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#and that's surely a large part of the dwelling and the fixation. if things had been more equal then maybe it'd be very different now.
solarisposting · 3 months
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screaming myself hoarse til I pass out we were together during a very tumultuous time in our lives I will always have your back and be curious about you about your career your whereabouts!!!
#not about j we're good - about the friend who i haven't shut up about in the 14 years i've been on the hellsite#the fun part is that i know his forever career and his forever whereabouts and it will break my heart into shards for the rest of my life!#and goddamnit we weren't romantically together but instead together as part of a weirdly codependent friend group of four and we were#near identically weird and fucked up emotionally and in our humor and how we spoke and how we meshed and i will NEVER fucking get over it!!#i'm still agog that i sent you a last chance hail mary sort of letter like the lyrics in this song about how i think about you often and#have always believed in you and been rooting for you like all the rest of us who knew you before things got really bad because you were and#are such a fucking incredible person and musician and friend and so smart and creative and LOVABLE! i said that in the letter without#realizing alanis said that in one of THE best lost love songs of all goddamn time!#i wish i could tell you one more time - right now today immediately or better yet five years ago - how i have always loved and admired you#and everything about you. even now. all the way out here in iowa i am still loving you with everything i have in me every single day#knowing i will never speak to or see you again [i think about you all the time but i don't need the same] and i finally started to admit#that to myself and my friends and my therapist in 2021 and i'm more at peace with it than i ever was or thought i could be in 2019 and 2020#but i know it's gonna take my whole lifetime to get a grip on it and accept it. and it'll stop hurting one of these days. i know it will#i don't think i've ever loved a friend as much as I loved you. i think you were the best friend i've ever had#and that's one of the nastiest parts of it - we were good friends and you did seem to like me plenty#but i think i was the w-h-auden_morelovingone.txt by a mile. i was a weird obsessed stage 10 clinger.#and that's surely a large part of the dwelling and the fixation. if things had been more equal then maybe it'd be very different now.#guess i'll die because i sure ain't finding out!!#HELLO LOVES HAVE SOME RICH NUTRITIOUS ANNIE LORE ON THIS FINE FREEZING COLD SUNDAY AFTERNOON!#ann with an ie#<- this was a nightmare to type out and feel but i wanna keep it around for whenever i get the balls to talk about it in therapy again
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goldenfigtree · 7 months
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Lipstick Smudges
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Part 1 of 3
Summary: Leon attends your engagement party to support you despite his repressed feelings for you.
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x FemReader
Warning: fluff
A/N: Tried something a little different from my usual writing but I hope y’all enjoy lemme know what y’all think :)
Part two is right here: Part Two
The car radio made up for the silence in Leon’s jeep as his knuckles tightened around the steering wheel.
He couldn’t believe he was doing this. But then again, how could he not? You practically begged him to come, he was your closest friend after all.
Friend.
He hated when she used the word, yet couldn’t really blame her. It was technically his fault for not toughening up and confessing. Leon’s communication skills strike again and now here he was, driving to your engagement party in his best suit, his hair slicked back. He remembered you saying that you liked how it looked on him once. Your voice softly echoes in his brain as he recalls this memory,
“I like your hair like that, really brings out your eyes”
Your smile inks into his memory. What he would do to make you smile like that again. Like he was the only one in the world.
Somehow, these thoughts thread together like a spiderweb, at its center the sentence:
Maybe, just maybe there’s still hope.
It was impossible to forget that little twinkle in your eye when he walked into the room, the smile that outdid all the sunrises he witnessed in his lifetime, the laugh that made his heart flutter with every ripple of tone.
He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles white. Shaking his head, his pupils retreat to a smaller size. He knew he couldn’t do that to you. It would be unfair, selfish. But God, he wanted you all for himself. It’s barely the car ride there and he’s already wanting this engagement party to end.
Once he parked his car, he made his way to the ivy covered villa with windows projecting a yellow glow. He could already hear the cheerful congratulations and cheers to the happy couple, his stomach churned at the sound of them. He was only a second away from entering when a familiar face swung the door open and turned to him in a bit of surprise, car keys in hand,
“Hey stranger, you’re a bit late” it was Claire, red gown and all.
“And you’re leaving early” Leon acknowledges, eyes fixated on the car keys. He had to stop himself from asking if he could go with her. Come up with an excuse—that he got sick. He knew he was about to be sick soon, so it wouldn’t really be a lie, just a preparation. Claire blinked at him curiously and tilted her head down to see where he was looking,
“Oh! I’m just getting my present from my car” Claire assures nodding her head towards the car, her ponytail swinging from side to side from the motion, “I’m surprised you’re here”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks defensively,
“Well, everyone knows you’ve had a thing for her since I don’t know how long” Claire responds with a shrug,
“That… was a long time ago” Leon mutters, his cheeks warm and his eyes fixated on the door, preparing himself to find what’s behind it. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Claire meets his eyes and gives him a reassuring grin,
“Hey, I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you. Ya know, I have to say, you’re a good guy for doing this despite.. ya know”
He certainly didn’t feel like that now, remembering the shimmering string of hope he dwelled on in the car ride. Not making eye contact with Claire, he merely nods his head and wraps his fingers around the golden doorknob,
“Right, see you in there”
Swinging the door open, voices swell the room and ring in his ears. The beautiful villa lit with large lit crystal chandeliers and the large amounts of people, made the whole place stuffy. Grimacing to himself, he subconsciously tried to find any trace of you as he pushed past the elegantly dressed guests.
Then there it was, your laughter. So loud, so unique, so unapologetically you. Turning his head he forgets how to breathe from the mere sight of you enjoying the conversation you were having. Champagne glass in your hand, the giant rock on your ring finger blinding anyone nearby and an elegant gown framing your figure, you don’t even realize Leon is halted there, mouth agape. Laughing and conversing cheerfully, you fan away the compliments and thank those who congratulate you while passing by. After finishing a conversation with one of the guests, you take a look around until your eyes are met with his. Time stopped and music deafened the moment your eyes locked on his. A joyful smile grows on your face as you shove your way through the people to get to him,
“You made it!” You exclaim so he can hear you over the boisterous chatter.
“Sorry I’m late” he greets with an apologetic smile.
“Don’t be, it’s not your type of scenery anyway” you insist, grabbing a champagne glass from one of the caterer’s trays and handing it to him,
“You know me too well”
“Come on, I know a much quieter place we can talk” you suggest, already walking through the crowd. Before he could even question this sudden suggestion, he almost loses sight of you and walks through the sea of people. He feels the warmth of a hand wrap around his wrist and tug him through, your giggle being the only distinct thing to make out that that hand was yours. Eventually, Leon finds himself outside in a garden. Bushes trimmed into elegant shapes and certain animals. Flowers of various colors in full bloom.
“So how’ve you been?” You begin to ask, both hands cradling the champagne glass, “I haven’t seen you in a while”
“I’ve been busier than usual” more like busier avoiding you and your fiancé, Will, at all costs. The sight of you two together made his heart shatter at the sight. The silence in response was enough for Leon to know you didn’t believe him, “I am busier” he insists.
“Alright” you respond with a shrug, a look of disbelief still remains on your face, “What do you think of Will?”
The both of you stop walking as he contemplates what he should say. He hated just looking at him for taking what he could’ve had. Looking at them, together, revived a battle of whether he should hate Will or himself for letting this happen.
“I don’t know Will” Leon decides to say, which was true. A sheepish giggle escapes your lips as you continue walking, “But as long as you’re happy”
“I guess that’s true” with your gown trailing behind, you sit at the edge of an extravagant fountain, placing your champagne glass on the cobblestone ground. The very top of the fountain had an eagle perched on a branch, the rest of it was ivy and smaller birds perched carved into the stone. The pad of your index finger strokes along the water. It was warm from being under the sun. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, facing you, he studied your face. Your eyes were much more solemn, your lips in a frown, a large contrast from a few minutes ago inside the villa.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks gently, his hand instinctively reaching to lay atop of yours— he pulls it away.
“Leon, I wonder what you would think of me” You begin to say, your eyelashes flutter as you look ahead at the garden, biting your lip softly.
“I don’t know what you mean”
“What if, I didn’t marry William” there was that beam of hope in him, rising again. Guilt covering it shortly after,
“Why?”
“I just, don’t know if he’s the one you know?” You gingerly reply, eyes finally looking into his, “There’s just… this feeling I can’t shake away. But I’m not sure if it’s just me having cold feet or if it’s real”
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, your eyes were set on his lips. He could hear his heartbeat patter in his ears as you leaned toward him, twinkling eyes and lips parted. Your breath against his skin sent a shiver down his spine. He could only remember one time the two of you were this close. His eyes gave into their hunger and watched as your lips moved closer and closer to his own. He couldn’t take it anymore, leaning forward, he closes the gap.
Trapped in the scent of your expensive perfume, the texture of your lips, he can feel goosebumps rise on his skin. Your lips follow this dance he’s leading, an excited breath shudders in the midst of it as his hands hold your face and keep you in place. Your heart was beating at an alarming speed from it all, but it only encouraged you to want more. Your senses were dulled by his lips, his presence, his scent, you didn’t want to stop. Your tongue meets his own, earning a sound from Leon that instantly makes you want to hear it again. That is, until you hear someone calling your name. You knew that voice, it was Will. Pulling away you look at Leon in horror. Everything that had happened setting in at once. Your lipstick smudged on Leon’s lips, his bright blue eyes looking at you like a deer in headlights as your future husband calls your name.
“I’m so sorry” you whisper, lifting up the skirt of your dress and running off to meet her fiancé. Leon sits there, paralyzed from everything, Will’s voice greeting you and breaking Leon in the process,
“There you are, I was looking everywhere for you”
“Well here I am” you say sheepishly as Will takes your hand in his.
Your lipstick smudged on his lips, his heart in turmoil, he drives home.
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inlovewithgreta · 11 months
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you are my sunshine
Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader
Chapter Ten
The next few days went by in a blur while everyone prepared for the Poe Cup.
You and Larissa had been too busy setting things up, going over everyone, and making sure everything was perfect. The last thing Larissa wanted was for something to go wrong. The two of you had been too busy to even be able to stop and talk about what almost happened in her office.
There was nothing else constantly in your mind except for the thought of Larissa's hand atop yours and slowly leaning forward with her eyes trained on your lips. Part of you couldn't even figure out if what you thought she was doing was something she was actually going to do.
It had made you anxious at the thought of if Marilyn didn't knock, but instead just walked in, she would've immediately caught you two in the act and figured out what was going on.
You didn't even realize that your feet were leading you straight towards Larissa's office until she spotted you just after closing the office door behind her.
"Addams!" She calls out, "There you are! I was just about to come looking for you, are you ready? The students are making their way down to the docks as we speak."
"Yeah. . ." Her calling you by your last name caught you off guard, but you didn't have time to dwell on the thought when she immediately nodded at your response and took long and quick strides down the hallway.
It was nearly impossible to keep up with her as you two made your way down towards the lake.
You were glad to see everything was set up exactly how Larissa had explained it to you. So far, everything was going as planned, but you couldn't shake off the feeling as if Larissa regretted what nearly happened that day in her office. She was being distant, something she had never done with you before.
"Larissa, slow down!"
The blonde was too far ahead to hear you over the sound of the excited students chirping away.
"Y/N!" A familiar voice calls out from behind you, causing you to turn around in the direction it came from. To your surprise, Marilyn was just a bit behind you, smiling brightly as she made her way towards you. "Are you excited to see your sister perform today?" She asks.
"Very!" You two walk side to side. "She's an Addams so I have no doubt that she'll be victorious today. We are very competitive."
"Oh I don't doubt that one bit. That girl is like a firecracker."
You noticed Larissa standing behind a microphone, tapping away at the speaker to catch everyone's attention. Marilyn guides the two of you to the front row, standing almost directly in front of Larissa. She immediately caught sight of you and Marilyn standing shoulder to shoulder while you had a smirk on your face when you noticed Wednesday in her cat outfit, matching the rest of her team.
The blonde had to force her eyes away from you as she spoke to the large crowd of students and teachers. As soon as she looked away from you, your eyes turned onto her, admiring her through your gaze as she stood tall and spoke proudly in front of the large group.
"Let the Poe Cup begin!" She shouts as each team quickly paddles deeper into the lake.
You and Marilyn both cheer on Wednesday as her team was the fastest at getting their start in the race. You use your hand to shield your eyes from the sun's rays as each team rows farther and farther away from you.
Even as the crowd was cheering on, Larissa couldn't help but fixate on the sound of your voice above all others. You and Marilyn were chattering away excitedly, unaware of the pair of blue eyes that found themselves studying your body language.
You watch as one team is quick to sink when their canoe brutally splits in half, and you were thankful that it wasn't Wednesday's team.
"They are definitely more brutal now than they were during my years as a student." You tried to speak over the noise but it immediately got drowned out after the students had a sudden loud burst of cheering.
"What?" Marilyn scrunches her face in confusion, causing you to bring your mouth closer to her ear and repeating what you had just said. "Oh, right! If you think that was brutal, you should've seen it last year, now that one was worrisome." She admitted.
You did your best to not let her words get to you as you knew Wednesday could take care of herself, but the other part of you couldn't help but worry that something would happen to her while nobody was around to help her. She was too far out of your sight that if something did happen, there was nothing you nor anybody else could do about it.
"She'll be fine!" Marilyn assures you, flashing you with her usual sweet smile.
Larissa used her microphone once more once she caught sight of the teams coming back, announcing that there were only two left, and one of them happened to be the team Wednesday was on.
You couldn't help but cheer alongside Marilyn at the news, and the fact that you saw Wednesday's team pull quickly ahead. Not a moment later, the last team's canoe seemed to have sunk just before reaching back to the docks.
When you see Wednesday and Enid both sprinting towards the finish line, both you and Marilyn couldn't help but squeal and pull each other into a tight hug as your sister brushes past you to victory. A set of heated eyes had taken note of your reactions, going completely unnoticed by you as you celebrated with the redhead. Both you and Marilyn giggled when you had to help her fix her glasses after pulling away from the hug.
Celebrations were quickly moved back to the school when everybody reconvened at the center of the school's lively courtyard.
You could tell something was weighing heavily on Larissa's mind when she was announcing the winning team of the race when her eyes kept momentarily flicking to yours, to Marilyn's, then back to the crowd before her.
It was clear when you looked over at Wednesday that she didn't want to be there a moment longer once she became her usual deadpan self. Her gaze met yours for a brief second and you swear you could see her give you a brief half smirk when Larissa handed her group their trophy.
Your face slightly faltered when you were the only one to notice Wednesday slip from the group not a moment later and make her wake out of everyone's sight, but that didn't stop you from congratulating her roommate once everyone started to disperse, and telling her what direction Wednesday had headed off to.
As everyone stuffed their faces with their celebratory dessert, you and Marilyn were nearly stuck to each other's hip as you returned back to the winners of the Poe Cup and admired the enormous trophy that sat in the center of one of the tables. Both of you couldn't help but match each other's energy when you were around one another.
Wednesday and Larissa were having a private conversation just a few feet away from you, talking about Larissa's time at Nevermore as a student, but the blonde couldn't stop her racing thoughts when she heard you laugh at something Marilyn said.
Your eyes that once noticed Larissa with Wednesday, only looked away for a brief second before the two had seemingly disappeared by the time you went to look back at them.
You went to scan the courtyard for Larissa when you heard a familiar voice whisper lowly in your ear, sending a chill up your spine.
"Looking for someone?"
You immediately turn around, coming face to face with Larissa.
"Since you're asking, yes actually, I was looking for you."
Larissa licked her cherry red lips, trying and failing at hiding a snarky smirk.
"Interesting, I didn't think you'd even notice my absence with how interested you've been in Marilyn."
"Well, with the way you've disregarded me these last few days after our little office chat, I've needed to find some substitute. . . attention." You bravely smirk back at Larissa as you look up at her through your lashes.
"My office in five minutes."
Larissa turns on her heel and hastily makes her way through the crowd, brushing past numerous students as she enters back inside the school.
You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.
"You okay?" Marilyn asks, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, snapping your attention back to reality.
"Y-yeah, I uh, I think I'm just getting a bit tired. I'm gonna go back to my room and lay down for a while." You say with a forced smile, hoping Marilyn doesn't see through your lie.
"Are you sure? I can walk you back–"
"No no, it's okay, honestly. I'll talk with you tomorrow!" You quickly shuffle your way back into the school to avoid any more questions from the redhead.
You stand in the entranceway of the school, debating going down to Larissa's office as you had no idea what was going on in her head, but the thrill seeking side of you had you moving your feet as fast as they could go in heels.
You mentally scolded yourself for always wearing heels, knowing how much you walk every day.
Upon reaching Larissa's office, you notice her door was left open with just a crack, something Larissa had never done since you've been here. You took it upon yourself to slide the door open more with a gentle push, only to reveal Larissa leaning against her fireplace.
The soft light from the flames illuminated her porcelain skin, giving it the most majestic glow.
You closing the door lightly snapped Larissa out of her thoughts, turning her body towards you just as you leaned your back against the cold door.
"You've always been so... good at following my directions." Her head tilts to the side as she slightly pushes herself off the fireplace.
"Well, you are the one in charge after all." The corner of her lip just barely twitches up in a smirk.
"You would be correct."
She kept slowly stalking towards you, her heels clacking against the floor. In the short space she moved, you already needed to adjust your head to maintain eye contact as she got closer and closer with each step.
"Is this you finally showing me attention, Weems?" Though your confidence didn't fully match your statement, you planted yourself in place in front of the door in hopes of being believable.
At the use of her last name, she paused in question just mere feet from where you stood.
"Weems? What's with the sudden use of formalities?"
"Well, you tell me. You've addressed me by my last name for the last few days. Care to explain that one to me?"
She slightly shrugged, "With the busyness of the last few days, professionalism was necessary. And it's one thing that never fails to grab a person's attention."
"Well you've succeeded, you officially have my attention."
"Is that so?" She lifts an eyebrow while leaning one hand against the door just slightly beside your head.
"Mhm. . ." You feel all sense of confidence slowly drifting away at her closeness as you look up at her through your lashes. ". . . And what are you going to do now that you have it?"
You felt the need to hide your hands behind your back, the action not going unnoticed by the blonde towering in front of you. A smirk toyed at her cherry red lips when she realized what you were doing.
"What is it you want me to do, Y/N?"
"I– I want–" Words incoherently fumbled out of your lips as your confidence had since wilted away when she tucked a stray hair behind your ear. You couldn't help but flick your eyes to her parted lips as a way to answer her.
"Use your words, darling."
"I– want you to kiss me." You admitted as your face instantly casted a pink blush against your cheeks.
Larissa ever so slightly bit her lip with a small smile before closing the distance between the two of you. Hands gently cupped your reddened cheeks, bringing your face up to hers as lips joined together in a tender kiss.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at Larissa's soft touch. Her thumb sweetly stroked your cheek as her teeth grazed your bottom lip before gently tugging it and deepening the kiss.
Your hands landed upon her hips as your lips moved together as one in perfect sync.
Time appeared to have stopped altogether as the two of you got lost in the moment, savoring every second of the sweet kiss.
Larissa pulled you in as close as possible, almost intoxicated by your touch.
You both wore matching smiles once Larissa reluctantly pulled away to breathe some air back into her lungs. She lightly chuckled as she brought a thumb to your lips, wiping off a red smudge from her lipstick before it stained.
"See, now that's what I've been waiting for." Your eyes met with Larissa's ocean colored orbs, and you couldn't help but notice a new gleam in her eyes.
"Oh, I bet. I do remember a certain someone admitting to having a little crush on her boss."
Larissa didn't think your blush could spread anymore until her last words caused the shade to darken.
"So you do admit it was you pretending to be Marilyn."
"Fine. Yes, it was me. But, I couldn't help myself, I was just simply too curious." Larissa admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
"Curious? Or jealous?" You both couldn't help your cheekiness now that you were finally able to have this conversation.
Larissa playfully rolled her eyes before pulling you into another kiss, both of you smiling as your lips reconnected to form a perfect match.
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write-nerdy-to-me · 3 years
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~ destiel fic, hurt/comfort, 1k words, for @castielsdisciple​  
“Be still,” Dean murmurs to Cas when he flinches away again. He’s tried to minimize how much he pokes and digs, knowing what a bitch it is to be on the business end of pliers, but he can’t help that some of the shards are buried deep. He waits patiently as Cas takes a large swallow from the whiskey bottle he’s clutched like a lifeline, then Dean picks out yet another broken glass piece and drops it into the cup next to his hip.  
It couldn’t have just been a cut-and-dry D-list case, because life — this life especially — doesn't work like that. It was inevitable for shit to go sideways on them, and it’s laughable, fucking inane Dean ever dared to think otherwise. (“Good things do happen, Dean,” Cas said to him once. Dean’s still not convinced that's true.) 
Dean doesn’t know what it is about Cas, but the monster, like, fixated on him. The whole night, no matter how hard Dean fought to get the ugly bastard's attention, it kept going after Cas. Then monster grabbed and fucking bodily tossed him out the window and let out a roar that felt like it shook the whole house; Dean's only felt his heart leap into his throat like that a few times. He didn't get time to even process what happened because the monster, having taken out one opponent, turned and advanced on him. Dean had to finish the job alone, not knowing if Cas was even still alive. He ran to find Cas lying on a patch of wood chips, shattered glass surrounding him like a halo. Those few short moments felt like several lifetimes as he slid to his knees next to Cas, who was winded and aching and breathing. ("You alive?" Dean asked, and Cas huffed out a pained laugh and flipped him the bird. "Yeah — yeah, you're alive, you asshole.") 
Dean could swear that Cas has a deathwish or something because the reckless motherfucker refused to be checked out at the hospital. Dean insisted that he needed to go, as only so much could be done with the sparse supplies they had. They argued, and in the end, Cas’ stubborn glare won out. If he was gonna be like that, then Dean figured the sooner they get a move on and save Cas from his own bullheaded stupidity, the better. The last thing they need is Cas getting an infection. And the way he climbed into the Impala, slow, graceless, hiding his winces and grinding his teeth, only further proved that they should head to the hospital, but Dean held his tongue.
The ride back to the motel was, to say the least, unpleasant. In their room, it’s not much better. 
For the past hour now, Dean’s painstakingly removed a myriad of embedded glass and wood shards from Cas’ back, wiped away the blood, and applied ice to the welts that have already turned angry and dark. Cas hasn’t said a word since their fight— that disagreement back at the old farmhouse, but Dean's talked plenty for the both of them. He’s lost count of how many times he’s repeated this mantra: Be still, be still. How many times it’s followed by tiny plinks of glass and wood into a plastic cup. Dean would think Cas finds it patronizing — insulting, even — if it weren’t for the way the coiled tension in Cas’ shoulders starts to ease whenever he speaks. If it makes this process easier for him… well, then who’s Dean to deny him?
“Be still. I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Another glass piece. Plink.
The A/C unit in the corner kicks over with a wheeze. Cas says, “I don’t deserve this,” in a voice so hushed Dean would’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting right behind him. 
Dean’s hands stop, just for a moment. Plink, plink. “What are you talking about?”
Cas sighs. “I don’t deserve this. Your attention, your care, your lo—” He cuts himself off, arms coming around his middle and shoulders hunching away from Dean’s hands. A soft hiss escapes his lips as the motion tugs sharply at his wounds. He sounds like wishes he could take back the words the second they leave his mouth and hates himself for it. “Your kindness. I don’t deserve it.”
How could Cas think so little of himself? Believe himself so unworthy that he shouldn’t even receive the most basic care? But Dean gets it, maybe more than Cas realizes. “That’s bullshit,” Dean says mildly. Plink. 
“Dean...” Cas starts to shift further away from him, and that won’t do, because he needs to listen, needs to hear what Dean’s telling him, and he won’t if he’s already sinking into himself. 
“Don’t, I’m not finished,” Dean admonishes quietly. “I’m serious. Don’t move.” He touches Cas’ waist and— and he just stills with a shaky breath. If this were any other time, Dean would dwell on how Cas caves at the slightest touch initiated from him, how he always just lets him.
When it seems like Cas isn’t on the verge of bolting, Dean says, “I know there's something about this case that got to you bad — don’t think I didn’t notice, man.” Hunts aren't easy, and unexpected bodies turning up are never something a good hunter takes lightly, but Cas seemed to take each one like a devastating blow. Dean tried to press Cas about it, and he shook off Dean’s worry and pretended that everything was fine. Dean doesn't have to be a good hunter to know Cas was lying. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
Cas turns his face away. “There’s nothing to talk about.” A beat. Then, “I think you’d be better off hunting with Sam again.”
The fuck? Taken aback, heat starts to crawl up Dean’s face. Part of him wants to be angry — hell, he kinda is, underneath the hurt — but he takes a breath and lets it out slowly, for once grateful Cas is facing the other way. “I like hunting with you. Besides, Sam's got his club going on, and anything with Eileen he likes to be involved.”
