#where i get to feel everything ive hidden from and enjoy fully everything i was too sad too as a kid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caramelcal · 3 years

Text

His Favorite Girl

a/n: HELLO. (sounding like the guy in the cinema cba lol) anyways I have returned for a brief period of time to share this update with you guys. It’s based off of this request here: “ Do you think you could write a Luke x gang again where maybe he has to leave for work during sex and the reader touches herself out of frustration and he comes back and finds her ?”

STOP BECAUSE THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT THE REQUESTER WANTED BUT ILL WRITE SOMETHING AGAIN BUT LIKE JUST TH REQUEST IF THATS WHAT YOU GUYS WANT SDGHGDFGBH but this is kinda a part 2 to the Bambi/His Favorite Secret series thingy cause a few people wanted that! thank you guys so much for all the love mwah

i should literally be studying rn but im not so <3 im very sorry for this abomination lol

sorry for the long a/n guys! :( enjoy x

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smutty stuff (fucking, fingering, anal and all that...ive never written this before so PLS PLS PLS give me feedback omg) uh choking, doesn’t have a daddy kink in this but sir is mentioned. talks of being tied up and being tied up? talks about overstim... he calls her little girl at one point...

“Luke! Stop moving!” She lightly slapped her boyfriend’s hand, to which he groaned in return. Her tongue stuck out slightly from between her lips in concentration, eyebrows furrowing as she returned to the task she had firmly put her mind to. That was, until the blond giant moved again, “Luke!”

“Bambi,” Luke echoed lightly, using his nickname for the smaller girl in front of him who looked up at him with an unimpressed facial expression.

“You’re gonna ruin it,” She mumbled lightly, pointing back down at her artwork which Luke only then first looked at. It was safe to say, although he shouldn’t have been, he was thoroughly shocked.

His nails, which his girl had somehow managed to convince him into painting weren’t black, or blue. No, they were bright, blasting, hot pink. He groaned lightly, wondering just how exactly she had managed to rope him into this and just how he was going to hide his nails from the rest of the gang later on tonight when he -they- met up with them tonight.

She was a bundle of both nerves and excitement, finally getting to meet Luke’s closest friends. It had been about a week since their argument, and now she was meeting his friends. It seemed like everything was moving in the right direction, thankfully. She couldn’t wait to be honest, very much looking forward to being able to hear more about Luke from his friends, and just meeting them in general.

They seemed fun.

Well, as fun as gang members could be. She probably should have been more cautious surrounding them, but Luke got her guard down so quickly and she was yet to regret that. How scary could they possibly be considering the man in front of her, soft blond curls held back by her bunny bath headband, nails painted hot pink, was supposed to be the scariest man in the whole city.

“Cal’s gonna rip the piss outta me for this, Bambi,” He complained softly, with no plans to take the polish off of his nails as he looked at his girlfriend, between his legs, small hand wrapped around the bottle of nail polish with her other hand laying against his knee.

She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips as she blew softly against the nail polish on his fingernails, not patient enough to let it airdry despite it being a fast-drying polish. She shrugged lightly, head flopping to the side adorably as Luke stared down at her, resisting the urge to run his hands through her hair; another issue he had with the wet paint on his fingernails.

“I think it looks great, we’re matching,” She then flaunted the bright pink color that coated her own nails, and Luke’s lips twitched into a grin, careful not to ‘aww’ at the cute words that came out of the smaller girl’s mouth.

He hummed lightly, leaning back against the couch but his baby blues never leaving her face, “They look a lot better on you than they do me, Bambi.”

“I think they’re cute,” The girl climbed onto his lap, making Luke take a deep intake of breath as she sits barely an inch away from a rather sensitive area of his. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to the risen area of his jeans as she leaned against his chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck, soft breaths from her mouth fanning against his neck.

He twisted to give her a small kiss on the forehead, to which she responds by kissing his neck softly, lips staying against his neck as her hand traveled up his stomach up to his neck, holding him close as she began to kiss the base of his neck more.

“Lu,” She whispered softly, “How much time have we got?”

“Like an hour, baby. Why?”

However, the girl never replied verbally, and instead repositioned herself carefully, Luke’s neck void from her warmth before her hand started to travel down, painfully slow, until it landed right above the tent in his jeans. His eyes traveled up to meet hers, eyebrow raised as she dropped her hand down barely, lips struggling to pull the smirk away.

He lifted his hands to her back, going to reposition her before she shook her head, “Your nail polish, Lu. Hands down.”

His hands didn’t move, frozen in place around her clothed waist. His nails were long since dried, she knew that, but she liked this. She liked the intake of breath he took when her hand ghosted over the hardened cock in his jeans, the way he couldn’t lift his hands; scared to smudge the pink on his nails.

He was restricted. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Her hand gently palmed against his hardened, clothed cock, causing a grumble to emit from his throat. It was a deep rumbling sound, -something that the girl had heard numerous times but would never get used to.

To her, everything about Luke was perfect, even his moans.

“Bambi, you know the rules about teasing-”

Her lips attached to his, cutting him off rather efficiently, pressing softly as she continued to palm him through his jeans, gently rocking on his thigh. He moaned into their kiss, her tongue, as a reflex, finding its way into his mouth. Their tongues pressed against one another, lips still pressed together as her spare hand crawled up to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.

Her palm pressed into his fully hardened cock now, his tongue swiping over her lips before tugging on it, pulling apart, breathless. His hands found a place on her waist, guiding her softly but firmly, taking back the control he craved.

Looking her straight in the eyes, one of Luke’s hands went around her neck, thumb pulling her lower lip down as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, taking his cock out of its confined clothing and bringing her hand down to hold onto it. It wasn’t the first time that she had given him a handjob, and it wouldn’t be the last, but she still couldn’t help but be nervous.

Despite not being a virgin when she met Luke, she still lacked a lot of experience that Luke definitely had. She knew that he would never judge her, but that never stopped the nerves that festered.

“All shy all of a sudden, Bambi?” He mocked, hand around her neck tightening as he bit down on her ear lobe, gently tugging at it before letting out a breath, “All big and brave, teasing Sir, aren’t you? If you’re going to start it, then you’re going to finish it. On your knees. Now.”

Releasing a shaky breath, the girl clambered out of Luke’s lap dropping to the floor, in a similar position to the one she had been in minutes before, only in a more sexual manner. Her lips met the tip of his cock, tongue lightly swiping across the base.

His hand grabbed firmly onto the hair on the back of her head, holding her steady as she got used to the feeling of his cock in her mouth before thrusting against her. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat, sending vibrations up him, releasing a deep moan from his throat.

“Suck, little girl,” Luke commanded deeply, leaving no room for argument as the smaller girl abided to his command, tongue swiping over him as she reached up to cover the last part of his cock with her hand.

Yet, she didn’t get much further when a ringing sounded through the room, Luke groaning but ultimately pulling away from the girl who stayed on the floor, watching Luke as he grabbed his phone.

“What?” He gritted his teeth lightly, trying to keep his frustration at bay after being interrupted.

He sighed softly, not looking at the small girl with furrowed eyebrows still on the floor as he pulled his jeans back up, clambering to get shoes on and getting ready to leave, hanging the phone up.

“Luke what’s going on?”

“Gang shit, Bambi. I gotta get going, be ready for six, we’re meeting Cal, Ash, and Mike later, remember?” He offered her no more words, but she can tell he isn’t angry at her, just due to their interruption.

However, she can’t help but be frustrated at the interruption, waiting until after Luke leaves to huff and puff about it before starting to get ready.

. . .

“Luke has this old penguin fan account on Instagram from like seven years ago. There’s this one picture on there with him with a penguin hat-”

“Cal, stop,” Luke interrupted Cal swiftly, an arm going around his smaller girlfriend’s waist who looked far too amused by the embarrassing things about Luke that Cal was telling.

“No, no, Calum please keep going. Please,” The girl begged, feeling very comfortable around the Maori boy. They were pleasant, to her at least, and so far they had made her feel very comfortable and very much at home. It was hard to believe that the people joking with her where infamous mobsters, ones that were feared all across the city, and state.

They had met in Ashton’s house, who she had already met before, at six o’clock. It turns out gang members like to be punctual, or maybe it was only these ones.

Luke was in a bit of a hurry once he arrived back home, with no time to finish what he and his girl had started before he had to leave in a hurry, leaving her oh so frustrated. This was only magnified when she saw him afterward, ready to head to Ash’s in that pale pink silk button-up that only seemed like it would suit him; like it was made specifically for him.

Maybe it was.

Luke was never shy of customized clothing, cars, or anything he wanted honestly. If you have the money, why not? Was always his answer when she asked why he seemed to wear all of these expensive items. If it wasn’t custom-made, it was a high-quality designer that he wore, she rarely ever found him in anything that didn’t smell of cash and high-class, -far too expensive but albeit intoxicating- cologne.

This money of Luke’s also happened to extend to her also. He was never shy of picking her up a few things, letting her have his card for shopping and now, he started going out shopping with her too. He didn’t look like the type that would go out with his ‘girlfriend’ or anyone, but in the case of her, he followed her around like a lost puppy; willing to hold her bags, let her drain his bank account. Not that she did, anyway. She was still mindful, even if Luke had more money than he knew what to do with.

“Nah, can’t. Don’t want Luke to kill me for embarrassing me in front of his precious little girlfriend,” Calum teased lightly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to meet Luke’s baby blues. Truthfully, Luke could pretend to be annoyed at Cal and the rest for exposing his old penguin Instagram account but he was just glad to see them getting along with the girl that owned his heart.

She was the first girlfriend that his best friends seemed to approve of. He didn’t normally bring his girlfriends to meet them, but the ones he did, the boys he called his best friends didn’t usually like them. For the first time, Luke could actually see a future with the girl in front of him, beamingly smiling as Cal and Michael joke about with her and laughing at their attempts of humor.

God, he loved her.

“So, do you think they like me?” She asked the moment they got home, the door shut behind them. Luke turned around, staring at the wide-eyed girl with a small smile on his lips.

Did she seriously not realize how much they liked her? Especially with how much joking that they had done with her, he was certain that she would have realized but then again, she wasn’t the most self-assured person when it comes to new people. He nodded his head, “Yeah, Bambi. They really liked you.”

Luke would never get over the way her eyes sparkled, his smile only growing. She looked amazing in that red silky dress that he had bought her, and he looked just as good in the coral colored button-up he was wearing.

Their lips met softly, Luke bending down slightly to meet her lips as the girl went up on her tiptoes, bare feet on the top of Luke’s shoes. He didn’t mind, in fact, he barely even realized as he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip for access which she quickly gave him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, one entangling in his blond curls, while his went around her waist and one under her ass, lifting her up.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, lips never breaking away from his as she moaned into the kiss. She pushed herself closer to him as the kiss heated up, eyes closed as Luke tried his best to navigate the way to their bedroom. Thankfully, even with his eyes partially closed and completely distracted by the soft lips on his, he managed to get there, fumbling with the doorknob before kicking the door open.

Luke pulled away quickly to get a breath, now at the edge of the bed as his mouth went to the side of her face, pressing kisses along her neck before whispering in a sinfully sultry voice, “Let’s finish what we started earlier, huh?”

With that, she was placed down on the bed, staring at Luke with a glaze in her eyes, lust, lips slightly swollen as he pushed her dress up, nudging her underwear to the side. His fingers ghosted over her pussy, making her take a ragged intake of breath. He was on top of her, watching her as she awaited every movement of his fingers, completely helpless under his touch.

“So wet for me, baby,” He murmured, pressing a few chaste kisses against the base of her neck as he rubbed her slit. She didn’t reply just yet, whining lightly when he slowed down his movements, coming to a stop, “Tell me what you want baby.”

“You, Lu. I want you, sir,” Her words flooded out of her mouth quickly, the aching between her legs becoming too much. If Luke didn’t do something about it soon then she would have to. She stared up at his smirking face above her. His fingers pulled away from her, making her whine as he reached for his belt, skillfully unbuckling it and letting his cock spring free from its confines.

He looked up at her as he repositioned himself, her squirming with need beneath him before he lined his tip at her entrance, baby blues meeting her eyes, “You sure?”

She nodded vigorously in return, but Luke didn’t move, commanding lightly, “Words, baby.”

“Please Luke, I’m sure. Please fuck me.” He swatted her thigh at the sound of the swear falling from her lips but obliged nonetheless, plunging deep into her letting out a moan, her strangled moan following behind.

He plunged in once again, hitting a spot that made her whimper and moan at the same time, hands reaching around to his back, clawing on the now exposed skin. Luke’s hips are flushed against hers as he goes deep inside of her once again, both moaning.

“Fuck, Bambi,”

Luke’s pace quickened, thrusts becoming sloppier as he continued to thrust into her, hitting her sweet spot over and over, moans filling the room with small pleads from her and soft curses from him.

Then a phone went off. Luke froze inside of her, and she groaned, sweaty, a mess, and incredibly sexually frustrated. She could feel Luke sitting inside of her; how big he was. She thought that he was going to ignore the phone call, to continue something that they were robbed of earlier. He wasn’t really going to let them be interrupted twice today, was he?

He reached over to the bedside table, picking his phone up and looking at the caller ID before sighing. He pulled out of her, baby blues looking at her with a frown, “I need to take this.”

“Luke,” It was a plead. For him to stay with her, to let them finish what they started. She shuffled lightly until she was sitting in front of him, on her knees. Her hand went to the side of his face, caressing it gently as she put her face at his neck, “Stay with me, Sir. I need you.”

He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to fall for it. He pulled away from her, gripping onto her side as a warning with his free hand, “No, Bambi.”

His voice was low, a warning for her to stop what she was doing as he sent her a pointed look. He didn’t even let her make another move or get another word in before he was back in his jeans and walking out of the room, leaving her alone.

The seconds that she was alone turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. She shifted uncomfortably, still on edge and incredibly frustrated. It didn’t seem like Luke was coming back as he had left without saying goodbye or telling her where he was going to be or how long. Was this all because she had tried to get him to stay?

Well, if he wasn’t going to get back, she would have to take stuff into her own hands. Leaning back, her hand reached her own clit, rubbing desperately, basking in the feeling once again. This time, she would get the job done.

Her fingers slipped inside of her, curling into her, moans softly filtering out of her lips. She was close, her fingers covered in her own slick as she continued to curl her hands into herself, soft pants falling from her lips as she spread her legs more to get a better angle, trying to go deeper.

Her hands would never be as good as Luke’s though, her small fingers not holding a torch to his digits. He knew everything that made her squirm, even better than she did, he had her all decoded, knew how to navigate her better than anyone else ever could.

“Baby I need to get-” Luke opened the door, stopping when his eyes met her figure on the middle of the bed, fingers inside of her as soft breaths fell from her lips. Her head titled back, eyes lidded as he froze on the spot before a smirk made its way onto his face.

“Really?” He asked incredulously, sauntering up to the bed before grabbing onto her wrist, pulling her fingers out of her desperate cunt making her whine. Her eyes met his, which never strayed, even after he brought her hand up to his mouth and swirling his tongue around her slick-covered digits.

“Lu-”

“Quiet,” He shut her up quickly, voice hard and commanding, something that made nerves bundle in her stomach and turned her on even more. He stood up again, sauntering over to the dresser before pulling a belt from the top of it, grabbing her hands and confining them with the thick leather, “Since you can’t keep your hands off of that pretty little pussy of mine, I guess we’re going to have to do something about that.”

Luke pulled her up to the headboard, hooping the leather around there and tightening it. When he let go, she pulled against the leather restraints, only to find her hands unable to move from their position at the headboard.

“So desperate to cum, baby? Well, you’ll be desperate to stop after I make you come over and over until there’s no more cum left in your body and you're writhing beneath me. Do you understand me, baby?”

“Yes Sir,” She whimpered out in return, nodding her head as she breathed heavily, watching Luke’s hand as it trailed teasingly down her side until it reached her pussy, a finger flicking up and down it, making her hips jerk up.

“But first of all, I need to go deal with the drug run. See you later, Bambi.”

And with a smirk on his face, Luke left his girlfriend there, tied up to the bed, whining for him to come back. And he would, and when he did, she wouldn’t be walking for days afterward.

#luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #gang!luke hemmings x reader #gang!luke hemmings #gang!luke hemmings x oc #luke hemmings gang #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x oc

288 notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 3 years

Text

In his eyes IV (Pero Blacksmith AU)

Pero Tovar x Female Reader

Part 3 here / Masterlist here under Pero / epilogue

Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), squirting, unprotected penetrative sex

Summary: the final two days with Pero while your father is away have you confronting what life will be like when your father returns.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: So this is the last full chapter! I will be posting an epilogue of where Pero and the bakers daughter’s life goes but I had so much fun writing for Pero and thank you for everyone’s lovely comments :) I enjoyed it so much I have planned a second Royal Reader x Guard! Pero series but want to take some time to plan it out properly before posting!

Day Four

The sun poured in through the window, casting a warm light over your back where the bed sheets had fallen off. Slowly letting your body wake to the world you kept your eyes closed as you listened to the birds that chirped from a nearby tree and the stream that ran by the back of your river. The weight that was holding you down began to shift on your back.

Pero’s hand had been taking up the most part of your back, holding you tight to his chest throughout the night. He was still asleep, only just, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest in time with his heartbeat that tapped against your cheek. Your bare skin was moulding against one another with every empty curve of yours being filled by him. You tilted your head up to take in his sleeping form, a lot more relaxed than you had ever seen him. His sharp jaw was within reach for your lips and so you shifted your body up to place a gentle kiss between his ear and jaw.

One of his eyes opened, looking down at you before he closed it again and pulled you tighter against his chest as he sighed contently.

“Good morning,” you whispered against his skin.

He hummed back, his fingertips now dragging up and down your back as he started to wake.

“Pero,” you whispered, waiting until his eyes opened again before you continued, “I have to work the market today.”

“Soon,” he grumbled before moving so your body was fully on top of his, your head resting on his stomach with your legs in the space between his.

His hands continued in their movement up and down against your back. His fingertips were rough, years of being weathered by labour and the harsh weather, but their movements were gentle as if he was handling the most delicate glass. You stayed against his warmth for a while longer, listening to his heartbeat that stayed as calm as it was while asleep, before finally pulling yourself from him to sit back on your heels, kneeling between his legs.

Looking down at him you finally got to take in his body under the light of the morning sun. Reaching out, you traced over the marks and scars that had stayed hidden under the dim candle light the night before. He was strong, covered in tales of his travels, but softer in age. Your hands continued tracing his skin as he watched your carefully, shifting his head on the pillow to fully take in the sight before him.

Pero could count on one hand the amount of times he woke up next to a woman but he had never woken up and been treated so carefully. The woman in front of him treated him as gently as she looked. Her eyes were never filled with even the smallest hint of fear when she looked at him, only care.

You looked up at him, smiling while your eyes were still half asleep. Your hands were lazy, eventually finding their way to his thighs and trailing across his hip bones. He couldn’t stop the shiver that made its way down his body as you did so.

Despite being completely bare in front of him in a way no one had ever seen you before, you felt no need to cover yourself. When your hands reached his middle you finally stopped before letting your fingers drag down his cock gently. The night before had been beautiful but you wanted him to teach you more. Teach him how to make him feel good.

His cock began to harden but his hands reached for your wrists to gently grab them and pull you down towards him.

“If you don’t stop we will never make it to the market,” he whispered against your lips before kissing you, “later.”

You pulled back and nodded before climbing from the bed. When you stood you realised the ache between your legs, wincing slightly as you reached for your clothes for the day.

Pero stood quickly, grasping your elbow, “I wasn’t too rough last night was I?”

“No,” you turned to place your hand on his chest, “you were perfect.”

Standing on your toes, you placed a kiss to his cheek before walking out of the room to get ready for the day. By the time you were ready, Pero was already downstairs with two bowls of porridge laid out for you. You eat quickly, wishing you had woke up with more time to spare to enjoy this domestic moment.

Pero washed the bowls as you filled the baskets for the markets, making sure you had all the breads and pastries to sell today. Once they were ready Pero had lifted them before you could, leaving you with only the spare coins to carry for the day.

“Would- would you like some help today?” Pero’s voice came from beside you as you left the house.

“Are you sure?” you double checked you had everything before leaving the garden, “I do not want to make you work on one of your days off.”

“I am sure, it also means I get to spend more of today with you,” he winked, opening the gate.

The market was busying as you arrived, Pero watching while you set up the stall how he had seen you do so many times before as he approached the market as a customer. He stayed by your side throughout the day, helping to wrap pastries for customers.

You laughed as he served one, listening to his gruff tone as he spoke and realising why he worked in a role that did not require as much people skills. Throughout the day you would feel his hand rest on your back as he moved by you to place coins in the bag at your side, his gentle touch reminding you of his hands on your skin the night before.

As the morning went on the market grew quieter until there were only a few customers left roaming by early afternoon. You took the time to count the coins made for the day before packing up but the sound of voices behind you caused you to lose count. Turning around you found Pero, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed over one another and arms across his chest as he spoke to two of the village children.

They were small boys, one with a ball tucked under his arm that he had forgotten about as they both listened to Pero with wide eyes. You couldn’t hear what Pero was saying, only noticing the soft and playful tone of his voice. Whatever was said caused the two boys to laugh, turning wide eyed to one another

The smile on Pero’s face was wide, mirroring the child-like nature of the boys in front of him. This was the Pero you had grown to know, gentle and caring and not as intimidating as the villagers first thought he was. He looked up, his eyes finding yours, before nodding towards the market and kicking off the wall. The boys followed excitedly behind him, their smiles growing wider as Pero took two coins from his pocket and placing them by the pile you were carrying. He lifted the last two sweet, sugar covered pastries before handing one to each of the boys.

“Do not eat until you are home and until your mother lets you,” he playful warned as he wagged a finger at them.

The boys cheered out a thank you, Mr Pero as they skipped off down the street with pastries in hand. Your eyes stayed on Pero as he watched them weave through the markets, noticing the slight wrinkles that pulled at the side of his eyes as he smiled.

“Cute kids,” you laughed while turning back to tidy up the rest of the stall for the day.

“Rascals,” he smiled turning back to you.

“I didn’t know you were good with children?” you half-asked as you handed him the empty baskets. Pero shrugged, taking them in his hands and waiting for you to collect the coins and lead the way back to the forest.

You felt lighter than you had in the longest time, walking back to your home that you had spent the night in with the man beside you the night before. Around half way back, raindrops began to fall from the gaps between the leaves. It was light enough not to change the pace of your steps but Pero still took the coins from your hand and placed them in the safety of his pocket.

A moment later, the rain started to fall in lashes. Pero reached for your hand and ran down the path, keeping you close to follow behind. You laughed and Pero cheered as your feet were hitting the quickly filling puddles, your feet hitting the ground faster than they had since you were a young child.

When you finally reached the house, Pero pushed the door open to usher you inside and close it quickly behind. You were both soaked through to the bone as moved around the table to start the fire.

“You should take your clothes off, I’ll see if I can find you something else,” you called over your shoulder to Pero who stood close to the door.

He stood for a moment before nodding and reaching for the string at the back of the tunic. You let him undress as you left the room and headed to your room. Once you were changed into a dry night dress, deciding to stay comfortable for the rest of today, you searched and finally found a tunic for Pero.

When you walked back to Pero he was waiting for you by the fire. His skin was covered in a red and orange light, illuminating his back muscles that moved as he stretched his neck. You called his name, handing him the tunic as he turned around.

The room was already heating up and you took your wet clothes to place over the fire while Pero pulled the tunic over his head. Moving to the couch behind you, you pulled a knitted blanket over you and held it open for Pero to join.

“Thank you for helping today, Pero,” you turned to face him.

His eyes were dark but under the light of the fire you noticed the golden specs that were within. The house was filled with the noise of rain hitting against the house, a comfortable loudness that made you feel safe in here, with him.

“It was my pleasure,” he hummed in response.

“My father will be back tomorrow,” you turned to face the fire and you felt Pero nod in response, “I have enjoyed your company Pero,” you felt yourself trail off as you remained unsure about what your father’s return would mean.

“I have enjoyed yours, more than any other before,” he admits, his hand reaching up you tilt your head towards him, “I- I feel at home with you, more at home than I have felt since I was a child.”

“I don’t want this to end, Pero,” you whispered.

His hand moved up from your chin, tracing down your nose and jaw before stopping at your collarbone and letting his fingers drag along there.

“Nor do I.”

You couldn’t stop the gasp that left your lips as he touched you so delicately, your own hand moving to cover his. He paused for a moment, thinking you were wanting him to stop, but you instead guided his hand lower to cup your breast, squeezing over his hand. He leaned forward as his hand squeezed before taking your nipple between his fingers and pinching, taking your lips in a breathtaking kiss as he pushed your body back against the couch and hovered over you.

“Pero, please,” you sighed as you turned your head, letting him kiss down your neck while arching your back into his touch.

He kept one hand balancing by your head as the other trailed down your body, lifting your night dress up and squeezing up your thigh. His hand reached your middle, growling as his fingers moved up your folds.

“So wet for me already?”

“Please, Pero. I- I won’t break,” you moaned, wanting to feel every inch of him on you and not as gentle as the night before.

He sat back on his heels, looking down at you from above. His eyes moved down to your soaked cunt and watched desperately as he pushed two fingers inside. He waited for a moment, still taking care that you were okay, but upon seeing pure pleasure on your face he began pulling them out and pushing them back in again at an excruciatingly slow pace. He bit his lip as he watched your tight walls pull his fingers back in again, mesmorised by you.

“M-more, Pero,” you begged while rocking your hips into his hand and he smirked.

He started moving his fingers faster and faster as he watched your back arch into his touch and his thumb came up to rub over your clit.

“Feels- feels so good,” your hands pulled at your dress as your mind was clouded by pure pleasure.

“So good for me, I could watch you like this all the time,” he moaned, “let go, you can do it,” he coaxed.

Your hand reached for his wrist, holding on as his fingers moved relentlessly against you and when his fingers curled the wave suddenly crashed over you.

You forced your eyes to stay open as you looked down, seeing a gush of your wetness soak Pero’s arm and tunic. Suddenly all you could see was white, your head falling back against the pillow behind you and feeling your body go limp. The ringing in your ears was loud and by the time you finally came to all you could hear was your own moan of Pero’s name and his growling from above.

“I’ve got you, good girl, I’ve got you,” he moaned as he slowed his movements before removing his fingers from you.

When you looked up, Pero’s eyes were darker than usual; full of neediness. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and he balanced his soaked hand on your knee.

“I- I-,” you couldn’t find the words, still trying to focus.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he pulled the wet tunic over his head and leaned down kissing you gently, before squeezing himself between you and the back of the couch.

He curled his body into yours, his hardness pressing into your side as he ran his fingers over your skin.

“How was that?” he whispered in your ear, watching the goosebumps that followed.

“Amazing,” you sighed turning to him.

“Good,” he smirked.

You reached your hand down, wrapping your hand around his length and looking up at him. “I want to make you feel good, Pero. Show me how,” you purred and he groaned in response.

“Tell me how you want to make me feel good, with your pretty mouth,” he leaned over you to kiss your lips once, “or with your soft hands,” he reached for your hand, taking it in his and kissing your knuckles while his eyes stayed on yours.

“My mouth. I want to taste you, Pero,” you sat up.

