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#anyway im probably running out of tags and i could be here for hours typing shit in here
jangofctts · 3 years
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Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)
Rated: explicit 18+
word count: 7.6k
warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)    
a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT  
There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace. 
Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy. 
Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.    
The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.   
The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.” 
“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”
She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”
Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.
Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.       
Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—
Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it. 
Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.     
Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“
The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.
You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”
The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”
The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…  
You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”
As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”
Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.” 
He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.  
“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“
He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.” 
You smile. “Lovely.” 
On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like  a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.  
                                        -=-=-=-
Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality. 
Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.     
That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.” 
You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”
The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—  
There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home. 
You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.  
His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.
You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”
Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”
He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare. 
“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”
Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“
Din tips his head in acknowledgement. 
“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.” 
Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors. 
“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.” 
The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.        
“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”
Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.  
Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—   
With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.  
Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot. 
Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away. 
Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle. 
You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder. 
Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”
Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.   
“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.” 
A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”
Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.     
Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”
He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”
Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.” 
Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat. 
You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.      
Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”
Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”
With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—        
“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."
Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder. 
“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”
Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind. 
You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile. 
Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.  
You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll. 
It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit. 
“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“
“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”
The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak. 
“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement. 
You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses. 
Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short. 
Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”  
You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more. 
Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains. 
“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”
Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.         
Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his  calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself. 
Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist.  Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”
He nods and utters a breathy yes. 
Fuck yeah.    
Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock. 
Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh. 
Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—    
Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge. 
It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.     
Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.   
He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.” 
Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.   
Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.   
“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation. 
Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.” 
Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”
“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from  your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.   
“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark. 
Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now. 
Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.      
You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.  
Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?   
Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs. 
“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question. 
Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command. 
Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.   
As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.    
You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff. 
Fuck, you need more.   
Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.    
He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight. 
That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you. 
You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 
“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 
Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.    
“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.        
You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.  
Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”
You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“ 
His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.” 
Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs. 
Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.  
Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days. 
Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.          
Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs. 
“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”
Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much. 
“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”      
You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.” 
Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.       
You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”
The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.   
“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”
Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.    
The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat. 
“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“
“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“
Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.” 
There we go. 
You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes. 
You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness. 
“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile. 
You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep. 
taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb   @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeaches @pettyprocrastination @nelba @beskars @jango-fettish @corrupt-fvcker @maybege @auty-ren @legally-a-bastard @bigdickdindjarin @thesparkleslugs @cryptid-candy @mandowhorian @pascaliprincess @mitchi-c @vesperstalksclones @cmakars @cptnbvcks @whewchiles @leias-left-hair-bun @astrochellie @angryares @rise-my-angel @stardust-galaxies @phoenixhalliwell @samhollandssweaters @blue-writes-a03 @hdlynnslibrary @darthadeline @calamity-queen @luxurybeskar @justanotherblonde23 @book-hoardingdragon @fahrenheit-not @princessxkenobi @skdubbs @ben-is-a-hoe @3strogen @chasingdreamer @weebblossom @bobaandthefetts​
sorry if I missed you AH!!!!
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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VALERIE - Part V. (Harry Styles)
happy sunday loves!! part 5 is here, buckle up bc we are getting down to business here!! thank you so much for the nice feedbacks, it’s always so moving and inspiring to read your thoughts, so please keep them coming! even if it’s just some gibberish rambling, those are the best haha! now let’s jump right into part 5, we are heading into the christmas mood and im so excited for yall to read this part!! enjoy!
word count: 6.1k
SERIES MASTERPOST
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By the time November nears its end you officially become a couple with Marcus. It happens gradually, two more dates follow your first one, and then on the third one you agree to test the waters of the possibilities between the two of you exclusively. 
Marcus is a great guy. He is funny, caring and smart, always listens to you and cares for even the smallest details about you when you’re talking. He is great company and never fails to make you feel appreciated and wanted. Exactly what you’ve been looking for in a guy, Rosa really hit the nail on the head this time. 
You easily fall into a habit with him. Fridays are for date nights, sometimes you go for little trips outside the city on Sundays and he never misses a chance to send you flowers throughout the week. He is just the type of guy that’s always there to cheer you up with something whenever the days start to weigh down on your shoulders. 
You even have dinner together with Rosa and Steven one Saturday evening, Rosa keeps giving you those ‘I told you so’ eyes whenever Marcus kisses you shortly or places his hand to your waist. You mostly just roll your eyes at her, not wanting to make a big deal out of the two of you, but Rosa knows how long you’ve been trying to find someone. 
What’s a surprising turn is that you start seeing Harry more. Intentionally. You have no idea how it happens, but it does and you’re not mad about it. Some days you grab lunch together whenever he is in the neighborhood, some days you go shopping with him when his sister doesn’t have the time. Harry is a problematic shopper, he takes a long time to decide on clothes so usually you are the one that forces him to choose and finish before all shops close. 
When he has had a rough week and you happened to call him for whatever reason, the two of you agree to meet up for drinks at his place, then end up playing UNO for hours, slowly emptying out two bottles of wine.
It’s starting to get harder to imagine what it was like when things weren’t like this with him. When you were getting anxiety from just the thought of seeing him or having to talk to him. It’s like the both of you are showing a different version of yourselves to each other and you have to admit you enjoy being friends with him. 
He keeps his habit of teasing you and making jokes about you though, but you don’t mind it. He is not doing it in a mean way with the attempt to piss you off, but to make you laugh and start a playful war where you both throw insults at each other until one of you runs out of it and just starts laughing. You feel a kind of dynamic building between you and him that has a way better effect on you than the continuous killing you were doing before.
You can tell Rosa is thankful for the change as well. Whenever she sees you interact with Harry without making a grimace or have that face that screams how badly you want to hit him, she is relieved that she has one less thing to worry about and Valerie will have two amazing godparents who even like each other.
Christmas is always a big parade in your family. Your mom and your aunts always want to celebrate together so in the past few years it has become a tradition to rent a place out that has enough space for the whole extended family and spend three days there from the 23rd to the 25th. This year your dad found a huge cabin in the woods with ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms, just the perfect size for you all. It’s gonna be your parents, Rosa and Steven with Valerie, Aunt Monica, Aunt Teresa with Uncle Andrew, your cousin Etta, her husband Joe and their two kids, your other cousin Lily with her husband Jeremy and their daughter, and lastly you and Harry.  Though your mom urged you to invite Marcus along as well, he could join you for longer than a dinner, since he was already set to fly home to his family.
“You sure he can’t stay for at least the first night?” you mom asks on the phone one evening. You’re stirring the sauce in the pan. holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder so you have both of your hands free.
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine, he can come for dinner and then leave later.”
“I get it, but it would have been fun if he stayed,” she sighs, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t change what’s already set. If you’re being honest you don’t mind that Marcus is not staying for the night. You haven’t been dating for that long, you feel like it would be a little uncomfortable to have him there the whole time. A dinner is perfectly fine as a starter, since he hasn’t met anyone else from your family other than Rosa and Steven.
“Anyway,” she sighs moving on, “Have you figured it out how you’re gonna get there?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’ll tag along with someone.”
“Well, I think you should ask Harry. Everyone else is pretty packed already. Rosa and Steven won’t have any extra space with Valerie this year.”
You nod, even though she can’t see you. These past years Rosa always offered you a ride for the holidays, but even when they brought her over for just one night their car was jam-packed. No way you’re gonna fit in there so you are left with Harry since Marcus can only come in the afternoon.
“Sure, I’ll ask him.”
You shoot him a text that day and he replies right away that you’re welcomed in his car, though he won’t be able to take you back since he is leaving early in the morning on the 25th since he is flying back to the UK to his family. It’s fine, you think, you’ll just probably just tag along with aunt Monica back to the city, she always gets her a car for these occasions. Though it’s not your ideal option, she is not the best partner for rides, because she is a fan of smoking in the car, but you don’t have much of a choice. 
“I’ll call you when I leave, okay?” Marcus tells you on the morning of the 23rd. It’s early, barely seven, but he is up because he needs to work a little today and you are finishing up packing since Harry will be here in an hour to pick you up.
“Sure. Drive safe,” you huff sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your suitcase that’s still not closed, clothes are sticking out on the side and you’re sure you’ll have to sit on it to pull the zipper.
“See you later,” Marcus says before you end the call. 
It’s rather comical how you try to close the suitcase but you only care about the fact that you eventually succeed. Only minutes before eight you are packed and ready so when you get Harry’s text that he is outside you can leave right away.
Seeing you with your big suitcase he hops out of the car and rushes to help you.
“How long are you planning to stay, Y/N?” he chuckles lifting the bag up and you just shrug your shoulders with a smirk. You’ve alway been a heavy packer, no need to try to cover it up.
Harry throws your stuff into the back of the car as you take the passenger seat. His phone is hooked to the car, a playlist of his own playing gently through the speakers and you’re surprised to catch on the Christmas feeling in the songs.
“Are you in the spirit?” you ask when he gets into the car.
“Like to set the mood ahead,” he chuckles starting the car and off you go. 
Ridiculous to think about it, but it’s actually the first time you sit in the same car with Harry or see him drive even. The way you two used to be was not quite ideal to have you locked up in such a small place as a car. But now you have nothing against spending the almost hour long drive with him. 
“Can you pull out the navigation when I leave the highway? I’m not sure where exactly I need to head,” he asks you, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him and nodding you open the app on your phone so his can keep on playing the music without the voice of the navigation interrupting it. 
“Excited to spend your first Christmas with us?” you ask. Though Harry was there at several family events, it’s his first Christmas since becoming Valerie’s godfather. 
“I am,” he chuckles, nodding, hands gripping the wheel gently. He is a natural driver, easily working the car, the kind you feel completely safe next to. As Baby It’s Cold Outside comes on a smile stretches across your lips as you start gently bop your head to the song. “I’ve heard crazy stuff about Christmases at your family,” he adds glancing in your way for a second.
“Like what?”
“I remember when Steven told me about his first Christmas with your family. You remember that?”
Searching in your memories you tried to remember when was the first time Rosa brought Steven along. They dated for two years before they got married so it’s been about five years since then, but as you think hard the memory of that specific year pops into your head making you laugh as you nod.
“Oh, yes. The year Aunt Monica almost burned the Airbnb down,” you sigh grinning at the memory. She brought some special kind of cigars that year that were told to be curiosities from somewhere fancy, but they ended up the literal worst quality, flaming bits were falling out them all the time when she would smoke one, almost making the rug catch on fire wherever she went. Best thing is that she was already drunk on the liquor so she didn’t even notice, there was always a person on Aunt Monica duty, following her around, making sure nothing burnt down. 
“Steven said he had a moment when he thought about bailing,” Harry tells you and you gasp, because that’s new information.
“Really?”
“Yeah, but like only for a split second after your dad walked in on him naked in the bathroom. That was kind of the last straw. Luckily Rosa could convince him to stay. Guess it all worked out at the end.” Harry smiles as he stares ahead of him.
You can’t imagine a version where Rosa and Steven don’t end up together. They met through a mutual friend not long after Rosa had a nasty breakup with her scumbag ex. Steven was there to put her back together and be her partner as she found herself again. The change and positive impact he had on her could be seen every day and you were so thankful to him for helping your sister find her way out of such a dark place in her life. It didn’t take them too long to start dating and he proposed a little more than a year later. You still remember how Rosa was screaming in the phone when she called you that evening telling you that Steven proposed. They are quite literally a match made in heaven. It’s been your goal in life to find this person in your life though you haven’t had much luck with men so far. Ironically, if you were in a room with every man you were ever involved with in any kind of way, Harry would be the only one you’d want to talk with. If you had to make this exact same choice just months ago you would have chosen to run out screaming. 
“Maybe this year it’s your turn to get horrified from us,” you laugh, sinking down a little in your seat as you adjust the seat belt. You’re still quite far away from the cabin, you might as well make yourself comfortable. 
“I think there’s not much that I haven’t witnessed yet. I was walked in on at the bathroom once too, but it was your cousin, Etta.”
“When did that happen?” you ask with a heartfelt laugh.
“I think it was last summer at one of your nieces’ birthday party. Luckily everything was already tucked away when she basically barged in.”
“She didn’t miss much,” you tease him with a smirk and your witty comment catches him by surprise.
“Are you saying my dick is not imposing enough to be worthy of peeking?” he asks with raised eyebrows and you’re happy he is driving. His intimidating look would already burn right into your skin by now, but he is forced to watch the road instead. 
“I mean, if you want to put it that way…” you continue, but a laugh escapes your lips.
“Take that back, Y/N,” he orders, sneaking a hard look at you before turning back ahead, but you can see the small smile hiding on his lips. 
“Or what?”
“Or you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to be involved in,” he warns you, but his words don’t quite have the effect on you he wanted. Because in a heartbeat you find yourself feeling… excited? Thrilled? Even curious about his means behind his words. 
“Wouldn’t want to lie, so…” Pretending like you’re sorry you shrug your shoulders as Harry gives you a look that makes your stomach churn. Now either you are gonna have some fun teasing each other or… you just threw yourself into the arms of the Devil himself. Either way, you’re certain Harry won’t leave it in that.
Turning your head to your window you can’t keep your smile contained as you think of the fact that how big of a lie it was. Harry is surely not a guy who should ever worry about any aspect of his manhood. You’re talking from experience. 
***
The cabin is absolutely gorgeous, just the perfect place for a cozy family holiday. Hidden from the busy roads with a secure gate and tall trees on both sides, the back of it is facing a majestic view of the valley and the evergreen covered hill in the distance. With an interior straight from the pages of a magazine, you need just a few moments to adjust to your surroundings upon arriving.
“I saved a nice room for you, Harry!” your mother gushes the moment she sees the two of you walk through the front door. You huff in annoyance.
“And what about me?” 
Harry chuckles giving you a smug grin. “Guess you’re just second after me.”
“It’s his first Christmas with us, he deserves the better room,” your mom shushes at you, making your eyes roll instantly. It’s still hard to believe Harry has this kind of charm over most people.
After greeting everyone who is already there, your dad, Aunt Teresa and Etta with her family, your mom walks the two of you down one of the hallways that leads to several bedrooms. She stops at the last door with an excited grin on her face as she opens it revealing the bedroom behind it. 
You instantly understand why she thought this is the best one. The view is absolutely breathtaking, the gentle noon light is flowing into the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the king sized bed facing them so when you wake up in the morning the first thing you see is the endless sea of evergreens on the side of the hill. Not to mention the room has its own bathroom, not many of the other rooms are blessed with that. There’s a spacious shower that has enough space for at least three people in there and it’s one of those fancy ones that can make you feel like you’re having a shower in the middle of a jungle, mood lights and bluetooth speakers attached to it.
“No fucking way Harry is getting this room!” you gasp as you look around, taking in the luxure your mother is willing to hand over to him.
“Jealous, much?” he smirks, throwing his sports bag to the bed already ruining the neatly made sheets. He does not deserve this.
“Mom!” you huff turning to her, but she has made her mind up already.
“Your room is nice too, don’t worry Honey. Let Harry have this one!”
“I really can’t believe you are taking his side,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms on your chest as you take one last look at the stunning view. 
“Come on, Y/N. He is a guest!”
“He is not! You said it yourself he is family now!” you retort and Harry just laughs behind you, so you shoot him a murderous look over your shoulder, that just fuels his entertainment.
“Don’t be silly. Your room is the second one on the right from here,” she smiles at you. “We are gonna take a walk around once everyone arrives, so get settled by then!” she informs you before walking out. 
“Hey,” Harry’s soft voice makes you turn around. “You can have the room if you want.”
Your eyebrows rise at the kind gesture, it’s very not like him, even now in your friendly state, so it’s quite odd that he is willing to switch rooms with you.
“No need,” you shake your head grabbing the handle of your suitcase that you abandoned at the door.
“You sure? It doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, really.”
“I’m not gonna deal with my mother’s scolding if she finds out I took your room, so you can totally stay.” 
Harry chuckles as you head out, but stop at the door to have one last word with him. “Though I might occupy your bathroom, that shower looks nice.”
“All yours,” he grins before you walk out.
***
By 11 am everyone arrives and the once quiet cabin is now buzzing from life, children running around, Valerie’s babbling shoots through the spacious living area where Rosa set her crib up, your mother is already making preparations for dinner while most of the men are circled around the pool table having a beer since no one has to drive for the rest of the day. 
“When is Marcus arriving?” Rosa asks, eyes on Valerie who is absolutely destroying something that once were an elephant maybe, but she’s been ruthless with the poor animal, chewing and throwing it around all the time, so it’s not just a grey, fuzzy mess.
“Sometime before dinner. He has some work to finish,” you tell her pulling your legs under yourself on the comfy couch.
“And explain again, why isn’t he staying for the night?” she turns to you with a puzzled look.
“Because he is going home to his family early in the morning tomorrow.”
“Okay, but he could have just left from here, didn’t he?”
“It’s… complicated. It’s better if he just goes back home tonight and then leaves from there in the morning.”
What you leave out of the whole explanation is that you didn’t really invite him to stay the night as well. Sounds horrible and ridiculous but you didn’t think you’d have felt comfortable with him staying. You’ve been dating for only barely more than a month and though things are going well, you felt like starting with just a dinner would be a better idea. Marcus didn’t question why you didn’t offer him to stay, it seemed like he was fine with just coming and then going after dinner. 
Does this make you a bad girlfriend? Maybe, but you value your comfort and feelings more than to ruin your favorite holiday with your family. 
Just as you mom said, once everyone is settled in their rooms for the upcoming three days, the whole gang dresses up to have a walk around taking the welcoming little path that runs around the cabin and is smooth enough for Valerie’s carriage as well. Your nieces and nephew are quick to surround Harry and nag him to join them at the front, exploring the woods surrounding the path. It seems like he doesn’t mind it and gladly takes part in the adventure, also secretly looking after them so their parents can have a break and enjoy the stroll in hopes the walk tires the kids out enough that they’ll willingly go to bed in the evening instead of whining to stay up late. 
You’re walking with Etta next to you as she tells you about Hannah’s latest dance competition when you spot that Harry and Oliver, your nephew, Etta’s other kid are suspiciously whispering around pointing in your direction. At last Olly nods and runs up to you showing a quite thick piece of wood into your hand. You look down at him confused.
“Thank you?” you tell him a little unsure what it’s all about.
“I found it in a bush, I want to take it home. Harry said you’ll keep it for me because you have a good hand for thick and hard sticks.”
You almost choke on your own breath, as Olly just carelessly runs back ahead to join his sister. You immediately look over to Etta in fear that she heard what Harry told Oliver, but luckily she was talking with Joe turning back, not really paying attention to the conversation you just had with her son. If she did, Harry probably wouldn’t live by now.
Speaking of the devil, you look in his way and that annoying, smug grin is right there as he nods in your way saluting before he shows his hands into his pockets and turns back around to catch up with the kids. 
That disgusting piece of shit really went into the depth of teaching something secretly dirty to your nephew as a way of payback for your comment in the car earlier. He surely wasn't just joking when he said you’d pay for what you said. And you have a feeling he is just getting started. 
***
Aunt Monica is like a legend in your family. She is the oldest between your mom and her sisters, already in her sixties, but in the heart she still feels like she has just turned twenty. She never married, but had several men in her life, love affairs, short flings, but none of them lasted for more than a year. 
“Why would I settle when there’s so many fish in the sea?” she once told you, her iconic Chanel sunglasses sat on her nose as she sipped on her martini. 
She has worked many jobs throughout her life, she was once a dancer, she waited tables and even worked as a TV host at one point in the ‘80s. She was the true free spirit of the family, her sisters often questioned her sanity, but you think there’s nothing wrong with how she lived her life, enjoying it to the last bit. In the early ‘90s she was seeing a millionaire, probably the only man she would have given her lifestyle up for. Unfortunately, they never married, the man passed away due to his heart problems, however, since he had little to zero family he left basically everything to Aunt Monica. Money, house, cars, business, everything. Being the smart woman that she is, she handed over the business into professional hands but she is still the owner, so the money is still flowing even though she could have lived happily on the money she inherited without ever having to work a day. 
She seems a little odd in your family, but she has always been a loving aunt to you, a caring sister and she never fails to take care of her loved ones. She is the one to pay for all these Christmas getaways, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stay in places this nice.
“What’s all the money for if I don’t spend it on my family?” she always says when someone questions if she is fine with paying for everything. Your mom and Teresa have tried to convince her to let them at least pay for part of it but she wouldn’t even listen to them. 
She likes to have her own, sometimes odd ways in life. She definitely has a drinking problem, but not in a dangerous way. You have never seen her completely wasted, she just likes to keep things buzzing and always have a drink on her whenever she needs the extra fun. Because of her past she has the greatest stories about meeting famous people back in the days or how soldiers used to try to win her over when she was just a teenager.
“Oh, those things happened,” your mom told you when one day you questioned if you could believe all the crazy stories Aunt Monica tells you. “She was like… the star of the show. Used to hate living in her shadow, but I can’t blame her for enjoying life and doing the things I was too afraid to do myself.”
