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notnctu · 3 years

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backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo ; @yunoyeol ; @lanadreamie ; @ta3ilmoon ;

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating.

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart.

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well.

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you.

#neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #jaemin #nct #jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct dream series #ridinclub

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

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the prelab chronicles ft. the occasional neighbor boy:

- "2 is greater than 1. right? right? yes. tis."

- "thats a lot of camphor and menthol i feel like i'm definitely gonna hit pass out number eight tomorrow." "BACK UP what do you mean number 8??" "ITS THE MENTHOL OKAY DONT WORRY ABOUT IT."

- "if i didnt add any water, then its not a water-containing compound RIGHT??" "yes?" "WRONG THERES SECRET WATER."

- "since this is nonsterile compounding do you think i'll get points off if i cry into it?"

- "do you think i could shove a clump of aquaphor in my labcoat pocket and take it home?" "what like a pet?" "no, we're working with white pet next week." "is that a pharmacist joke? are you being a dork right now?" "absolutely (✿◠‿◠)"

- "TWO IS STILL GREATER THAN ONE, YES?" "you're gonna be a licensed pharmacist" "LEAVE ME ALONE, OKAY? MATH IS HARD"

#jabber jay #neighbor boy 🏡

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mayakern · 4 months

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absolutely adorable rat pocket pics from @ agret_fethr on instagram!!!!!! i cannot handle how cute these are 😭😭😭

#pocket pet chronicles #store #customer pics

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feralrosie · 3 years

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♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort for amelia/morgan

@bellarxse said: Amelia/Morgan, crying about something?

I mixed those two! Thank you both so much for the prompts ♥ it’s been so long that I don’t even have the list anymore, tho ASDFGHJK

The Wayhaven Chronicles Bff!Morgan & Amelia Langford Words: 2156 Rating: G for Girl Needs Therapy Tags: Hurt/Comfort Read on AO3

It was not unusual for them to disagree, but fighting was slightly rarer. The fiery red hair was not the only thing that Amelia had in common with her mother; both of them were very outspoken, unafraid of expressing their opinions and neither ever wanted to give up and accept defeat. That was how their disagreements turned into arguments, and how the arguments became shoutings.

Until, of course, Rebecca pulled the best cards from her sleeve—as always.

“You are staying here, and that is an order.” Her voice rumbled through clenched teeth across the meeting’s room in the Warehouse, striking like a thunder. “End of discussion, Detective.”

Detective. Rebecca had this special skill to detach the mother from the boss completely—that is, if she had a motherly side at all—but whenever this happened, the battle was over and she could claim her victory. And all of that, endless minutes of barking at each other, just because she wouldn’t allow Amelia to join Ava and Nat on a “too dangerous” mission that she was “not skilled enough” for.

Pressing her hands in fists so tight that her nails began digging into her skin, Amelia turned on her heels, heading to the corridor. “Fine!” She screamed before yanking the door open, “Do whatever you want, Agent.”

And, with the slam of the door, she was out. Thought her nerves would finally calm down, but the sight of two vampires perching against the opposite wall, one pair of hands hidden in pockets and the other crossed over a broad chest, was enough to snatch a grunt from her.

“Amy—” Nat tried to speak but was interrupted when Amelia held up her palm.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to this.” The professionalism in her voice was concerning, sounding too much like Rebecca’s, which could only expose how angry—hurt, even—she was. “Good luck on your mission. Keep me informed.”

Not wasting more of her breath, Amelia turned her back again, anxious to escape from the piercing green eyes frowning at her. Truly a pathetic attempt, given that it took nothing for Ava to launch herself from the wall and reach the Detective’s arm, holding her wrist with impossible care to spin her body around and face her.

“Amelia,” she whispered, choking on her concern, unsure of what to say next. She let her fingers drop ever so slightly with the burning wish of holding her hand, and for a moment the detective might have accepted such comfort, if it was not for Rebecca—always, always Rebecca—storming out of the office behind them, making so much noise with her high heels that Amy felt like she was stepping on her temples.

Nat was quick to prompt her in conversation, driving Rebecca away from the detective and allowing everyone to catch their breaths again. A ragged sigh escaped Amelia’s lips when she moved her hand away from Ava’s, placing it featherlight on the commanding agent’s cheek.

“I will be here when you come back,” she tried to sound as confident as possible, but knew Ava would not be so easily fooled by the bluff, “Be careful, Ava.”

The detective did not allow a reply, leaving for the common room right after; could only hear a defeated grunt behind her, followed by the imposing sound of combat boots marching away.

The warehouse was already huge, but for Amelia, it felt twice the size. Each new step was like walking on knives, and she needed to run to escape the anguish pooling in her throat, threatening to leak from her eyes. The air weighed in her lungs when she slammed the door behind her, finally safe in the solitude, and she needed desperately to let it out of her. Reached for the couch in search of a cushion where she could dig her nails, a much preferable alternative than to follow the same path of her mother down the corridor that lead both to the gym and the foyer.

But her plans of sinking her face in the soft fabric of Nat’s pillows and screaming her soul out were thwarted as quickly as her desire to punch something in the training room.

“What the—” In front of her, between the sofa, armchairs and coffee table, there was the largest, most elaborate blanket fort she’d ever seen. Nat’s couch was dismantled, its seat pillows serving as walls for the fortress, and what seemed like Farah’s duvet covered the entire structure as a ceiling. The thing was not like any child’s play, having two rooms, a window made with the blank space between two cushions and even a porch.

“Farah’s doing.” A voice came from behind Amelia, startling her to look behind. Morgan was standing by the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her chest, frowning at the detective. Amelia didn’t even hear her coming from the hallway or open the door. “Apparently she found out that this is something human children do and decided to give it a try, too.”

“Nat is going to kill her for destroying the sofa.” Amelia cursed under her breath her inability of maintaining a steady posture when her mind was so full of fire that made her voice crack. She turned away from Morgan, too embarrassed to face her, and shut her eyes closed, knowing too well that the deep blue of her irises was accentuated by the red markings of the tears that she could not contain anymore.

She heard the door click closed again and footsteps approaching, but keeping a safe distance. Amelia could feel the grey eyes on her back, studying every inch of her body, listening to her racing heartbeat and capturing the heat growing on her neck. Somehow, knowing that Morgan was just standing there behind her was worse than facing Ava earlier. She caught her breath and turned around, ready to blast whatever came to mind when—

“That was a pretty ugly fight you pulled up there.” Morgan was unusually close, keeping her gaze fixed on hers, piercing her with the intensity with which she stared. Those could be the eyes of a hunter, of an agent specialised in interrogations, but when Morgan sighed and let her shoulders sag, arms falling to her sides, her countenance was but of a friend’s. “Are you alright?”

The question alone was enough to get Amelia off-balance, hurting like a dagger cutting her throat open to let the bulging pain finally out—and she broke. Covered her face with both hands, hunching in her own weight, to let herself shriek as tears began to roll freely down her cheeks and between her fingers. Did not care if Morgan flinched with the sound, but could not be more thankful to feel a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I just—” she tried once, twice, but the muffled words would not take shape. “It’s just so frustrating that—”

“That you still have to listen to your mother, now as a boss?”

“That she won’t listen to me.” She blurted, finally being able to look up back at Morgan. “She never did, never trusted me. She thinks I’m a child, incapable of doing my job. Won’t even listen to my opinion! Hell, I studied and trained all my life to be the best, and now that I have a chance to prove myself every day, she—ugh!”

Trying to regain control over herself, Amelia ran her fingers over her hair and let her hands rest on the back of her neck as she looked up at the dim ceiling lights. She inhaled sharply, wiping one last tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, turning her face down to focus on the impressively soothing presence of Morgan near her. Embarrassment—for yelling, for exposing herself so much—was not new to her, but Amelia hated it every time. “I just need to calm down.”

“Take your time,” Morgan kept her hand on her shoulder, thumb tracing circles near her neck so lightly that Amelia doubted the vampire was aware of her own movements. “I can come back later to check up on you, if that’s ok.”