His lips founds yours once again as his hand made its way into the back of your head, needier as he sat up and pulled you closer against him. He re-positioned your bodies so he was now lying on his back and you were straddling his lap. You dragged your lips away from his and began to kiss down his cheek and jaw, sucking on his neck slightly and grinning against his skin as he moaned, before kissing down the bare skin of his chest. You had sure to move down so to kiss each scar you could find. His hands held the side of your face as you did so, his mouth open wide as he watched how gently you treated his body.

He was already hard, his cock flat against his stomach and leaking by the time you reached it. When you settled between his legs you kissed down his length, letting your tongue drag down it.

You stopped, looking back up at Pero suddenly embarrassed to ask him what to do but he stopped you with a nod.

“Open that pretty mouth for me,” he instructed gently.

You did so and with his hands in your hair he guided your over his cock that he held by the base. You kept your eyes on his as you took him in your mouth, listening to the gasp that left his mouth as you did so.

“There you go. Just take what you can, watch your teeth,” his tone was gentle, guiding, no hint of judgement or patronising you.

Your mouth bobbed up and down his length taking more each time. Your other hand gripped at his base, moving in time with your mouth to take the rest that you could not take. Your free hand was on his thigh, gripping whenever you felt as though you were about to gag.

‘Th- feels so good,” he moaned, his hands moving to cup your cheek and base of your neck as he helped guide your movements.

His head hit back against the pillow, trying his hardest to keep his eyes open and on you as you look up at him. You looked so perfect with your mouth on his cock and eyes looking up at him to watch his reactions to your movements. It was taking all his power not to cum there and then so after a few moments he gently lifted you from him and pulled you up for a kiss.

“Was- was that okay?” you asked as you pulled away.

“Perfect, my love, but I want to be inside you before I let myself go,” he turned your head to kiss down your neck, “turn around for me? On your hands and knees?”

He waited to gauge your reaction to his request and upon seeing your eyes light up as you bite at your lip and nod he began to move. He held your hips gently as you move like he says, turning away from him as he also moves up to his knees. He held you against his chest for a moment, kissing down your neck while pulling your dress over your head before letting you lean forward on your elbows. You looked back over your shoulder as he lines himself up at your entrance. He forces his eyes closed, unable to look at you or he knows he wont last long.

He guides himself in and your moans fill the room as you struggle to keep your weight up. One of his hands holds onto your hip to keep you steady while the other moves round to your clit, wanting you to cum one more time. The sound of his skin slapping against yours makes you moan more, your arms shaking while trying to hold your weight up.

As his fingers move against your clit you can’t help but move your hips back against him, listening to his moans as you do so spurring you on and you keep your hips moving in that rhythm. Both you movements became sloppy and by the time you came Pero’s body was covering yours. His hand was now by your head with his fingers locked with yours while his chest pressed onto your back.

You could feel his breath on the back of your neck get heavier and heavier until he pulled from you and you felt him cover your back with his seed, grunting and holding onto your hand tight as your name fell from his lips.

You stayed in that position as he gently cleaned you before he pulled you back to lie with him on the couch, your back pressed against his chest. He pulled a blanket over you both and his hand started to run up and down your arm before wrapping around your waist.

You turned your head into the pillow as he kissed gently down your neck before moving round to face him.

Your breaths were hot on one another’s face for a moment before he cupped your cheek and whispered your name.

“You are beautiful, so beautiful. I wish to make you smile every day and wash away the tears on the days you are sad. I love you, all of you with all of me,” he whispered against your lips.

“Pero, I- I love you, all of you with all of me,” you mirrored his words, “I do not want this to end.”

“It wont, my love,” he promised, “leave it with me.”

You nodded before kissing him gently. Your head buried into his chest and he pulled you against him, letting his fingers trail up and down your back. The rain was still loud as it crashed against the side of the house, the fire burning enough to heat you both as you fell asleep.

Day Five

The rain had stopped later on the night before while you and Pero eat dinner in front of the fire. He held you in his arms as you fell asleep for another night, this time curled up against one another on the couch.

This morning you stretched out on the couch as you woke up to another day, letting the tingle run down your spine before opening your eyes. The only heat you could feel now was the sun streaming into the room and when you realised he was no longer behind you on the couch your eyes searched the room for Pero. There was no sign of him, only a fresh set of clothes on the table by your side so you got changed before deciding to look for him.

When you reached the kitchen, you noticed the stove was on with porridge bubbling away in a pot but there is still no sign of Pero. You gave the contents a stir before you heard the door open and clang of a bucket full of water being set down on the table behind you.

“Good morning, sleep well?” Pero asked as he walked up behind you.

You hummed and turned to face him,“did you?”

Pero nodded before placing a hand on your hip from behind as you ladled some porridge into two bowls and kissed the side of your cheek. You motioned to the table and Pero pulled out a chair for you to sit at before sitting round at the other side. Breakfast was quiet as you both still woke up to the day and you did not talk again until you stood to wash the dishes.

You eat breakfast in silence, both still waking up to the day.

“Have you missed your father?” he asked as you dried the bowl he handed you.

“I have, but I have had a wonderful time with you,” you bump his arm with your elbow and he chuckles, “I should go to the market today.”

“I can help.”

You nodded and moved around the kitchen to look out your coin and baskets for the market while Pero tidied up the living room and kitchen for your father coming home.

“Do you want to talk the longer walk to the market today, by the stream?” you asked as you tied your coins to the side of your skirts.

“Yes, that sounds nice,” Pero responded as he reached for his boots.

“We can leave in a while, I’d like to enjoy the sun for now,” you reached for his hand to walk into the garden.

Pero followed, sitting beside you and resting back on his hands before you moved so your head was now resting on his lap. He closed his eyes, tilting his head up to the sun as you pulled a flower out of the ground and twirled it in between your fingers. You reached up, placing it behind his ear and tilting his head down towards you. His face was as calm as it had been the first morning you woke next to him.

“Pretty boy,” you whispered.

Pero reached over you and pulled another from the ground placing it behind your ear.

“Pretty girl,” he leaned down and kissed you softly.

You stayed like that for a while, your head on Pero’s lap as one of his hands held him up while the other rubbed gently up and down your clothed stomach. Noticing the sun reaching mid-sky you finally stood, stretching out in the sun, before pulling Pero up to join you.

The stream travels by the bottom of your garden, flowing down and by the village. It was a little deeper than it normally is because of the rain the night before but still only just below the knee height and so when you guided Pero towards it you took off your shoes lifted up your dress to walk through the water.

You held out your hand, waiting for Pero to roll his trousers and take of his own boots to join you. You both walked hand in hand down the river, occasionally pulling the other closer to bump shoulders or kiss slightly. You knew in your chest that you had fallen head over heels for the man beside you. You knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life by his side.

As you neared the village, Pero walked with you out of the water, helping you up the embankment. When you reached the top he took your shoes from your hands, kneeling on the ground to slip them onto your feet before putting his own shoes on.

The trip to the market was quick, gathering milk, meats and vegetables for your father returning. For every item you lifted and paid for Pero was quick to take them from you and carry them. For all Pero did not talk that much, he showed you every moment of every day that he meant those three words he whispered the night before. You were fine with that, feeling the constant warmth that loomed over you from him as he watched every movement of yours with care.

He continued to carry the food as he walked you home. You could feel his eyes on yours but whenever you turned to look at him his eyes moved forward. While he wasn’t what you called confident, his people skills getting in the way of that, he wasn’t shy either and you began to wonder what had him so nervous in this moment. Before you could question him you heard your name called by your father. You looked up to see your father standing in the garden, waving towards you.

“Papa!” you shouted before running towards your father, swinging the gate open and hugging him.

“More beautiful every day,” he pulled you away to look at you, “ah, Mr Tovar,” your father reached to shake Pero’s free hand.

“I hope your trip was well,” Pero shook his hand back, still avoiding your eyes.

“Well, looks like my daughter got enough from the market, will you stay for dinner?”

“I-I do not want to intrude-“

‘Nonsense, a thank you for taking such good care of my daughter this week.”

You and Pero could not hide your blushing cheeks and were glad for your father to lead you both inside. Pero walked next to your father as they spoke about his journey back before Pero began to help your father lifting out the food from the market from the basket.

“It’s a beautiful day, go sit in the sun while I prepare dinner,” your father shooed you out, “Mr Tovar will be out soon.”

There was a hint of something in your father’s eyes that you could not place and you looked back at Pero but as he nodded you moved into the garden.

Sitting on the grass you began to think about these past five days with Pero. You had fell into a routine with him, the past few days where you woke up and fell asleep next to him feeling more comfortable than any before. You didn’t know what would happen now, whether you would see him every Monday for checkers and serve him his bread when he came to the bakers. You were so lost in your thoughts as you stared out into the forest that you did not hear the door open or notice Pero’s footsteps until his weight sat next to you.

“I spoke to your Father,” he looked out to the field as you dragged a flower across the grass.

“What did you say?” you kept your eyes forward as well.

The minute that took him to reply felt like an eternity, the birds seemingly stalling overhead as their songs slowed. Pero’s hand reached for yours between your bodies, interlocking his fingers with yours.

“That I care for his daughter and I love her, and I believe she cares for me too,” he turned to face you.

“I believe she also loves you,” you teased as you faced him.

“He told me I would be a silly man to let that go,” his hand squeezed yours gently.

“Then don’t. Don’t let it go,” you whispered back as you shuffled closer to him.

“Marry me then? Your father told me about the spare land he owns near here, it is still in the forest and I can build our own house there. I can wake up to you each morning and love you each night. We can live as husband and wife and raise our own family… if that is what you want, my love.”

The tears that were pooling at the corner of your eye from his first two words were spilling down your cheeks by the time he took in a shaky breath at the end. He reached to wipe them away and you moved into his touch, laughing as the smile on your face was so wide it hurt your cheeks.

“I love you Pero, I would be honoured to be your wife,” you sighed contently and he finally let his own smile cover his face.

You hadn’t let yourself think about your life with Pero yet, not wanting to be hurt by whatever happened when your father returned, but with the few sentences he had spoke a moment before you realised your own dream. A life with Pero, starting a family and living in the forest well… there was no other future you would want than that with the man in front of you, holding your face gently as he promised to love you for the rest of his life.

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl

Pero tag // @bonktime @justpedropascal @coldlilheart @shadowolf993 @stylelovechild @frostsoldier @idreamofboobear @artsymaddie @ajeff855 @strangelittlenobody @elegantduckturtle @roxypeanut @shedobeclownin

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fanfic #headcannon #oneshot #the great wall

221 notes · View notes

the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

Urges P4

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT

COUPLE BENNY WATTS X READER

RATING SMUT AF

"Hummm… what is it you ask of me, babydoll?" He smirked kissing up the inside of my thigh but I pushed him away

"Lay down. Now" I ordered slightly giggling to myself

"As you wish" he smirked back sitting against the headboard I wrapped what was left of the chain around the headboard where he had chained my hands earlier and I smirked looking at him this way. His head against the headboard of his bed his hair in a bed head from our activities, his dark eyes watching me with a playful curiosity, his mouth perked up into a sly smirk, his bare slender but strong chest exposed from his neck down unendingly it would seam before seeing the V shape in his skin leading eyes directly to his half hard erection, four or five inches atleast in its half hard state, I bit my lip looking at him and he smirked more slightly moving his feet across the bed to open his legs wider for me "are you enjoying the view babydoll?"

"Very much so" I smiled running my hand up his inner thigh "what do you want Benny?"

"Ummm so much babydoll" he groans the closer my hands and tender finger tip touched to his cock

"Well if you don't tell me what you want, then you won't get anything" I giggled "is this what you want?" I asked taking a grip of the base of his cock it felt strange both because I don't think I've been had a dick on my hand before and the fact he was in a half hard state

"Uh yes." He gasped shutting his eyes

"What else Benny?"

"Ummmm kiss me. Please." He groans

"Kiss where?" I smirked kissing up his chest and around his neck

"Uuuhhh anywhere you want babydoll. My lips, my neck… My Cock" he smirked "anywhere those beautiful lips wanna kiss me" he groans

“Maybe I will, Or maybe I won't” I smirked

"Umm you're just trying to make me moan like I did that night aren't you? Your trying to make me desperate for you again, so my little babydoll gets dripping wet for me again listening to my sexy voice?" He groaned "can't you just let me out so I can make my babydoll feel good?"

“Maybe I do just wanna hear you moan, Like that night” I smirked

“Do you? Does me moaning for my babydoll make you wet?”

“Maybe” I giggled

“Maybe? Maybe is a losers word babydoll”

“Ohh I don’t intent to lose” I smirked biting on his neck

“Ummm fuck! I don’t like being so far away from you babydoll?” he complained “Come on let me out I wanna play with my babydoll?”

“Well... in a little while I might let you out” I smiled pushing his hair back playing with the waves in his hair, “Or I might just keep you locked up like this forever benny”

“Ummm I feel like your little puppy” he complained

“Why?” I giggled

“Well...I'm chained up, and you keep petting me” He laughs

“I keep petting you because you are a soft boy benny” I smiled “Does puppy want a chew toy?” I smirked gently sqeezing his cock as it hardered fully in my hand

“I wanna chew on you” he smirked back trying to kiss me but I moved away “Aww come on babydoll, I just want a kiss” He whines

“No kisses, You’ve been a bad boy benny”

“Umm have I? I thought you liked me that way” he smirked grinding his hips a little against my hand but I moved away making him look annoyed at me

“We’re gonna play a nice little game benny” I smirked moving my hands playful down his sculpted body rubbing on his hips a little

“Ohh are we now?” He asks “What are the rules?”

I smirked rubbing on the head of his cock making him groan loudly grabbing the chain hard biting on his bottom hip trying not to moan to loudly

“You can’t cum” I smiled

“Uhhh thats not fair babydoll”

“Why not? You’ve been used to it , haven't you?”

“It's still not fair?”

“Fun though” I smirked

“For you”

“Want me to stop?” I asked rubbing on him harder

“Uhhhh no babydoll. Please, don’t stop” He begged “ive waited so long for my babydoll to touch me, so many nights dreaming of you having your way with me. Please just keep touching me babydoll"

"No" I giggled moving my hands away from him completely he glared at me very frustrated

"Babydoll!" He whines

"What's the matter Benny? Getting desperate again?" I smirked rubbing on his thighs closely enough to keep his mind thinking about the area but not enough to give him pleasure of any kind

"Ummm you know I am" he growled

"Then tell me what you want" I Whispered kissing down his neck grabbing his shaft and roughly pumping

"Uughhh take me babydoll" he moans his hips bucking towards my hand so I stopped giggling at the sight of the drops of precum leaking down his shaft "ughhh! Your fucking evil" he complained "please… please. I need you" he gasps moving as close to me as he could his lips inches from mine

"Would think you got your fill of me all the things you've been doing to me?' I smirked

"Never, I want everything, for as long as you'll let me"

"Do you? Well you did so well keeping your urges at Bay so long. What made it all overflow that night?" I Whispered moving to sit on his lap moving my hips to grind on his hard cock

"Ooohh my god babydoll… ummm just a little more forward and I can get inside please" he groans but I kept still only moving my hips enough to pleasure him "I don't know why, I think it was just so long. And when I saw you again, I couldn't control it anymore" he explained

"You said you'd been dreaming like that since you first saw me?" I giggled

"I did, the night you moved in I was jerking off to your beautiful little dresses, and almost every night since my beautiful babydoll" he smirked "i know you dreamt about me too. I could hear my sexy babydoll at night touching herself… it took all the strength I have in this world not to go up there and fuck that desperate pussy" he growled "make you mine"

"Why didn't you?' I Whispered

"Uhh! Would you have… wanted me to?"

"Maybe Benny"

"Maybe? Maybe I should have gone up there pushed you down in your bed and fucked that desperate pussy till all my pretty babydoll could day was my fucking name" he growled grinding himself on me hard

"Or maybe that night I should have come around and handcuffed you to the bed and used your pretty cock as my personal sex toy?'

"Ummm you would have been welcome babydoll" he smirked "he's all yours. If you want him?' he smirked

"All mine?" I giggled

"All yours babydoll. To do whatever you want with, so long as you promise me something?"

'what?'

"My babydoll can have me as her personal sex toy, I'll fuck her as much as she wants and she can use me however she pleases, so long as we agree not to keep our urges hidden any longer"

"Benny we can't do that"

"Why not?"

"We'd never leave each other's company"

"I can live with that" he shurgs "I can live with my sexy babydoll never leaving so we can use each other for our urges whenever we want" he smirked "I mean… you could even come move down here with me if you wanted?"

"Well see Benny" I smiled moving away from him

"Ughh no! Babydoll! Come on" he whines

"What do you want Benny?"

"I want my babydoll to use me. Please… babydoll just make me cum. I need you so badly. Uhhh touch me, feel how badly I need my babydoll" he smirked so I took his shaft in my hand feeling the precum on his head and the throbbing of his shaft "ummm I ache for you babydoll, he aches for your beautiful pussy. I need to be inside you, I need to feel you, to make love to you"

"Very desperate aren't you benny' I smiled jerking his shaft as hard as I could

"Uuuuuhhh! Uummmm more, more please, I need you, your hand feels so good babydoll" he groans "but… master needs more" he growled

"Why are you so desperate Benny after everything you've already done to me?" I asked kissing down his chest

"Uhhh I have a lot of pent up urges babydoll, Last night was amazing babydoll, but we barely scratched the surface of how badly I want you" he growled "set me free… and I'll show you"

"No, I don't think I will" I smiled as I kissed his v

"Ummm lower, lower! Please babydoll"

"Why Benny?" I asked innocently

"Ummmm I want my babydolls innocent little mouth around my cock" he groans "please… you have no idea how long I've waited for you to do it" he begs opening his legs even wider "please babydoll"

I smiled kissing his shaft slowly and tenderly he gasped each time I kissed "uhh… ummm" he groans bitting hard on his bottom lip I licked my lips looking up at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his cocks head "uughhh! Babydoll." He gasped fighting with the chain "please… I need you" he begs I smiled giving his head a little lick "ohhh my God you evil little thing!" He groans annoyed as the seconds went in that he wasn't in my mouth "blow me babydoll. Please." He begs "I'll do whatever you want, you can do whatever you want to me for the rest of my natural life just for fuck sake take me!" He groans

"I will… when you say the secret words' I giggled

"What- what are you talking about?"

"Come on Benny say it and I'll let him go in my mouth" I smiled kitten licking his head

"Uughhh uuughhh… what secret words?"

"You have to guess," I smiled between licks and kisses

"Ummm… ummmmmmm… ugh! You're beautiful?"

"Getting warmer" I smiled swirling my tounge around him

"Ughh! Your the most amazing beautiful, sex girl in the world?"

"Warmer" I smiled gently kissing his head and slightly sucking

".... Uughhh! I love you" he groans

"Good boy" I smiled licking a line up his shaft from base to him

"Ummmmmmm! I love you, I love you, I love you babydoll." He groans "Now please… you promised" he whines

I smiled taking every inch of him in my mouth doing my best not to graze him with my teeth licking where I could and sucking as hard as I could "uuh! Yes! Yes! Ughhh fuck! Yes! More! More! More! Uuuuuhhhhhhh ohh my God! Uughhh! Don't stop please, don't ever stop my beautiful babydoll" he groans struggling not to buck his hips into my mouth his feet wrapping around my back lost in his own world I looked up at him his head on the headboard his arms fighting with the chain, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his lips open moaning and gasping for breath I sucked harder watching his face melt into me "uuuhhh uughhhh ummmmm y/n! uuuuuhhh yes! Yes! Please babydoll… I'm about to-" he groans but I pulled away "what no! No no no! Come back I'm begging you please!" He screams

"How close were you benny?' I smiled

"I was on the edge, please… please! Just a minute more it's all I need!" He begs

"Hummm guess it's true what they say, boys do go crazy when you have there brain in your mouth" I smirked

"Y/n, babydoll please I'm begging you" he whines "just let me finish. Please. I need you so badly"

"How badly Benny?" I Whispered kissing you and down his neck leaving love bites where I could

"Uuummm, I need you, please, I'll do anything, I'll do whatever you want me to do, you can do whatever you want to me, I'll buy you anything you want, give you anything you ask, please… just put my cock back in your mouth babydoll. Let me feel that beautiful mouth around me again,"

"Is it better then my pussy?"

"Umm don't make me choose babydoll" he groans "I adore all of you. Please let me feel what it's like to be inside you again Babydoll, or put me back in your heavenly mouth. Please I'm begging you, just put me inside you, your mouth, your pussy, fuck your ass! I don't care where I just need to be inside my babydoll" he moans

"Do you now Benny? I think you've been far to naughty for that" I smirked moving away sitting back on my elbows looking at him, he watched me confused but unable to look away as I opened my legs wide

"Yes. That's I want that please. There… I would like to go there" he says looking at my pussy

"Not today benny" I smiled

"What are...what are you- ohh my God are you gonna?" He asked

"Ummm Humm" I nodded moving my hand to gently circle my aching clit watching his eyes widen his cock throb and jump in excitement, his hips moving uncontrollably as he watched, his mouth open his eyes unable to leave me "uhhh Benny" I gasped

"Stop it! Please! I can't just sit and watch please! Unchain me Babydoll, unchain me and I'll do it for you just don't make me watch!" He complained desperately fighting the chain but I didn't move only rubbing in more wetness and moaning louder for him "uughhhhhh! One of them is gonna break, the chain, the bed or my fucking wrist I do don't care which just gimme my babydoll!" He screamed I giggled moving my hand away and going close to him capturing his lips in a kiss which he instantly and lustfully took over "please you looked so beautiful, jump on masters cock babydoll, then we can both feel good" he groaned I giggled moving to grind on him and within seconds he pushed inside me not as deep as when he's behind me but still enough to make me grab his shoulders hard "ummmm fuck me babydoll, I wanna feel your squirt running down my cock" he growled thrusting up as much as he could I did my best to bounce and it took seconds before we where both going crazy in need of our orgasums I hit mine first squealing tightening around him, as I did his eyes rolled back and he softened finishing as deep inside me as he could "fuck…. I love you"

"Love you too" I smiled giving him an innocent kiss and unlocking him completely laying on the bed expecting a cuddle but as I laid on my stomach on the best gasping for breath suddenly he sat over me and slapped my arse hard he chained my hands behind my back and kissed my neck

"Aww babydoll, did you think you where getting a rest? Did you think you'd get mercy? After all that you just did to me." He smirked "think again Babydoll" he growled.

96 notes · View notes

liquorisce · 3 years

Text

reading between the lines (High School Years, Ch 2)

pairing: eren x mikasa (shingeki no kyojin) // mild erehisu, yumihisu

rating: t

summary: (modern au) Junior year is difficult, especially for Mikasa, because it turns out Eren’s decided to test the dating scene.

(banter, jealousy... and lots of feelings)

part 1 | read on ao3

A/N: this chapter has been a long time coming (5 years omg), and tbh I have a lovely anon to thank, who messaged me asking for a sequel to hsy, which made me actually want to put down my scrambled headcanons on paper. if you're reading this anon, i'm truly grateful for the push you gave me.

NOTE: although i intended a sequel, this is a COMPANION fic to chapter 1, it is meant to fill up the gaps in the story that the previous chapter didnt tell you. i hope you enjoy :)

Today was not one of Eren’s favourite days, for 2 reasons. For one, the day started off with … an encounter. Two, today they would be getting the results of their final trig assessment, which Eren knows perfectly well he didn’t have a chance of passing.

The ‘encounter’ happens pretty much without preamble.

…

“… Hey, it’s Eren, right?” He turns around from his conversation with Armin, to see the same guy from a couple of weeks ago, the one who was talking about Mikasa, and her pretty hair. (he wasn’t wrong)

“Yeah?” He does his best not to let the subconscious irritation seep into his tone.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day,” the guy with the oddly horse-shaped face says, “… My name’s Jean.”

“… Nice to meet you,” he says awkwardly delivering his dishonest words.

“… So, I wanted to be straight up with you,” Jean says, cheeks oddly pink. “About Mikasa… and you. I’ve heard some rumours, and I thought it best to address it with you directly, because I really don’t want to cause any trouble.” Clearing his throat, he says, “Are you guys… y’know, together?”

It’s in the way Jean speaks, he thinks, or the way he talks about Mikasa (or even thinks of her?) - it makes him want to ram his fist right in the middle of his ugly face. And because he was too busy clenching his fists to actually respond, Armin says with a laugh, “… Ah, don’t worry, Mikasa is totally single.”

And then proceeds to wink at Jean.

Eren can barely believe his eyes and ears. And once Jean is out of earshot he hisses, “… what the fuck, Armin?”

Armin blinks up at him innocently. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“… You didn’t have to encourage him,” Eren mumbles petulantly, when he admits to himself that Armin did, in fact, say nothing wrong.

“Erm, why not?” He sighs, “Look, I know you… worry about Mikasa,” Armin keeps his tone as neutral and veiled as possible, because worried is definitely not all Eren feels for Mikasa, “… but Jean is a good guy! And if anyone deserves attention from a good guy, it’s her.”

…

ii.

She finds him lurking near his locker, stuffing his crumpled papers in, probably wishing away their existence.

“That bad, huh?” She asks, hiding away her grin at his predictable reaction. Eren has always been predisposed too sulking - whether he was a 7-year-old who wasn’t the fastest on the field or 16-something and having just received his trigonometry results.

“… You look like you did just fine,” he mutters, not having to see the A+ on her paper to know that Mikasa had no problem acing the trig test (or any other test).

“You could just ask me for help, Eren. I could help you out for the retakes,” she offers softly, not for the first time.

He sighs. When he glances at her, dark eyes offering earnestly, he knows she means it without any pride or arrogance, but he isn’t able to suppress the prick of his own ego that has him mumbling, “… the mandatory remedial lessons should do just fine.”

…

iii.

When he shows up for class, he sees only a couple of others unfamiliar faces, so he curses under his breath at his own ineptitude towards mathematics for getting him in this situation and takes a spot at the back of the class.

The Support teacher - Erd, he calls himself, apparently too young to be addressed ‘Mr.’ or any of that - seems just as tired as the rest of them, sighing at the lack of answers, obviously frustrated at the complete lack of interest or gratitude of the teenagers in front of him.

So, 20 minutes into the 1-hour lesson, when the short blonde walks in, out-of-breath and apologetic, the sarcasm in his tone is biting. “You’ve already missed 1/3rd of this class, you might as well have stayed out entirely and practiced your cheer routines.”

Eren watches sympathetically at the visible cringe on Krista’s face and offers her an empathetic smile as she takes the seat next to him.

Later when they’ve been informed that the retake is just an assignment filled with proofs and average difficulty problems that they can do in pairs, he looks at Krista, the only known person in the room.

They weren’t that close, but they had quite a few mutual friends what with him playing basketball and her being part of the cheer team. So, when she says, “… see you at the library tomorrow evening?” with a pretty smile across her pretty features, he grins gratefully.

She doesn’t struggle with trig even half as much as he does. In fact, she seemed to be happy to do most of the work herself and explain her solutions - if he actually had the interest to understand them.

“I don’t understand,” he admits after she solves the 5th problem in a row effortlessly, “you seem to have everything down already. How come you didn’t pass the test?”

Her eyes skittered nervously away from him. “I was… sick,” she mutters. “I couldn’t really focus.”