Now you’re sitting in the sunroom that faces the amazing view behind the cabin, the Christmas tree is standing tall in the corner, beautifully decorated in white and beige. Valerie is snuggled up to your chest as you gently rub her back and you listen to Aunt Monica tell you about how a literal captain once proposed to her after just three days of knowing each other.
“He was a gentleman, but a beast in the bed, Y/N. I’m telling you, men in uniform are just a different level of satisfaction.”
She sighs deep, taking a sip from her margarita that’s definitely not her first drink, and you just laugh nodding.
“He was begging for me to go to Italy with him.”
“And why didn’t you?”
“Who said I didn’t?” she asks with a pretentious hurt look turning to you and you just laugh. You should have known the story would go this way. “I accepted the offer, only turned down his proposal when we sailed off and then we parted as soon as I stepped onto the land of Italy. Broke his heart into pieces, but I was too busy enjoying the Italian summer.”
Harry comes in and hands you a bottle filled with juice that probably Rosa sent for Valerie.
“Thank you,” you smile at him shortly as you adjust the little girl in your arms and hand her the bottle.
“Young boy, have you ever proposed to someone?” Aunt Monica asks Harry who stops in his way as he was already about to head out, but now he walks back to the sofa where she is sitting.
“No, not yet,” he shakes his head.
“And how do you think you would if the time came?”
You watch Harry think to himself at the odd and quite random question. It’s not really something you would have ever asked him, but now that there’s the chance to hear his answer you are listening curiously. 
“Depends on the woman I’m proposing to,” he replies after a few seconds.
“How would you propose to Y/N?”
Your eyes widen as you turn to your aunt with shock all over your face. You definitely didn’t want yourself dragged into this.
“Aunt Monica, that’s--”
“Shush! I’m just asking theoretically. Wanna hear his answer.”
Harry’s eyes wander over to your sitting figure on the sofa as he leans onto the back of the one in front of him. You can feel the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks under his burning look and you just know he enjoys how nervous you got from this simple question that wasn’t even asked from you. 
Licking his lips he moves his eyes from you over to Aunt Monica who is still waiting for his answer.
“Something romantic, but not too grandiose, I know she doesn’t like being in the center of the attention that much. Maybe…” Tapping on his chin you listen to his words and without even realizing you hold your breath. “Maybe on a hike with a nice view. She would be admiring the view when I get down on one knee and as she turns around I pop the lid on the box.”
What bugs you is that it’s an awfully accurate description of how you’d imagined your proposal. He was right about many aspects, like how you don’t like being in the center of attention. No idea how he nailed so easily, but he did. 
Glancing down you pretend to be busy with Valerie who is still peacefully drinking her juice, eyes wandering around the room relentlessly.
“So you really look to satisfy her deepest fantasies, careful about even the smallest details. Women appreciate it,” Aunt Monica nods, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable she just made you feel.
“Thank you, I do like to satisfy women,” Harry cheekily answers with a smirk, eyes locking with yours for a moment as Aunt Monica lets out a laugh at the dirty comment. Before you could bite your tongue a retort slips out of your mouth.
“What a shame you don’t always succeed.”
Harry’s eyes turn from playful to dark pretty quickly and you enjoy the victory over him. Your comment in the car earlier already wounded his manhood, now it’s another stab right into his… crotch. It’s the least he deserves after what he taught poor Olly.
“That I don’t believe. He seems like an absolute pleaser.” Aunt Monica winks in Harry’s way who just smiles at her shyly, but you can tell your comment is still bugging him. 
“I think Y/N knows that too herself, am I right?” He tilts his head to the side and you stand your ground with holding his gaze and not looking away.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” you simply say, just when you hear your mom calling out for you. “Would you take her please?” you innocently ask walking up to Harry, holding Valerie out for him. You can tell he is looking for a witty comeback, but he has nothing just yet, so he is stuck with keeping his mouth shut as he takes baby Valerie from you. You gift him with a sweet, but definitely spikey smile before leaving him there with Aunt Monica. 
***
Dinner is already almost ready, you’re helping your mom and Aunt Teresa in the kitchen with the finishing touches, Joe and Harry packing out the wine bottles from the rack Jeremy brought them in, the two of them examining the bottles with such professionalism you almost believe they have the slightest idea about what to look for in a good wine. 
“Should we open some red or white ones for tonight’s dinner?” Joe asks your mom who is the master chef when it comes to the dinner.
“Red would suit better,” she answers. “Are they sweet?”
“Some, yeah,” Harry nods holding up a bottle and checking the label.
“Great. Monica loves that too,” Teresa chuckles as she adds some salt to the mashed potato. 
“And Y/N too,” Harry adds, not even looking up, but he successfully attracts your mom’s attention with his comment.
“She does?” Harry looks up and sees your boiling anger plastered all over your face, so of course he chooses to take it further.
“Oh, yeah. She can drink like a gallon. Wine drunk Y/N is like a whole different person.”
“I told you so many times not to get drunk, Y/N. It’s not too ladylike. When was the last time you saw her drunk?”
“There were plenty of occasions,” Harry exaggerates and you could kill him right there. “Though last time it was the tequila that got her wildin’.”
That damned smirk of his is making your hands curl into fists and for a moment you tell yourself it’s okay to punch him in front of your mother even if she’ll probably disown you for such behavior. 
“Y/N! I have told you a million times that you need to know where your limits lie!” she huffs shaking her head at you while you clench your jaw. Back at it with the lessons about getting drunk. She’ll never get over it, not even when you’ll be forty. Why does it matter to her so much? Sometimes she is the one to get you started, but then she gives you the dirtiest looks when you have one too many. She should just get used to it now. 
“She surely likes to have fun when she has had a few drinks,” Harry continues smugly. “Remember how much fun you had at Rosa and Steven’s wedding?”
“Oh, God! I remember how drunk you were that evening, I could have killed you!” your mother growls and you roll your eyes at her.
“It wasn’t that bad. There were a lot more people who got way more wasted than me,” you try to defend yourself folding your arms on your chest. 
“That doesn’t change that you were too,” she says with a hard look. Great, now she is mad at you for something that happened literally years ago. Kudos to Harry for ruining her mood.
“She wasn’t that bad,” Harry adds and you look in his way with suspicion. “She was a delight when it was time to get her to bed.”
Your mouth almost hangs open, but it seems like you’re the only one understanding what he really meant by that. Luckily, beside you and him, Rosa and Steven are the only people who knows what happened between you and Harry that night, so it’s no surprise no one else catches on the hint.
“You were the one who took her up to her room? Sorry if she was a burden,” your mother sighs and right at that moment you wish the floor would just open up and you could disappear forever. Harry’s satisfied grin is the evidence that he just won another round of this nasty war.
Just as you open your mouth to try and move the conversation to another field you see a pair of headlights pull up to the driveway. Everyone turns to the window as Marcus’ car parks down last in the line. As you step away from the counter you see the confusion in Harry’s eyes about the new guest.
“Oh, amazing! He is here!” your mom cheers, seemingly instantly forgetting about how she was dragging you just a minute ago.
“Who’s here?” you hear Harry ask, but you’re already out of there, heading to the front door to greet Marcus.
Just as you walk out into the cold evening air you see him get out with a warm smile on his lips. You wait for him at the door, arms wrapped around yourself and as he reaches you he places a soft kiss to your lips. 
“Hey, how was the drive?” you ask him.
“It was fine. I didn’t arrive too late, right?”
“No, we were just about to set the table. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk inside, all eyes immediately turning your way at the arrival of your boyfriend.
“Everyone, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Marcus. He is staying for dinner.”
Your family members walk up to the two of you, shaking hands and introducing themselves to Marcus who smiles at everyone politely, trying his best to remember all the names and information that’s thrown at him all of a sudden. Everyone seems delighted to have him for dinner, the kids instantly make him promise he’ll play a card game with them after dinner and he happily says yes to the invitation. 
You can tell your mom is proud that finally both of her daughters are spending Christmas with a man by their side and you’re almost certain your dad took a liking to Marcus the moment he mentioned he is into fishing.
Everyone seems excited and happy for Marcus, there’s just one face that doesn’t fit in the line of joyful smiles. Harry stands quite far from the two of you and only gets closer when he shakes hands with Marcus. His cocky grin is long gone from his face as he keeps his hard look on your boyfriend who is chatting with everyone. Standing next to Marcus, your hand still holding his, your eyes lock with Harry’s and there’s an unknown, burning feeling in your gut when his hard gaze holds yours. The sudden change and cold act gets you wondering what’s really going on in his mind. He is the first one to look away and you watch him walk into the kitchen and disappear from your sight before you force a smile on your lips and turn back to Marcus.
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Text
Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2
Wordcount: 10,129
A/N:  I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!
TW:  mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety
Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao
memeesss
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You glanced at your phone.
It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.
Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.
Of course he wouldn’t text you first.
You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.
It was driving you crazy.
“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.
You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.
“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.
“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”
“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.
“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.
“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”
You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.
“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”
“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”
“Why don’t you text him first?”
“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”
“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.
“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”
“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.
Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.
You: Miss me yet?
Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.
“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.
But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.
After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.
Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS
You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.
“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”
He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.
“Alex-!”
He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.
You froze in horror.
“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.
“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.
“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.
“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”
“Fuck off!” you snapped.
Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.
No. No, no, no, no.
This was bad.
You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.
He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.
You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.
Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:
Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??
Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.
Jason: ???
Snapping out of it, you texted back.
You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.
You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.
Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.
You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.
You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.
“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”
“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.
“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.
Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.
You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”
“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.
Ding.
Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.
You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.
Of course, he never did.
Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.
You: Do anything interesting since I left?
You saw him typing almost immediately this time.
Jason: no.
Of course not.
You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.
God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.
Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE
You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.
You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!
Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.
Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude
Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.
Jason: teach me how to do that
Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.
***
“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.
“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.
It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.
Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.
“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”
“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”
“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”
“Texted?!”
“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”
“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.
“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.
“Last Sunday.”
So the same day you started texting him, then.
“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.
“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”
“Yeah,” he lamented.
“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”
You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.
Ugh, you were so fucked.
Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.
“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.
Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.
Shirtless.
Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.
“Uh, wh-what are you..?”
He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.
His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.
“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.
“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”
“What, this? This isn’t for me.”
“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.
“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”
“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.
Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.
You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.
No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.
“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.
“No, shut up,” you looked away.
“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”
“What?”
“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”
“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.
You got up and went over towards him anyway.
Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.
“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”
But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.
“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.
Oh, no. Oh, fuck.
He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.
“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”
“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.
You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.
“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.
“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.
That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.
“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.
You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.
“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.
“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.
You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”
“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.
“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.
“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.
“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”
Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.
Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.
“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.
“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.
“You tell me,” he said.
“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.
“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”
“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.
“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”
“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”
“Is that his name?”
“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.
Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.
“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.
“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.
He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.
“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”
“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.
Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.
“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”
He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.
***
“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.
You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.
Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.
“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”
Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.
He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.
You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.
Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.
He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.
Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.
“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.
“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”
You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.
Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.
His uniform.
Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.
You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.
“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”
Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.
Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”
“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”
Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.
You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.
“It… suits you,” he forced out.
“Hmm?”
“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.
He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.
***
Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.
So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.
The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.
He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.
Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”
Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.
But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.
With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.
You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.
But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.
Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.
But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.
It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.
A soft knock on your door.
You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.
Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’
Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.
Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.
Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.
“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”
He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.
“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.
The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.
You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.
“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.
“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.
“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”
“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”
“What? Why?”
“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”
You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.
“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”
“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.
“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”
Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.
“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.
“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”
The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.
“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.
But then, his smile fell.
“I hate my name now.”
“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”
“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”
“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”
He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”
You waited for him to begin.
He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”
“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.
“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”
“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”
He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.
You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.
“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”
He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.
“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”
The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.
“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”
“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”
“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”
He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.
“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”
“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”
“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”
He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.
You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.
“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”
Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.
“Oh, no,” you breathed.
“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”
Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.
His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.
“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”
Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”
The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.
His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.
“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”
“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”
And that was that. That was the story.
The end of Jason Todd.
The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.
“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.
Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.
You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.
Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.
“I promise,” you whispered back.
And then the both of you fell asleep together.
***
“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.
It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.
“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.
He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.
“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.
“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”
“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.
“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”
Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”
You pursed your lips. “Yes.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“No.”
“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”
“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.
“He still hasn’t left the manor?”
“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”
“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”
“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”
“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”
“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.
“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”
“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”
“An angry lost puppy.”
You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.
*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.
So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.
Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.
But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.
You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.
Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.
“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.
Oh.
For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.
“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.
Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.
“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”
“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”
“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”
A pause. Then-
“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”
Your mind blanked for a second.
“What do you mean?” you asked softly.
“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.
“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.
“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”
Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.
“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”
And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.
“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.
“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”
“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”
“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”
You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.
“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.
His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.
“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”
There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.
“Yeah?” you whispered.
“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.
“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.
“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”
“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”
He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”
Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.
It meant that Jason was healing well.
“Does that make you happy?” you asked.
“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”
“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.
“Yeah,�� he breathed.
Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.
“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”
“No,” he simply stated.
“No?”
“No.”
“It’s kinda poking into me.”
“Just ignore it.”
“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”
“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.
You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”
He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”
When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”
You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.
***
“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.
The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.
“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”
“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.
“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”
“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”
“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.
“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”
You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.
Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.
Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!
That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.
You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK
You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.
Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!
Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.
You were happy for him.
You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell
You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.
Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!
You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.
You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!
Dick never replied.
***
“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.
“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.
“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”
“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”
“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”
You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.
Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.
“So where are we going?” he asked.
“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.
“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.
“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”
“Whatever.”
Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.
You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.
You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.
About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.
The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.
An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.
“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”
You looked at Jason.
He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.
His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.
“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he gulped.
“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”
“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”
“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”
“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”
“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”
“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”
“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.
The walk back to the car was faster.
“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.
“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”
“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.
“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”
“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”
“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”
“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”
“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”
“Let’s go back.”
“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”
“...okay.”
***
Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.
The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.
After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.
Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.
“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”
“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.
“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.
“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”
He simply nodded.
Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.
But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.
And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.
“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”
He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”
Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.
“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”
“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”
You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.
“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”
“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.
“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.
“It’s not that…”
“Then?”
“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”
“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.
“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.
“Because of me?” he asked.
“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”
“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”
You gulped. “Yes.”
Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.
“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.
You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.
“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.
“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?
Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.
He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.
“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.
“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.
“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”
“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.
“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
“Jason,” you gasped.
“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”
He went lower, closer to your center.
Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-
He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.
“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”
Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.
“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”
“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”
He ground his hand into your center harder.
“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”
“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.
“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.
“Right.”
“Teach me,” he said.
“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.
A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.
“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.
Fuck, you felt like exploding.
“Are you sure?” you asked.
“Yes. If you… If you want to.”
Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.
But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.
And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.
“O-Okay,” you agreed.
Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.
“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”
You licked your lips.
“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”
His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.
It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”
You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”
“Shit.”
You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.
And that thought made you smile and sigh.
“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.
“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”
“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”
“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.
“Here?”
He tapped your clit.
“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”
He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?
He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.
“Faster, Jay,” you panted.
He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.
“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”
“Feel good?”
“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”
The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.
“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”
“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”
“I can see that.”
“But I’m also good at improvising.”
“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”
He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.
“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”
“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”
“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.
“Yes!”
What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?
Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.
You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.
“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”
You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.
“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.
“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”
“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”
His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.
“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”
“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”
“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”
“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”
“Okay,” you sighed.
“Go to bed.”
“Thank you, Jason.”
“Fuck, I’m so horny.”
“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”
“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”
You pursed your lips.
“Goodnight.”
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reidgraygubler · 3 years
Text
a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 3
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Title: A Different Type of High (part three)
Request: no
Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader
Category: mostly fluff, but there is some angst
Content Warning: swearing, mentions of withdrawal and symptoms of withdrawal, talks of depression and suicide (but not for a sentence), mentions of overdose, (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, please let me know!)
Word Count: 6,148
Summary: Spencer keeps his promise and takes Reader to get coffee before NA. While at the coffee shop, Reader meets one of Spencer’s co-workers and finds out who he actually works for.
A/N: i don’t have much to say other than… i don’t know if it actually snows in quantico virginia or dc. everywhere i’ve looked told me yes and told me no.. so i just made it snow. so if im wrong about that sorry o.o and, this one mentions the episode ‘elephant’s memory’ season 3 episode 16 (i think) anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist! and here’s a series moodboard i made on pintrest! 
previous part  series masterlist  next part 
{***}{***}{***}
Three firm knocks came from the front door of my apartment. I looked towards the door as I struggled to tie my shoes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I stood up. My sweater was on the hook by the front door, so I can’t even excuse myself for running behind. It was just my anxiety causing me to be a little slow.
So with that, I walked up to the front door to answer it. I’m not sure why I was expecting anyone other than Spencer, but for some reason, my body was telling me it was someone else. But when I opened the door, a smile spread across my face when I saw Spencer.
Small snowflakes were sitting, and melting, in his hair as he stood in the hallway outside my own world. His nose and cheeks were a light rosy pink color because of the coldness outside. A dark plaid scarf was wrapped around his neck and hung over his unbuttoned jacket. And his eyes had a certain sparkle that I couldn’t seem to look away from.
“Hey,” Spencer smiled at me as he ruffled his hair, getting the snowflakes out. I stayed silent for a moment too long and kept my eyes on him. 
“Hey,” I blinked and shook my head, “I’m almost done… I, uh, was just… Do you want to come… Come in,” I kept my voice low as I asked. I stepped back and pulled the door open. 
“Thanks,” he smiled before stepping into my apartment. I looked around my home, realizing that it was a little on the messier side. 
“Sorry… Sorry for the mess. I usually don’t… I don’t really have visitors here. And, I guess I sort of forgot that you were coming over,” I bit my lips together.
“Oh, don’t… Don’t worry about it, really. My apartment is pretty messy too,” he brushed my messiness off like it was nothing. I looked around my home one last time before grabbing my sweater off the hook. “It’s starting to snow a little hard out there, we should get going,” Spencer cringed as he looked towards the window, which was covered by the cheap dollar store curtains. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m all ready,” I looked at him and smiled. He looked back at me before raising an eyebrow.
“You don’t have a coat?” He asked, watching as I grabbed my apartment keys. I shoved them in my pocket as I looked at him. 
“No, this is enough,” I smiled at him. Spencer nodded before following me out. “So, where was your trip to?” I looked up at Spencer as we stepped onto the sidewalk. He was wrapping a scarf around his neck before tucking it away into his coat. 
“Someplace in Texas,” he nodded as he buttoned the last button. He smiled at me before putting an arm around me. I just assumed he did it because I didn’t have an actual coat and just a sweater. “Work stuff… Kinda scary…”
“How does a work trip get scary?” I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at the ground. A very fine layer of snow was dusting the sidewalk, letting our footprints leave tracks as we walked. The snow was coming down like little cotton balls, so our footprints didn’t last very long. I always forget how cold it gets in the Winter. 
“Well, uh,” Spencer kept his voice low as he spoke. I raised an eyebrow before looking back up at him. “It’s a long story,” he added in an even lower voice.
“I have time for a long story,” I mumbled with a shrug. 
“It’s a really long story,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. It’d take a lot to get this story from him. I’m not even sure if it would be worth the fight...
The chilliness of the air nipped at the back of my neck and arms through my sweater, causing me to shiver. Spencer looked down at me with concern in his eyes. “We need to get you a proper jacket. It’s too cold out for you to be walking in just a sweater and jeans,” he spoke, his tone coming up an octave. I refrained from rolling my eyes because of him changing the subject. I’ll of course bring it up later. He’s clearly not telling me anything about what happened. 
“I’m okay, really. With just this,” I tugged on my sweater. Spencer looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Spencer. It’s fine. I don’t think I have money for a coat anyways,” I shrugged it off as nothing. Spencer looked away from me, thinking about something to say. Then he suddenly pulled his scarf off and wrapped it around my neck. “I’m fine!” I exclaimed as I stepped away from him. “Spencer, if being cold is the only thing that gives me feeling, then let me be cold,” I looked up at him, “I’m going through enough withdrawal to be depressed and shit. Just let me be cold,” I pulled the scarf off and handed it back over to him.  The scarf stayed draped in my hand, swaying in the wind, between Spencer and me.
Spencer stared at the scarf in my hand before looking up at my face. I couldn’t exactly read the expression he wore, but he was definitely upset about my sudden mood change. He slowly shook his head as he pushed the scarf to me. 
“Keep it. If you don’t want a jacket and you won’t let me buy you one, I want you to keep my scarf,” he looked up at my face before taking the scarf from my hand. He carefully wrapped it around my neck and placed his hands on my shoulders. I rolled my eyes before smiling at him. “Please, I have another one at home,”
“Are you too stubborn to take no for an answer?” I asked as I started walking again. Spencer laughed as he caught up to my pace. I smiled as he returned his arm around my shoulders. I leaned more into his embrace.
“That would be correct,” he looked down at me and smiled. I rolled my eyes again and shook my head. 
We stayed silent on the remainder of the walk, it wasn’t a far walk from my apartment to the coffee shop. Occasionally, Spencer would crack a joke or two, causing me to laugh. Which was good. I missed a good laugh or two. 