“No, please. Stay…” To plead with someone to keep her company was, somehow, even more embarrassing. As she felt her tears coming back to life, Amelia avoided the other’s eyes, turning her face to the side and touching the lean fingers on her shoulder with her chin. She tried—wanted—to not need anyone and was used to always being alone, so it seemed counterproductive to start needing people now. Yet, the thought of letting Morgan leave was terrifying.

But Morgan did not leave, and both of them kept their silence for a while. Amelia could feel her own heart beating heavy in her chest, and wondered how it sounded to Morgan. “If I tell you a secret,” she whispered, not moving her face away from the other’s hand, “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

“Sure.” The word, despite being so simple, had a smile of its own. “But I can’t promise to not use it as blackmail against you later.”

Amy chuckled, her eyes roaming across the mess of pillows and blankets in the common room. “When I was a child, every time that I fought with my mother, I locked myself in my room and built a blanket fort. Not like this one, it was just a simple huddle of pillows. I don’t know why it felt so safe, but I spent so many nights like this… Of course, I had to tidy up the room all over again in the mornings, but at least it helped me sleep.”

Morgan was a great listener, so Amy did not hesitate to take the opportunity to keep talking, surprisingly at ease, “I think the last time I did it, I was quite old already—fifteen years old, probably, it was a big fight. But to this day I sleep with a lot of pillows all around me. I hope Farah didn’t steal any of mine to build this monstrosity.”

“Only one way to figure it out, princess.” Morgan prompted, smirking at the grimace caused by the pet name and letting her hand slip down Amy’s arm before heading to the blanket fort. She kneeled, ready to get in when turned her attention back at Amelia. “You coming or what?”

“You really don’t have to do this, Morgan.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” The vampire shrugged while a softer smile formed on her lips. “But I’m going to, anyway. Come on.”

As if the weight in her chest had vanished, Amelia chuckled, following her friend in. There was plenty of room for both of them inside, but Morgan didn’t mind when the redhead snuggled closer, hugging her like a giant plush toy. Amelia let her head rest on the agent’s chest and smiled when Morgan wrapped her arms around her. For the longest time, everything was silent and warm, shadows engulfing the room around them as the night finally arrived.

Amelia tried not to think about her fight, tried really hard, but the words—those spoken and heard—kept echoing in her mind. She replayed the entire thing over and over again, thinking of what she should have said and what should have kept for herself, but in the end, it was all in vain. She could not change the past, even if she wished the power to go back twenty years in time and tell herself to do different, do better. Even if she wished more than anything that her mother would finally see her—

“I’m sorry,” Amelia whispered against the dark fabric of Morgan’s shirt, tears flowing freely once again along her cheeks. Wasn’t sure what or to whom she was apologising for, if for the uncontrollable sobbing mess that she became when Morgan tangled her fingers in her hair or for everything else that she ached to change.

“Don’t be silly,” the vampire pressed her arms tighter around the delicate figure of her. “There is nothing you should apologise for. You did nothing wrong, Amy.”

I just want to be good enough, she wished to admit, to lay her heart bare like that in a silly blanket fort, but such bravery would require every last drop of her strength, a luxury she could not spare. Didn’t even want to scream anymore, and could only hope that Morgan would understand how grateful she was to have her there as her crying turned into the silent despair of exposing herself.

Amelia had been exhausted for too long, it was clear to her now, and yet she had no idea of what to do next. Was it fair to ask for help, when everyone else was already working so hard to keep her alive and well, protected from every supernatural being out there?

Whatever the answer, she would have to figure it out later. For the moment, she was satisfied to just feel Morgan’s fingers on her hair, and the warmth of the blanket fort around her.

#the wayhaven chronicles #agent m #twc morgan #amelia langford #my writing #i truly enjoyed writing this despite hurting my girl #gotta improve my angst game tho #alavidzes

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athenagrantnash · 3 years

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Bathena wasn’t together really long before they got married and hadn’t lived together. What was the quirk, habit or pet peeve that surprised the other the most? What’s the one they loved the most and what’s the one that annoyed the heck out them?

Bobby always just leaves his keys wherever he happens to set them down. Before he moved in it wasn't a problem... he was going to leave at the end of the day anyway, so the keys could kind of go anywhere. But after they got married and after he moved in...

It doesn't matter that they have a "key drawer" on the foyer table, and it doesn't matter how many times Athena reminds him of its existence - they keys never go in there.

Sometimes they're set on top of the foyer table, sometimes they're on the kitchen table, sometimes they're on the counter, sometimes they're in his jacket pocket.

But they never end up in the drawer.

Bobby doesn't understand why they need to be put in a drawer, he always knows where they are except (of course) for when Athena takes it upon herself to put them in the drawer

That's the most annoying quirk. On both ends.

The thing that surprised both of them the most is that they both had the habit of getting up a little bit early just to sit outside for an hour, enjoying the weather, mentally preparing for the day.

Athena is typically a coffee drinker, but for her Morning Hour she always drinks peppermint tea. She can get the caffeine pick-me-up later, for that hour she wants everything to be calm and quiet and peaceful.

Bobby has a habit of bringing a journal out with him, chronicling everything good that happened the day before. He found, after he threw away the Book of Names that he missed having something to write in every day. There was something peaceful about having it, so he took up... well not quite "journaling", but certainly a book of lists. He would write down every joyful thing that happened the day before, no matter how small. Chimney showing more pictures of Jee, Buck making them all laugh with another one of his useless facts, Athena's gentle touch at the end of his shift when he finally got home. He never wanted to forget the little moments again, so he lists all of them in his journal as he sits with Athena in that first hour of their day, not really talking, just enjoying each other's presence while they do their own thing.

#bathena #bobby nash #athena grant #911 #911 fox #911 on fox #ask me a question

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champion-leon-imagines · 3 years

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Chronicles of Galar - Prologue 1: Taiko Hirebayashi

Some Info beforehand. This is going a pretty long fic with several chapters. But the chapters are somewhat different than normal fanfictions. Because they are just in chronological order but some of them are not actually connected to each other and some may have a greater timeskip than others. Imagine it like a readable diary of your adventures with just the mention worthy adventures added. But be careful, because this story is like a HELL OF A TOOTHROTTING-FLUFF fic. The main pairing is of course You x Leon. A side Pairing is Taiko(OC) x Raihan and a mentioned Pairing is Leiko(OC) x Piers Although, you won’t have to deal much with Leiko. But Taiko will get a bigger role since she becomes your best friend. Oh and if you wanna look for the Fic and it’s parts, make sure to follow the tag: Chronicles of Galar. Now enough Chatting, here is the introduction of the first character: My lovely tsun Taiko! And don’t forget: This is NOT proof read. English is NOT my first language. So please be gentle with mistakes.

[Prologue: Taiko Hirebayashi]

[9 years before the timeline in sword / shield]

“Taiko, honey. Don't run too far away from the camp. The wild area is teeming with Pokemon. ”, a woman, around her late 20s to early 30s with purple hair that was tied in a pigtail, spoke in a warning tone. She wore glasses and petted a Flareon, her loyal partner Pokemon. "Yes, mommy.", a 9-year old girl with fiery red hair replied cheekily. "And stop using this word, please. Did you learn that here in Galar? Please just call me mother. ”, she corrected her daughter. Ever since the holiday in Galar began, the child seemed to have increasingly adopted the linguistic peculiarities of the inhabitants of this region. "Okay, mother.", Taiko muttered and rolled her eyes in slight annoyance. She didn't thought it was that bad, because she loved everything in Galar. Much more than at her home in Ecruteak City, in Johto. Her mother was one of the dancing geishas at Ho-Oh's temple, which was why Taiko was promised an Eevee for her 10th birthday as a starter Pokemon. Like all geishas, she should learn the art of meditation dance one day, in order to command the awe of the holy phoenix pokemon. But now they were here, in Galar, enjoying a few days of vacation.

Taiko quickly got bored, however. In her tent, she started to felt shut in. Her toys were only entertaining for a short period of time. She wanted to explore the wild area and see Pokemon! No matter how much her mother told her not to.

The young redhead sneaked out of the tent, while her parents were talking to an employee of the Pokemon Rangers, because a wild Dynamax Pokemon attacked the Lake of outrage nearby. Therefore, a warning was issued to all traveling coaches and tourists to stay away from this lake in any case.

If that didn't sound like an adventure ..