“Maybe you should have a different partner. One that doesn’t fuck up.”
“Everyone fucks up,” Dean says defensively. “Cas, if this is about what you did, you’re already forgiven for that—” 
But Cas isn’t listening. The dam's busted open. “I’m supposed to— I used to be an angel. My powers, I could... I could help you, I could help Sam, but now I can’t — I can’t even do that.” Cas covers his face with his hands, rakes them roughly up through his hair. “I’m — I’m useless.”
Dean’s heart clenches sharply. He knew that the fading powers and subsequent loss of them had been hard on Cas, but Dean didn’t know it was affecting him this badly. Then he feels like an asshole, because of course this was, for fuck's sake. “Cas…”
Cas turns around, winces as he moves too quickly. He touches Dean’s face with gentle, hesitant fingers. There are scrapes and cuts Dean hasn’t taken care of yet, too occupied with making sure Cas doesn’t get a damn infection. Cas’ eyes grow sad; his brow furrows. “I miss— With a touch, I could heal you. I wouldn’t need you to care for me this — this way.” 
“Cas, man, you gotta know that it’s never been about your powers. You’re not a-a tool, Cas. All I want— It’s just you. I told you, man. I’d rather have you. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”
Cas is quiet for a minute. “Your faith... I've always admired it. How you put your trust in people. You're a good man, Dean."
"Yeah, well." Dean clears his throat. "Gotta make up for all the bad shit I've done, right?"
Cas hums, unconvinced. He grabs the damp rag that held the ice, shaking out the remaining pieces. He doesn’t seem to care where the ice landed. "Let me?" 
Dean almost says no, he's fine, but something in the way Cas looks at him... "Okay."
Cas wipes away the dried blood on Dean's face. Lately, he and Cas would be arguing, if they weren’t busy giving each other the cold-shoulder. It’s not the first time they’ve been at opposite ends or had disagreements — Dean refuses to say they bickered — not by a long shot. It’s just... been a while. Dean thought they were past petty fights. Now, though, they fall into a comfortable silence, for once not thick with tension from the unsaid. 
Cas’ thumb traces over the scar on Dean's chin, and he says, a hopeless look in his eye, "I love you. Did you know that?"
Dean just breathes and touches Cas' wrist. "Cas..."
"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know."
Dean tugs the rag out of Cas' hand. His mind is taking a second to reboot. But he knows — he knows he needs to kiss Cas right now. "C’mere," he mumbles and cups Cas' face between his palms and presses their mouths together. When they separate to breathe, Dean says, “It’s always you, Cas. You know that.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I love you.” The smile Cas gives him is soft and crooked and still sad. Dean’s not stupid; he knows things with Cas are rocky at best, but it’s a start. “Now turn back around so I can get the rest of the junk out, asshole.”
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beskar-cowboy · 4 years
Text
The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight
Part 4 of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series
Summary: You catch an accidental glimpse of the Mandalorian without his helmet, his instincts kick in. (4.4k words) link to read on ao3 here
Warnings: NSFW, Mando is kind of mean, the helmet is off but its still canon?, PIV sex, rough sex, he low-key kinda threatens the reader idk, spanking, soft ending to make up for whatever the fuck i just wrote <3 
A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (linearly in my masterlist) <3
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Perhaps swaddling the child to your chest on a desert planet was not the smartest idea. The heat was blistering, even though you wore less layers than usual. Just a tank top, some utility shorts and a blaster holstered to your thigh. And the baby of course, who had not stopped babbling since you left the ship, the only thing distracting you from this damned heat.
You could only imagine how Mando was feeling underneath all that beskar as he walked alongside you in silence, only stealing glances every now and then, as he usually did.
Even after travelling with them for half a cycle now, Mando still withheld so much from you.
Even after the two of you slept together for the first time, after some close call on some jungle planet, he still retreated into his usual silence.
But there were more gentle touches now, more lingering hands, more helmet tilts, but he still hadn’t let you in. You were okay with that, you knew that this was what he was used to, so you didn’t think too much about it.
You let him take what he needs without asking too many prying questions. If you were being honest, you liked the way he used you, you liked how he took it out on you, you liked how rough he got, how possessive, how starved he could be.
It had only amounted to a couple of times over the last month but… but you loved it. You looked forward to it, you thought about it, dreamt of… dreamt of him, of Mando, inside you, above you, under you-
Mando squeezed his large hand around your bicep, breaking you from your thoughts before nodding to you, then he departed. Off to meet with… whoever.
You stayed in the market and bought stuff for the ship.
Some new screws and bolts for parts that were missing or had to be fixed, food rations, dried meat, fruits that you knew Mando was fond of, some weird, shiny little trinkets the child seemed attracted to, and a new bar of soap. You had just finished the last one a few days prior.
After buying the necessities, you wandered around the little market with the child, bouncing him up and down against your chest and talking to him softly. He was very responsive today, not seeming too bothered by the heat thankfully.
But the sun was high in the sky, most likely at its peak, and it was unrelenting. The desert environment of the planet gave way to little shaded spots so you looked for water instead, finding a little mist station where children laughed and played. You ran through it a few times with the child, he screeched with joy.
On your last run through the mist, you caught sight of Mando approaching the two of you again.
That saunter… the way he walked was so intimidating, so sensual. You couldn’t help but let a shy smile stretch across your face at the people who cowered away in fear of the bounty hunter.
You made sure you had all your things in your sling, checking to see that the child hadn’t dropped his new toy and then you were off, heading back to the ship.
The walk felt longer now due to the long exposure you both had in the sun. Mando seemed to be trudging along just the same as you, profusely sweating and in desperate need for some water. And a shower.
Mando opened the hatch and you both stumbled inside, dropping your bags and untying the child from your chest where he had left a giant sweat stain from how tightly he had been pressed to you. Suddenly aware of how sweaty, sticky and disgusting you must seem, the only thing on your mind was a shower.
“I got you some Meiloorun, they seemed ripe.” You smiled at him as you gently placed the child on the floor of the Crest. He waddled towards his father, trying to show him his new toy.
“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He said in your direction, that deep modulated voice making you shiver. He seemed hesitant to look away, but picked up the child regardless, letting him show off his new shiny thing. Mando took it into his hands, playing with him, you smiled fondly.
“I’m going to go take a shower if that’s okay? To cool down a bit.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to ask his permission after all this time but you still felt the need sometimes. Maybe he would want help putting the stuff away that you had bought, maybe he wanted you to help with the child or something? You just couldn’t help the way your mind only fixated on the sweat and grime sticking to your flesh.
“Of course.” Mando nodded. You nodded back, turning on your heels to head into the ‘fresher just around the corner in the low cabin of the Crest.
You leave the door open, you think you don’t mind Mando seeing you if he decides to look or happens to catch a glimpse. Even though he’s never taken any of his armor off (besides his gloves) for you before, he’s seen every single inch of you.
You quickly peeled off your damp clothing, turning the water on and making sure it wasn’t too cold but cool enough to relax your heat exhausted body. You stepped in quickly, eager to cool yourself down.
You visibly relaxed as soon as the water hit your burning skin, your shoulders sagging, a sighing escaping your lips. You dug your fingers into your own flesh, trying to knead the tender muscles which strained under the weight of the child and the supplies. It wasn’t much but you still ached, the heat had definitely contributed to that.
Supplies… your new bar of soap! You had been excited to use it but completely forgot about it the second you returned to the ship, mind wiped blank by the desire to rid yourself of your dirty clothes.
Suddenly thankful you left the door to the refresher open, you stick your head out from behind the curtain and call for Mando, wondering if he could retrieve the sparkly blue soap bar for you.
Instead of being met with an empty doorway, you’re met with something else. And it’s as if the world moved around you in slow motion, your emotions moving over you like molasses.
First, confusion.
Hair. A head full of light brown, golden hair. It curled near the ends, into little wisps. It couldn’t be-
No. That couldn’t be Mando. It was as if your brain refused to acknowledge the shiny beskar that sat underneath that head of hair, refusing to realize it was the tin covered man you were looking at.
Second, curiosity.
Your eyes scanned over his head, taking in the way the bathroom light shined over his hair, making it reflect all different shades of brown and caramel.
It was now that you realized that his head was turning, that’s why the light was bouncing off it so dynamically.
His head continued to turn. An ear.
Third, shock.
It was only when you saw the sliver of skin, the shell of his ear, the inner workings of the intricate cartilage, and the profile of his supple cheekbone that you let out a startled, and perhaps unnecessary, shriek.
Your hands flew up to cover your eyes, to shield them from the forbidden view. You turned back into the shower, facing the wall, away from Mando.
He saw more of you than you had of him. He saw the way your chest heaved, the way the water flew off your body as you twirled to face the tiled wall of the shower, away from him. He watched the water hit your back-
You had seen him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.
He hated the way his instincts kicked in. He hated the way he was trained to kill whoever saw him, whoever looked, whoever dared unmask him.
Almost innately, his hand reached for the light switch, plunging the refresher into darkness as he stalked towards you, pressing his hand to your head and pinning you against the cool tile of the shower forcefully and efficiently.
Mando’s body followed suit, bringing both of you underneath the steady shower stream, pinning himself against your backside. The cold bite of his beskar in contrast to the cool water making you whimper, the force of his hand pressing your cheek into the wall made you see stars behind closed eyelids.
“What did you see?” He asked, voice gruff, strained, unmodulated.
Fuck.
Of all the months you had spent aboard the Razor Crest, living with him, fucking him, you had never heard his voice without the helmet, without some sort of barrier. You regret the way it made you moan, how easily he could make you melt.
“N-nothing, I didn’t-”
“What did you see?” He pressed onto your harder, with his hand and his body weight, pining you completely to the wall, making you at his mercy. You cry out at his cold touch, at his harshness. Mando had been frustrated, even angry, with you before but now… now he was about to truly end you.
But all you could think about was how beautiful his real voice sounded. It always sounded beautiful to you, from the moment you met him, it had made you weak, but this… this was unlike anything you could have imagined.
“Hair,” you cry, unsure if you were truly crying or if it was just water from the endless stream running above both of you now. “I s-saw your hair, your ear… I-I’m sorry-” You hiccup, trying to regain your breath and not inhale too much water as your chest heaved.
Without the helmet Mando was quickly realizing that he could genuinely hear you for the first time, your trembling voice ringing through his ears without being slightly distorted by the helmet’s filters. He could….
He could smell you too. The sweet scent of your skin, of your wet hair tangling in his fingers as he continued to hold you in between the tiles and his unforgiving beskar.
You… the sight of you pinned against him, your wet skin, water dripping down your flesh in rivulets, your whimpers, your cries, your tears, the way your eyes closed, the way you kept them closed even now, drowning in darkness, your cheek flush against the tile.
Completely at his mercy.
You weren’t even fighting him.
“Fuck.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your temple. You whimpered at his sudden movement, so on edge.
You knew he was trained to kill. You knew what happened to people who even attempted to look at him. You had seen it, you had been there when it happened once, ignorant vendors trying to taunt him, trying to tease the Mandalorian. How stupid they were, now dead somewhere in a ditch. Would he do that to you? It would be so easy for him...
Mando wondered if you could see him in the darkness as well as he could see you. He knew you couldn’t, the lack of windows deprived the room of any light sources. Luckily, his eyes were trained and used to harsh environments, low visibility. Luckily, he could see you trembling against him.
He removed his hand from your head, sliding both of his hands now to hold your hips, digging his blunt nails into the flesh, leaving crescent moon-shaped indents behind. You yelped at the sting but didn’t pull away. You liked it.
“I’m sorry-”
“Stop talking.” He growled and you bit your lip, unaware that you had opened your eyes due to the deep, dark abyss you had been plunged into.
You could truly not see a thing. All your senses became focused on the way Mando touched you, the way he’s wedged you between the wall and himself, the death grip he had on your hips, the way his breaths came out quickly and evenly onto your cheek. He was breathing almost as hard as you were.
He nudged his nose onto your cheek and you nudge your cheek back onto him, trying to remind him that it was just you, that you’re not a threat, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.
This is The Way. This is The Way… This is The Way… This… is-
Fuck. You were distracting him. Your little whimpers, the way you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. So willing, you were always so willing for him. So fucking easy and it drove him crazy.
His skin… it felt so good against yours. You had only felt the rough, rarely tender caress of his rough palms. Never of his face, his lips, his nose… You felt like you were being driven insane, you couldn't believe how close his unmasked face was to yours.
You could kiss him…
Mando continued to rub his nose against you, suddenly so lost in the feel of your skin against his. No one had ever been so close to him, so invasively close, breathing in and breathing out the same air, sharing. Feeling your eyelashes flutter against his own, your lips, open panting, swollen and pliant and inviting. He could… he could-
“Mando-”
You’re cut off by his hand suddenly slithering down your body and cupping your cunt. You gasp, unable to help the way your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, into his own hips as well, feeling a growing hardness between his legs.
You were hot, so, so hot down between your thighs. Slippery too, and Mando knew it wasn’t just the water. It was thick, sticking to his fingers, practically begging for him. Mando groaned against your open lips, both of you panting into each other’s open mouths.
“You... you fucking like this, don’t you?” He rasped, biting onto the side of your bottom lip. You whimpered, hips bucking into his hand again. What were you supposed to say? How were you to answer that?
Yes Mando, I like how fucking intimidating you are.
Yes Mando, I like how much bigger you are than me, how easy it would be for you to snap me like a twig.
Yes Mando, I like when you’re rough with me, I get off on it, I crave it, I-
“Fucking answer me.” Mando growls, latching his teeth onto your earlobe now. His hand continued to cup your sex, not truly going anywhere near where you needed him. You still couldn’t fucking comprehend that he was without his helmet, his face right next to yours…
“Yes!” You squeaked as his fingers brushed along the inside of your folds, parting you, dragging his fingers along the length of you, slipping through your sweet cyprine. You let out an unholy moan, so ashamed at how easy you were for him.
Mando kisses your ear, trails his tongue down your neck, collecting the water that pebbles down your flesh as if it were syrup.
This… is, The Way. This is- The Way-
His fingers brush up against your clit accidentally and you buck into him again, desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of attention he could give you.
Mando was trying to calm himself down. He had just been on the brink of snapping your neck and now he was overcome with lust, the desire to fuck you, stuff you full of his cock. The two extremes were dizzying, he felt drunk off of some fancy and expensive cider from some far off planet in The Core. But he supposes that’s just what you did to him.
Before he even realizes it, he’s unzipping his pants, letting the top fall undone and pulling his cock out, letting it rest against your backside. You bite your lip, trying to turn your head to look towards him but your eyes are unable to adjust, you feel as though you can see the outline of his face but… but you’re sure it’s an illusion of the dark.
“Please, Mando-” You weren’t one to beg, Mando wasn’t one to make you beg because he was always as desperate, always as pent up, touch-starved, hungry as you were.
When you two fucked it was never slow, never drawn out, never languid, luxurious. No, it was rough, mean, volatile, desperate and just fucking needy. You needed each other, and Mando fucked you like it would always be the last time, every time. Like he would never have you again, like he would never split you open again.
Mando shoves his entire length into you in one hard thrust, knocking the wind out of you from how deep he reaches so easily at this angle. He rests for a moment, savouring the way your pussy flutters and clenches around him from the sudden intrusion, trying to adjust to his substantial length.
His head pressed right up against yours, he can hear all the pretty sounds you're making, even over the loud patter of water against his beskar which begins to weigh him down from how soaking wet it's getting.
But Mando doesn’t care, he can’t, not when you’re whimpering for him in that pretty way you do, not when you clench so tight around him that he feels like he could cum without even having moved. You beg, you beg and beg and beg for him to move but he just closes his eyes and feels you pulse, hot and tight and snug around him with that perfect little cunt of yours.
You hadn’t seen him, he thinks to himself. You hadn’t actually seen him, he’s okay, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.
You.
Quivering at the end of his cock, moaning, grasping at the tiles, trying to find purchase on something, taking him all the way in like you always do, like a good fucking girl.
He hadn’t even realized that he had started thrusting, in and out with reckless abandon, bottoming out every single time before pounding back into you, making you whimper and cry.
“W-what’s my name?” He asks suddenly, pulling you from floating away towards whatever astral plane you were near close to ascending too, the one his thrusts were pushing you towards as he rearranged you from the inside out.
You had to think, you had to think of his name because your find was blank, he was fucking you dumb.
“Mando.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the cold tiles, keeping your head turned so that he could keep his face pressed into your cheek, nose nudging yours, lips brushing but not kissing.
“No… what’s my fucking name?” He grits from behind clenched teeth, punctuating his words between harsh, unforgiving thrusts. You hiccup, unable to swallow down air properly as he fucks you into the wall.
His name?
What did he-
Oh.
His name. Mando had never told you his name, his actual name.
Was this a test? You shook your head ‘no’ as his arms wrapped around you, locking you in place as his ungloved hands came to grope at your breasts, using your own body as leverage to fuck into you harder. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back, letting it rest on his beskar covered shoulder. You turned your head and let your lips brush against his cheek but he turned his head too, lips brushing against his own and you both gasped and whimpered in unison. He seemed insistent on not kissing you, so you just went along with it, all your wits being literally fucked out of you.
“I-I don’t know.” You finally answered, your voice coming out small, between laboured breaths.
You didn’t know him, he thought. He still had something of his identity held in privacy, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know him.
“You don’t- you don’t know me,” He begins to say and it makes you cry, you cry against his mouth, your body shaking, bouncing against his, water beating down on both of you. “B-but you still let me fuck you like this, don’t you sweet girl?”
You scream. You scream when his hand lets go of your left breast only to come back down onto it, slapping the underside of the supple flesh. You wail and cry and moan the only name he’s ever told you.
Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando.
He grabs your jaw in one of his strong hands, angling your face towards his, a sight unseen.
“Answer me when I speak to you, cyar’ika.” He says forcefully, regardless of the nickname.
“Y-yes.” You choke out, trying to nod your head in his tight hold but you barely can. You were right on the brink, you felt as if he were to say one more thing in that deep, rough voice of his you would cum.
“Yes, what?” He grits, fucking your harder, moving his hand down to your neck and pushing you back against the cold tiles, making you yelp and cry for him, at the cool bite of ceramic materials.
“It’s c-cold, Mando.” You whine. He slaps your ass, his hand cracking down on your flesh, no doubt leaving a mark to find again tomorrow. You squeeze your eyes shut, bordering on overstimulation from his cock, his slaps, the water turning colder.
The ship never had a great water supply.
“Answer me.” He fucks you harder, faster, deeper, un-preciously and slaps your ass again, the other cheek this time.
“Y-yes! Yes I..I still l-let you… let you fuck me like this!” You cry and shake against the tile.
Mando’s arms quickly wrap around like they had before, hauling you back into his body. He snakes his hand down and rubs against your clit in fast, precise motions.
Almost instantaneously, your mind goes blank, your eyes roll into the back of your head. One of his arms wraps across your front, against your chest, holding your shoulder in a death grip, his other hand still working on your clit, his thrusts unrelenting as you cum and cum and cum around his thick cock.
“That’s it. That’s it... Good f-fucking girl.” He rasps, holding you tightly, thrusting a few more times before he empties himself inside you with a growl, painting your walls with him, branding you, owning you.
You moan at the sensation, the way his hot cum fills you to the brim before leaking out, back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs. You both pant, your chest heaving in time with his as he fucks it back into you as deep as it’ll go, stuffing you so, so full of him. 
You keep your eyes closed, afraid of opening them, afraid he can see you even in this darkness. Even though you know he can.
Mando stays inside you until he’s softened, relishing in the way your pussy trembles around his girth, sucking him in as deep as you can for as long as possible.
When he eventually does pull out with a low growl, you hear him twist the knobs of the shower, the water suddenly becoming warmer, heating your now freezing skin. All these temperature changes were making you feel light-headed, the rough fuck you just got from Mando not helping your case either.
“Wha-”
“Stay here, warm up.” Mando cuts you off, you hear him step out of the shower.
A series of loud bangs resonate throughout the refresher, making you jump. Only one thing could be that loud. Is he… removing his beskar?
“Mando-”
“You’re always so cold when we’re travelling… can’t believe you were taking a cold shower.” He mumbles to himself, you can imagine him shaking his head. You’re stunned honestly, at how much he’s talking, especially without the helmet, that fact alone still lost on you. His voice was so beautiful, you had thought it to yourself about a hundred times now since you first realized he took the helmet off.
You stand under the warm stream, your quaking shivers slowly dissipating. You feel his presence enter the shower again, this time you can clearly feel his body heat, more flesh. He’s naked.
Mando is standing naked with you in the shower.
You involuntarily step away from him but he catches you, his hand landing on your waist, his hand softly grasping the flesh there. Such a stark contrast to the way he just fucked you into oblivion.
He’s naked.
This man had never removed anything besides his gloves. Even when he fucked you, the armor stayed on. You’re not sure if it was an issue of trust or due to his boundaries or his Creed. But considering he almost just killed you for accidentally seeing his ear and cheek, and was now standing naked with you in the dark… well, maybe it was a bit of both. You were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this, nothing was making sense to you.
The hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, your chests and bellies bump together and you gasp. Mando is firm, you knew this but… but to actually feel him against you, well, you could cry about it honestly.
You felt uncertain about what to do with your hands, unsure if you were allowed to touch him but you tentatively lifted them to his chest anyways, letting them rest against his solid pecs. His skin was soft despite the random series of raised flesh that seemed to brand him, his scars. You don’t think you ever wanted to see someone’s scars, someone’s skin as badly as you do now. But you would right out ask for it, you couldn’t.
You felt Mando lift something to your skin, it was smooth as it glided along your arm, your shoulders, across your back. A fruity, earthy scent filled your nose.
Your bar of soap.
He must have grabbed it before he took off his beskar. You lean into him unknowingly, the hand at your waist moving to hold you against him more easily as he washed you. You let your face rest against his chest, the little spot where his throat meets his collarbones. He smelled like sweat, grime, gun powder, he smelled like Mando.
You pressed your lips to the skin, the skin you knew was tanned and rugged, worn down, tired, in need of more kisses than he would let you give.
At the gentle press of your lips, that’s when Mando speaks again. It’s so hushed amongst the falling water, you almost miss it, but the few words don’t fall deaf to your ears, you hear every letter, every syllable.
“My name...” You look up to where his face would be, trying to imagine what expression he wears as he speaks to you in the dark. Your forehead not too far from his lips, you can almost feel the ghost of them on your flesh. 
“My name is Din.”
915 notes · View notes
justimajin · 3 years
Text
Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt. 1
➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader 
➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut 
↳ (3.7k), Arranged Marriage AU
➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread. 
➟ Warnings: This series will involve themes of graphic violence, depictions of blood, major character death and hints of trauma. 18+ rating. Reader discretion is highly advised. 
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gif credit. 
➟ Next Update: Tuesday, December 22 
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Love is a strange thing. 
It pulls individuals together, sparking fireworks and blissful rays of euphoria within seconds. It renders people affectionate, words dripped with honey and caresses full of tenderness transcending  without a means of stopping. To be frank, it’s majestic through the eyes of the beholder. 
But love is indeed a strange thing. 
It’s history has been plagued with moments of weakness and hesitation, moments that rip away layers to reveal raw, vulnerable selves from every individual. It’s inability to forget and move on clutches onto the minds of those that chose to associate with it, invading their memories and never granting them a single second to run free. Love is a strange thing, but it’s most putrid use has always been the necessity to use it like a tool. 
A deep breath escapes your tinted red lips, cold hands clutching onto the delicate bouquet that’s been thrust into them. The petal pink and lilac purple flowers rest against the chaste white of your dress, the awaited arrival of yours long passed as you raise your head and sneak a peek at the person standing in front of you behind your veil. 
Clad in a special tailored suit for the occasion, his dark brown hair has been brushed back and neatly tucked into the corners of his hair. He stands tall and confident, seemingly captivated by the words the priest mumbles through as he drags on through every dull phase written in his book. As if he can tell your eyes are on him, he suddenly looks in your direction and you return your gaze back to the ground, clutching onto the array of petals in your hands. 
The priest goes on to dutifully declare the responsibilities you must carry, including the very ones that tie you to each other. 
For better, for worse. Rich, poor. Sickness, health. 
Love. Cherish. 
“Until death do you part?” The priest peers up with fatigued eyes, glancing in between you. You suck in a shaky breath, eyes fixating on everything except for the man standing on the opposing side.  
“I-I do.” You hastily mutter, swallowing the lump stuck in your throat. Patiently waiting for his answer, you try not to focus on the collection of eyes gawking at you from the altar. 
“I do.” He states, firm and resolute with his answer. It shakes you to your core, eyes immediately flickering up to meet his warm ones. 
You’re perplexed for a moment, but you’re not given time to dwell any longer once the priest shuts his book, content with your answers. Relief floods you in an instant, yet it’s short-lived and has your stomach churning instead. 