“So, do any of your work friends know… about this?” I looked up at Spencer as we walked side-by-side into a coffee shop. It was probably a good bet to say that he probably frequents more often than not. “This being you and going to NA, you and you’re… and you and me,” I stopped myself from saying any more, mostly because I knew he hated when we talked about our issues outside of NA or the community center. I understood why he hated it, but it didn’t leave much left to talk about. 
“No, no they don’t,” he mumbled as we stepped in line. There were three or four other people in front of us. Just a short wait, that’s it. I’m okay with waiting, in all honesty. The longer we’re here, the longer we are away from the community center. And God knows we both hate that place... “And I’d prefer if it stayed that way,” he spoke, mostly to himself, like he was reminding himself that no one knew of this secret life he has.
“I see,” I whispered and stepped closer to him. Spencer looked down at me before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I looked down and smiled as he held me closer. “I’ve never been here before,” I looked around the cafe, taking in the atmosphere of the place. It was comfy and cozy. As opposed to the outside, which was cold and snowy. 
“Pretty good. Although, it’s kinda hard for me to say no to coffee,” he laughed as he stepped forward in line. I returned the laughter and nodded. 
“What do you get? Normal black coffee? Or a fun drink?” I looked up at him. Spencer looked back down at me and thought. 
“Usually just plain coffee with cream and some sugar,” he nodded as he looked towards the front at the menu. I followed his gaze and looked over the menu myself. “What about you?”
“Uh,” I shifted on my feet and looked back at his face, “I just... I don’t really drink coffee or anything,” I crossed my arms over my chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me. “I guess hot chocolate is okay,” I whispered and looked back up at Spencer. 
“Hot chocolate, pretty good,” he spoke as he shoved his other hand in his pocket to pull out his wallet. We both silently stepped up to the counter. 
“Hey there, what can I get you guys?” The barista had a certain chipper-ness to her tone. It was probably from all the caffeine she consumes on a daily basis. Or it was the fact that she’s been awake for a million hours and is just tired. Probably the former...
“Large coffee, plain… Room for sugar and cream,” Spencer smiled at the barista. I shoved my hands in my pocket, hoping to find a spare bill or two. But when I pulled my hand out and it was empty, I frowned. Of course, I don’t have extra money. I’m a 22-year-old drug addict (Recovering… Recovering drug addict), who buys street drugs and can barely pay rent on time. Why would I have extra money shoved into my pocket?
“I don’t need anything,” I looked up at Spencer and forced a fake smile on my lips. He frowned and looked at the barista, who was watching the two of us with a friendly smile.
“No, no, my treat. Don’t worry about it,” He gestured to the counter. He removed his arm from my shoulder and pulled money from his wallet. I looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the barista.
“Uh, small hot chocolate… Thanks,” I kept my voice low, mostly because my anxiety was going crazy. No one’s ever gotten me a drink before, much less anything. 
The barista smiled at Spencer and I before taking the money from him. I glanced at him, watching him place the change into the tip jar. He looked down at me with a small smile before guiding me over to where a sign that said “Pick Up Here” sat.
“You didn’t have to buy me a drink, Spencer,” I whispered as we stayed close to one another. He shrugged as he shoved both hands into his pocket. “No, seriously, it’s okay,”
“It isn’t okay, because it’s cold outside and having a nice hot drink is always nice.” Spencer looked down at me and shrugged, “Just accept the kind gesture,” he lifted a hand and placed it on my shoulder. 
“I’ve never had someone just buy me something before. I mean,” I stopped myself from talking because the end of that statement had to do with drugs. “Ya know?” I glanced at him, hoping he’d just know what I meant. 
“Well, that’ll have to change, won’t it,” he whispered and smiled softly. I stared at him and shrugged. I shifted my gaze from his face and to the ground between us. 
“Here’s that hot chocolate and coffee for you two.” A different barista smiled at Spencer and I as he placed two paper cups on the counter. Spencer grabbed both cups and handed one over to me. We both turned to leave. 
“Listen, Spencer, hot chocolate is one thing. But a coat? That’s a whole other thing,” I spoke before taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I hummed as the warmth spread through my body. He smiled at me before grasping my hand.
“C’mon,” Spencer started as he pulled me towards the door of the cafe. I could feel a smile tug on my lips as we walked past a new rush of people.
“Reid?” a woman’s voice spoke, stopping Spencer and I in our tracks. He looked away from me and towards the owner of the voice. I followed his gaze and saw a thin brunette. I didn’t like the way he pulled his hand away from mine like he didn’t want to be caught with someone.
“H-Hi, Emily,” Spencer stared at her with wide eyes. The tone and shakiness in his voice definitely told the person and I that he was anxious that this was happening. Which was valid, considering we were just talking about his friends and co-workers and it’d be bad if they found out about NA. 
“Emily… Prentiss. I work with Spencer,” She smiled as she looked at me and stuck out a hand. Spencer still has to tell me what his occupation is. Whenever I asked him where he works, he always said he didn’t like talking about it or that it’d worry me. So, this’ll be a fantastic conversation topic on the way to the community center. 
I copied the same stare that Spencer held in his eyes. My eyes were glued to her hand. And, no doubt was my anxiety higher than his. “And you are,” she asked after a moment of my staring and silence. Her smile was still kind, but it was a little worrisome. And, her stare scared me, almost like she was reading me or something.
“Right, right, sorry,” I muttered as I placed my hand in hers. I muttered my name and looked at her. She raised her eyebrow before her eyes shifted to look at Spencer. 
“How do you know Spencer,” Emily asked, pulling her hand away from mine. I glanced at Spencer, silently pleading for him to take the lead on this question. I really didn’t want to answer this question because I didn’t know how to answer it. 
“Friend from the library,” Spencer spoke up with a certain… fakeness to his tone. It was obvious he was lying. It looked like Emily picked up on that too. With the way she pointedly stared at Spencer.
“How do you think I met him?” I looked up at her and shrugged. I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall and sighed. “If we’re walking, we’re gonna be late,” I looked back at Spencer and spoke firmly. Spencer looked down at me and nodded.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Emily,” Spencer looked back at his friend and smiled. Emily looked between the two of us before allowing us to leave.
“It was nice meeting you,” she smiled at me as we finally left. I flashed her a nervous smile just as the door closed. 
Once we were finally outside, Spencer wrapped his arm back around me. I could feel my body get frigid, I played it off as the temperature of the outside even though it was the return of Spencer’s affection. I really enjoyed the affection, but what I didn’t like was his sudden lack of affection the second we see someone he knows. I understand why he did it, but I hated it. I’m a secret. 
“Who’s Emily?” I asked, my tone low. I tried not to sound jealous. Spencer’s my best friend, and that’s it. I don’t like anyone like that, and I probably never will. “I mean, I know she’s someone you work with… But you never tell me anything about what you do for work, Spencer,” 
“She’s, uh,” he looked down at me. I kept my eyes away from him and stayed silent as I waited for my answer. “Yeah, she’s one of my co-workers.” He nodded. I looked back up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. 
“Where is it you guys work? Because it’s clearly not a Starbucks,” I asked, pressing him again about his occupation. “I mean, because if it is Starbucks, can you get me a job?” I smiled at him. Spencer laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me where you work… But can you describe where you work?”
“No it’s not Starbucks,” he looked down at me and smiled softly. And with that, our conversation about his occupation ended. I tried not sounding or acting upset. But that’s okay. I’ll get over it. 
“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile before taking a sip of his coffee.
{***}{***}{***}
“I just don’t understand… Why can’t you tell me?” I looked at Spencer as we walked towards the chairs. He glanced down at me before gesturing towards two chairs. I sat down before him, then watched as he sat down beside me. “Do you work someplace super duper embarrassing? Oh my god, are you a stripper?” I turned to look up at him. Spencer glared at me, a teeny-tiny smile growing on his lips. “Oh my god, you are,” I whispered as I moved closer to him. My butt was on the very edge of my chair so I could be as close as I could to him. “Can you show me somethi-”
“What, no! I’m not a stripper,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows before laughing. I returned the laughter and looked up at him. He looked over his shoulders to see if anyone was nearby, or close enough to hear our conversation. “Why don’t we talk about this when we’re done here… No one here needs to hear our conversation,” Spencer whispered as he looked back at me. I looked at him before reaching out to hold his hand. He flinched slightly when I touched his hand. I looked up at him before blinking. As I went to pull my hand away from him, his grip tightened around my hand.  “Does that sound good? I’ll be honest and answer any questions you have,” he looked down at our hands and nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, whether that be saliva or nerves he was swallowing back. A light shade of pink grew on his face, coming up from his neck.
“Yeah, yeah that works,” I looked down at my lap. The scarf was draped over my legs, keeping me warm a little bit. Jacob stood up in the middle of the circle to introduce everyone, and I already wanted the night to be over. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Spencer looking over at me as I silently prayed for death to take me now. “My place or yours?” I smiled softly before looking back at him. 
“Yours since we’re already walking back there,” he dropped his head to his shoulder before looking at me. I smiled and turned to face Jacob. 
{***}{***}{***}
“Uh, I don’t have much in the means of food. I might have a can of spaghetti-o’s… If you’re hungry,” I spoke as I pulled the scarf off my neck and placed it on the hook, along with my sweater. 
“Oh, I’ll just have a glass of water,” Spencer spoke as he pulled his coat off. He placed his coat right on the hook beside my sweater. I nodded before walking over to the small kitchenette area. 
“You can have a seat anywhere, couch, armchair, floor... “ I grabbed two glasses before filling them with water. I walked back to the living room, my eyes down on the ground.
“So,” I whispered as I set the glasses on the coffee table. Spencer, who was sitting on the couch, leaned over and picked one up. I sat on the opposite end of the couch before curling up into the corner. “Emily seems very nice,” I looked at him, watching as he sipped his water. 
“She is… Everyone I work with is like family to me,” Spencer looked at me before placing his glass back on the coffee table. “It’s frustrating because...” he started, but he didn’t finish his thought. I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at him. 
“What’s frustrating?” I asked, watching as he furrowed his eyebrows. He looked back at me for a moment before exhaling.
“It’s frustrating… Because I constantly ask for help and no one helps.” Spencer looked down at his lap. I raised my eyebrow as I turned to face him more.
“How are you asking for help? And… I thought you said no one knows,” I whispered as I laid my head on the back of the couch. Spencer glanced at me before looking back down at his hands. He was pulling at fingers, his joints quietly popping. “Spencer, if no one knows what’s going on, then they can’t help you,” I kept my voice low because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I’m sure with Spencer I couldn’t ever say the wrong thing. I mean, he couldn’t say the wrong thing to me… 
“No, no… I think they know… And that scares me,” he whispered as he looked back at his hands. “I’ve been with them for so long, and they know me enough to know when something’s wrong,” he shrugged before shifting in his seat.
“What is it you do for work? You still haven’t told me,” I looked back at him as I asked. His gaze shifted between the couch and my face. The way his eyes shifted across my face and his silence told me he was trying to find the words to say but was having a hard time formulating them.
“I work for the FBI,” he whispered, dropping his gaze away from my face. 
I could feel my heart drop to my stomach and a certain sickness rise up my esophagus. It took everything in me not to be sick at the moment. My hand balled up into a tight fist, and I could feel my nails digging into my palms so hard, I’m sure if they weren’t nubs I would have bled. The FBI… The police… People who arrest people who buy and sell drugs illegally. People like me...
“The… The FBI?” I asked in a whisper. My voice was shaky as I spoke. Spencer looked back at me and nodded lightly. I shifted in my seat, my body wanting to leave. “You’re not… You’re not an undercover agent, are you?” I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. 
“What? No,” Spencer scowled as he looked at me. I looked away from him, mouthing the word ‘Sorry,’ but not even meaning the apology. “I’m not an undercover agent, and I’m not going to arrest you. No, I’m like you. I’m trying too get better.” He whispered as he looked back down on the couch. “Last week, when I was on the work trip… I was saving a kid… Some teenager… He was… He was bullied growing up and in high school. And, he was…”
“Victim turned bad guy?” I asked, interrupting him. He glanced over at me and nodded lightly.
“Yeah, yeah that’s basically what had happened. They were going to shoot him,” he whispered. I glanced at him and noted that tears were rolling down his cheeks. 
“They? They being the other members of your team?” I wrinkled my nose as I asked. He glanced at me again and nodded. I moved to stand up, but Spencer reached out and grabbed my wrist to stop me from standing. I looked at him with wide eyes and terror on my face. His features softened as he looked at me, realizing that this was getting too real for me too fast.
“And, I… I couldn’t let this kid die. So I stood between this kid, this kid that I only knew so much about, and nine police officers and federal agents and their guns,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he went on. My eyes grew wet as he spoke. 
“That’s really stupid of you, Spencer,” I whispered as I shift back to be sitting on the couch. Spencer laughed lightly and nodded. “Don’t… Don’t do that again,” I rubbed the underside of my nose and shook my head.
“Yeah, it was stupid of me, wasn’t it… But, this kid is alive,” he whispered. I looked over at him and watched as he moved closer to me. “You can trust me. I’m trying every bit as you are to get better,” he spoke as he readjusted his grip from my wrist to my hand. I swallowed roughly and looked down at our hands.
“You… I know we don’t know we don’t know each other too well… But you can’t die, Spencer. I don’t care if it’s because of work, because of a bad guy, or because of someone at work, or if it’s because of drugs… But, you can’t die,” I whispered as I looked back at him. I could really feel the tears racing down my cheeks. “I’ve never been clean as long as I have been. I don’t think I can do this without you,” I roughly rubbed my cheeks and shook my head.  “I’m… I’m sorry, that’s stupid,” I scoffed and shook my head.
“That’s not stupid. Nothing about it all is stupid.” Spencer looked at me as he spoke. He lifted a hand to wipe my cheeks with a thumb. I looked at him before looking at the ground. “I’m having a rough time… With, uh, with, well, you know. I’ve stopped, uh, it. And last week’s case was the first case without it. I just didn’t care what happened, even if that meant dying.” He whispered as his grip on my hand tightened. “If you can do it… I can do it,”
“Accountability buddies,” I smiled as I reminded him of our promise to each other. Spencer looked back at me and smiled.
“Yes, accountability buddies,” he sighed as he pulled me close for a hug. I took a deep breath, breathing in his smell. “You alright?” 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” I wiped my cheeks again, “Mister FBI Agent,” I looked up at him and smiled, “Can you stay the night?” I asked, looking away from his face and at the messy coffee table. 
“Are you sure?” He looked down at me as he rested his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him and nodded.
“I think it’d make me feel better… Knowing that you’re… That you’re here,” I glanced at him. I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed or not. But, I definitely felt weird asking him to stay here. Just something about him being near for the night made me feel safe. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I understand if it’s weird or what-”
“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he nodded and looked at me. I smiled before throwing my arms back around him. “Just don't be surprised if I’m not here when you wake up,” he laughed lightly as rested his hands on my back, “I just… I know I’ll have to be at the office early,” he further explained. 
“That’s okay,” I nodded and looked up at him, “I promise I won’t make it a habit… Of asking you to stay the night, that is,” I looked away from him and shrugged. Spencer laughed and shook his head.
“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he muttered. I probably wasn’t supposed to hear him say that, but I did. And it kinda made me feel happy, like unusually happy. “Is it alright if I use the bathroom?” He asked as he stood up. 
“Oh, yeah, yep,” I copied his action and stood up. I looked to the ground as I lead him towards the bathroom, “Here you go,” I gestured into the open room. Spencer smiled at me before entering, pressing the door behind him. I stared at the surface of the door before stepping away. My fingers were tapping together as I walked back to the living room. My anxiety was a little high, and I wasn’t sure why, and the tapping was helping me calm down a bit. I had no secrets in the bathroom, nothing embarrassing or dangerous for him to see. 
I silently went back to sit on the couch, pulling my throw blanket over my shoulders. My apartment wasn’t necessarily cold. But there was enough of a chill to be noticeable. Well, to me at least. I’m not so sure about Spencer. I know I could just turn the heat up, but heating bills are expensive.
I instinctively stood up when the bathroom door clicked open. Spencer stepped out, drying his hands on his shirt. I internally cringed at my lack of paper towels or hand towels in the bathroom.
“Sorry,” I looked up at him and cringed. He looked back at me and shook his head.
“It’s okay,” he smiled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. I stared at him for a moment before walking away from the couches. “I really don’t have an issue sleeping on the couch,” he took a larger step to walk beside me. I glanced at me and shrugged.
“It’s cold,” I pointed out as we walked closer to my room. Spencer looked at me and smiled. “Besides, my bed can hold two people,” I smiled, mostly to myself. My bed wasn’t big, to begin with, two people probably shouldn’t be sharing. But, here we are… Because I didn’t want to be alone tonight. 
“Okay, okay,” Spencer laughed lightly as we entered the room. I looked up at himand smiled more as he looked at my bed. “If you say so,”
{***}{***}{***}
Okay, I was right, yet wrong at the same time. My bed can hold two people. But, it shouldn’t. Even though I’m smaller than Spencer, we were both on the very edge of the mattress. We had been in bed for an hour, and it’d been about 45 minutes since I shut the light off, leaving us in total darkness. I wouldn’t say I was uncomfortable, but it was difficult to be comfortable.
I rolled over onto my side, my back facing Spencer. Spencer was stiff on top of the blanket, making it impossible to get comfortable under it. He laid perfectly still on his back with his hands folded on his stomach.
“You know you can get under the blanket,” I spoke out loud as I looked up at him. He looked over at me, and it was clear that he hadn’t fallen asleep yet either. “Or, I can go get the blanket from the living room and you can use that,” I added in a whisper.
“It’s fine,” he nodded before shifting to move the blanket.
Once Spencer was actually under the blanket, he rolled on his side, so my back was pressed against his chest. My body stiffened once he relaxed. After a few minutes, I finally let my body relax and melt into the bed… That was until Spencer draped his arm over my body. 
“It’s okay,” I spoke before he even got the chance to move away from me, “It’s fine, you’re… You can stay there,” I shivered because I was cold and not because of my sudden anxiety. I knew he could sense my nerves. “It’s fine, really, Spencer,” I placed a hand on top of his to keep him from moving away from me. “Are you asleep?” I whispered, already knowing the answer. I knew we both wouldn’t be asleep anytime soon. The cuddling happening between us is obviously something we’ve never experienced before. I mean, I don’t know about Spencer, but I’ve never cuddled another human being other than my own mother (but even then she hadn’t cuddled me in more than 10 years). 
“Yes, I’m still awake,” he spoke, his voice low. His grip around me got a little tighter, pulling me closer to his chest. The way he held on to me was comparable to a child holding their stuffed animal, and I was honestly okay with it. “I’m assuming you’re still awake, considering you just asked me a question,” 
“I don’t usually fall asleep for a while after I go to bed,” I mumbled, pulling the blanket closer to me, “I spend most of my nights in bed, awake till 4 am,” I sighed. I silently hoped that tonight would be different though. 
“I’m sorry about that,” Spencer whispered. I shrugged as I shifted closer to him and further to the middle of the bed. “Maybe you should try to sleep earlier tonight,” “Yeah… Maybe,” 
{***}{***}{***}
I woke up before him. Our legs were tangled together, and he was holding me close against his chest. For the first time in a long time, I actually slept well. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the enormous space heater beside me, or because another person was actually in bed with me, but I was getting very hot.
I looked up at Spencer’s face, wanting to stay like this for a while. Although, I knew we couldn’t stay like this. He’d have to leave soon to go to work. He just looked so peaceful asleep. And, I was so comfortable lying here… 
I widened my eyes as I stared at him. My heart started beating faster, and I wasn’t sure if I could get it to slow. Part of me was worried that it’d wake him up, and another part of me was okay with it all. But, why was I worried as much as I was? And, why was it only when I was with Spencer I felt this way? What was going on? Crap...
I quickly closed my eyes and nuzzled my body closer to him when I saw that he started stirring. I threw my arms over his body and pressed my face to his chest. His heart beating and breath was somewhat soothing for me.
Spencer carefully shifted in his space before pulling my arms off him. I refrained from pouting. The bed shifted as Spencer sat up in the bed, partly bringing the blanket with him. He tossed the blanket back to me, lightly covering me again.
“Do you have to go to work,” I whined as I looked at Spencer as he slid out of my bed. He looked down at me with wide eyes. 
“I thought you were asleep,” he half muttered. I sat up before rubbing my eyes. Sleep? Pfft, I never sleep. He should know that! We just talked about it last night. “And, yes, I have to go to work,” he stood up and turned to look at me. I looked up at him and frowned.
“Nah, I never sleep, we talked about that last night,” I shook my head. Spencer sat at the foot of the bed to put his shoes back on. “I just have a bed to lay in and wallow in self-pity when I’m not at the community center,” I rubbed my nose. I pushed the blanket off me and crawled over to sit beside him. “And when I’m not with you,” I looked up at him.
“You don’t do anything during the week?” He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged and shook my head. “Really?”