Without even thinking about it, the girl simply ran through the wild area. Lake of outrage was relatively in the middle of the area and her parents' camp was quite far to the south, at a popular campground for out-of-towners. Because there were only weak Pokemon running around, which did not pose any danger to hikers.

So Taiko just had to walk south, right? ... But she didn't knew where the south was.

The extroverted redhead remembered her days in the scouts camp, which had taken place near Cianwood City. She remembered that moss grows on the northern side of trees because they are often in the shade due to the rays of the sun on the other side and the moss can spread there. So Taiko examined the surrounding trees and based on the position of the moss, she quickly knew where north was. She nodded proudly and then strutted north, full of energy.

Meanwhile in another part of the wild area.

“Pokeball, go!” an 11 year old boy with dark skin, casual clothes and a red headband that hid most of his hair, shouted. The pokeball hit a small, white spherical pokemon, which was vaguely reminiscent of a slug. The dragon pokemon Goomy. The ball wobbled three times before stopping and trapping the Pokemon. "YES!" the boy smirked and put himself in a victory pose, which, of course, nobody could see because he was alone. Shortly afterwards, he took his Rotom smartphone out of his pocket and took a picture of himself and his latest catch. Then he opened a social media page that was similar to Facebook.

'Look, I caught a Goomy! The dragon tamer Raihan has struck again! : D Soon nobody can stop me, so take a good look @Leon! I will be champion before you!'

With a grin, Raihan tapped 'Publish' and waited for the many likes from his friends and “fans”, as he liked to call his followers. It took less than 5 minutes before his best friend and rival had already made a like and comment.

'Wow, congratulations @Raihan! This Pokemon is totally rare! Unfortunately I haven't seen one yet. But don't be too early! Who will be champion first is still to be decided! '

Raihan grinned and replied, in his cheeky way. 'You have to find the stadium for our decisive fight first! XD I have enough time to train my Pokemon. '

The young man put his smartphone back in his pocket, he knew that Leon never accepted his provocations and therefore it was a waste of time to wait for an answer. “Come on, Vibrava. Let's see if we can find more cool Pokemon! ”He said to his partner Pokemon. The green, dragonfly-like Pokemon nodded eagerly and flew over the area, while Raihan grinned and followed his companion. He just loved looking for Pokemon in the wild area.

Back to Taiko. The young redhead was already regretting her spontaneous ideas and had to admit: she was lost.

This part of the wild area was so heavily overgrown by dense forest that hardly any sunlight penetrated through the thicket and consequently the moss grew on all sides of the trees. So it was impossible for her to determine in which direction she had to go.

"...MUM? DAD? DO YOU HEAR ME? ”And then she gave up and called desperately for her parents. Why the hell was she always so .. stubborn and had to give in to her curiosity?

The girl fell on her knees and began to cry. She was just too spontaneous and didn't think about the consequences. Now she was here in an unknown area, far away from her parents and who knows what else was lurking in the dark thicket?

A bush near her began to jiggle and that frightened the little girl. She stopped her emotional outburst and looked frightened at the bush. She crawled a few feet back from her almost sitting position and shivered as the rustling increased. Taiko swallowed lightly, trying not to make a sound to attract the attention of this unknown creature in the bush.

Suddenly a small, white rabbit pokemon rolled out with some somersaults. It had a kind of red fur in the shape of a plaster on its nose and its long ears wiggled and twitched as it straightened up and looked around. Taiko looked at the little Pokemon, which noticed her now too. It looked back. Neither of them moved for a few moments until Taiko blinked several times.

"How cute ..", she beamed and crawled forward on all fours. The little Pokemon stopped and tilted its head slightly as it watched the humans movements. "Scor? Scorbunny!" the little creature said. Taiko knew that Pokemon could only say their name, so now she knew the species. So that was a Scorbunny! She had never seen it before. Was it a regional Pokemon from Galar?

"Mmm, I think I have some candy somewhere …" the redhead mumbled. At least the situation calmed her down enough to forget about her outbreak minutes before ... She searched her pockets and actually found some fruit gums made from red haban berries. A very sweet type of berry that was perfect for sweets. Taiko smiled and offered the Pokemon some fruit gums. "Little one? You're are hungry, aren't you? ”She asked.

Scorbunny bounced closer and sniffed the girl's hand. Probably a first approach as to whether it could trust the person. As it took a fruit gum on its paws, it sniffed the gelatine again and stuffed it into its mouth. Taiko giggled as the Scorbunny gleefully chewed the fruit gum and then happily hopped up. "Scor! Scor Scor Bun?"

Taiko didn't knew what the Pokemon was trying to tell her, but from it's hopping around and staring at the fruit gums, it was obvious. It wanted more candy. The redhead smiled and gave Scorbunny a few more fruit gums. This time the Pokemon was braver and patted Taiko's hand with its paws before pounding on the fruit gums. Taiko had to laugh gently when Scorbunny let 5 fruit gums disappear into it's mouth at once and chewed contentedly. "You remind me of me." Taiko giggled.

Scorbunny finished snacking and as a token of gratitude, leaned it with its head on her arm and cuddled up to her. Taiko blinked slightly in surprise. Who could have guessed that wild Pokémon would approach humans so quickly? So obviously love goes through the stomach. Taiko smiled again and ruffled Scorbunnys fur behind it's ears. The Pokemon let out a satisfied purr and closed its eyes.

After a while, the Pokemon hopped onto her lap. This action surprised Taiko and she put both hands around the Pokemon. "It's so trusting .. it definitely belongs to someone ..", the redhead sighed, disappointed. She would have liked to keep the Scorbunny to herself. The two lingered like this for a few minutes until Taiko noticed that she was still in a quandary. She still didn't know how to get back to her parents. And the Pokemon was certainly not a sign back.

Slowly, the girl got up and let Scorbunny on the floor. “Go, your trainer is probably already worried about you.“ Taiko smiled and gave it a few last fruit gums before she continued on her way.

For the next 10 minutes she already missed Scorbunny .. She sighed softly to herself and stopped to lean against a tree. "Scorbunny ..." Taiko's eyes widened when she heard the Pokemon's call and turned around. Scorbunny was a few meters away from her. Taiko didn't even think for a second that it might be another Pokemon. It MUST be the same ..

When the Pokemon saw the girl kneel down, it ran into her arms and snuggled against the redhead's chest. Taiko straightened up and hugged the Pokemon. "You probably missed me too ..?", She asked and as if Scorbunny wanted to answer, it's nose nudged her fist when she raised her hand in front of it. Taiko smiled. "Then let's find a way back together." Scorbunny nodded and climbed onto her shoulder, where it made itself comfortable.

Taiko went on for a while, she didn't know how long, but it was already getting dark. Her parents were probably worried ... Then suddenly a huge lake was before her. Scorbunny sniffed the new surroundings and then tensed up with a menacing growl. The redhead swallowed at this cautious behavior. "The Lake of Outrage ...", she realized then. She wanted to run in the other direction when suddenly a giant Pangoro blocked her way. Apparently she had invaded it's territory because it looked angry. And aggressive.

The redhead stepped back, startled, and tripped over a thick branch. She fell on her bum and held her aching foot after she fell on it with her weight and cried out in pain. Pangoro seemed angry at the noise and stepped closer. It's dangerous threatening gesture made the girl's blood run cold. Scorbunny growled loudly and jumped in front of the girl as if it wanted to fight Pangoro.

"No..! This is an evolved Pokemon ...! It's too strong .. ” Taiko warned, but Scorbunny tried to attack with a double kick and jumped on the evolved Panda Pokemon. Pangoro held up Scorbunnys leg with one paw and tossed it back so that it landed in the mud next to the girl. "Scorbunny!" Taiko shouted distraught and took Scorbunny in her arms when Pangoro came closer and raised his paw for a blow. The redhead closed her eyes tightly and tears ran down her cheeks. "I don't want to die yet ..."

"Vibrava, dragon rush!", a boy's voice penetrated her ears and Taiko looked up when something enveloped in a blue aura slammed into the menacing Panda Pokemon from above in full speed. Pangoro was staggered by the recoil and Raihan jumped in front of Taiko, ordering his Vibrava to make further attacks. "Super power, now!"Raihan ordered, causing Vibrava to launch a wave of attacks on the Pangoro. The fighting Pokemon appeared to be extremely robust and put up with all attacks. "Damn it, well then we have no other choice. Vibrava, use sandstorm! "Raihan shouted. Then he turned to the girl behind him. "Cover your mouth and nose!"