“You may kiss the bride.” The priest steps back as if you needed room for the grandiose gesture, eagerly awaiting the showcase with the rest of the people seated in front of the altar. Nevertheless, your hands begin to quiver despite your best wishes and you remain planted in place. 
Before you even know it, the delicate veil resting against your forehead is being pulled up and tucked away, projecting your dolled up features on full display. You can only fidget when he draws near, preparing for the worse until he pauses. 
Glancing up in surprise, you’re caught off guard from the lines crossing his forehead and the dismay clouding his eyes. For a second, you could have sworn that you were gazing into a mirror, an image of your combined concerns being painted right in front of you. 
You’re caught in between a daze and bewilderment when he advances again, however all you feel is a soft peck against your skin before your veil is placed back into place. Your audience seems to be at loss with the action, but once he turns around to face them in the midst of holding your hand, loud cheers and roars flood the room as congratulatory confetti bursts into the room. 
Unconsciously, your hand drifts over to your cheek with furrowed brows and you steal another glance at the man you will be bound to for eternity. 
***
The L/N Family. 
Tactical and resourceful, known for their skillful strategies and trade explorations, a business they would go on to proudly pronounce in the arms industry. Others would look to them for support and reassurance, and they would in return cohesively make protective deals that would ensure no harm. Yonghwa, their head, would go on to make a legacy out of his family name. 
The Kim Family. 
Discreet and powerful, known for their relentless determination and invokable hunger, characteristics that would eventually seep into their weapon manufacturing business. They know how and with whom to pick their fights, vigorously acquiring a steady position in the industry within a flash before everyone’s eyes. Namjung, their head, carved the Kim name into a status no one would have ever imagined. 
Trade and manufacturing, two able sides of the same coin. They seeked to forge an union that would unite their two sectors, to create a harmonious flow of success within their collective industries. 
But not all deals, go as planned. 
On the fateful day, Yonghwa was found on the ground in a pool of his own blood while Namjung was left visibly shaken. Catastrophe seemed to only follow the event there on after, with both families seeking revenge on the other. Their union seemed to be the last thing on either mind, but after the years passed and stained relations had been fully dragged out, there only seemed to be one solution that could bring peace to the two of them. 
*** 
The wheels of the large suitcase hit the polished ground. 
It’s lavish and grand, crystals littering the high held ceiling and lilies spread over the handles of the spiraling staircase. It ends right at the large chandelier, with more crystals dangling down opposite the shining marble that your slippers find purchase in. 
You remain in place, staring with wide eyes and an agape jaw the scenery before you. 
“Please,” A girl bows before you, dressed in a simple pale blouse and skirt that’s paired with an apron. There’s a small twinkle in her pleasant eyes paired with natural pouting lips; the delicate features drawing out the sheer youth the girl embodies. “Follow me.” 
You snap out of your daze once she advances forward, her hands careful weaving through yours to clutch onto your packed luggage. At first, you’re a bit unsure as to if you should let her carry the heavy load up the stairs, but you’re pleasantly surprised when she manages to hall it all the way up.
She roughly pushes herself against a large wooden door, revealing the grand room behind it. It’s decorated similarly to the main portion of the house, however the sheer size of it has your jaw dropping again, eyebrows furrowed as its appearance. 
Your suspicions are confirmed right away, “This will be your room, Miss Y/N.” 
“I-I…” You can’t help but hesitate, “Are you sure?”
She nods, placing your luggage now. “Of course, Master Kim asked us to prepare it for you.” 
You instinctively flinch at the sudden mention of your husband, but the girl tilts her head to the side, curiosity peeking through her. 
“Don’t they have such rooms in the L/N residence?” Her eyes suddenly widen, and she slaps a hand against her mouth, “Oh no, I-I didn’t mean it that way!” 
A smile curls on the corners of your lips, “What’s your name?” 
She gazes at you with surprise, like she had been expecting a scolding fit for her lifetime. Nonetheless, she hastily answers your question with a bow. 
“I am Eunjoo, one of Master Kim’s most faithful servants.” 
“Little flower.” You decipher, “Sounds like a fitting name.” 
“It could have been summer’s grace.” Eunjoo offers with a shrug, “Though I don’t really like summer, so I’ve tried my best to ignore that meaning.” 
You let out a genuine chuckle from that, something that has Eunjoo instantly beam. The news of her own Master getting married to someone from the L/N family was initially difficult for her to digest, but it appears that she was too early to judge. 
A lopped smile etching onto your features, “And to answer your previous question, unfortunately the L/N’s don’t have such a residence. We’ve lost much of our wealth after‒…” You pause, biting back your words, “...after, you know.” 
You wave your hand away in the air and Eunjoo understandably nods, no need to delve into the long-lived history of your families that is known to all. She hurriedly aids in you in unpacking much to your reassured protests, following and assisting you around like a little fairy. Her company ends up being both interesting and comfortable, especially since the two of you discovered the other wasn’t well in adapting the titles you carry. 
A knock resounds against the door, drawing out your attention. Immediately Eunjoo drops the clothes in her hands, right before she straightens up and takes a graceful bow. 
Her reaction is telling of who's at the door, so with pinched lips and a creased forehead, you turn around. 
He remains glued to the door frame, still adorned in his tailored black suit. Aside from the similarity in his put together appearance though, his shoulders are no longer hiked up in a noble stance, nor is there any remaining amount of warmth spreading through his eyes. Instead, he appears akin to how he was in the split-second before your ultimate union was official, the memory causing the skin of your cheek to slightly burn. 
Swaying from side to side, he hesitates to step into the room. 
“I see you’ve met Eunjoo.” He mentions. On cue, the servant straightens up, a huge smile on her lips. 
“I was just helping Miss Y/N unpack!” 
“Oh that’s nice, perhaps I can assist to‒” He isn’t able to finish his sentence, because the next thing you know you jolt at the sound of a loud crash that echoes through the room. 
“Master Kim!” Eunjoo immediately rushes forward, scurrying to help the fallen man. He instantly rises up to his feet and dusts off his suit jacket, but remains of glass are scattered all over the ground. 
He lets out a groan and Eunjoo sighs, “Master, you know you have to be careful.” She begins to quickly pluck up the shards of the vase, raising one up to eye level with a pout, “I especially picked this one out for your newly wedded wife.” 
At the mention of you, Namjoon instantly glances up, pupils shaking. “I-I can get you a new one soon, it might take around a week but if I put in a request now‒” He scrambles around for a moment, before checking the inner pockets of his jacket for something to write on in a haste. 
Unconsciously, a small smile cracks through the seam of your lips, increasing as he tries to intervene with Eunjoo to pick the shards, and she protests that he shouldn’t get his hands soiled with her errands. He eventually has to sheepishly stand to the side, staring at her defeated like a child that had just gotten scolded for misbehaving. 
Eunjoo eventually collects all the pieces and ushers herself out, reminding you of the pending family dinner you’ll need to attend in the evening. She leaves the room and you decide to resume unpacking, until you come across the realization that you’re not alone. 
“Do you need help?” He peers at your suitcase behind you, “I’m usually more capable with things that aren’t easy to break.” 
The abrupt proximity catches you by surprise, but you merely shake your head at his kind offer, “I should be fine, thank you.” 
He nods and you assume he’ll excuse himself after a moment, but he lingers and that’s when you crane your head over at him. 
Appearing to be in between a deep ponder, he snaps back into reality once your questioning eyes fall onto him. “Uh I‒” A lengthy sigh leaves his lips, “I know this is strange.”
You wonder what he's referring to until you notice him gesturing to the gap between you, “It’s strange for me, and it’s strange for you. We didn’t really have a choice in the matter.” 
He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, a deep crease forming between his brows. You’re frozen in place, at a complete loss for words. 
He suddenly sucks in a breath, looking up to gaze into your eyes, “But I’d like to get to know you better….a-as my future wife.” 
Your eyes round and his declaration only receives dead silence in its awake. Flabbergasted, he attempts to correct himself amidst your prolonged response. 
“T-That doesn’t mean right away! We can take our time and I’m not expecting anything from you, so you don’t need to worry and‒” 
“I’d like that.” 
He freezes, “Wait, really?” 
You hum, a corner of your mouth lifting, “You’re right, it’s strange. But I’d like to get to know my husband better as well.” 
His eyes immediately sparkle, like you’ve said the very words he’s been aching to hear, “That’s great!” A breathtaking smile overtakes his features, “I guess I’ll see you at dinner then?” 
You nod with a smile,  and he departs, the euphoria never once leaving his lips. 
***
Evening draws near and long gone is the dilatory white piece of garment that’s forever confined you to your fate. Instead, it’s replaced with a delicate fabric of rose gold, perhaps to represent the luxury you have of being present in such a place or in the new beginnings that will soon follow you. 
Regardless, you prepare yourself. Although you’re simply arriving to dinner, there’s a family waiting at the table that you don’t know of yet. 
Eunjoo brings you down with her after putting your hair up and presenting a pair of matching heels your way. You’re wary as you walk down the spiraling staircase, barely balancing yourself on the elevated shoes. Luckily, Eunjoo notices and helps you down, but the split moment of relief is met with a jolt of surprise when you notice someone waiting at the bottom.
“I’ll take it from here, Eunjoo.” The women amiably bids. Eunjoo swiftly bows, mumbling something along the lines of Mistress Kim, before heading into the dinner room. 
You immediately whirl around, eyes on alert like a deer in headlights. She mirthfully smiles at you, carrying a warm tone in her eyes that feels familiar. 
“You don’t have to look so worried,” She reprimands, “I’m not going to bite your head off.” 
Your eyes widen even more, “I-I’m sorry?” 
She bursts out into laughter, concealing her ruby red lips with a hand that is glittering in assorted jewels. 
“Nothing, dear. I’m just teasing you.” You nervously laugh at that, and she places a hand against your back, guiding you forward. “Come, I’m eager to know what my son’s wife is like.” 
Politely nodding, you follow behind her and nearly freeze. If you had expected your bedroom to be astonishing, then you weren’t prepared for the enormous buffet that waits for you ahead. 
Pieces of food are scattered all over the decorated table, ranging from freshly cooked to foods you would have never imagined yourself eating. It reminds you of times your family could barely manage to have a decent meal for one night, lost scavenging for food that wouldn’t make your empty pockets hurt. 
You’re so lost in the thought that you don’t feel someone brush by you. There’s suddenly a warm hand planting onto your shoulder, drawing your attention with a smile full of dimples. 
“Do you want to sit down first?” He gestures to the table, where his mother sits next to his father and opposite to his sister. Embarrassed that you’ve been just gawking at the table, you hurriedly take a seat and so does Namjoon. 
Even though you’re only just sitting at the table, it seems like all eyes are on you, burning into your skin and tracing every move. The impending silence eventually does crack though, and it’s done by a person you would have least expected. 
“Is that chicken?” Namjoon’s father blurts out, his eyes following a tray one of the servants brings by. His wife immediately interjects, dismayed by his reaction. 
“Indeed,” She points a demanding finger at him, “But none for you, there’s a reason why your health hasn’t been the greatest as of lately.” 
He pouts at her response, longley staring at the dish once it arrives. The childlike display catches you a bit off guard, eyebrows raised. 
“That’s unreasonable though.” He suddenly looks in your direction, “What do you think, Y/N? Isn’t she being unreasonable?” 
The abrupt inquiry leaves you speechless, no coherent words manifesting at the tip of your tongue. His wife whirls around, cocking up a brow in his direction. 
“Why are you dragging her into this?” She faces you with a smile, “Y/N is the newest addition to our family so we should make her feel welcome, not bring her into such trivial matters.” 
The pleasant response astonishes you, but more so the mention of your inclusion. He lets out a sigh, acknowledging his wife’s sentiments. 
“You’re right.” He turns to you, “Y/N, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” 
His mother hums, “I’d like to hear about where you grew up, Y/N.” 
“Oh, it’s nothing really special,” You grow bashful, “I was raised in the outskirts of the country by my parents.” 
The two of them nod, intently listening to you, “Before coming here, I studied in the imperial academy for a while.” 
“Ah, involved in the industry I see.” He praises, “You must know a lot about how our businesses are conducted, right?” 
“Not quite.” There’s a strained smile on your lips, “I didn’t want to actively participate in it.” 
Although your answer seems to have taken both of them by surprise, his wife hums in approval. “So I’m assuming that was your personal choice?” 
When you nod, a giant smile stretches onto her lips, and she elbows her husband, “A gutsy one, don’t you think?” 
He smiles in retaliation, “Just like you.” 
She blushes at his sudden compliment, but a voice from afar breaks the two out of their daze. 
“Gross - we’re eating here.” 
Appalled at the feminine voice, you notice the young girl seated across from Namjoon, a deep frown etched onto her stern features. 
“Leave them be, Geongmin.” Namjoon coaxes his sister, but she lets out a grunt of disapproval in the midst of eating soup.
The corners of his mother’s lips turn up and his father faces you again, looking as if he had a million questions up his sleeve lined up just for you. 
Much to your surprise, the rest of the evening is spent exchanging pleasantries with them and keeping conversation light. There even comes a moment when both you and Namjoon end up reaching out for the bread basket, only to pull away once you discover your hands had ended up meeting halfway. As you grow bashful, you notice his mother smiling tenderly and his father chuckling at the abrupt affiliation. 
Once the evening begins to come to an end, you excuse yourself through the use of your own fatigue and request to head to bed first. They waste no time in understanding, with Namjoon’s father even wrapping a hand around his son and expressing that he needed to discuss some things with him anyway. 
You leave the room as he heads off with his family, granting you with some much-needed time and space. 
***
Treading back, you pause at the large wooden door that leads into your room. Your eyes briefly skim over the fine carvings on the wood, instead choosing to scrutinize the direction of your right and left side. A shadow casts over your pupils and your hand presses against the door, letting it slowly creak wide open. 
Step by step, you stroll inside and let the light fade out, replacing itself with only darkness. 
The moment the source of luminescence disappears, you move within a flash. The handle is locked, tugged at for a confirmation. There’s a speck of radiance coming from the small lamp you’ve turned on, enough to see the large suitcase you’ve brought get yanked out. 
Zippers are flying and the cover is ripped off. Clothes are frantically thrown astray, dumped into a careless heep without much of a second look. Your hands are weaving through the material and running rampant, eyes flickering with something akin to desire and alloyed with increasing unease. 
Once your hands meet with metal, a twinkle emerges within your orbs. The spindle of ore is unwound; detangling the material in a quickened manner. It looks distinctly similar to what one would use for electrical purposes, set with the intention of providing light in grim areas. 
Right. The intention. 
Unraveled, you cautiously drift over to the large window by the bedside and crank it open. Peering outside, there’s no glimmer or streak of luminescence meeting your eyes, only a dark, simple gray sky. 
Unconsciously a breath of relief leaves your lips and you reach out, reclining your body just enough to reach above and then below the window’s hilt. The instrument effortlessly blends in, appearing like a simple cable that’s been tightly strung around. 
You lean back and rummage through the luggage on the ground, pulling out a small plastic box that doesn’t appear to be much, but more or less, is the sole thing you couldn’t have departed without. With a small hinged click, it connects to the thin barbed string you just unraveled and right when a quiet buzz resonates through, does a smile tugs on the corner of your lips. 
A knock resonates through the box. Followed by another, and then another. It’s succeeded with a prolonged silence on your part, your entire body remaining in a frozen state. 
Static echoes and you let out the air you didn’t realize you were holding from your lungs. 
Within seconds, you are nimbly knocking against the box in repetitive notions. Your actions range from different types of knocks; heavy, light, twice the sound. 
More static echoes and your eyes immediately widen, hands balling up into tighter fists. 
A heavier one. 
“I have….” 
Lighter. 
“...successfully infiltrated….” 
One last firm knock. 
“....the enemy household.”
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thunderheadfred · 3 years
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🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚
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Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2
The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails
I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.
This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.
- - - - -
You met Tenko before the League existed.
Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.
You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.
(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)
(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)
He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.
You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.
- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.
You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.
Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.
It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.
When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.
Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.
You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.
But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.
And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.
You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.
You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.
Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.
This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.
He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.
You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.
All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.
When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.
Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.
No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.
Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...
No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.
So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.
It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?
You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.
---
You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.
It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.
He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.
I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.
It's okay, Tenko.
You know he doesn't want to.
- - - - - (oops I wrote more)
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plan-d-to-i · 2 years
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How did lxc react to listening about how the he clan was annihilated with the children and elders killed?
Well, he's a righteous, kind person who was the only one amongst the rich and powerful Clan leaders to not carry a wholesale grudge against the Wens and the only one who tried to speak up for WQ even though he owed her & WN nothing & the Wens had burned down his home and killed his father. He wasn't at the siege. I'm not sure when the Wen Remnants were thrown into the blood pool and how much the Lan Clan ultimately knew about what went down, but if we go by his characterization throughout the book it's logical he'd be unhappy to hear suffering and death befell innocent people esp if his own Clan was involved.
During the siege in Luanzang Hill, aside from Jiang Cheng, Jin GuangShan was the second-greatest contributor. (Chapter 7)
Back then, during the first siege of Burial Mound, Jin GuangShan led the LanlingJin Sect, while Jiang Cheng led the YunmengJiang Sect; Lan QiRen led the GusuLan Sect, while Nie MingJue led the QingheNie Sect. The former two were the main forces, the latter two could’ve gone without. Now, the LanlingJin Sect’s leader hadn’t arrived at, having only sent people for the GusuLan Sect to command; the GusuLan Sect was still led by Lan QiRen; Nie HuaiSang replaced his brother’s position, shrunken within the crowd, his face still full of ‘I don’t know about anything’, ‘I don’t want to do anything’, and ‘I’m just here for the numbers’.
Only Jiang Cheng was still the one surrounded by hostile energy, face insidious, staring straight at him. (Chapter 68)
If it's about the Clan JGY took his "revenge" against he'll probably also feel sorrow for them esp as he makes those connections between all the messed up things JGY did. A lot there to process. Ofc he probably won't know the extent of it or that he had Xue Yang doing human experiments on them...Notice no one really dwells on the thought that JGY tore down the Clan if it was in revenge for his son:
Lan WangJi, “Jin GuangYao once had a son. His life was taken at a young age.”
Wei WuXian wondered, “He was the young master of Carp Tower, though. How could his life have been taken away?”
Lan WangJi, “The lookout towers.”
Wei WuXian, “And why was that?”
Back then, in order to build the lookout towers, Jin GuangYao not only faced quite a number of opposers, but also displeased a handful of sects. One of the opposing sect’s leaders lost the arguments, and went into a murderous rage, killing Jin GuangYao and Qin Su’s only son. The boy had always been a good child and he couple had always loved him dearly. Under resentment, Jin GuangYao tore down the entire sect in revenge. Qin Su, however, was overcome with grief. She hadn’t been able to bear another child ever since.
After a while of silence, he replied, “With Jin Ling’s temper, he offends other people whenever he opens his mouth, he pokes at the hornet’s nest whenever he raises his hand. Your sect’s JingYi calls him Young Mistress—well, he’s right. The many times before this, if it weren’t for how we protected him, he’d have no lives left.
Now, not that I don't find your pointed question interesting, but if you have beef w LXC this account probs won't give you a lot of satisfaction. I also see ppl who fixate on the "mistake" part of his whole talk to WWX at the Guanyin as getting pressed for themselves and not on behalf of WWX who clearly pays it zero mind bc he understands where it's coming from. Obviously LWJ's big brother would feel a certain way about LWJ getting whipped 33 times w a discipline whip for deciding to support someone who appeared to have lost his way and who didn't seem to care about him, or appreciate his sacrifice and loyalty at all. It's clear once the misunderstanding is resolved, both between LWJ and WWX (thanks in large part to LXC), and between LXC and WWX there's no issue there.
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sopxhiea · 3 years
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Moirai
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Alfie Solomons X Reader
Summary: Alfie comes over for dinner with the purpose of gaining the infamous uncle’s trust but he has other ideas in mind and they all concern the pretty niece. 
Warnings: Age gap.
The italic text is in a foreign language.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
"You taste like chocolate."
The jew.
That’s all that can be heard  for the next couple of days. 
What does he eat? What would he like to drink? Will he come on time? Who’s he bringing? What does he look like?
The weather is chilly, a thin layer of snow graces the trees around. The horses are in their place, warm and content after a day’s ride. There’s not much that can be heard on the outside of the mansion, just the sound of lively chatter from the inside as the maids hurry to get the cake ready.
The air in the balcony is cold, given it’s the dead of december. The weather has been nice enough for too long, you gather as you watch a set of birds fly around each other and they soon disappear behind the large tree trunks. The sun sets slowly on the horizon, the orange hue soon disappearing as you realise your hands are red.
He’s coming today.
There’s a group of middle aged men in the house, most of whom are business associates from the past. They’re too old to work now, retired and an empire left behind of the crumbs they used to work off of. They’re all dressed in a similar manner, a simple lines suit and a fitting hat made of similar fabric. Their shoes shine as they walk around the grand gallery.
The gallery decorated with your work.
It’s a dangerous game, the most thrilling one you’ve played so far. The ends of your silk dress dance with the cold wind and you hug your cardigan tighter, the inside noise is too much to bear so you find yourself in the balcony of your study. 
Six days.
The motions of it are a bit delayed but the so called London gangster is dancing on the red ropes you’ve provided him. He plays the game exceptionally well, leaving no trace behind and the flour on his shoe soles are always cleaned. His rings burn when they meet your skin but it hasn’t been that many times, you gather.
You hadn’t slept with him still.
Keeping him on his toes was the little bit of thrill you had needed. He didn’t tire, unlike the many lads you’d been out with before. He came back for more but he knew the borders you’d set for the time being. There was no questioning from his end, just the frantic nod of his head before he attacked your lips.
And then, your uncle had invited him over for dinner.
That meant trust, that Alfie was now a part of an important bond your uncle was keen on forming. He didn’t just have dinner with anyone, not in his own house. He had done it with another partner before and now, you got christmas gifts and jewels as gifts from him every now and then. It meant that Alfie was now trusted.
Although you had your doubts.
The maid called your name, her steel like voice cutting through the long corridors. You hadn’t seen a car pull up but it was only a portion of the front area that could be seen from the balcony you were standing on. You hugged the cardigan tighter before exiting the glass decorated space.
The dress you had on had a small cleavage, buttons all the way down to the bottom of the dress. The lilac color fit the golden decoration around, or so you thought as you made your way down the stairs in a cheery manner. You were only allowed to be respectful to the guests but a little fun would hurt no one.
Shooting smiles to the familiar faces of the maids, you eyed the chocolate cake on one of the trays and reached for the icing, it was the best part of it all. Before you could reach for it, though, Magda, the older woman slapped your hand away with a low smile.
“No! No tasting the icing this time.” she scolded in a motherly manner and you made a disappointed face which soon disappeared, you knew she’d give you the biggest slice when the time came for it.
You didn’t realise Alfie had arrived, standing on the large entry hall you were stood in.
Facing the handsome lad, you pulled your bottom lip inside. His eyes were glistening, beard illuminated with the last specks of sun seeping through the front doors. The breeze hadn’t made it inside but his coat would protect him from anything, you reckoned.
He was wearing a suit, a similar one to the one you’d seen him wear the first time he came around. Hair slicked back, the scruff on his face in a neater cut as he looked at you with his hat on his hands. There was no cane this time, he had been feeling better.
Your uncle was somewhere inside the mansion, you didn’t even know where but it didn’t matter. Not now, anyway. You offered him a gentle smile but he was busy, too busy to even greet you at first as his eyes took in the sight of you, hair messy and a few buttons from your top undone which gave him a generous look at the valley of your breasts.
Quickly gathering yourself and covering the undone buttons with the sweep of your hand, you fluttered your eyelashes and spoke.
“’Ello, luv.” he spoke with a low voice, the one that made shivers run up your spine but you didn’t show them to him.
A sweet nod was all he got from you before your uncle showed up, greeting the gangster and inviting him to the dinner table. It was going to be challenge, you gathered that much. 
Everyone slowly gathered around the table: Alfie, you, your uncle and a friend of his. They all seemed to know each other, you observed soon enough and you sat down in front of Alfie in the large dining room, his eyes throwing stolen glances at you as your uncle spoke about business and all that.
As much as he tried to keep you away from it, you already knew a good amount.
The appetiser was served shortly after and Alfie watched you behave like a good girl would. He knew from that one time you ate in his office, in a rush, that you didn’t like to observe any of the manners your uncle had taught you. It was easier to eat the way you felt comfortable but he found his eyes to be fixated on the way your hands worked effortlessly around the dishes.
He soon realised that he, one way or another, had to stop staring at you and join the conversation. You saw the way he gulped before cracking a joke about the Sabini to your uncle, everyone seemingly enjoying the joke. You kept your eyes on your table, afraid your uncle would catch onto something, although he was clueless. 
A gasp left your lips when the cake was served, a small one that didn’t even make it into your uncle’s side of the table as he conversed with the friend he brought. Alfie caught the small sound and smirked, a low sound of rumblings heard soon after.