He eyes her closely, observing the sudden change in her countenance. Usually Krista was all easy smiles, twinkle in her blue eyes. Now, she looks uneasy, unwell almost. Deciding it wasn’t his place to pry, “… Well, I guess I turned out to be the lucky one in all this,” he grins, “… I get to hang out with you and have you do my assignment.”

She rolls her eyes. To be honest, she’d enjoyed the past couple of evenings with him. Eren was easy to talk to, despite being somewhat of an airhead and being completely incapable of anything remotely math related. But regardless, he made her laugh and just about forget what happened the morning before she showed up for this test, with fresh tears choking her throat, and purpling bruises on her thighs.

“I guess you owe me then,” she quips back, smugly.

“… I definitely do,” he says smoothly, green eyes watching her in a way that makes her feel warm. “How can I make it up to you?”

Flustered, because she hadn’t expected his easy response, she mumbles, “… Dinner?” And with red cheeks hidden by her blonde bangs, she whispers, “I like pizza.”

…

iv.

She finds him at the end of the day, on one of the wooden tables outside the basketball court, chin resting in his hands, eyes glued to his laptop.

“… Hey,” she breathes, giggling when startled green eyes flash up to her, body jerking in surprise.

“Damn, you got me,” he grins, pushing his laptop away and leaning up for a brief kiss. She’s happy to return it, and she lets her fingers wind into his hair, enjoying it for a moment longer.

“Mmm,” she mumbles, “I saw you closing that browser window,” she teases, wrestling control of his laptop, “watcha lookin’ at?”

When she manages to open his browser history – much to Eren’s protest – her eyes widen. “Women’s dresses, spring collection??” She waggles her eyebrows at him.

“… It’s not for me,” he grumbles, deciding to make it painstakingly clear before Krista enthusiastically begins to tell him what dress would suit him the most – he knows his girlfriend, crossdressing would be absolutely acceptable, if not encouraged – and he watches her eyes feign disappointment.

“… Boring,” she sighs, rolling her pretty blue eyes, “I don’t see how you’re not curious about how you look in a dress,” – she gasps, hand flying over her mouth, “Wait… was that… a surprise… for me?”

“… Um,” Eren starts, intelligently, because the situation that was already awkward in his opinion, just became even more so. “Well,” he gulps, taking in the sparkle in her eyes, knowing fully well just how much she likes surprises, feeling guilty even thought he needn’t be, “itsformikasa.”

He hangs his head in apparent apology, but more so because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment flit across her features.

“… Oh.”

He chances a glance at her, and there’s no particular emotion per se, and it worries him, because she gets this faraway look in her eye sometimes, and he can’t really tell what’s going on, and they’ve only been together a few months and he’s not an expert in reading her silences –

“I see, is it for her birthday or something?” Her tone is measured, and she’s looking pointedly at the screen.

“Um… yeah.” Eren sighs, wondering what the hell was up with his own reaction. He had nothing to feel guilty about – where did that even come from anyway? – Mikasa’s his… family (or something). Shopping for her was normal. He did it every year. This isn’t something he needed to hide.

“Yeah, it’s next month,” he says, giving her a smile. There was no need for this to be awkward if he didn’t make it so. Besides, it wasn’t like he was buying her lingerie or something! (he brushed this thought aside faster than the red blush crept up his neck)

“Do you think, you could help me with it?” He blurts this out, partially in an attempt to distract the weird atmosphere, and also partially because he could really use the help.

Krista blinks. “Err, yeah. Sure.” She pulls up Mikasa’s profile on Instagram. “Let’s see,” she murmurs… Turtlenecks… Jeans… a ridiculously modest swimsuit that she wore to a pool party two years ago. The sexiest outfit on her entire profile was probably her in her tennis shorts and that had more to do with Mikasa’s undeniably ripped body than anything else.

She looks up at Eren, who’s still looking at her tentatively, green eyes unsure.

This whole thing was silly anyway, she thinks, offering him a genuine smile. He and Mikasa were close (and they lived together, which she did her best not to think about), but this wasn’t a surprise so it’s about time that it came up in some way in their relationship. In any case, she hadn’t felt any hostility from the raven-haired beauty and Eren was usually quite forthcoming about everything, so she didn’t really have anything to worry about.

“So, um, does she have a favourite colour or something?” She’s eager to kill the awkward mood and is grateful to see his shoulders visibly relax as he ponders.

“… Red, I think. Maybe, like, a darker shade. Sort of… maroon, y’know?” He thinks of the scarf he gave Mikasa when they were younger. It was a ratty, yet fluffy maroon thing which she was absolutely terrible at tying, but she wears it everywhere during the winter, even though his father had a bought her a better one at some point.

They peruse their options for a bit, and Krista picks out a deep red number, a shimmery satin one, with slinky straps and a slit that travels up an already high hemline. It wasn’t really a spring dress but more of a cocktail night outfit, and Eren is weirdly embarrassed thinking of Mikasa in it.

He eyes the screen incredulously. “… Somehow, I just can’t picture Mikasa wearing something like that.” He opens up another link, to a denim overall dress, “… now this, she would wear.”

“And that,” Krista retorts, “is why she’s still single. She has an amazing body; she should flaunt it.”

“… What would she wear it to?” Eren asks, unconvinced. (Also, what was wrong with Mikasa being single?) “… Student council meetings? Debate competitions?! I just,” –

“Parties, Eren,” she says, exasperated, “… it’s high school!”

“You know she doesn’t” –

“Drag her to some! C’mon, we’re going to be seniors soon. She’ll thank you for it!”

…

Six hours later, she’s closing up her shift at her part-time job. It’s a job she’d rather keep hidden – from her friends at school and the law – because she isn’t sure what the age policy was in these kinds of establishments. It worked out because it was close enough to home, and between her and the bartender, the tips compensated the poor wages. Plus, the bartender – a slightly older girl named Ymir with a pretty fringe and a sharp tongue – was genuinely fan to hang out with. And she was surprisingly protective of the small blonde, particularly with the rougher customers, whom Ymir scared off quite effectively with her glares.

“So,” she says, as she scrubs the counter clean, “… I helped my boyfriend buy a dress today.”

She doesn’t turn back to see her, but she can hear Ymir’s raised eyebrows as she says, cheekily, “… I didn’t realize you guys were into that stuff.”

Snorting, she replies, “Well that would be interesting. But no, it was for his, um, friend. Or something.” Or something, because sometimes Eren refers to Mikasa as his best friend, sometimes his family, and sometimes it just felt like… something else, basically.

She turns around to look at Ymir, who says nothing, continuing to rinse the rest of the glasses. “Her name’s Mikasa,” she continues, her voice getting oddly unsure, “They’ve known each other forever. They even… live together.”

“… What,” Ymir stares at her in disbelief.

“It’s not like that,” Krista finds herself sounding defensive, “Eren’s dad is her guardian… or something. Has been for some years. So, it’s not like they moved in together…”

She elects to skip the part where Eren’s dad is a doctor with Doctors without Borders and is barely home for more than a couple of months a year. She didn’t like the look Ymir was giving her anyway.

“So… they’re like brother-sister or what?”

“No,” she says, realizing that the word came out more vehement than she intended. But she knows that was definitely not the way Eren saw their relationship.

“… Krista,” Ymir starts, and the blonde can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s going to get all protective on her, “… I know you’re in high school, and… you’re dating – as you should – but you don’t have to waste your time on shady boys.”

At this she laughs because, “Eren’s not shady, he’s a nice guy,” –

“… You could get anyone you want; I mean look at you, you’re beautiful.”

The defense that was bubbling up in her throat suddenly stilled, because there’s something about the way Ymir just said that – called her beautiful – earnestly, quietly, and it made her feel funny. It took her breath away for a very brief second and replaced it with a warm flush that creeps up her neck.

It’s strange, she’s heard it before from so many boys with obvious motivations; Eren’s always calling her pretty, and complimenting her eyes or whatever… But when Ymir said it, and looked at her like that, honey brown eyes, deep with unnamed emotion, all she could do was avert her eyes.

…

vi.

It’s 7pm and the library’s home only to the nerds by now. The librarian is lax (and underpaid) enough to ignore the low buzz of two over-enthusiastic AP chemistry students that grates on Mikasa’s ears.

Ordinarily she’d just plug her earphones in and ignore the world to focus on the assignment at hand. But today she accepts anything to distract her from the scene earlier at home. And even though Armin’s sitting right next to her, supposedly doing his own thing, she doesn’t miss the worried glances he sends her every now and then, which she really doesn’t want to address.

Her feelings for Eren were a well-known secret by now, just as well-known as the fact that he clearly didn’t return those feelings, so she wasn’t particularly in the mood for Armin’s indulgent pity… regardless of how well-intentioned it was.

So, when its 8pm and the librarian is shooing them out, and she bumps into Jean, she’s grateful for the few extra minutes of conversation surrounding absolutely nothing important.

When they continue to the parking lot, their conversation having progressed from awkward conversation starters to an animated discussion on Jean’s tennis form, Armin’s well and truly realized that he has no place here.

After Armin’s said his goodbyes and Mikasa recognizes that she doesn’t mind staying away from home and possibly Eren and Krista in the middle of their 5th round, she asks Jean, “… so do you like Chinese food?”

…

When she walks in a little after 10 pm, cheeks cold from the night air, there’s a small grin on her cheeks, because she’s made a new friend today, whose company she genuinely enjoyed.

But when she enters the living room to see Eren fast asleep on the couch, she finds herself staring in the face of the reality she’d tried so hard to escape. It’s difficult to ignore the ruffled quality of his brown hair, mussed up in a way that could only have been achieved by someone (a very blonde, very beautiful someone) raking their hands through it.

She can’t help the wave of irritation that sweeps through her - so she doesn’t bother to soften her footsteps as she walks up the wooden stairs.

Minutes later, she hears his sleepy voice at her door. “Hey,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “you were out pretty late, so I left you some dinner. We made pasta, it’s not as good as yours but,” -

“… I ate already,” she says, tone clipped.

“Oh.” He’s quiet, just watching her put her things away, and there’s irrational tears pricking at her eyes, anger, and frustration that she knows she doesn’t have the right to, so she doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “… Mikasa, are you…,” he clears his throat, “… is something wrong?”

When she says nothing, he sighs, turning, “… Well, if you want to talk about it, you know I’m always here,” -

“… Could you please go over to Krista’s house next time?”

She colours, surprised at herself for her outburst of honesty. But her blush pales in comparison to Eren’s as he processes what she’s saying. “… This is my house,” he sputters, “… I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to bring my girlfriend over.”

“Well, it’s not just ‘bringing her over’, is it?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “… What I do with Krista, in my personal space, is definitely not your business, Mikasa.”

“It is when I can hear it, Eren,” she retorts, as he shuts the door forcefully behind him.

…

vii.

It’s been two weeks since that… confrontation, and Mikasa’s barely spoken to him since.

She leaves before he does, makes sure dinner’s left out on the stove for him, whether he needs it or not, and locks her door when she’s done. And although he’s found himself staring awkwardly at that shut door multiple times, he’s never had the courage to actually knock.

He simply cannot comprehend this situation because despite the numerous arguments they’ve had in the past - it was always him, whining about something like a petty child and sulking till he got his way - she’d never truly been mad at him. And she’d never, ever, gone days without talking to him. And as he stares at the locker next to his (it was Mikasa’s) with a horrible ache in his chest, he is well and truly sure that he loathes this situation.

So, when small hands reach around his waist, enveloping him in a tight embrace, his subconscious reaction is to jerk back in annoyance. “I didn’t realise it was you,” he murmurs apologetically, rubbing her hands softly.

“… Who else would it be?” Krista asks, somewhat thrown off by this mood that had been festering for days now.

“You ask some very valid questions there, babe,” he mutters, a distracted half-smile on his face.

Taking a deep breath (determined to shake him out of his pensive aura), she whispers, “… You know, I don’t have work today.” She leans against him, reaching up to murmur in his ear, “we could hang out at yours for a while, if you want?”

She makes it clear what she means by “hanging out” by the way she presses up against him, and even though he’s responded with fervent enthusiasm to a similar invitation in the past, today he just averts his gaze, awkwardly.

Swallowing the rejection with a graceful exterior, she puts an arm’s length of distance between them. “… What’s going on, Eren? Your head’s been somewhere else all week.”

And before he starts to stay that it’s nothing, just that he has some stuff going on, she says, “… does this have something to do with Mikasa?”

His green gaze jerks up at her, startled with unfortunate honesty. “… I haven’t seen you talk to her all week.”

“…I,” he starts, but his throat closes up, for some reason, unsure whether he should really tell her what happened. He doesn’t want to put her in the middle of something that was clearly between him and Mikasa.

But with every passing second, the guilty look on his face only begins to feed the fears that she had successfully kept dormant all this while. “… Did something happen between the two of you?”

And when he looks into her eyes, bright blues seeping insecurity, he says, hurriedly, “… wait, I hope you aren’t thinking that we,” - he inhales sharply, wondering how he manages so successfully to upset the women in his life - “God, no. We had a misunderstanding, that’s all. She said something, I was pretty rude to her, and I shouldn’t have been.”

“And,” he murmurs, admitting it to himself, finally, “I’ve just taken too long to apologize.”

…

She’s barely finished washing the vegetables for dinner, when she hears the thud of the front door closing loudly.

(She remembers Carla reprimanding him every time, for not being gentler)

Mikasa has managed to avoid Eren successfully these past days, because she knows his schedule, knows that despite his complete lack of organization, he’s fairly predictable. And with his recent interest in a particular cheerleader, he almost invariably never comes home before 8.30 PM. So, when she hears him enter their kitchen at little over 7, she isn’t prepared.

She isn’t prepared because she’s been quite cowardly, saying things that she had no business saying, and then being unable to own up to it, unable to apologize to him. Because she knew that when she looks at him, she’ll feel the way she feels right now - taking in the sight of him, drizzle droplets fresh in his brown hair, as he runs a hand through it, his mouth twisting into an awkward grin. She knew she’d realize that her feelings for Eren were never really much of a choice, they just were.

“… I brought your favourite dumplings from Li’s,” he announces. “And I brought an extra serving of the spicy soy sauce so we don’t have to fight over who gets the last bit.”

…

He’s grateful for the small smile that forms on her face when she accepts the dumplings (the peace treaty as he calls it in his head), and for the small banter that she indulges him in as they eat.

After they’re stuffed with dumplings and inconsequential conversation, he clears his throat, because he remembers he came home early tonight with a certain conviction.

But as she does with most things, she beats him to it. “… Eren, about the other day,” she looks at him earnestly, “… I had no right to demand that of you. I’m sorry.”

And when he’s still quiet, she mumbles quickly, “I don’t know what got into me that day, honestly, I,” -

“Don’t apologise, Mikasa,” he says, a strange disquiet taking over him as he replays her words, “… the last thing I want, is to make you feel uncomfortable.” Or to make you feel like you can’t demand what you want from me.

This is the part that settles into him slowly, that somehow, the one person in his life that he’s always felt he could ask anything of, could demand anything of, and actually receive it without fail… she didn’t feel that she could count on the same from him. And it twisted painfully inside of him.

“I appreciate that, Eren. But honestly, I’ll get used to it… so don’t worry.” She smiles, in that genuine way of hers, small lips, curving shyly, “… and who knows, maybe someday I’ll want to ‘bring someone over’ too.”

She laughs as she does the air quotes and even though he manages a small grin in response, all he can say, without really meaning it, is –

“Yeah… Of course, yeah.”

…

viii.

She takes her frustration out on the cash register. “… Damn thing doesn’t open when I need it to, and doesn’t close when I want it to,” she mutters under her breath.

“You just need to show it some love,” Ymir says, amused, promptly closing the problematic register without any difficulty. “… Go sit, I’ll close up here.”

She does as she’s told, pouting slightly, but she’s grateful for the older girl’s help and understanding. “So… want a beer before I close the tap?” Ymir asks with a wink.

“You need to stop offering underage girls alcohol,” Krista whispers, scanning the room hastily.

The brunette rolls her eyes. “You need to stop with the innocent act every time. You’re a hot cheerleader for god’s sakes, everyone knows what goes on at your high school parties,” -

“Ok ok,” she acquiesces, suppressing the blush at Ymir’s offhanded compliment and deciding that that there was no point in panicking every time they did this, “… but only if you join me.”

“Cheers,” Ymir says, offering her glass to Krista’s and taking a generous gulp. “So, tell me. Boy trouble, again?”

Krista nurses her drink slowly before taking a sip.

To Krista, Eren was a breath of fresh air. He didn’t hover, he didn’t foam at the mouth every time she spoke to another guy, didn’t hound her if she didn’t pick up his phone call.

Does he even care? Ymir had asked her once scathingly, but she had disregarded it, grateful for the freedom she felt in his embrace. Freedom from toxic attachment, from past trauma or unresolved baggage like the one she was destined to carry. When she was around him, she had felt different. Lighter almost, as if this persona that she had created for herself could actually have a shot at happiness after all.

But lately she’d begun to wonder if she’d just been fooling herself… again. She’d begun to question if she had just convinced herself to see the promise of something that was never there.

“… I thought this guy was one of the good ones,” Ymir says, watching Krista closely.

“He is…” she sighs, “He is one of the good ones. It’s just…” she trails off, unsure if she should give voice to her thoughts. “Ah fuck it, I’m just feeling a little insecure, it’ll be fine…”

“… Is this about that sexy flatmate of his?”

She winces, feeling exposed. It often felt that way with Ymir. Like there was no point to any of the barriers she had worked so hard in constructing.

“She is attractive,” Krista admits, begrudgingly. “… I’m only surprised Eren hasn’t noticed that.”

“… But that’s what you’re worried about, aren’t you? That he has noticed that of late?” Ymir narrows her eyes at Krista. “You should just ask him about it!”

“I did,” she states defensively, “… and he said there was nothing,” -

“… Oh, sure there’s nothing. I can’t believe he thinks he can lie to you and get away with it,” -

“Ymir, I trust him, he’s my boyfriend,” -

“But that’s the problem with you. You just trust everyone, and you let them walk all over you. You did this with Reiner and now with,” -

“Ok,” she whispers, “Stop it, Ymir.”

“… Krista, you need to trust your gut about this sort of thing. If your gut is telling you that he’s a lying asshole, then you should just dump his ass and,” -

“… See this is why I didn’t want to tell you about this,” she cries, her voice rising In frustration. Because this is how it’s always been with Ymir, no one she dates is ever good enough, no decision she makes is ever smart enough.

“You’re always shitting on my boyfriends. And I know you were justified about the last one, but,” her voice cracks just a little bit, because at the end of it all, she just feels weak, “… it feels like you’re just taking a massive crap on me as well.”

“I didn’t mean,” Ymir starts apologetically, brown eyes remorseful, “… look, that wasn’t my intention.”

She takes her hand, slowly, lets her long fingers intertwine with Krista’s smaller, dainty ones. The crumpled expression on Krista’s features has her regretting ever opening her big mouth. But she was tired of seeing one person after another, enter her Krista’s life, and undo the progress she was trying so desperately to make.

“… The truth is,” she takes a deep breath, ready to unleash a truth that’s been stifled for so long, she can’t even remember when it first sprouted, “I think you’re pretty fucking amazing. And I see you wasting all your time and your feelings on these stupid boys who don’t deserve you.” The words come out quickly, rushed almost. A sharp contrast to how long they’ve festered in Ymir’s chest, growing and growing until these feelings knew no reason.

Ymir doesn’t look at her, she keeps her gaze focused on Krista’s hand, afraid of what might happen if Krista understands the depth of feeling behind her words. But more important than her feelings, there were some things she wanted Krista to see clearly.

“Did you tell him about your father, Krista? What he does to you when his wife isn’t looking?”

Krista tugs on her hand, a wave of unbridled panic spreading at the mention of her father. “I trusted you with that information, Ymir, you promised you’d never bring it up,” -

“… Did you tell him your real name?”

She can’t answer this question, even though she knows the answer, knows it’s an emphatic ‘no’ - but she cannot answer because there’s an overwhelming lump in her throat, and it’s taking everything from her to barely keep it together.

“… Let go of me, Ymir,” she pleads, and that’s when Ymir loosens her grip.

“… You trusted me to keep quiet about your secrets - and I’m fine with that. I’m fine with doing anything you ask of me,” her teeth grit together, because she doesn’t know, Krista doesn’t know just how much she would do.

“You asked me not to do anything about the fact that your father is hurting you, and it even though it kills me, I listened to you. But now I see you hurting yourself in this farcical relationship with fabricated feelings for some boy who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, and I don’t know if I can be quiet about that anymore.”

And because it’s grown too large, too much to keep inside of her anymore, she whispers, “I love you, Historia. And if you want me to let go of you, I will. But,” she brushes her lips gently against Krista’s cheek, “… You can trust me with your secrets, and your heart, if you’d let me, because I could take care of you.” She feels a warm tear roll down Krista’s cheek and her heart clenches, “… I could make you happy.”

…

ix.

“… I really appreciate you making time for this,” she murmurs, as she watches him lay the white lilies at her parent’s grave.

He always remembers, without her prompting, because the first time he’d come with her, she’d spent hours crying at their gravestone, telling him tear-filled anecdotes of the dishes her Mama cooked, the bedtime stories her Papa told, the flowers that they used to grow in their garden together (white lilies).

“C’mon Mikasa,” he rolls his eyes at her, “… we do this every year. Why wouldn’t I make time for this?” And why the hell are you thanking me?

She can’t really explain it to him, the possibly childish notion that she thought he might be too busy with his girlfriend to remember the death anniversary of her parents. She regrets doubting him, regrets that of late she’s been so clouded by petty jealousy, that she hasn’t truly appreciated how little he’s changed around her.

“It’s ridiculous,” she confesses, softly, “… you’ve given me everything. A home… A family.” She smiles at him, somewhat blurry. “But I can’t help it, every year on this day, my mind always goes back to that… moment. I lost them… in what felt like the blink of an eye.”

He tenses, as he always does when he sees her upset, or shedding a tear. There is a fundamental part of him that deeply despises the sadness on her features; it makes him feel helpless. So, he does the only thing he can - he wraps an arm around her, tucking her face into his shoulder as she snuggles into him.

“I miss them every day. But you saved me, Eren,” she whispers, dark eyes looking up at him with a gratefulness that he has never known how to accept, and never felt worthy of. “… and now I have you.”

Her voice trails off, almost wistful. “… I guess the world really can be cruel but beautiful at the same time.”

…

When he stops to think about it, he supposes it really is ridiculous it took them so long to get here. And by here he means - Mikasa wrapped securely in his arms, in his lap, on their couch, taking advantage of the privacy they’ve had all along.

He feels her tongue flick against his - it makes him shiver - and he can do little more than just wrap himself around her tighter, and sigh into her kiss. Her fingers make their way into his hair, cradling his head, pressing sweet kisses on the side of his mouth, on his jaw, and on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

And because Mikasa’s always been a quick study (she’s learnt what he likes, what he’s weak for), he stills her exploration (very reluctantly) before she goes too far.

“Are you okay…?” He whispers, rubbing a thumb along the dried tear stains on her cheek – a reminder of her tears, of knowing the pain that he’d caused her, bubbled quietly within him, having been quelled temporarily by the glorious feeling of having her in his arms.

She laughs, shaking her head, “… I love you. I can’t believe I finally get to say it.” She rests her forehead against his, a happy smile forming on her lips.

“… You could have said it ages ago; you know. No one asked you to keep it inside for this long.” Even though he teases her with his words, his lips drift back to hers, brushing softly, unable to stay away for too long.

“… Well, you never know, I actually might have said it. If it wasn’t for, you know, you having a girlfriend.” He senses the eye roll, the teasing lilt of her voice, but he can’t help but regret the time he wasted. Because even though Krista was a dear friend, and there were no ill intentions there, now that he is here, chest to chest with the girl he loves, he only wishes he’d been here sooner.

“You’re going to use that against me forever, aren’t you?”

She grins in response. “… I have a question though.”

“Shoot,” he murmurs, nibbling against her lower lip.

“… Why’d you guys break up?”

He groans, kissing her jaw testily. “… Do you really want to go into that right now?”

She hesitates, torn between potentially ruining the mood and needing to know what happened. God knows, she had spent countless nights losing sleep over the details anyway. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay, I guess…”

“It’s fine,” he says quickly, realising that if he wanted to set a precedent where she could ask him anything, then it‘s best he starts now, “… She’s in love with someone else. A girl, actually.”

Her eyes widen, not having expected that turn of events. “… Please tell me you didn’t ask for a threesome.”

“What the fuck, Mikasa, of course not!” He pulls back, offended.

“Good,” she murmurs cheekily, “I’ve raised you well.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “Speaking of ‘raising me’, you should probably stop saying stuff like that. Do you know that Connie asked if you were like a ’sister’ to me?”

He grins, seeing the shocked expression on her face. That’s exactly how he had felt when he was posed that question, with a little mortification added to the mix. “… Is that really how everyone sees our… relationship?”

His fingers drift to hers, where they rest on his chest. “We’ve been living together for a while now,” he caresses her knuckles absentmindedly, “Kids our age… they don’t really understand it, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“My turn: I have a question for you,” he murmurs. This is a question he’s long considered, stopped only by his embarrassment, fielding it from others only to put the vaguest labels on it.

“… What am I to you, Mikasa?”

The question throws her, because even though she’s told him candidly how she feels, that she loves him, she always has, he is asking her, right now, to define their relationship.

The very notion, the expression that flits on her tongue, bubbles up in her heart with an exciting warmth, even though she hopes this is just temporary, that it will grow, that Eren is so many things and will be so many things to her that she cannot possibly define right now - “… My boyfriend, of course.”

- fin -

A/N: i've been really nervous to post em, because its just been so long, and the writer that wrote chap 1 is different from the one that wrote chap 2, and honestly i dont even know if there are inconsistencies. so my request to you, dear reader, is to please let me know if i have made any fuck ups in writing this - or if you have any ideas for pacing, or storytelling that could possibly help me improve.

also there will be a chapter 3 focusing on eremika’s sexual exploration~

#eremika #erehisu #yumihisu #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #liquorisce fanfiction

33 notes · View notes

ffwriterbts · 3 years

Text

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 4

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! The sections should start getting longer as I keep updating :)

Also! Let me know if you want to be on a tag list for this story!

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: General angst; slight medical talk; mental health issues; soulmate themes if you squint

Posted: 31 Dec 2020

Masterlist

Previous Next

When YN wakes up, she is lying in what looks like a fancy hospital room. Her shoulder is on fire, there’s an IV in her hand, her leg is propped up in an almost uncomfortable way, and all the rest of her feels like she was repeatedly hit by a cement truck.

YN tries to sit up, but only makes it a few centimeters before pain wracks her body and she stops in her tracks. Her eyes snap shut and she takes a few deep breaths, doing her best to remember what happened and where she was.

And- nothing. YN doesn’t really remember anything that happened.

That is, until Jin walks into the room, and everything hits her all at once- how Jin and Yoongi came to cook, how she was going back to the garden to grab her phone when a mystery wolf tried to harm her, how Yoongi transformed into a giant black wolf, how he fought for her, how Jin helped her.

“I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon. Welcome back, YN.” Jin breaks the silence, and YN’s eyes snap up to him.

“I-” YN starts, taking a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “What happened to me?” Her voice is gruff, hoarse.