“I mean, Wednesdays are really the only days I have stuff. I guess I could do chores and stuff,” I looked towards the door, remembering the mess in my living room, “I know what you’re thinking, I should get a job. But that’s so hard. I don’t have any job experience,” 
“I never said I was thinking that,” Spencer turned to face me. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him. “How do you-”
“I’m friends with the owner of the building and he knows I live on hard times. And, mom had some money left behind,” I dropped my head so I wasn’t looking at him. 
“I’m not judging you,” he spoke, his tone very insistent. I sighed and nodded. 
“You should go, before you’re late,” I looked back up at him, “I don’t want to be the reason why you’re late. Emily already knows about me. We don’t need the others asking about me. Some random girl you slept with,” I smiled. Spencer looked over at me, trying to hold back his smile.
“You’re not going to stay in bed all day, are you?” He asked, standing up. I looked up at him and shook my head.
“I told you, I can do chores and stuff,” I shrugged and looked around my room, this time at the laundry room. “Will I see you again before next Wednesday?” I asked as I moved closer to the edge of the bed.
“That’ll entirely depend on work,”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Agent Spencer,” I smiled at him before standing up. Spencer glared at me for a moment before laughing, “Are you like 007?” I asked leading him back out of my room.
“No, I’m not like James Bond,”
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fandom-obessesive · 4 years
Text
I never told you pt 2
A/n: here’s part 2! if you enjoy this and would like to be tagged for part 3(which will be posted tmr 7/8/20) just leave a little👋 emoji.I hope you guys enjoy and have a great day
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
Word count: 1160
Warning: Ends on a cliff hanger😢
The rest of the day you had been haunted by the look he gave you, the intensity sending shivers down your spine. You stayed after a bit to get caught up on anything else you had missed along with a promise to Chase about etching out the details for Saturday after you got home, it wasn’t long before you practically threw yourself onto your bed. Maybe it would have just been better if you had stayed home today. Instead of berating yourself any longer on decisions that could not be changed, you instead allowed your eyes to flutter shut, and let sleep take you somewhere less stressful.
Bzzt bzzt…..bzzt bzzt….....bzzt bzzt…………..bzzt bzzt
‘what the fuck’ you thought, irritated at being woken up. Flailing around in your sheets a bit before hearing a thud, you snatched your phone from the floor.
Today 6:43 pm
Heyyyyyy, you make it home okay?
Today 6:46 pm
Its Chase, from lunch by the way
Today 6:51 pm
Sorry that probably sounded a little weird,
a random number texting you to see if you
got home safe
Today 6:58 pm
Anyway, just checking to see if we’re still
on for Saturday haha
Today 7:01 pm
Yeah sorry, ended up taking a nap,
how does 11 sound? We could order
some pizza, maybe study a bit?
Today 7:03 pm
Sounds perfect!!! See you then:)
You smiled at his eagerness, finding it endearing. It felt nice being wanted after these past 2 weeks.
‘Welp, time to torture myself some more’ you thought throwing one of Paul’s sweatshirts on. You loved to steal them, especially since he was a big dude to begin with but always insisted on buying oversized ones. The material seemed to swallow you whole when you wore them. Bringing the fabric up to your face and inhaling, it still reeked of his cologne, pine, and salt.
‘I remember that day’
You and him had gone to the beach, him insisting it was going to rain and you just brushing it off saying it was always cloudy in La Push. He ended up being right and never took it back after seeing you shivering when you got inside his car.
“Don't leave me here, Paul!” You yelled as he got up and started sprinting to his Jeep as it started to pour.
“Wait” you could barely get the word out through your laughter as you got up to start running as well.
“Why are you so slow? You. Would. Be. Useless, if this was the zombie apocalypse” he yelled back jokingly running back towards you, opting to just throw you over his shoulder.
Rushing to the car, your laughter seemed to get louder as he made unintelligible noises trying to simultaneously unlock the car, open the door, and quickly seat you down. As he ducked in, looking over to you he put on as serious of a face as he could manage.
“When the time comes, I’m sorry to say, but you must be sacrificed” he said solemnly, slowly dragging his finger down his cheek.
“Dude if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna pee myself” you wheezed holding your stomach. He soon broke into laughter too, starting the car up. Without a word, he pulled the sweatshirt he had been wearing off before draping it over your head and began the 10 minute ride back to your house.
‘Still nice and warm‘ you thought, pressing your face into it. You pulled it on and smiled at him. The rest of the day had been spent eating junk food and watching The Witcher, with Paul commenting about Geralt's hair and what type of conditioner he uses, Ciri being the new Eleven, and mimicking Jaskiers songs, making his own up for the rest of the day.
That was one of your favorite memories with him, and unfortunately what seemed to now be one of your last. A frown tugged at your lips after the realization. You wondered if there was any way to capture the smell, maybe turn it into a spray so you wouldn’t have to forget.
Not for right now at least.
Running to the kitchen and grabbing some food, you quickly ate wanting to go back to bed so you could have a break from these type of thoughts that seemed to cloud your mind, and once again sleep was your only giver of peace.
----
Friday morning you spent almost a half hour just laying there debating if it was worth it to even go to school and risk a part 2 of yesterday.
‘I’ll just say I’m having a bad day and ask to do my work in the library’ you decided, almost forgetting to change out of his sweatshirt. Throwing on some sweatpants and one of your own sweatshirts, you got in your car and sped to school.
The day passed uneventfully, and just as suspected, you were able to hang out in the library for most of the day, haven been given a pass due to it being Friday.
As day became night, thoughts of Paul filled your mind, and you found yourself growing worried about tomorrow. You just didn’t know if you could afford anything else happening tomorrow.
‘Please let tomorrow go okay, that’s all I’m asking’ with those silent prayers in mind, you went to bed.
—-
11 rolled around sooner than you would have liked and Chase had arrived on the dot. You had to stifle a laugh when you first realized, also trying not to think about if he got here early so he could be on time. True to your word, you guys ordered some pizzas and studied most of the day, but you were also able to learn a lot more about Chase. It was actually kinda nice once he relaxed. He ended up leaving around 7 with an awkward hug and a promise to text you later and you were once again left alone.
‘Fuck this’ running upstairs, you grabbed Paul’s sweatshirt and headed out the back door.
Living near the woods definitely has its perks, like a trail behind your house to a clearing on the cliffs. You had discovered it when wondering around one summer and quickly made it a secret hideout for you and Paul. Paul was even able to bring over a bench that you and him painted. That summer had been one of the best, so carefree and filled with memories.
Making your way up the trail, you seem to have spotted the hunched over figure sitting in your bench a second too late. A little gasp left your mouth before you could stop it. You tried quietly leaving but before you could, he spoke up.
“I was wondering how long it would take him to leave” he said, standing up turning to face you.
———————————————————————
A/n: AHHHH IM SORRY, tmr tmr tmr tmr i promise!😂anyways I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget, if you’d like to be on the taglist simply leave a 👋 down below, thank you for reading, and have a great day😊❤️
Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @chiefjacob @fangirlanotherjust @jelly-fishy-babie @dillybuggg @Britty443 @ineedmorefanfics @lahoete
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7wanderingpaws · 4 years
Text
Simply, yours (8) (M)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Baekhyun x reader
Genre:  family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU
Word count: 3.8K
Warnings: cursing, mature content, angst
A/N: This one was so easy and fun to write frankly! Thank you so much for letting me know your opinions for the last chap, it motivates me like 1000x more! If you could tell me what you thought about this one as well, it would be nice! Thank you 🎉 And sorry I edited this one, but Im sure there will be typos and sentences that made sense in my head while I edited but they actually dont, apologies! 
Tags:  @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt  @luvhtears @ shesdreaminginoverdose (if you want to be tagged/untagged let me know! Im always open^^)
-
MASTERLIST
1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8
Once again, you entered your apartment in silence, except the few times Baekhyun let out a tired, exasperated sigh. Your phone was blowing up with messages from your boss; honestly, you didn't understand why was he even trying to contact you after everything that happened. By now you knew you wouldn't be able to save your work spot. Not after what Baekhyun did. And here you were, worrying about not telling your darn boss about your pregnancy.
In the safety of your apartment full of love, you were able to feel. The hotness of emotions was coming back to your bloodstream, the numbness from throwing up and the adrenaline of the fight -it was all palpable in fading touches.
This time, it was you who let out a tired sigh, but you felt the burn behind your eyes yet again as you made your way to the bedroom to collect some clean clothes before making a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring Baekhyun's angry expression as you passed by him.
Before you could close the door, he murmured your name in a warning.
“What.”
“You know we need to talk, right?” he snapped, turning to you. He spotted your bloodshot eyes, full of unshed tears and he assumed you weren't seeing him properly. He was right.
You saw him blurry like a modern art painting. Pretty, yet so… unreadable, almost worrying at how you couldn't see to the depths of it. “I know.”
At your terse answer, he clenched his jaw and you blinked, letting the tears roll down your cheeks just to see the tick in his jaw, the set of his chin almost scary. “Go,” he sighed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. “We will talk once you're out of there.”
Without waiting for your response, he turned abruptly but to your surprise, he reached for the front door, swinging it open. You closed your eyes just in time for it to slam shut. And he was gone.
-
Quietly, you took a long shower, thinking he wouldn't be back until… well, until he deemed good to be back. Which could be whenever.
Honestly speaking, you never had such a big, troubling fight before. Never. Yes, you did fight, but he never left you. Not at that hour, anyway. And you were also never pregnant. So this was one of a kind problem you found yourself in, and as you tried not to sob through your entire shower, your mind instead stormed through options you had with what happened.
Except, you had none.
You were out of job.
Your boyfriend, a hapkido master, used violence on your boss.
Your boyfriend could be reported.
You lied to your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend… was mad at you. Livid.
Was this the end of your relationship?
No.
He wouldn't let go of you that easily, and the realisation of that made you sob right then and there. The relationship you two shared was stronger than any of your doubts that were scaring you; it was stronger than any bad word, any bad action, because you two were more than that and your connection was stronger than that. As much as it hurt you that he left without telling you, you knew him well enough to know he would be coming back to you. You knew he would forgive you and he wouldn't break up with you. Not when you were carrying his children. Baekhyun was much, much more than an angry emotion and a protective action.
And you were pregnant with him.
Three kids. Three.
“Fuck,” you sighed as you closed your eyes under the hot water, wanting it to drown out all of  your intruding thoughts. 
If there was an issue you two genuinely had to worry about, it was how you would feed them and yourselves. Would you even survive bearing three children till the end? Would you survive giving birth? You were way past the first trimester which meant you were over the dangerous period, but you knew better than that. Bearing one child was a constant risk. Three? Definitely playing with fire.
Not wanting to create a huge water bill, you reluctantly turned off the shower even though your body screamed for more. Tired and aching, you dried yourself up, not bothering to put on a lotion; smells had been playing with your stomach too much and you literally despised and hated the constant throwing up game.
It was just ten minutes after your shower; you were lying in the bed, tucked in and ready to call it a day, when Baekhyun came back. His timing was perfect and it meant he didn't wander off in the dark streets to let his frustrations out. He probably went for a short walk.
Some shuffling later, he appeared in the doorway, the small lamp next to the mattress you were lying on gently illuminating your tired self. You didn't dare to look at your boyfriend, but you knew you had to do it. He was expecting you to. He was not in the place to beg for forgiveness now. If it was anyone, it was you.
Sighing, you pressed your lips together as you sat up slowly, looking him dead in the eyes; those dark eyes that had still some leftover heavy showers in them.
“Baekhyun,” you started and he kept your gaze daringly, leaning against the doorframe. When he didn't speak, you pursed your lips. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have told you.”
Silence.
“I will need more than that.” Was his cold answer.
“Don't you want to sit down?”
He was quiet for a moment, but then he crossed his arms. You knew better than to test him. When it came to irrational stuff you did, he was using the “I'm older” type of power against you, and you couldn't argue with that. “What did he make you sign?”
Once again, it was quiet. He was burning you with his scorching gaze, and you felt your cheeks heat up in complete embarrassment and self-loathing. But you needed to be honest. “I-I'm not sure if it was in the contract,” you started, trying not to stutter, “but he made me… Ehm, I was not supposed to fall pregnant. In exchange of him promoting me at work.”
As expected, Baekhyun let nothing to be read from his face. “Did you sign the contract and not read what it said?”
Please, make this stop. “Yes. But I really didn't think that-t-that-”
He spoke your name, cold and harsh, obviously upset. “You didn't think what?! Just how irresponsible it is not to read the conditions of a piece of fucking paper that can be used against you, huh?!”
Slowly, you tried to breathe. This was necessary. He had to let it out.
“You could have signed him owning you for all I know! Fucking hell,” he sighed, now running his hand through his hair wildly, turning away from you for a moment before sharply turning back, startling you. “And you just wanted to do it because what- you wanted more money? Is it all about money for you?! Since when did you become so fucking materialistic that you would stand in your own damn dreams!!!”
Tears, tears, tears, and he was completely right. Opening your mouth, he snapped.
“No, don't speak! I don't want to hear it right now! Fuck,” he murmured, and paced in front of you, his jaw set strong. “You weren't even pregnant when it all happened, why would you want to get to more money so badly?!”
“I wanted to provide for us as well!” you shouted back now, but your voice was so shaky you felt like you sounded pathetic. He had to know, though. “We are coming from a low-class background, Baekhyun! Why is it so bad for me to want to do more when I am perfectly able to do so?”
“Because you would have ruined your own dreams while chasing something so artificial!” he shouted back, stepping closer to where you were sitting, but you didn't budge from the sudden movement. “Money was, and money will be! But us creating a family together won't be a forever opportunity! And you were willing to just hang it up for, what, 300.000 won more? Don't be ridiculous! Plus! He is a fucking arsehole! If he isn't touching you up, he is treating you like complete shit; you deserve better than any of this! And if I could have, I would have beaten him up long ago.”
You averted his gaze. His words were driven by his love for you, you knew that much. So as much as you wanted to be offended and hurt, he was hundred percent right. Everything he just threw into your face was correct and you couldn't defend yourself, because he would come at you right away.
“Is this really everything our relationship means to you?” he asked, a bit more quietly, but his tired tone was scarring your heart. You dared to look back at him, to see him staring on the ground, one hand on his hip.
“No,” you said and you cried again, “it isn't and you know it, too.”
“Do you think I am incapable of taking care of us? Of the kids?” he looked at you, huge puppy eyes on full display as he slowly let his guard down. “Because all of this just proves you don't trust me as the breadwinner of this household.”
You bit your lip, trying to suppress your arguments, but ended up going against it. “Baekhyun, we aren't in a situation where I need to stay home, clean and do nothing while you get to earn money as if it was some easy thing to do. I am, and I will continue to work,” you replied resolutely despised tears rolling down your cheeks, “and it isn't you as a breadwinner, but us.”
The society surely was patriarchal, so if you dared to talk to your father in this manner, he would have slapped you. There was no such thing as a woman who got to go against her husband or brother.
Baekhyun, however, wasn't your father or your brother. He wasn't even your husband, and when you saw his troubled look, he finally let himself sink down on the mattress. He was your kind, loving boyfriend. “I already said this,” he started, “but I am not, and I won't keep you inside the house, locked up, while waiting for me to return to you after work. I won't tell you what to do, you know I never did,” he said in a more friendly manner, but it still beared authority. “I respect you as a woman,” he said, speaking your name softly, “and you are my everything.” His hand reached out to caress your cheek that was still wet from your tears. “I need to see you only smiling, happily, but I cannot accept you lying to me like this again. I thought we had been together long enough for us to earn each other's trust, and you going like that behind my back and signing bullshit was nothing but stupid and irresponsible. Especially because your pregnancy was jeopardized like that. You can't be under stress like that, sweetie.”
Hearing him calling you a pet name, you knew the war was over and he finally was on the positive side. His authoritative voice still kept you on edge, so you didn't throw yourself at him just yet.
“If he kicked you out, which I'm pretty much convinced he did, I wouldn't be against you not working until you give birth.”
“Baekhy-”
“Shh, let me speak, honey,” he said quietly and shuffled himself closer, sitting right opposite you cross-legged  as he took your hands in his. “Listen. I know you know it, but having three babies under your heart is a dangerous situation,” he whispered loudly, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips. “It's dangerous especially for you. You are very tired after work, and you come home late and don't get enough rest. Sukyeong even told me you don't always keep up with your meals, and I don't like it one bit.” The way his lips moved against the skin of your hand was soothing you. “Accept that he threw you out, before I file a lawsuit against him for harassing you and making you sign nonsense contracts, and stay home. Find a part-time job instead, but you need to rest, darling.”
“Baekhyun,” you finally spoke and he hummed, as he let your hands fall to his lap. His eyes were now so gentle and full of worry. “I am so sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have done any of that, but please know I did it with good intentions.”
Baekhyun went silent for a bit, analysing your face, your tired features and pale skin, which only reminded him you had been throwing up today and dealing with the situation in the restaurant. Suddenly, he felt so guilty for making you go through all of it in just one evening, (although you were responsible for it, too). Let alone he just shouted at you for good ten minutes. He couldn't even imagine what other things you must have been feeling the past weeks, given how your body was changing day by day. “It's alright, babe, it's alright. I understand. C'mere,” he whispered, opening his arms and you threw yourself at him, making him almost fall back on his back. You snuggled your face into his neck, and he let out a satisfied breath, caressing your back gently. “I'm sorry for shouting at you. But I'm not sorry for punching that idiot. He deserved it.”
You were looking at the skin on his neck and how it disappeared under his shirt that had the first two buttons undone. “Thank you for standing up for me, honey.”
“My baby,” he murmured lovingly into your hair before he gave it a kiss. “My only baby.”
-
You woke up to slow, gentle caresses on your small belly as your shirt was ridden up just a tiny bit, Baekhyun not wanting to wake you just yet. He was behind you, wanting to spoon you as soon as he washed up and fell in bed next to you last night. It didn't take long for both of you to fall asleep, as surprising as that was. The events tired you out, and he wanted you to sleep as much as you could.
He kissed your clothed shoulder before he nosed your neck and buried his face in your hair, while his caresses didn't stop. Letting his eyes close for a moment, he brought his front just a little closer to you, his leg wrapping around yours that were politely connected. His hand absentmindedly wandered further up before going dangerously low, sending shots of pleasure down your core without even paying attention. You knew he would soon realize his effect on you, because you definitely felt like squirming in his hold.
His hand lazily dragged upwards almost touching the underside of your breast when you couldn't keep it in anymore, breathing in sharply just for his hand to stop right under the-
“Oh, I finally have you awake,” he murmured, his husky voice sending another set of chills down your spine.
You couldn't help but smile, happy you woke up to this. The fluid down there was saying something else, though.
“Slept well?” he murmured into your ear, as he continued dragging his hand up. You groaned softly when he groped your breast as he pushed himself even more into you, and you felt it. He was so ready for you.
“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, enjoying the massage as he proceeded to nibble on your ear from behind, your eyes closed in pleasure. “You?”
“I realised we didn't keep our promise, babygirl.”
Your breath hitched in your throat when your realised what he was implying.
“So, is my beautiful lady still horny enough to go the remaining two rounds?” His voice was so deep, you felt yourself scrunching your eyes shut, the adrenaline quickly making its way into your bloodstream. “We will take it,” he murmured and this time his hand was going down, down, down, the panties the only barrier from his wandering hand as he lifted the hem of them teasingly, testing just how ready you were for him, “very slowly, my dear.”
His fingers played with you just for few seconds before he pushed his middle finger inside, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you leaned back into him.
“It's so early, but you are already like this,” he continued while your head was swimming, his ministrations nothing short of slow, yet so pleasurable, “all for me.”
Your insides were squeezing painfully, and he wasn't moving faster, nor did he have the intentions. “Baekhyun,” you said, trying not to pant too loudly, “I just want you.”
“Hmm? Speak louder, I'm still sleepy.”
“You're such a tease,” you whispered in disbelief before surprising him by reaching behind you to touch him exactly where he needed you. He hissed, his eyes looking at your profile to see the smirk you had on your face.
“I wanted it to be slow, romantic and all of that,” he mumbled before pushing your hand away while he sat up, causing you to fall on your back. As soon as his hand was out of your panties, you felt a pang of frustration before he covered your body with his, his face close to yours as you tried to calm down from him fingering you so sensually.
“I want none of that,” you replied as you grabbed his face for a heated kiss, “I want you inside me, just about now.”
“Needy, naughty…” he muttered with a flirty smirk as he teased you at your opening, causing both of you to groan. “Are you ready, sweetie?” And he still made sure you were okay with him.
“I'm always ready for you,” you whispered, spreading your legs even more for him, as he pushed himself in, your eyes instantly closing in wonderful pleasure only he was able to give you.
He stayed inside, buried and panting into your hot mouth as he rested his forehead on yours. “Sweetheart, open your eyes for me, hm? I love you, you know that?”
“I know that. And I love you, do you know that?” you reciprocated, smiling up at him only to be rewarded with his smiley eyes as he pushed back before diving right in few more times, where he hit your sweet spot. Moaning loudly, he dragged his face to suck on your neck before he took one of your hands, intertwining them with his as he pushed it up above your head.