“Fuckin’ heard that one before.” he spoke, talking about the countless times you’d made out in the span of a week and the sounds you’d made each time he’d shift his body under yours. 
You eyed your uncle first, clueless. Your eyes landed on Alfie’s smirk afterwards, a wink followed before he started eating the cake. The heat rose on your cheeks but you stopped yourself from making any noise, giggles stifled as he looked at your delicate features. 
You ate the cake in silence, a few stifled moans here and there and it was soon enough when Alfie commented.
“Why the fuck is yours the biggest slice ‘ere, pet?” he said, low enough that the last part was not so audible.
You chuckled, watching his eyes hungrily look at your lips as you licked the chocolate off of them with your tongue. His ears were going red, slowly but surely and you wondered if he’d excuse himself or just have you somewhere in this mansion.
“I get special treatment.” you spoke after his stares returned to your eyes from your lips.
“That, you fuckin’ do.” he spoke, nodding before eating the last part of the cake he had left. You still had a large portion of yours on the plate since it was impossibly big. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t eat the cake, it would just take you a bit longer to finish it. 
He eyed the cake first and then you, his gaze shifting every few seconds but it landed on you at last.
You smiled at him, the plan of enticing the man was clearly working. You cleared your throat and cleaned around your mouth before standing up and getting all the attention all of a sudden.
“Excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.” you offered your sweetest smile and two older men kept on talking after nodding at your small form. Alfie had been watching, planning on getting you alone somewhere.
You had been torturing the man the whole time. Small moans only he could hear while eating the cake, the few buttons on your top hanging loose and the way you’d lick your lips afterwards. He cursed at himself before standing up, asking about the whereabouts of the bathroom to wash his hands.
He had no plans to visit the bathroom. 
You felt his hands before you could see him. 
The corridor you’d made your way into was a small one, right after the large entry and it led to your study. You needed a breath of fresh air without anyone disturbing, his eyes had made your rationality disappear in the blink of an eye and you hated him for it but this was to time to dwell on things like that, not when your uncle was close.
A small giggle left your lips when his hands grabbed your waist and made you turn around in a swift motion, right when you were in front of the door of your study. You met a pair of amused orbs as he looked down at your small form, chest heaving with anticipation.
“What excuse did you have for leaving uncle?” you spoke, lips almost touching his and you were whispering into his face. You saw his eyelashes flutter as he held you tight, your feet were no longer touching the floor.
“He ain’t even listenin’, luv, too busy fuckin’ discussin’ shit with the other bloke.” he spoke against your lips and before you could muster up an answer, his lips were on yours.
His plump lips melted into yours, fighting for dominance but you were the loser in this case, Alfie had always been the dominant one. You felt his hand grab you even tighter before he lifted you up and your legs wrapped around his middle, he turned the door’s handle in the process and entered your study.
A small moan left your lips and he hungrily swallowed the sound, your chest vibrating against his as your hands desperately tugged at his hair. This wouldn’t be the day you’d sleep with the gangster, but you figured you’d get close.
Alfie’s kisses were more desperate than usual, a sense of urgency was evident when his tongue clashed with yours and all you could do was to moan into his mouth. His hands rested on your waist and bum, caressing and squeezing as his small groans filled the air.
You broke the kiss, you had to. Breathing in slowly, you couldn’t help but marvel at how deep this man kissed. He was still staring at your lips as you tried to regain your breath, back against the wall of your study.
“Will you put me down?” you spoke, his eyes still on your lips as you tasted him on the flesh, your tongue glossing over it. 
He slowly let you down, your feet finally touching the floor and no longer wrapped up around his broad body. You didn’t look disheveled but something in your eyes had changed, anyone could see that. Hunger now resided in them but you wouldn’t give in so easily, you wanted him to wait.
Your eyes met his across the room while you lowered yourself on the sofa. His hair was messy, breath uneven and the sleeves of shirt rolled. He was a sight for sore eyes but you wouldn’t tell him that. A smile appeared on your lips as you spoke.
“They’ll come looking for us, you know.” you said, chest still rising unevenly after the relentless kiss he’d given you.
“We’ll just make somethin’ up then, aye?” he asked but it wasn’t much of a question. He knew you were used to making up excuses at the spot due to the nature of your uncle’s business and your night life.
You nodded and he approached you like a hunter would approach its prey. You felt your insides tingle but you couldn’t do anything, your uncle was three doors away and he would come looking for you if you didn’t return soon enough.
“No.” you said, knowing why he was approaching you the way he was but before you could push his broad shoulders away from you, he pulled you flush against him on the sofa until you were straddling him and he was planting kisses on your collarbones.
You let him do this thing for a while, his kisses slowly became sloppy as you kept on letting small moans go free. His lips found yours soon enough, he tasted all power and musk, and the chocolate care from earlier.
A giggle left your lips at the thought and he stopped kissing you, confused eyes locking into yours.
“What?” he asked, voice a little hushed even though you knew your uncle would be in the room soon, he didn’t like it when you would disappear.
“You taste like chocolate.” you spoke against his lips before pecking them. It was something you could get used to.
“That why you keep fuckin’ kissin’ me?” he spoke against your lips as you nodded slowly. You needed to get off of him and out of the room.
And so you did.
It took all your willpower but you lifted yourself off of him and smoothed your dress down as he watched you, hair disheveled and breath uneven and he thought this was the most beautiful he’d seen you look. You gulped before speaking, his blue orbs bored into yours.
“We need to go back.” you spoke, huffing and clearly annoyed.
“I don’t see a problem, luv, yeah if anythin’, I much-”
You cut him off, you would be the one who’d have to pay for this when he was gone and your uncle was shouting at you for keeping your company away from the guest, he wouldn’t know you were about to fuck the guest. “Alfie, he asked you to come to dinner because he trusts you, not so that you could fuck his only niece.”
He nodded once, got up and nodded again and tugged at his beard. You looked at him through annoyed eyes, eyes that would soon soften because he wasn’t a prick, unlike what many thought.
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and nodded once more. You shot him a grateful smile but it all came down crumbling when you heard your uncle’s footsteps behind the door to your study. He was mumbling and grumbling.
But you had the perfect lie.
“Suit yourself.” Alfie spoke, hearing him right outside the door.
“You owe me one.” you spoke through your teeth to Alfie before the door was open in a fast motion, your angry uncle outside the door.
Alfie shoots your uncle a knowing smirk and he doesn’t say anything for a while, just stands there and tries to put two and two together. You’d fixed your own appearance and then Alfie’s before he’d come barging in so he doesn’t see any lipstick stains around his beard or your heaving chest as you stand far away from the jewish gangster.
“Hello, uncle.” you speak, Alfie’s eyes glisten as you speak in a language he doesn’t quite understand. He thinks it fits you, the real you.
“What’re you doing here? And with hi-” your uncle starts speaking but you’re fast, years of living under his roof has taught you a trick or two.
“I was showing Mr. Solomons some of the pieces I was working on..” you speak in English this time and Alfie nods, looking at the unfinished canvases on the corner. Before your uncle can protest further, you start speaking again.
“He had seen some of the finished ones during the party when he first came around so I figured he’d have some comments.” you trail off and Alfie marvels at your ability to make such things up, it also stings him in a way he doesn’t quite understand.
“I see.” your uncle speaks at last, eyes landing on you and then Alfie. You shoot him a sweet smile, and he’s convinced.
Poor man, you think.
Your uncle isn’t stupid, you know that. He wouldn’t be where he was if he was as daft as he seemed right now. The man just trusts you, blindly and completely. You feel a sense of security knowing the fact but also something along the lines of pity knowing just how many times you’d told him you were visiting a friend and ended up piss drunk in a bar with a lad.
It’s a thin line you walk on most times but it’s fun with Alfie, you admit.
Your uncle hurriedly makes his way towards the tea room then, his other guest waiting with a smile. No one was upset much to your luck and you noted the way Alfie’s hand touched the small of your back whenever your uncle wasn’t really looking. He wanted trouble but you couldn’t give him that, not in where you were.
But you’d make him pay for it.
You behaved for the rest of the time the guests were near. You drank your tea quietly and ignored the way Alfie’s eyes searched for yours. You laughed at the other guest’s jokes even though they weren’t funny and fixed your dress whenever the fabric tried to cling onto your upper thighs.
Alfie watched all along.
Then the time came for you to bid farewell, which you did with a sweet smile and ignored the way Alfie’s lips twitched at the end. He wanted to kiss you goodbye like he had the last time he had seen you but your uncle was near and the risk was higher than you both were willing to take.
You closed the door after the farewell, not bothering to say anything to your uncle but there was a knock on the front door right after you’d closed it. Everyone else was gone now, your uncle to his office and the maids to the kitchen and the dining room to clean up. It was just you.
You opened it slowly and saw Alfie. A scoff left your lips and you pushed the door back to its place, trying to close it but he was quicker when he put the head of his shoe in between the door and the wall and you could no longer close it.
You could never be too safe. Not in this house.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Solomons?” you spoke in a low voice, you couldn’t risk being overheard by one of the maids and even if you were, you had to keep it in line.
“Let me fuckin’ have you for one, pet.” he spoke, tired of the game of waiting for the time you’d open your legs for him. He would wait regardless but you’d pushed his buttons and it was time for him to push yours.
“Damn it, Alfi-” you spoke but he was tired, he just wanted you to himself. He was amused, too, at the way you were trying to act composed when no one was near.
“I’m fuckin’ serious, pet, I’m beggin’, yeah.” he spoke, he was clearly amused at the whole exchange but you kept your smile to yourself. “You can’t just kiss the me, yeah, the way you fuckin’ did and expect me to not be all hot and bothered, right.”
You rolled your eyes at the man before speaking. “You were the one who kissed me.” your breath was soft as you spoke.
“Yeah and for the fuckin’ record, yeah, I’m the one kissing you now.”
You didn’t have time to protest when he leaned down and his lips met yours in a sweet kiss. It wasn’t rushed and needy like the one from earlier but like he was trying to tell you something. 
That he needed more but he was willing to wait as long as you would want him to. That he would come back for more, not because he only had you but because he desperately needed you and you only.
But he wouldn’t tell you that, not just yet.
You were a gangster’s niece, the one and only family he had. You did know luxury and comfort but you knew the opposite as well. He knew you were a beauty the first time he’d seen you but you were trouble as well. It wasn’t easy to jut sweep you off your feet and make you a good wife, you wouldn’t want that anyway.
He watched the way your cheeks flushed after the tender kiss and your eyes fluttered open, only to met his blue ones. Your gaze dropped to his lips, then his beard before eyeing him again, a smile on your lips he knew well.
“Goodnight, Mr. Solomons.” you sweetly whispered against his face. 
And he knew.
He knew you’d be coming around his place that very night, he didn’t know when but he knew you’d be dropping by. So he did the next best thing.
“Goodnight, you sweet minx.”
Just like that, he was off and you were on your way to your uncle’s office to tell him that your friend needed help with some emergency and that you’d be gone for the rest of the night to stay over at her place.
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Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @jjklefttoe​
a/n: I’m sorry this came in so late but I truly do hope you enjoy it and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! I have more chapters of different series coming and i’ll keep you posted!!
Merry Christmas and I hope you all have a wonderful holiday!
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jd-loves-fiction · 3 years
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➤ 【1】 𝟤 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇, 𝟥 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎
➤ Finding 1 guy seemed unthinkable as you found yourself getting lost while going to meet with your friend. So imagine your surprise when you meet 2.
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➤ pairings: suna x reader | hirugami x reader
➤ genre: college!au; fluff; angst
➤ wc: 4.7k
➤ status: ongoing
➤ 🌙 Special thanks to @offendedfishnoises​ and @glorified-red​ for all the love and help🥰🥺 and if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know ❤
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"Just follow the directions and you'll get there, don't worry." Was what your friend had told you a few days before Christmas break in order to help you find the place you were meant to meet at.
Which you had been looking for, for about 30 minutes more than what she said would be necessary.
You were lost.
And to add to the misery, your phone had no reception, meaning you had no way to figure out where you had wandered off to as the cold winter air licked at your flushed cheeks, growing more frigid by the minute as you continued to walk forward.
Days before, when you noticed you had a week off from classes due to Christmas arriving, you had quickly made plans with a friend of yours: to go out and find you a hot date. This as you were both tired of your complaining.
You had already attempted this on the last day of college at a park near it, to no avail as no one of interest had shown up (aside from some friends of yours).
This time you were meant to meet her at a cafe she was very familiar with and a bit far from your house, but she assured you that lots of your type of people hung out there and that it was easy to get to.
The second part was either a lie or your mental map was just that bad.
Despite the fact that the sun should still be high in the sky - were it not being hidden by gloomy clouds - by the mid-afternoon hour, the temperature was nearly unbearable, the icy cold swiftly getting under your clothes and chilling you to the bone as you contemplated calling your friend and explaining your predicament to her.
You looked around the street you found yourself in the middle of, checking for some place where you could protect yourself from the unforgiving winter air as you attempted to message your friend without having your fingers fall off.
You spotted a small cafe in between a drugstore and a shoe store, with a large glass front that allowed you to see all the wooden tables inside, behind a pub table settled against the window, where potted plants sat.
The soft, golden light shining on the plants created an invitation, hard to ignore. Pushing open the door, the low hum of friendly chatter followed by the deep aroma of coffee met your nose and the sight of various homemade pastries warmed you instantly as you rubbed your hands together.
The space was scarcely crowded, expected from the side of town you assumed to have wandered into, but the atmosphere seemed warm and just full enough that it felt lively but not overwhelming.
You ordered your chosen beverage and sat at a table near the wall with it as you inspected the shop. Most of its occupants were teenagers and young adults, either chatting amongst themselves or typing away on their laptops while sipping coffee or eating various kinds of delicious looking pastries.
The walls were a light beige, contrasting with the dark furniture and a large wall with a painting of two birds atop a tree branch caught your eye, until you remembered what you had gone there to do: check-in with your friend and figure out where you were.
You took out your phone while looking at the sign on the wall with the WiFi password and waiting for it to connect as you looked around once more.
Your eyes skimmed over mostly natural or brightly colored hair, floating over simple waves and more intricate hairdos just before your eyes drifted down and caught a pair of big, brown ones who seemed to study you with a sweet sort of intensity, almost as if in awe. That made you blush, and not from the cold this time. Just before you looked away and tried to find something to keep you busy as your phone lay somewhat forgotten by your arm, facedown on the table.
The image of the handsome man whom you'd locked gazes with remained at the forefront of your mind as you took out your most recent fixation, a book of theories about soulmates, to avoid looking anymore out of place and awkward. He might've been smiling, or it could've just been your hopeful imagination. You decided not to dwell on it lest you fool yourself with hopelessly romantic deceptions.
You had come out to find a date. But not without your friend's help!
That would certainly end in disaster.
The words before you sucked you in, capturing your attention enough that your previous worries were all but an itch in the back of your mind as your cheeks finally cooled.
A notification reaching your phone broke your focus, making you pick it up to see a message from your friend, from about 10 minutes prior, saying that she couldn't make it due to a family emergency.
Well, at least you didn't leave her hanging.
Sighing, you placed your phone in your pocket, taking another sip of your drink and returning to your book.
Just before a shadow settled over you.
"Do you believe in them?" A voice asked, calm and smooth, from in front of you, to where you directed your eyes.
You looked to where you expected to see the man's face, only to be met with his broad chest, clad in a baby blue hoodie, before you looked up and up, and up and up...
God, he's tall.
As your eyes met his light brown ones - the ones from before which had examined you closely, you noted - he smiled, sweet and charming, inviting but not pushy as he waited for your answer.
"I--," You cleared your throat as you felt your voice begin to crack, almost sure you saw his eyes flicker with delight. You nodded before attempting to speak again. "Just not in such a… clear-cut way, I guess." You spoke shyly as his brows raised in interest, motioning towards the chair in front of you, to which you nodded, making him sit.
"I'm Hirugami Sachirō, by the way." He said, still with a smile, nodding as you told him yours. "Please do continue." He tilted his head cutely as he gazed at you, expectant as you thought extra hard about what answer to give the man you were currently trying to impress, making his short wavy, fluffy-looking hair move slightly over his forehead.
"Well, I believe everyone has someone that they're destined to be with, someone who just fits. But I don't think everyone is meant to find them, for starters." You explained, focusing on your words instead of on the blush growing brighter as you went on.
"As in, they don't deserve it?" Hirugami inquired, leaning forward as he rested his cheek on his hand. Cute.
"No, I mean, maybe they're from some other time period or a place they could never travel to. I feel like sometimes the world itself just makes it difficult."
"Makes sense." He said, nodding with a thoughtful pout and chuckling lowly as you refused to meet his interested gaze. "Which part are you at?" He motioned to the still open book with his chin.
"Oh! This chapter is about the possibility of having more than one soulmate. Which I think is somewhat neat. What do you think?"
His eyes widened slightly at being directed a question, before humming reflectively for a moment before speaking, "That sounds unfair, doesn't it? I feel like you had to have been a really good person in your last life to get that."
"You're trying to bring karma into this? It's already complex enough as it is." You chuckled, watching as his smile broadened at the sound, before shrugging.
"Exactly why we need to consider all the possibilities." He shrugs, leaning back and making you suddenly miss the close proximity that seemed so intimidating at first. His legs brushed yours for a moment before he adjusted his position slightly to sit somewhat properly.
"Are you a philosopher, or something?" You asked, impressed by his knowledge of such an unusual topic. "I mean, this is something not a lot of people know about." You explained after he raised a curious brow at your question (probably meant to tease, you guessed).
"No,” his hand came up to bashfully cover the growing smile on his face, "I'm actually a vet student, I just like learning." He said, shrugging as if it was the simplest thing. "And maybe I'm a little bit of a romantic at heart."
Your lips pursed as you tried to keep your smile from getting too wide as you felt giddy with fondness for the whole-package of a man in front of you. "Is that so?" You asked, not sure what else to say to that, looking down as you traced random shapes on the table with your finger while blushing.
You couldn't see it, but Hirugami had a very serious, contemplative expression on his face as you did this.
Would it be too forward to just ask you out then and there? You seemed quite reserved... Would you be creeped out?
But if he didn't do it then, he was afraid he'd never get his chance again. Plus, he didn't want this warm, fuzzy feeling you caused in his chest to ever disappear. He wanted to hold onto it for a little longer.
"You could find out just how much of a romantic I can be..." He trailed off, inspecting your face for any signs that you might not be interested, but all he saw was how your blush deepened as your mind worked faster than his lips, so he made his move, leaning forward slightly as your eyes widened meekly. "By letting me take you out somewhere. Right now."
Your eyes snapped to his, blinking in confusion as he grinned, your blush somehow becoming even redder.
That was almost too smooth.
"Right now? It's pretty late. Where would we go?"
"Don't you like surprises?" His adorably jovial expression nearly made you give in.
"What if I don't?" You asked back with a small smirk that you promptly hid behind your nearly finished drink as you took a sip.
He sighed exaggeratedly, before leaning forward again, even closer than before as his hand fell beside your stagnant one, mirroring your position as his leg brushed yours without moving away this time. "There's this really fun Christmas market downtown... I'm sure you'd like it." He spoke with a high pitched voice, hoping to convince you with his puppy eyes and batting eyelashes. Not that you needed any of that to be convinced to go on a date with such an attractive man.
"Sure." You responded, mentally cringing at your lame reply. But Hirugami didn't seem to mind. He smiled broadly at you, taking your empty cup and throwing it away as you packed your stuff before walking towards where he stood at the entrance.
He was even taller than you thought. He had to be at least 1,90m, you noticed as you stood beside him, dwarfed in comparison. His long, beige coat made him seem even taller, complimenting his hoodie as well as the light blue jeans adorning his long legs.
"You'll like it, I promise." He said before pushing open the door for you before getting out of the shop and into the unforgiving cold of dusk, seemingly much colder than it actually was for people coming out of a warm and inviting environment you'd been in before.
You smiled at each other for a moment as you rubbed your hands together, wishing you'd brought some gloves as he led you closer to downtown.
You admired Hirugami's side profile as you walked in somewhat comfortable silence, broken up occasionally by his humming. You willed yourself to say something this time, instead of letting him lead the conversation.
Before you could come up with a topic, a kid ran in front of you to go join his friends, almost making you lose your balance if not for Hirugami's gentle hand on your lower back steadying you.
After making sure that you were alright, he turned to the group of kids gathered in a circle, with you doing the same, as they picked snowballs out of the mount they'd created before placing pieces in their mouths.
"I remember when I was that stupid." Hirugami said, smiling sarcastically, before scrunching his nose disapprovingly as the kids shouted excitedly about what they'd just done.
"You couldn't have been that stupid." You chuckled as you eyed the kids worryingly while you passed as you continued walking.
"My thinking license was revoked that day." He replied, chuckling as he reminisced, making you giggle as you talked.
"Is it still revoked?"
"If you keep smiling like that it will be."
Your eyes widened at the unexpected line, looking away as his eyes remained on you intently with a smile on his lips, breaking out into a full laugh as you looked down embarrassedly.
"Well," You began after cleaning your throat, hoping it'd distract him from your burning cheeks, "do you want to expand on that?"
"So, one Christmas, my siblings and I decided to give our mother a very expensive pair of diamond earrings. Fancy stuff." His humorous tone made you giggle. "And pretty important, since without them, none of us would have any gifts to give her. I think you can kind of see where this is going by now."
"Or maybe not, because I haven't even introduced the most important character yet, but we'll get there." You raised an intrigued brow, smiling at his excited narration. "On Christmas day, our dog was left unsupervised near the presents for a few minutes, and when we came back, she had a very special and very expensive box in her mouth." He paused for dramatic effect as you cringed in sympathy. 
He looked over at you to check if you were still listening, to find you with a scrunched up, adorably red, nose. The corner of his lips inched upwards softly, a blush dusted his cheeks and not from the cold before he regained his composure by looking ahead and making sure he didn’t stumble.
"And so, I tried to approach her and she ran away through the open window and I attempted to follow her... Only it didn't turn out as smooth as I had imagined." He sighed as you smiled with pity.
"And that's why Peanut isn't allowed anywhere near the presents."
“Peanut? Is that her name?" You asked curiously.
"Yeah! Wait, I have a picture right here." He said, pulling out his phone and showing you his lock screen, which was a picture of Hirugami and Peanut from years ago judging by how young he looked.
"She's adorable." You commented with a fond smile as you enjoyed the large, happy smile on young Hirugami's lips as he held his pet tightly, just before it was stored away in the man's pocket.
"Yeah, she takes after me."
Silence.
"I'll take it you think I'm cute."
"I plead the fifth." You both laughed loudly, earning odd stares from passersby that you paid no mind, as you approached a more crowded area close to the market. You would never tell him, but you were glad your joke was able to keep you from admitting that you did, indeed, find young Hirugami absolutely adorable. So cute that your heart could barely take it, with his bouncy looking hair and a toothy smile spreading over his round cheeks.
"But yeah, I got a whole mouthful of snow against my will and it wasn't anywhere near fun. So to see kids doing it willingly... Choices were certainly made." He said sarcastically as you laughed, nodding in agreement as you approached the wide plaza where the market was stationed, bustling with people and bright fairy lights.
"Come on! There's a stall this way that I buy from every year, and it never disappoints."
Hirugami led you towards a small stall with steam coming out of the windows as the worker fulfilled the people at the front of the queue's orders.
You stood by each other in line as you waited for your turn. "What kind of chocolate do you like?" He asked nonchalantly, and as you focused you could smell the scent of chocolate above the others.
"Surprise me." You said, not knowing exactly what he was planning to give you, but expecting something good nonetheless.
"I thought you didn't like surprises." He replied cheekily, smirking down at you as the line moved forward and you with it.
"Only on certain occasions."
"I'll keep that in mind." He said with a cheesy wink that still made you giggle. "You can stay back while I order, it'll be easier that way." He suggested as you got close to the start of the line, to which you nodded before motioning towards the fountain at the center of the plaza, waving as you walked to it.
You settled on the edge of it, taking out your phone and sending a message to your friend saying 'I have a lot to tell you.'
Just a few meters away stood a man who you were somewhat familiar with, tapping almost furiously on his screen, so unlike the deadpan expression on his face.
Bastard: Just fucking do it pussy🙄 It's the perfect opportunity!
So, clearing his throat, the man stepped forward, towards where you sat also looking at your phone.
"Here I thought you were the prettiest statue on the fountain." The man spoke from in front of you, making you look up from your phone to be met grayish-yellow narrow eyes that tugged at your memory in a familiar sort of way, though you couldn't place where you'd seen them before.
"You calling me stiff?" You asked with a blank look, holding in a smile as you finally realized where you knew him from, and by the widening of his eyes as he looked you over properly, he finally realized too.
"No! Ah fuck, aren't you in one of my classes?" The man asked, nose scrunched up in confusion as he squinted at you.
You nodded, telling him your name and what classes you shared (which were actually 2).