Taiko nodded and pushed the scarf, that her mother had given her over, half over her face. Vibrava created a dense sandstorm that made the entire area so opaque that you couldn't see anything. It was only when Taiko felt someone put a hand on her shoulder that she recognized the outlines of the boy, who helped her. "Let's get out of here before the storm subsides," he said. Taiko tried to get up, but a strong pain in her leg made her fall back to the ground.

"Ouch .."

"Hey, are you okay?" Raihan asked, holding her to keep her from falling again.

"I must have broken my leg when I tripped earlier .. I can't step .." the redhead sighed in frustration. Raihan blinked for a moment and saw his Vibrava land on his shoulder. He knew the sandstorm wouldn't hold up the enemy Pokemon much longer. An idea occurred to him without further ado and he turned his back on the girl while he knelt down. “Climb on my back. I'll carry you. ", He said.

"T-I can't ask that of you ..", Taiko mumbled and shook her head vigorously.

“Come on, my tent is not far from here and the storm won't hold back Pangogo for long. We have to get out of here. ”, the young trainer explained and Taiko probably had no other choice. She sighed and climbed onto his back, the Scorbunny clinging on her shirt and holding onto her as the boy carried her away from the lake.

It really didn't take long, a maximum of 10 minutes, until the boy reached his tent and gently laid the young girl on his sleeping bag.

"Here we are. Uhm. What's your name anyway? ”The boy then asked with a smile.

"T-Taiko and what's your name?"

"Raihan. Are you a Gym Challenger too? " Raihan asked and saw how the Scorbunny had snuggled up with her and was sleeping. The redhead shook her head. “I'm not from here and I'm only 9 .. My parents and I are only here for vacation. I live in Johto. “, She then explained.

“Then why were you alone at Lake of outrage? It's not an approved campsite at all. On the contrary, it is strictly forbidden for travelers to enter here.“

"Uhm .. well .. I was curious because I was bored in the tent and .. then I somehow got lost ..", the redhead explained, embarrassed, and tugged on a strand of red hair. Raihan just looked at her before he laughed. This reaction offended Taiko now that she thought he was making fun of her situation.

"Hey, that's not funny, I was really scared!" She said with a pout and turned away with slightly flushed cheeks. Raihan wiped a tear of laughter from his face and grinned slightly before winking at her. "Sorry, I didn't laugh at you. Just .. I've done so much nonsense too. When I was 5, my father was camping here with me too and I saw a Trapinch and followed it to Lake of outrage too. My father had to save me from a wild Gyarados in the water. And I was just thinking that I was having a deja vu when I saved you, ”he admitted with a laugh.

Taiko blinked slightly.

"Uhm ..", she just wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "Thank you for the rescue ..", she said quietly, but still slightly offended, and turned her head away from him.

"You are welcome. But let's take care of your leg first. ", Raihan said and got a first aid kit from the corner of his stuff. Taiko lingered as quiet as a mouse, a rarity with her otherwise extroverted personality, when Raihan exposed the leg by lifting her pants up the affected leg and pulling down her socks to inspect the damage. “That looks bad. No wonder you can't walk. ", He said and took a rag that he moistened with a kind of disinfectant spray. "That could burn a bit now," he warned her.

The redhead bit her lip and squeaked softly as he placed the rag on the wound on her leg. Raihan smiled and praised her for how bravely she got through this action. She even had to laugh a little when he confessed that he had screamed like crazy when he was injured and his father wanted to treat him with the stuff too. She didn't know why, but somehow Taiko didn't feel so helpless anymore.

She watched spellbound as he expertly cleaned the wound and treated it with a bandage. "You don't seem to be doing this for the first time," she said then. Raihan blinked and then looked up at her as he kneeled in front of her to put his foot on his lap.

"Yeah. I have a clumsy best friend. His injury rate is pretty high when he's got lost. I don't even know how often I've been bandaged his falls and grazes. ", Raihan said thoughtfully and Taiko giggled. “Sounds like me. I am also at risk of injury. A miracle it was only the leg. ", She sighed. Raihan smiled and put her leg down again.

“You would certainly get along well. He exudes the same positive energy as you. ", Raihan said, whereupon Taiko went a little red in the face. However, she didn't know why. "I exude positive energy?" She asked.

"Sure, of course. You can see that just by how Scorbunny has taken you to its heart! I thought to myself that it wasn't yours when you said you were only 9 and not from here. So it's a wild Pokemon, but it behaves like you've been training it for years. ", The boy remarked, whereupon the girl's cheeks turned even darker. "Uhm .. I'll take that as a compliment .." she whispered, slightly embarrassed. "It was one." Raihan winked and was amused by the shy behavior of the girl. At the lake she had behaved differently. Then there was a short silence between the two of them until Raihan reached for his smartphone. For once, he wasn't interested in his social media activities. “Which campsite are you at? In the east or in the south? ”He asked.

"Uhm .. south?"

"All right." Raihan smiled and started dialing a number.

"Who are you calling?"

“Mr. Pascal. He is practically the lessor of the campsite. Your parents surely miss you. So I'll give him our coordinates so that someone can come and pick you up. Because I can't carry you the way to the campsite. ”At this comment the redhead blushed again and turned away slightly. “Your last name would still be helpful to find your parents more easily. "..Hirabayashi."

Raihan called and talked to Pascal for a few minutes until he had passed on all the informations. About the aggressiveness of the Pokemon at Lake of outrage, about the injured girl and also their whereabouts. Then he thanked him and hung up. “They can't send a rescue team out until tomorrow morning because they'd have problems finding us and transporting you. I told them that you can spend the night with me in the tent and that you are safe. ", Raihan said. "Uhm .. but you only have one sleeping bag." Taiko spoke. "But that doesn't matter .. I can sleep on the floor."

Raihan sighed.

“There is no way of letting a girl sleep on the floor. You sleep in my sleeping bag, I sleep on the floor. " He said.

"Never."

"Well, then we'll both sleep on the floor if you don't give in." Raihan shrugged his shoulders, whereupon Taiko rolled his eyes. "Then give in.", She said and shrugged her shoulders. Raihan grinned slightly and folded his arms behind his neck.

"Only if you sleep in my sleeping bag." Was the devious answer. "To what extent is that giving in for YOU?" Taiko asked now and crossed her arms in front of her chest. The two just looked at each other for a few moments before Raihan sighed in defeat. "Well, let's make a compromise.", He said, which made Taiko sit up and take notice. “It gets darn cold here at night anyway. If we cuddle up a little ... together, we can both sleep in the sleeping bag and the body heat prevents us from half-freezing to death. "

His suggestion made Taiko look shocked. He wasn't really serious, was it? She didn't know this boy at all. But now that he said it, it was actually quite fresh. "..."

"You can of course also become a living Vanillite if you prefer that.", Raihan said and spread out the sleeping bag. "Okay, okay. It's only for one night. ", She gave in, whereupon Raihan had to laugh again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next morning, Taiko's parents and some of the wild area staff members went to the location of forest that Raihan had described for them. It wasn't long before they found the tent, which was guarded by a Duraludon. “This is Raihan’s tent. It has to be. " Pascal remaked, before Taikos parents ran to the tent. "Taiko ?!"

Taiko blinked, she was still half asleep when she yawned and snuggled into something warm. This warmth moved slightly, from which the redhead woke up. She wiped away the sleep on her eyes and then saw how she was snuggled up against Raihan, her legs tangled and his arms pressed her to his chest.

The girl quickly broke away from him and Raihan woke up too. "Woah?"

The redhead ignored him and let her mother hug her tightly.

"What kind of things are you doing?" Her mother scolded her. "I'm sorry .. really .." the girl apologized and was then pulled into a hug by her father. "Never do that again," he said then. "You're hurt, aren't you? I'll carry you back. ", He said then and wanted to pick her up. "Wait, dad ..!" Taiko stopped him and then turned to Raihan. She made a beckoning hand gesture that signaled him to come closer. "Thanks again for everything, Raihan. I hope to see you again. ", She smiled and hugged him goodbye. Raihan smiled and hugged back. “Well, if you ever want to visit Galar again, you are always welcome. Until then, I'm champion and you can visit me in my palace. ”He laughed. "The champion lives in a palace?" Taiko asked and her eyes widened greatly.