“You were attacked.” Jin gives a little shrug before continuing, “Your shoulder was bitten, your ankle broken, you have three cracked ribs, and deep tissue bruising on the side with the bite. Other than that, you’re covered in scratches and bruises from the dragging and the nasty fall you took.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, you have the same blood type as Jimin, and he was more than happy to donate for you. The wolf blood will have you healed by the end of the month for pretty much all of it. The ankle will take a little longer.” Jin shrugs again, going around and checking all of the monitors, making sure everything was good before he makes small talk with YN and helps her sit up, giving her water.

Once he is sure she is as fine as she can be, he takes a seat at the end of the bed. YN can feel her ears get hot as she realizes that he has plenty of room, seeing as her legs don’t even reach three-fourths of the way down when she’s lying, much less when she’s sitting up. She doesn’t know why she feels this embarrassment, but she does anyway, and she silently hopes that Jin doesn’t know.

“You must have questions, so why don’t I give you the full story?” Jin lightly pats where YN’s good foot is, smiling warmly at her. “If you want me to, of course.”

“Please, I feel like I’m going crazy.” YN’s voice is much softer now, as she looks at him with those big, innocent eyes of hers, sipping water.

“Well, I hope you’ve figured out by now that we are all werewolves.” Jin lets out a little laugh as YN nods softly.

“We are a hidden race among humans, almost extinct. There are a few large groups over in America, there’s a couple here, a few somewhere in Europe, and a whole bunch over in Africa. There’s also a city of only wolves and special, trusted humans in China, which is also hidden from the world. We are bigger, faster, and stronger than even the very best human. We have the ability to change into wolves whenever we want, so long as we are fully healed.” Jin takes breath, looking to YN to make sure she was following along.

YN nods, eyes trained on Jin as she listens, and he continues.

“In order to survive, we had to breed with humans, muddle the gene pool. The fastest, strongest, largest of the humans, they are all part wolf. Our pack is one of the purest here, genetically speaking, but we would be considered basically human by our ancestors. But, to be fair, some humans are able to be welcomed into packs.”

“Packs?” YN asks, head tilting slightly to one side as Jin smiles.

“Yeah, like wolf packs. There are Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, which are basically what you think they are, though there is a lot more variation than you would think. Each designation is on a sort of scale, though that scale is not something that can easily be explained.” Jin gives another half shrug, glancing up at the IV, before standing and doing something that YN didn’t understand.

“Here, let me get this changed so your body doesn’t starve or dehydrate. And I’ll let the rest of the boys know you’re awake, they’re excited to meet you and make sure you’re okay.” Jin clearly makes the move away from the subject of werewolves, and even though YN’s mind is swirling with questions, she doesn’t question the dropping of the subject.

YN assumes (correctly) that any and all questions she possibly has will be answered in time, because something about the way Jin putters around the room doing this or that feels like coming home.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next week, YN steadily gets better. Whatever it is about the werewolf blood that makes healing kick it up into overdrive was working better than expected, which all of the boys were grateful for. She had visitors every day, for most of the day, and she quickly got along with each of them.

Jin, who YN found out was actually a fully licensed medical doctor and surgeon, mandated that the boys were only allowed to go and see her in pairs, so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

And thus, YN met Hobi and Jimin almost as soon as Jin opened the door to let the boys know she was accepting visitors. She could see who she would later find out to be Jungkook and Taehyung peaking in the doorway, wanting to be included but not being allowed to be.

Both Hobi and Jimin very enthusiastically introduced themselves, taking no time at all to occupy the end of the bed that YN was far too short to occupy herself. Talking to them felt like talking to people she had known for years, and they had YN almost rolling with laughter within the first five minutes.

It was almost an hour of not-so-patient waiting on behalf of Taehyung and Jungkook before Jin came back and kicked Hobi and Jimin out, scolding them half-heartedly for not letting the other two have their time yet.

With quick apologies, those two boys slipped out of the room as two more replaced them. Again, just as enthusiastic, the two boys introduced themselves, and had YN in stitches almost too quickly.

Without a second thought, YN is talking with them for almost two hours, before Namjoon comes in and cuts them off. He kicks the two youngest out of the room, telling them that YN needs to rest sometime, that she has to heal.

Namjoon in turn takes the same spot at the end of the bed, but he is bearing gifts. Namely, the gift of her electronics from her home, a nice lap desk, and some of her very favorite sour candy.

“I figured you would want these things, seeing as you’ll be here for a while.” Namjoon smiles softly as he almost sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“Oh, thank you!” YN is much more animated than she was even an hour ago, snatching the sour candies from Namjoon’s hand as quickly as she dares to, trying her best to open the bag without moving her one arm very much.

“Do you want some help YN?” Namjoon’s voice is soft but deep, and YN nods without even a second’s hesitation, holding out the offending bag with a small pout.

Namjoon just chuckles, making small talk as he easily opens the bag, carefully handing it to YN. She lets out a grateful sigh, carefully balancing the bag in her hurt hand, and throwing candies into her mouth.

“How’d you know I like these?” YN asks absently, paying far more attention to the wonderful flavor than to Namjoon and his response.

She was tired, her body was sore, and honestly, she was more excited for her candy and the prospect of a nice long sleep than she was about anything Namjoon had to say. That was, at least, until she actually heard the words that came out of his mouth.

“Oh, we can read minds. We know all sorts of things about you.” His voice was that same even calmness, to the point that YN didn’t actually register what was said for almost a whole minute.

“You… you what?” YN pauses and looks up at Namjoon, shock and confusion written so clearly on her face that Namjoon didn’t even need to read her mind to know exactly what she was thinking.

“Hyung was supposed to tell you, but yes. It’s an innate ability of ours, and once you present you’ll probably be able to do the same.” Namjoon gives a little sort of half shrug as YN’s face just scrunches up more as she tries to fully process what Namjoon actually said.

“I can see you’re confused.” Namjoon speaks again and YN rolls her eyes without taking a second to think about how that might be perceived. Sure, the men she had met had all been incredibly kind to her, but that doesn’t mean that they’re comfortable enough to start with the half-bratty sass that YN was known for with her close friends.

“Yeah, I wonder why.” YN speaks for the first time, her eyes locking up onto Namjoons in a way that seemed out of character for the girl that he had begun to get to know. “It’s not like this is a lot to process or anything.” Sarcasm seems to drip from every pore like venom, and Namjoon pauses for the first time, slightly confused. Again, this was unlike the character that he had come to know as YN.

He’s sure YN doesn’t mean any harm by what she’s saying, that much is clear to him because of her thoughts, but he was under the impression that YN was just a sweet, mild mannered woman. Silently, Namjoon chides himself for allowing himself to believe that YN, a fully functioning adult woman, was something other than a three dimensional person with multitudes to her personality.

“May I ask some clarifying questions?” YN asks after a short silence. For the first time, she felt slightly uncomfortable in the silence, wondering if she had actually offended Namjoon inadvertently. Usually, she tried to tame the more bratty side of her personality for fear of being hurt by someone she completely offended, and it seemed to hit her all at once that these men, who were already giant in comparison to her, also held an unknown strength.

YN’s fears are assuaged when Namjoon gives her a beautiful smile, nodding his head and motioning for her to ask away.

“How much of my head can you see?” YN tilts her head to one side, not catching how strange her phrasing is until Namjoon lifts an eyebrow. By that point, too much time has passed for YN to really change her statement, and she can feel her ears getting hot as she waits for Namjoon to actually respond.

“Well, any of us can read basically any thought you have. We can also access memories, though it is incredibly frowned upon to do so, as it is sort of like torture for the person whose mind you look into for that one. But, we can also teach you how to make sure we can’t see inside your mind, and when the door to the room closes, we can’t see into anyone inside the room.” Namjoon answers with a sort of practiced nuance, which is comforting to YN in a strange way.

“Do you look at my thoughts all the time?”

“No, of course not. That wouldn’t be fair, and honestly, we don’t really look in your mind at all. You do throw off emotion, but that’s different in the first place.” Namjoon gives that same little half shrug.

“How’s it different?” YN’s voice is much softer now. There’s something about the way Namjoon speaks that makes her feel like she’s coming home.

She shakes the feeling, instead trying to focus on what Namjoon has to say.

“When in the pack, emotions are shared and felt by the other members of the pack, to varying degrees. When it comes to other wolves, we are sensitive to their emotions and have a large amount of completely non-verbal communication. Part of why you’re so interesting to us is the fact that we can feel your emotions, though you clearly aren’t fully wolf.” Namjoon pauses, brow furrowed.

“What does that mean?” YN’s expression turns to match Namjoons.

“It means you’re one of us. But also that you’re not.” Namjoon brings a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure what it means, honestly. You smell like an Omega. You act like one, mostly. But you clearly won’t be able to turn once you finish presenting, you know nothing of our world or customs, you’re absolutely tiny.”

YN shifts uncomfortably when Namjoon looks up at her, her ears heating up again, though she has no idea why she’s embarrassed. It’s not her fault she didn’t know about a hidden society of werewolves, after all.

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something else, but the door opens and Jin steps in.

“Namjoon, go separate Taehyung and Yoongi. They’re at it again. Both of them are acting like children.” Jin lets out a deep, exasperated sigh. “And you need to leave YN alone, she needs to heal. Didn’t you say the same thing to Tae and Kookie just a bit ago?”

YN can’t help but smile softly at the familiar interaction, almost laughing when Jin shoos Namjoon out of the room.

“As for you, Miss YN, you need to actually rest. Don’t be afraid to tell any of the boys to leave, they know full well that you are here to heal.” Jin gives YN a bright smile as he reaches behind her to make sure her pillows are arranged correctly.

YN nods, a grateful smile on her features. “I’ll do my best to heal well, thank you.” She speaks softly, her thoughts a jumbled mess after everything Namjoon told her, her prior annoyance and attitude melting away.

“Do you need anything else? It’s getting late enough I’m going to leave you, I know Namjoon set you up with your technology and chargers.” Jin stands in the doorway, facing YN.

“No, thank you! I’m good until tomorrow.” YN answers quickly, arranging herself so she can rest comfortably for the night.

“I’ll leave you then. If you need anything through the night, there’s a call button on the side there. Good night, YN.”

“Good night!” YN calls, watching as Jin flicks off the light and closes the door. She then proceeds to lay there, in the strange bed, and stare up at the ceiling.

It was a lot to process, everything that she’d been told.

“I’m fucking crazy.” YN groans, sighing deeply and checking her phone for the first time in what could have been weeks.

She was unsurprised to see that the only notifications she had were from her editor, sending back things for her to work on and asking for the corrections and newest works.

YN can’t help but sigh again, throwing her phone to one side and settling in better. She was thankful to the men who had saved her, and she knew somewhere deep down that she could trust them, but it was just a lot to deal with.

What did it mean that she smelled like an Omega? What the fuck did it mean to present? What did Namjoon mean when he said that she threw off emotions?

YN was confused, to say the least, but as she relaxed more and ignored the aches of her body, she realized just how tired she was. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, even with her mind swirling with question after question about what everything meant.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was three weeks before YN had the use of her arm back, her shoulder only stinging slightly when she actually used her arm properly. It was another month after that before YN could walk on her ankle, which had been almost shattered from the attack. And that whole time, YN was bonding with the boys.

She quickly found that the three youngest were incredibly physically affectionate, which YN just adored. She quickly found herself curling up beside Jimin, playing with his hair and feeling completely enveloped in his arms. Or laying across Jungkook’s lap, laughing at his facial expressions as he played his games. Or jokingly having Taehyung carry her around, lovingly calling him her “trusty steed” from her perch on his back.

She found that Jin’s love language was acts of service, which usually translated into him cooking this or that for the group. YN quickly fell into the habit of helping Jin as much as she could sitting at (or on) the counter, laughing at his dad jokes and making some of her own. She made sure that Jin didn’t forget to serve himself as well, always sneaking some of the best parts that he gave to her back into his own portion.

She found that the best way to bond with Namjoon was to just talk to him, about anything and everything, especially philosophical topics. Both YN and Namjoon loved the debate of this or that, the exchange of ideas, the passion of discussing things that others find to be boring. They would spend hours sitting in the library and reading this book or that novel, just to discuss it as soon as both of them had finished, getting off topic in that special way that isn’t really off topic, if you think about it on a deeper level.

She found that Hoseok loved to dance, loved to explore music and feel it through the movement of his body. While YN wasn’t able to stand and actually dance with him, even though she would have loved to, she did suggest new songs for him to try making routines to, bringing him water and snacks every so often. He would always ask her to stay and watch, which she did, always giving him the biggest applause she could at the end of the beautiful dances, talking his ear off about her love for movement like that, even if she couldn’t ever really do it herself.

She found, however, that it was with Yoongi that she felt the most at peace. She quickly gained access to his ever-so-exclusive “genius lab,” where he made his music. Most of the time, YN would work on her writing as Yoongi worked on his music, the studio space filled with the soft sounds of YN’s typing and the sounds of whatever Yoongi was working on. They didn’t need to talk, instead the two sat in silence most of the time, just enjoying the fact that there was someone else there who understood that being together was all that was really needed.

Every so often, Yoongi would spin around in his chair and capture YN’s attention, asking her to listen to something and give her opinions on what could be improved or changed to make the song sound better. While YN didn’t have a lick of musical experience, she was sensitive to sounds and could pick out parts that didn’t quite mesh correctly with ease, which is just what Yoongi needed.

On the flip side, when Yoongi was taking a bit of a break to stretch, YN would ask him to make certain motions or how to say certain things in different accents to help her be able to write this or that out in a way that actually made sense. Her editor was praising the way her work was coming back with less mistakes and awkward parts, and YN was absolutely loving the way she and Yoongi got along.

And yet at other points, when neither Yoongi nor YN could seem to focus long enough to get anything done, the two would lounge side by side on the couch and just talk. They never really had something specific to talk about, but YN would find herself opening up about things that she had never told anyone else. She would find herself listening intently to whatever Yoongi decided to open up about, carefully choosing her words in a way that was meant to make him feel better, without making it feel like she was dismissing the feelings that he had in the first place.

It was a system that worked, with YN falling into the routine of the home far quicker than any of them would have ever expected. She found joy in helping Jin cook, she felt loved at the unashamed touchiness of Jimin and Taehyung, and again in the much more shy touchiness of Jungkook, she found quiet appreciation in sharing music and watching Hobi, she felt wanted during the long conversations and debates with Namjoon, and she felt at peace with Yoongi.

She felt like she was home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But nothing can last forever, can it? YN knew just as much as the rest of the boys that she would have to go back to her own home eventually.

And so, after two and a half months of living with the seven men, YN was taken back to her own home.

Jin’s the one who drove her, with Namjoon riding shotgun. There was an aura of sadness the entire time, like none of them really wanted to go anywhere, but it wasn’t like YN could just move into their house.

This wasn’t a movie or some crappy romance novel, after all. It was real life, and in real life, people don’t just pack up and move into the home of people who were basically strangers.

The whole parting was quiet. YN couldn’t bring herself to actually say the word “goodbye” to either of the men who had come to make sure she got home safe, instead throwing her arms around their necks and giving them a good squeeze, wishing that she didn’t have to leave.

The whole thing rang the same as the way she had parted with the other boys before the drive, the ache settling into her chest like someone had ripped out her heart and thrown it under the tires of the car as it pulled away, tears falling freely as a sharp longing settled in her stomach.

It wasn’t until Jin and Namjoon left that YN actually cried, sobs tearing out of her throat as she crumbled to the ground, knees hitting the hardwood sharply.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, feeling like there was a hole ripped into her very being, wishing for the comfort of Yoongi’s words, or Jimin’s wonderful hugs, or of Jin’s gentle prodding to “eat well.”

Eventually, YN drug herself to her feet, stumbling to the kitchen and chugging some water before grabbing the bag she had borrowed to take her things back to her house, deciding she needed to put things away.

“Why did I let them pack the bag?” YN groans, finding quickly that she is wholly unable to actually pick the bag up, and instead has to drag it to her room. She’s silently thankful for the wood floors because she can actually slide the bag.

It isn’t until she gets to the last couple sweatshirts in the bottom of the bag that YN realizes she’d picked up a few presents from the boys. Shaking her head, she realizes why they had insisted on helping her in the first place, each of them had gifted her something small and they didn’t want her to refuse them, like they knew she would. The knowledge of how kind they were being was completely bittersweet, however, because they felt like “goodbye, at least remember us” presents.

From Jin she got the knife she quickly claimed was her favorite because it was the only one that was properly sized for her. There was a small note attached tha read “For my favorite kitchen helper, since it’s too small for me, -Jin”

YN felt the tears well up in her eyes as she carefully set the knife to the side, not wanting to accidentally hurt herself. She then reaches back into the bag, wondering what else she might find.

Hobi’s gift was next, giving her the one black headband of his that she always stole and jokingly wore around. It was wrapped around an adorable little teddy bear, with a note saying “For my favorite dancer, even if you couldn’t really do anything. Next time, I’m sure you’ll show me up -Hobi <3”

Tears were flowing down her face now, but YN couldn’t stop looking for what was next, no matter what kind of feelings arose from it.

Next she found one of the small figurines from Jungkook’s games, the one she always told him was her favorite because of it’s cool jacket. The note simply read “He might be your favorite, but you’re mine.”

YN smiled at the lack of signature, getting up and placing the figure on her nightstand, carefully angling it so it could watch over the room. Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, she reaches into the bag again, pulling out a gift that couldn’t have been from anyone but Namjoon.

It was a book that was equal parts old and beautiful, and as YN ran her finger down the spine, she took out the note that was sticking out of the book. She wiped the tears from her face before she read the note, not wanting to drip tears onto it.

“Our Miss YN,

Please don’t take this as a goodbye, but as a promise for the future. You’re just as important to us, to me, as we are to you. Remember us, remember the good, and look to when we can be together again.

-Joon”

It’s with this that YN starts sobbing again. They’re so sweet, those boys, and YN couldn’t help but feel almost lost without them. Her chest hurt like someone had shot her, a strong sort of longing that seemed endless settling into the pit of her stomach.

It takes a while this time, before she can reach into the bag again. When she does, she almost immediately has renewed cries falling from her lips.

She had pulled out the one super soft sweater of Jimin’s that she absolutely adored. She had told him that she was going to steal it from him whenever he wore it, twisting her fingers in the material and snuggling closer to him. It was soft, it smelled nice, and she knew that it would make her both look and feel tiny.

There’s no note with this one, but YN can feel the love and sincerity behind the action, draping the sweater over her legs for the time being. She reaches into the bag again, smiling as she pulls out one of Taehyung’s million beanies, wrapped around a small toy horse.

There is a note with this one, which simply reads “Horse.” It’s the most Taehyung thing YN can think of, and without a second thought, she places the horse next to the figurine, pulling the beanie on.

She doesn’t find anything else immediately, taking a minute to put the things she had gotten in safe spots and going to put away the last couple hoodies, which she knew were hers.

It isn’t until she reaches the last thing in the bag that she finds what Yoongi left her. At first, she thought it was just one of his hoodies, which she absolutely adored, but when she took it out to lay it next to the sweater Jimin had given her, something fell out of the folding.

Quickly, YN picks up whatever fell, and finds that it’s a CD. She shakes her head, knowing that Yoongi would be the kind of person to share music as a gift. She sets the CD carefully on the bed, gathering up her shower supplies and a towel, both because she needed to take them back to her bathroom, and because she needed to actually shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Once she’s freshly showered, using Hobi’s headband to keep her hair out of her face, wearing nothing but the amazingly soft sweater Jimin left her, YN settles into her bed with a CD player she found, Yoongi’s hoodie layed out beside her. Now that she had calmed down, she could smell the boys on the things they had given her. She would have been lying if she said that it wasn’t incredibly comforting to have their scent around her. It made the gaping hole in her chest feel a little less bloody, for whatever reason.

Pressing play, YN settles in, not knowing what to expect. Neither the CD nor the CD cover had any sort of writing on it, so YN had no idea what was going to be playing, or for how long. She can’t help the small smile that graces her face as Yoongi’s voice fills her space, speaking deep and slow in that comforting way YN loved.

“YN, my lovely secret keeper. You’re hearing this now because the day has come that you had to go back to your own home. I know none of us want you to leave, and if your actions have anything to say about it, you don't want to go.

You know as well as I do that things don’t always work the way we want them to, though. We will be coming to visit you, as much as we can. And we will keep an eye on you.

YN, please listen to me when I tell you I won’t let anything happen to you. It broke my heart, letting you get hurt once. And I’m not sure what I would have done if Hyung and I weren’t there when you were attacked.

If you need me, if you need any of us, we will be there. Always.”

YN curls up in a ball, hugging Yoongi’s hoodie to her chest, breathing in his scent deeply. She knew that he meant every word, that he truly would never let anything happen to her on purpose, but she also felt abandoned by him. By all of them.

She had spent the last ten weeks of her life talking to Yoongi or Namjoon when she felt bad. Going to Jimin or Taehyung for cuddles when she was lonely. Gaming with Jungkook when she was bored. Laughing with Jin while prepping meals. Doing what little dancing she could with Hobi when she was restless. Laughing as Taehyung insisted on carrying her from one room to another, even once she had healed enough to walk.

She had spent the last ten weeks evening out their teams when they played games, singing off-key on karaoke nights, fielding Taehyung’s touchiness before he got on Yoongi’s nerves (because for some reason, Tae insisted on trying to cuddle Yoongi at every opportunity), celebrating with them, helping to clean the wolves if there was a fight, stealing blankets off of every surface she could, curling into the side of whoever sat beside her in the name of stealing their boundless warmth.

She had spent ten weeks creating a space for herself in their lives, in their home. And now, it was back to living in a house that was way too big for her, with nobody to keep her accountable.

It was because of this that she cried herself to sleep, even the sound of Yoongi’s beautiful music filled the room. She missed them, more than anything. She felt like she was crying more than she ever had, and it had only been hours since she left their home.

What YN didn’t know was that the boys were missing her just as much back at their home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jin had decided to make a fancier meal than usual, because it would take more time and take his mind off of everything, but as he went about getting things done, he couldn’t help but miss seeing YN, perched precariously on the counter, babbling away about this or that as she carefully cut whatever needed to be chopped up.

He internally cringed as the thought of the time YN had slipped and almost fallen on her hurt ankle, his own quick reflexes being the only thing that had saved her from weeks of extra healing. Honestly, even though it stressed him out to no end to have her cutting things balanced the way she was, it was also something that he had come to expect. Secretly, he wished she had fallen on that ankle, because that would mean she would have still been right there, trying to out-joke the dad joke master himself.

Jungkook had holed himself away in his room, going to game, setting out a second controller without thinking about it. He had been in the middle of teaching YN how to play his favorite game, so that they could properly play together instead of having her just watch him play all the time. It felt wrong for him to have to just put away that second controller.

The feeling was just exasperated when he went to start the game and it came up with the section that they had been working through. Fondly, Jungkook remembered the way YN would bring her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated on doing things correctly, bouncing in her seat when she finally figured out how something worked. Despite the fond memories, he found himself close to tears, staring at that second controller.

Jimin and Hobi both went to the studio, deciding to dance away the hurt. Without thinking, Hobi went to ask YN what song they should freestyle to, the words dying in his throat as he turned around to talk to the girl that just wasn’t there. Jimin can see just how much pain Hobi is in, not even speaking as he brings the slightly taller man into his arms, feeling the same sense of loss.

They sunk down to the floor, neither of them wanting to talk, which in itself was strange for the two normally boisterous men. Jimin missed the feeling of having YN curled up beside him, stealing his heat. Hobi missed being able to talk to her about the dances he was doing, getting a perspective from someone who didn’t really know anything about dance. They missed her.

They didn’t realize until that moment, when the two were both trying to get the same sort of comfort from each other that they had begun to seek out YN for, how much of a hole there was in their group. Sure, they had been just fine before YN, and would be fine again without her, but there was a comfort with her that they didn’t know how to replace. Things just weren’t the same.

Taehyung busied himself with a book that Namjoon had been recommending to him about one artist that he recently found, but he couldn’t focus on the words or pictures in front of him. Instead, his mind was preoccupied with the fact that, for the past two months, he had spent this lazy time in the afternoon helping YN get from place to place, laughing with her as the others did this or that. He missed those moments, with YN laughing in his arms or on his back, even though it shouldn’t have been long enough for those feelings to settle in.

He closed the book, flopping down onto the sofa he had settled on and trying not to think too hard about what he could have been doing with YN. If he was being honest with himself, he liked having someone who was so small and easily carried around, because he liked feeling big and important in comparison to her. It was an added bonus that her personality meshed so well with his own, and that she seemed to just understand the weirder parts of his personality, instead of being put off by them like so many others.

Sure, he was one of the largest of the pack, but that didn’t mean he felt like it. By wolf standards, he was pretty close to normal, but for whatever reason, he loved the way YN would curl into his side when they were seated next to each other, mumbling about being cold, looking absolutely tiny in comparison to his own body.

Or how she’d sigh dramatically whenever she had to stand to do something, hopping around the room and never asking for help, despite the fact Taehyung would be the first to jump up and whisk her off her feet completely, just carrying her to wherever it was she needed to be, chiding her for not asking for the help she so clearly needed.

Namjoon decided to go to the library, curling up in the chair that YN usually occupied in the mornings before everyone else woke up. His mind was swirling, automatically analyzing why he felt the way he did, instead of really feeling those feelings. Absently, he stroked the spine of the book that YN had been reading, a soft smile gracing his face when he realized that it was the one he had recommended when she was still completely bedridden during those first few days.

He glanced down at the small table beside the chair, realizing for the first time that YN had left a little notebook under the book. He picks it up, flipping through it and quickly realizing that she had been taking notes over things she was eager to discuss with him, which should have made him happy, but in reality just made him feel worse because she wasn’t there to actually follow through.

Namjoon chuckled to himself as he imagined YN, absolutely tiny in the chair, curled up in one of the fluffy blankets she always seemed to be wrapped up in, lovingly devouring the book that he had recommended to her, scribbling notes onto her notepad for later. He realized absently that he had missed one of the ways that she showed her growing love and appreciation for him was through this small action, making sure that she knew what she was going to say before their discussions. Namjoon was surprised when a drop of water fell onto the page in the notebook YN had marked, not realizing until he sniffled that it was his own tears.

Yoongi locked himself up in his Genius Lab as soon as YN was in the car, headphones on as he did this or that to the song he had been working on. He tried to ignore the fact that he couldn’t hear the soft clicks of a keyboard behind him. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling of being lonely.

He had never once felt lonely in his studio, not before he started letting YN hang out on the couch as he worked.

Not until he got used to spinning around in his chair and seeing YN there, typing away on her laptop. He remembered hearing her little sighs of frustration or exasperation when something doesn’t work out quite right, her brow furrowed, her tongue sticking out slightly, with a growing fondness.

Yes, Yoongi liked being alone. He enjoyed the silence, he enjoyed his own company. He had always liked being alone, it was how he recharged. And it wasn’t until he let YN into his most private sanctum that he had ever really felt lonely.

It wasn’t until Jin rounded all of them up for dinner that they realized that every single one of them were missing YN.

“This is bullshit.”

Yoongi is the one who speaks, heads turning towards him. None of them had really been in the mood for much talking, but none of them had figured Yoongi, of all people, would be the one to break the tense silence.