“I know that. You are my angel,” he said, finishing it with a guttural groan as he felt you pulsing around him, knowing you were about to cross the edge and he was not far behind you.  “Come for me. We have another round,” he breathed before kissing you passionately, messily, moanily.
You mentioned you wanted none of slow. And in the second round, he gave you just that. Baekhyun became ruthless, just before whispering: “Are you riding?” And he was fast to change positions. He helped you straddle him although you definitely had the energy to move and climb by yourself, given your crazy hormonal drive.
“That was just a warm-up session.” He warned, not waiting for you. Your screams, his groans, the heat, it was all so fucking amazing you were left in a complete bliss. You were fast to catch up to him, moving your hips while he was watching from beneath you, eyes dark, glazed over and completely smitten by you.
“You're the best,” you breathed out as you dragged your hands to you breasts, but Baekhyun wanted none of that. He swiftly sat up, his chest almost pressed to yours while you continuously rode him, up and down,  your hands being pushed aside just to be switched with his as he added his sinful lips to the swell of your breasts.
“You're a goddess, mummy,” he muttered, leaving a wet trail on your chest while his hands squeezed and massaged your mounds.
“Baekhyun!” you scolded, and despite the sweat and the delightful pull in your belly approaching yet again, you blushed; the blush definitely caused by his choice of words.
He looked into your eyes, his ones proud and lustful. “It's true,” he muttered, groaning as you sank down exceptionally hard, almost falling onto his sturdy chest. His hands were now squeezing your sides, helping you out, unable to keep the needy touches to himself when you looked so gorgeous like that. He squeezed your arching body to his sweaty chest.
A quick glance at your swollen belly that he made sure you noticed, his hand came to touch against it and you were gone. He caressed you there gently while swallowing your moans as you grabbed his face, kissing him, your hair falling, creating an intimate curtain just around where your mouths were connected. You still had an unearthly energy to help your boyfriend out to his orgasm, not wanting to be in the ecstasy alone, and as much as Baekhyun needed the release, his hands slid across your sides, holding your hips to stop their movement.
“Enough, baby girl,” he whispered into your mouth, leaning back ever so slightly to see your flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead. “I don't want you to hurt yourself.” He was still panting and you swore to god he looked so handsome with his hair glued to his forehead, puffy cheeks. You might have gotten horny again.
“Come with me,” you insisted, attempting to to move again but he bit his lip, a cheeky glint in his eyes, and he held your back tenderly, moving you to lie on your back, while slipping out of you. Hissing, he stood up quickly.
“I'll be right back.”
Trying to calm your breath, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling in your aching body. A knowing smile played on your lips; Baekhyun would rather get a cold shower then another orgasm from you, just because he was worried about you. If that wasn't some darn good self-control, you didn't know what it could be.
Just as he promised, he was back soon, a towel in his hands to help you clean up. Once done, he lied back down next to you and you immediately curled up by his chest. “That was amazing.”
“Hmm, you are amazing,” he said. After a little pause, he asked: “You feeling alright?”
“Perfect. But I could go again, you know? You don't have to be so careful with me.”
He snorted as he played with the ends of your hair. “Jeez, you already have my baby! Actually three of them! Slow down, woman.”
You both laughed heartily, and he loved the sound.
“But I want to have youuu, my love,” you whined.
“You have me. You always have me. I'm yours. I'm just simply yours.”
A/N: just to clarify, this isnt the end, we still have quite some things to get through actually - more drama ㅠㅠ! Just didnt want to leave you on a cliffhanger. Hope you liked this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Any feedback is very much appreciated  🥺 🥺
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burgerkang000 · 3 years
Text
Email for better love lives
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I HAVE A NAME FOR THIS ONE YAAAAAY
im doing the read more thing, cuz u know scrolling ugh
@beyoncesdragon @aixy-hpsa (if anyone else wanna be tagged, let me know!!!)
This is a Yunho fic!
enjoy?
You met San at a compulsory public speaking class, where only you both had to attend for grades; it was filled with nerds who came voluntarily. And your bond begin with bored out glances at each other and loud sighs exchanged. And after that you guys hung out a lot, went to get coffee while doing homework, caught rides with each other, and waved whenever your paths crossed.
You met Yunho when San wanted you to meet his friends that he wouldn’t stop talking about, which made you slightly jealous; you yearned for a bond like that. You pushed that thought away, nothing good comes with jealousy. And while San and his friends would go about their own business, you would stick to the side-lines, not knowing what to say or do, even though they try their best to include you.
Yunho would be the one to keep you company, actively telling you about his day and attentively listen when you were asked about yours. He would also help you study and take you out to grab coffee when San would be too busy.
Anyone would be a fool to not fall for Yunho, with his smile that make his eyes crinkle at the corners, teeth on display, fluffy hair. Who wouldn’t fall for him, at least you could keep it inside, and no one had to know.
“Look at Yunho in this picture, he looks so handsome” San shows you the pictures from your quick break before the exams to the arcade. You take a glance, damn. You know that the moment you open your mouth, you’re screwed.
“Hmm”
“I don’t like it when you’re vague” 
“Yes Yunho is cute” That’s all you plan on saying anyways, but you had to panic, because what if San thinks you’re not commenting on it too much and picks up that you’re crushing on Yunho? Ok, so you were overthinking.
“Too cute that it’s impossible he exists, I mean I see him every day but it’s not like I believe he’s real, there is a limit to being cute and all. I mean a recreation of a Greek god- I mean he should be a Greek God himself-”
You were cut short by San’s exploding laughter and as you voice your confusion to him, he still laughs until you violently shake him-
“Yah! Why are you laughing?”
He finally calms down enough to tell you-
“Just say you have a crush on him”
You open your mouth to deny-
“Admit it~” He says scrolling through his phone again.
You huff out, San was your best (read: only) friend, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, so you nod the tiniest bit, and San grins from ear to ear.
“I mean, I didn’t see it coming, but when you started rambling off like that, it was obvious.”
You sigh.
“You tell this to anyone, I will personally murder you”
“Sure sure”
And after that, he thankfully let you change the topic.
 .
.
.
Ever since then, whenever you’d meet Yunho, right after that, you’d whip out your phone to text San; something vague like-
“He’s wearing a red sweater”
“He dyed his hair blue!”
“Kill me”
And then you’d go home and text San about how a person; a human, cannot simply be so beautiful, and ramble off about him.
 .
.
 .
“But sir, I don’t have an email” You tell the professor, who has just asked to submit your assignment by mail.
“Don’t whine to me, and make one, is there a student your age without email? How do you have social media accounts?”
“I don’t have them” you reply
“Just make one, it’s extremely useful, and won’t take much of your time” He said, in a brushing off manner, guess he doesn’t believe you.
You nod and sigh as you leave to the next class. If you can’t whine to your professor, you can whine to Yunho. Who listens to the whole thing like the god damn angel he is, and as you open your phone to create one, he gently coaxes it out of your hand, asks you if it’s okay if he creates one for you instead and when you nod he turns his attention to the phone, while you’re just dumbly staring at your hand, where Yunho’s hand made contact with yours.
“Look, I sent my self a mail using yours, lets chat on mail for a while, you can get used to it” He says, you nod, and talk for a while, and then Yunho had to go. You wave at him while he leaves and you text San.
“What’s your mail?”
And when you finally get it, you send him a mail.
URGENT: JEONG YUNHO TOUCHED MY HAND, I REPEAT JEONG YUNHO TOUCHED MY HAND, MOM COME PICK ME UP PLEASE.
I MEAN HE WAS FABULOUS TODAY TO, IF IT WASN’T OBVIOUS; HIS HAIR WAS SO SOFT I CLIKED A PIC, LOOK:
[Image attached]
DO ME A FAVOUR, WHEN I DIE, SIT ON THE VERY SAME CHAIR HE’S SITTING ON, LOOK AT THE SAME DEIRECTION HE’S LOOKING AT AND BURY ME THERE, WHILE YOUR AT IT PRINT THIS ON MY GRAVESTONE.
WHEN I DIE PLEASE TELL HIM I LOVE HIM IN THE OTHER WAY.
BYEBYE
Later that day you get a reply from San saying that you’re too dramatic and an email from Yunho, which you didn’t think much about the time. He was the one who wanted to talk in mail, so you open it and-
And you realise you accidently send it to him too.
*cue freak out*
“So I must have send it to him too-” San blinks at you for a while and then-
Laughs at your face saying random things like
“This is gold”
“Nonononono”
“Never in my life- never”
At this point, you think he’s just spewing English vines that he’s been watching a bit too much to be considered healthy. And now you’re overcome with sadness, and as soon as he notices, he starts apologising and you bow you head, you think you look like a rag doll, and then cry. And san runs circles on you back, occasionally tucking strands of hair behind you ear and wait till you finish.
After a good while of snot- running type of crying, puffy eyes and ringing ears, you start to ramble, a habit that got you here in the first place.
“I don’t think I’m ready for rejection, I mean I was perfectly fine watching him from the side-lines. Heck I would watch him get married and I’d probably say nothing, like I’m not dying inside, proceed to get married, I’m crying tears of happiness-”
“What makes you so sure that he’s going to reject you?”
“I don’t know ok? But this isn’t a movie, he sees me as a friend and I had to go and catch feelings for him.”
San sighs.
“So, what’re you going to do now?”
 .
.
.
It was hard, but you finally managed to blackmail San to help you avoid Yunho situations.
“And how long do you plan to do this?”
“Until my plane ticket and Visa to Alaska are approved and I change my name to Veronica Fall”
He looks at you, and the look speaks for itself, you’re being dramatic. You raise your arms in mock surrender and flop on top of the bed.
“Tomorrow everyone is hanging out, Yunho will be there, you coming?”
You pointedly grin at his cheeky expression, and he mimics the way you had surrendered just a few moments ago.
 .
.
.
You stare at the response you had given to all the missed calls from Yunho.
I’m busy
Sorry, I was showering
I’m going to be busy for a while.
And you watch as the three dots move, and then stop and then move again, you feel as if your heartbeat moves along with those dots, stopping when it disappears, and then finally a response.
We need to talk, I gave you your time, and it’s not fair.
You feel like this is a new side of Yunho you haven’t seen, an assertive one. And you realise, just because you’re a coward, doesn’t mean that you can leave Yunho in the dark, even though you have fears of Yunho leaving you, getting awkward; deep down, you know, that Yunho, he’d never treat your feelings as something useless. And that makes you feel more in love.
And who knows unrequited love may not be so bad, maybe, just maybe; for Yunho it might not be so bad.
Fine
After sending the last text, you get up to clean the place, take out boxes littered about, and books and papers all lying about that you haven’t cared to put away. You do the dishes, and tie your hair into a pony, you’re distracting yourself from the real problem of facing him, for now you let yourself do it; later, you can scream at yourself.
And a right when you reach for the broomstick that you had tucked in deep behind the storage room; you hear a knock at your door.
You don’t think much about it, until you open the door. Low and behold; Yunho was standing at the doorway, a determined look on his face and he walks past you into the house.
You can’t help but think; geez, come on in. But you’re just salty.
And he opens his phone and shows it at your face, too close to read, practically in between your eyes, its touching your nose too. And you’re the dramatic one.
“Explain; explain this email, that was, I figure, supposed to be sent to San, explain why you’ve been avoiding me and my calls, and wherever I go right after I replied to this, I’m not going or letting you go until you do.”
And his voice cracks at the end bit, but you don’t notice, you’re in a bubble of thinking; thinking how to phrase this, just overthinking; maybe.
And moments which feel like hours pass, and you decide to do this the ripping off the band aid way. But it turned out more like the ramble it off way
“I like you? No, no that came out wrong… I love you? Yes, I’m pretty sure I love you, and don’t worry I know you’re not into me that way-”
And you don’t know what really happened; there was a hand on your face, right under your nose, and he was right in front of you.
“Sometimes, everything you say is nonsense.” He breathes, you open your mouth to respond, and he applies more pressure with his palm, to keep you quiet. You can’t help but think of the way your lips mouthed at his palm, not the time; not the time at all.
And then he continues.
“You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that, the moment I got that email, it took me a few minutes to understand, but when I did, I already pictured our five adopted cats, not gonna lie”
Your eyes widen in shock, did he just indirectly say he like you back, in the form of cats? This is why you fell for him in the first place.
“Did I creep you out? I must have creeped you out, forget I said that.”
And you laugh behind his palm, and he slowly removes it, moves it to your shoulder, drags it down the length of your arm, and interlocks it with your hand, a sweet smile on his face, the contagious one, so it’s only law that you smile back, teeth and all, since you can’t hold it back.
“We should go on a date.”
“That; we must.”
.
.
.
You were on one of your many dates, too wind up in each other to not notice the others who also wanted to hang out with you, you totally kept the news from San; you and Yunho are in this together, so he needs to also be comfortable with telling San, after a lot of thinking, you both settle on letting them find out, which may take years to get in their daft heads, but for now, you both have put fate in them.
 .
.
.
San caught on way too quickly, the moment you enter the café and sit down, he says-
“So you’re not moving to Alaska? Or is your husband; Yunho moving with you?”
You blush and look down-
“Look, I can explain-”
And he breaks into a wide grin,
“I’m happy for ya”
.
.
.
You and Yunho were scrolling through many of the messages you have send to San; the ones fawning over Yunho, as much as he likes to get you flustered, he himself also gets flustered, so it’s a win-win situation.
“They haven’t caught on yet” you suddenly say.
It’s true, other than San none of them have caught on yet that you both have been dating, and that’s kind of weird, since it’s been almost a whole year.
But it’s not like you’re gonna sit them down and tell them. You and Yunho have a better plan.
Well you have a better plan.
“-and they walk in on us!”
“…..”
“Or not?”
“No”
You end up inviting them over for dinner, and as they take their first bites, you happily chirp in that you’re dating and Yunho adds that you’re moving in with, leaving everyone to choke on their food, except San, who had a cocky expression, which soon turned into a choking fit, who’s cocky now?
And Wooyoung looks up, and goes “Wait, you’re serious” and continues choking, this time on nothing.
 .
.
.
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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years
Text
artistry (1/2) bucky barnes x reader
+++++++++
part 1 part 2
therapy, and hatred for the same things; the beginning of a beautiful love story 😌
also sorry this is not any of the stories on the list i published a couple weeks ago. ive been submerged in the falcon and the winter soldier and really wanted to write more for Bucky so here's the beginning of that. i will be working on the other stories they just may take more time. but for now i hope you all enjoy the bucky content!
Song: never know by set it off
tag list: @cynic-spirit
+++++++++
I stood, knees to the couch, arms folded over my chest, Studying the wall as best I could. God I fucking hated it. It was so polite and warm and inviting. Barf.
"Disturbing."
I grumbled, hearing soft footsteps against the carpet.
"Oh sorry, they told me to wait in here I didn't realize there was someone-"
I glanced over at him for a moment. He seemed like he wanted to leave but I'm sure he was curious what I was doing. I was staring at the wall behind the couch after all.
"It's kind of infuriating isn't it?"
I asked, looking over the pale greens and blues.
"Um, what is?"
He now seemed very confused. I nodded towards the mural.
"Sometimes when I look at this wall too long I can just imagine myself punching a hole in it."
I half laughed.
"I couldn't tell you how many times I've wanted to offer to paint over it."
I uncrossed my arms, side stepping the couch and touching the wall gently.
"I never really thought about it but it is kind of ugly isn't it?"
He sent me a smile and I couldn't help laughing more.
"Y/n."
I said offering my hand to shake.
"James."
"Firm grip ya got there James."
He rubbed his gloved hands together, looking to the floor as his smile faded.
"Thought I knew my own strength."
I kept the smile on, touching his shoulder gently.
"Hey, a firm grip isn't necessarily a bad thing. Besides, no harm no foul. I'm sure you put it to good use."
I winked at him and he seemed like he didn't know what to do again. Until he let out a nervous laugh.
"Right."
I nodded once, looking back over the wall and dropping my hand from him.
"I should probably get going, doc should be in soon and I wouldn't want to take away from your session."
I walked past him.
"It was nice to meet you James."
As I reached the door he cleared his throat.
"Hey y/n-"
He said quickly and I turned back around to face him. He was fiddling with his fingertips, pinching the leather of the black gloves.
"I uh, don't get out much but I was wondering if you'd like to get a drink. Maybe, talk about how you'd repaint this wall?"
He pointed to it haphazardly, a smile making its way back to his face. In that moment I couldn't help the one creeping it's way across my own lips. I nodded quickly.
"I'd like that a lot James, uh here, you can call or text me at this number and we can work something out."
As I spoke I reached into my bag and pulled out a business card that I probably hadn't used in too long. The edges were fraying and my occupation had changed but I handed it to him anyway. He held it between both hands and looked over it.
"Are you free tonight?"
He asked, hope behind his eyes. I pretended to think for a moment.
"Ya know what I think I am."
I said and his smile got wider.
"Meet me at the bar at the corner of tenth and Jefferson?"
I nodded slowly at his inquisition, backing up into the doorway and squeaking when my back hit the wood.
"Eight o'clock, don't be late."
I said, turning and almost running into Dr Raynor.
"Oh, sorry, uh have a good session."
I mumbled quickly, ducking past her.
"I'll see you tonight James."
°°°°°°°°°
As I sat at the bar alone I began to doubt he was even coming. It was almost nine already and I was starting to think I was stupid for even waiting this long. Maybe I should go. Or maybe I should try to find someone else to talk to. The band was pretty good after all. I sighed and raised my finger to get the bartenders attention. when she turned around i opened my mouth-
"I'll have what she's having."
I heard, looking over to James with wide eyes as he sat beside me. He was wearing a navy blue leather jacket of some kind that exposed his left, metal, arm.
"You actually came."
I said surprised. He seemed almost ashamed.
"Sorry I'm late. My friend needed me and we got a little caught up. I was going to call but-"
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and the top was barely hanging onto the base by a wire. the flip phone kind of took me aback though. but it didnt matter, he showed up.
"It's okay, im just glad you actually came."
He let out a nervous laugh and took a sip of the drink the bartender had sat down.
"I was hoping you'd still wanna talk, even though I'm an hour late."
I nodded, looking over his face as he fully turned to me and my face fell.
"An hour late and bleeding."
I reached towards him and touched his temple gently. He winced at first.
"You wanna get out of here? I can get that fixed up; I only live about a block away."
I suggested and he nodded slowly.
"Uh yeah, I'd like that."
I paid the bartender and stood up, James following me outside. I inhaled deeply at the scent of rain as the sky darkened with clouds.
"So, something life-threatening happen on your way here?"
I asked, laughing a little as he looked to me.
"I'm kidding. Unless it did, in which case I'm glad you're okay."
He scratched the back of his neck, pacing slowly beside me.
"Good talk."
I said and he cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry I just, I don't do this often and I feel like I've already lost my chance with you."
I looked to him and drew my brows.
"would i have invited you to my house if you had?"
he shrugged, side nodding before tucking his hands into his pockets. i frowned when he didnt respond.
"look, james, i think I'll be the judge of whether or not youve lost your chance and right now I say you haven't. but you said you wanted to talk and there's not a whole lot of that going on."
He let out a nervous laugh.
"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"
I asked, slipping my right hand into his left elbow and he stopped. He looked down at our arms connected for a second and then I felt bad.
"Sorry, I just uh, figured it'd lighten the mood a bit. Sorry."
I pulled away and kept walking.
"Wait. No, it's just-"
I looked back at him and watched as he opened and closed his hand a few times.
"I don't really associate good things with it so it took me off guard a little bit. You can, uh, you can hold my hand if you want. That's fine."
He stepped closer to me and took my hand in his. I smiled at him and nodded.
"Thanks, I guess I just wasn't really thinking."
We kept walking.
"It doesn't bother you?"
He asked and I shrugged.
"Why would it bother me?"
There was a long silence as we rounded the street corner.
"I don't know."
He said softly.
"Uh, we're here."
I said, letting go of his hand and walking up the stairs to unlock my front door, looking to him as he looked over it. when i offered for him to come inside he hesitated for a moment but followed me in anyway.
"here you can sit here, let me get a look at where this blood is coming from."
he watched as i pulled the stool out form under my breakfast bar and i felt more nervous than before. it had suddenly occurred to me that we would be getting much closer and that led to some pretty self-conscious thoughts. but who was i kidding? he bared himself to me already, why should i be scared?
i inhaled deeply as he sat, moving to turn another light on so i could see better. i moved back over to stand between his legs, touching his jaw lightly and tilting his head down. he kept his eyes on me as i touched the wound gently, hearing his breathing hitch in the back of his throat before i let go to get a cold wash rag.
"so, you wanna tell me what happened?"
i asked, trying to lighten the mood as i came back and began wiping the dried blood away from the cut at his hairline. my finger tips were at his chin and he seemed more relaxed now.
"i was helping a friend."
he repeated like before. i nodded once.
"you live a dangerous life don't you James?"
he looked up at me with innocent eyes.
"bucky."
he said and i raised a brow.
"bucky?"
"thats what my friends call me."
i nodded once.
"are you calling me a friend?"
i asked and he finally cracked a smile.