"I dunno, but definitely!", Raihan laughed then, whereupon Taiko had to laugh too. "Well, see you at some point, hopefully. And take care of yourself, you risk-of-injury. ", He said teasingly.

Taiko was then carried back to the campsite and was even allowed to keep Scorbunny.

And what should she say?

5 years later, she set foot in Galar again after her divorced mother wanted to start a new life over there and Taiko seized the opportunity and followed her to see the cute boy from back then again.

#Chronicles of Galar #Leon #leon pokemon #pokemon leon #pkmn leon #champion leon #raihan #pokemon raihan #gym leader raihan #raihan pokemon #Leon x Reader #Pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon shsw

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lvllns · 3 years

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it don't matter to me (wherever we are is where i wanna be) [2/3]

the wayhaven chronicles. felix hauville x kincaid anderson (nb detective). teen and up rating for language. established relationship, mostly fluff with some angst. 2300+ words. (3700+ words total.) — i can be your lucky penny, you can be my four-leaf clover, chapter 2 of 3.

notes: horses! felix! kincaid! somft!

[ao3 link]

—

The walk to the barn doesn’t take nearly as long as Felix expects, it’s not as far from the house as it looks.

Kincaid chatters the whole way, mindless nonsense about the ranch mostly. Felix learns that they breed beef cattle in addition to horses, and some cows specifically for roping. He didn’t think there were specific cows for roping and when he says as much, Kincaid obliges him by explaining the importance of docile cows for rodeo. But apparently, they need to be hazed and seasoned too? They have to get used to horses and people milling about.

Really, maybe the walk doesn’t take as long as he thinks because Kincaid refuses to stop talking.

(Felix is so grateful for him. For the way he seems intent on filling the quiet with whatever he can.)

(He keeps squeezing Kincaid’s hand, grinning when the taller man pauses for a second mid-sentence to look at him with a smile.)

“Anyway, that’s—” Kincaid is cut off with a soft noise. Felix is jerked to a stop as Kincaid freezes in place, eyes going wide as saucers.

“Babe?”

Kincaid shivers. Breaks out of whatever weird trance he’s in and says, “I think that’s Leo.” He whistles. “Mare?”

Another sound, louder this time. A whinny, if Felix remembers right.

And then a red head pokes over a nearby stall door, fuzzy ears straining forward. Her face is mostly grey, but a big white star in the middle of her forehead is still clearly visible.

Felix starts toward her. Ends up dragging Kincaid along because he seems shocked to see her. They get close enough to touch and she immediately, without hesitation, whacks Kincaid in the chest with her entire head. He grunts at the impact but just leans down to touch his forehead to hers.

“You seem surprised to see her,” Felix says quietly, not wanting to break the moment.

Kincaid exhales heavily. Doesn’t lift his face as he starts scratching her neck. “She’s thirty-one years old. It’s just...a lot, to see her again.”

Ah.

That’s it.

Felix slips an arm around Kincaid’s waist. Leans into his side and kisses his shoulder before resting his head against his bicep.

“Anyway,” Kincaid says as he clears his throat. His eyes are shiny with tears and Felix reaches up to wipe a few from his cheeks. Leo has clearly had enough because she whacks Kincaid with her head again, ears flicking back and forth. He rolls his eyes. “Felix, Leo. Leo, Felix.”

Despite all the new white hairs, she looks almost the same as she does in the pictures scattered around Kincaid’s apartment. Where she’s shiny as a copper penny with saddles, buckles, and ribbons around her. Where she’s belly deep in a river, Kincaid sitting on her without any tack. An entire life story between the two of them laid out in photographs on apartment walls, and now Felix is able to meet her.

She extends her nose, nostrils flaring as she sniffs Felix. He chuckles. Reaches out and pets her muzzle.

“Oh, she’s soft!” Felix steps closer, hand moving to scratch at her forehead. She presses into his touch with a quiet snuffle, upper lip wiggling. He can feel Kincaid’s thumb moving over the back of his neck, something repetitive and soothing. “I like her.”

Kincaid laughs. “Good, ‘m glad.” Leo, apparently tired of being pet, snorts and then turns back to the hay in the corner. Kincaid leans on the stall door, elbows crossed. “Real glad you got to meet ‘er.”

Felix slips a hand into Kincaid’s back pocket. “Me too.” He bumps his hip against Kincaid. Grins up at him when he looks over.

“Come on, let’s go put our bag upstairs,” Kincaid says, voice gone soft. He reaches out. Takes Felix’s hand in his and kisses his knuckles. His palm. His wrist. Right over his pulse where it thunders against his skin. “Someone’ll come lookin’ for us soon I’m sure.”

He nods. Tugs and pulls until Kincaid leans down and kisses him, smiling into it. One becomes two and then three before Felix pulls away. He can hear footsteps, the crunch of gravel underneath boots, and he tells Kincaid as much. They slip into a room full of various pieces of tack, saddles and bridles hanging neatly along the walls, and then he’s being led up a set of stairs. The door at the top swings open and—

“Holy shit,” Felix mutters, eyes wide. Kincaid snorts, head tilting to the side. “It’s as big as your place.”

“Were you expectin’ a closet?” He tosses the bag down on a dining chair.

Felix looks around and shrugs. “Nothing like this, that’s for sure.”

It’s huge. Bright. Modern even. It’s an actual apartment above the barn and not some tiny room with a cot. The windows are open, fresh air and sunlight streaming in, and he takes another deep breath.

Somewhere below, a horse whinnies. Kincaid hums and takes Felix’s hand again, lacing their fingers together. “Ready to meet everyone else?”

“Hell yeah.”

Kincaid grins, dimples visible, and they head down back into the barn. They’re barely out of the tack room when: “There he is!”

An older man, hair and beard gone mostly grey, is standing in the middle of the aisleway, a grin on his face. Kincaid’s face breaks as he smiles wide, so wide, and Felix half expects him to rush off alone but he keeps Felix close to his side.

“Good to see you, kid,” the man says. He shifts, leans his shoulder against the wall. “Been a bit.”

Kincaid snorts. “Month or so, yeah.” He finally drops Felix’s hand so he can all but swallow the other man in a hug. It’s brief, a few pats on the back, and then Kincaid is back at his side, hand finding his once more. “Jason, this is Felix. Felix, Jason.”

Jason nods. Holds out his hand and Felix isn’t the tiniest bit surprised to find it rough and calloused, when he takes it. “Glad to finally meet you. Kincaid never stops talkin’ ‘bout you.”

“Oh?” He turns, brow arched, and finds Kincaid looking straight ahead, cheeks pink. “Good things, I hope.”

“Never a bad word.” Another smile but it’s...something. Knowing, Felix thinks. Like Jason is seeing things Kincaid and Felix are too close to each other to notice. It makes his heart trip in his chest. “Anyway, everyone else is grabbin’ horses, and we’ve got some steers that need seasoning. You wanna bulldog, kid?”

And oh, the way Kincaid lights up. Every bit of him flares like a firework. Still, he squeezes Felix’s hand and shakes his head. “I’m happy watchin’, don’t wanna leave Felix by himself.”

Felix blinks. “Oh no, nope.” Kincaid startles. Looks at him with wide eyes, confused. “We drove all the way out here, you have all those pictures hanging up, I want to see you in action.”

It’s delightful the way his partner goes bright red from the tips of his ears down his neck. Felix knows from experience he’s a full body blusher. Knows that his chest is red with it, freckles vanishing beneath the flood of color.

“You sure?” Kincaid shuffles his feet. “I really don’t want you to feel left out or—”

“God you two,” Jason mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You wanna ride, Felix?”

“What?” Now it’s his turn to be confused. “Like...a horse?”

Jason snorts. Rolls his eyes to stare at the ceiling for a moment before he meets Felix’s eyes. “Yeah, we have broke horses here. If you want to, we can get one tacked up for you.”