As he stuffed his cold hands in his pockets, his various rings caught on the fabric slightly, the glinting sliver on his pale hands matched the chains around his neck and the dangling earrings he wore. He looked down with furrowed brows which jumped up as a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head as he looked you over once more.
"Wait, was it two classes? Sorry, I don't really pay much attention to anything that happens in class." He said apologetically, rubbing his neck as he shifted from one chunky white sneaker to the other.
"Yeah, I can tell, even from the back row." You responded with a smirk, remembering the sight of the back of his spiky, dark brown hair, sitting two rows in front of you, doing everything but paying attention to the lesson. Fiddling with his jewelry or his phone,throwing anything he can get his hands on at one of his friends or simply just talking to them during the whole class. "If you didn't recognize me, then why'd you come talk to me?"
"Huh..." He trailed off, brows furrowed as if the answer was obvious.
He saw someone cute and tried to flirt with them, simple as that.
"Is that your friend?" Hirugami asked as he approached you and the new stranger, Suna, with two warm crepes with chocolate, narrowing his eyes at the other man slightly. "Hope you like Nutella." He commented as he watched you eye the sweets, handing one over to you which you took gratefully.
“We have a few classes together.” Suna said teasingly, taking a step closer to your side he kept his fox-like eyes on Hirugami’s narrowed ones with a challenging smile.
The air felt hot, slightly searing, despite how cold your hands felt, caught between two, very tall - although Hirugami was slightly taller than Suna, accentuated by his slouching -, very attractive, men.
"Well, we should get back to our date, I'm sure they can talk to you again in class next week.” The taller man said, a smile which you recognized as clearly being fake after such a short time with him on his face, taking a pleased bite out of his snack which you were also eating in an attempt to warm yourself up and distract from the tense atmosphere.
The sweet chocolate felt wonderfully warm on your taste buds, so good in fact that it nearly made you forget all about your surroundings for a moment, that is, until a hand was placed on your shoulder.
“Well, I don’t know if you noticed but your date seems cold." Said Suna - the owner of the hand on your shoulder - spitefully, smirking at the other man who blinked at your devious classmate, before they both turned to you.
Suna took your nearly finished snack from your hand, placing it into Hirugami’s opened hand as he gaped at the man - who donned some impressively sharp eyeliner - speechless as he took your hands into his pale and warm ones.
His hands were big around yours, the rings’ various textures scuffing against your skin as he attempted to create some friction tightening his grip to get the blood flowing and massaging each finger and the palms to help, breathing onto them as well as Hirugami looked in realization.
His hands had seemed cold at first glance when he’d first approached you - not like you’d been paying much attention to them, of course not - due to how pale and slim they were, seemingly incapable to provide much warmth despite being bigger than yours. But as he slowly brought warmth back to your digits, you realized their potential. He was gentle with his touches, but had a firm hold against your skin, hands so warm you wondered if he minded sacrificing his own warmth for yours.
Hirugami’s initial reaction was to chide Suna for putting the moves on his date, before he noticed the way your hands had lost some of their color, starting to regain it as the shorter man held them softly in his. He felt a sort of acceptance or perhaps even fondness for Suna’s actions, considering he saw what you needed before he could and acted without hesitation.
Maybe Hirugami's first thought of Suna, that he was a crafty man out to steal his date, was off by just a bit.
Not like he'd ever admit that. 
He still thought he was too crafty though.
His shoulders sagged as he watched the way Suna gazed at you intently, your cheeks pinker than before. His brows furrowed as his chest tightened protectively, jealousy swirling in his gut.
You looked over at the man with the beige coat, noticing the crestfallen expression he wore as he stared down at the food in his hands.  A half melted, nearly finished sag of chocolate; once prepared with care to bring warmth and comfort, now lay cold, shapeless even. His eyes stared down at it, refusing to look at the result of his carelessness unfolding before him, choosing instead to focus on the hopefulness he could still feel as he looked at the sweet snack.
“I should probably start heading home.”
“I’ll walk you to the station!” Hirugami said quickly in response, not being content with just sitting back and wallowing in his mistakes. Those days are over.
“Then, I’ll be going. See you on monday.” Suna said cheekily with a wink as he waved, eyes solely focused on you while you smiled while waving back.
The man then turned to Hirugami, giving a nod that could’ve been respectful, but he took it as mocking, since that seemed to be the only expression Suna could muster. But he nodded back nonetheless, turning away with an arm around your shoulders.
“Is this the right way?” You asked as you headed the opposite way from where you came from, looking up at Hirugami as he took his arm from around you with a blush as he avoided your gaze.
“We can get to the station this way pretty fast and I want to show you something.”
You simply nodded, clueless to the reason why he was leading you down this path.
He felt as if he had something to prove. As if he had to be better than his “rival” (who wasn’t really a rival at all, to his knowledge).
Just like when he was younger, he had to be better.
As the two of you walked in comfortable silence, you couldn't help but gaze down at your feet. Colorful lights reflected brightly off of the worn stone path, diverting your gaze upwards. Figures made of lights greeted you as you did. Hirugami smiled fondly at you after you looked up to meet his gaze, he watched as the lights reflected off of your eyes, your face becoming redder at the eye contact. The hot fuzziness you felt in your stomach forced you to look away from his intense look.
You walked side by side through the streets, commenting on the lights you saw and admiring the way they hung between buildings, right above your heads. 
At one point, Hirugami slipped his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers for good measure. His hand felt big, warm and soft, slightly bigger than Suna's with fingers just a little thicker--
Wait. 
Why were you still thinking about Suna?
Why did your mind still linger on the feeling of his rings on your hands or the way his razor sharp eyes zeroed in on you like you were the most expensive piece of jewelry he'd ever seen?
You would've felt bad for Hirugami, if your mind wasn't on him too. 
It seemed impossible for it not to be with how calming his presence was, easily lulling you into a sense of comfort like the sound of soft waves caressing the sand on a sunny summer day. 
Somewhere you sort of would rather be at right now. 
"Here we are." Hirugami's voice cut through the fog in your mind, stopping in front of the station and giving you an adorably awkward smile, swinging your still joined hands back and forth. This caused you to giggle at his antics while he laughed loudly at the released tension.
Neither of you wanted to speak, too afraid to ruin the pleasant atmosphere, knowing that you’d have to part from each other once you did.
Hirugami squeezed your hand once, then twice, then again as you did the same, rubbing his finger over the back of your hand as he took a step closer. His body heat enveloped you as he stood close enough for you to notice that his eyelashes were slightly lighter than his hair.
His hand raised hesitantly, brushing the side of your face with a feather-light finger that went around your head until he cradled it. You craned your head up in order to look at him as he looked down at you fondly, thumb stroking your red cheek. His big brown eyes roamed your features, as if committing them to memory with fond care.
“I’m glad we met. Call me anytime, ok?” He whispered, each word brushing your face before you nodded. His heart made his chest vibrate with its strength as he breathed deeply while looking intently into your eyes, nervous but elated at the happenings of his day. Well, most of them.
Hirugami’s face neared yours suddenly, eyes half-lidded while yours widened, before he placed a long and tender kiss on your forehead, making your eyes slip closed for a moment, the feeling of his soft, plump lips against your skin making your head feel light and a pleasant warmth to hum beneath your skin.
You stepped away from him slowly, hands attempting to hold each other for as long as possible before you walked towards the station, turning around every few steps to shoot him a smile or a wave before he disappeared from your view with an animated wave and a wide, toothy smile.
You took out your phone, pulling up your friend’s contact and ignoring the messages she’d sent already in response to your previous, cryptic text, and sending another message.
I have even more to tell you.
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perfeggso · 3 years
Text
I don’t want a lot (Johnny x Reader)
I wrote this as part of @suh-insane’s walking in a winter wonderland collab, so thanks to her for hosting! Happy holidays and I hope y’all enjoy ❄️☺️
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Genre: domestic fluff
Characters: Johnny, fem! reader, Ten
Warnings: nothing really just mentions of bad things that have happened this year lol. It’s a very...2020 fic. Also I guess some language. Also, smoking pot.
Rating: teen and up
Length: 3.5k
My movie quote is “They can’t evict you on Christmas! Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”
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December 18th 2020, 4:37 p.m.
“Knock, knock!” You pound your fist against the wooden door in front of you, then pull your coat tighter around you. You’d moved to Chicago five years ago for college, and you’re still not sure if you’ll ever adjust to the snowy winter months. It was at said college that you met,
“Johnny Suh!” You bang a fist on the door three more times. “I know you’re in there. Take your headphones off, you dumbass.”
You’re about to pull your phone out of your pocket and go to the trouble of removing a glove to text your boyfriend when you hear the door unlock from the inside, a metallic tumbling sound.
When the door opens all the way, Johnny is standing just past the threshold of his apartment, his catlike lips curled up at the edges. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a blue flannel, and his freshly dyed blond hair falls to where his headphones rest around the base of his neck. You can hear Nirvana coming from them because you are dating a stereotype.
Johnny leans his large frame against the side of the door where he had been holding it and smirks, but there’s nothing but softness behind the expression.
“Long time no see, sicko,” he teases.
You roll your eyes as he moves to let you pass into the entryway of his and Ten’s shoebox dwelling.
“You look even more like a deadbeat than you did a month ago,” you say, not moving because your clothing is starting to drip melting snow onto the floor and you don’t even know where to begin with taking it off. “This is proof you need me around taking care of you.”
Johnny pushes off the door and closes it, pausing his music. He crowds close and starts unwrapping your scarf so you don’t have to think about it anymore, shakes some of the slush off it so it pools at your feet, and hangs it on the coat rack. He does the same with your puffer jacket.
“Aw,” he pouts, “you don’t like the new color?” He tries to remove your beanie too, but it was part of your Outfit, so you yank it back down onto your head and give Johnny puppy dog eyes, choosing to ignore the way your heart rate picks up a little from the proximity. Hey, isolation was rough, okay? Johnny tucks your hair behind your ears instead.
“No, baby,” you say, starting to toe off your snow boots. “I love it. It’s very Disney prince, but simultaneously very… Kurt Cobain.” Johnny smiles and lets you finish stripping your winter gear, walking his way back towards his sofa until he’s sitting, legs wide. Snow falls in flurries past the window behind him. “It’s just that, I dunno, you look like you’ve been spending more time on Reddit or something.” Johnny sulks jokingly at your ribbing as you hang up your purse and try not to fixate on how cold the indoor air still is. “I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while,” you continue. “Oh wait! I forgot you have Ten around for that.”
Now it’s Johnny who’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t seem too offended because he beckons you over to sit with him. You follow his gesture, skipping towards him until you can curl into his side on the couch. He removes his headphones and lays his head against the crown of yours, taking your hand softly.
“It’s not my fault my girlfriend abandoned me for a month,” he complains, rubbing his thumb over yours.
This makes you chuckle. Oh, how you’ve missed him. “If that’s what you call ‘considerately protecting you from the Novel Coronavirus’,” you joke, “then I guess, but I refuse to apologize for doing my civic duty.”
Your case hadn’t been bad, but it was a logistical nightmare. You’d spent two weeks in total isolation, nursing a cough, guzzling hard alcohol straight to see if you could taste it, sending your best friend out to shop for you, and thanking your lucky stars for having a job that would let you work from home. You’d spent the next two waiting to test negative for the virus and a positive for antibodies. Johnny was initially distraught when you told him, sending you cloying messages and calling everyday to see if your symptoms were getting better or worse. Once you’d convinced him you weren’t dying though, he went back to his usual obnoxious self, joking about planning your funeral and accusing you of faking it to avoid him.
Johnny pulls you tighter into his side. “Whatever,” he concedes. “Is it safe to kiss you yet?”
You look up at him and shrug. “Nothing’s 100% but…”
That’s all the reassurance he needs to pull you into his lap and connect your lips. It's soft and languid, and you hold each other through it. His arms are so solid around your waist it simultaneously makes your heart flutter and makes you feel like you could relax and take a nap right here and now. When you pull away, Johnny runs his hands along your figure, as if to reassure himself you’re really there. The smile he gives you glows, but only for a moment. You curl yourself into the crook of his neck and place the back of your hand on his cheek, tender. His skin there scratches yours just the tiniest bit.
“I missed you,” he says, chuckling.
“Mm-hm, I missed you too,” you reply. “How are you, anyway? You said you had something to tell me?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says. He maneuvers you off his lap to sit by his side, and from this angle you can truly tell that he’s going sheepish. Suddenly it feels like there’s an alien hand in your stomach. What could this possibly be about? Johnny’s nervous silence gets your brain spinning – a zoetrope of stupidity. Am I being broken up with? No – obviously not. Does he have a family member dying of COVID? I fucking hope not; that’d be complicated on multiple levels. Maybe it’s good? Maybe he finally got a job offer but he has to move away or something.
Johnny starts talking before your mind can come up with any other ridiculous hypotheses.
“We’re getting evicted.”
You furrow your brow. Had you misheard him? You shake your head, incredulous. Johnny and Ten had always maintained a good relationship with their landlord. It didn’t make sense for everything to turn on a dime, even if they were struggling financially.
“You’re kidding,” is all you manage to say.
Johnny just purses his lips and raises his eyebrows as if to say, “it is what it is.”
What he really says is that he wishes he was kidding, but he’s not.
“Oh my god,” you respond, crossing your arms in irritation at, well, at everything lately. “Fuck! When is this happening?”
Johnny sighs. “Technically in a week.”
You feel the cogs of your post-COVID brain start to crank against each other. A week from today would be…hold on,
“Wait,” you say, as the situation starts to appear more and more ridiculous. “Like exactly a week from today? Like on Christmas? You’re being evicted on literal Christmas?” You’re trying really hard not to raise your voice, even if it’s clear that if you did, it would be out of indignation on Johnny’s behalf. You’re obviously not upset with him.
Johnny’s eyes roll around in their sockets as if this is the first time he’s contemplated the exact timing.
“Well, yeah, I guess a week from today is Christmas…”
The absurdity of this all is getting to you, and you can’t help it, you start to laugh. It’s that kind of nihilistic, fuck-all laughter that’s been one of the few things getting you through this year.
“They can’t evict you on Christmas!” you quote. “Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”
Johnny looks at you blankly for a second, so you contort your face into that open expression universally recognized as the “get it?” face.
“From Go?” You hint. “C’mon, Johnny boy.”
And before his nickname can fully escape your mouth, your boyfriend is cutting you off with a long sound of recognition and doubling over his lap in giggles.
“Good one,” he says into his right knee, and you giggle along with him. “Wholly inappropriate, but clever nonetheless.”
“Why, thank you,” you say, enjoying the levity, but unable to uproot the feeling of dread in your gut at Johnny’s conundrum.
Go is one of you and Johnny’s favorite movies to watch around Christmastime, mostly because it’s only tangentially related to Christmas, it’s kitschy and ridiculous, and has a plot that is 90% crime. You’re surprised he didn’t catch the reference more quickly, but to his credit, he has more pressing worries taking up mental space.
“Where is Ten, anyway?” you ask, looking around performatively at the messy and claustrophobic room. A silver plastic Christmas tree twinkles on a table in the corner. “Have you two talked about a plan yet?”
“He’s grocery shopping,” Johnny explains. “He’ll be home soon. And yeah, we have an idea.”
“You do? Because you could always move in with me.”
Johnny scrunches his face up. “I would love to live with you.” Your heart rattles a little in excitement, even though you know there will be a ‘but.’ Johnny goes on, “but you know both of us wouldn’t fit in your apartment. Where would Ten sleep? Or put his stuff? We’d all be on top of each other.”
You nod, defeated because you know he’s right.
“Hey,” Johnny says, “but we can always have the ‘moving in’ conversation again, okay?”
“Okay,” you say, grabbing his hand. “Sounds good.”
It suddenly feels very dark in the apartment (it’s still chilly enough you think you might be able to see your breath, but you aren’t about to complain because you know there’s a very good reason for that), so Johnny pushes himself up off the couch to turn on a couple of lamps.
“So,” he says, facing you from across the room, “we’re gonna be evicted on Christmas, no matter what the cinematographic masterpiece that is Go tells us is right or wrong. Christmas is just as much of a capitalist construction as our rent, after all.”
You’re about to pipe up again about how fucked that is and how surely they can come to some sort of agreement with the landlord, but Johnny anticipates this and keeps talking.
“We tried to argue, babe, but as I know you know, we don’t exactly have much of a leg to stand on.”
Johnny is right. Again. How many months behind were they on rent at this point? They’d gotten a few months delayed back in spring, but they still owed everything that built up from that before the end of the year, and they’d blown through their stimulus check a long time ago. Johnny has tried to find work, but the theater business hasn’t exactly been booming. Ten, for his part, is able to make a bit of money doing freelance illustration and teaching dance classes over Zoom from his room, but his studio’s engagement has dropped since March and he still unfortunately gets paid per student. You can’t help wanting to punch a wall in frustration at how unfair this all is, but it’s not like any of it comes as a shock. You’re not naïve. You and Johnny met at a leftist theory club for Christ’s sake.
“We’re helping organize a rent strike,” Johnny says, calming you down. Finally, a glimmer of hope. “We’re not the only ones in the building going through it right now, and we know a lot of the tenants who aren’t being evicted well enough we can convince them to join.”
Right then, the front door flies open and thwacks a startled Johnny in the back.
“I’m home!” Ten calls from behind a sack of groceries. You can’t even see his face yet. “I’m terribly sorry,” he directs at Johnny, then heaves the bag of food onto the kitchen counter which is also sort of in the middle of the living room.
“Ooh,” he coos when he sees you, still sat on the couch. “The missus is back!” He strips himself of his winter coat, ignoring your scoffing and revealing an oversized red and white striped sweater. He shimmies against the cool air and lets out a sort of squeal. “I was not built for this actual winter shit.”
“Hi, Ten,” you say once he finishes his theatrics. “Missed you.”
Ten shoots a sappy pout your way. “I miss you too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better! You have no idea how morose Johnny got without you constantly around. Can I give you a hug?”
You nod and try to warm up Ten’s tiny frame with yours while Johnny mutters something about Ten not knowing what “morose” means. When you break away, Johnny is rifling through the week’s haul to put things away.
“I see you didn’t go off-brand for the ramen,” Johnny remarks, stacking several Shin bowls in the cupboard. He turns to Ten with a raised brow. “Big spender.”
“They didn’t have anything else but if you would answer your damn phone I could have called and asked you about it.”
“I answer my phone,” Johnny grumbles, stowing some orange juice away in the fridge.
“Besides,” Ten continues, ignoring his roommate, “since I’m the only one making any money in this household I figured I’d give myself some discretion for spending it.”
Johnny grimaces, and you figure this is where you should probably step in.
“We were just talking about the rent strike, Ten. Johnny was filling me in.”
Ten turns his attention back to you, letting Johnny house the food items in peace.
“We’ll see how it goes,” says Ten, looking out the window just past your shoulder, “but I’m letting myself hope a little bit. As far as I’m concerned, they’ll be kicking my corpse out of here before they put me on the streets.”
Johnny scoffs. “Always so dramatic.”
“Says the former theater major.”
“Touché.”
You’d missed the ‘old married couple’ dynamic your boyfriend has with his roommate.
“But really, just, please try not to get the cops involved,” you plead. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” says Johnny as he closes the last cabinet and crinkles the brown paper bag up for storage.
Ten shrugs. “No promises.”
You sigh.
Once everything is good and settled a few moments later, Ten decides the apartment needs a more festive atmosphere, so that’s how you end up getting dragged down the short hallway to Johnny’s room while Ten belts Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” from the living room and accuses Johnny of being a scrooge. Even still, Johnny sways playfully from side to side as he walks backwards, shimmying his shoulders and mouthing the words with a smile between protestations that this is “not how I envisioned finally spending time again with my girlfriend!” The way he buries his hands into the sleeves of his flannel to make sweater paws makes your heart so full you want to curl up and die. But, moving on.
Once in his bedroom, Johnny flicks on a warm-hued lamp and watches fondly as you collapse on the bed.
“I really did miss you guys,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour.
Johnny’s lips press into a little smile. “Yeah. We missed you. A lot. Especially me – you have no idea.”
You laugh sardonically. “Based on your text messages, I think I actually do have an idea.”
Johnny flops down on top of you, crushing you a bit.
“Oh really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His golden hair is falling in your face and it tickles, but Johnny halts any laughter with a kiss, then dots tiny kisses all over your cheeks and nose. They tickle too.
“You wanna smoke?”
“Sure.”
Johnny has a pre-rolled joint on his bedside table, and you watch him light it, feeling like you’re in a snow globe with the fall of snowflakes outside. The sky is that weird greyish off-yellow that only comes with a snowy night.
After a couple of hits, Johnny lies back down next to you and hands you the joint. The smoke brings you that usual tight feeling, like your lungs are shrinking but at the same time swimming in radiant heat. You don’t know if you should technically be doing this right after COVID, but you’re young and your body is resilient; you figure you’ll be fine. Besides, you can already feel the pleasant lightness setting in around your mind. It’s a placebo at this point, no doubt, but the relaxed anticipation is nice. You take note of the fact that Johnny had started playing music while you were thinking about lungs. The Strokes’ “Under Control” is doing battle with Ten’s Christmas tunes still seeping in through the cracks in the door.
You hand Johnny his joint back and roll onto your side, supporting your head with one hand and curling the other into Johnny’s abundant hair.
“I just want to say one more time,” you begin, “if worse comes to worst, you can always move in with me.”
Johnny takes another hit and holds it for a second, leaving you in anticipation.
“I know,” he says simply. “But I really think this’ll work. I have to, right? Besides, if Ten had to hear us fucking multiple times a week we would all start to regret living together. That, I can promise.”
You laugh, burying your increasingly silly-feeling head into Johnny’s chest. “Okay, fair.”
There’s stillness for a few beats where you just count your and Johnny’s breaths, trying to synch them up. This doesn’t work though, since Johnny’s lungs are bigger. Then,
“There’s no way your parents would lend you some money?” Your voice comes out quiet. “Or let you stay with them for a while?”
Johnny looks down at you, letting out a heavy sigh. “No, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea for…so many reasons. Besides, they don’t exactly have an extra few months worth of Chicago rent lying around either.”
You nod against Johnny’s chest. “I figured,” you say. “Just checking.”
Johnny brushes his fingers through your hair and kisses your part. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, offering a slightly sly smile.
You kiss the white fabric of his undershirt. It’s been so long since the two of you just laid together, and it feels better than you could have hoped, Johnny’s body heat helping to alleviate some of the cold of an apartment gradually losing its utilities. You wish you could get closer than chest to chest. You kind of wish you could burrow into him, but not in a weird way, you know?
“I believe in you guys,” you say. “However I can help, I will.”
“Thanks.”
Apparently, Johnny is done with talking, because he pulls you in for a warm kiss. Then, he gets the brilliant idea to shotgun the pot smoke. This activity quickly devolves into a very giggly makeout session, only to be interrupted by Ten’s voice outside the door.
“I’m opening the door in five seconds, you guys,” he says, “and if Johnny’s dick is out when I get in there, I’m evicting both of you myself!”
You and Johnny fall together laughing as Ten cautiously cracks the door. He swats at the air in disapproval.
“Stinks…” he remarks. “Oh, thank god you’re decent. Anyway, John, if the lady is staying for the evening, you both need to come help cook dinner, because I am not your housemaid, even if I do look good in a maid costume. Chop-chop.”
It takes way too long to get up out of bed because Ten, as usual, has made both you and Johnny absolutely lose it. Eventually, you manage to rise, but Johnny pulls you quickly back against his lap.
“Hey!”
“Just a minute.” He presses one last kiss under your left ear. “I love you.”
You can feel your skin tingle, although it might just be the weed. Either way, you’ll never tire of hearing that. “I love you too, Johnny.”
“I think Mariah was right,” Johnny whispers, voice displaying mock awe as if he were coming to a mind blowing realization. “All I want for Christmas is you.”
You give him a sympathy chuckle because that was kind of cute, in a corny way, and Johnny just swats your ass a little in response to get you back up to standing.
“Well, you and some basic shelter would be ideal,” Johnny deadpans. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask but I guess we’ll see.” You smile sympathetically. This strike is no doubt going to make for a stressful week, but you’re glad it’s starting like this.
“Hey, love birds!” Ten hollers from the kitchen.
“C’mon,” you say with a laugh. “Let’s not leave him waiting any longer.”
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some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years
Note
BNHA, MomoJirou?
Prompts 25. "I know this looks bad, but I swear, it's not."
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So many ways this could go~! Hopefully the route I took was a fun one!
Minor Trigger Warning: Mentions of Blood
Momo considered herself to be a rather fortunate woman. She had a financially successful family, a great relationship with her father and was working on things with her mother, a close-knit group of friends she loved dearly, and had started a paid internship just a few weeks back for a designing agency run by The Kayama Nemuri. She knew that she was an incredibly lucky person, that there were those who would kill for the opportunities she had been given, and made sure to wear her gratitude on her sleeve to everyone she knew. She put all her effort and energy into being a good daughter, a good friend, and a good employee, doing whatever she could through action to help emphasize the depth and sincerity of her gratitude. After all, actions were a great indicator of the merit of one's words!
