick welsh accent. It made his language a bit incoherent, but James and Y/n knew what he was trying to say. Nevertheless, James put on a bright smile.

“Of course!”

He gave a nervous smile looking at Y/n, “Come on. We don’t bite. Although James gets pretty loud.” Y/n smiled.

The boy sat hesitantly beside Y/n, “I’m Remus, Remus Lupin.”

“Brilliant to meet you, Remus; I’m James Potter.”

“And I’m Y/n L/n.”

Another hour went by with James and Y/n starting to get to know Remus. They learned that he was a half-blood and that he thoroughly enjoyed books. Y/n and Remus bonded over that while James was listening aimlessly, just enjoying the sound of Y/n’s voice. But another knock interrupted the conversation. This time a more confident boy showed up.

He was about the same height as James. He had dark brunet hair - darker than James’ - and blue-grey eyes. His smile was almost perfectly white and straight. His face structure was defined and chiseled. A cocky smiled grazed his features.

“‘Ello!” He exclaimed, “I was wondering if I could sit here. I just got kicked out of every other compartment.”

Remus and Y/n shrugged; they looked at James, “Sure.” James replied, patting the seat beside him, “Come sit, uh….”

“Sirius, Sirius Black.” Sirius finished sitting beside James as both purebloods dropped their jaws.

“Black? As in the Noble House of Black?” Y/n questioned, and Sirius nodded, “Indeed.”

James stuck out his hand, “James Potter.” Sirius shook his hand.

“Y/n L/n.”

“You two are purebloods too. Gryffindor purebloods.” Sirius commented, “Yep!” They replied simultaneously.

Sirius eyed the nervous-looking boy, “And you?”

“Rem- Remus Lupin.”

The entire rest of the trip - seven hours - was spent talking—no more interruptions. Y/n, Remus, James, and Sirius all got to know each other. The four of them stayed together through everything until the sorting. They all stood near each other while Professor McGonagall began to call names. James was practically shaking in his boots. Y/n grasped his hand tightly.

“You’ll be okay.” Y/n whispered, and James squeezed her hand thankfully, “Thanks, you too.”

Multiple names were called in alphabetical order of last name until finally B’s were beginning to get called, “Sirius Black!”

Y/n kissed his cheek, making Sirius blush profusely, “You’ll be fine.”

Sirius nodded as he pushed his way through the crowd of first years. Anybody in the wizarding world knew about the Noble House of Black. They were one of the most respected pureblood families. Most known for their line of Slytherins. Sirius Black sat on the stool and waited patiently as the hat spoke in his ear. His cousins watching eagerly from the Slytherin table.

Silence cut through the crowd until, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Great Hall was as quiet as a mouse. A Black in Gryffindor? The rival house to Slytherin, that was a no-go. James and Y/n exchanged nervous glances that said everything that needed to be - Sirius Black was going to be in big trouble. More names got called. Remus began to rock on his heels nervously.

“Remus Lupin!”

Again, the process repeated itself. Remus took his seat on the stool, and the hat was placed upon his head, making its commented in the boy's ear. Remus’ hands wouldn’t stop moving, and it was making Y/n want to throw up.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table yelled and cheered. Sirius Black upon them as a blissful smile placed itself upon Remus’ features. He stepped off the stood giving James and Y/n a grateful smile before sitting beside Sirius at the Gryffindor table. A red and gold tie was placed around his shoulders. His green eyes crinkled due to the cheerful smile on his lips.

Attendance seemed to be going slower - or so that’s how it felt - because of how close they were approached the P’s. James’ grip on Y/n’s hand began to get tighter, and his hand began to feel clammy. Y/n didn’t mind.

“James Potter!”

“Oh, Merlin…” James muttered before squeezing Y/n’s hand one more time.

Before stepping on the stool, he looked back at Y/n, who gave him a reassuring smile. James Potter sat upon the seat, and once again, the hat was placed above his hair. Within seconds the hat seemed to have made its decision.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Y/n screamed loudly for him along with the Gryffindor table. James’ hazel eyes met her e/c ones, and he winked. The boy took his spot across from Sirius and watched eagerly at his best friend waiting to be sorted. Sirius snapped his fingers in James' face to get his attention.

“How’d you meet?” Sirius inquired, “Mm?”