“Yes!” Felix smiles wide, grip tightening where he’s still holding Kincaid’s hand. “Please!” He rocks on the balls of his feet.

“That’s settled then.” Jason turns to Kincaid. Squeezes his shoulder briefly before letting go. “Sailor is two stalls down from Leo, grab him for Felix. You get French Fry.”

Felix is so stuck on a horse being named French Fry that he misses the last part of the conversation. Kincaid tugs on his hand and they head down the barn aisle until they reach a stall with a big grey horse in it. It’s quick work, a soft cluck and the creaking of metal as the stall is unlocked, and then Felix is holding a rope in his hands with Sailor on the other end.

Kincaid gets them both situated near the tack room, Felix’s ride for the day standing quietly with one hind leg cocked, eyes half-closed, as he brushes him. He watches as Kincaid mutters to himself. Picks up different bits of tack before setting it back down. There’s a pile growing outside near where the horses are tied up. Boots, blanket things to go under the saddle, really confusing tangles of leather that Felix thinks goes on the horse’s face.

It’s a lot of stuff he doesn’t quite understand yet, pieces of Kincaid’s life that remind Felix he’s new here. A recent development. Part of him is yelling that he’s an interloper, he shouldn’t be here and he’s only making it more difficult for Kincaid.

He shakes his head. Grits his teeth and chases that train of thought far, far away, as he focuses on listening to Kincaid’s explanation of each piece of equipment. Kincaid’s own horse is alert, ears pricked forward and eyes tracking the taller man. He’s also a gleaming gold with bright white hair, a big white stripe down his face, and white on all four of his legs.

They talk about everything and nothing as Kincaid gets both horses tacked up. Felix wolf whistles when he throws the saddles up onto the horses, and is rewarded with one flying right off the opposite side of Sailor, hitting the dirt with a thud. By the end of it, Kincaid’s face is pink, his eyes blown, and Felix knows he’s been staring at his arms for too long. There’s a thread of tension, something wavering just a little, and it almost snaps except someone yells Kincaid’s name and the moment is gone.

Felix is walking around the arena on a big grey horse, and he feels...he feels like he belongs here. That part of him insisting that he should be back in Wayhaven is silent now. Kincaid is at his side, helping Felix adjust his position so his feet aren’t sticking way out in front of him, and he’s grateful for the boots Kincaid had bought him a few months ago. Jason had smiled at him. Another younger man, Jordan, had waved. Someone else had given him a thumbs up, and he’s trying to keep names straight with faces but he can’t help getting distracted by the warm feeling at how quickly he’s been accepted into this family.

He reaches down to pat Sailor’s neck before he turns his head to look (up, it’s still up) at Kincaid. “Shouldn’t you go, I don’t know, run around a little bit?”

Kincaid snorts. “Yeah, I gotta warm ‘im up, but I just want to make sure you’re okay first.”

Felix flaps a hand at him. “I’m fine. Sailor’s no unicorn, but he likes me so I don’t think I’ll get kicked off.”

“You need me, just holler,” Kincaid says.

It takes another nod, another promise to tell him if he needs anything at all, before Kincaid speeds up and leaves Felix to himself. It’s nice, really, being able to slowly meander around and observe. He’s always enjoyed that. Watching. He’s Unit Bravo’s infiltration expert for a reason after all. There’s a flow to everything here. Horses moving around each other, cattle banging around in the pens and gates. People shouting back and forth, good-natured ribbing. It reminds him of Unit Bravo. Of the way they’ve all come together over the last few years.

He’s watching Kincaid lope around, smiling and laughing, and Felix is so lost in him that he doesn’t even realize Jason is riding next to him until the older man clears his throat. Felix jolts, careful not to yank the reins, and flashes the man a sheepish smile.

“He’s a good person,” Jason says with a nod toward Kincaid.

Felix can’t stop his eyes from drifting back to his partner. “He is. He’s something really special.”

“I don’t know what he’s all told you about his childhood, but he...had a time of it.”

“He’s told me a bit. Not all of it, I don’t think, but...enough.”

Jason hums. “He used to drive out here every chance he could after we moved the family here.” Felix blinks. It’s hours to get here. Hours. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinkin’, and yeah. Hell, he’d show up on Friday evening and wouldn’t leave until late Sunday night. Then he left for college and he still drove out here once a week, at least.” Jason turns in his saddle to look Felix in the eyes. “He’s a part of this family, a big part, and he’s never brought anyone here. Ever.”

Felix swallows as he pulls Sailor to a halt. “I…”

“This ain’t me tryin’ to scare you, son, this is me tellin’ you that you’re part of this family now too.” Jason eases his horse to a stop, a gentle smile on his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that kid this happy.”

Well.

He doesn’t know what to do with this. Felix looks down at his hands. Finds them shaking, just a little bit. He curls his fingers around the reins and nods. “Thank you.”

A hand claps down on his shoulder. Squeezes and stays put as Jason says, “‘Course.” He grins, wide and toothy. “Now, come on. They’re gonna start throwin’ steers and you need a front row seat for this.”

Felix smiles up at him. Squeezes his legs until Sailor dutifully follows after the other horse. He watches Kincaid haul himself up onto his horse from the ground, eyes watching his shoulders and back, before he blinks and settles in to watch.

When Kincaid winks at him from the chute, cheeks a little pink and heart racing beneath his ribs, something settles in Felix’s chest, and he feels at peace.

#the wayhaven chronicles #writing tag #long post #c: kincaid anderson #felix x kincaid #caiti.txt #i've rewritten this like 6 times i'm sick of it take it dasjfkgnsdjka #me taking more liberties with the detective's backstory:

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4wrtsnetex · 3 years

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five-hxrgreeves · 3 years

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I Won’t Back Down - Five Hargreeves x OC

Word Count: 1,385

You can stand me up at the gates of hell But I won't back down I'm gonna stand my ground Won't be turned around And I'll keep this world from dragging me down

1 | 2 | 3 |

Pt. 2- The Last 6 Days Until Apocalypse II, 2019

The next few days passed much the same as they always did. School was indeterminable boredom and after was a blur of time. It was nights that Lola really lived for. She wasn’t sure why but the dark, mysterious blackness that covered everything was so much more intriguing than the bright daylight. It helped spur her mind into its most aggressive thinking, it sped her heart up as she made her daily route to the large, unused library, it made her eyes strain to the best of their ability to see outlines in the blackness.

Now, don’t get her wrong- she was a fan of the light. She needed it to write, to see distinctly, but the quiet calm that came with the night was something so few people experienced in a world of billions that it made it more special to her. She didn’t think she’d ever like complete blackness, though.

The dark of night allowed her some cover as she slipped quietly into the Umbrella Academy’s library, her feet soft and quiet on the wooden floor. By now, she knew the layout by heart and made her way easily to the last place she’d taken books from and zipped open her bag carefully, extracting both volumes. While they hadn’t been extremely interesting, she’d liked learning from them as much as all the other books she’d borrowed from the library.

Lola quietly slid out the next two. One was a thick, bound leather book and she could feel the embossed gold on the cover as she slid it gently into her bag. The books on the shelf fell with a muted thump as the space became available and she winced but no one came, as usual. She moved to the next one, which was slimmer and a regular hardcover, its contents remaining a mystery until she could read them in the light.

After zipping her bag back up, she crept back down the stairs and made her way towards her usual escape except- she bumped into a soft-bodied figure and nearly screamed.

“Who-who’s there?” a light, airy voice called out, “are you a ghost?”

Her pulse picked up and Lola’s voice came out in a stutter as she said, “y-yes. O-of course,” then, feeling the need to be more ghost-like, she gave a fake, quiet moan, “wwoooohhh, my spirit is restless,” she sang in whisper.

A hand gently hit her face and brushed up and down as if petting her, “there, there, ghostie. Don’t bother me now.”

She leaned away from the man’s touch and scrambled for what to do next, but then the man seemed to freeze, “why’re you solid, ghost?”

“Uh- I’m special?” she tried, wincing at the lame answer. Luckily, the man seemed accept this and nodded, “okay, well, don’t follow me to bed. I’m open to many things but ghost sex is stretching it,” he gave an exaggerated shudder and stumbled past her, clumsily patting her on the shoulder.