But sadly… Her love life hadn’t seen nearly as many returns as the rest of her life had.
She’d had three relationships in the past and they’d all been… lackluster, to put it mildly. Her first relationship had been a situation where she agreed to date the guy more out of obligation than anything. He had been incredibly nice to her and her then-friends had insisted that meant she at least owed him a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend. The relationship had only lasted three months of her first year of high school and ended so horribly that her father had transferred her to a new school at the conclusion of her first semester.
The school she transferred to was a girls-only boarding school and where she grew into her sexual identity as a pansexual woman. She had a longer relationship with one of her classmates that started in the winter of her second year and ended in the spring of their third year, with her ex immediately jumping to date another of their peers within a week of the break up. It had been painful to watch and, for about a year after, she had avoided relationships for a while.
Her relationship after that had been even worse. She didn’t like to dwell on that ex too much simply because… Well, how incredibly awful it had been. The relationship had felt much more like the two of them getting together because they were afraid of being single in their group of friends. The two of them had nearly no common interests and her ex had always seemed to find her passion for fashion design to be a waste of time, frequently inquiring why she didn’t study something more “practical”. Momo herself, however, thought that her degree plan had been more than practical, considering her minor had been in business.
That relationship lasted ten months and ended when she learned of an affair.
She’d taken a two year break from dating after that, focusing instead on her friend and family and school. All of her friends had rallied around her after that break up, helping to lift her back up, and she had been incredibly grateful for it. They reminded her to never settle for less than she was worth, to wait until someone who deserved her commitment came around.
And then, one day, she met Jirou Kyouka.
Their first meeting had been an impromptu sort of thing. Momo’s dear friend Mina had to take her new puppy, Floofles, to the vet for vaccines and spaying. It was an overnight situation with a designated pick-up time, but Mina had to be at work during the time. She has begged Momo if, since she was free that day, she could pick Floofles up and monitor her until she herself was home. And not one to let a friend in need down, Momo had agreed.
In the lobby of the little vet clinic had sat a young woman in dark colors, with short cut indigo hair, and a snarling mass of hay colored fur in her lap. Momo had been a few minutes early and was urged to take a seat while she waited, causing her to settle into the vacancy next to the stranger and her displeased pet. Upon closer examination she realized that it was a cat, with a front paw that looked to be at an odd angle, which seemed to explain the attitude. “Oh, the poor little dear,” she murmured quietly, not thinking as the words left her mouth.
Dark eyes flickered up to her, the gleam of disinterest fading to a light of interest. Her lips twitched up in a small smile. “Thank you, but he did this to himself,” she hummed, reaching out to set one hand on the cat’s head. He responded by growling audibly and jerking his head out from under her touch. “Leave the patio door open unsupervised for one minute, and he leaps out to chase a bird. Eats shit and ends up hurting his paw.”
The cat let out a displeased hiss at his dirty laundry being aired, but it only resulted in both women laughing. The next few minutes waiting for Floofles had passed in the blink of an eye as she chatted up the cat owner, learning that the cat was named Dynamight and was just a grumpy old man trapped in the body of a young cat. Once Floofles was brought out to her, Momo asked for the other’s number, explaining she wanted to see how Dynamight was doing once his paw got looked at. And while there was genuine care about the cat’s well being involved, there had also been a selfish motivation behind it, too. Her companion seemed to know as much but didn’t draw attention to it as they exchanged numbers.
That was eleven months ago, with she and Jirou’s nine month anniversary as an official couple just on the horizon. And Momo couldn’t help but smile whenever she thought about it. Jirou was unlike her past partners in so many ways. She encouraged and supported Momo’s designing works, they shared a secret love of true crime love documentaries, and she was incredibly laid back. With her, Momo could feel her walls fall down and she felt genuinely secure about it. There was something naturally calming about Jirou’s presence and approach to life - of going with the flow and taking things as they came - that was refreshing and exhilarating. So much of Momo’s own life had been slotted around by activity start and end times, of living up to expectations both real and imagined, that the idea of simply letting things be and dealing with them as they came up was incredibly freeing.
The thought occurred to her as she stepped out of the elevator at Jirou’s apartment complex and started to make her way to her door. Normally, she made sure to reach out before dropping by. Part of it was because she didn’t like just showing up unannounced, but another reason was because of her girlfriend’s erratic work schedule. The other woman did freelance work of some kind - the details were vague and confidential - so her hours tended to shift depending on the needs of her client. Sometimes, she’d be free for a good three or four days, while other times she’d be engrossed in her projects for hours at a time. Things had been pretty quiet from what little she remembered last time they talked about work, though, so she felt things would be fine this one time.
She opened the door to the front door, unsurprised to find it unlocked. Jirou tended to leave the door unlocked in case her neighbor, a bedraggled single father, ever needed to ask for an impromptu baby-sitter. His daughter liked cats and Dynamight, as Momo herself had seen, was surprisingly agreeable with the young girl when she came by. She half expected to see young Eri settled on the couch, a Disney movie playing on the television, while Jirou prepared dinner or worked on something for a client, when she stepped in.
Only to stop just a few steps through the threshold.
A map of the city was spread across the coffee table, two large pillar candles set up at the far corners of the table, while Jirou was kneeling in front of it. She was cutting open what seemed to be a small blood donation bag with some scissors, a small wooden box to her left with what seemed to be crystals inside. After a moment, Jirou reached towards the box and pulled one out, a thin strand of yarn wrapped around the crystal. She released a slow breath. “Okay, Kyouka… This shouldn’t be too hard. You haven’t exactly used this combination before but it should work out fine,” she mumbled to herself, moving the crystal to dangle over the open lip of the bag.
Momo couldn’t help it; she gasped, loud and horrified. She was completely stunned. What was all of this? What purpose did it serve? It all seemed incredibly occult. Jirou had never seemed like the type to have such interests. Hearing her gasp, Jirou jerked to stare at her with a horrified stare of her own. She opened her mouth twice, clearly scrambling to find words to string together, before she clamped it shut with a soft click of her jaw.
They stared at one another for a long moment, eyes wide and their heart beats seeming to echo in the tiny space.
"I know this looks bad, but I swear, it's not!" Jirou yelped, finally cutting through the silence, dropping the blood bag in her hands and letting it hit the ground with a sickening splat sound. Momo felt her whole body shudder with the sound and her stomach flipped uneasily. She shifted her weight back on the heels of her feet while keeping her eyes fixated on Jirou.
“Tch! She’s gonna try and make a break for it if you don’t seal the door off, ya idiot!” For a moment, Momo was befuddled by the new voice she heard. She swore she could hear quiet, cat-like growls between their words, but… That wouldn’t make sense, right? Who does cat impressionations while speaking? Slowly she turned her head in the directions of the voice, her eyes landing on the familiar fluffy form of Dynamight sitting on the kitchen counter. His pupils shrunk to slimmer slits before he curled his lips back, the voice from before sneering, “Oh, looks like she’s starting to put shit together! Get your head back in the fucking game!”
Dynamight… Her cat… Was talking? But then… Talking cats were common of…
Momo whipped around and moved to rush for the apartment door, heart beating erratically in her chest. If this was all really happening, she needed to get out! Before a hex of some kind could be placed on her, or even worse! “Wait, Yaomomo! Please hear me out!” Jirou called out after her.
Just as her hands made to grab for the handle, it shriveled and withered into the door itself like a rotten fruit being reclaimed by its tree. A startled shriek left her as she scrambled backwards, watching with wide eyes as the rest of the door melted into the frame, the seam separating the two disappearing completely. She felt herself drop to her knees and wrap her arms tight around herself. “Oh God,” she breathed shakily, closing her eyes tightly as she heard soft footfalls approaching her. “I promise I won’t tell anyone about this! J-Just please! D-Don’t hu-hurt me! L-Let me go!”
There was a quiet swishing of wind and fabric before she felt herself being lifted slightly. Then, there was a soft and warm hand gently cupping her cheek. “I would never hurt you, Momo. Please… Even if you aren’t sure how to feel about the rest of this, please know that much is the truth,” The other woman’s voice hitched with pain as she spoke, clearly wounded by the suggestion. She peeked her eyes open to see she was floating just a few feet above the ground so that she was able to meet the other’s dark eyes. Those same eyes were pleading and vulnerable.
Momo swallowed thickly before timidly nodding her head. “I’m sorry,” she breathed softly.
“No, I understand. This… Isn’t what you were anticipating to walk into,” Jirou said with a small sigh before glancing over at the sacrificial site set up on her coffee table. “Just let me clean that up real fast, put on some tea and then I’ll explain.” Momo nodded with a bit more certainty before she was carefully floated over and set delicately on the couch.
She sat and watched in quiet bemusement as the other skittered to and fro, using what Momo could only assume was magic to help her. The longer she observed, the more relaxed she gradually became. While she worked at getting the blood cleaned up off the wood paneling, Dynamight actually rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to fish out the kettle and start filling it up. It was a little impressive to watch how he did it with his paws and teeth, though she could still hear the quiet grumbled swears he released as he did. Once all the summoning stuff and blood were cleaned up, Jirou prepared them each a cup of tea and settled into the couch seat a space away from Momo, giving her a good amount of breathing room.
She handed the cup over carefully with one hand. “I went with that citrus one you brought a while back. I remembered that one having a nice little zing to it,” she explained.
“Thank you,” Momo took a quick sip of her own cup, disregarding how it scalded her tongue just a smidge. “So… You’re a witch, I take it.” she said evenly.
Jirou nodded. “Yes, I am,”
“And Dynamight-!”
“Bakugo,”
“Huh?”
“His actual name is Bakugo Katsuki. Dynamight is just his… um.. Common cat name. Easier than explaining the logistics of a familiar,” she explained with a small nervous laugh.
“So he is your familiar,” she mused, taking another sip. The other nodded as she took a sip from her own cup as well, setting it on the coaster on the coffee table when she was done. 
Jirou’s hands clutched at her knees, eyes skirting down to stare at them instead. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’ve wanted to but… I was worried. There’s a lot of paperwork and hoops to jump through to get that kind of clearance. And even then… There’s no guarantee that you’d want to keep that knowledge. And if that happened, your memories would have to be wiped and I couldn’t see you anymore.”
Momo blinked in surprise. “Wait, what?”
“It’s a safety protocol that the higher ups implement to keep the general public safe, as well as those of us in the bureau,” she sighed, lifting her head to peek up at her worriedly. It was clear she was uneasy but was also being transparent. “Though, I suppose I should actually… Well, explain what’s going on here, huh?”
She nodded. “So… Is this related to your work?”
“Yes, actually. See, I’m aligned with what’s called the I.B.O.M.O., which is abbreviated further to I-Boom, and is short for International Bureau of Magical Events. As a representative, I have the ability to travel between this realm - the mortal plane - and the realm of magical creatures - the magical plane. As such, it is my responsibility to keep instances of magical creatures and mortal interactions limited. Part of that is tracking down rogue magicals that come into the mortal plane without the proper permissions and, if they encounter a mortal, wiping memories and issuing out punishments,” she explained, picking her cup back up and taking a sip.
“So what you were doing… Was that related to something like that?” Momo asked with a tilt of her head.
Jirou nodded. “Yes. I was trying to scry. My current assignment is to track down the heir of a noble warlock family who has apparently fled to this plane. He is apparently somewhere in this city but.. Well, since he hails from a high ranking family, his magical skills have been well-honed so trying to find him has been a struggle. I’d been hoping that by combining my scrying technique and a powerful conjuring technique using the bird blood I could… Well… Try to get some idea as to where he might be,” she sighed, letting her shoulders slump. “This is the longest I’ve ever taken on an assignment and it’s.. Well, it’s difficult.”
Momo stared at her before glancing back down at her cup. Her thumb traced along the rim of the cup thoughtfully, an idea turning about in her head. “Could… Could I help you find him?”
“Huh?”
“The fuck can a human like you do to help?” Dynamight - erh, Bakugo? - chimed in, hopping down from the breakfast nook and trotting over. He scrambled up and sat on the table, glaring her down with his ears back and fluffy tail lashing. “If a witch with as many accomplishments as Earlobes is having a hard time, what fucking chance does a mere human like you have?”
“Well, if you have an idea of around when he appeared, I can ask around,” Momo said, tone a little petulant. The sheer lunacy that she was arguing with a cat wasn’t lost on her completely - and she made note to ask Jirou later how, exactly, it was she could hear his voice - but she still felt the need to, as immature as it was. “I have a lot of connections around the city. I might be able to get you a list of suspects, since there is the chance he could do… Um… What is it called? Glamour?”
Jirou giggled a bit. “You’re right. Glamour is the tool magical creatures use to disguise their true forms,” She lightly tapped her chin in thought. “Hmm. That’s not a bad idea, actually. He could be using glamour to disguise his appearance since it’s so unique. Make himself harder to find.” Momo smiled at Jirou’s words, her heart fluttering a bit at the prospect of being about to help her girlfriend. “But… If you’re going to get involved, I’ll need to file the proper paperwork and make a protection charm for you. I want you to be safe. I don’t think the nobleman would harm you but… I don’t know the specifics of why he left the magical plan unannounced. I’d rather air on the side of caution.”
Momo nodded as she took another sip of her tea. A part of her told her she shouldn’t get this invested. It was Jirou’s work and she herself wasn’t a witch. She shouldn’t be getting involved too heavily. But… If she could help her girlfriend, wasn’t it worth it? If it gave her a chance to show how much she appreciated how good Jirou was to her, it had to be worth it.
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that-sw-writer · 3 years
Note
If you’re taking requests, hear me out...
Kylo x reader
Disney princess Mulan style. Reader is in the knights of Ren but no one knows she’s a girl! Kylo is the first to find out maybe by walking in on her changing or something idk whatever you think would be the best. I thought of this after reading intoxicated which both parts were awesome by the way!!
I’m so sorry that you’ve waited about a century for me to finish this... but I tried to make up for that by including a zesty meme to go with this lmao
Also I’m glad you enjoyed intoxicated, it’s literally one of my favourite things I’ve ever written!! I hope this one shot is what you had in mind!
MASTERLIST
Paring: Female Knight of Ren!Reader/Kylo Ren (Mulan inspired)
Word count: 4582
Warnings: mentions sex and kylo ren is briefly a bit of a dick
(context for the dank meme will be provided when you read)
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I’ll Make a Man Out of You
You were struggling today, more than most months. Usually you managed to get through stomach cramps with a few painkillers, but today you were practically keeling over, and it hadn't escaped the notice of the other Knights of Ren.
"Nuren? You okay?" Kuruk had asked you in the midst of sparring, noticing that your movements were sloppy as you tried to ignore the crippling pain in your stomach.
"Yeah, I'm just feeling a bit under the weather." You tried to play it off, your voice coming off modulated due to your helmet. You were the only knight who always wore their helmet, the others took theirs off to socialise but you had to keep your secret safe, so you had told them from day one that you had taken an oath to never allow any sentient being to see your face, something you knew was common amongst the Mandalorian clans.
It was a solitary life, lying every day to the people whom you cared about more than anyone else, but you were in too deep to tell them to truth now. There had never been a woman amongst the Knights of Ren, and that wasn't likely to change - at least, not as far as anyone knew. You would just continue to miss out on drinking and eating with your brothers, being forced to sit in the corner and try your best to join in with their merriment.
Even your leader, Kylo Ren, had no idea of the truth. For years now you had concealed your gender from them, but you had never intended for it to go this far. You had joined the knights when they had come to your homestead seeking your brother, who was Force sensitive. He hid when they had shown up and you sent the knights on a cold trail to look for him, but after they left you had considered things. You were desperate for an escape and for adventure, plus you were also Force sensitive, so you had decided to drop everything and chase after them in place of your brother. You had concealed your identity by donning simple armour, which was soon replaced once they had taken you on board.
You took on the name Nuren, which meant 'woman' in your planet's dialect - hidden in plain sight, and you had never looked back. Sure, nothing about it was easy, but you wouldn't dare quit, you quickly found yourself enjoying the training, missions and most importantly: the brotherhood.
"Perhaps we should call it a day." Kylo raised his hand to stop the sparring, his gaze unsurprisingly fixated on you. "Nuren, go to the med-bay if you need to." Despite being a terrifying Supreme Leader to most, Kylo Ren cared about his knights, although little did he know that you had just gotten your period - there was nothing seriously wrong with you.
Over the years you had learnt a lot about concealing your emotions, particularly those where Master Ren was concerned. There were thousands of people in the galaxy whom you could have fallen for, but you had to choose to fall for Kylo Ren - the one man you could never have, for more reason than one. Most obviously: he thought you were a man who could under no circumstances remove his helmet in front of other people. But aside from that, even if he did know the truth, how could it ever work? You were one of his knights. Although admittedly, you had spent a lot of time alone at night dreaming that it could work.
"That's okay Master Ren, I think I just need to rest." You stood tall as you spoke to him, despite the sharp pain that was still twisting your stomach.
"Very well." He nodded, dismissing you all, but you could see the look of concern still on his face.  Curse these cramps for ruining training for you.
You retired alongside your brothers after that, still trying to ignore just how much pain you were in, but they were unsurprisingly teasing you about it.
"One little stomach ache takes Nuren down? This is the same guy I once saw singlehandedly take on a Nightsister right?" Cardo gave you a bolshy nudge and the others all laughed.
"He's right, I knew the food they served up on this base was crap, by I didn't realise it was that crap." Trudgen then jested, and you laughed along with them, knowing that this was just how they behaved.
"You think I eat that shit?" You snorted as you all made your way back to your shared common area.
There was a large communal area where the knights all socialised together and attached were seven bedrooms, each sealed behind private blast doors.
"Since we're done for the day, who fancies a drink?" Ap'lek asked the moment you all stepped foot inside, moving over to produce multiple bottles of beer from the fridge.
The others all mumbled in agreement, moving to take off their helmets and make themselves comfortable. Despite knowing that you would decline, the knights never failed to ask you to join them and they had no idea how much that simple gesture meant to you, let alone how much you wanted to accept it.
"How about it Nuren? Nothing like alcohol to cure sickness." Ushar grinned, but you reluctantly shook your head.
"I think I might just turn in and take a nap." You said, your brothers all bidding you farewell before you disappeared behind the doors that lead to your quarters.
As soon as you were alone, you shed yourself of the heavy helmet, as well as the outer layers of your armour. Carrying around that much weight on your body whilst on your period should have been a crime.
Rather than collapsing onto the bed, you moved to dig through your drawers where you had a stash of painkillers hidden for these exact moments - hopefully they would at least give you a few pain-free hours so you could spend some time with the other knights before they got too drunk.
Swallowing down the pill, you knew it would take some time to kick in so you opted to soak in a warm bath until them, that usually helped. From your refresher you could vaguely hear the others all laughing and having fun together. It pained you more and more every day have to be such an outsider, but you feared that if you revealed the truth to them they would never accept you.
You tried not to let your thoughts dwell on negative things whilst you bathed, but it was hard not to. You had everything you ever wanted - but you didn't have it, as far as anyone else was aware your brother was the one living this dream. Could you really go on like this forever? The answer was: yes. You had no choice, you would die with your secret one day.
You eventually left the refresher, a towel wrapped securely around your body. Thankfully, this time your painkillers were actually working, so with any luck you'd be able to join your brothers and simply watch them drink and wish you could join in - just as you always did.
When you pulled on your undergarments you wrapped tight bandaging around your chest to flatten it. It was beyond painful to wear every day, but definitely easier than explaining why you had breasts...
You tugged on your slightly baggy trousers, and your even baggier undershirt. You found that clothes with less shape worked better. However, before you could sweep your hair back into a clean bun and put your helmet on, you heard the blast doors to your room open.
The knights knew to never walk into each other's private quarters unannounced, and there was surely only one other person who could possibly be in the knights' common area.  But why would he be in here?
"I wanted to check that you're okay-" Kylo began, clearly not focusing as he entered.  But when his voice trailed off you knew that he had laid eyes on you.
With your heart in your mouth, you slowly turned around to confirm your worst nightmare. Kylo Ren stood staring at you, his mouth slightly agape. Clearly he hadn't known what to expect, but this was far beyond the parameters of his imagination.
"I can explain-" you quietly said, your voice coming out as nothing but a mere whisper. Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
Clearly just as unsure how to process what he had seen as you were, he simply turned on his heel and fled the room, quickly marching out of the knights' common area altogether.
There was no time for you to panic, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, pulled your helmet on and took off after him, still only wearing your under-layers. As you dashed out, your brothers paid you little mind, they were too caught up in their conversation to notice the commotion.
"Master Ren, wait." You called to him as he was striding ahead of you.
In one sharp motion he turned to you, pushing you against the wall, his gloved hand clasped around your neck where he could see wisps of hair falling out from beneath your helmet.
"I want you to leave this base, and pray that I never see you again." He was cutting off your airwaves, but nevertheless you still attempted to choke out.
"M-Master Ren, please. I-I had to lie." You tried to explain, your voice coming out as a  strained croak.
"And now you have to leave." He hissed, the betrayal in his tone was clear. Without another word he released you and went storming off down the corridor again.
You had no idea what to do, or who to turn to. Perhaps it was just best to heed Kylo's warning and leave. You feared that if Kylo's reaction had been nothing short of death threats, you would be met with a very similar reaction from your fellow knights, but part of you also thought that they deserved to know the truth before you abandoned them.
Besides, now you had nothing left to lose.
When you arrived back in the common area, the knights were all lost in their merriment. Clearly a few drinks down, you could tell they were slightly tipsy, although perhaps that would make this easier.
"I need to tell you something." You planted yourself in the middle of the room, and were immediately met by jeering, something you would've normally embraced and enjoyed, but now your reaction was stone cold.
"Hopefully you're telling us that you're ready to have some fun!" Cardo bellowed, "c'mon Nuren, loosen up a bit."
"No." You grumbled, "I wish I could." Before you open yourself up to more teasing, you reached up and unlatched your helmet, silently revealing the truth to the knights. "You came to my planet looking for my brother, but you got me instead." You quietly explained, dreading the reactions that were to come.
It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop, and part of you feared that they would kill you on the spot for lying to them. Slowly, your brothers rose to their feet, seemingly sobering up in that moment.
"So for all these years, you've been pretending to be your brother?" Ushar asked, his voice level, so much so that you couldn't read his emotions.
"Yes." You hung your head in guilt.
The ominous silence fell once more, and you couldn't bear it any longer. However, as you opened your mouth to speak, a stifled laugh broke through the crippling silence.
You whipped around and saw Kuruk with a hand covering his mouth. "Sorry it's just-" before he could finish there were more uncontrollable laughs escaping his lips. Clearly this laughter was contagious, because before you knew it it was spreading throughout the room.
"I-I can't believe you said you had taken an oath t-to not take the helmet off!" Ap'lek struggled to get his words out through the laughter, "a kriffing oath!" He exclaimed, leaning on Vicrul who was beside him, as they tried to regain their composure.
"This... is really not the reaction I was expecting." Entirely unsure of what to do, you just stood and stared at them all as they continued to crease in fits of laughter. But after a few moments you found yourself unable to avoid the contagious laughter, but you of all people really had no clue what you found so funny.
You were all in stitches for another few minutes before it died down, and despite the circumstances the laughter made you feel as though some of the weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Knowing that your fellow knights weren't angry at you was a much needed relief.
"So why not tell us the truth?" Vicrul eventually asked once they could form coherent sentences.
"The Knights of Ren was no place for a woman." You sighed, throwing yourself down on the couch with your head in your hands, "I wish I had told you earlier, but I always thought you'd be angry - I really didn't expect the laughing fit."
"C'mon Nuren, you should have known us better than that. No matter what, we're brothers... well, now you're our first sister." Ushar chuckled, giving you a solid pat on the back.
As the others echoed his sentiment, you appreciated more than anything that they weren't treating you any differently just because of your gender. There was still that sense of familiarity, and the brotherhood... it was just a shame you couldn't stay.
"So why tell us now?" Ap'lek eventually asked.
"Master Ren-" your tone immediately became more downcast as you remembered the gravity of the situation, "he found out the truth, and he told me to leave. I thought before I go I at least owed you all the truth."
Glances were exchanged, before Cardo spoke up, "no, we won't let you leave."
Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the gesture, but you couldn't allow yourself to fall into that safety blanket. "Master Ren will have my head if I stay. I betrayed him, and you all know how he responds to betrayal."
"But you forget Nuren, you're a Knight of Ren, and we never leave a brother behind." Trudgen said. "...Or a sister." He then hastened to add.
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It had only been a week since everyone had found out the truth. Whilst your fellow knights actually gotten on better with you now that you could drink and socialise with them, the same could not be said for Kylo Ren.