"if you want to be."
he said and i let out a short laugh.
"and if i dont?"
his smile began to fade and he cleared his throat. i looked to the ceiling for a moment before leaning down and kissing his cheek gently.
"thats not what i meant bucky."
when he looked back up at me he seemed so lost, like this was a new type of kindness. part of my heart broke thinking about what could have happened to lead him here.
"what do you say we call this a trial run? we can take a weekend sometime and maybe go to the art museum down the street, get pizza for lunch, and just have a good time."
he seemed like he was still trying to study me as i put the wash rag on the counter and wiped my wet hands on my jeans.
"no blood, no confusion, just two people having a good time."
i held my hand out for him to shake. he nodded slowly, the smile barely there as he reached for it.
"i think id like that y/n. i think id like that a lot."
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stressed-crow · 3 years
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i didnt exactly get tagged, but @lieberts​ said the “whoever wants to do it” thing (like 4 moths ago but i just found it in my likes) so here i goooo
also i tag @krchov​ @cowardlylearningtobebrave​ @feathereddamsel​ @gruntie​ and @luwucifer-s​ but like, only very vaguely. feel free not to~
1. MUSIC TAG MEME 
Rules: Post your first twenty songs in a playlist on shuffle
Mama (My Chemical Romance)
Stigma (BTS)
Man Who Sold The World (Nirvana)
End of Spring (ONEWE)
Love Maze (BTS)
I’m so afraid (Holland)
Dear my friend (agustd)
O-O-H Child (The Five Stairsteps)
Go Go (BTS)
Time is Running out (The Muse)
Movement (Hozier)
Les Passants (Zaz)
The Witching Hour (ODJBOX)
Feelings (Hayley Kiyoko)
0X1=LOVESONG (txt)
YAYAYA (Stray Kids)
Empire (Of Mice and Men)
Problems (Mother Mother)
Question (Stray Kids)
Kill Your Heroes (AWOLNATION)
(i do not take any criticism on my music taste, least of all a costructive one)
2. Rules: MAKE A NEW POST, bold what applies to you and tag whoever you want to get to know better.
APPEARANCE 
I’m an I-need-to-pull-the-driver-seat-all-the-way-in kind of a person // i wear glasses or contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing  // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo  // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i wear makeup // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how I look // I prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backward
HOBBIES & TALENTS 
i play a sport // i can play an instrument  // i am artistic  // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own (if it was like... chill wildreness. i mean i can get a fire going and shit like that i cant fistfight a bear or whatever) // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand
RELATIONSHIPS 
i am in a relationship // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online
AESTHETIC 
i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colors // i find mystery in the ocean (i dont like it tho the sea scares me) // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season
MISC 
i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift  // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least one dog // i have a cat ---------
3. THIS OR THAT TAG GAME (1)
sage green or baby blue | moon or stars | paperback or hardback | piercings or tattoos (i want a new one... both piercing and tattoo) | drawing or writing | saturn or jupiter | line without a hook or mr. loverman (what does this mean??) | ancient greece or ancient egypt | prague (yo i live here thats wild) or amsterdam | dark academia or light academia | indie aesthetic or cottagecore | stargazing or late night drives | strawberries or watermelons | rings or necklaces | extrovert or introvert | dragons or griffins | ocean or mountain | silver or gold | dawn or dusk | creative or free spirit | early bird or night owl | cook or bake | dagger or sword ---------
4. THIS OR THAT TAG GAME (2)
indoor plants or gardens // cloud-watching or star-gazing // water or fire // paperback or hardcover // running or hiking // sleeping with socks or without socks // fruit or vegetables // hanging plants or succulents // dark wood or light wood // handwritten or typed // instagram or pinterest (i dont do either) // braids or pigtails // books or movies // oceans or meadows // forests or fields // sweet or salty // ice cream or chocolate // hoodies or sweaters // long hair or short hair // piercings or tattoos (new!! both!!) // summer or winter (both suck) // boots or sneakers // cars or motorcycles // curls or straight hair // castles or cottages // sunny days or storms // reptiles or birds // disney or nickelodeon (am european) // strawberries or watermelon (im using this opportunity to pick the other one yes) // essays or posters // phones or laptops // glass or stone // dark or light // photos or paintings // circuses or theaters // reading or writing // dogs or cats // poetry or novels // monsters or ghosts // thrift shops or libraries // fiction or non-fiction
5. Post one picture from my camera roll (no new downloads) to sum up my personality! u get two bcs they are v good
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6. 30 QUESTIONS TAG GAME 
RULES: Answer 30 questions and tag others
Name/Nickname: lucy 
Gender: female 
Star Sign: leo
Height: 170 cm 
Time: 22:04 
Birthday: july 1  IS WHAT I WROTE INITIALLY bcs i cant fucking read and thought it just said “date” lol anyway its 11th of August
Favorite Bands: bts, stray kids :)
Favorite Solo Artists: sunmi, taemin :) and hozier i cant betray him 
Song stuck in my head: la la la la vie en rose
Last Movie: def some horror movie but i forget which lol
Last Show: probably the untamed lmaooo did not even finnish it 
When did I create this blog: december 2013 apparently 
What do I post: kpop babey 
Last thing googled: i gotta fact check lots of shit for work so probs smting sports related (but make no mistake i dont know a single thing abt sports) 
Other blogs: what for i dump everything here
Do I get asks: no
Why I chose my url: self-explanatory
Following: 100
Followers: ???
Average hours of sleep: about 8 hours 
Instruments: none 
What am I wearing: pink pajama shorts with kitties, black shirt torn beyond decent wearability and this dark green... jacket,,, hoodie...thing.
Dream job: village witch 
Dream trip: me @ japan: 
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(i was supposed to go study there starting winter 2020 :) im abt to lose my fucking mind :) so yeah you get a dead meme for this) also new zealand, iceland, and going back to sweden sometime
Favorite food: pizza bithc its versatile, also cereal coz im a child
Nationality: czech (rip) 
Favorite song: black swan (bts), levanter (skz), take me to church (hozier), noir (sunmi) (those are from the top of my head current favs theres way more but here u go)
Last book read: MIMOZEMŠŤANÉ V ČECHÁCH (= aliens in czechia) by idk, some married couple thats probs wanted whatever xfiles had but low budget, its pure nonsense, best read of this year, dont regret a single second
 Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: magnus archives bich i dont give a fuck; middle earth to blaze it with hobbits; i wanna be one of those lil shaky-head-tree-things in mononokehime
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euaxel · 3 years
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heyyy, eonia. i’m reid, i’m twenty-three, still can’t read, and all i know about pjo is that it fucking rocks and the protag has the same learning disabilities that i do! also, i picked hypnos for this punk mainly to be mean to him and because in the hades game hypnos bullies me every time i die and i’m kiiiinda into it. hmu on discord one on one for the best plotting experience, but i’ll be around plenty to bug y’all in the gc too. you can read about bastard boy number one right here and under the cut we’ll get down to business. 
⟨ ELLIOT FLETCHER. TRANS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, AXEL EVERETT is actually a descendent of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old VIDEO GAME DEVELOPMENT & COMBAT TACTICS MAJOR from BROOKLYN, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite WITTY & SELF-DEPRICATING.
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be advised, axel’s a pretty heavy character.  i’m gonna keep it brief for the bio & need-to-knows, tag around the parts with bold applicable triggers so you can skip around as needed, and tag this post accordingly, but just let me know if i miss anything and i’ll fix it & be safe reading. godspeed and i apologize in advance for bringing you all my personal punching bag as my first muse. 
the main triggers that are gonna come up are: parental abuse, alcoholism * major, mentions of bullying, drowning * major, religious trauma, and drug abuse with some harder drugs ( particularly, weed, pills and cocaine / nothing with needles. )
general stats. 
— full name ,  axel harley everett.  — nicknames/alias ,  axe, ax, wolverine jr, tyler durden jr, trouble, Who? - every professor he’s ever had. — house,  hypnos and mad about it.  — age, 22, as of today. also mad about it.  — gender,  trans male.    — pronouns,  he/him.  — sexual orientation, bisexual with a somewhat heavy masc lean.  — d.o.b, january 1st, 1999. ( generally unknown to anyone but maybe siblings, he will probably lie and say Nobody Knows... I Just Am unless he really fucks with you. ) — hometown,
phys. 
— height,  5′0ft even. furious about it. — eyes,  brown. — hair, brown.  — face claim, elliot fletcher.
misc.
— zodiac,  capricorn. — alignment,  chaotic good. — character inspo,  lip gallagher, steve rogers ( young ), ellie from tlou1, logan howlett, stiles stilinski ( if anyone says shit i will scream ), probably someone from euphoria but i’m too scared to watch that, peter parker ( andrew garfield ), shinsou hitoshi, finn mertens, marceline the vampire queen, dipper pines, this is all over the place but it’s there.  — most played spotify songs, passion for publication by anarbor, sober haha jk unless by hospital bracelet, nobody by mitski, class of 2013 by mitski, king princess’ cover of monster from adventure time, way too much phoebe bridgers, in love or whatever by future teens, and the entire front bottoms discography but especially in sickness & in flames with the hard way & bus beat well at the top of his loop.  — aesthetics,   bloody knuckles, left open and tipped over prescription bottles, walking on the carpet with socks to get that tingly feeling, skateboarding inside, dozing off at the bar, tangled legs in messy sheets, ten pillows on a twin sized mattress, laying down in the shower, brian sella’s cracky singing voice. 
bio. 
— axel was born and raised in brooklyn, new york, and he was claimed at thirteen, on his thirteenth birthday, by hypnos. — the day he was claimed, axel ceased contact with his human mother and his step-dad, and he attended a camp for half-bloods that wasn’t far from home. he spent his adolescence there year round for safety from monsters at home and abroad, then moved on to eonia.  — ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw begin ) i don’t want to be too graphic here so i’m going to plainly say that axel’s mother was a very, very bad person, and the man she married was absent at his best, physically abusive at worst. axel’s powers (  hypnokinesis, namely )  were potent and difficult to control at a young age, and as a deeply religious catholic woman, this scared his mother and influenced most of the animosity in their relationship. she was convinced that the defensive visions he created and his ability to put her to sleep ( an attempt to help her, on his end; insomnia plagued her and later, it would him, too ) were of demonic origin, and tried to drown him more than once; cleansing, she claimed. the worst instance was the day he was claimed, actually — new years day, 2012; his life was saved by hypnos, and that was the last he saw of her.   ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw end. )  —  that said, he’s a little ( very ) hydrophobic. poseidon kids do NOT fucking interact ( i’m kidding. kind of. he Will avoid a little though ) —  anyway! moving on. all of this aside, axel did his best to put his past behind him, and he was actually super stoked to learn that his powers came from somewhere good and that there was places out there for kids like him; to learn he wasn’t any kind of monster. ( still working on believing that, though.. marcelines monster.mp3 right here )  — he’s less stoked when he starts having trouble falling asleep, and really, it feels like a more cruel twist than any other fate has thrown at him ( his upbringing was chock full of mean twists, so that’s saying something ); and really, it’s more like insomnia just full on kicks in, but he can put other people to sleep. great, right? whatever, though — combat classes are kickass and he’s surrounded by babes that think he’s hilarious so things could be totally, way worse.  — ( bullying tw (brief) ) for the most part, axel was pretty well liked among his peers. he was bullied as a young kid (pre-claim), but he bit back and he bit back hard, and sure, some of that followed him into his teen years but he’s more confident by then; less fun to poke at, and absolutely unhinged when provoked, so people learn better of it. the only real lasting effect was one instant that hit him a little too deep in the inferiority, when he was seventeen — he fell in love with a girl, told her that, and found himself at the end of a very mean spirited prank. he shook it off like he did anything else, or at least — he told himself he did, even if the hurt hit him somewhere a little too deep rooted ( ie. being god’s most unlovable son would naturally land him here, right? ) love’s kinda stupid anyways, so what the hell, right?  (bullying tw end.)
— ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw begin ) this is already obscenely long so i’m just going to keep it to the point here and say he began drinking when he was sneaking booze in to camp at fifteen, and it just never stopped there. he’s also a massive stoner, which is all well, harmless and good for the most part; he’s always grinning, half-lidded, and has a room full of smoke at any given time. it’s the pills that do him in, and he did them at first just so he could get some shut eye, and... well. after that, because he’s dependent on them. but he keeps this part under wraps for the most part; it doesn’t have to be anyone’s problem but his, and it’s not a problem until it is one. partying’s fun, so is coke; so is taking a few too many xan’s, mdma.   ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw end )
FUN FACTS!!! 
— i swear he is not as doom and gloom as he sounds from the bio, and yeah, writing that made me so sad i feel like we absolutely must hone in on the fun and cute things about him!?!  — he loves dnd. he can talk about it for HOURS and if you let him, he absolutely will. — adventure time makes him cry. he’s a baby don’t let him fool you.  — very into cryptids, aliens, horror stories, conspiracy theories, in love with ryan from watcher, wanna be shane medej.  — he loves to draw! the one thing he loves about his power is what it’s done for his imagination, and sure, he mostly draws horror things, but it’s why he went into video game development. he wants to be a concept artist.  — his double major is in combat tactics because he loves fighting. he thinks it’s so fun. he’s a little nuts, actually — i mean, get hit in the face and come up grinning. all he’s ever wanted is to run a fight club and be the shortest, baddest little bitch on the planet.  — he tends to nod off in weird places because he doesn’t sleep enough at night, which is sad, but; he can seriously fall asleep anywhere. standing up, in a tree, you name it.  — he’s a hobby musician! he loves singing and playing guitar.  — he’s a huge flirt.  — loves to scare people. he’s harmless, though. like, honestly. he might make you think you’re seeing a walking toadstool but he’ll probably apologize later.  — he’s very much a singing in the shower type?  — clothes thief. friends and significant others beware.  — actually, just kind of a thief? but of weird, little things. like, just the left shoe. puts them in a little corner in his room that he has set up like an exhibit. “things you thought you lost lol” is written on the whiteboard on the wall above it. he likes collecting rocks too. he’s a little freak!!  — he’s better at the memory retrieval part of his power than the rest. naturally, as this mostly applies for other people. 
WANTED CONNECTIONS. im literally so tired of hearing myself talk... 
friends/squad. self explanatory!!!  he’s friendly, a class clown, and a loyal friend through and through; he’s also adaptable, and his demeanor is very relaxed and inviting. he’s probably gonna have 2-3 people that he’s really close with, and he’d do quite literally anything for them. seriously, don’t tempt him.  a best friend.  so this is kind of vague but. i’d really love for him to have one person that is just a tier above the rest? they’d know things about him that are like pulling teeth to find out ( aka, anything deeper than his most recommended podcasts and loudmouth opinions on non important things ), someone who will call him on his shit, and maybe take care of his stupid little self when he gets too fucked up, because they’d be someone he trusts enough to let them.   enemies?    he probably gets along with most people until given a reason not to? but he is a loud mouth and if one of his friends gets into drama, he will stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and he will throw hands, so it could happen.
harmless rivalries. maybe even steamy ones. he’s a little shit and he likes banter so, so, so much? if given the opportunity and if someone rubs him a certain type of way, he’s so not above being a menace, although never super maliciously. just, you know, annoying the shit out of them on purpose, for fun. he’s also not above blowing a few kisses their way.
current hookups. self explanatory too. he’s a little harlot. HFBHVFNJ. it’s gonna be kinda hard to go beyond sex with him because he’s very deep in his own insecurity but he does catch feelings, he’s just mad about it when he does. i’m mostly gonna go off chem for that though! an ex. could be on friendly terms? but, it should be noted that he could’ve ghosted someone too; or pulled from the relationship when things got serious and he couldn’t choke out that ‘i love you’, even if he felt it. worse, if he did choke it out, but they didn’t feel the same way.  siblings. hypnos kids he is gonna be so protective of all of u... family is hard for axel, i’m ngl, but he really wants one is the tragedy of it all, i guess? so he just really wants to be a good brother. he thinks hypnos is kind of a dick for making him but he tries not to fault him for his existence. fuck u dad i dont wanna be alive feels a little unfair. HDBHFDSJ. anyways he’s a good brother even if he is absolutely so reckless and terrifying in regards to himself but his siblings. his siblings he will do anything for. ALSO!!! FOUND FAMILY!!!! it would be kinda nice if he bonded with someone a little older maybe, could be outside of the hypnos house even, someone he’s kind of a bratty-little-brother type with.... or bratty older brother that takes your things and makes you laugh, y’know. 
PERSONALITY.  just tacking this part of the app on at the end too to highlight parts that i think are important for understanding who he is, and just so it’s all in one place!
toothy grins, half-lidded eyes, and keepin’ them laughing is what it’s all about, baby. axel walks with more confidence in his posture than he’s earned ( or claimed, for that matter ), and it’s the backbone of what gets him by. he’s a glowing example of the fake it ‘til you make it mentality, and he knows what he wants, usually how to get it, and doesn’t mind letting you know that. there’s an ever present mischievous glint in his eyes that says more about what to expect from him than he does, and that’s still not much? he likes to have fun, and there isn’t a whole lot of regard for righteousness or responsibility on his end, but hey! it’s usually only ever at his own expense, so what’s the damage? he’s an absolute clown and he knows it.
axel loves people. he does — you might not guess that with how elusive he is, but it’s true. there’s nothing he likes more than a good conversation with someone interesting, or maybe not even then; if there’s a sparkle in you, he’ll see it. ( might even draw it, not that you’d ever know. ) he’s warm, loyal, compassionate, relaxed, and understanding; and none of that is at the cost of being passive, or lacking passion. 
as long as the vibes are right, he’s happy to just be; though, he’s known to have a fuse for certain provocations, and will jump readily at chance to fight in someone else’s honor. also, it’s not unlike him to spar for the sake of sparring; but that’s all in good fun, no worries.
there’s no way to sugarcoat it — axel has an inferiority complex. where that stems from is something he’s more self-aware of than he’s willing to admit, but he doesn’t have the patience or the will to dissect it; much less do anything about it, and he’s as bull-headed as they come — especially regarding anything related to the psyche. how much this impacts his demeanor and relationships with others varies on the situation, but one constant is that he’s going to retreat before things get bad; even if ‘things are getting bad’ exists only as his own paranoia-born hypothetical.
things can’t go bad if you don’t let them, and he’s content to keep it that way; even if it means being stuck in the stasis of missed opportunities. it’s when he’s retreating into himself that he can get irritable, anxious, jumpy; secretive, defensive, even. he’s personable until he isn’t, essentially.