“How did you meet her?”

“Oh, she fell out of a tree, and I caught her.” James replied distantly, still looking at his best friend left alone in the smaller crowd.

“She’s nice.”

James nodded at Remus’ comment, “Definitely. She’s brilliant.”

Finally, they got to her last name. James was on his tipping point, and Sirius smiled reassuringly - like she had when he began to sit on the stood, “She’ll be fine. You know that.”

“I do, but still.”

Y/n couldn’t fathom her excitement yet nervousness. She was a walking contradiction. Carefully, not to step on her robes while her legs felt like jelly, she moved through the relatively small crowd. Only about ten kids remained now. Y/n sat on the stool and made direct eye contact with James, who threw her the most reassuring look possible.

“Curious, very curious.” The hat spoke in her ear, “Loyal, hardworking yet courageous and stupidly brave.”

Y/n almost snickered, “What a brilliant Hufflepuff you’d make.”

“Please, Gryffindor. Please, Gryffindor.”

“Gryffindor? Are you sure?” The hat queried, “Please.” Y/n begged.

If the sorting hat could’ve shrugged, he would’ve, “If that’s what you think.”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

James stumbled from the Gryffindor table as Y/n got off the stool with the same smile Remus had. The blissful, relaxed, and cheery smile. On his way out from the table, he almost fell, but he chased his way to her until Y/n was wrapped in his arms. Y/n placed her nose in the crook of his neck while James’ face was buried in her hair. They pulled away, and James led her to sit beside him.

“Told you she’d be fine.” Sirius remarked, “I worry.” James retorted with a smile.

Y/n fiend offense, “You were worried! Where’d you think I’d go? Slytherin?”

“Absolutely not!” James exclaimed, “Jus’ didn’t want to be separated from you.”

She nudged his shoulder with hers, “You aren’t getting rid of me.”

“Neither are you two.” Y/n pointed at the boys across from her, “Welcome to our group of four.”

“We’ve gotta come up with a better name for that.” Remus replied as the other three nodded, “Definitely.”

The boys and the girls had different dormitories. Y/n shared her dorm with three other girls named Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, and Lily Evans. Meanwhile, James, Remus, Sirius shared a dorm where they met a new boy with blond hair and blue eyes named Peter Pettigrew, who quickly was added to their group of four, which was now five.

James and Y/n shared almost every class aside from History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Instead, Y/n had History of Magic with Remus and Lily. At the same time sharing Defense Against the Dark Arts with Remus as well. She also became quick friends with her roommate, Marlene, through Quidditch. Y/n always admired James while he practiced being Chaser, while Y/n was his fake Keeper.

Throughout first year the new additions to their original duo learned how mischievous these two were. Y/n had an intelligent mind with practically foolproof plans, and James had the resources to make those plans work. Sirius was quick to join their prank-making wonders while Remus tended to stick with Y/n in making plans. Peter joined whenever he could.

Soon enough, the group was known as the pranksters around Hogwarts. Surprisingly enough, they were proud of their newfound title. They were all sitting in the boys' dorms. James, Y/n, and Sirius were talking about Quidditch. Peter was practicing the new incantation that Professor Flitwick had taught them, and Remus was reading. When out of nowhere, Remus exclaimed.

“I got it!”

“Got what, mate?” James questioned as the chatter stopped, and they all looked at the sandy-haired male, “Our group name!”

Y/n perked up, “Whatcha got, Remmy?”

“The Marauders!”

“Marauders?” Sirius repeated, confused, “What does that mean?”

Remus sighed, and Y/n giggled, “Marauders is another word for raiders, you idiot.”

“I like it.” Sirius commented, “I do too!” Peter interject.

The three looked at the original duo; Y/n shrugged, “Good call, Rem.”

“How about it, James?”

“I think it’s excellent! The Marauders it is!”

Henceforth, their legacy grew and were now known as the five Marauders. They were all known for something. James, good at getting resources. Sirius, good at persuading. Peter, the most logical. Remus, the brains of every mission. Finally, Y/n, the most reckless. Y/n is the one who’d go in first always; she was also the one with the most detentions.

In the second year, Y/n became more intuitive, observant, and curious about Remus. She noticed in the first year a pattern of when he’d get sick or his mother's sudden illness once a month. She was no stranger to these creatures as her father had worked with them for years. So before the first full moon of the new term, Y/n pulled Remus aside.