Lola’s face burned bright red and she was glad it was too dark to see. After he left, she hastily made her way to the open window and slipped out, breathing a sigh of relief when her feet landed on the grass. His kids must have come back for the funeral, she thought as she made her way home. He’d spoken about ghosts, so it- it must’ve been The Séance.

She hoped he wouldn’t tell his siblings what had happened- that wouldn’t bode well for her. Luckily, he hadn’t seen her face and he also hadn’t seemed to be completely there, so he probably wouldn’t remember.

After school on Friday found Lola walking down the main street towards her father’s store. Now that it was the weekend, she didn’t need to be picked up and hurried home from school so she could start her homework. The local bookstore caught her eye and her father’s words echoed in her ears about the Hargreeves’ autobiography.

The bell jingled as she entered the shop and a female assistant made her way to the dark-haired girl to greet her, “good afternoon! Is there anything in particular you need help finding today?”

Lola gave her a smile and nodded, “yes, actually. I’m looking for an autobiography. Its, um, by someone of the last name Hargreeves.”

The woman’s smile flickered for a moment before broadening, “of course, right this way! We’ve moved them towards the back now that they’re not popular sellers. I think we still have a few copies, though.”

Sure enough, in the back of the non-fiction section the name Hargreeves stood out like a sore thumb, at least in Lola’s opinion. The book was titled Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven. The brunette slid a copy off the shelf and turned it over to read the summary on the back. There seemed to be a surprising amount about the woman’s- Vanya’s- family contained in the book.

“Will that be all?” the attendant asked.

She gave a nod, “yes, thank you.”

“Alright, dear, I can check you out at the counter.”

Lola followed the employee back to the front and made her purchase using her saved-up allowance money. Most of it was used for notebooks, writing utensils or additional book-buying so she had enough saved to purchase Vanya’s book. After leaving the shop, she made her way to the local diner, Griddy’s, texting her uncle of her change of plans.

Once there, she sat at the bar where an elderly woman came to greet her, “hello, dear, what can I get for you?”

Lola eyed the treats behind the counter thoughtfully, “classic glazed, please, Agnes,” she added her name after reading the woman’s tag.

“Of course, one moment,” Agnes said cheerfully and turned to complete her order.

She set the doughnut down in front of the girl, “if you need anything else just give a holler.”

Lola nodded in thanks and cracked open her new book, eager to read a professional autobiography. While she had studied some for research it had been awhile since she’d seriously read one.

My name is Vanya Hargreeves and this is my story it started out and the brunette smiled slightly at the similar openings. Pulling her pencil from behind her ear, she jotted down a note in the margin before continuing.

We were never a real family. We were our father’s creation, family in name, but not in fact. In the end, after our brother Ben had died, there was really nothing connecting us. We were just strangers living under the same roof, destined to be alone, starved for attention, damaged by our upbringing, and haunted by what might-have-been. We all wanted to be loved by a man incapable of giving love. Our father never missed the opportunity to remind me that I was ordinary, a hard thing for a little girl to hear. If you’re raised to believe that nothing about you is special, if the benchmark is extraordinary, what do you do if you’re not?

Lola sat at the counter as minutes slipped passed, slowly eating away at her doughnut and reading Vanya’s book, occasionally scribbling between the lines as she wrote notes for herself. As she read, she realized she liked Vanya’s writing style. The woman didn’t write daily stories and chronicle her life as if everything was significant but she also didn’t write the major events like they were items on a grocery list to be ticked off once they were written. Instead, she wrote in a way that made the objective viewer feel as if they were actually there, experiencing Vanya’s life. The brunette supposed that this is why the book lost popularity; some of the moments were too raw, too painful, to want to go back and reread and live through again.

Sometime later, her phone buzzed in her pocket, causing her to jump in surprise. The book lay before her more than half-read, pages wrinkled and dirty from pencil smudges and sugar from her sticky fingers as she’d turned the pages, hardly looking like a newly-bought book. Reaching into her pocket, the girl checked her text which was her uncle wondering where she was. Looking outside in surprise, she realized the sun was setting.

“Shit,” she breathed, hurriedly packing up her things. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get too much of an earful.

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prolestariwrites · 4 years

Photo

The Wish [2]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 2, in which Dante hunts for clues and to who he is, and where he is, when he reconnects with a long-lost relative.

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Chapter 2: Pictures and Clues

Dante spends a full ten minutes just sitting on the bed in his underwear. He reviews every step of the night before: Nero texting him about this job, catching the train to Fortuna, the two of them driving out to the warehouse with the radio blaring and picking up burgers on the way. Then the demons, dozens upon dozens, that weren't difficult but packed to the brim so that when they pried open the front door of the building they swarmed like roaches.

He had found the queen at the top, but there it gets fuzzy. It talked to him, but about what? Something about his family? Every time he gets to that part, his headache turns a little sharper, so Dante decides to give thinking a rest so he can figure out where the hell he actually is.

His jeans are slung over a chair so he grabs them and fishes inside for his cell phone. It's different from the one he normally has, and he frowns as he turns it on and finds a passcode. He tries the first thing he can think of—1, 2, 3, 4, easy enough—and luckily it works. Quickly he dials Nero's number, but isn't really surprised when the automated voice comes on the line to tell him that number is not in service.

Dante scratches the back of his head. He's here, in a strange house with a woman who knows his parents, and Nero is… somewhere. Got it.

But then he wonders if something might have happened to Nero. What if he needs his help? Then this has got to be a dream, right? So how does he wake up?

Once he pulls his jeans on and finds a t-shirt in the other set of drawers, he tries the door. Cautiously he opens it, but the house is quiet, so Dante slips into the hallway. There are two other bedrooms and a bathroom which look suspiciously normal. Even the closets are tidy, and Dante snorts when he gets to the linen closet. This must be a dream. Who owns so many towels?

Next, he heads downstairs to the main floor. At the bottom is a living room, complete with a comfortable-looking sofa and a big-screen television. Dante stands in front of it and admires it for a minute before grabbing the remote control. He lets out a low whistle when he sees the picture quality, thinking if this is a dream, he's got good taste.

That demon's got good taste.

Dante shakes his head and continues his search. A small dining room is to the left, and to the right is a hallway leading to another half bath. The kitchen is nice too, the dishwasher humming and a pot of coffee warm on the counter. Even the refrigerator is stocked, and Dante helps himself to a piece of chicken he finds in a plastic container, figuring he can eat whatever he wants in a dream.

Out the kitchen window he can see a little backyard, and Dante sighs as he leans against the counter and chews thoughtfully. It's a nice enough house, something any ordinary couple might buy for a starter home. He glances down at the gold band on his finger, holding it up so he can examine it closely. Setting the chicken down, he wipes his hand on his jeans and slips it off, turning it over until he notices an inscription on the inside: Dante and Lir Forever.

He pictures the cute blonde who was half his size but acted more than familiar. "Lir," he murmurs out loud, slipping the ring back on as he looks around.

Wandering back through the house, Dante notices some pictures sitting on the windowsill in the living room. He walks over and picks up the first one, his face going a bit pale. He is in a suit, and that woman‚ Lir, is in a wedding dress. They are posed and smiling in front of a cake, holding a knife together as if to cut it. He turns it over but there's nothing out of the ordinary about it, and Dante snorts as he sets it back down again.

The next few are of them as well: a selfie in winter gear, posing in what Patty would call "Sunday attire", in bathing suits at a beach, arms around each other and grinning at the camera. He's gotta admit, they look pretty good together. His brain did a good job dreaming this girl up.

The next photo, however, feels like a punch to the gut. It's a double-sided frame on a hinge, and on one side it's him and a man who looks exactly like him, only his hair is slicked back instead of hanging in fringes around his face. In fact, he looks exactly like what Vergil would look like. If he was still alive.

Dante's hand shakes as he examines the picture. It is Vergil, it's got to be, the same slightly slimmer build and the half-inch in height that made it possible to tell them apart. The only thing that shocks him more than seeing this picture is the one opposite. Across from Dante and Vergil posed with small smiles is Vergil and Lady, her hand in his arm as they smile into the camera.