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ssvgawara · 4 years
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Em’s 200 appreciation post
I will be totally honest when i first made this blog it was nothing but a blog i had to make so i could look through tumblr. then i started making moodboard which were fun but only for a while and now that I’m writing im happy as ever and to think you guys are here reading it??? wild. i never expected my blog to go this way but it did and here we are.
anyways!!! under the cut im gonna tag some of my friends and just show some appreciation for them because without them I for sure wouldn’t be sitting here typing this
@gogohaikyuu mal!!! without the two of us talking about kageyama not making it in college that one night i probably wouldn’t have written those headcannons and found that i really enjoy writing. You’re just such a joy to talk to and ilysm
@kenjikutie hail!!! i’m so glad i joined ur server bc if i didn’t i wouldn’t have gotten to meet you or anyone else in the server i love u even if as im typing this you sent a picture of jacob satorious to the chat. i wish i never had to help explain furries and vore to you but thats okay
@bby-bokuto caz!! thank you for reaching out to me and asking to be moots with me that one day. truly that had made me so excited to be making friends on tumblr with similar interests to me 
@strawbrieshortcake brie my wife i love u and thank you for giving me one of my favorite nicknames ever nothing will ever top berry it just makes me so happy. thanks for always hyping me up and being there to listen also tall queen
@multi-writes lexi my angel thank you for always being able to make me smile or laugh when i need it. you are just so much fun to talk too and you deserve only the best you still owe me a walk through that botanical garden if i ever get to visit
@irrelevantdev dev you have my heart. you are so much fun to talk to from your chaotic requests to talking about anything and everything under the sun. without ur goshiki request i probably wouldn’t have dove head first into writing like i have
@dearkags i’ll be honest i admired the heck out of your work for the longest time, and then you made the dc server and as nervous as I was to join I did. and i’m so glad i did because if i didn’t i wouldn’t have met you and everyone else and it wouldn’t have given me such chaotic reqs lmaooo
@bluberryparfait blue babe!! my mom friend always telling me to go to sleep smh no but really ily like convos with you are always so much fun and full of laughs and im so glad we get to talk on the daily
@itzyaayaa yaya ur always up when im up at the late hours and its always fun to talk with you that late ur such a soft baby and if you keep liking everything i post im gonna have to give u a smooch
some other ppli love that i wanna mention bc i care about them so much but am running out of words and braincells like i love u guys and you deserve only the best in the world and imma smooch each and every one of u on the forehead @kuroosrighttoe @koukatsuki @kozubb @simp4tsukkii 
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tired-toby · 3 years
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it's been nearly a year since my first suicide attempt, since the worst summer of my fucking life that i STILL CANT REMEMBER.
and i feel like i've gone nowhere
i'm still the same piece of shit who couldn't even acknowledge the people she hurt, who still tries to victimize herself when she's anything but the victim, who is wasting the time of everyone around her
i know all this. i know these flaws. i'm self-aware and that makes it worse because despite everything i do i feel like i haven't gotten any better, like i haven't improved at all and if anything i've just sunk deeper into this pit
and it's not like i haven't had people reach out!
my math teacher has kept up with me the WHOLE YEAR yet time and time again i let myself fall short.
i want to be better. i need to be better, for the people that are here now and for those that i've hurt in the past.
for my guinea pigs. for my rats. for my dogs. for everyone.
yet here i am just fucking wallowing, crying on an empty blog that no one will read or give a shit about because it's just me.
i graduate soon. well. i /might/ graduate soon
god
i've fallen so far.
my friends are going to harvard, to mit. i feel like i'm just going to a shallow grave.
i wish things were easy, that i could take a few pills and just be /better./ i want to stop feeling this way, i just want to feel better. i've changed my ways! i only drink water, i eat healthier, i walk my dogs for two hours every day, i've taken up new and old hobbies. but i still fall into slumps, i feel like i am a slump.
i've barely told anyone but i haven't felt like myself in weeks and i'm so fucking scared. i feel like i don't know who i am anymore and the coping mechanisms that i've used to try and feel like myself aren't working like they used to. i feel like im fragmented and being pulled apart at the seams. maybe i'm giving myself too much credit
a overfilled trash bag thats splitting and spilling nothing but garbage
that's better.
i'm just overdramatic
i'm just tired
i even have a healthy sleep schedule, did i mention that? in bed by 10, up by 7. i walk my sister to the bus stop almost everyday.
i thought i did everything right. why doesn't it work why aren't i better why am i still the same asshole why am i no one why am i nothing why can't i just be better why am i not fucking dead
55 days until i'm 18
54 until the night i became the world's greatest failure
what kind of idiot fails to kill themself? twice, at that?
i feel like i'm faking this. i read these words i type and i cry and if eel like im faking it. that i'm doing it for attention. i'm manipulative, i lie to emotionally abuse people
i know this and i'm probably doing it now
seems like something i'd do
my mom says my laptop will be back soon, finally repaired. i don't think i mentioned it here but the harddrive broke and i lost everything
stories. hundreds of thousands of words and i WISH that was an exaggeration
my fucking POKEMON. ALL MY GODDAMN POKEMON!!! I BEAT SOUL SILVER WITH JUST AN AMPHAROS AND ITS FUCKING GONE. MARILYN IM SORRY. NOT TO MENTION ALL MY OTHER SAVES
all my art. all those sketches. i've barely drawn since, nothing feels right anymore. not like i know where my art tablet is anyway :/ that's just
gone
everything's gone
once i have a laptop again, i think i'll be happier. i hope i'm happier. my life is there, my happiness is there. it's not healthy to stare at a screen for who knows how many hours of a day but it makes me happy
i want to have fun with graey again. the weeks we'd spend just playing minecraft and stardew and we haven't been able to do anything because i'm just on my phone and a shitty school laptop that can't even run google and word at the same time
i don't know what i'm going to do. this whole thing is a mess, just so much bullshit. and it's barely the tip of the iceberg
i didn't even mention how my dad found another rope in my brother's room. part of me hopes it's not what i think it is and some part of how i once opened his girlfriend's snapchat and found him listed as daddy
fucking discord moderator lookin' ass. it's the trauma innit
i'm doing dnd again. it's not full campaigns, just one-shots with the sewer rats every other weekend or so where i dm and they can have fun.
i like making them happy
i love all of them. they're my family. caesar, crypt, xeno, cat, moe, roo, blink, cig, fox, graey, even fed and ag. if it weren't for you guys, i'd be nothing. i'd be gone.
caesar, you've been with me through everything. i wouldn't be here if you weren't there for me. i'm glad we're getting close again, i've missed your company
i'm glad i'm the one you tag when you see if anyone wants to watch u stream :)
crypt, for all the shit i give you i love you. when are we going to finish mamma mia together u rat ass bitch
xeno u are one of the funniest motherfuckers i've met, even if u are a literal fetus. whenever i see u join vc im always so fucking hyped
cat why r u so fucking racist. when r we gonna play phasmo
moe stop touching kids.
roo i am not gonna lie sometimes u feel like my mom i s2g granted u are geriatric so maybe that makes u my grandma. point still stands, also when r we gonna plot wren and dhova i want my twink-turned-twunk
blink i still need to dm u back give me a sec.
cig u are also a fetus but u are one of my FAVORITE people to brainstorm and plot with. UR BRAIN IS SO WRINKLY AND UR ALWAYS SO RESPONSIVE IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!
fox. ANOTHER FETUS. but also an amazing dm and just?? ur so creative. U ARE SO CREATIVE. UR CHARACTER DESIGN. UR ART SKILLS. ur so underappreciated?
graey when r we having the dildo battle. i will come to alaska and live in a shack in the woods with ur nasty unshowering ass if it means i get to punch u in the face irl and laugh abt the usual bullshit with you.
fed stop being british it's literally so gross idk how u do it. if u stop being british i'll stop bullying u abt ur terrible typing skills
ag u are just. cool. like if i had to pin someone as like the 'cool/chill' person of the sewers it would 100% be u i am ngl. play roblox cats with me u fucking coward
enough of being sappy. they need to stop accusing me of being a lesbian I AM NOT A LESBIAN
ok
im happy again
thinking about them makes me happy
in other news celestial bodies by ghost data is a nice song
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I read every single Emerald fic on FFN so you don’t have to
There are 66 fics with Emerald listed in the tags. 
First, I took out any fic that was either not in English or actually gameverse, leaving me with 38 fics-- though I will say, the Spanish fics look like they slap
After filtering out “everyone appears” fics (I skimmed them to make sure) I was left with 26 fics. (While I would like to include “everyone appers” fics, I do not have the time nor motivation to read 30,000 words of derring-do and melodramatic heroics seventeen times in a row for Emerald to show up, deliver 2 lines, shoot something, and leave)
From there, I sorted them into various categories based on whether Emerald was a BG character or not, whether the fic had romance, whether Emerald was actually PART of that romance, etc. Then, finally, I was ready. 
Below the cut are the reviews of all twenty six fanfictions!
Category 1: BG Emerald      Every fic needs side characters, whether to provide extra voices or comedic relief or just a foil for the MCs. These fics don’t feature Emerald in a huge capacity, but he’s there and that’s what matters to me. I came into this site expecting anything: third wheel Rald, wingman Rald, Im-only-here-to-complain-about-your-flirting-Rald... I found everything but! It seems the most cliche writers among us don’t like using the Emerald tag, bc the few Frantic-with-BG-Emerald fics with I did find turned out to be spectacular! I’m pleasantly surprised and impressed. 
1. That Special Someone - Team Cap      Cap is on this list like 30 times so get used to it. This fic is mostly about Ruby refusing to shut up about Sapphire and how much he loves her (and how Emerald finds it infuriating). The details of this fic are super cute and the way Ruby and Emerald interact added 3 years to my lifespan, so I highly recommend this one if you want a nice, relaxing read involving the Hoenn boys (dare I say best boys?). In short, read this fic and all of Cap’s other fics while you’re at it.
2. A Picnic - Team Cap      Oh look. It’s Cap again. This fic, surprise surprise, is also good, and while it’s a little more basic than the others (Emerald runs into Ruby/Sapphire at a park and they mess around), it’s still cute and I still love it! Not really much else to say here... but the fic is good and I recommend if you’re in for some light domestic reads. 
3. High Hopes and Checkered Skies - aromatisse      I’ll be honest: my general opinion of frantic fics with BG Emerald is... low. A lot of them shoehorn my poor boy into whatever the plot requires at the cost of his characterization but this fic really surprised me in the best way! This one features Sapphire bringing Ruby to a “special place” the two of them arguing, and Emerald having to patch things up (mature Emerald? I don’t believe it!!). I found this fic while making this list and immediately bookmarked it bc THIS SHIT GOOD FAM. Please read this. 
4. Alpha and Omega- Ruby and Sapphire's Thoughts - Shadoweevee70     Not much to say about this to be honest. It’s exactly what it says on the tin. No plot, no development, not even 500 words. Emerald has a line. I think two. 
5. Boundaries - Team Cap     This fic hurt my heart. Though it focuses on Wally’s one-sided crush on Sapphire, there’s a touch of Emerald in there acting as Wally’s emotional support buddy, which tells me that either Emerald has matured or Hoenn is just devoid of emotionally stable individuals. Regardless, this fic is heartbreaking and beautiful but contains very little Emerald, so therefore I have very little to review. In short... not a lot of Rald, but you should read it anyway. 
6. Summer Days - eonentity      Crystal and Silver go on a “date” and Gold + Emerald try and stop them. It’s cute, it’s honestly kind of creepy if you think about it, and it involves Emerald. While the premise is kind of sketch, the banter between Gold and Emerald is incredible and I really like the general progression of the plot (especially the ending!) This is a very cute fic if you’re looking for something simple to read. Highly recommend, utilizes Emerald as a character really well!
Category 3: MC Emerald (gen)       This... this is my bread and butter baby. These fics run the gamut from friendship to domestic to drabbles to angst and everything in between, but the gist of it is that it includes Emerald as a focus without pairing him off. Not to say this is my favorite category... but it is. I’m biased, sue me. 
1. Family Inclusion - Team Cap      They say to leave the best for last, but I disagree. You’ll realize pretty quickly that Cap is one of my favorite authors to appear in this tag, and this fic is one of her best! I’m focusing on Chapter 3 (that’s the part with Emerald) where he has to entertain a shiny baby Ralts while Ruby and Sapphire are away (everybody say awwww). The fic is stupid cute, and while it doesn’t really offer much in terms of character development or stakes, it’s the type of domestic fluff you can read over and over and still find just precious each and every time. Also... Emerald takes care of a baby pokemon how can you NOT love that. Seriously. Look at this. 
2. At the Amusement Park - Team Cap       Oh wow, another Cap fic I really like. What a surprise. I’m astounded /s. This fic focuses on Emerald’s dilemma of being short at a place where height restrictions mercilessly mock the vertically challenged and how he deals with it with the “help” of Ruby and Sapphire. Though there is background Frantic (which shouldn’t really come as a surprise), this fic mostly focuses on Emerald’s insecurities and his relationship with the trio. It’s introspective, it’s wholesome, I’ve read it six or seven times (I lost count). Regardless, it’s good, and like every other Cap fic on this list, I demand you read it. That is a threat. 
3. Frantic Fight - Puph17      Any fic that drops a line like “margarine is in vogue” within the first three lines is immediately propelled to my top ten fics of all time list and this is clearly no exception. Despite the name, this isn’t franticshipping, just Ruby and Sapphire bickering and Emerald / Wally being annoyed about it. This fic, hands down, is one of the funniest pieces of fanfiction I’ve ever read on this godforsaken site. I am begging you to read this fic, if not for Emerald with a megaphone for the sheet amount of laughter it will cause. This fic may not be deep but it sure as hell is hysterical. ... Well, what are you waiting for? Why are you still here? Go read the fic, we’re wasting daylight. 
4. Weird War - storm-aurora      This is another fic I think I’ve probably read a dozen times and refuse to get tired of. Emerald and Sapphire are having a paintball fight in Slateport market, and I literally could not ask for a better friendship fic. The writing is high quality, the characters are very accurate (altho bc this is fanfic it doesn’t matter all that much), the friendships feel real, they’re having a paintball war.... everything about this is ideal. This is the quality content I live for. Please PLEASE read this fic, you’ll be happy you did. Close this tab and go read it immediately for your sake and mine. 
5. Skydrop - ayasato      Not a lot of people write about Emerald. The ones that do, for whatever reason, seem to do it very, VERY well. This fic, which is so long it might as well be considered an epic, is probably the piece de resistance of Emerald friendship fics. While not as snappy or funny or domestic as some of the other fics in this list, it more than makes up for it with a beautifully built slowburn friendship between Emerald and Sapphire, my favorite take on his living situation I’ve ever seen, and enough introspection to make your high school English teacher swoon. This fic is a must for any Emerald fan, even if it takes like an hour to read in full. It may be long but it’s magnificent.
6. Croissant Kings - ayasato      The fact that this fic is discontinued is irrefutable proof that this is the timeline god abandoned. Emerald and Pearl running a croissant stand is quite possibly the single most absurd fic concept I’ve ever heard but... it works. Somehow? It works. This fic is perhaps, hands down, one of the most ridiculously entertaining concepts and executions I have ever seen in my life. Everything about it, from the setup to the writing to just Emerald being Emerald is so raw and so ridiculous that I smile fondly when I think of it. I wish there were more than 3 chapters, however...
7. Perfect - Micah Debrink      I’m gonna be straight with y’all: I don’t like this fic. I’m not too sure what the plot is, and it was certainly an interesting read, but not my cup of tea. It’s good, don’t get me wrong; the writing is mature, very well paced, and overall well-written, but something about the characterizations is just not vibing with me. Thus, I’m not gonna pretend I thought this fic was perfect (har har) but I will say it’s something you should give a try. I’m admittedly a very biased party, so maybe you’ll enjoy this fic more than I did. For sure give it a shot, because maybe you’ll like it more than I did. This ain’t my jam, but it’s quality preserves nonetheless.
8. Roost - ayasato      This is short and sweet and may have some Sapphire/Emerald crushing if you squint, but overall a fun read. Very short, very good, give it a shot. This author is very high quality and that’s that on that. 
9. One Day - Jian-Kenkoku      This is short yet again but has a super interesting (if poorly explained) premise: Emerald gets adopted by Gold / his mom! This short oneshot details his first day, and while it is a tad rushed, it gives me the Emerald family content I have been sorely lacking. Not sure if this is one of my “reread until my eyes bleed” fics, but it’s certainly worth the trouble of reading through! It’s very cute and I recommend!
10. Emerald: Lying to Himself - reminiscent-afterthought        Very poetic and extremely well-written, but less than 200 words. This fic took me thirty seconds to read and it feels like time well spent. Please read it, even if for the sole reason that it’s super short. It’s also a super poetic way to talk about the Emerald arc. 
11. Go Away Gold! - jayfeatherelle      Ah yes, the “little brother enlists the help of a prankster to keep apart his sister and her boyfriend” trope... This may be cliche, but it sure as hell was enjoyable! Emerald enlists the help of Meddler Blue (side note: where did this trope come from bc she never does anything in canon that would be qualified as meddling other than just messing with Red at any given opportunity). Anyway, this fic is adorable, has a lesson at the end (that surprised me), had a really mature conclusion, and gave me Blue / Emerald friendship I really didn’t know I needed. In short? This is a cliche done well. It’s predictable, sure, but that’s not a bad thing! If anything, it’s a great nostalgic read. 
12. What if: Emerald never met Crystal - LetEveryoneOveraRip        This fic stole the last little bit of hope I didn’t even know I still had. You thought it couldn’t get more violent or sad? You were wrong. Everyone dies. This fic made me sad for like 45 minutes and I feel emotionally manipulated. I guess I should have seen this coming. Not much else to say except that this fic made me really sad, which, of course it did, but I still feel cheated out of a happy ending regardless. 
13. Emerald Owner’s Guidance and Maintenance Manual - Pokerescue18    Nothing happens in this fic. It’s literally an instruction manual and it’s well written and all but also has no plot. It is quite literally what it says in the title, so perhaps this should have been obvious but even still, I was left confused after reading this. I think I need a nap. 
14. Through My Eyes - Kaith1    Relationship angst that hurt my heart. This is less than 400 words so again, took me only around a minute to leave but the emotional impact scarred me for life. Very well done! This fic details Emerald’s inner turmoil as Gold and Crystal get together and Emerald worries he’ll be abandoned again. While I do feel like Emerald hating the two of them for getting together is a little ehhh, this fic does a great job of showing why Emerald would be so upset about it and his inner motivations for being so hurt by it. While I don’t agree, the author made me “get it” a little more, and for that I say bravo! 
15. At the Fair - IanDonyer      This one is short and focuses on Emerald meeting a security guard at a Halloween fair kinda deal. It’s also one of the first Emerald fics on FFN, released far before the remakes even came out! While obviously it doesn’t contain much in terms of character development, it also was written with only the Emerald arc to go off of-- so I can easily overlook any character inconsistencies. That being said, this fic is really cute and uses the OC pov really well! If you’re looking for a blast from the past, check this fic out! 
Category 4: Emerald shipping fics      On the rare occasion where the blue moon hangs melancholy in the sky, the planets align, and starlight rains down from the heavens... someone ships Emerald with another character. Romantically. Not sure where the aversion to shipping him came from, but for whatever reason everyone prefers him single. These authors, these brave knights, they’re changing that. Hell yeah for romance. 
1. Left Out - RedCharmeleon       Not to be like “this fic is painfully straight...” but yknow. Emerald is upset at Gold/Crystal’s wedding because he’s the only single one and needs a girlfriend. There’s also a “what are you, gay?” joke in here, which soured my mood for the rest of the fic. I’ll be honest, I never really liked the “all male protag / female protag ships and then taking Silver, Pearl, and Emerald and pairing them off with OCs” deal, so I’m heavily biased against this fic, but the writing is decent and the plot is fine. If you enjoy this style of plot (everyone needs to be paired up, blushing galore, love at first sight, everyone acts like they stumbled out of a hallmark movie script) then this is the fic for you!
2. Glances - Diemerald      A collection of drabbles about Emerald and Wally becoming friends and falling in love. I’ve read it seven times now. While the plot is a tad disjointed because of the format, this author really NAILS Emerald’s character. Emerald (and Wally) show a lot of growth between the snippets and god it’s so beautiful I need more of it. Please read this fic. Tell your neighbors about this fic. This fic is fantastic. 
2. Revolvershipping Cuddles - Charmerruby     You’re never gonna guess what this one is about. It’s very cute but it’s literally just fluff. Very cute, like marshmallows. This is kinda short so there isn’t really much to say, but I will am starving for Emeruby content, so though this be but little, it be fierce. And fluffy. Did I mention cute? This fic is so filled with love my heart grew three sizes after reading it. I could keep calling it adorable, but I don’t think that’s productive. Spend the time reading this fic instead. 
3. Misunderstandings - Pokeluv101      Reading this was very weird because I know the person who made the OC the story is centered around. Reading even the names thrust me so violently back into my middle school days I can almost taste the edge. It’s very good, and I suggest giving it a read even if you’re not a huge dexholder/OC fan. Also tsun Emerald is good Emerald. 
4. Unexpected - Diemerald     A fic about Emerald and Yellow falling in love. Not exactly my cup of tea so I skimmed it but this author is really good so it’s a great fic, even if it’s not to my tastes. I suggest giving it at least a once over because this author worked hard and I respect them, even if this isn’t really... my thing. Check it out!
5. Big Changes - Aquatales     You know how I said I would read every Emerald fic? I lied. This one is about Emerald getting genderbent and immediately shipped with Wally against his will by his friends. Reading the summary gave me hives and I could not bring myself to read it in full.
Final Thoughts      While I’ll be honest and say that I did find some of the the cliche fics I was expecting, I was incredibly and happily surprised to discover that more often than not, the people who bother to publish Emerald fics really care about his character and publish some pretty high quality stuff, and that’s pretty damn cool. There are shipping fics, BG Emerald fics, MC Emerald fics, and most of them are pretty fantastic! Way to go spe fandom writers, you did my boy justice, all..... 10 of you.
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harder than a bullet could hit you
fandom: roswell new mexico
whumpee: kyle valenti
uhh idk what this is really but im rewatching the series and im always gonna be upset that there’s zero aftermath of kyle getting shot!!! like just bc you have a vest does not mean ur magically okay (especially emotionally !) so yeah heres this, the title is from river by bishop briggs. (@deepwoundsandfadedscars i know this isnt the fic i said i would write but i thought id tag you, lmk if it sucks lol)
He wasn’t expecting to see Kyle Valenti here-at least, not sitting in a chair in the hospital reception area, staring blankly ahead, looking off in a way Alex thinks looks very odd on him. 
“Hey, Valenti,” he says, walking to the front desk. He sighs. “I’m here for Jesse Manes? They said he was in some sort of coma.”
The woman behind the desk nods, gives him a room number, and pats his arm in a sorry-about-your-dad kind of way that would be nice if it were anyone else’s dad. He smiles tightly, and heads off to find the room.
He doesn’t realize until he’s standing in the doorway that Kyle hadn’t said hello back to him, which shouldn’t be a big deal...he’d give it more thought, maybe, but right now, here is Jesse fucking Manes, in a coma and for once rendered completely harmless. It’s what he deserves, Alex thinks. Better than what he deserves, really. But what had happened? His father was certainly not the type of person to slip quietly into a coma. 
He leans against the doorframe, staring daggers at the unconscious form on the bed. His father had the nerve to come back from Niger (probably because of a certain incident which Alex would rather not think about at the moment) and then promptly fall into a coma before Alex could even threaten him with...something, anything to keep him away. 