“What, I know you’re all thinking it too. This is bullshit.” Yoongi glares at his plate, taking a deep breath before he looks up at the others.

“None of us wanted YN to leave. YN didn’t want to leave. And now we are all miserable.” Yoongi stands now, not bothering to push in the chair he had been sitting on.

“I don’t care what any of you do. I don’t care what the consequences are. I’m going to YN’s.” Yoongi’s eyes sweep the faces of the six boys he loves the most, a fiery intensity radiating off of him in a way that has them all flinching away from him.

“Yoongi you can’t ju-” Namjoon starts, standing and going over to try to calm Yoongi down, but a sharp growl from Yoongi makes him stop in his tracks.

“No!” Yoongi’s voice drops an octave as he steps closer to Namjoon himself, squaring up with the leader in a way that could very easily lead to a fight.

“You know as well as I do Alpha,” Yoongi spits the word like it’s acid on his tongue. “she smells like one of us. She has our scent all over her. If they find out we let her go, that we aren’t around her all the time anymore, they’re going to kill her.”

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something, anger bubbling up in him like a cursed well, when Jin stands, pushing himself between the two Alphas.

“Both of you! Stop it!” Jin stands, making sure each of them are an arm’s length away from each other. “We all miss YN, but there’s a reason she’s not here. As much as it might seem like it, she isn’t one of us. She doesn’t belong with us.”

The other boys are all standing now, helping to make sure Yoongi and Namjoon stay away from each other, trying to calm both of them down. A fight between the Alphas would not end well.

“How could you say that?” It’s Hoseok who speaks this time, his voice sounding oddly small.

“Because it’s been almost a hundred years since there was a lost Omega! You all know how rare they are, seeing how strong the Omega gene is. We knew her uncle, and he didn’t have a lick of wolf in him, even if she managed to somehow get some wolf in her, it can’t be enough for her to be able to pack bond.” Jin flicks his eyes between the other boys, focusing his attention on keeping Namjoon behind him.

It’s silent for what feels like hours.

“Then why do I feel like I lost a piece of me, huh?” It’s Taehyung who speaks up this time, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, tears rising in his eyes. “Explain that, Hyung.” His voice is barely above a whisper, choked out over a growing lump in his throat.

“I-” Jin starts, the words dying in his throat as he watches Taehyung turn into the closest person, seeking the comfort of someone else.

For once, Yoongi opened his arms to Taehyung, glaring at Jin from over the other man’s shoulder, trying to comfort him.

“I don’t know.” Jin finally admits, his face falling.

Again, the room falls silent, only the soft sniffles of Taehyung breaking the deafening quiet of the room.

“I think we all feel the way Tae does, don’t we?” Namjoon speaks for the first time in a while, the anger he had felt having finally subsided almost completely. There are nods from everyone.

“The feeling is new, and we don’t want to make a mistake. If we report YN as being lost, she will become a target. If we don’t, we will. Let’s wait for at least a week before we approach her again.” Namjoon eyes the others in the room. “But let’s keep patrols heavy in her part of the woods.”

Yoongi glares at Namjoon, thoughts swirling. A whole week without YN, knowing that she’s in pain being away from them? It sounded like downright torture to him.

“Yoongi, Hyung, you know how big of a deal it is to be the pack with a lost Omega. She’ll become a target, just because she can’t handle half as much as we can. It’d be easy to not only to just kill her, but to break her spirit, to force her to tell them about our weaknesses as a pack. She’d have to be with at least one of us almost all the time, have to live with us. She’d have to give up big parts of her freedom, and the YN we know wouldn’t enjoy that at all.” Namjoon pauses, taking a deep breath.

“We have to be sure before we approach her with this. For all we know, she won’t ever fully present and YN isn’t really one of the lost at all.” Namjoon brings a hand up to rub at his temple, a headache starting from the strong mix of emotions.

Yoongi sighs, Taehyung finally detaching himself from the smaller man as Yoongi runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re right Joon. I know you’re right.” He lets out another, more exasperated sigh before he continues, “It’s just hard, ya know? Waiting another week feels like torture, because I know, I know, that YN is hurting. And we caused it.”

The other boys nod, giving murmurs of agreement as they start to dissipate, their meal forgotten as they begin to retreat again. For whatever reason, even the most other-person oriented of the pack wanted to be alone, wanted to have a minute to process everything that was going on by themselves.

“Jin, Yoongi. Can we go talk further in the office? We need to actually figure out what to do next.” Namjoon catches Jin by the shoulder before he walks out of the room, reaching for Yoongi as well, even though he was across the room.

Yoongi just nods, Jin letting out a short hum of approval. The trio then turn in unison, heading out towards the office space that Namjoon used so often.

113 notes · View notes

beann-e · 3 years

Text

um wow , idk what to say i’m a bit flustered but i hope i say it right. I was only gone for a couple of days and this is what I come back to. 😮 Tysm guys I love you all thank you for taking the time out of your scrolls to even follow me >:’) So, I decided to follow through on my haikyu x police force idea and here it is a sneak peek! I hope you enjoy !

May 1 , 2021

-recording take one

" I am under oath to tell you that everything being said here today will be used to further the investigation against yourself. That being said If you choose to answer a question or provide a statement I will have no choice but to write it down to be processed and turned into someone of higher authority than me is that clear "

" i'd say that's a bit — well stupid to me saying yes when your the highest fish on the food chain no? "

" what else can I say except lucky you that everything you say won't be passed around and relayed much less having your words twisted by those listening "

" cute "

" i'd say same goes to you if you weren't chained up in front of me right now — I might've just asked you out on a date "

" i'm free friday at 10 — though it's in the morning so I pose the question— Would you like to sneak me from my court case baby I promise i’ll make it up to you "

" mm i'll think about it seeing as though i'm the one escorting you to your new cell anyways we might just have to have a uh a talk inside hmm"

" what no balls ? "

" sadly none —or at least physically seeing as though i'm a woman "

" I never would've guessed if it wasn't for the way that suit hugs your curves — your pretty full out huh you must be fun "

" i've gotten that before though people tend to say i’m a bit more fun elsewhere "

" aw you wound me you didn’t tell me I had competition babe “

" of course not your first in line in my eyes, it sucks that the ring on my finger says differently though "

" isn't that sweet I might just have to take you up on your offer "

" oh? didn't think you'd be so excited ,much less interested on being the first one on my list to be put in jail but, I guess i'll try my best to speed your trial up for you if that's what you want "

The rooms silence was heavy as the camera panned the room. Your fingers silently being clawed into the table as it drained all your anger from you.

Your shoe tapping against the floor with a slight grimace appearing on your face when you heard the buttons on the camera in front of you being pressed.

" what no slick comment ? " A heartfelt laugh moved to fill the once silent room as you watched small hands wrap around the camera and fix it to where it showed nothing but your upset face—fingertips slamming down one by one on the table

" don't you have a fucking job to do glasses "

" aw what happened no more flirty y/n ? "

"your an asshole— I don’t know why I expected much in the first place seeing as though you were trained under him "

" such a foul mouth — you do know this is going on your transcripts right ? " the eyes in front of you narrowing on you the voice only coming out in mock care for your situation " you wouldn't want the jury — much less the judge reading this when their deciding your sentence right ? "

Your fingers glided over the table and into a fist in front of you as your head went to look down at the table

" you've grown submissive so fast "

" I find it hard to believe you don't like that kind of thing fucking pervert "

" aw you wound me — but if I had to supply you with an answer to your question— I can imagine your dying to know since you've been flirting with a married woman this whole time "

" married? "

" I know your observant y/n you have to be " the next words making you breathe heavily " I mean the way you noticed your s/o was cheating before they could even notice themselves is just wow"

The click of the door being heard as a deep voice made its way in the room " Kiyoko your not allowed in here "

" I have just as much right to be in here as anyone else — "

" but I could’ve sworn I just said you don't — so again why the hell are you in here ? "

The room turning cold with the woman in front of you straightening herself up not wanting to go back and forth with the male in front of her but, at the same time not wanting to come across as small, being seen as a woman down here was hard much less having your own husband be relatively close to the one in charge " I came down here to test out inmate 4890 psyche"

" did anyone give you that kind of permission? that kind of clearance ? to even get down here in the first place ? "

" I mean their hidden underground so i'd say their the main event down here "

" you can't just come down here to see it whenever you see fit "

" but I was interested in the way it's mind works "

" what the hell am I an attraction at sea world? "

" your whatever the fuck I want you to be " your once strong eyes were met with brown ones that held your gaze almost testing you— daring you.

You seeing the hate swirl with annoyance meeting to radiate off of him. His face made up in a snarl as he finally turned his whole body to you.

Arms crossed across his chest eyes now lazily focused on you causing a chill to move through your spine. Youd never wanted to grow submissive to anyone and you never had not in all your years of living so why were you now?

Kiyokos eyes moving from between you to the male in front of her and back. Her body already telling you she knew something was off by the way you'd just been playful with her until you felt the energy shift by someone elses approach showing how easily your personality could changed.

Something was off and she was interested

" if necessary I can always stay and play mediato— "

" your ok " he smiled widely " we're fine together — down here "

your body shifted in the seat wrists being pulled back and down to the table by the chain in front of you when you heard his claim.

" y/n ' s good with that — their fine ive known them a long time I can speak for them — we’ve done this before countless times this isn't their first crime maybe one of this stature yes but "

" mhmm " the woman in front of you shook her head lightly before leaving the room your heart clenching tightly when you heard the door click closed

" I just wanna do my job and then i'll get out ok y/n " the fake sympathy in his voice shining through as he put down his clipboard on the table before standing behind the chair at the table across from you

" god " his voice was heavy as he spoke " it's like you get hotter and hotter everytime we see each other " his body moving around the small rectangular table " it's such a shame "

Your body tensing when you felt him nearing you only to keep going past you.

Body letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding only to restore another one when you heard the click of the camera turning off and powering down.

Your eyes darting around the room to watch him out of the corner of them reaching up to turn off the corner camera that showed the police force what was happening in the room

Not that they would care seeing as though he was chief he could do anything he wanted to you and not have to tell anyone in his unit. It didn't help that you were a world renowned criminal now you'd fully fucked this up for yourself

" crazy how your fucked yourself over " his words only confirming the thought in your head " you were only into petty crimes before so I could barely get my hands on you i'd always have to pass you over to everyone else because no one of my status ever needed to intervene — though I would've loved to— just to feel the way your face would drop anytime I entered the room or to even feel the shift in your attitude like I felt earlier— holy fuck is that powerful and now look at you "

He laughed at your body that sat slumped in your chair trying to cover your face with the cuffs on the table " pathetically sitting in a room bawling your eyes out in front of me "

His words only feeling closer now as his breath hit your ear.

Heat from his mouth moving to your neck instantly causing you to scoot away only for him to grab the back of your neck " have you no respect for yourself "

You gritted your teeth together at his hold on you " I said have you no respect for yourself "

You bit at your lip trying to decide what to say you always wanted to spit a comeback at the male but right now was definitely not the time with his heavy hand on your neck moving slowly into your hair to grip tighter

"ah every single time we do this — it's almost even more pathetic than the droplets I keep seeing falling and landing on my perfect fucking table that I bought with company’s money— fuck their gonna cut my paycheck "

His hand tightening as he spoke again " one more time asshole " his voice held all the rudeness to it " have you no respect for yourself "

" y-"

The action was quick as he slammed your head hard into the table in front of you. your vision blurring before he sighed blood dripping from your forehead and leaking out of your nose onto your lips as it trembled slightly

" ugh I hate when this happens with you —- you always bleed so fucking easily " he huffed " I ask you something you answer learn something about respect for once in your life and maybe you'll take better care of yourself "

He scoffed " your so fucking pretty and yet you do things like this — you slut yourself out in my business and then turn around and get arrested god your such a fucking ditz "

your head being brought to meet the table once again as you whimpered tears mixing with your blood brain muddied and shut down by his actions

" i'm so tired — so so tired of sweeping everything you do under the rug— I mean you act like I can’t fucking see you y/n i run the whole fucking thing I don’t— I don’t understand you your just fucking stupid so so so stupid it just blinds me and throws me for a loop sometimes "

His voice was low almost as if he only wanted you to feel the weight of his words " and then you never even say fucking sorry " he pushed your head down again " i'm the fucking cleanup crew ,, the shitty bodyguard when you drag yourself in some mess ,, the contact list when you need a plug ,, the boss when you need a job i'm fucking tired y/n "

" I know I know and i'm— im so sorry really please i'm sorry "

you braced yourself for another push as he backed away the heavy hand leaving your neck as he peered down at your head that was still hovering over the table

" what the fuck do you want another bash ?What are you doing "

" no — no please no”

" then bring your head up — god you seriously take your role on as the youngest dont you " he sighed as he moved his hands to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Your eyes darting to the camera kiyoko left and feeling hope enter your body thinking of how she would see the whole scene that’s played out with the male in front of you

" your not staying here "

" what—what "

" you can't — I dont want you here— i’m outta this your not my responsibility anymore your 19 now so I don’t know what to say except get it to fucking gether — you stay here your never gonna go to jail you'd just stay in a confined room for moths — fuck i’m always getting dragged in this shit "

" how — what do I do — what am I gonna do "

" the hell do you mean ? what am I gonna do ? as if the shits not obvious your gonna do fucking nothing while everyone else does all the work for you again "

your voice grew quiet as he scoffed " that's what I thought god — one day i'm gonna get fired "

your eyes darted to the camera and back down " for what exactly "

his eyebrows creased as he stared at you eyes moving all around your face before he spoke ignoring your question " you got yourself in some real bad shit this time y/n "

" but it wasn't even my fau— "

" you don't say shit — you know it wasn't suppose to go down like that and when one goes down we go down together you swore it— that’s how you got our trust don’t fuck yourself over again or you’ll be down in hell by yourself "

" like what ? "

" don't fuck with me y/n "

he moved to grab his clipboard your body lifting when he walked off and forgot about the camera only to drop the clipboard to the floor with a loud clang and start using his shoe to tear the papers apart

" wh-what are you doing " your voice came out soft as your eyebrows creased

His body moving over to the table and throwing the camera youd just put all your hope into someone seeing what you went through being thrown to the ground and stepped on harshly with the heel of his shoes.

Though it wasn't broken broken it was unsalvageable and couldn't be fixed your eyes going wide unable to process anything before he walked to the door and opened it his hand coming up to cup around his mouth

" THEIR ATTACKING " he screamed your body trembling at the way the table shook along with it " calling all units anyone in the vicinity the inmate I am locked up with is having a tantrum of some kind and I do not think I can handle it alone "

Your heart broke as you watched the male in front of you turn back to look at you holding nothing but hate in his eyes " I ask that you help me remove the inmate and get them out of our station immediately "

Several people running in cleaning up the scene and taking pictures before someone uncuffed you and dragged you towards the tall male by the door.

" Chief where do you want em "

" I want em on the next bus to tokyo "

Your head swirling " wh— "

" everyone exit while I talk to the inmate quickly alerting them of their next adventure " everyone moving silently to follow his demands his eyes going directly to yours as everyone raced down the hallway and away from you two

" your going to tokyo — I can't fucking do this — "

" but what would I do there's no one "

" go see bokutou — at this point you've pissed me off I can't do much else for you just — go ask for a new life really " his voice came out in a short laugh at his ending words

" boku— "

" y/n I said i'm pissed off and done with you — you keep interfering with my job and honestly this murder charge was the last strike for me— your of age now I can’t get you outta this shit— so if you could just get a new identity and get the hell away from me id seriously appreciate it "

" daichi I "

" you don't say anything "

" your my — your my brother we’re suppose to be there for each other and you "

" i'm not your anything as of right now you prick " his voice was sharp and held meaning as he snapped at uou " not your brother — your friend — your back up call when you get into weird shit I — I wanted to be a nice police officer and move my way up to chief I wanted to have kids a — a family y/n " he scoffdd " not a shitty sibling who keeps using my job against me and has me pulling strings that shouldn't even exists "

" but "

" you see how I keep cutting you off it's because I don't want to hear you y/n — you annoy the fuck out of me so seriously " he moved his shoulder to glide through the doorframe and past you "just go do what you criminal assholes do and get a new identity and the fuck away from me as soon as possible I want nothing to do with you "

" sooooo thats how you ended up with me " the air in the new room shifted from confusing to happiness as the dual colored male in front of you screamed " THATS AWESOME YOU HAVE SUCH A BADASS BACK STORY "

He jumped up and covered his face dramatically before he spoke "twas a dark night when y/n changed their ways and gave birth to a criminal — a murdering criminal who came to the one and the only — bokuto koutaro the amazingily cool , strong , funny , king of connections — thus creating a beautiful friendship and a dark and powerful villian story "

He smiled at your beat and battered face youd received from your brother a day ago before he spoke again his hair drooping slightly " too much ? "

22 notes · View notes

yourlocallovesickie · 3 years

Note

Hey could you please maybe write a very stubborn patient A (with flu and high fever) still denied everything even when he was in ER and the doctor B had to stay professional and patient to take care of this very delirious yet still difficult whumpee? Thx

Hey look at me finally answering asks! Sorry this is incredibly late, but I hope you enjoy it!

Kichi sighed as she looked down at the familiar name jotted down on her clipboard. She turned the corner into the white hospital room and saw the owner of the name; Alex, and boy did he look bad. His face was as white as the walls save for the hot red of his cheeks, and even the freckles that coated his face looked drained. He lay squirming on the hospital bed, an IV hooked up to one of his arms. He perked up immediately when she entered, his eyes half-lidded and glassy, and her smirked upon recognizing her.

“Fancy meeting you here.” He croaked. His voice was weak, cracking at practically every syllable, and Kichi sighed again, skimming over her notes.

“Couldn’t say the same. Looks like someone forgot to pack an extra water for practice,” she teased. Alex groaned and brushed her off.

“I’m fine.”

“Is that why you’re in the ER?” Alex’s cheeks went a brighter shade of red and he shrank below the generic hospital covers, grumbling something along the lines of ‘fuck off i’m fine’ with a lack of comeback. “Listen, I know you don’t want to be here and for your sake I’d rather you not be either.”

“Then let me leave.”

“I both morally and legally cannot discharge you until you’ve been treated. Now come on, let’s act like adults here.” Though his face was still partially hidden below the covers she swore she could see him stick his tongue out at her before turning towards the wall. Kichi could feel the annoyance building up inside her. Alex had always been like this, and she knew that this was just him being difficult to mask how shitty he was actually feeling, but it was frusturated nonetheless. But if he was going to act like a child, then she was going to have to treat him like one as well. “Fine. If you really aren’t ready to cooperate I suppose we’ll just have to keep you overnight. I’ll send your nurse in with your dinner in a few hours.” Gathering up her clipboard, she turned to leave, and she fully expected him to stop her before she even got to the door, but he called her bluff, and against her better judgment, she left, glancing down at her clipboard as she exited into the hallway to see where she was needed next.

“Wait.” A shameful voice called out to her, and she stopped, masking her smile with false surprise and going back into the room. Alex had emerged from the blankets, and was staring down at the floor as he spoke, short and harshly. “Fine, just do whatever stupid tests you have to so I can get the fuck out of here.” With a cheerful nod, Kichi got out a tray of supplies that waited by the bed and began her examinations, Alex, as expected, fighting her the entire way. He spat the medicine back out when he thought she wasn’t looking, dodging the thermometer when she tried to slip it in his mouth, and responding in only questions and sarcastic remarks to all of her questions. It took an hour and a half longer than it should have, but eventually she finally had at least an idea of everything she needed, and Alex was finally seeming to calm down. His guard visibly dropped as he laid back against the small stack of pillows that had helped to prop up his limp body previously, and he barely offered a sarcastic remark as Kichi was packing up. As she left, she made sure to turn off the light, and after making sure no one was in view, gave him a small peck on the forehead, feeling his fever burn against her lips.

“Goodnight, Alex. Feel better soon.” As she gathered up the last of her things, checking back over her clipboard to see where she would be next, she heard the faintest mumble behind her.

“G’night.”

#sickfic #my writing #sickies #fever #flu #fluff #whump writing #whump drabble #whumpee

10 notes · View notes

mell-bell · 4 years

Text

Fight so dirty (but your love so sweet) - Part IV

The Mandalorian x Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

Words: 5436

Series Summary: You are sent to hunt down a Mandalorian, the odds aren’t exactly in your favor

Chapter: 4/8

Author’s notes: Seriously you guys are still the best I love every single one of you!!! All of your comments make my day. I bumped up the chapter count to 7 chapters now because that’s what I have outlined, but it may go up farther in the future depending on my storyline! I had a few issues writing this chapter mostly because my brain kept arguing with my thought process so hopefully, it turned out well. Also, I think I tagged everyone who asked, if not please just drop me a message! Hope you guys enjoy!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What about this?” You motioned to a small brown coat.

The little green child chittered softly, his ears tilting downward as he turned waddling off toward the next cart.

You sighed, quickly wishing the owner of the cart a good day before taking off after the child, who had somehow already waddled five carts down.

It had been two weeks since you won the Competition. And all was going well. The money you had won from the bounty was more than you knew what to do with.

You had put the majority of it aside for a rainy day. But the rest you decided to use to make life on the run a little more comfortable.

The Mandalorian had landed the ship on this planet a few days ago, claiming it was a good place to find mechanics and parts for the ship. With the money you had now, he wanted to update and fortify it since bounty hunters were coming after you left and right.

Just last week a ship had jumped out of hyperspace and began shooting before you even knew he was there. You had strapped yourself and the child into your seats as the Mandalorian chased the hunter down and killed him.

So, while the Mandalorian remained with the ship, you took the little one out to buy some clothes for him, the Mandalorian and yourself.

You had been in the market place for hours. You had managed to buy a few things for yourself and the Mandalorian, but when it came to the little, he disliked everything. You pointed things out and let him decide if he liked it or not. But so far he hadn’t liked anything.

He toddled around, bringing smiles to people’s faces when he reached his little hand out to greet them. He was becoming less reserved with strangers and you smiled every time his ears flicked up and he chittered happily.

He had grown since you met him five months ago and he seemed to be able to communicate more. He had even grown stronger in his powers. Training with him every day seemed to help. Even if it was just as simple as a game of catch with his favorite ball.

It was nearing dusk when the child eventually pulled on a red cape, much like your own. You turned to the woman at the cart and asked her if she could make one about his size. When she nodded you pressed the credits into her hand with a warm smile.

When you made it back to the ship, you placed the little green child on the ground and he took off toward the Mandalorian babbling happily. The man looked down, nodding back as if he understood what the child was saying.

Stepping up next to him, you sat down beside where he was working, leaning your head back against the cold metal of the ship.

“There are some helpers available for hire in the market. I was thinking of hiring a few to help you finish the ship.”

The man stood, brushing off the sand from his pants, “I can go scout them out.”

He went to walk past you, but you shot up stepping in his way, placing your hand on his beskar armor, pushing him back gently.

“You know you need to stay hidden. You can’t blend in here. I can.”

“I can do more.” His voice was deeper than normal.

Your hand patted his armor, “You’re doing enough. You can relax now.”

“I just want to protect you.” He said.

You froze and he cleared his throat, “And him.” He gestured to the little one who was chasing after a rodent looking creature.

You smiled, “I know but I need you safe and that means you need to stay in here. I’m gonna feel them out and pick up some things I bought earlier. Stay here.”

His gaze remained on you as you left the hangar, only moving when he lost sight of you.

The green child next to him cooed and he glanced down, “Stop it.” He said.

When you made it back into town you stopped to grab some other necessities. This was a nice planet. The people were kind. And there was an abundance of crops and materials for sale.

Sometimes you wished you could settle down again, in a place like this. But somehow you figured it just wasn’t in the cards for you.

You couldn’t imagine life without your Mandalorian now. He had somehow become your family. You couldn’t leave him. Even for the chance at a normal life.

After you picked up the tiny red cape and other clothes the woman had made, you stopped by the cantina to grab some food. As you sat in the back corner, enjoying your food, the table next to you began to talk in hushed whispers. Your ears strained and when you heard the word “Empire” you stiffened.

You hunched over pulling up your hood to hide your face as listened. It wasn’t much longer before they left and when they did, you threw credits on the table, before taking off out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late when you arrived back at the hangar. The Mandalorian had long since stopped working because of the darkness that had fallen over the planet. You stormed up the ramp of the ship, startling the little green child who had been levitating a tool to the Mandalorian, the tool falling on the man’s head.

“You won’t believe what I just heard.”

The Mandalorian sat up fast, his helmet hitting the bottom of the ship.

You motioned, “Meet me inside.”

When he came storming through the door, the little green child in his arms, you began to tell him what you had heard.

But instead of being excited like you had expected, his body was tense.

“This is what we’ve been waiting for!” You exclaimed.

The man sighed, “I don’t know if we’re ready.”

“Something is brewing we’re gonna need help. You said it’s time to fight back. So let’s fight back.”

His voice was gruff, “What if it’s a setup?”

“What if it isn’t?” You shot back, “I think we should take the chance. We could finally get the intel we need.”

You stood and began to pace and the man looked at you worried.

You began to mumble, “We’re going to need help, maybe I could call one of my old contacts, but I don’t know if Commander Trax put a track on them. I don’t know if I want to get anybody involved in this.”

The Mandalorian stepped up, placing his hand on your shoulder, taking your comm out of your hand, “I have somebody.”

“You have friends?” You teased.

“Acquaintance.”

He quickly typed in a message and waited just a minute before it beeped back. He handed it to you.

“She’s on her way.”

“Just like that?” You questioned.

“Just like that.”

As you gathered what you needed in the carbo bay, you heard boots echoed on the ramp of the ship. You weren’t expecting anyone to arrive so fast, so when a strange woman entered the cargo bay, your blaster was out and aimed at her head.

In your defense, she attacked first.

Having the higher ground, you managed to knock her down quickly, flinging her blaster out of the ship. With a grunt, she swung out her leg trying to knock your feet out from beneath you. But as her leg rose, you grabbed it, flipping her over and pinning her to the ground.

You had been sparring more and more with the Mandalorian every morning to strengthen yourself. And it was working.

You smiled as you held her down as she struggled.

The Mandalorian stepped out from the main room, his head swiveling between the two of you.

He sighed, before walking over to you. Kicking your side lightly, you looked up at him before your gaze swung back to the woman beneath you.

“This is your friend isn’t it?”

“Acquaintance.” They both said at the same time.

You stood, holding out a hand to help her up.

The woman took it, pulling herself up.

Looking you up and down she smiled, “I like this one.”

Your eyes narrowed as you held out your hand. She took it.

“I’m Cara.”

The Mandalorian sighed.

The woman stretched as she walked around the ship, looking at the supplies you had been pulling out, “So what am I helping with?”

“I’m going to infiltrate an Empire gala.”

The Mandalorian’s head swiveled to yours fast, “That is not what we decided.”

“It’s the only possible option. You definitely can’t go. Pretty sure she can’t go either. So it’s on me.” You shrugged.

“But you just-”

You held up your hand, cutting him off, “I’ll be fine. I’m back in fighting shape. I won the Competition. I’m doing fine.”

“You’re barely fully healed, you need to give your body a break.”

“This is only an intel mission, there shouldn’t even be any fighting.” You argued back.

Cara tsked, “Hey no parental fighting in front of the child.”