“You said you wanted to speak with me?” Remus inquired, and Y/n nodded, “I know.”

“Know about what?”

“I know.”

Remus rocked on his heels, “O- Oh….”

“Don’t worry, nobody else knows. Although they may have or will find out.” Y/n assured, but Remus still looked nervous, “Remus.”

She placed her hands on his taller shoulders, “You aren’t a monster. I’ve seen werewolves before.”

“You- You have?”

“My father works with magical creatures.” Y/n answered, “Werewolves are included.”

“Personally, I think they’re beautiful.” She stated, and tears grew in Remus’ eyes, “You do?”

“Of course, I do.” Y/n smiled, and Remus pulled her in for a hug, “Thank you.”

“Anytime and if you need anything. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

Eventually, Sirius found out next, which quite honestly baffled Remus. Then James and then finally Peter, who was definitely the most oblivious of the Marauders. But to Remus’ astonishment, they were all accepting. They loved Remus as much as his mom, which - in reality - was quite a lot. Every night after full moons, he’d find all four of them sitting beside him.

James would bring games to play for when he felt up for it. Peter got his books and set them on the table beside him. Sirius brought sweets and his stupidly funny jokes. Y/n held his hand and comforted him the best he could. Honestly, Y/n gave the best head scratches, and he definitely took advantage of it.

Second-year was also the time for new Quidditch players to join the team. James and Sirius were about to try out but were undeniably nervous. The morning of, neither of them ate, too worried to think about eating, scared of throwing it up later on the pitch.

“You both are tossers.” Y/n suddenly stated, “You’ll both make the team, and then we’ll celebrate it later, yeah?”

They nodded, “Good. Now get yourselves outta this funk. It’s annoying.”

It was unavoidable. They didn’t just get out of their funk until they got on the pitch. Before James and Y/n separated - her to the seats and him to the pitch - he took ahold of her hand. Squeezing it tightly with his eyes closed. His broom in his other hand that was trembling slightly. Y/n took her hand from his and placed her hands on his cheeks.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Promise promise?” James asked, “Promise promise.” Y/n confirmed.

She let go of his face and began to run off to catch up with Remus, “Good luck!”

“Thanks.” James murmured to himself, “I’ll need it.”

Without a doubt, James was the best Chaser the Gryffindor had ever seen. Sirius was one hell of a beater too. Marlene even tried out for the new Beater position too. Four parts needed to be filled due to seventh-years leaving. Two Beaters, one Chaser, and one Keeper. Y/n and Remus were crossing their fingers that they all got the positions they wanted.

The following week the results were posted. James, Sirius, and Marlene made the team! Y/n would never forget the gleeful smile that passed its way onto James’ face or the way Sirius laughed. She’d never seen them so happy before. Remus and her stood feet away from their little party, his arm thrown around her shoulders.

“It’s nice to see them this way.”

“It is.”

Remus teasingly nudged her hip, “Seems like James has always been a Chaser.”

“What's that suppose to mean?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the lycanthrope, “You’ll see it eventually.”

Y/n didn’t pry. It wasn’t worth it, especially when it’s with Remus. Remus was the ultimate secret keeper and cynical. He said things that made you think but would never tell you what they mean. Eventually, more years passed and they were in the summer going into their seventh year.

James invited Y/n to stay the summer at the Potter manor, and she did. It was possibly one of the best summers he’s ever had with her being so close. Mrs. Potter seemed to know what Remus was talking about when she threw looks at her husband when the two best friends were together. But it was one evening that they were all watching a movie when someone came through the Floo Network.

They jumped up from the couch to see a roughed-up Sirius Black, “Sirius!”

James was frozen along with his two parents, but Y/n wasn’t. She was haste to get Sirius up from the floor to help him stand. He had a nasty cut below his right eye and what seemed to be more all across his body which his mother could only do. But instantly, Y/n had been ordering James around while Sirius laid on his back on the couch.

Thankfully, Y/n knew what to do and Euphemia, but she was frozen, still watching her son's best friend take care of their other best friend. James set everything she needed beside her as she began to work quickly. James sat next to her in case she needed anything else. Y/n tore off his shirt and lifted his pants to right over the edge of his boxers.