He stews in his thoughts for several minutes before someone taps his shoulder. He jumps slightly, spinning quickly around. 
A nurse smiles apologetically at him. “Sorry about that,” he says. “Alex Manes, right?”
Alex nods. “Do you know what happened to him?” he asks, gesturing into his father’s room.
“Not exactly,” the nurse says. “Dr. Valenti brought him in maybe half an hour ago, said they were working on a project together and he just collapsed.”
Alex nods again, and thanks the nurse, who tells him that as soon as they know more, Alex will be the first to know. Alex doesn’t bother to tell him that he really couldn’t care less. 
He makes his way back to the hospital reception, thinking less of his father and more of Kyle. Questions like, Why is he still here? and Did they get into a fight? swirl around in his head as he emerges back into the room. 
Kyle is still there, still staring off into nothing, a blank look on his face. Hesitantly, Alex approaches him. “Hey,” he says, tapping Kyle lightly on the shoulder. “You good? I heard you brought my father in.”
Kyle doesn’t say anything, just takes a sharp breath in, then winces. Alex frowns. “Kyle,” he says, more insistently. “Did something happen?”
And Kyle runs. Shoots up from his chair and bolts out the hospital doors. Alex stumbles backward in surprise, staring ahead out the doors for a second in disbelief. Something is wrong, he thinks, and he’s just about to follow Kyle outside when there’s yet another tap on his shoulder.
He whirls around. “What,” he says, sounding more irritated than he had intended to. 
It’s the same nurse from before, who gives him that same apologetic grin. “Sorry again,” he says. “I just thought I’d let you know we’re going to be moving your dad to a new room tonight, if you want to come and visit him again.”
“Yeah,” Alex says distractedly, craning his neck to see if he can spot Kyle somewhere outside. He accepts the card the nurse gives him with his father’s new room number on it and says a terse goodbye. He doubts he’ll be doing much visiting.
Alex heads outside, hoping to catch Kyle, if he’s still here. Something is most definitely wrong with him, and considering everything they’ve been involved in lately, he’s sure it’s going to end up involving him too, at some point. Better to learn about it now than later, he reasons. Plus, he can’t shake the feeling that this has something to do with his father, which is never a good feeling to have.
He’s in luck-he’s no sooner left the hospital reception area than he sees Kyle-or rather, the back of Kyle. He’s hunched over a trash can, clearly having just been sick, and Alex sees his hands shaking where they grip the edges of the can. He stands there for a second, unsure of what to do. 
Kyle abruptly pushes himself away from the trash can, walking backwards until his back presses against a pillar. He sinks to the ground and runs a hand down his face. Alex clears his throat, and finally, Kyle looks at him.
“Hi,” he says, his voice scratchy. He lets out a shuddery exhale, and Alex, without particularly thinking, sinks down slowly next to him. 
This close, he can feel that Kyle is shaking, and it scares him a little. Kyle is steady and strong, and this is extremely unlike him. He tries his question again-“what’s wrong?”-but Kyle just shakes his head. 
Alex sighs, unsure of what to do. He can’t just leave Kyle here-he’s in no condition to drive, and he doesn’t seem like he has any intention of moving, anyway. But can Alex just...make him leave? They aren’t that close, not yet, not anymore...but Kyle is, if not a friend exactly, then an ally, and you don’t leave an ally behind. Especially if he may be in some serious trouble. (With Jesse Manes involved, it’s always serious trouble). 
Alex stands up, pushing against the pillar for balance. Once he’s on his feet, he extends a hand to Kyle, who looks at it, then at him, blankly. 
“Come on,” Alex says. “I won’t ask what happened,” not right now, anyway, he thinks, “but you can’t just stay here and I’m not gonna let you drive like this.”
Kyle nods, finally, takes a deep breath which he aborts halfway through, and takes Alex’s hand. 
They drive in silence for a while, Alex absentmindedly tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to turn the radio on, so there’s at least something. Beside him, Kyle is uncharacteristically quiet, hands in his lap, staring out the window like he wants to melt the buildings of Roswell with his brain.
It’s weird.
And then, as Alex makes the turn onto the road that leads to the cabin, Kyle...well, he doesn’t say anything, but he makes a noise, anyway, one which sounds panicked and afraid.
Alex glances over at his passenger, who is now trying frantically to remove his shirt, but his hands are shaking too much to undo the buttons. He reaches a hand out, moving Kyle’s hands away from his shirt. 
“You’re fine,” he says, keeping his voice quiet and calm. “It’s okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know what’s got Kyle like this, but he’s growing more and more sure that it has something to do with Jesse Manes.
His vague words of reassurance do the job, mercifully, and Kyle’s hands return to his lap. Alex can practically feel the stress rolling off of him, and he hates it, without really knowing why. He drives a little faster.
Eventually, they make it to Alex’s cabin. Kyle practically falls out of the car, and Alex has to nearly drag him up to the door. Once they get inside, Alex shrugs out of his jacket and hangs up his keys, directing Kyle to sit on the couch but giving him a second to get comfortable. He grabs two glasses of water from the kitchen and returns to the living room, where Kyle is once again trying-and failing-to remove his shirt.
Alex sets down the glasses on the table and sits next to Kyle on the couch. “You need some help there?” he asks, trying to keep the mood light. 
Kyle looks at him, his expression pleading and anything but light. “Alex, please, I can’t…” He fumbles with a button, cursing as his hands refuse to steady enough to keep a hold on it.
“Yeah, I got it,” Alex says gently, unbuttoning Kyle’s shirt. He stops when he feels a familiar material underneath.
“What...Kyle, this is a bulletproof vest…” he stops talking for a minute as the pieces rapidly connect in his mind. “He shot you,” he says finally, hating the fact that he believes this so easily. Shooting civilians...not like this would be the first time his father’s hurt someone he cares about. He shakes himself out of that line of thinking in time to hear Kyle’s whispered, “yeah, he shot me...I was gonna buy a gun, Alex, but I-I couldn’t, I-”
He’s on the verge of hyperventilating, Alex notices. He hesitantly reaches out a hand, places it across the stiff fabric of the vest. “It’s okay, Kyle,” he says, taking a deep breath in the hopes that the doctor will copy it. “Just breathe, okay?”
Kyle takes a breath, wincing. “It hurts,” he mutters. “Like...like someone hit me with a baseball bat. Or, like, a truck.”
Alex nods sympathetically, reaching to undo the straps of the vest. “That pain will most likely be the worst of it. People don’t usually break ribs or anything, not with this kind of vest, and my father’s kind of gun. You’ll probably have a nice bruise for a couple weeks, though.”
Kyle gives him a shaky smile as Alex slides the vest off. “Now who’s the doctor?” he jokes, and Alex half smiles back, glad that Kyle seems to be doing a little better. His smile turns to a grimace as he observes the damage his father has inflicted. Kyle looks down at himself, at the dark bruise forming over his heart. 
“I would have died,” he whispers, shaking his head like he can’t quite believe it. 
“Yeah,” Alex agrees. There’s no point in sugarcoating it-he is fully aware of what his father is capable of, and he’s sorry that Kyle had to learn those capabilities like this, but it’s the truth.
Kyle nods slowly, then looks around. “I can go,” he says at last, not sounding particularly attached to the idea.
Not that Alex would let him, not like this. He tells him as much: “Kyle, there is no way I am going to let you leave when you’ve just been shot, and by my father, no less.”
A thought occurs to him then, and it scares him with how much he hopes it’s not true-maybe Kyle does want to leave, because Jesse Manes shot him, Alex’s father shot him, and-
“You’re sure I won’t be a bother?” Kyle asks, jolting Alex out of that particular line of thinking. He looks so genuinely unsure, like he doesn’t believe Alex wants him to stay, needs him to stay-he needs some kind of stability right now, honestly, and while he never would’ve thought that would come in the form of Kyle Valenti, he’s not going to complain. 
“Of course you won’t, Kyle,” and then, because he has to be sure, “as long as you’re okay staying with the son of your would-be murderer.”
“Hey,” Kyle says, his voice stronger than it had been a second before. “Don’t say that-I mean, you can say the part about him almost murdering me, but it’s not like you chose to be his son. You didn’t make him shoot me. Nothing he does is your fault.” He smiles again, like that will negate the seriousness in his voice. There’s something like fondness on his face, and his hands have stopped shaking, Alex realizes. He doesn’t really know what to do with that, so he simply says, “yeah.” It feels nice to hear that, he manages to admit to himself. He gives Kyle a genuine smile and moves to stand up.
“Where are you going?” Kyle asks, reaching out a hand to stop him.
“I’m gonna grab you some painkillers, maybe get a snack. You want anything?”
Kyle shakes his head, and Alex heads off to gather his items, listening to the sounds of the long-awaited storm rolling in. All the more reason to keep Kyle here, he thinks. 
He heads back to the living room, passing Kyle a bottle of ibuprofen and a hot mug of tea. He watches as Kyle takes the medicine (more pills than Alex would usually take, but Kyle’s a doctor, so Alex trusts that he knows what he’s doing) and wraps his hands around the steaming mug. He shivers a little, and Alex, without thinking, tugs a blanket off the back of the couch and carefully drapes it around Kyle’s shoulders. 
Kyle startles a little at the contact before relaxing into the warmth of the blanket with a light sigh. He stares into his mug of tea pensively for a few moments before he says, “thanks, Alex. For all of this.”
Alex nods, shifting to prop his legs up on the table. “Thanks for stopping my father.”
Kyle shifts uncomfortably. “He’s gonna wake up eventually,” he says. “I didn’t really think about that, I didn’t think-”
“Stop,” Alex cuts him off gently with a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, he’s out of the picture, and that’s good enough.”
“Okay,” Kyle agrees, leaning back against the couch. He looks exhausted, and rightfully so. Alex reaches for the remote, turning on the TV, as outside the first drops of rain begin to fall. 
“What’re we watching?” Kyle asks, setting down his relatively-untouched mug of tea and curling deeper into the blanket.
“Star Wars, Episode Four,” Alex says, grabbing a second blanket from under the table to drape across his legs. 
“Four? What about the first three?” Kyle asks, sounding legitimately concerned.
“It’s not like that,” Alex replies with a laugh. “This is the first one.”
“What-”
“Shh! It’s starting.”
Kyle raises his right hand in mock surrender. A deep rumble of thunder booms overhead, and he unconsciously leans into Alex, who scoffs slightly but allows it, carefully shifting himself to avoid jostling Kyle’s injury. It’s not quiet, not with the storm raging overhead, but it is peaceful. In the morning, it will not be. In the morning, the damage from tonight’s storm will become apparent, and they will have to begin repairing it, as best as they can. But for now, for just a moment, all is well. 
yeah so here was this brought about by my rewatch,,,,it may suck idk but i simply Had To Write It yknow?
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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 5 years
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Hakuoki Short Story: Saito-san’s Days of Practice
First translation posts of the month (1 of 2 for translations +1 update [that one will not be tagged with hakuoki]), so please support me if you can either on ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/V7V2W0HO) or through paypal (paypal.me/KumoriYami )…. also let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my looking for list since i don’t have the audio for those…..
In regards to this translation, I honestly don’t know where this short story came from, but I’ve assumed that it showed up in one of the Dengeki or B-log magazines as they, in the past, have had other various Hakuoki short stories in them....I think? If anyone has information in regards to this,  I’d appreciate it to put that down here....
Aside from Saito’s story, I’ve only been able to find Chinese translations for Souji and Heisuke for these (don’t have a timeline on those right now, cuz holy shit these feel extreeeemely long. seriously!).... and have no intention of looking for the others at the moment (i gave up after more than an hour). If anyone does happen to find the others in Chinese... feel free to send them my way since I will add those to my list of torturous translations (i don’t wanna update my lookout list rn + plus I don’t want to add these to that list without knowing where these come from). 
Anyway, this story is told from Chizuru’s point of view, also the image is not mine.
Enjoy~<3
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Hakuoki Short Story - Saito-san’s Days of Practice
Translation by KumoriYami
The silence of the temple was disturbed by the sound of Saito-san slicing the air with a wooden sword. He repeated his movements smoothly, from top to bottom, [then] from left to right.
During this quiet morning, after hearing the sound of sword practice in the temple as I was heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, I couldn't help but stop.
"Ah......Saito-san?"
“Yukimura, today you woke up early? Are you going to prepare breakfast?”
"Yes, Saito-san, you are also up early."
Before my arrival, Saito-san had been practising for a while, [and] his cheeks were sweaty. I handed him the handkerchief I had with me to him, tilting my head as I asked:
“Why are you practising so early? What's the matter? [alt: Is there anything going on/something wrong?]”
“Yes, I was thinking about something.”
“Thinking about something?”
“A few days ago, vice-commander asked me to train some of the new recruits..... but I don't know what training arrangements should be made.
Saito-san frowned slightly and continued to speak.
From his words, it sounded as if the new warriors who joined [the Shinsengumi] had good swordsmanship.
“Sword skills can be ordinarily improved through normal training, but mental capabilities are different to improve, [and/but I] don't know of any good methods to improve them.”
"A good method...."
Early morning birds chirping echoed in my ears, I looked over the Nishi Honwanji temple courtyard together with Saito-san thinking of his concerns.
After thinking for a moment, I clasped my hands together and spoke:  "Ah, I have heard that the monks of Nishi Honwanji usually sit in meditation to improve their minds.
"Indeed, meditation can really improve/hone a person's mind. However, merely siting in meditation does not seem adequate,  and something else must be done."
------------
Regardless of if it's plants [says trees] or animals, all living things will hide themselves until spring as it was winter
The wind blowing off the river wasn't just cold, but painful.  Just breathing made my throat feel frozen.
——Even so, today Saito-san was only wearing a single strip of cloth [fundoshi... probably?], tightly holding his arm(s) [probably: tightly crossing his arms], quietly looking down towards the torrential waterfall before us.
"Sai-saito-san, you truly want to sit underneath  that waterfall?
Yes, since ancient times to the present, when it comes to mediation, it's best to use a waterfall.
"But, the weather is so cold, you might die accidentally...."
If there is no risk to one's life, then it will not be training.
Saito-san nodded seriously, then went towards the cold river. The moment his toe touched the water, Saito-san shook violently. I was absolutely not imagining it.
Saito-san continued his movements, obviously stiffly because of the cold.
I worriedly called out to him:
"Saito-san, d-don't do this....."
"It's okay, do not worry."
"But......"
"Do not worry."
Saito-san whispered to himself, then showed no hesitation as he put one foot into the water. 
He used his frozen legs to wade through the river and after, moved underneath the waterfall without hesitation.
"If, if only one's mind [thinks it] is cold, [then] even fire can be [thought of as] cold...... [the tl i saw had the word “cold” in place of where I put in “fire”, and the 2nd 'cold’ that I wrote as “fire/hot,” so I switched these around]
Saito-san endured waterfall falling down on his head, softly/gently [slowly] closing his eyes.
「……」
“No, no [don't do this] Saito-san! Now that you've meditated, hurry up and get out, or you really will catch a cold."
「……」
"......Saito-san?"
「……」
"Saito-san? Saito-san——" ------------
"Therefore/as a result/so, in order to improve one's willpower/mind, not only meditation, but also doing that beneath a waterfall [will help]?
"That....the last part is too dangerous..."
"It was only because the water was so cool and comfortable, that I almost fell asleep.”
Almost froze to death—— though that could not be said, I was once again made aware of the present.
"Now that it is no longer winter, it is now longer possible to ind a cold waterfall."
"Yes. other methods to practice need to be thought of."
What other ways were there? We fell into deep contemplation again.
The time, the first who thought [of something] was Saito-san.
"It would better to go into the mountains to live in seclusion, this is also [a] basic [form of] training."
------------ 
Through the roof made/built of tree leaves and branches, the familiar sunlight,  only the sound of birds from the quiet mountain roads/paths, shrouded [the area] with a tranquil/quiet atmosphere.
[Alt (since my ^ tl for this was more literal):  The sunlight passing through the roof made of tree leaves and branches and the sound of birds chirping on the mountain paths created a tranquil atmosphere.][also im guessing they built a shelter?]
[We have] Been living in seclusion in the mountains for [a few] days [now].
Saito-san and I were living(/surviving) in the mountains by picking wild vegetables, and fishing to eat.
"......[I] Really didn't think/expect that it would be so quiet."
"Yes..... Saito-san, is this also a form of practise/training?
"In a sense, there is no type of training stricter/more rigourous than this, than/with just the two of us living secluded in the mountains."
"Eh?"
I couldn't help but make a sound as I looked at Saito-san, however I didn't understand why he looked away.
Then while not looking at me, whispered.
"I mean, there is nothing here, I don't know if you're bored being together with me......"
"There is no such problem, I like being together with Saito-san."
"Is, is that so? That's good... Well, actually, me being together with you also...." [alt: being together with you, I also...]
Just now [he] said——
Saito-san's voice was muffled by another noise, [one] that suddenly [started] coming from the rustling of the nearby bushes.
The sounds coming from the bushes got louder and louder, until finally, it turned into the low roar of a wild beast.
I immediately assumed a defensive position, [and] at this moment, I saw a giant beast with sharp claws appear.
"Sai-saito-san, there's a bear! Quick, run away/get out of here!"
I hurriedly pulled at Saito-san's sleeves, trying to pull him so that we could escape together, but I don't know why he wanted to continue what he was saying to me, and did not move.
「……」
It absolutely wasn't because of fear that he refused to budge.  Because he was glaring straight at the bear with a terrible look.
"Yukimura, retreat."
"Are-are you going to fight it? You might not be a bear's opponent...."
"Encountering these type of circumstances should be avoided, [alt?: Coming across /having such an opportunity  is rare,/This situation was supposed to be a retreat/ I was supposed to be getting away from these types of situations,] but I am suddenly, no, I am very angry."
[^ if you can’t tell, i had looots of difficulties with the first half of this, lol. so I just put down all my interpretations... though I'd assume it's probably more  along the lines of: Having such an opportunity (with you) is rare, so I am suddenly...]
Saito-san looked straight at the bear with a sharp gaze and put his left hand on his katana's hilt, emitting killing intent/a murderous aura, as if the bear was a punching bag.
"Living in seclusion in the wilderness requires fighting a bear——Prepare to die, bear." [may say: To live  (in seclusion) in the mountain wilderness is to fight a bear/means fighting a bear]
------------ 
".....Well, we can discuss about how else to hone/improve one's mind/willpower. Will it/should it need to involve fighting bears?
Ordinary humans should not be able to defeat bears, but Saito-san is not without the possibility of winning. With these types of  thoughts, I lowered my head.
"Disregarding minor details, we cannot be away from headquarters for long, [and] living in seclusion in the mountains is not realistic.”
"Yes, to hone your mind/will, you shouldn't need to go living in seclusion in the mountains."
Once again, our thoughts were disrupted, [and] we sighed, together looking towards the sky again.
"[This is] Really difficult. Is there an effective training method that doesn't require [a lot of] time?"
Thinking about this general idea, I thought:
"Nn.....what about fasting? A few days ago, Heisuke-kun, Harada-san, [and] Nagakura-san didn't eat anything for the entire day, [and were] so hungry that they cried."
"Fasting? This sounds worthwhile, though I do not know its effectiveness."
After hearing this, I suddenly remembered,  this talk about eating——
"Ah, that's right! I need to go make breakfast!"
“Sorry, I have kept you for so long. What is for breakfast today?"
"Turnip soup, [and] Kyoto-styled cooked vegetables [lit: Kyoto cooked vegetables]. Although it's yesterday's leftovers, the taste is very rich and is very delicious." 
Ghrgh....
Saito-san responded to what I said with his stomach, which sounded like the stomach of a hungry animal.
"........It appears that my training is insufficient, [and that] I must correct what I said as fasting appears to be an effective form of practice/training."
Saito-san turned his head and blushed because of his stomach's gurgling.
I responded with a smile and looked away.
"Breakfast will be ready soon, please wait a moment."
"Today I'll help you cook, as thanks to you for speaking with me."
"Ah......okay, I'll be troubling you Saito-san!"
Saito-san spoke as he quickly walked forward, and I hurried to catch up.
the end
--------
The title of this might actually be Day of Practice instead of plural days... but I left it at days since I think it made more sense.... Unfortunately, identifying if something is either singular or plural in Chinese isn’t the easiest thing to do unless there’s more context.... and titles certainly lack that. Nouns without context... it’s like they’re all like the word ‘moose’ (only English comparison I can think of off the top of my head atm...). It’s both singular and plural and without further information, it’s impossible to figure out if one moose is being talked about or multiple moose.... 
^I only wrote this blurb cuz i spent a good 5 min pondering about what the title should be lol. Using day sounds better, and I’m kinda particular about how the way things both look and sound, but days did make more sense..... 
^^i’m kinda feeling random rn... and i’ve probably had too much sugar just now. tired too. also i don’t have a habit of writing translation notes like this nor do i really intend to do so notes like this again in the future... though perhaps again when im felt like i’ve had too much sugar? lol w/e...
>_<
nother post will be up shortly. tsukikage countdown.
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