Firstly, he was less than happy about being undermined when it came to you leaving the base. Now you were a constant reminder of his own empty threat. But more importantly, what you didn't realise was that he wanted you gone more than ever because he was developing an inexplicable attraction to you. The worst part was, it wasn't just physical. Whilst he would sit moping in the corner he could see the way you were around the other knights - they clearly adored you, and the fact that a female presence was actually having a positive effect on the group made it even harder for Ren to despise you. He saw the way you could light up a room, and he couldn't help but want you. He was angry for allowing himself to feel such a way, and that unfortunately manifested itself as anger towards you.
The other knights, meanwhile, couldn't possibly look at you in such a way. Perhaps had they met you for the first time as strangers, they would have relentlessly flirted with you as they did so many other women. But you had all spent too much time together in too many awkward situations to ever see each other as more than adopted-siblings.
You were so relieved to finally be able to relax around the knights, but there was always that tension whenever you were around Master Ren. You had been desperately trying to prove yourself to him to show him that you were the same knight you had always been, regardless of your gender - although deep down you knew that it had nothing to do with the fact you were a woman, it was the fact that you had lied to him...
Although for Kylo it was none of these. He knew he had overreacted when he'd first found out the truth, and now he was relieved that the other knights had vouched for you and made him change his mind and let you stay.
You were all sat in the common area, your legs casually thrown over Trudgen's lap for comfort. You each had a drink in hand, as was standard practise for you all on evenings when you had nothing else to do.
"I seriously don't think I can go much longer putting up with him constantly glaring at me." You scoffed, discussing Kylo's apparent hatred of you.
"Sure he used to do that, but now I don't think he's glaring... I don't know, I'm just not getting the same angry energy off him that I was last week." Ap'lek pondered, shrugging his shoulders.
"What do you mean?" Your brow furrowed, but Kuruk was quick to catch on.
"No, Ap'lek's right. He's not glaring, he's staring." He playfully smacked his forehead, "I can't believe we didn't spot it sooner."
"Holy shit, you're right." Vicrul was next to chime in.
You all had a low-level bond through the Force, so you knew pretty much what they were thinking, but that didn't mean you agreed with them.
"Oh come on, Master Ren won't even talk to me anymore and you think that means he likes me? He literally had his hand around my throat a week ago." You snorted, rolling your eyes.
"Yeah, well maybe you enjoyed that." Trudgen teased you from the other side of the sofa, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, but you swiftly threw a cushion at his face to shut him up.
"It makes so much sense the more I think about it." Ap'lek laughed, shaking his head, "he won't talk to you because he doesn't know how to process emotions. Come on Nuren, when have you ever seen him flirt, or even be nice to a woman?"
Before you could reply, Vicrul summarised it, "it's because he doesn't know how!" At that they all hollered and nudged each other in agreement.
"You're all out of your minds," you laughed, "he wants me dead, not-" before you could finish your sentence with a crude joke, the blast doors flew open to reveal the man himself, and you immediately all fell silent.
It wasn't necessarily unusual for him to come and join you all in your living area, but he hadn't done so since he found out the truth about you. Not to mention, he had picked an awful moment to enter.
"What? You all look like someone's died." He huffed, helping himself to a drink before moving to sit down.
You meanwhile did the opposite and removed your legs from Trudgen's lap and stood up, retiring to your quarters without another word. You didn't particularly want to put up with his glaring, or 'staring' as the knights had now deemed it.
There was nothing to do in your quarters, and you immediately realised that you had just stormed off and now were stuck, so you made a point of dressing in some simple training clothes and heading back out to walk through the common area with your helmet in hand. You pulled it over your head before leaving the rest of the knights alone with Kylo and went off to your training area to run some drills alone.
In your absence, and after their apparent revelation, the other knights decided that that it was time to address the elephant in the room with Kylo.
"Master Ren, you know Nuren thinks that you hate her, right?" Ushar said, to which Kylo just tried to play it off with a nonchalant shrug.
"I don't hate her." He said, his tone not wavering. He certainly didn't want any of them finding out the truth behind his cold behaviour.
"Trust me, we know that." He replied, in a very pointed tone which made it clear that they had worked out the truth about Kylo's feelings, "but she doesn't know that." He then added.
He clearly wanted to protest, but it was obvious that the knights could see right through him and his nonchalance.
They simply all stared at him, expectantly, until eventually Kylo exhaled a heavy sigh, taking a long drink before speaking again. "Fine, I get the point." He rose to his feet, "I'll go and talk to her." He reluctantly agreed to do what he had been dreading. He had no idea how to process any emotion that wasn't anger.
As soon as he left, the knights began discussing every possible outcome. Little did you know that they had practically planned your wedding, since they had decided that not only would you be good for Kylo, he would be good for you.
Blissfully unaware of everything that had just happened, you were alone in the training room swinging a blunt training weapon against a dummy, who was taking the brunt of your frustration. You had left your helmet by the door.
When the blast doors opened to reveal a sheepish looking Kylo Ren, you were less than happy - and it was written all over your face. Nevertheless, you stood to attention.
"Master Ren." You nodded, "I thought you were with the others." You desperately wanted to replicate his bad attitude and make a cutting remark, but you knew that simply wouldn't help your case. No matter what, you had to show respect to your leader.
"I came to talk to you." He said, his tone coming out much darker than intended.
"With all due respect Sir, if you want me to leave that badly, it's the other knights you need to talk to - they're the reason why I'm still here." You relaxed your stance and went back to swinging at the dummy as you spoke.
"That's not it." He said, walking around to stand behind the dummy so he was in your eye-line, "I'm glad you're still here." He eventually admitted, practically through gritted teeth. Every muscle in his body had stiffened.
You stepped back from your training, brow furrowed, "you are?" You hated the way your heart rate increased at his words. Through it all, you still couldn't deny your own attraction to Kylo Ren, perhaps that was why his cold attitude had been so hurtful to you.
"Yes." He plainly said, having no inclination of what else he could possibly say.
"Then why are you acting so off with me?" You hesitantly asked, at which point he looked down at his feet. This had been the question he was hoping you wouldn't ask, because he was afraid to answer it.
"I-" he began, before sealing his lips again. Whatever words he wanted to say simply wouldn't form in his mouth. He was truly tongue-tied, but thankfully his body decided that it was ready to move again - actions did tend to speak louder than words.
Boldly, he moved towards you and captured your lips in a heated kiss, pouring all the words he couldn't say into this gesture.
You were stunned to say the least, your training weapon falling to the floor. But it wasn't long before your lips responded and returned the kiss. Kylo's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him, your hands resting on his chest.
However, it didn't take long for your brain to catch up and you briefly pulled away from his lips for long enough to speak. "So you... like me, like me, and you tried to show me that by being miserable around me?" You asked him, just needing to clarify his odd behaviour.
Suddenly feeling much looser now that he had made a move, he responded with a smirk, "did it work?" He teased.
"Not so much, I think you perhaps need to try being less of an asshole in future Master Ren." You responded with a snarky remark, knowing that you could definitely get away with teasing him now.
"I think from now on, just Kylo is fine." He exhaled a short laugh and leaned back in to kiss you.
It wasn't long before you either had to break away, or have sex right there in the training room and you both silently agreed that the latter wasn't really a practical option.
"Your quarters?"  You prompted, still tangled in his arms.  Really this whole scenario still felt surreal to you.  You had crushed on Kylo Ren for longer than you cared to admit, then when he had found out the truth about your gender he had reacted less than favourably... and now suddenly here you were.  Only he could react to developing feels for you by acting as though he hated you.
His face dropped and he grimaced slightly, "we-uh, we can't."  He sheepishly explained.
"Why not?"  Your brow furrowed, immediately thinking that taking him back to your quarters would be quite an embarrassing affair with all of the other knights being in the common area.
"There are technicians in there repairing Lightsaber damage."  He said it casually, but you could read between the lines well enough to know that 'Lightsaber damage' meant that he'd had a tantrum and trashed his own quarters.
"Are you brave enough to come to my quarters?"  You smirked up at him with an eyebrow raised.
"I think you're overestimating how much they'll care."  He said, and you definitely couldn't fault his optimism, but you knew that the knights most certainly would care.
With the steamy moment beginning to waste away you hastily walked side by side back to the Knights of Ren's common area.  You had your helmet on again as you walked, but as soon as you entered you removed it, and it still felt surreal that you now had that freedom.
"Nuren, is that you?"  Kuruk's voice was the first to call out, none of them turning around from where they sat, still with drinks in hand.
"Yep, it's me."  You quickly said, ushering Kylo into your quarters in the hope that none of them would notice.
"Did you and Master Ren kiss and make up?"  Cardo asked, clearly teasing you, but chose to turn around at simply the perfect moment to catch you in the act.
Halfway through the blast doors to your private quarters you and Kylo froze, and a sheepish grin rose up onto your lips.
"Oh so you literally kissed and made up."  Ushar then said, the smirks appearing on all of their lips foreshadowing some relentless teasing.
"Well... kinda."  You tried to play it off, but before you could make any poor excuses, Kylo simply pulled you through the doors and had his lips on yours as they shut behind you.
As you guided him back towards the bed, you could hear the knights outside loudly wolf-whistling and jeering.
You had only wanted to be able to take your helmet off comfortably around the knights - now you not only had that, you had Kylo Ren too.  In exchange for that you could definitely put up with the teasing from your brothers.
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Analysis on a scene from RWBY
Been a while since I’ve done any meta, and even longer since I’ve done meta just for me and not for a class. I’ve been on a RWBY kick recently, and I’m once again obsessed with Qrow Branwan and thought I’d do a little analysis from Volume 6. Of course there will be spoilers for volume 6 but also a little for volume 7, so I’m gonna put a cut
So I’d like to talk about the scene where Qrow’s trust in Ozpin is completely shattered. It’s quite famously memed. You know the one. (Quick Disclaimer, this is not meant to be a dunk on Ozpin, who’s one of my favorite characters, this is just an analysis on Qrow’s POV)
Jinn pops out being all naked
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And Qrow’s all AVERT EYES
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You know the moment. The whole “oh haha the local gay-leaning Bi-man got enough tiddie for a lifetime now” Or maybe it’s just respecting Jinn’s privacy. Whatever, but in actuality this little moment is less about Jinn herself, and more about Qrow’s entire image and pedestal of Ozpin is being shattered into pieces. 
Let’s look at how much Ozpin really means to Qrow. We all heard Qrow’s little speech at the end of V6E3. How Ozpin was the only one who actually wanted Qrow’s help, trusted him with things, help and things that people likely spent Qrow’s entire life pushing him away from, in addition to making likely more than one scathing comment. Sure, in Volume 4, Jaune might’ve been a bit over emotional at the time, but the first thing he says when Qrow explains his semblence is to passive-aggressively MOCK him, and Qrow just bows down his head and takes it. This is likely something Qrow has heard his entire life and believes about himself. Aka the whole, the only thing he’s good for is for making everything worse. So of course it would make sense that when Ozpin comes knocking at the door, aka the prodigious cute headmaster of beacon academy, and then tells Qrow he can be MORE than just his semblence, MORE than just bad luck for others, that he can actually HELP with Oz’s cause, that Ozpin trusts him, more than other people around him, it’s small wonder Qrow hyper fixates his loyalty on Ozpin, and raises him on a pedestal. Qrow is aware that Ozpin keeps secrets, Qrow even helps him keep those secrets hidden and justifies Ozpin’s decisions, but he never once thought that Ozpin would hide something from him. No not him. Ozpin hides things from others sure, but not Qrow, right? Ozpin trusts Qrow. Ozpin is the only person who completely and whole heartedly trusts Qrow in a way no one ever has before. 
Qrow’s loyalty to Ozpin is so great, that our first introduction to Qrow can arguably be considered an outlier in his usual behavior. Most of the time, Qrow has repeatedly proven himself to be chill, intelligent, patient, and someone who at all times tries to de-escalate the situation, knowing that agitation will attract more grimm. When we meet Qrow? What’s the first thing he does? Get angry-drunk waiting for Winter’s ship to show up, provokes her into starting a fight with him to make her, Atlas and Ironwood look bad, and then proceeds to sass, snark, and call out the ever living hell out of Ironwood. All of this because he was thoroughly pissed off at Ironwood disrespecting Ozpin’s trust. Something Qrow knows Ozpin does not give easily, and something Qrow considers sacred. Qrow only ever shows his brash, impulsive and aggressive side to him when someone is directly challenging Ozpin. Another great example being back in Volume 5, when Qrow is upset at Lionheart for not following Ozpin’s orders and not being even remotely helpful to Ozpin’s cause. 
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Aka, this man who will take jabs at his insecurities lying down, and tries to de-escalate situations, will straight up pick fights and throw hands with anyone who dares challenge Ozpin. The conversation between Qrow and Raven back in Volume 4 also implies that this loyalty to Ozpin could have been the very thing that caused him to completely abandon his family in the bandit tribe (along of course, with a shiny new and better set of morals). Qrow has demonstrated remarkable loyalty towards his new family in Tai, Yang and Ruby, and despite his disagreements with Raven, and disapproval at her life choices, he still hangs onto loyalty to her to a degree. Qrow is easily one of the most loyal people on RWBY, and Ozpin trusting him managed to get him to change his tune about his origins with the bandit tribe and become disloyal to them. That is how much Ozpin means to Qrow. That is how large the pedestal Qrow built for Ozpin is. I’m not going to get into shipping here, and quite frankly, it doesn’t matter if it’s platonic, romantic or just idolization, Qrow seriously loves Ozpin, just as much as he loves his nieces and his family. 
Which leads me back to Qrow getting his loyalty to Ozpin shattered in Volume 6. 
Qrow’s doubts about Ozpin started far earlier than that single moment with Jinn. It starts back on the train when Oz reveals that the grimm are attracted to the lamp. Qrow’s reaction is for the most part innocent, and he might be used to Ozpin revealing information on a strict need to know basis only. Still the surprise on his face that Ozpin withheld information from him is undeniable. 
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His initial reaction is to check in and confirm with Ozpin. While he is gentle, there is a bit of reproach to his tone when he says “Are you serious?” He is clearly unhappy in this moment. It’s important to note that Qrow also crosses his arms here, and remains with his arms crossed for the rest of the scene. Crossed arms can mean a lot of different things for a lot of different people. Oftentimes it’s a sign of a person become defensive, either by physically closing themself off to others, or because they’re suddenly feeling uncomfortable. 
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Of course, he doesn’t get much time to dwell on this at the time because Ruby rightfully points out “HEY, WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING RIGHT NOW, WORRY ABOUT THIS LATER”. This is mostly aimed at the others, who were more vocally upset about Ozpin withholding information, but Qrow remains cross armed in the background. 
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Qrow is just as unhappy at this as the others. 
Of course, later is when things start getting real for our poor bird man. After everyone’s crashed, we’re shown flashbacks of Ozpin explaining the relic of knowledge to the group and by extension Qrow, showing us exactly what Ozpin told them, including but not limited to what the lamp does (not how it works), and that it has no more questions left to answer currently (which we later learn to be a big fat lie on Ozpin’s behalf, like an actual straight up lie). First thing Yang does is complain about their situation, to which Qrow’s immediate response is to tell her to knock it off because they don’t want to attract more grimm, aka trying to deescalate the situation so that they can focus on the least amount of problems as possible. 
Of course, Blake points out that that might not even be relevant since apparently they’ve been attracting grimm that entire time due to the relic’s presence. At this point everyone agrees. We don’t see Qrow’s reaction to this, but he doesn’t vocally disagree with it either. 
This might be a good place to remember that Raven encouraged Yang to not take anything Ozpin said at face value and to question him constantly. Which she absolutely does. It should be important to note that nothing Ozpin told her when she was questioning him for the first time back in volume 5, surprised Qrow. Qrow already knew everything, or at the very least, he thought he already knew everything, which further reinforced to him that Qrow was the person Ozpin told everything, and never lied to. He never had any reason to doubt Ozpin before Yang started bringing these things up on the train and he realized that Ozpin maybe was not being entirely honest with Qrow too.  
While the others are confronting Ozpin after the crash, Qrow is pretty silent, but he can be seen reacting in the background. 
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He’s staring at the ground, listening to what the others are saying, probably thinking about it too, and then he looks at Oscar, wanting Ozpin to explain himself. Once again, Qrow is not jumping to Ozpin’s defense. Hands on hips also has a myriad of meanings in the world of body language, but it’s especially notable for when a person is getting ready to be assertive, aka preparing for some action. I don’t know for sure what Qrow was subconsciously preparing himself for, maybe he didn’t know himself, but he could feel a confrontation coming in which he’d have to pick a side. 
While the team are questioning Ozpin at this time, Ozpin is openly and freely admitting to a few of his lies, and explaining his reasonings behind him, both to the ones the team knew about, and the ones that they had only just discovered. Qrow is still only listening quietly, not really taking any sides yet, but judging by his reactions to the conversation, he’s not liking what’s happening. 
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He seems almost in disbelief, and as if he’s currently unsure of who it is he’s supposed to listen to, or who he’s supposed to be defending right now. He’s not defending the girls, but he’s most definitely not defending Ozpin either (something we’ve seen he’ll easily go up in arms to do). By this point, his loyalty to Ozpin isn’t completely shattered, but it’s in jeopardy. He doesn’t know what he should do. These girls aren’t Ozpin, they haven’t trusted him the way Ozpin has, they haven’t told him he can be more than just his semblence the way Ozpin has, they haven’t told him that he can do good in the world despite of the entirety of his life and what other people have told him. But Ozpin is admitting to lying, coldly justifying his own reasons, and while Qrow was aware of many of these lies and in on them, he’s starting to see some flaws in that reasoning. 
Then of course Ozpin gets distracted at the absence of the relic which is when poop REALLY hits the fan. He had just openly admitted to additionally having even more secrets, and now didn’t want anyone to hold the lamp, which as the others point out, is awfully suspicious if it’s supposedly useless at this time, and how it technically doesn’t matter who carries it since they’re all trustworthy, right? 
Then cute boy Oscar starts taking control of Ozpin from the inside, realizing Ozpin is trying to keep even more secrets from the others. This is the first time Qrow says anything in all of this and it’s just a single questioning, “Oz?”
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He still doesn’t seem particularly happy at how this conversation is going down, and he also hasn’t picked a side yet. He saw a man he was intensely loyal to suddenly act strangely and be under stress. He’s never seen an Ozpin host fight Ozpin before. Despite voicing his concern for Ozpin, he’s clearly still trying to process everything that’s happening, given that his eyes don’t stay solely focused on Ozpin and drift a little before he refocuses back to the moment. 
Then Oscar reveals that to get the lamp to work you have to say Jinn’s name. Qrow did not know this, he seems as puzzled as everyone else when Oscar tells Ruby to say Jinn’s name. 
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And again, he’s waiting and watching quietly. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what side he should be on. For now, he’s just waiting and listening, and getting increasingly more and more uncomfortable with all these revelations. Then Ruby calls Jinn’s name, and everything freezes. 
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Qrow is the first to react beyond just looking up like everyone else. “What?” 
Qrow didn’t know this would happen. Ozpin never told him this would happen. Ozpin never told him that time would stop when you used the lamp. Ozpin told him instead that the lamp was currently on a questions cooldown. His “what” was more about the shock of time stopping which he had no idea what happen, but it was also about realizing that Ozpin had straight up lied right to Qrow’s face and hid something from him. 
And then Jinn comes out.
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Then comes the shot I put way at the beginning of this meta
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Qrow had exactly 0 clue this is what was going to happen if you used the lamp. He had no idea. In this exact moment, he’s not thinking about the large, mystical, blue, naked woman floating in the air right in front of him. He’s thinking “Ozpin didn’t tell me this...” Or maybe “Oz lied to me?” 
Jinn then introduces herself, and while she does so, we can see Qrow still being in complete shock in the background
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Jinn is about to tell them how many questions she can STILL answer this century, when Ozpin interrupts her trying to get her to stop talking, aka very clearly with no room for doubt he is intentionally trying to hide things from everyone there, including Qrow. 
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Qrow is one of the first people to turn around and stare at Ozpin when Ozpin tries to hide more things from them. What’s notable about Qrow’s position here, is that Qrow usually slouches. Maybe it’s a depression thing, maybe it’s a self-loathing thing, maybe it’s a tired thing, maybe it’s all of the above. Qrow is not slouching. He’s standing straight, and even looks like he’s leaning back a little, as if he’s so appalled by Ozpin that he’s trying to create more space between them without stepping away. 
Jinn then reveals that she can still answer two questions this era. Earlier in this episode we were given a flashback of Ozpin telling everyone that all the questions had been used up. In this moment, it becomes crystal clear just how blatant Ozpin has been in his lies, and even worse for Qrow...
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He realizes that Ozpin lied to HIM to his face with a smile. 
Ozpin, the one person who had believed in Qrow, told him that he wasn’t just bad luck, that he could do some good, granted him the ability to turn into a bird, trusted him with secrets, supposedly was the person Ozpin trusted so much that Qrow was tasked with carrying Oz’s staff until he reincarnated... Ozpin had lied to him. This is truly the nail in the coffin for Qrow. He’s now chosen his side and is not going to support Ozpin. 
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He’s feeling betrayed by Ozpin, and in all likelihood, is also feeling used. He turns to say something to Ruby. What it is he was planning on saying we’ll never know because the others immediately jump on him the second he opened his mouth. 
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We can hardly blame them since, as I’ve previously established, Qrow is known for picking fights and throwing hands on Ozpin’s behalf despite usually being calm and level-headed. It’s usually the only thing that can get him to act out. Still, I highly doubt by this point that he was actually going to support Ozpin. I think he wanted actual answers just as much as everyone else, and was actually going to suggest to Ruby to ask Jinn exactly what she did in the episode. However, when the others threaten him, Qrow instead aims for de-escalating the situation, calmly putting his hands up, not even questioning the others’ threats, and voicing his support for Ruby. 
As I previously stated, Qrow will, on average, aim to deescalate a situation above all else. The only exceptions have been when it was unavoidable (such as fighting Tyrian) or when Ozpin was being disrespected. This is something that has been very consistent with his characterization throughout the series. The fact that at this moment, Ozpin has basically been dragged through the mud and berated by others right in front of Qrow, and not only did Qrow not do ANYTHING to help Ozpin, instead just listen quietly, trying to determine what his own actions should be, he also did not lash out aggressively at anyone, instead aiming for his usual, deescalate the situation. This says absolute volumes for him to do a complete 180 on what’s been established to be his usual behavior in regards to his loyalty to Ozpin. 
Of course, as we all know, Qrow is trying to be the bigger person, in this situation, but when Jinn starts telling everyone exactly what Ozpin was hiding from them, it pushes Qrow past his patience. 
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He had absolutely no clue about any of this. He was just as confused and lost as everyone else
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Which, again, I know this is a highly memed moment because Qrow is essentially checking Ozma out, but consider for a second that he’s genuinely trying to understand what is happening, trying to come to terms that this man here is the real Ozpin, the real man he came to know, love and trust. And here he was not knowing anything about him, unable to even recognize him. 
Most of V6E3 is focused on Ozma and Salem, while occasionally showing everyone else’s reactions. While I’m not going to sit here and analyze why each character was chosen specifically for each scene, but I will point out that probably the reactions we saw were deliberate and personal for each character. Qrow only shows up in this moment right here, when he’s introduced to the OG Oz, probably because out of all the characters there, he was the one who was closest to Ozpin, and narratively was seeing him with new eyes, which then was represented visually by the real original version of Ozpin, aka a new person he didn’t know. Qrow isn’t even present for the reveal that Oz can’t destroy Salem, because to him the information and revelations themselves matter less than the fact that he spent all these years believing that Ozpin trusted him like no one else ever had, and believed in him like no one else ever had, only to discover that not only had that trust, and vulnerability been increadibly one sided, but that Ozpin had straight up lied to Qrow. The person Qrow looked up to and trusted the MOST, LIED TO HIM, and not just about one little thing, about almost literally everything. 
Qrow can’t even bring himself to look at Ozpin after the reveal of everything, he has his back turned. 
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The others are just further interrogating Ozpin at this point, upset at how much he had hid from them. Qrow is the only one not speaking. As a matter of fact, Qrow’s first immediate reaction is to give Ozpin a solid punch to the face before lamenting how Ozpin hurt him personally. He didn’t yell at Ozpin, except for the punch, he was pretty non-aggressive, aka the quiet type of upset, disappointed, and angry. In a way, Qrow’s softness almost hurts more than it would’ve had he been yelling at Ozpin. It shows just how far his trust and loyalty to Ozpin has been broken. 
Now, I don’t think Qrow was particularly in the right to just dock Ozpin because that also means he’s landing a solid blow to Oscar, who’s barely figured out how to use his semblence as a shield, and was trying to HELP them this whole time. However, given everything I just explored, it does make complete narrative sense. Qrow was feeling very hurt and very betrayed by likely the person he trusted the most. He was acting pretty passively up until this point, and I think that his breaking point when he could no longer contain himself was seeing for himself everything that Ozpin was hiding, but especially that Ozpin didn’t have any real plan to defeat Salem. Ozpin was constantly telling Qrow that he could do good in this world, despite his semblence. That he could save people, make lives better, and then he finds out that Ozpin can’t defeat Salem, which could make that previous sentiment feel pretty manipulative and deceitful in order to gain Qrow’s alliance and loyalty. In short, Qrow feels used, betrayed, and that he’s been wasting his time doing absolutely nothing worthwhile that could help. That was his one thing that helped him keep chugging through everything. “At least I can do some good” but it turns out, even that’s a lie. 