The green child babbled as he walked up to the warrior woman, who bent down to say hello.

“I’ll do as I damn well please.” You said glaring at the Mandalorian, “I’m going.”

“Fine.” He turned on his heel and stalked off the ship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tugged nervously at your clothes as you peered out of the alley at the building across the street.

Your hands shook as you made sure your panic button was in place and hidden. You sighed, balling your hands tight. He had gotten into your head. You knew it was just because he was worried. But you couldn’t infiltrate this Gala feeling insecure.

You took a deep breath running through the plan in your head one more time.

Stepping out from the alley, you lifted your head high as you weaved in and out of the townspeople. One guard stood at the entrance, but you could tell that there were others hidden amongst the normal citizens, their clothes just a little too expensive, their gazes following you as you strode up to the door.

Up close, you could see through the stained glass window. Dozens of people, drowning in glittering jewels and beautiful dresses and suits. You knew your outfit would help you fit in, but you hoped, your lack of knowledge of high society affairs wouldn’t make you stand out too much.

You walked up to the door your steps hesitating slightly as your heart started beating, unsure if you were prepared for this, not paying attention until the guard at the door barked at you.

Eyes wide you stepped up to him and you were about to walk in when the man stopped you, his arm outstretched.

You panicked, not knowing what he was expecting when a voice sounded behind you.

“They’re with me.”

You nodded at the guard, before turning to the man now beside you, “Thank you.”

The man before you was impeccably dressed. And though he had a smile on his face, his eyes were cold.

“No, thank you. You look like the most interesting person here.” He looked you up and down, “What is your connection to the Empire? Your father?”

As you made it past the foyer and into the ballroom, your eyes grew wide at the strands of lights, the soft music playing, and the abundance of people. Turning back to the man beside you, you realized you hadn’t answered his question.

“Sorry, yes. He was murdered by the rebellion.”

He nodded solemnly, motioning for you to continue following him, weaving the two of you farther into the room.

“Ah, don’t worry they will all be eradicated one day soon.” He waved his hand absent-mindedly as his other grabbed two drinks off of one of the waiter's trays, handing one to you.

You hid your grimace behind your glass, “And you are?”

“Oh, I am Governor Moff Gideon, at your service. Well... former Governor according to those rebel scums who took down our Empire.”

You swallowed heavily your eyes wide and you stopped yourself from taking an instinctive step back.

“I take it you know of me.” The smile that graced his face was twisted.

You bowed your head slightly trying to hide the fear crossing your face, “Of course, I am so sorry to impose, I will leave you alone.”

“No please.” He motioned, “Join me.”

As he led you deeper into the room, you glanced one more time behind you losing sight of the entrance, hoping that your Mandalorian was still keeping an eye on you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mandalorian laid perched on the roof across the street, his macrobinoculars following your every move.

“Everything will be fine, you don’t have to keep such a close eye.” Cara drawled, she was stretched out beside him, resting back against the wall, her eyes closed.

“Something might go wrong.” He mumbled, watching as you made your way inside the building. His eyes focusing in on the man at your side.

“You mean something might happen to your precious crewmember.” She goaded.

“What?” He growled.

She chuckled, her legs bouncing restlessly, “Oh, nothing. Just wondering when that’s going to become a thing.”

“Nothing’s going on.” He snapped.

“Sure. But you might want to make a move before someone else does.”

He stiffened as he saw you continue to walk through the room, the man who had been beside you when you entered still at your side. He watched as you stopped, holding out your hand to people in front of you.

He whistled to get Cara’s attention and held out his binoculars to her.

“Who is that?”

She took them with a roll of her eyes, putting the binoculars up to her eyes, “Ah, old governor Gideon. That man is a piece of work. Killed more people than he saved. He’s the one that’s been gathering Empire supporters.”

The Mandalorian pushed to get up, but Cara kicked out, knocking him back down.

“Stop, if you rush in there there’s a better chance of everything going to shit. Stay here and watch. It’ll be fine.”

He ripped the binoculars from her hands and looked through them once again, more tense than usual.

As the minutes passed, he began to relax. You seemed calm as you maneuvered your way through the ballroom. However, when he recognized a familiar face walk past the window, his heart stopped. He jumped up and was down onto the street before Cara could even move an inch.

Before he reached the front door, Cara tackled him, shoving him into the alley adjacent to the building.

“Are you insane?” She hissed.

He pointed toward the ballroom, “Fennec Shand is in there.”

“The assassin?” Cara sounded impressed.

“We need to abort.” He started forward again, but she pushed him back against the wall.

Voices echoed down the alley as two imperial guards walked past where they were hidden. The two held their breaths, sighing in relief when they continued past clueless of what lurked in the shadows.

Cara turned back to the Mandalorian.

“No,” She growled, “We wait for the signal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t easy getting away from the former Governor. You weren’t sure why he had put his sights on you.

He introduced you to many people and you mentally tried to keep track of them all. Names were flying in one ear and out the other. Most were wealthy citizens from across the galaxy. People who figured putting their stock in the Empire would help them make more money.

But they weren’t important in the long run.

The people you had to pay attention to were the Imperial generals and the ever rarer rebels turned Imperials.

Every so often you would peek a glance out the window, knowing that your Mandalorian was watching. But you were here alone, even if he was just a step away.

The first time somebody asked you why you hated the rebels, you froze. Before you could stop yourself the words spilled from your mouth tasting like poison on your tongue. As you spewed obscenities about the rebellion and how wonderful it would be to reinstate the Empire to its glory, the wealthy men and women fervently nodded in agreement.

A few even asked if you were available for hire for they needed reliable people to work for them. With a feigned smile, you just waved your hand saying you already had employment that paid well.

As the music swelled and the former Governor finally turned his attention from you, you managed to slip away, weaving in and out of the men and women, catching pieces of conversations here and there.

“Did you hear how he died? Apparently, his building collapsed on him.”

“Well, I heard he was murdered by a Mandalorian.”

Your heart pounded as you slipped into a side hallway, the music and loud conversations fading away to nothing.

You leaned against the wall for a second longer than necessary to pull yourself together.

Pulling out a tiny device, you placed it on the wall near the ground before you continued down the hallway.

You walked down the hall nonchalantly, waiting for a guard to make his appearance. When you rounded the corner, you came face to face with one.

The guard startled, reaching out, grabbing onto you, “Excuse me. No one is allowed back here.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You turned, allowing him to walk you back to the door you had slipped through.

When you reached the door, you turned to look down to see the guard standing next to the device you had placed on the wall. With a smile, you pressed the button on the remote in your hand. The device beeped rapidly, and before he could move, an electric shock shooting out from the device hitting the guard where he stood.

He fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Peering around making sure that no one had heard, you took off down the hallway. When you finally reached the locked door at the end of the hall you dropped to your knees. Pulling out your kit and began picking the lock.

“Come on. Come on.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Hey!”

A guard at the end of the hall started running towards you and you quickly pushed the panic button the Mandalorian had slipped you earlier.

You stood, putting your hands up and smiled. The guard’s brows furrowed as he made his way down the hall, his blaster aimed at you. And then the world exploded.

You dropped to the ground, the wall at the far end of the hall blowing out. The guard flying.

Quickly getting back up you went back to working on the door.

With a trained ear, you listened as your friends made their appearance.

“I am looking for someone.” His voice was loud as he shouted over the frenzied screaming of the elite.

You smiled as the handle finally gave way under your hand and you slipped through the door.

Closing the door slowly and quietly, you turned around and quickly scanned the room. You only had a few minutes. You looked under the desk, in the cabinets, between the couch cushions. For a hidden hatch beneath the carpet. It wasn’t until you made it to the bookshelf when you finally saw a button poking out slightly behind one of the books.

Smiling, you pushed it and a hidden compartment popped out, a folder of papers there. You grabbed them, closing the compartment quietly. Just as you took a step toward the door, the handle turned and you froze. Just before the door opened you stepped to hide behind the bookshelf.

A mirror on the back wall allowed you to watch as the Governor walked into the room, a woman following closely behind him.

“Sir, that was the Mandalorian I encountered on Tatooine.”

“I figured as much.” He fumed.

“I can go kill –“

“Later. We need to get the paperwork to the Supreme.” You clutched the papers tighter to your chest.

You listened as he walked toward the bookshelf, just a foot away from you.

When you heard the compartment click open, you squeezed yourself tighter against the wall. His hand slammed against the bookshelf, the whole thing rattling, objects collapsing to the ground.

“Nobody leaves this building! Find it!”

You breathed a sigh of relief when the man stalked out of the room and the woman began to follow. But as if she could hear your breathing, she turned, her gaze scanning the room. You could hear her footsteps grow closer to your hiding spot. You pulled yourself tighter against the wall.

You could just see her shoulder when a shout came from down the hall and the woman turned on her heel and left.

Collapsing to the ground in relief, you quickly shoved the files you had stolen beneath your clothes. Rushing quietly toward the door, you opened it slightly, slipping out into the hall. Your head swung left and right, not sure which way. Taking off toward the left, you rounded the corner, coming face to face with the backs of four Stormtroopers. Your eyes went wide as you slowly backed up.

“Hey! You!”

You turned around feigning surprise.

A Stormtrooper motioned toward you, “Let’s go. The Gala is under lockdown.”

Entering back into the main hall, you saw the Governor directing Stormtroopers to break up guests into different groups.

You were shoved into a with a bunch of other people and soon later placed alone in an empty white room.

When the door slammed open, a man walked in.

“Good evening. I’m sure you want to get out of here as soon as I do.”

You nodded, you didn’t have to feign the fear on your face.

The man droned on and on but you could barely pay attention, your ears were buzzing and the bright white light in the room seemed to drown out your vision, “Did you break into an office? Did you still paperwork? Are you a rebel sympathizer?”

You said no to all and the man nodded before getting up to leave.

He turned his brows furrowing, “Do I know you?”

You shook your head.

“Hm. You look like someone who used to work for me many years ago. But it can’t be”

You didn’t recognize him, so why were your hands shaking so hard?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for walking me back to my transport.” You said tersely as Governor Moff walked beside you.

The man had been waiting for you outside the door after you had been questioned. He had apologized for making you go through questioning knowing that you couldn’t have stolen anything.

“If you ever need for anything.” He handed you his card.

You took it with a shaking hand, “I will let you know.”

You nodded at him watching as he turned walking down the street. You kept your eyes on him until you could no longer see his dusty black cape.

Taking a deep breath, you walked around the block a few more times before walking into the hangar. When you saw the Mandalorian’s ship you sighed in relief.

You climbed the lowered ramp, waving at the mechanic’s you had hired who were working on the side of the ship.

Neither the Mandalorian or Cara was back yet. While you waited for their return, you decided to change. Entering the lower level of the ship, you opened the closet to grab one of the Mandalorian’s shirts when your hand hit something hard.

Grabbing hold of it, you brought it up. A picture frame.

As you traced your finger over the face in the photo, loud footsteps above echoed through the ship.

The modulated voice yelled your name and you walked out into the cargo bay, the picture still in your hand.

“Where did you get this?”

The Mandalorian stepped up to you, gently taking it from your hand, “It was in your old house.”

“And you took it?” Your brows furrowed.

“You looked happy.”

“I’m happy now too.” You breathed as you looked from the photo to him.

Cara nudged him and his head shot towards her, glaring at her through his mask.

She turned to you, “Did you get it?”

“Mhm? Oh, yes.” You pulled out the file and passed it over to the Mandalorian. But instead of looking down at it he was looking at you.

“Do you want to get food?” He stumbled over the words.

You hesitated, looking from the tense man to the widely grinning woman beside him, “Sure... Cara?”

“No!” He barked.

You froze, your eyebrows raising.

He cleared his throat, “No, I mean she already has plans?” He turned toward the woman.

She shrugged with a chuckle, “Um, yeah I guess I do.”

You frowned but stepped up to her offering her your arm, “Stay close. Hopefully, we’ll be making a move soon.”

She nodded, saluting the two of you, before vanishing down the ramp of the ship.

You motioned nervously down the ramp, “I’ll go grab some food.”

The man nodded.

You raced down the street to the cantina, grabbing some food before hurrying back out the door. On your way out, you slammed into someone.

“Oh! So sorry.”

The man steadied you, “No worries, you look like you’re in a hurry.”

“I am! Have a good night.”

You hurried off down the road, missing the beeping fob in the man’s hand.

Something was different tonight.

When you arrived back at the ship, the Mandalorian had set up a makeshift table for the two of you.

The food was good and as you ate you tried to make small talk. However, the man only seemed to nod or shake his head.

You cleared your throat, “Are you alright?”

“Yes? Why?” He stuttered.

“You haven’t spoken in fifteen minutes.”

“I am enjoying the food.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that he hadn’t eaten anything but before you could reply, he cut you off, “Are you?”

“Yes.” You chuckled.

“Good.”

You smiled as you continued to eat, both missing the glances you were throwing each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were hunched over the desk flipping through the plans you had stolen when you heard the door creak open behind you.

It was late at night, the only light shining from the candles littered around the room.

“You’ve been gone a while.”

The Mandalorian had left early that afternoon to scout out some new planets to bunker down on. He had been acting weird since the dinner you shared last night. You weren’t sure why.

And when he hadn’t been back after a few hours, you had almost left to find him. But with the little green child still on the ship with you, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him alone or bring him with you. Especially not on a plant infested with imperials.

You scribbled a few more things onto the paper in front of you before turning around, as the man behind you still hadn’t spoken.

Squinting through the dark you tried to make out the usual shape of his armor, but when he stepped forward you could see that he wasn’t wearing it. Or his helmet.

You spun around with a squeak, placing your back toward him.

“Hey! Sorry, I took over your room but this was the only place that had a desk.”

The man behind you remained silent and your heart was in your throat as you heard his quiet footsteps on the metal floor.

A hand reached out to your arm, grasping you gently, turning you around, the bare skin of his hand brushing along your own. But before he turned you fully, you closed your eyes hard.

You could feel his body step up close to yours, his breath warm on your face. Your heart was pounding. And you could feel that his was too.

You swallowed hard as his hand ran from your hand up your arm until it reached your face. His thumb rubbed against your cheek, his hands softer than you had imagined, the warmth of his skin burning against your own.

“Open your eyes.” His voice was still gruff even without the voice modulator from his helmet. You almost melted at the sound.

You shook your head aggressively and you could hear him let out a little sigh as his fingers teased around your lips. Involuntarily, your tongue darted out to wet them accidentally brushing against his thumb.

Your face reddened and you went to take a step back, but he just followed.

“Look at me, please.”

“But...”

“No talking for once,” he said, “just- look.”

You froze unsure what to do. But after a beat, you opened your eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat when you were finally face-to-face with the man you had spent almost half a year with. His hair dark unruly curls, his deep black eyes glistening in the candlelight.

You slowly raised your hand to his face running your fingers over his forehead, his cheeks, his stubble. The man smiled, and your fingers moved toward the laugh lines next to his eyes and the dimple on his cheek.

“Why?”

“I wanted you to see me.”

“I’ve always seen you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his mouth curled up into a smile.

He leaned forward toward you, so your lips were just touching, but stopped there as if he was waiting for you to make the decision.

You shot forward, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him down, his mouth coming down hard on yours.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you pressed back. His lips were soft but unyielding against yours. A soft sigh tore from your mouth as he deepened the kiss, his arm coming up to wrap tightly around you, the other weaving through your hair to pull you even closer.

It was a rough kiss, but you expected nothing less from the two of you. You had been dancing around these feelings for too long.

You took a step back, him following as you both stumbled through the room your lips locked together.

The Mandalorian’s hands moved, scrambling for purchase on your body, settling on your hips yanking you flush against him. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders steadying yourself and when you ensured you wouldn’t tumble over, you raised up onto your toes wrapping your arms around his neck.

He turned you and you felt his hand reach around you trying to shut the door, but when he couldn’t reach it, he shoved you back against it, finally slamming it shut.

He pushed you flat against the door, his hands tight around your waist while your nails scratched through his hair, eliciting a deep moan from him.

You pulled your face away with a gasp and tilted your head back, your eyes snapping closed with a moan when you felt him pepper kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Your hand grabbed the back of his head, and you pulled him toward you until your foreheads were touching, “You are never going to lose me.”

And once again you pulled him down until his lips met yours. This time the kiss was softer, slower. And you savored the feeling of his lips on yours.

As your hands ran through his hair, his slipped under the back of your shirt, his hands burning like fire against your skin.

You pulled away with a gasp and he pulled back his eyes searching your face. With a smile, he reached up, his fingers dancing across your cheek before he brushed a piece of hair back behind your ear.

You leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek. And then his forehead. And then his dimple.

He pulled back and smiled at you. That smile was becoming your new favorite sight in the world.

And you replied with one of your own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night you found yourself sitting at the desk in the corner, while the Mandalorian slept peacefully in the bed.

Your eyes were heavy and you couldn’t seem to focus on the words in front of you. Your eyes kept slipping shut, but you couldn’t give in until you found out what they were planning for the little green child.

You flipped one more page with a sigh when you started. Sitting up straighter you flipped back to the previous page and read.

“They’re trying to clone him...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagged: @sargesbestgirl @abysswhiskey11 @yourfavoritearchangel @pedro-pascal-online @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8 @damnittjim @trickei @countessren @fun-sized-widow-bites@thefandomzoneisdangerous @ichigomiluku @bakerstreethound @clonesdeservelovetoo@bananyaaa @loveleah @javert-delacour @zoogrl05 @live-the-beautiful-game @maryan028@ignimbritetcax @kaidad @kaimoar @yana-versio @peitromoximaff @alittleraincloud @fuckhead-writer @dottie-witch @nowheredreamer @pandalandalopalis @loveharrington @sw0rd-girlfriend@lex0h @piquantbarnes @go-commander-kim @finefangirl @lmao5sosimagines @bandofmarvels@nayploonthedoon @tchallaudakux @allthosepacheeks @i-think-of-dean-moriarty @otherthingsinhead @songofcosplay @cloudykooks @spooky-nob @takemebillyhargrove@flyingowls @funkygreensucculent @andromeda-sighs @audiblesmirk @out-worn @lessthancooljay@whtvrwhizzer @banana-batman @panic-monsters @vamprlestat @clevervast @ghelp0 @just-another-fangirls-posts @jinthusiastsss @c1996 @maldo559 @yelenasnatashas @chewymoustachio@heyo–its–mo @hexqueensupreme @ozzy-bozzy @spideydobrik @t-rexmoreliket-flex @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @teenagememetonight @salted-barbed-wire @kitosauras @heyitsjaybird @turnaroundbeautiful @whosmorales @asstiel-barnes @vintagecaptainspidey @swagaliciouspupper @ghost-brocolli @jacobs-judge @cmburgos @lamnothome @no-goddamn-cilantro @chill-4-dayz @lafy-taffy

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #mando #mando ff #star wars #Star Wars ff #fanfiction #my fanfic #mando fanfiction #dyn jarren #dyn jarren x reader #x reader #the mandalorian spoilers

907 notes · View notes

zerochanges · 3 years

Text

2020 Favorite Video Games

I don’t know if I am an outlier or if this is the same for everyone else but I really did not play a lot of games this year. 2020 was a very harsh year for all of us, especially for me for some personal reasons. So to get to the chase, I am just gonna say it left me not doing much in what little free time I did have, and I didn’t play much either. Usually I try to keep my lists for ‘favorite of the year’ to only titles released that year but since I played so little this year, screw it. I am gonna include any game I played this year regardless of release date.

Collection of SaGa

By far a flawed rerelease. It’s bare bones: there are no advance features you would usually expect out of these kinds of emulated rereleases like save states, fast forward, or rewind, and there was no real effort made to touch up almost 30 year old localizations that had to meet Nintendo of America’s then harsh standards. This really is just 3 roms slapped into a nice looking interface with an option to increase the game speed (which by the way you better use, the characters walk very slow in these old games).

I am bit harsh here, but only because I thought the Romancing SaGa remasters and the upcoming SaGa Frontier remaster all looked like they got a great budget and a lot of love while this is just another Collection of Mana situation (moreso specifically talking about Seiken Densetsu 1/Final Fantasy Adventure/Adventures of Mana part of that collection). I would have loved to see Square Enix do a bit more for these older games. Or at least include the remakes. Seiken Densetsu 1 had two great remakes, both unused in Collection of Mana, and all three of these original SaGa titles have remakes that have never seen the light of day outside of Japan. How great would it have been to get the Wonderswan remake of SaGa 1, as well as the Nintendo DS remakes of Saga 2 and SaGa 3?

But my gripes aside, these games are still fun as they ever were. Replaying SaGa 1 specifically during the holiday season really helped calm me down and made me feel at ease. It’s easy to forget but even in their Gameboy roots there are a lot of funky and weird experimental choices being made in these games. They aren’t your run-of-the-mil dragon quest (or considering the gameboy, maybe pokemon would be more apt) clones.

Raging Loop

Perhaps my favorite game of the year, Raging Loop is one of the best visual novels I have ever played hands down. The level of creativity and splitting story paths that went into it is simply mind blowing. The basic premise is both a wonderful throwback to the old days of Chunsoft sound novels while still modern and somewhat reminiscent of both Higurashi and Danganronpa. Essentially you play as Haruaki, a poor slub that got lost in the mountains with no clue where to go until you stumble upon an old rural village with a strange history and even stranger superstitions. Before you know it there has been a murder and the Feast is now afoot.

The less said about Raging Loop the better, although I do want to say a lot about it one day if I ever can write a proper review of it. This is a gripping game that will take hold of you once you get into it though and never let go. I actually 100%-ed this and I very rarely do that. I got every ending, every bonus hidden ending, played the entire game twice to hear all the hidden details it purposely hides on your first play through, played all the bonus epilogue chapters, unlocked all the hidden voice actor interviews, collected all the art work, etc, etc. I was just obsessed with this game, it’s that damn good! And the main character is maybe the best troll in all of video games, god bless Haruaki.

Root Double

From Takumi Nakazawa, long time contributor to Kotaro Uchikoshi’s work comes a game any fan of Zero Escape or Uchikoshi in general will probably enjoy. Root Double, like its name suggests is a visual novel with two different routes, hence Root Double. The first route stars Watase Kasasagi, the leader of an elite rescue team in the midst of their greatest crisis yet that could lead to nuclear devastation as they try to evacuate a nuclear research facility that has gone awry.

The other route stars Natsuhiko Tenkawa, an everyday high schooler whose peaceful life is thrown into turmoil when he stumbles upon a terrorist plot to destroy the nuclear facility in the city and his attempts to stop them. Together the two separate plots weave into one and creates a really crazy ride. Part Chernobyl, part science fiction, any fan of the genre will easily enjoy it. And hey it’s kind of relevant to include on this list too since it just got a Switch port this year (I played it on steam though).

Snack World

I was shocked upon starting Snack World as it is instantly incredibly charming, witty, and downright hilarious at times yet I heard almost zero people talk about it. EVER. This game is Dragon Quest levels of quirky though, and the localization is incredible. The game has such an oddball sense of humor that works really well with its presentation right down to the anime opening video that sings about the most bizarre things. Instead of the usual pump up song about the cool adventure ahead we get stuff like wanting to go out to a restaurant and eat pork chops.

The self aware/fourth wall breaking humor is just enough to be really funny, but doesn't overstay its welcome and always makes it work right in the context of the dialogue. And finally, just everything; with the menus, the name of side quests and missions, and the character dialogue -- are all just so witty and full of quirky humor. This is one hell of a charming and funny game and addictive to boot.

Trials of Mana

Trials of Mana has gone from one of those legendary unlocalized games, to one of the first major breakthroughs in fan translation, to finally getting an official English release complete with a fully 3D remake. In a lot of ways from a western perspective this game has had an incredible journey. As for this remake itself, I really found myself having tons of fun with it. I loved the graphics, and the voice acting while a bit on the cheaper side almost kind of adds to the charm since both the graphics and acting really give it an old PS2 vibe. I know that is probably just more me being weird but yeah, I had to say it.

I really hope Square Enix sticks to this style of remake more often, instead of just doing Final Fantasy VII Remakes that break the bank and involve extensive tweaking to both plot and game play. I’ll take smaller budget projects that play more like the original game any day personally. I wouldn’t mind if they also deliver a brand new Mana game all together in this engine either.

Utawarerumono Trilogy

This year saw the release of the first entry in the series, Utawarerumono: Prelude to the Fallen--and thus finally after three years since the sequels Utawarerumono: Mask of Deception and Utawarerumono: Mask of Truth came out in 2017 the trilogy is now complete in English. I ended up binging through Prelude to the Fallen very fast shortly after it came out and immediately jumped on to the sequels. Perhaps the best part of 2020 was that I finally played all three of these fantastic games, and did so back-to-back-to-back. Playing the first Utawarerumono was an experience I will never forget, it was like visiting old friends again that I haven’t seen in ages, by and large thanks to the fact that I saw the anime adaption of the game when I was much younger, nearly a decade ago. Back then I would have never of dreamed that I would get to play the actual game and get the real experience.

And it only got better from here, as all three games are such wonderful experiences from start to finish. The stories are all so deep, and by the time you get to the third entry, Mask of Truth, it’s crazy to see how they all connected over so many years and weaved together into a plot much bigger than they ever were. What carries it beyond all that though has to be the fun and addicting strategy role playing game aspect, which while a bit on the easy side, is still so much fun and helps make the game feel better paced since you get to play the conquests your characters go on and not just read about all the battles they fight. Beyond that the games are packed full of awesome characters, and I know I’ll never forget the amazing leads in all of them. Hakuowlo, Haku, and Oshtor will all go down as some of the greats to me.

Ys: Memories of Celceta

Ys: Memories of Celceta is a full 3D remake of Ys IV, a rather infamous game in Falcom’s Ys series. Not to get bogged down too much into the history of Falcom but by this point they were facing a lot of hardship and had to outsource this entry to other developers, and thus passed it on to two particular developers they had a business relationship with, creating two unique versions of Ys IV. Tonkin House who had worked on Super Famicom port of Ys III with Falcom ended up creating their own YS IV entry, Mask of the Sun for the very same system, where Hudson soft who had produced the much beloved Ys Books I & II remakes for the Turbografix (PC Engine) CD add-on created their own Ys IV entry Dawn of Ys for that console. Both games followed guidelines and ideas outlined from Falcom themselves but both radically diverged from each other and turned into completely different games.

Falcom finally putting an end to this debate on which version of Ys IV you should play have gone and created their own definitive Ys IV in 2012 for the Playstation Vita. I played the 2020 remastered version of this remake on my PS4. I even bought this on the Vita when it first came out but I am horrible and only horde games, never play them. So it was a lot of fun to finally play this.

Memories of Celceta is probably one of the best starting points for anyone looking to get into Ys, especially if you only want to stay with the 3D titles as out of all the 3D entries this explains the most about the world and series protagonist Adol Christian. Beyond that it’s just another fantastic entry in a wonderful series that has a few good twists hidden behind it, especially for long time fans of the series.

Random Video Game Console Stuff

Xbox Has Blue Dragon: I actually got an Xbox One this year for free from my brother. Because of that I started to play Blue Dragon again and there’s a lot I would love to say about this game. I don’t know if I am fully committed to replaying it all the way through however but I find myself putting in a couple hours every few days and enjoying myself again. Does anyone else remember Blue Dragon? I feel like it really missed its audience and had it come out nowadays and probably for the Switch it would have really resonated with the Dragon Quest fandom a lot more instead of being thrown out to die on Xbox and constantly compared to Final Fantasy VII and the like which it had nothing at all similar with.