Gripping the picture frame, he grabs the next one and braces himself. Staring up at him are two people he somewhat recognizes, as if he had seen them in a dream. They are older, in their 60s maybe, the man grinning with his arm around his wife, sitting together on a couch. He has longish silver hair, not unlike Dante's, a pair of glasses hanging around his neck. Her blonde hair is swept up into a bun, streaks of white only making her more dignified, her hand on the man's knee. Dante brings the picture up so close his nose nearly touches it, and that's when he realizes that the woman is a dead ringer for Trish, if Trish was about 40 years older.

His cell phone rings in his pocket, startling him out of his examination. Dante fumbles for the phone but freezes when he sees the name Vergil appear on the screen. It takes another three rings before he gets the courage to answer. "Yeah?"

"Did I wake you or something?"

Dante staggers to the couch and sits heavily, still clutching the two pictures in his hands. He knew what to expect, but nothing could have prepared him for hearing that voice on the other end. "Dante," it says again. "You there?"

"Y-yeah," he stammers, his voice cracking around a dry throat. "Verge, is that you?"

"Of course it's me. I want to talk about tonight." Dante's eyes close as he listens, trying not to freak out. Even Vergil's exasperation for him is the same. "I'm paying for dinner, and I don't want to hear anything about it. We need to settle this now so we don't argue at the restaurant."

"What uh…" Dante's mind is spinning and he shakes his head to clear it. "Yeah uh, Lir mentioned something about a dinner. Do you know Lir?"

"I'm surprised you forgot, Dante. Usually you remember these sorts of things." Dante leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he tries to breathe. "This dinner tonight is important and I don't want a scene. Just let me pay for it, and afterward we can agree on how you'll pay me back your half. Agreed?"

Dante swallows thickly. "Yeah, yeah that's fine. Vergil. Vergil."

Even saying his name gives Dante the shivers. "Well I expected more of an argument. Glad you're going to listen to reason. Don't be late."

"Wait, Verge?" Dante looks down at the picture in his hand, something hot and tight tickling his throat. "Can I see you? Can you come over?"

"What for? I'll be seeing you tonight, and I have the kids. Are you sick? Where's Lir?"

"She covered a shift," Dante replies. "Please, Verge, I got… I need to say some things."

"Well say it tonight. I'm not driving all the way over there when I'll see you in a few hours."

Dante chuckles, swallowing tears as his breath escapes in a laugh. "Okay. Yeah. Hey uh, is mom and dad… they really gonna be there? At this dinner thing?"

There is a long pause, and then Vergil huffs, "Don't be stupid," before hanging up on him.

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The rest of the afternoon Dante spends figuring out his life. He finds photo albums in the closet, handmade scrapbooks that Lir definitely made. They chronicle some of their vacations, and he smiles as he turns the pages to see them camping, at the beach, at Disneyworld. The wedding one makes him wince a bit, the smiling faces of his brother and his parents making something in his chest tight. The date on the preserved invitation tells him they've been married about ten years, which is pretty funny since the longest relationship he's ever had was about ten minutes after getting dressed.

He looks weird in a suit, and Dante snorts to think what Lady or Trish would say if they saw him. But Lady is there, on Vergil's arm, and that is a mystery he can't wait to solve. And Trish kind of is there, in the form of his mother, looking slightly older but just as lovely.

There is a drawer in the desk in the office that has some bills, and he boots up the computer to take a look through. The email is pretty normal, receipts from online orders and utility companies, messages from the family and people he doesn't know. There is a link to a bank account and Dante's brows lift to see the balance. Compared to his normal finances, the amount seems like a small fortune.

There must be something a god of fortune can give you.

A cat appears suddenly, jumping onto the desk and stalking across the keyboard to plop across his arms. Dante pulls back in reaction, which earns him a very annoyed look from the cat. "Hey uh, there," he says, tentatively reaching out to pat its head.

The cat snaps at him, and Dante rolls his eyes. He never got along with animals as a rule. "So you want to sit on my computer as I'm using it but I can't pet you, hm?" he grumbles. The cat yawns in response, so he decides to go find lunch instead.

There's not much more to discover after having a sandwich. His life seems completely ordinary, although he doesn't know exactly what he does or even if he's still in Red Grave City. The other question still to solve is Nero. If Vergil is alive and married to Lady, then does Nero even exist? His face goes a bit hot to think of the kid not being around. But Vergil had mentioned kids on the phone… is it possible?

He is dozing on the couch and watching television when the door bursts open. Dante is on his feet and reaching for his guns that aren't there when Lir hurries in, her arms filled with dry cleaning as she comes like a whirlwind into the living room. "I'm so sorry I'm late! I can't believe I got stuck there! I told them I couldn't stay, and now look at the time!"

She pushes the clothes and plastic into his arms and pulls her cell phone from her purse. "Did you take a shower yet? You still need to shave. You are going to shave, right? You can't look like a sasquatch at the party."

Lir looks up at him expectantly, and Dante shrugs. "Yeah, I guess?"

"Good. Wait. Are you okay?" She steps up and presses a hand to his forehead. "You were sick this morning. How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," he assures her. "I had a weird dream."

She smiles, and his heart actually skips a beat. His brain is good. "Good. Did you feed Claudius?"

"Claudius?"

"Yes. The cat." Lir laughs and pats his chest. "Was he a problem today?"

Dante thinks about the cat that interrupted his computer search. "No. And no, I didn't feed him."

"Okay. I'll take care of it. You go shower and get dressed. And don't take too much off, you know I prefer a bit of facial hair." She takes the dry cleaning from his arms and pulls one of the hangers to hand back to him. "Here's your shirt and pants. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Yeah." He watches her step around him, draping the rest of the clothes over the back of a chair before disappearing into the kitchen. If this is a dream, it's more vivid than any he can remember.

The shower feels good, even if Dante is amazed by how many things are on the shelves. He's never lived with a girl but is there anything needed really other than a bar of soap? In one of the drawers under the sink he finds a shaving kit and goes to work before the shower fixing up his face just like she asked. It occurs to Dante that this is his dream and he can do whatever he wants, but something makes him not want to disappoint her, so he makes sure to leave a nicely trimmed beard while removing the rest from his cheeks and neck. Once the shower is hot, he goes for the least-strange sounding soaps before finishing up and drying off with a nice fluffy towel.

He peeks into the bedroom and finds it empty. Quickly he hurries over to the bureau and opens the top drawer, rummaging around for some underwear. Dante just has his first foot in when Lir enters, and he yelps when he sees her. "Hey! I'm getting dressed!" he protests.

She freezes and looks at him in surprise as he pulls his boxer briefs up. "Yeah. I see that." With a laugh she moves to the closet and hangs the rest of the dry cleaning up before disappearing into the bathroom.

Dante frowns before he remembers, they are married. He rubs his hand on his face with an internal groan. He is going to have to get used to this as long as this dream or whatever lasted, including being half-dressed in front of her. While she's gone he quickly pulls on the dark slacks and gray dress shirt before heading to the closet. He finds some black dress shoes he figures Lir will like, and once he's all ready he stands and looks at himself in the full-length mirror that is propped against the wall.

Dante barely recognizes himself without the low-slung denim and some red leather, but he figures he still looks pretty good. As long as he looks better than Vergil, he'll be satisfied, chuckling to himself at the thought. But then he sobers a bit as his stomach turns, wondering what it will be like to see Vergil again. The last time was on Mallet Island, and before that, watching him fall off the Temen-ni-gru. Did that even happen in this place? There had to be a Temen-ni-gru if Lady was here, right? He shakes his head, confused as ever. He needs to figure this out, and fast.

Lir steps past him, again dressed in only a bra and panties, and Dante quickly looks the other way as she pulls her dress over her head. "Will you get this zipper?" she asks as she steps into a pair of heels.

Clearing his throat, he steps up behind her and carefully pulls the zipper up as she smooths her hands down the front. It's a sleeveless blue little number that fits her just right, and when she turns around to fix his collar he admires how nice she looks. "Okay," Lir smiles. "You ready to go? Dinner with the family is always interesting."

Dinner with the family. "Yeah, I'm ready," he grins. Maybe the mystery-solving can wait until after seeing them again at least. Couldn't hurt, right?

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc oc #dante sparda #vergil sparda #fan fiction #the wish #myfic

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