All of this is so devastating for Qrow, that he reacts the only way he knows how and falls even deeper into his depression and alcoholism, and spends the entire rest of the volume being The Load on the team. This “betrayal” has messed him up, shaken him to his very core. While it was uncool of him to further shut himself out from people who were trying to help him like Ruby, and to isolate himself and sulk, it is understandable. If it’s true that Ozpin was the person Qrow valued and trusted the most, and was likely the person closest to Ozpin besides Glynda, then it would make sense that Qrow had also been emotionally vulnerable with Ozpin. It can take a while for a person to bounce back after an apparent “betrayal” of someone they used to be so close to, and being emotionaly vulnerable with others, might lead them to reminisce on a person they don’t want to think about. Which would explain, that despite how much Qrow loves Ruby and Yang, that he couldn’t bring himself to open up to them. Instead going for the trying to not deal with reality by being black out drunk “coping mechanism” (someone please get this man some therapy and a new liver)
This post was pretty bash-y on Ozpin, so in Ozpin’s defense, I don’t necessarily blame him for his secrecy. As Ozpin pointed out, he’d been betrayed multiple times throughout his lives, he’s experienced many things, he’s likely tried multiple different approaches, which has led him to his current conclusion that he must play things close to the chest and keep information on a need to know basis only. However, when Ozpin was first explaining his cycle of reincarnation, one of the first things he says, “I am changed”. Given how badly keeping secrets has backfired on him in Volume 6, and how Oscar keeps being resident good boy, I do think Ozpin will grow and change in future volumes.  
In addition, as many people have pointed out, Ozpin only retreats back into Oscar, AFTER Qrow calls Oz out and tells him how much Ozpin hurt him. Ozpin did genuinely care about Qrow, and was devastated when Qrow finally turned on him. Ozpin trusted Qrow to be the one to carry his staff until he reincarnated, that says a lot. Ozpin spent a lot of late nights chatting with Qrow during Volume 5, and just spending time together. Qrow’s insane loyalty to him probably didn’t go by unnoticed either. Ozpin genuinely trusted Qrow a lot, and valued him as a person. While Qrow certainly doesn’t view it this way, Ozpin did 100% believe that Qrow was doing good in the world by helping him, and even gave him some magic as a gift. He also gave that to Raven, who ultimately left, and this is one of the driving points of conflict between Qrow and Raven, BUT STILL. Ozpin trusted Qrow enough to give him magic. Ozpin probably spent a lot of time is Oscar’s head reevaluating what his secrecy has done TO Qrow, and also to his relationship with Qrow. The series makes it very clear that Ozpin gives people choices and doesn’t judge them on their decisions, Qrow had the choice to leave at any point in time, to leave Ozpin, just like Raven, but he didn’t. Even though Qrow feels manipulated and used by Ozpin, that doesn’t mean that that’s what Ozpin was doing. Everything about their relationship Qrow probably chose. It’s unfortunate that Ozpin was going around with half-truths and secrets that led to this moment. I wonder how this Oz-Qrow relationship will further develop in Volumes 8+, especially considering Qrow’s currention emotional and mental state and Ozpin’s return. 
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hartigays · 4 years
Note
ooh if you’re still doing the fluff/angst prompts could you do 14 + harringrove? I love your writing and you could do something amazing with this 🖤
14. “Get your hands off of me!”
“harrington, what the hell are you doing?”
steve doesn’t answer, not bothering to look up. he’s focused intently on the row of dominos that he’s carefully setting up, his tongue poking out and his brow furrowed in concentration.
“voilà!” steve shouts, finally getting the last domino in place. he claps his hands and rubs them together in anticipation.
billy arches a brow, giving steve a bored look. but steve doesn’t pay him any mind, just tiptoes carefully over the dominos weaving around the living room of their apartment, kneeling down and counting backwards from three before setting them in motion.
it takes all of thirty seconds for the carefully constructed line to fall, but steve still looks at billy with a goofy smile, his eyebrows raised in question. as if to silently ask pretty cool, huh?
“oh, come on,” steve huffs at the unimpressed look billy levels him with. “that was at least kind of cool, admit it.”
“you spent three hours setting that up,” billy points out. “instead of taking out the trash. like i asked you to do earlier. three hours earlier, to be exact.”
it’s steve’s turn to roll his eyes. he spins on his heel and flops backward onto the couch. “whatever. time is arbitrary in quarantine.”
“don’t whatever me,” billy says with a sniff, examining his cuticles. “just clean it up before bed. i don’t want to come out here for water in the middle of the night and break my ass slipping on a fuckin’ domino.”
“fine, mom.” steve tosses a tennis ball in the air as he speaks, making faces at the ceiling like a child. “whatever you say.”
billy moves to lean over steve on the couch, flicking him on the forehead while flashing a toothy grin. “damn right.”
it’s been three weeks since the governor issued an official stay-at-home order. three weeks of binging netflix, playing video games, and scrolling through the same few social media apps over and over.
steve had grown antsy and stir-crazy by the end of week one, needing to find some new activity or another to occupy his mind and body to keep from going nuts.
billy, on the other hand, has kept himself busy with a stack of books about a mile high, and his at-home workout routines. steve’s also been eating better, given the amount of cooking billy’s been doing now that he’s home full time.
while steve bounces from one activity to another, restless and understimulated, billy seems to be transitioning easily into their new way of life, as he tends to do with most things.
steve is only a little bitter.
“how are you not bored out of your mind?” steve gripes. he tosses the tennis ball onto the armchair adjacent to the couch, already tired of it.
billy had moved into the kitchen, and he looks up from the cookbook he’d been flipping through. “i dunno. ‘s not so bad. i can sleep in now, cook dinner more. i even learned how to make paella recently.”
“the fuck is paella?” steve snorts, sitting up on his elbows to stare at billy over the back of the couch.
“it’s going to be dinner tonight,” billy says easily, shrugging. “it’s good, trust me.”
steve just shrugs, flopping back down and closing his eyes. he doesn’t care what billy puts in front of him - the less he has to cook, the better. it’s just not in his wheelhouse.
besides, billy is a natural cook. there hasn’t been anything he’s made that steve’s been unimpressed with. so he leaves billy to do his thing, pulling out his phone and scrolling through twitter, half-listening to the familiar sound of billy puttering around the kitchen.
steve spends a few hours going between napping and mindlessly scrolling through his phone. by the time he pushes himself off the couch with a yawn and a stretch, it’s already getting dark outside. he shuffles into the kitchen, following the delicious smells coming from within.
billy’s still cooking away, his brow furrowed in concentration. he’s stirring something on the stove, poring over the recipe in the cookbook before him. he looks incredibly in his element, moving about with ease, seamlessly transitioning from one task to the next.
steve doesn’t think it’s weird that he could watch billy do this all day. it’s always nice to see someone doing something they’re passionate about with such dedication. and if there’s a secret part of him that has an innate appreciation for billy in an apron, well.
sue him.
it’s not like finding billy attractive is anything new to steve. it’s the 21st century, steve tends not to dwell on those kinds of things. he doesn’t, however, feel the need to clue billy in to those particularly appreciative thoughts about him in his cooking attire.
they’re stuck in isolation together for the foreseeable future. there’s no sense in stirring up trouble or discomfort - they’ve got enough going on already. steve’s not-so-G-rated thoughts about billy and his apron aren’t between anyone but him and god himself.
he just admires from afar, trying to not indulge too often in his racy thoughts about his roommate, who also happens to be his long-time best friend.
it’s no secret, however, that those thoughts had been easier to ignore before, when they spent a large part of their days apart. billy would be at work or in class and steve could always be found guiding himself through his own busy schedule.
as university students, they’d had pretty chaotic lives before the world came to a grinding halt. they were both generally busy with their own lives, and steve had enough going on that he didn’t often have time to dwell on how his thoughts were increasingly crossing the line between friendship and something more.
and just because they’re now together 24/7, with all the time in the world for steve to confront the reality of his little predicament, it doesn’t mean steve is worried. not at all. not even a little bit.
steve has this silly idea that maybe if he says it enough times, he’ll start to believe it.
“smells good in here,” steve comments. he leans up against the counter next to the stove, peering over billy to sneak a peek at what he’s working on.
billy pauses his stirring, scooping a small portion of what looks like rice onto his spoon and holding it up to steve’s lips. he lets billy pop the bite into his mouth, his eyes lighting up at the burst of flavor that spreads across his tongue. whatever it is, it’s delicious. steve licks his lips appreciatively.
“yum.”
billy just nods, looking pleased. “it’ll be ready in about ten minutes. hey, grab me a beer, will you?”
steve grabs two beers from the fridge, passing one off to billy and cracking the other one open for himself. he heads back into the living room, curling back up on the couch and scrolling through netflix.
by the time he manages to find a documentary that they haven’t seen before, billy’s walking into the living room, balancing two plates in his hands. his beer is stuffed in the crook of his elbow, and steve sits up to grab the plate from billy before he can spill beer all over the floor.
“what’d you pick out?” billy asks once they dig in, nodding at the television.
steve swallows a mouthful of food, giving a satisfied hum of approval. “some new nature documentary. i think it’s about whales or sharks or something like that.”
“sounds like a real fleshed-out choice,” billy snorts, but he doesn’t object to steve’s selection.
“hey, you’re the one who’s always complaining that we waste so much time scrolling through the same stuff every day,” steve points out. “i’m just saving us the trouble.”
billy just huffs out a laugh before taking a swig of his beer. “i never said not having to scroll for an hour was a bad thing.”
the lapse into silence as the show starts, watching with meager interest as the intro credits begin. it’s quiet until steve takes a particularly delicious bite of his food, practically moaning around his spoon.
“this is delicious, by the way,” steve says, glancing over at billy. “what’d you say this is called?”
billy’s giving him a strange look, one that has steve’s cheeks heating up and the tips of his ears turning pink.
“paella,” billy answers finally, clearing this throat and averting his eyes
steve stares at billy for a moment longer, opening his mouth to speak before realizing he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, letting it fall shut again.
there’s a weird tension hanging between them for the rest of the night. steve tries not to fixate on it, but it’s hard when he’d picked out the most boring documentary in the history of time itself.
billy doesn’t even meet his eyes when he says goodnight later, after they’ve watched a few episodes and cleaned up the kitchen. steve can’t help but wonder if maybe he said something wrong without realizing it, watching billy retreat to the safety of his bedroom.
steve tosses and turns for most of the night, plagued by incredibly weird and startlingly vivid dreams. dreams about monsters that lurk in the shadows and kids with superpowers and bad men in their secret labs. similar to the ones he had back in high school, back when his life was turned inside out and upside down. only these are brighter, more intense, somehow weirder than before.
there’s a gasp dying on steve’s lips when he bolts upright in bed, the image of a hyper-realistic demogorgon with a decaying human face that he’s uncomfortably sure was barb’s still burned into his mind. he’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his stomach churning. his mouth is unbelievably dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of it.
steve pushes his sweat-matted hair from his forehead, climbing out of bed and padding into the kitchen. he gulps down two glasses of water, trying to will away the trembling of his hands.
it’s when he’s walking back to his room that he slips on something, crashing backward and busting his ass hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. steve’s tailbone collides with the ground first, followed by his elbows, and then his head.
steve groans, pushing himself up off the ground. he feels lightheaded and disoriented, the back of his head throbbing something awful. distantly, steve hears what sounds like a door opening, followed by footsteps.
the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up when someone crouches down beside him. steve can’t get his eyes to focus while he’s this dizzy and the room is this dark. he jumps nearly a foot in the air when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.
“get your hands off of me!” steve yelps, smacking the mystery hands away from him and scooting across the floor to put distance between him and the body hovering next to him.
“hey, hey, steve, calm down, it’s just me. it’s just billy.”
steve squints through the darkness, his heart hammering in his chest. he can finally make out the defining features of the person that is most definitely billy, crouching in front of him and looking at him with a mixture of pure bewilderment and what he’s pretty sure is worry.
groaning, steve rubs the back of his head with a grimace. “ow...”
“told you to clean the damn dominos up,” billy mutters, sitting back on his heels as he tilts steve’s head down, examining the damage. “did you hit it hard?”
steve just nods, wincing as he does. “yeah. hit my ass and elbows harder, though.”
billy huffs out a soft laugh, taking steve’s bicep and lifting his arm to inspect his elbow.
“i think you’ll live,” billy says after a few moments, letting steve’s arm drop. “the hell were you doing wandering around the house in the dark at three in the morning, anyway?”
“i was getting some water,” steve tells him, rubbing his elbow with a frown. “i was having really weird dreams. i feel dizzy, are you sure i don’t have a concussion?”
billy shifts closer, trying to move steve’s mass of hair enough to look more closely at the lump on the back of his head.
“well, you’re not bleeding. if you have a concussion, it’s mild,” billy says with a shrug. “but i think you’re in the clear. what kind of dreams were they?”
steve doesn’t say anything for a moment before giving a halfhearted shrug. “same dreams i always have. they were just, like....super vivid this time, you know?”
“might’ve been the shellfish in the paella,” billy muses, humming thoughtfully. “certain foods can give you more vivid dreams, almost like fever dreams. shellfish are a pretty common culprit.”
billy takes one last look at the back of steve’s head before grabbing his hand, tugging him up off the ground. steve’s head swims once he’s upright, and he tips forward, crashing directly into billy. billy’s arms go around him immediately, holding him steady.
“you okay?” billy asks, his brows furrowed in concern.
steve blinks rapidly, his brain slowly catching up to the position he’s currently in. he feels the tips of his ears get hot, disentangling himself from billy and backing away, putting several feet of distance between them.
“yeah, i - um. sorry, that wasn’t intentional.”
steve averts his eyes, though billy’s stay trained on steve, that strange look from before back on his face. something shifts in his expression, billy giving him a thoughtful look.
“on second thought,” billy says finally, “you should crash in my room. so i can keep an eye on you. wouldn’t want you nursing a head injury alone, in case anything happens.”
“the hell do you mean, if anything happens?” steve questions, his hand flying up to the back of his head. he opens his mouth to ask another panicked question, but it closes quickly once he realizes what billy is offering. “wait, you mean you want me to stay with you? in your bed? like, together?”
“sure, if you want,” billy says, sounding casual while looking anything but. “you know, for safety.”
“for safety,” steve repeats slowly, swallowing thickly. “okay. okay, yeah. do you think i might need - um. mouth-to-mouth? for safety?”
steve’s heart is hammering in his chest before the question fully leaves his mouth. billy just stares at him for a long moment, before cracking a goofy grin, giving him a slightly disbelieving look. “steve, that is the corniest fucking thing you have ever said.”
“oh, shut up. i have a traumatic brain injury,” steve counters with an unimpressed sniff, trying to play it off like his heart doesn’t feel like it’s about to beat right out of his chest. “sue me.”
“right, your horrific bump on the head,” billy nods, fighting a smile. “guess you should come over here and let me take another look. for safety, of course.”
“safety’s very important,” steve acknowledges as he crosses the room, slowly putting one foot in front of the other.
steve stops short in front of billy, hesitating. billy closes the remaining distance, reaching up to gently feel the bump on the back of steve’s head, though his eyes never leave steve’s.
“that really is a nasty knot,” billy says offhandedly, a flicker of concern appearing in his eyes and disappearing just as quickly. “maybe some ice would help?”
“thought you were writing me a prescription for something else,” steve mumbles.
billy looks momentarily confused, before steve closes the distance and seals their lips together. billy yields almost instantaneously, his mouth opening to steve as if they’ve done this a million times before.
now that he’s face-to-face with it, steve isn’t sure how he was able to dance around it for so long. billy’s lips are soft and pliant beneath his, and he kisses steve languidly, like they have all the time in the world and he knows it. he has one hand curled into steve’s hair, the other splayed across his jaw. when billy nips at steve’s bottom lip, it sends sparks skittering down steve’s spine and goosebumps erupting across his skin.
all steve can see, smell, and taste is billy and he’s dizzy with it, unsteady on his feet. which could be attributed in part to steve’s little bump on the head, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind to worry about later. he sways a little, causing their mouths to break apart. billy takes steve’s hand keeping him steady.
“c’mon, let’s get you to bed,” billy says, his breathing a little ragged. “you can get the full hargrove treatment in the morning, when you’re not borderline concussed.”
“you’re the one who’s getting a medical degree,” steve protests, even as billy pulls him to his bedroom. “i was just following the doctor’s orders.”
“right, well. this doctor is ordering you to lay down and get some sleep,” billy counters. he helps steve climb into bed, scooting in next to him once steve has slid over to give him some room.
billy lets steve wrap himself around him like a koala without protest, only humming softly in approval.
“maybe quarantine’s not so bad,” steve muses after a few beats of silence, yawning.
“you’re just saying that because you get to kiss me every day now.”
“that so?” steve asks, chuckling softly. “guess that means i should get some sleep so i can be well-rested for a big day of kisses tomorrow.”
“go to sleep, harrington,” billy snorts, burying his face into steve’s neck.
“‘night billy.”
“sweet dreams, princess.”
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danger-xylophones · 4 years
Text
A Chance Encounter Part 3
{masterlist}
Words: 1635
Warnings: A cauterizer, badly explained medical attention, a made-up planet, mentions of angst, bit of an age gap, the reader is being a bit rude, unedited
Notes: Mazarem is a made-up planet because I didn’t feel like trying to shoe-horn the reader into the lore of an already existing one. 
Taglist: @aberionart // @shaak-ti-s
<- Previous
……………………………………
Cato Neimoidia was a bust as well. 
Savage had told you that he’d stay out of sight. He’d told you that if he did get spotted, he’d take measures to not be recognized. He told you he’d try to avoid picking a fight for both your sakes. And it had all gone to skrag while you were out gathering supplies. You came back to three squadrons of battle droids surrounding your ship and firing on your travel companion and you had seen red. That ship was a gift (albeit a gift you’d stolen)-if any of them scratched it…
You carefully tucked your latest haul away somewhere easy for you to find while you reached into your coat for your blaster. It looked like Savage was handling his situation but you could at least lend a hand-the battledroids most likely didn’t know you were there which gave you the advantage. You were suddenly grateful for the copious amounts of crates surrounding the shipyard you had landed in as they provided excellent cover for you while you poked your head out to shoot at the droids. Most of your shots, while not always 100% accurate, were at least effective as they provided a distraction for Savage as the tinnies’ focus was pulled in two different directions, giving him the opening he needed to cut the droids down. A few droids, however, got wise to your location and opened fire on you. A few stray blasts whizzed by your face, superheating the air as they passed till it felt like you had stuck the side of your face in the oven. But you were quick to duck away and return the blast in kind. 
Only when the last droid had fallen with a shriek as it was sliced in half did you step out of your hiding spot. “I thought I asked you to stay out of trouble.” You commented to the yellow zabrak as he regained his breath. He chose to ignore it as he put the lightsaber back on its hook. With the all-clear signal from him, you approached and quickly scanned him for injuries. For the most part, he was in better shape compared to the last time the two of you stopped on a planet, the most noticeable thing being Savage’s labored breaths-odd to you considering he was incredibly athletic but you elected to chock that up to the warm temperature and high elevation. After all, he was a zabrak with two hearts; he would probably have a harder time getting the oxygen he needed while you both remained in one of the suspended bridge cities. 
Savage suddenly raised his right hand to his mouth and began to cough into his fist and that was when your brain kicked back into action. With a shake of your head, you turned and strode over to where you had hidden away your last batch of supplies before returning to Savage to open the ship up. With a sweep of your hand, you beckoned for Savage to board first and he did so willingly making it easy to tell that he was quite fed up with the Neimoidian inhabited planet. As you fell in behind him, though, you noticed a trickle of a bright red running down Savage’s arm. “Uh, Savage?” 
“Hmm?” The zabrak grumbled as he turned to face you but you were already in motion, grabbing his hand to bring his arm up to examine it. There was a dark stain running along the length of his forearm that was more than a little worrisome. “Oh, that. I cut myself on a broken droid. Not...it’s not an issue.” Savage grumbled lowly as you carefully peeled the sleeve away only to stifle a gasp. The gash, while not deep was long and ugly, sadly not a clean cut. 
“Not...Not an issue? Savage,...” you sighed and carefully pulled on his arm to lead him to the med bay where you had better lighting. “Savage, you’re lucky I went shopping today-it’s going to have to be cauterized.” The male zabrak put up no resistance as you whisked him away and forced him to take a seat so you could clean out the wound. When you finished sterilizing it, you turned to rifle through the bag of newly purchased medical supplies, searching for the cauterizer you had spent nearly an hour bartering for. You were hyper-aware of Savage’s gaze fixated on your every move. When you had found it, you carefully took a seat beside him and laid his arm over your lap. “This is gonna hurt like hell. Tell me to stop if it gets to be too much.” You raised your gaze to his vibrant yellow eyes which had dulled considerably from exhaustion, you found that you missed their normal brightness. “Ready?” You kept your voice soft as you spoke and Savage gave a firm nod. You started the cauterizer up. 
Savage, who had been relaxed for the most part, immediately tensed up as the knife met the torn flesh and he let out a low, pained grunt that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. But you had to keep going for his sake. To his credit, Savage did his best to keep his arm lax though it was inevitable that his hand would curl into a fist which forced you to stop for a few moments till he relaxed. After the third barely pause, you removed the cauterizer to speak, the wound barely half-way closed. “I’m sorry, Savage. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you but I have to seal the wound” You articulated softly, letting your unoccupied hand to brush over his clenched fist, “it’ll be fine.” Stillness settled over the two of you while you allowed Savage the chance to regain his breath through quiet, uncomfortable grunts. Barely raising your voice to be heard, you ventured to ask him, “Do you want to hold onto something?” Your intention was to seek out a shirt or blanket or something for the zabrak to worry between his fingers when he found the urge to tear away from you as you sutured him up. You did not intend for him to nod unsteadily as he took your free hand and wrapped his own around it, dwarfing it completely. ...Aight… You swallowed the lump that jumped into your throat at the firm grasp he had on your hand and attempted to go about closing his wound. But, it was rather difficult considering that every time the tip of the medical tool met his tattooed skin, he would tense his fist which threatened to break the bones in your hand. You were beginning to regret offering.
After what felt like hours (though, in actuality, it was only about a minute and a half), you were finally able to extricate your hand from Savage’s vice-like grip to flex the now aching muscles. Whilst struggling not to comment on the state of your appendage, you turned away from the large male to seek out some bandages and bacta. Though, as you refused to look at him, you were all too aware of the golden fury of his eyes remaining trained on you as you meticulously wrapped his arm. “Y/n,...” He finally rumbled as the bandage was being tied off, “where did you learn all of this?” 
“...all of what?” You hummed, mind already working to escape this road of questioning from your male counterpart.
“Everything: how to pilot, shoot, navigate,...heal. Where did you learn all of it?” Savage pressed, using his unrestrained hand to make a roundabout gesture as he spoke. 
You pressed your lips into a firm line as you debated how much information to reveal. You trusted Savage (at least enough to not kill you in your sleep) but you weren’t sure you trusted him enough to divulge that precious scrap of information regarding your journey before you crossed paths with him. Besides, there seemed to be this unspoken agreement between you that dictated that neither of you would stick your noses where they didn’t belong. This silent covenant had worked beautifully for the last three and a half weeks so why was he trying to break it right now? 
“I...I learned it back...home.” You settled on that. Your voice was a little unsteady as your mind inevitably dwelled on the flashes of light, prolonged screams, and the horrid stench of charred skin and dried blood you now associated your home with. “Mazarem.” Could it even be considered your home any more? You’d left...forced to or not, that fact did not change. 
“Mazarem?” Savage probed, you nodded to confirm that that was the name you had uttered. “Where is that? I’m afraid I’ve never heard of it.” 
“It’s on the edge of the unknown regions,...it’s still pretty undeveloped. The Mazaremi weren’t space-faring till some thirty-years ago.” You explained delicately whilst wishing the yellow zabrak would just let you drop the conversation. “We weren’t recognized as an official government until I was five, I think.” But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon if you were going by the curious tilt of his head. 
Savage blinked at while he processed the information. “Five?” It was rhetorical but you still nodded. “How old are you now?” 
You groaned internally. Why was he so curious about you all of a sudden? “Twenty-six.” But, in spite of your annoyance at his inordinate nosiness, you found yourself answering. Abruptly getting to your feet, you began to whisk yourself away from him. “Well, seeing as you’re all patched up, I’ll go about getting us off this skughole. Where are we going, Savage?” 
From behind you, Savage sighed heavily and you could hear the cot squeak as his weight was removed. “Tattooine.” Oh, great, the hunters’ homestead. 
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