The Turbografx 16 Mini: This was probably one of the best mini consoles that have come out and I feel like thanks to the whole 2020 pandemic thing it was largely forgotten about. That’s a shame, it has a wonderful variety of great games, especially if you count the Japanese ones (god I wish I could play the Japanese version of Snatcher included), and a wonderful interface with fantastic music. One of these days I would really like to be able to play around with the console more seriously than I have already.

Fire Emblem Shadow Dragon Never Existed: So Nintendo localized the first ever Fire Emblem game on Nintendo Switch which is awesome to see them touching Famicom games again--I haven’t seen Nintendo of America rerelease old Famicom titles since Mysterious Murasame Castle on the 3DS, but their trailer hilariously made it seem like this is the first time ever they released Fire Emblem when in fact they had already localized the remake Shadow Dragon on the Nintendo DS nearly 10 or 11 years ago. I and many other fans I talked to all found this really hilarious, probably solely because of how much they kept repeating the fact that this is the first time you will ever be able to experience Marth’s story.

All that aside though I have to say the collector edition for this newly localized Famicom game is probably the most gorgeous retro reproduction I have seen in a long time, and I really spent many many hours just staring at the all clear glass mock cartridge. I have found myself really obsessing over retro reproductions during 2020, and obtained quite a few this year. I really hope this trend continues to go on in 2021 as recreating classic console packaging and cartridges is a lot of fun.

#video games #collection of saga final fantasy legend #SaGa #SaGa I #SaGa II #SaGa III #Raging Loop #Root Double #Snack World #Trials of Mana #Seiken Densetsu 3 #Utawarerumono #Ys #Ys IV #ys memories of celceta

23 notes · View notes

wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

Breathe Deeper

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,324

Prompt: “Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” (from a random prompt generator)

Warnings: murder, violence, staging a suicide, ~feelings~

A/N: cafe bustelo does wonders for you at 1 am anyway ive been trying to finish this for like two months. have a couple more ideas for these two but feel free to send me any ideas or requests and ill do em if the inspo strikes! also title is purely the song im listening to as i type this out and has no correlation to the story LOL but hey if yall like tame impala enjoy

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

A single pop is heard as a bullet flies out of your gun into the head of the old man who opened the door.

“Christ! No build up?! No tension?! No confirmation that it’s even him?!” Bucky yells as he wiggles his ear to rid the ringing from it.

You brush past Bucky and slide the gun back into the holster strapped to your thigh. You step over behind whatever his name was, Bucky’s having trouble remembering after that blow to his eardrum, and hook your hands under his arms in order to drag him back into the empty house.

“Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” Bucky questions you as he closes the door behind him, stepping in between splatters of blood.

“Nope, gotta leave leftovers for the bugs that live in my mouth.”

“That’s gross.”

“Shut up, help me lug this guy to the bedroom.”

The two of you are in a small town in Northern Oklahoma on the property of one of your ex-Hydra handlers. After a few days of researching, the two of you were able to figure out where he moved to and what he changed his name to after retiring from his prior lifestyle.

“I knew it was him from the second I saw him. You never forget.” You explain to him, both of you positioning his body in the corner of the room.

“You go clean up the entryway, I’ll finish staging over here.” Bucky offers it to you. He takes out his own gun from his own waistband and fires a single shot through the same hole you put in between the guy’s eyes. The splatter that explodes on the walls behind him are perfect, artistic almost. Bucky then starts looking around the room; in the closet, under the bed, until he reaches the night stand where a pretty little pistol lays. Not the same gun as his, but he has a feeling the police system in such a small and unpopulated town won’t bother to investigate this death as a murder as opposed to the obvious suicide that took place.

Bucky notices the small skull and octopus stamped into the side of the gun as he places it in his hands. He rolls his eyes before making his way back over to the entryway where you’re sat on the ground, scrubbing away with a rag in your hands and a bottle of bleach next to you.

Bucky walks over and takes a seat on the loveseat positioned a few feet away from where you are.

“So, where we heading after this?” Bucky asks you, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the arm of the seat.

“Back to New York? You probably gonna be busy working on that murder case.” You glance at him confused before going back to scrubbing.

Bucky pauses before speaking again, “How do you know about that?”

“I… keep up with my fair share of news.”

“You don’t pay for newspapers nor do you have a TV or a phone; you don’t have news. Besides, we haven’t released any information to the public about anything before we get more leads. So, how do you know about that?” Bucky stares at you, eyebrows pinched a bit in the middle as he awaits your answer.

“Do you wanna stop and get some pie on the way back?”

“No. Did you see something about the murders?” Bucky ignores your attempt at changing the subject.

“You just said you haven’t released anything-”

“I don’t mean on the news, I mean in that empty head of yours.” He teases.

You sigh, “I hate when you ask me about my… head.”

“Well, you could be helping here! You can try and be good!”

“I’m sitting on the floor scrubbing an old guy’s blood out of the wood of his own house after I’ve just blown his brains out.”

“Yeah, a bad old guy!”

You get off the last of the specks of blood before standing up and screwing the cap back onto the bottle of bleach. “I didn’t even see anything about the killer, anyway.”

“So, what did you see?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Fetch me a bone here, doll.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that, dog.”

He grabs the bleach and rag from your fingers to free up your hands from carrying anything. Tingles travel up the tips of your fingers and flow up through your wrist into your chest. You glance up and make eye contact with Bucky and the dramatic puppy eyes and pouty lips he’s throwing your way.

You stare for a few more seconds before looking away, “Check that huge pond in Central Park tomorrow. His next victim will be floating there.” You satisfy him before turning and making your way back outside and to the car the two of you took on your little road trip.

While walking back to the parked car, Bucky quickly rushes in front of you and grasps the handle before you can reach it, allowing you to get in the car while he holds it open for you. He throws you an innocent looking smile, a smile coming from a person who surely didn’t just stage a suicide. You bite back your own smile before taking a seat and letting Bucky close the door behind you.

…

When you open your eyes after your nap, it's dark outside the moving car. You slowly lift your head up off the car window and glance over at Bucky, who you now realize is on the phone with someone.

“I told you, it was a weird anonymous number, Sam. I don’t know where it came from.” Bucky speaks softly on the phone before turning his head to look at you in your sleepy state.

“All they said was to check the pond in Central Park tomorrow. I know it’s sketchy, but we don’t have any other leads anyway, we might as well try it.”

“We sounds like a lot of people, ain’t you say that to me one time? Not all of us are on vacation, you know.” You hear another deep voice through the tiny speaker of the phone against Bucky’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, man.”

Bucky wraps up his conversation as you process what you’ve heard. Bucky has lied, again, to the government, to Captain America, in order to protect you and your existence.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks before your thoughts can get too far from you.

“Fine. We’re already heading back to New York?”

“We’re stopping at a motel for the night, but after tomorrow’s drive, we’ll get there by sundown.”

You sit up proper and stretch your legs as far out in front of you as you can, the bones crunching and popping in relief at the new position. Bucky cringes next to you. He glances at you and watches you pick at the crust gathered at the corners of your eyes, a yawn escaping you along with the last of your grogginess.

Bucky doesn’t know how he’d fully express it to you, but he’s so happy to see the person you’re growing into. Everyday a little bit more of your personality, your mannerisms, your weirdness, your humor, your ideas; everything about the real you, shows more and more. He sees this beautiful woman who, maybe a year and some ago, was walking the line of death and now sits beside him with neon green nail polish and mismatched socks and cute flower earrings adorning the curve of your ear. He stares at the tattoo on your neck, that angry red face with large eyebrows and wonders whether or not that was your idea or not. He wonders if you have any other tattoos hidden among the space of your skin, he doesn’t remember seeing any along your sides or stomach that nightmare of a night in his apartment-

“You’re swervin’.”

Bucky clears his throat and snaps his head forward, fixing the car to drive straight on the road. Soon, he sees the promising sign, “Motel in 10 Miles,” and the two of you park in the small lot of the light orange building.

The inside smells of old people, an aged scent that isn’t necessarily bad, but makes you scrunch your nose nonetheless. No bugs in clear sight and the roof is still intact, so it should be suitable for a night of rest.

“We only have rooms available on the first floor for tonight, I’m assuming you’ll want one bed?”

Bucky's throat goes dry for a second, “Yes, that’s fine.” He doesn’t want to consult you as you look far off out the front window of the lobby, back turned to the young woman at the front desk. No matter how small a town in whatever state there is at this point in their journey, there is no risking anyone recognizing you, even if your search mission has been deemed unsolved.

A plastic card is slid into Bucky’s right hand and he begins making his way back outside and down the walkway towards their room for the night. You follow him silently.

“I call showering first, I think there’s small clumps of blood still stuck in my hair.” You tell him, flinging your backpack onto the bed, and pulling out a large sweatshirt and panties and taking them into the bathroom with you.

While the water begins to run, Bucky undoes the blankets, looks thoroughly through the pillows and in between the sheets in search of bed bugs. Next, inspecting the lamps, outlets, and anything else that could possibly hide a camera, microphone, or any other device. He even contemplates tearing apart the carpet under his feet, but decides against the extra work. He places your bag along with his own backpack on the small table in the corner of the room and fixes the bed to not look like he tore it apart recklessly. I wonder what side she prefers-

The bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam flows out, you soon emerge with a towel wrapped around your head, large sweatshirt hanging off your frame and bare feet digging into the soft carpet beneath you. You fling the towel off of your head using momentum from throwing your head and neck forward, the towel landing on the floor in front of you and your wet hair sending a light spray Bucky feels on his warm face.

By the time Bucky finishes with his shower, the room resembles a sauna and his metal arm has gone hot. A long sleeved shirt and cotton shorts are slipped onto his body along with a pair of thick socks to keep him warm at all times. He steps out of the bathroom, using his towel to rub through his hair, and he spots you using the small mirror on the wall.

Your legs are on display and your underwear is in sight. Bright pink with WEDNESDAY printed on the behind in bubble letters, it’s Friday, the bottoms of your butt cheeks hanging out the bottom of the fabric. The cotton hugs your body and Bucky can’t help but blush at the sight. His mother would smack him over the head if she were here right now.

Your shirt is lifted, one of your hands holding it high on your chest where Bucky can see a slip of under your breast peeking, the curve intriguing him. Your other hand is occupied rubbing a colorless liquid along your side, Bucky focuses his attention and realizes your rubbing along the scar he left you from your stitches. The bottle on the table has a label that read Vitamin E Natural Oil.

Your fingers seem unbelievably soft and gentle as he watches them glide along your side, massaging the shiny oil into your smooth skin. You drop your sweatshirt and gather a bit more oil on your hands before rubbing it into your hips where Bucky can see the faintest stretch marks.

“Sorry ‘bout the scar. O-on your side, I mean.” Bucky stutters out, convincing himself that his body is warm from the shower he took.

“It probably saved my life, so I can’t say I’m sorry about it.” You respond without turning around, as though you knew he was there watching you lather yourself in oil like the beginning of a softcore porn but didn’t mind him enjoying the show.

“What’s that stuff for, anyways?” Bucky asks as he gathers his old clothes back into his bag, folding each piece before placing the packed bag next to yours on the table. Your bag that clearly does not have folded clothes, only crinkled ones. Bucky empties your bag and folds your clothes for you before neatly packing it and closing the zippers.

“Helps fade scars.”

“Yeah, but why? Scars are cool.”

“I suppose. I’d still like to lighten them a bit. So they look better, prettier.”

“You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in the last few decades.”

“You don’t even remember most of the last few decades,” You try to joke.

“I mean it. It’s a compliment. It’s okay to accept and enjoy compliments, doll.” Bucky looks at you, forcing you to meet his eyes. You see in your peripheries as he puts the cap on the bottle of oil and places it next to your bag. A small smile adorns his face as he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel a knot form in your throat.

It’s been a long while since you’ve received any kind of love, whether that be physical, emotional, mental, or self. It’s an overwhelming feeling when someone who you aren’t actually the closest with gives you such a deep and personal compliment.

Aren’t the closest with- this is your only friend he the only person you even know. The point is, being the most beautiful woman of the century is much different than having pretty hair or a good sense of humor.

You look away from him before the small bit of wetness can gather in your waterline.

“Which side of the bed do you prefer?” Bucky whispers softly to you, as to not break the safe atmosphere created by his sweet comment.

You clear your throat that now feels thick with tar, “The right.”

“Good. I prefer the left.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #~gasp~ and there was only one bed #series #oneshot

147 notes · View notes

crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years

Text

Holographic Sand is a Kickass Band Name

pairing: peter maximoff/OC(graciella decuerpo) (high school AU/not canon)

summary: peter learns that a fuckton can change in the course of a week

warnings: none? bad language and peter is simp but thats it

notes **please read**: Heyyyyy how are you doing? good? that’s great. so ik this fic is a peter/oc fic, but honesty i only use her name a few times and a few defining features but like. thats it. so you can totally just imagine urself in her position. also this fic is 5,550 words exactly. that’s the most ive ever written and I am SUPER fucking proud. I think i might become one of those blogs where i write super huge monster fics that im proud of instead of just writing to fill requests.if u dont want that then just lmk and i will not do that. i dont know. maybe. also this fic is peter centric because uh it is. anyways enjoy <3

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @simonsbluee

--------

Monday

Peter sat across the room, his arms crossed neatly on top of his knees as he rested his chin on his forearm. He wasn’t paying attention to the lesson being taught in front of him, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again. Peter’s mind was a chaotic minefield of music and cheesy one-liners and random facts that he seems to just know. But this time, he wasn’t envisioning himself beating up a police officer or playing with Pink Floyd. This time, he was picturing a perfect world where nothing ever happened yet nothing was ever boring. Peter had built a utopia in his mind-- a kingdom created to his exact preferences. A blissful tower of joy and happiness and energy and satisfaction. A paradise where he stood on top of the world with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, standing right next to him.

Now, Peter was well aware that the pretty girl from algebra class had no idea who Peter was. The pair had never exchanged more than a few words, but somewhere within those few words, Peter managed to decide that she was his soulmate. He’d created an image of her in his head that would make God weep tears of envy, the perfect personality for the perfect person. Peter willfully ignored the fact that he was setting himself up for heartbreak as he imagined how nice it would feel to have her fingers intertwined with his.

All of Peter’s friends thought he was ridiculous, ‘you can’t love someone you don’t know,’ they’d say. Peter would only scoff and shake away their words. He absolutely can love someone he doesn’t know, it’s getting the other person to reciprocate those feelings that’s nearly impossible. However, that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing at night. That doesn’t stop him from imagining the various ways he’d confess his love to the pretty girl who doesn’t love him. Or maybe she does. Peter doesn’t know, he could never know; unless, of course, he worked up the courage to talk to her.

Scott constantly teased Peter about his one-sided infatuation, but Peter paid no mind to him. He was 100% content with his perpetual pining for someone who probably didn’t know his name. He was totally okay with the unending ache in his chest that would appear any time she walked by or met his gaze. Peter was alright with his ceaseless yearning and the eternal feeling of disappointment that overtook him every time he snapped out of one of his fantasies. He was a-okay with all of that.

So, there he was, spacing out during biology class as Professor Hargreeves struggles to teach the silver teen about photosynthesis. The Professor looked at Peter with desperate eyes, soon deciding that having his usually energetic student be quiet and still was the silver lining of the situation-- no pun intended. Professor Hargreeves droned on as Peter glanced at the clock, counting down the minutes until 7th period. Counting the seconds until he got to see the pretty girl in algebra class once again.

Tuesday

6th period was always the worst part of Peter’s day-- the dreaded english class. There were many contributing factors to Peter’s hatred for this class; the professor was a bore, the material itself was uninteresting, and Peter could never seem to sit still or retain any of the words he read in english class. Worst of all, english class seemed to go on forever, leaving Peter to impatiently wait for the bell to ring and release him to 7th period. At the end of the period every day, he was practically vibrating in his seat.

“Can anyone tell me what Juliet’s suicide is supposed to symbolize?” the Professor asked expectantly. Peter couldn’t care less about the symbolism of some chick’s suicide-- he’d much rather be studying the features of his algebra class infatuation.

She sat next to him yesterday. There were at least 5 other open seats and she sat next to him. Yes, Peter read too much into it and yes, Peter spent the entire class period trying to make himself seem naturally cool, but he didn’t care. Peter would act like the most desperate, pathetic, lovestruck loser in the world if it meant that she would like him. They didn’t talk, they didn’t exchange a single word, nevertheless, Peter was in a state of euphoria for the entire class period.

Sometimes Peter feels like a stalker. He watches her whenever he can-- he doesn’t follow her around or anything, but if she’s around, he’ll stare at her. He has her features memorized, the curve of her nose, the dark brown irises surrounding her pupils, the way that she always seems to have chipped black nail polish on. He sees the small things. He sees the way she bites her nails when he gets bored and he sees the way her leg never seems to stop bouncing. She hums the basslines to songs as opposed to the melody.

English class came to an abrupt end as the bell cut off the Professor’s teachings as well as Peter’s distant daydreaming. Peter was out of his seat within seconds, his notes and books quickly being swept up in his arms as he walked out of the room. The hallways are crowded and chaotic and busy, each individual student attempting to get to their locker then to their class on time. Peter watches as kids swing their lockers open, fatigue and weariness apparent on their faces as they disappear into their classrooms. Peter reaches his locker hastily, the few small posters of classic rocks bands adorning the inside of his locker door. A playful giddiness overcame his body as he made his way to algebra class, a small smile left on his face.

Graciella shows up across the hallway, her bright red hair catching his eye in a sea of brown and blonde and blue. His stomach flutters as they get closer and closer to each other, finally meeting outside of the classroom. Her eyes rise to meet Peter’s, and instead of pulling away, Peter keeps looking. She smiles at him before disappearing inside the classroom, and Peter felt his knees get weak. With a deep breath and a triumphant smile, he walked into the classroom.

Wednesday

Lunchtime; possibly one of the most enjoyable parts of Peter’s school day. Peter is free to kick back and stuff his face full of whatever junk the school board deems nutritious enough for highschoolers. Usually, he ate lunch under the bleachers with his friends, but in some sick twist of fate most of them were absent. So, Peter was left to eat alone in his usual spot.

The quiet was comfortable, refreshing. The gentle summer breeze would blow every few minutes and Peter would listen to the rustle of the leaves. There’s a certain tranquility to being alone; Peter can lay back and relax and just… think. No stress, no panicking, no--

“Hey, uh, Peter, right?” Peter’s eyes snap up so fast he’s afraid they would detach from his head and fall out. His breath faltered and his hands began to shake a bit-- why was he so freaked out? She was just a girl; sure, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and yeah, he was madly in love with her, but that’s besides the point.

“Uh-- uh, yeah, P-Peter. That’s, uh, that’s me,” He chuckled awkwardly, desperately trying to stay cool. Peter was an awkward person, but he’d rather die than fuck up his chances with Grace.

“You dropped this on your way out of class yesterday, I, uhm, didn’t get to return it to you until now,” She holds out a small key chain with three small keys hanging off of it-- Peter’s house keys, along with the key to his mother’s car. He quickly takes the key chain from the red-haired girl in front of him.

“Holy shit, uh, thanks! I couldn’t get into my house yesterday so I guess you saved me from another broken window,” Peter held up his hand and showcased the scattered pattern of small cuts on his palm. Grace laughed lightly before gently running her fingers over the cuts on Peter’s palm.

“Oh fuck, dude, these look pretty bad. Maybe keep a spare key hidden under your welcome mat or something,” Peter doesn’t fully process Grace’s words; he’s too preoccupied with trying not to collapse at the feeling of her fingertips on his palm.

“Hey, you okay? You look… pale,” Grace pressed the back of her hand on Peter’s forehead in an attempt to check for illness, but that just made Peter’s skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I, um, I’m fine. I’m just st-stressed about the algebra t-test on Friday, I th-think,” To be fair, Peter was stressed about the algebra test. Peter may or may not have spent the entire class staring at Grace instead of, you know, learning the material.

“Oh! Well, if you want, I can help you study. I’m also kinda worried about it, and I study better with other people,” Peter silently thanked god for what was happening to him.

“That would be fuckin’ fantastic,” Grace smiled a smile that made Peter shiver.

“Cool! Uh, I’ll give you my phone number and we’ll meet up tomorrow. One day isn’t much time to study, but it’s better than nothing.” She pulls a pen out of her backpack and rips a small piece of paper out of one of her notebooks. Peter watches as she scribbles down her phone number and hands the paper to him.

“Thanks. For everything, the keys, the studying-- everything.” Grace smiled.

“It’s no problem, Peter, really. I’ll call you later,” And just like that, she walked away. Peter was left alone under the bleachers, a wide smile plastered on his face as he read the piece of paper in his hands over and over and over again.

Thursday

30 minutes. 30 minutes until Grace Reaper DeCuerpo, the prettiest, nicest, funniest girl Peter had ever met would show up on his doorstep. She would be inside his house for god knows how long. She would sit next to Peter-- either on the coffee table in the basement or on the floor of his bedroom. Needless to say, Peter was freaking the fuck out.

The plan was simple: Grace shows up, they study, they get comfortable, and she goes home. Yet, in those four simple steps, so much could go wrong. Wanda could interrupt, his mother could lose her temper, Lorena could start crying-- worst of all, Peter could embarrass himself and drive her away.

Peter was in the middle of reorganizing his record collection for a third time when he heard a knock at the door. His blood went cold and an electric excitement ran through his veins. Peter checked his hair in the mirror one last time before running to the door. He stood silently, staring at the chrome handle hesitantly. This was his one chance. His only chance to make his perfect kingdom real-- Peter really, really, really didn't want to fuck it up. With a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, Peter!" Her voice was smooth and melodic and it made Peter's heart light up. He’s about to respond with something smooth and witty when a squeaky voice chirps behind him.

“Hi!! Are you the pretty girl Peter talks about?” Peter can physically feel his face turn bright red as he turns to see his six-year-old sister, Lorena, standing behind him. She’s wearing a purple princess dress that has a syrup stain on the sleeve. Grace laughs before stepping through the doorway.

“Lorena!” Peter groans in annoyance, a pleading look on his face. The young girl just giggles before scurrying away, her dress flowing behind her.

“‘The pretty girl Peter talks about’, huh?” Grace grins at Peter cheekily. Peter runs his hand through his hair before motioning to the staircase.

“God, Lorna is quite the kid. Well, uh, we can work in my room,” He sighs. “And Grace? Uh, m-maybe don’t let Lorena change your opinion of me,” She just smirks before walking past Peter.

“Too late,” She called before disappearing down the stairs. Peter could hear the faintest trace of a smile in her voice. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly followed after her.

She was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and holding a backpack with various pins on it-- her left ear was pierced in three places and her right in five. The earrings she was wearing were black, or maybe grey; her bright red hair blocked Peter’s view of them. She was wearing rings, some odd words engraved in the metal. Peter couldn’t read them from where he was standing. She was wearing a skirt with fishnets, her hand buried in the pockets that seem to have been sewn in herself. She has callouses on both her hands, but Peter knew that already. Her appearance would put Aphrodite to shame-- suddenly, Peter was much less confident in himself than he was before. He ran his hand through his hair again before reaching the basement.

He held his breath as Grace looked around his room, her gaze lingering on the plethora of stolen signs and band posters covering the walls. She placed her backpack on the floor and walked over to Peter’s record collection, her fingers carefully flitting through the different albums. She seemed… impressed. It was then that Peter realized it had been silent for much too long.

“Y’know I can, uh, p-play some music if you want me to. You can just pick a record and, uh, I’ll... play it,” Peter winced at his words, cursing himself for being so awkward in front of the girl he’d been pining after since the beginning of the year. He felt like everything had spiraled out of control, and he watched idly as it happened. Then, Grace shot him a smile and pulled out a record.

“You have a good taste in music, Silver,” No one had ever called Peter ‘silver’ before. He liked it a bit more than he should. “Although, that’s not really a surprise. I had a feeling you were cool.”

“You think I’m cool?” Peter asked, shocked. He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

“Oh, totally. I see you in the hallways sometimes and you always seem so… carefree. Genuine. I don’t know, I guess it’s just… you, ya know? You’re naturally cool.” Every syllable that rolled off her tongue shot euphoria through Peter’s veins. Grace DeCuerpo, the girl Peter Maximoff had dreamed of for almost a full year, was telling him that she thought he was cool. Naturally cool.

“I know a lot of people who would disagree with you on that one,” Peter joked. There was truth behind his humor, but of course, he didn’t want to get into his insecurities now. “They think I’m a total loser, which isn’t totally wrong I guess.”

“Well those people are stupid,” She stated matter-of-factly with a smile. “Speaking of stupid, we should probably get to work.” Peter nodded before sitting beside her on the floor.

For three hours they poured over their algebra books. They quizzed each other and checked each other’s work; Peter’s proficiency in simplifying radicals aiding them both. Every now and then their hands would brush against each other, or the conversation would stray away from school and into their personal lives. Peter learned that Grace had two brothers, one of which passed away when she was younger. Peter talked about Lorena and Wanda and his miraculous abilities in the same way that she talked about her hometown and her own abilities. The conversation was smooth and natural-- Peter didn’t feel like he was being too annoying or too chatty and there was seldom an awkward pause. The pair were content in their time together, not a single moment went by where one wished the other would leave.

Eventually, Grace had to go home. Peter wished that she could stay forever, but of course, that would be considered kidnapping. He walked her to the door, although Peter didn’t feel like he was walking. He felt like he was floating.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Silver,” Grace said softly as she turned to face Peter. She looked him in the eye and he could feel his stomach flutter.

“Yeah, I guess so,” She opened the door, but before she left, she froze. She turned to look at Peter once again.

“Peter?” she said. “You’re not a loser.”

Friday

Peter could tell the second he walked through the front door of his high school that something had changed. The energy that radiated in the halls shifted from a dull buzz of boredom to a rush of anticipation. The students in the hallway looked the same as always; tired and anxious and wishing for the day to go by quickly. However, Peter wasn’t wishing for the end of the day, and he certainly wasn’t tired. He was determined and energized and absolutely terrified, because that morning Peter Maximoff made the most important decision a seventeen-year-old could. He decided that he was going to ask Grace out on a date.

Peter made the choice to keep this from his friends-- it’s not that he didn’t trust them, it’s just that Peter knew he would be teased for his infatuation. It’s happened before and it will happen again. He walked down the hallways with a brave face on, his eyes forward and his heart racing. Truthfully, the silver teenager was terrified of… well, everything. The looming image of a harsh rejection forced itself into his mind; the idea that she would laugh in his face made his heart break a tiny bit, even though it wasn’t real. Peter simply shook those images away and walked on.

The day flew by much faster than Peter was comfortable with, and for the first time ever, he was dreading algebra class. He was terrified that he would walk through the door and have everything be exactly the same-- he feared that Grace would go back to not knowing who he was, just like before. Peter was alright with never being her boyfriend, but he didn’t want to be a stranger. He didn’t think he could take being a stranger anymore.