“James, hold his hand.” Y/n ordered, and he did it, “I’m so sorry, Sirius, but this’ll sting.”

And it did. Sirius groaned and constantly hissed as Y/n helped his wounds, the muggle way. Euphemia stared in shock, no longer frozen, but it was evident that Y/n had complete control over the situation and needed no extra help. Within an hour, Sirius was brand new. Y/n had carefully used potions and other bandages to help.

“What happened, Sirius?”

He chuckled bitterly, “My mother.”

“No shit.” James retorted, “Why?”

“I’ve been burned off the tapestry. I’m not aloud back because I denied them.”

“Denied them?” Y/n inquired.

“Of you know what.”

“Oh…” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, oh.” Sirius chuckled again - venom lacing.

Euphemia exchanged looks with her husband, “You’re welcome to stay here.”

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you guys.” Sirius denied hesitantly, and Fleamont shrugged, “Where else are you going to go?”

Sirius stayed silent, “We don’t mind, Sirius. You’ve stayed here before. Euphemia loves having you around just as much as I do.”

“You may not be our son biologically.” Euphemia began as she knelt in front of Sirius, “But you’ll always be our son.”

A single tear fell from Sirius’ eye, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear.”

James and Y/n exchanged looks of pure glee, but Euphemia caught their eye, “No mischief, you two.”

They sighed, “Fine.”

The duo pulled Sirius up from the couch and led him to his new bedroom. Euphemia watched Y/n and James work in perfect symphony as if they were a made team from the start. Fleamont pulled his wife to his side, watching them both as well. How perfectly his son worked with her. How amazingly gentle he was with her.

“He may not know it yet, but he loves her.” Euphemia broke the silence, “Reminds me of us.”

Fleamont quirked an eyebrow, “How so?”

“You always had this dopey grin on your face. The same one James has when Y/n’s around. It’s been that way since they met. When he first mentioned her name, he had that grin. He’s chased her all these years.”

“Perhaps our son has always been a Chaser at heart.” Fleamont commented, “Perhaps.”

It wasn’t until the first Quidditch match he realized. When he was chasing Y/n around to try and hug her after the game they had won against Ravenclaw. Y/n prohibited hugs after Quidditch matches. Yet here James was chasing her around the pitch with her a screaming mess.

Lily, Marlene, and Remus were laughing loudly at him, “Y/n! Y/n come on!”

“Absolutely not!” Y/n yelled while running, “I told you no hugs after matches.”

She spoke too soon because while she was talking, she had slowed down without noticing. Leaving James to wrap his arms around her from behind. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck while she leaned back into him.

“See! You love my hugs.” James exclaimed, “Whatever.” Y/n retorted.

Remus chuckled at them from afar, “They’re definitely in love.”

“How hasn’t she seen it yet?” Lily chuckled, “Oh, he’s been chasing her for years. Since before Hogwarts.” Remus replied.

“Chaser at heart that one,” Sirius stated putting his arm around the lycanthrope.

James realized it then and there. With her in his arms. He was sweaty and full of joy. She was wholly melted into his embrace. His arms around her neck and her arms on top of his biceps. James realized there was nowhere else he’d rather be than with her at this moment. So he pulled her around, facing her.

“Y/n.”

“James.”

Without a second thought, he pulled her in and kissed her. His arms were moving down to her waist and hers around his shoulders. He was so gentle and soft with her. As if she was the finest China he’d ever owned. Godric James was so soft and so sweet. Y/n’s hands went through his sweaty hair.

The whistles and cheers are what pulled them apart, “Finally!”

“It’s about time you realized!” Remus exclaimed happily, “He’s been chasing you for years!”

Y/n smiled at him, and James put his arm around her shoulder, “My chaser.”

“I’ll always chase you, love.”

Years later, that snitch James always played with would be the same one McGonagall had taken from him one day in the seventh year. It was the same snitch that Harry had almost swallowed in his first year. The same snitch that Dumbledore returned to Harry in his seventh year.

The snitch? It was given to James from Y/n when they were nine. It was an honorary friendship gift. The snitch wasn’t stolen. The snitch wasn’t nicked. The snitch was a gift to a chaser who never stopped chasing till the very end.

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