So, there he stood, staring at the door to his algebra classroom from across the hall. He felt confident and prepared himself for the task at hand. In four long strides, he entered the classroom. Grace was sitting next to an empty desk, her eyes stuck on the small notebook full of doodles on her desk. Peter watched as her eyes raised to meet his, a wide smile forming on her face as she motioned him over.

“Hey, silver! I saved a seat for ya,” she called, and Peter felt his knees get weak. He then decided that he would wait until after class to ask her out.

“You did?”

“Of course,” She grinned. “I like you, dude, you’re my friend,” Peter’s heart fluttered as he sat down beside her. Grace shot an odd look his way before reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, you look stressed. Don’t sweat it, silver, you’ll do fine. We studied for, like, 3 hours yesterday. You’re gonna ace it,”

To be frank, Peter had forgotten all about the test. The real reason he looked so stressed was because he happened to be sitting next to the love of his life, and the love of his life happened to be touching his arm.

“O-oh! Uh, yeah, thanks. I was just nervous because of… the test,” The bell rang and class began, the professor strictly laying down the rules that were to be followed while the test was in session. Peter could feel the lingering touch of her hand on his skin. It made his head feel fuzzy.

Peter soon came to learn that sitting next to Grace during a test was a huge mistake. He couldn’t focus on anything other than her-- it didn’t help that she kept shooting him glances from where she sat. The numbers and letters on the paper in front of him seemed to rearrange before his eyes, instead spelling out various taunts. He feels a little pathetic for how easily Grace can unravel him, but hey, he’s a teenager.

The silver-haired boy’s eyes were struggling to decipher the words on his page when a small folded square landed on his desk. It came from Grace’s direction, and a small smirk had formed on her lips as she solved equations. Hesitantly, he unfolded the paper and read the neatly written message.

Hey silver :)

Peter smiled softly. He quickly pulled a pad of post-it notes out of his backpack and scribbled down a quick reply.

I have no idea what I’m doing. I think Professor Stedman decided to write our tests in hieroglyphics this time.

He flicked the note onto her desk and quickly turned his face downward. Class would be over soon, and Peter knew he couldn’t turn in a blank test. He uses his enhanced speed to do his assessment in seconds. Sure, he was almost certain he’d barely reach a passing grade, but hey, he had bigger matters to focus on. By the time he finished, another note landed on his desk.

That bad, huh? Looks like we better study longer next time.

Peter’s heart swelled a bit. He really thought the study sessions were a one-time thing. He’s overjoyed to know he’ll get to see Grace semi-regularly, even if he never manages to ask her out.

I think I’d rather hang out with you without the looming threat of schoolwork.

That’s the closest Peter could get to asking her out. He put deep thought into every word, he examined the phrasing and checked the spelling of every word. His english teacher would be proud.

That can be arranged ;)

Peter had no idea that four words could make him feel so much. He had no idea that 17 letters could make him want to scream in the middle of a silent testing period. His hand was shaking and his careful planning was abandoned as he scribbled back a reply.

Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?

Patiently, he waited. He waited for Grace to finish writing her response and he waited for her to toss the note back over. He didn’t wait for more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He was panicking, and he was sure she could tell. She was probably joking, right? She was probably writing an awkward clarification-- she was probably explaining that she would actually rather die than be around him for non-academic reasons. He braced himself as the yellow post-it landed on the center of his desk.

My aunt owns a drive-in a few miles from here and she gave me keys to the projector room and the gate. She managed to snag a copy of The Exorcist-- I thought you’d like to join me during my midnight escapade tomorrow night.

Peter’s heart stopped. For a moment, he thought his eyes were fooling him. Maybe this was all some sick joke. Maybe he was being set up. Maybe he’ll get in her car tomorrow and she’ll drive him into the woods and murder him. To be completely honest, Peter wouldn’t mind if she murdered him. Peter wrote his reply.

Really? You want me there? I might be a drag. You could probably find at least 20 other people who would probably be more interesting than me.

Grace frowned at his response, and suddenly Peter decided he never wanted to see her frown again. She wrote confidently, her words solid and sure.

You? A drag? Impossible. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, Maximoff.

This note was his undoing. He couldn’t help himself, he read it over and over and over again-- he almost forgot to respond. He wanted to hold onto it forever, he wanted it to be framed and hung on his wall. Hell, he wanted it tattooed on his arm. Peter had never been so happy while taking a test, that’s for sure. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say; he went from heartfelt responses to witty retorts. Finally, he decided to be totally and completely honest.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Saturday

There was seldom a time in his life where Peter Maximoff felt wholly content. Even in the most peaceful moments, there was always something bothering him, there was always something to pull him back to reality. However, sitting in the back of Grace’s dad’s convertible with the seats down and the roof pulled back, his head resting on her shoulder as they watched a cheesy horror movie, Peter was as close to nirvana as he’d ever been.

Life had always been so hard for Peter. He’s always had to fight for his seat at the table, to claw his way into a state of mind that wasn’t a hellhole. It seemed as if the world was plotted against him; he was ostracized from society and taught that he, along with his closest family and friends, were monsters. He never met his father and his mother spent so long fighting her own battles that she forgot to love her kids. Peter had to steal to stay fed, and he had to do his best to raise his little sisters to be good people. But right there, right then? That wasn’t hard. Peter didn’t have to be anyone or do anything-- he just had to exist next to someone who wanted him. That was the easiest thing Peter had ever done.

Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he got there. Of course, he knew that they had driven to the drive-in, but he wasn’t sure how he was the person next to Grace. They had spoken for one day, maybe two, and somehow he landed himself in the most perfect spot in the entire universe. Less than a week ago, she didn’t even know his name. Or, maybe she did. Maybe she was just like Peter-- maybe she had spent the past year pining for him, and finally she worked up the nerve to just talk to him. Maybe. Peter isn’t complaining either way.

“Can I ask you a kind of cheesy question?” Peter is startled by the sound of his own voice. Grace sits up and glances at him.

“Shoot,”

“Do you-- well, uh, don’t read too much into this, but, do you believe in love at first sight?” God, he sounded awkward.

“Nope,” She said bluntly. Peter wasn’t expecting that answer, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed by it. “I mean, it’s kind of a stupid idea, ya know? Like, isn’t there a million poems and sonnets and books written about how love is this weird complicated monster of a feeling? I don’t think you can really love someone just by looking at them. You can love the idea of a person, sure, or maybe the look of a person, but you can’t love that person. Because a person is so much more than ‘first sight’,” she sighs. “I don’t know, maybe I’m being a killjoy. It just seems dumb to me-- dumb and, I don’t know, exclusive,”

Peter stops to think for a moment. He steps out of his lovesick chaotic hellbrain and looks at his feelings from an outside perspective. He thinks back to the kingdom he created in his brain-- a kingdom built on a foundation of sand. Or, less than sand. Holographic sand, because the sand he built his kingdom on wasn’t real. He made a mental note that ‘Holographic Sand’ is a kickass band name, then resumed his impromptu soul-searching. She was right-- he could see that now. Scott was right, too. You really can’t love someone you don’t know, because if you don’t know them, you fill in the gaps. You fill in the gaps with what you think fits, and then the other person stops being them and starts being parts of you. Peter suddenly felt weird.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” Grace interjects after a while. Peter hadn’t realized he’d been silent for so long.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. On the contrary, you, uh, you made things a little bit more… right, in my brain. You somehow managed to take a little chunk of chaos and tame it, which is scarily impressive,” he joked. “Remind me to ask you your opinion on the meaning of life and the root of true happiness,” They’re joined in a chorus of laughter and Peter realizes that his little brain kingdom didn’t hold a candle to the red convertible he was sitting in. She slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Y’know, I might not know the meaning of life, but I am pretty close to true happiness right now,” She says, softer than before. “Maybe the root of true happiness is you, Maximoff,” She chuckles. Peter smiles. He doesn’t want the ruin the moment-- god, he is desperately trying to keep himself from fucking it up, but he feels obligated to tell her about his year of pining.

“Hey, uh, can I tell you something kinda pathetic?” He cringes at the way his voice trembled on the last word.

“Go ahead, Peter,” She used his name this time. Peter thinks she knows he’s about to say something mildly serious.

“I’ve liked you since, like, the beginning of the year. You seemed so… cool. So nice. I saw you in the hallways and my stomach would get all twisted up and my head would hurt a little bit. It was like I was allergic to you, but I enjoyed it. That sounds weird. I’m sorry,” He stopped for a moment, attempting to take the buzzing mass of words in his brain and string them into a sentence. “I was too afraid to talk to you, so I, uh, asked around. I got other people’s opinions of you and then built a little version of you in my brain. I realize now that, uhm, the little brain version of you is like, way way worse than actual you,”

When you talked to me the first time, you threw me off. I wasn’t really nervous about the test-- I mean, yeah I was nervous but that’s not why I looked so pale. I just wasn’t expecting for you to talk to me, like, willingly. So I lied because I was embarrassed. And I lied again in class yesterday. Because I was embarrassed,” He stopped talking. Peter felt like he was digging himself into a hole-- he felt like he killed the sweet sugary mood.

“Why are you telling me this?” Grace asked. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded a little confused, and she sounded like she was trying to help Peter decipher his brain.

“I don’t know, I guess I just feel bad. I feel bad for, uh, for not being honest I guess. I feel bad for being a coward,” Yep, definitely killed the mood.

“Peter, you shouldn’t feel bad for being afraid, you know,” She assures. “I would’ve done the exact same thing in your position. Hell, I did do the exact same thing in your position,” That caught Peter’s attention.

“What?”

“You didn’t drop your keys in algebra. You dropped them somewhere in bio and my friend found them. She was gonna take them to the office, but I wanted an excuse to talk to you, so I said I’d return them,” Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was being pranked, he had to be. “Being awkward and weird is like a requirement in high school. Don’t sweat it, Maximoff, really. We’re all the same in that way, I think,”

Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was feeling too much at that moment, he was letting the bad drown out the good. He didn’t want to remember the day in a sad light.

“I like you. A lot. Even if you are awkward and weird,” He smiles softly. Slowly, ever so slowly, he intertwined his fingers with those of the girl beside him. It was a simple display of affection, but it made Peter feel like he was floating.

“I like you too, dork,” Peter smiled widely before placing his head back on Grace’s shoulder. Peter wasn’t paying attention to the movie, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again-- but this time, he wasn’t standing on a false kingdom with a false version of the girl he liked. No, this time, he was thinking about the very real girl beside him. He was thinking about the perfect world they had created in the small car they were in; a perfect world where he felt so much emotion and so, so safe. They had built a utopia in the back seat- a blissful tower of awkwardness and comfort and clumsy confessions. A paradise where he sat in the back seat of a Ford Galaxie with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, sitting right next to him.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #sorta a little bit #graciella reaper decuerpo #xmen #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #high school AU

39 notes · View notes

arch-archivars · 3 years

Text

aesthetics for the entities, part i + ii. bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. rest of the fears here. this is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!

i. the buried. weighed blankets. drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil and sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots. letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool. walls pressing in on you. not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale. lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you. looking for something below. cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging. knowing that your purpose is just below the surface. entering your final resting place before it kills you. a storm drowning you out. dust and sand speaking to you.

ii. the corruption. insects. a close imitation of the natural course of life. an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans. an untreated wound. containment. breaching containment. unbreathable air. fungi. one with that you love. one with what loves you. a corpse unfit for a glass case. hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs. honeycomb patterns. an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist. an ugly death where a glorious one is owed. blood on a handkerchief. parasites. something pushing up the sewer. a mask to keep something out. trypophobia. knowing you belong. death weeks after impact. fever. food that’s gone off. pandora’s box. death behind a glass.

iii. the dark. shadows. lights that turn off by themselves. the feel of cold marble. a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see. hiding under a blanket. white, clouded eyes. months without going outside during sunlight. pouring dark. unscrewing lightbulbs. black matter. light sensitivity. a starless night. time before light was created. a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to. withering plants. a world without a sun. footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should. desperate reach for a flashlight. clothes that hide your shape. staying unperceivable. winter months in the north. an empty church.

iv. the desolation. senseless pain. warmth of faith. wax where skin should be. a blazing fire. heat without a source. the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon. the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold. scorch marks on wood. inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives. burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room. never touching a loved one. disfigurement. a kiss that ruins you. the scent of burning fat. a tattoo that terrifies its viewer. the agony of hellfire displayed as art. auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather. a ripple in the air. trying to cool down in vain.

v. the flesh. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance and appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.

vi. the end. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flatlining in a hospital. gambiling with death. as old as the universe. soul and spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the plead of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe. multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii. the eye. googling something you shouldn’t have. eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera. witness reports. hidden libraries. eyes of different colours. feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape. a tragedy you can’t watch away from. endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records. a symbol of an eye. a watch tower. compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it. saving the evidence before the person. extracting information. truth or dare, without the dare. a thirst for knowledge. books that speak to you. coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems. voyerism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out. smell of old papers. books that read you back.

viii. the hunt. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide and seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run. a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands. barks and growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstorous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark and running after it.

ix. the lonely. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realise they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

x. the slaughter. a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knifeblock on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.

xi. the spiral. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallusinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish colour. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes and tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

xii. the stranger. wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs and pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colours of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter and sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiii. the vast. open spaces. carnival rides going up and down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles and miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky and feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.

xiv. the web. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak-willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realising it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unrealiability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny lengs and fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.

+ the extinction. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivours. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.

TAGGED BY: @radioways mwah !!

TAGGING: @stfreds / @meinliied ( martin or rikar ? ) / @lorefound ( barnabas ) / @mistiqued ( maxwell ) / @vulpesse / @killedfirst / @ghrisha

#〉〉swallowing mud / swallowing glass / the scent of blood —— » inspiration . cecil #/#not me annoying my non - tma mutuals #with tma memes #indulge me <3

6 notes · View notes

hungover-and-broke-student · 3 years

Text

esthetics for the entities, part i. bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. rest of the fears here. this is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!

v. the flesh. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiitng for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance and appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.

xi. the spiral. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish colour. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes and tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

TAGGED BY: @brokentoys

TAGGING: steal it! @monomaniiametus @tricksterreformed-a @acriminallawyer

#ooc #tag meme #this was fun thanks for tagging me <3 #long post

1 note · View note

broken-clover · 4 years

Text

AU-gust Day 6- Hospital

I’m here early! Mostly because I had a lot of this written earlier, so if that didn’t make it obvious enough I really liked this prompt. While it’s a hospital prompt is isn’t especially intense or gory, after yesterday I tried to make this one pretty lighthearted. Honestly I feel like the only really uncomfortable part of this is how much effort I put in trying to make a Pokemon expy. Hehe.

Sorry-not-sorry for more Sin and Bedman, it’s a bit more ‘romantic’ then last time but still pretty much platonic friendship. Enjoy!

Though it felt weird to say, Sin knew his least favorite thing about his father was his charity. Helping out people in need was a good thing, obviously, but a ridiculous amount of his childhood memories involved being dragged along to food banks, hospitals, and shelters so his dad could give corny, well-wishing speeches and lend a hand to those less fortunate, forcing him to help out alongside the other volunteers. Sin had used to wonder if it was because something about having a cute little kid around raised everyone’s morale, or whatever.

Well, considering he was now a grown-ass teenager at the age of sixteen, and Ky was still dragging him along, maybe he’d been off the mark.

At least he’d been allowed to take a break after an hour of schlepping donation boxes up to the children’s wing. Of all the places his dad went to for charity work, hospitals were by far his least favorite. The colorless, sterile atmosphere was just unnerving to be around. As soon as he could, he made a dash for the nearest sign pointing him toward the courtyard.

Sin swiped his guest ID through the maglock, which released with a cheery beep. The white walls and stench of antiseptic gave way to an array of soft colors and the smell of flowers. He took a deep whiff of the aroma and sighed with relief. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his handheld, fully charged for when he got a break and could take a minute to loaf off and relax.

Which game had he left in it this time? He popped out the cartridge and smiled. That was right. Pocket Beasts: Light version. His current favorite. He just needed a comfy place to hunker down and play.

A few stone benches were placed in between bushes and flowerbeds, all unoccupied. The place looked really empty, but it made sense. Everyone who wasn’t already busy was probably at Ky’s speech. At least it meant he’d be able to get some peace and quiet and privacy.

He spotted a pretty lavender flower poking out of the bushes and approached. The ‘flower’ moved, making him realize he’d seen wrong. Sin groaned inwardly at the sight of another person, perched on the short stone wall surrounding the flowerbeds. They didn’t glance up, if they’d even noticed him at all, appearing too absorbed in their own handheld device to care about much else.

“H-hey.” He raised a hand at them, and offered a twitchy half-smile. There were so many ways he knew this could go wrong. Sometimes people screamed at him until he fled, or immediately launched into the most boring small-talk possible. Sin just wanted to play his game, he really had no interest in causing any trouble. “Can I sit down?”

Sin braced himself for a response, but he didn’t get one. “Hey?” He tried again, waving harder. Maybe they were deaf? “Is it ok if I sit out here?”

Eyes glanced up at him, but only for a half-second before they returned to the screen. Well, it wasn’t a ‘no,’ so the best he could assume was they just didn’t care.

Hesitantly, he found a place to sit. If the hospital gown and IV hadn’t already given it away, it was pretty clear that he was a patient, not a visitor. He was scrawny and spindly to the point where it was almost disturbing, his skin was pale and sickly, and the messy bedhead was only slightly offset by the awkward purple hair dye. Why was he out here in the first place, instead of at Ky’s speech?

He knew staring was rude, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Every time he tried, there was another odd little detail that caught his attention. A peculiar little hairclip in the shape of a pink arrow. A purple charm bracelet half-hidden by his standard-issue hospital band. Glittery star stickers on the sides of his handheld, and- hey, he recognized that game!

His expression brightened. “Oh, you play Pocket Beasts too? That’s my favorite! Who’s your starter?”

The only response he got was a couple of button clicks. Sin found himself sinking back into an uncomfortable silence. Well, he supposed it was better than being yelled at. He switched his game on.

Dad said he wasn’t supposed to use the internet at the hospital because it would mess with all the fancy machines, so online matches were out of the question. Well, there was always the battle tower. Maybe he could item grind to kill time. He still needed to finish his Soup Encyclopedia and some of the rare cooking items could only be found there.

Any discomfort he had was wiped away with the familiar music and intro screen of the game. How could he worry when there were battles to be won? All he had to worry about was making the most of his free time.

His avatar flickered into existence, still in the last town he’d visited. As soon as he moved towards the nearest building, though, a little indicator popped up on the bottom of the screen. Puzzled, Sin took his stylus and tapped on the icon.

Trainer BEDMAN would like to battle!

>Accept Decline

‘Bedman?’ He looked up at the little avatar that had appeared, then glanced off to the boy at his side. The messy lavender dye-job was surprisingly close, as was the magenta arrow pinning his bangs out of his eyes. Was it just some weird coincidence? If he wanted to play, he could have just asked…

Despite his confusion, Sin clicked ‘Accept.’ PvP battles were more fun than doing the same grind he had done over and over again. Even if he did lose, it was in a totally unique way.

The usual introductory animations played out as their avatars posed and tossed their first beasts into battle. Sin had to snicker at the disparity between their choices. He always liked sending his biggest and toughest beasts out in the beginning, and pretty much anything looked tiny beside it.

But smaller meant faster, so he wasn’t all that surprised to see the other one attack first. He braced himself for a tough starting move...only to be confused at the sight of a sand cloud being thrown at him.

Enemy Used SAND TOSS!

Accuracy Lowered!

Sand toss? What a waste of a turn! Sin grinned as it switched to his turn. Karate chop, a pretty powerful start, it always hit, and he had the type advantage, what a great way to start a match- !

Attack Missed!

“What!? How did that miss!?”

“Karate chop has a standard accuracy of 100%.” A low, quiet voice spoke up next to him, making Sin practically jump back in shock. “But I lowered your accuracy with sand toss, so now there’s a 15% chance it won’t hit.”

“...Huh.” He looked back at his screen. “Never see people use sand toss out of, like, NPC fights.”

“Most players treat accuracy-modifiers as a waste of time, but if you have a Pocket Beast with a high enough defense, then the turns spent not attacking are made up for when the opponent can barely hit you later.” The strange boy had such a casual tone to his voice, as though they’d been conversing for hours already.

It was a bit jarring, but Sin tried to roll with it. “I guess that does make sense. Sorta like when a beast has the ‘Decoy’ ability and the first attack never hits?”

“Kind of. But a lot of players know which beasts can have Decoy, so they know ahead of time to focus on stat-altering moves or poisoning instead of wasting a turn when they know attacking won’t do anything. Take your turn.”

It took him a moment to process the last bit, but he noticed the battle menu had popped up again. He picked another attack. “Why’d you want to battle me? Did you just pick at random?”

“You were the only opponent available.” Another sand toss. “It’s hard to find people to play with on local, and I’m not allowed to use global matchmaking in my room because it needs an internet connection.”

Sin waited for his two-turn charge move to activate, but before it could be his turn, a swift attack managed to knock his beast out cold. “Damn it! I thought I had that…”

He spotted a triumphant little smirk out of the corner of his eye. “Pocket Beasts is all about tactics. You have to take everything into account. It’s easy to just care about how much damage a move can do, but you’re doomed from the start if you don’t have the right stats, or the best moveset to compliment them.”

He couldn’t help but grin along with him. “Wow, you’re really good at strategy!

‘Bedman’ managed a small, awkward smile. “Well, um, not like I have much else to do…”

“Really?” Sin tilted his head. “I guess it’s good you’ve got something fun to do while you’re here, all this hospital stuff skeeves me out. When do they let you go back home? I dunno how long you’ve been here, but I think I’d go nuts after a couple of days.”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been here a while, already.” A lucky hit from Sin’s beast managed to knock his first one out. “Since...last January, if I remember correctly.”

Last January? Jeez, forget a few days, he was sure he’d be past insanity after a whole year!

Sin donned a look of pity. “That sucks. What’s wrong with you?” The words came out before he could think or realize that it wasn’t an especially nice thing to say. “Uh, shit, sorry-”

“Mmm. It’s okay. At least you don’t mince your words. I have a neurological disorder that affects how my brain processes information. It’s a bit hard to describe. Let’s say a human brain is like a computer, it processes the inputs that are fed into it. Powerful, modern computers can process a lot of information all at once, but if a computer is old, or wasn’t built properly, trying to process too much information can make it overheat and crash.”

“Oh. So how do you keep it from ‘overheating?’”

“Sleep, mostly. I’m only awake for a few hours every day. When I’m awake, and I don’t have tests to do, I like to play games. My sister and I play multiplayer sometimes, but usually I have to play by myself. She has the same problem I do, so a lot of the time one of us is asleep during the times the other’s awake.”

Was it weird to get all this personal information from someone he’d just met? Sin wasn’t sure. But he did like talking to this guy. “Well, want to swap Friend Codes? If we’re registered as friends then local multiplayer should work, then you don’t have to use an internet connection!”

“Where do you live?”

“Central Illyria!” Sin beamed. “Like, half an hour at most. It should still work from there.”

The other boy gave him an odd look. “I’m sure there’s plenty of hospitals closer to you, then. Why did you come out all the way here?”

That got him to roll his eyes, making an exaggerated gagging noise. “My dad. He always drags me along on his charity stuff, carrying boxes and shit. He only let me take a break because he’s making some dumb speech up in the-”

And the regret came just as fast as he saw his companion’s expression shift. He hated the visits, obviously, but he knew it was important to a lot of people. And if someone had been stuck in a hospital for that long, maybe they’d be happy to have someone new come by. He must have come off as such a dick-

Before he could stew on it more, he heard a little laugh. “Yeah. I hate those, too.” Bedman was smiling at him. “You’re Kiske’s kid? That’s got to be awful.”

“Heh. Yeah, it really is.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Never gave you my name, did I? I’m Samson, but everyone just calls me ‘Sin.’”

“I was curious about your name, that does make a bit more logical sense.” His companion nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Sin.”

“Same! What about you? Can’t imagine your name’s really ‘Bedman,’ is it?”

“More of a screen name, really. My name is-”

“Mattie! Dr. Baldy says you’ve gotta have your IV changed!”

They both jumped at the sudden noise, accompanied by the slam of a door. A girl with shaggy blonde hair and familiar features limped into the courtyard, setting her sights on them as soon as she was visible.

“There you are! I just knew you’d be out here.”

“Well, there’s not many other places I could be…” He said. “When did you wake up?”

“‘bout half an hour ago.” She replied. “Just in time for mom and dad to send me out to look for you.”

The girl’s expression changed when she noticed Sin. “Oh! Mattie, who’s this?”

“Sin, this is my twin sister, Delilah.” ‘Mattie’ pointed to her. “Delilah, this is my...new friend.”

“New friend?” Delilah reached out and shook Sin’s hard with a remarkable amount of strength. “Did my baby bro talk your ear off about his favorite game again?”

“You’re only older by nine minutes, Delilah!”

“He’s really good at Pocket Beasts.” Replied Sin. “It was fun playing with him!”

At that, he realized neither of them had selected anything in a while. He looked down at his screen

TIME UP

DRAW

“Aww, maaaaan…”

“Do we have enough time for another match?” Mattie asked.

“Dr. Baldy looked really serious. We probably can’t make him wait that long.” Delilah shook her head.

Sin tried to bring the mood back up. “Well, we were still gonna swap Friend Codes, right? Then we can play whenever! Either of you have something to write with?”

Delilah pulled a thick black sharpie from her sock. “I have a marker! But no paper…”

“Oh! Hold on a sec.” Sin rolled his jacket sleeve up and held out his arm. Just write it on the back!”

The two of them looked hesitant. “Is that safe?”

“It’s totally fine! It’s a little hard to wash off, but that means it won’t smear before I get home!”

Mattie took the marker and began scribbling on his forearm. “You’re really quite strange, Sin.”

“Thanks!” As soon as the wet feeling on his arm went away, he twisted around to see two series of digits.“What’s this other number?”

“Our phone number. If, um, you ever feel like calling.” Despite his attempts to hide it, Sin could see the faint blush to the other boy’s cheeks. “Do you think you could do one more thing very quickly?”

He couldn’t think of what it could have possibly been. “Yeah?”

“Can you draw something on me? I’ve never done it before. I want to see what it’s like.”

He grinned. “Hell yeah! I’ll try and draw something cool real quick!”

Delilah winced. “You know mom and dad are going to kill you, right?”

“Just say it was my idea!” Sin beamed. Mattie flinched the first time he pressed the marker to his skin, but he managed to still draw a straight line. He couldn’t think of anything in particular to draw, so he settled for a series of sharp, criss-crossing black lines circling his forearm. “How’s that?”

“...woah.” Simple as it was, Mattie looked utterly awestruck. “It’s…

“C’mon, Mattie, we’ve gotta go!” Tired of waiting, Delilah all but dragged him off the wall.

“See ya!” Sin waved as they departed. “You’d better bring your A-game next time we battle, I don’t lose easy!” He folded up his game and tucked it into his back pocket. That was probably his cue to leave, too.

As he hopped off the wall, he could make out a faint voice trailing away to the other side of the courtyard.

“Huh? What’s the deal with you, Mattie? You never look that happy!”

Sin smiled as he turned to leave. Ky was probably waiting for him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been excited for the next visit.

#AU-gust #writing #guilty gear #Sin Kiske #Bedman

12 notes · View notes